So, it's about three in the morning, and I've only just now finished chapter two of my latest story. I'll post it here, but it's okay if no one reads it, I simply have nothing better to do. I'll add it to chapter one on my Wordpress fan-fiction blog, later, perhaps. This is really a rubbish story, I barely even know what the plot is, myself. I'm just writing to have something to do, really.
You'll have to excuse they way it's been printed on here. I'm using a new word processor, "office," which was free. I've always used Word, so am still trying to figure this free software out--not crazy about it-it doesn't seem to be as copy/paste friendly as Word was, as you can see by the gaps in the story--I'm too tired to fix them, and besides, i honestly don't expect anyone to bother reading it, so who cares?
Now, I have to head back to bed, since I'm feeling a wee better. Have to get up at 7 to go to work, so I'd best get on with it.
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The officer with the mountain bike was speaking into his radio, when a strange buzzing noise sounded, and the transmission went dead. The two officers looked at each other with puzzled expressions, and then down at their prisoner. The man was fully conscious and sitting up, holding out a device rather like a thick pen, with a blue glowing tip instead of a ball point. He grinned cheerily at them, and then he said, “Not that I wouldn't like a tour of your police station, constable, but you now how it is; places to go, things to see, planets to save...” Then, without further preamble he sprang up and took off down the canal path. With twin shouts to halt, the two officers hotfooted it after the Doctor.
As he ran, the Doctor spied a bicycle lying against a tree near the canal, which one of the narrowboat owners had just left. Grabbing the bike, the Doctor climbed on and began peddling for all he was worth. The policeman on the mountain bike pedaled furiously after him. Sparing a quick glance over
his shoulder, the Doctor noted that the man was gaining on him, then he looked forward again—almost too late, as a jogger with a big dog on a lead came at him down the narrow path. The Doctor had no choice but to slow down, having no desire to injure an innocent person. The policeman was just a hair's breath behind, reaching out with one hand to grab the flying tails of the Doctor's coat, when a bridge
loomed up on the left, the doctor quickly rode across the bridge, and onto the pavement of the town. Pedaling back towards the direction he'd come from, the Doctor dodged moving cars, shoppers and strollers, still with the policeman hot on his coat-tails.
Just then, a police car, lights flashing and siren wailing, pulled out from a cross street, blocking the Doctor's path. Without hesitation, the Time Lord hung a hard right into a narrow alleyway. Which, as it happened, turned out to be a dead-end. The Doctor, breathing heavily, whinged, “Oh, now that's just not fair!” Then, he noticed a fire escape on the left side of a crumbling brick wall. It was blocked off by a wire gate, and lot of the steps on the bottom half were missing, but it seemed to be the only way out.
The policeman on the bike turned into the alley, and saw his suspect leaping over the short gate and shimmying up the thin edge of the fire escape, on the edge of the former step supports, only an inch or two wide. The Doctor, using the handrail as a support, did his impression of a highwire act, quickly but carefully placing one foot in front of the other, inching his way towards the crumbling iron platform halfway up the side of the building.
Ditching his bicycle, the policeman cursed under his breath, and followed the Doctor. Gaining the platform, the Doctor used his long legs to their full advantage, running up the rest of the staircase to the top of the building. He'd just reached the top of the old fire escape, when with a metallic groan of protest, the step gave way!
For a long few seconds, the Doctor hung there in space, his burgundy trainers dangling in the air, coat-tails fluttering in the breeze. Three stories below him was a strip of concrete pavement, littered with broken glass, bits of discarded machinery and other rubbish. Then, he got a better grip with his fingers on the edge of the building, and with a mighty heave, flung himself onto the roof, rolling away from the edge. He lay there for a moment, catching his breath, and giving a sigh of relief. The Doctor didn't dawdle though. He quickly sprang up, and was off again, dashing across to the other side of the roof.
The next building over was adjoining the roof, so it was only a matter of jumping down a meter or so, to the next roof. Below him, the Doctor caught a glimpse of policemen and pedestrians, staring up at him, gesticulating excitedly. He ran from roof to roof for a few minutes, then...ran out of roof.
The Doctor looked down, worried, as there seemed to be no way off the roof of the last building on that particular row. There was no door and no ladder. The police were closing in on him again. Just then, a tractor hauling a trailer piled high with hay slowly rumbled by on the street below, and taking a deep breath, the Doctor jumped down. Burying himself in the straw, he comfortably rode a ways down the street, but, then noticed a road block up ahead. Looking carefully around, the Doctor swung down from the hay bales, and slipped down to the pavement once again.
Hearing shouts getting closer, The Doctor knew he had to escape and soon. He was standing by the canal, when he noticed a ladder leading down to the water, with a rowboat tied up to it. Flinging himself down the ladder, the Doctor picked up the oars and rowed for all he was worth to the other
side of the canal, ending up only about ten meters from the Tardis. Clambering up the bank, the Doctor sprinted for his machine—but, before he could get there, an old man grabbed him, yanking the Doctor nearly off his feet. The Doctor looked around wildly at the man, “Wh-what?” He stammered, in sheer disbelief that after all that, he'd been caught by some old man.
The old man shook his head, “It's alright mate, I saw the whole thing, they's nowt they've got on yer, they was just lookin' to beef up their arrest record, most likely. I saw yer arrive in that funny box, don't reckon you had nowt to do with no murder.” The Doctor looked at the old man, as he allowed himself to be lead towards a nearby narrowboat. The man was short and wizened, wearing an old jumper and baggy trousers. He lead the Doctor down the stairs and sat him down on a bench. The old man admonished his guest to stay there, and left. A few minutes later, the Doctor heard the engines start up, and in seconds the boat was underway, headed down the canal.
After a short time passed, the boat's engine cut out again. The Doctor heard movement on deck, as the old man tied the boat up again, a few miles down the canal from the town. The man came back down to the little cabin, bearing two mugs of tea in his hand. “My name's John, this is my boat.” The Doctor took the mug. Thanks.” He said. Then, he held out his hand. “Hello John, I'm the Doctor.” The man shook his hand and then sat down. “Yes, I know.” He said dryly. “Only one man in the universe has a space ship that looks like a police box, can't be anyone else.”
