The Second Least Organized Sport
Summary: Crackfic, dialogue, AU. "And sentencing me to live out the rest of my natural lives with you is an act of mercy?!"
"So what are you really going to do with me?"
"I said, what are you really going to do with me?"
"What I said."
"...No, really, what are you going to do with me?"
"Exactly what I said I'd do."
"...There are a lot of desolate rocks you could dump me on."
"That you couldn't escape from?"
"Yes, actually. Not very many, mind you, but I'm sure if you looked you could manage it. Alternatively, you could just shoot me a few times."
"What? That'd be cruel."
"...That would be cruel? That would be cruel?!"
"And sentencing me to live out the rest of my natural lives with you is an act of mercy?"
"Yeah! Time Lords have got to stick together, you know! An' we can talk about all sort of things, like about Daleks and the Academy and all those times you tried to kill me and-- Oi, what're you doing? That thing's made of metal, you could hurt yourself!"
"Oh, really? Hadn't occured to me in fact. Except for the minor detail that THAT WAS THE POINT, YOU IDIOT!"
"Am I gonna have to break out the shackles?"
"What, no fuzzy handcuffs? Ship this big doesn't have a basement? You can't find a decent supplier of gruel?"
"I'm more the bread and water type, myself. You could try to escape and complain to the ACLU. Oh, hang on, that's right-- you assassinated their President!"
"Amnesty International would kill you for this."
"Isn't that against their mission statement? Now stop trying to kill yourself. We're going to have a wonderful time."
"Please, God, if ever I have blasphemed your name and done unspeakable things to your creation, for the love of... yourself... strike me down now."
"Sorry, think God's a bit more merciful than that."
"Really? 'Cause I'd qualify it as vindictive."
"Well, hopefully we'll be able to fix that."
"Fix that? What the hell are you-- the Jesus of Suburbia?"
"Oh, come on, what does that even mean?"
"A low-rent, middle-class, innocuous, unobjectionable idiot with a Messiah complex."
"For someone so unobjectionable, you're doing a lot of objecting to me."
"And yet I believe you'll find you can't refute your Messiah complex."
"Oh, I can so!"
"Then do it. We've got nothing but time... may God have mercy on my soul. C'mon, prettyboy. Refute it."
"What, I'm the prettyboy? Have you looked in a mirror?"
"You're not going to try to snog me, are you? 'Cos I've done my research; you've turned into a bit of a slut."
"I have not!"
"Oh you have so, you little slutbunny. I heard about you and Madame de Pompadour!"
"That was a--"
"And Captain Jack--"
"That was only the once--"
"And Rose Tyler--"
"Don't you even start on--"
"Is there anyone you haven't snogged? Other than Martha Jones. Poor girl. If she'd ever gotten any from you she'd have known you weren't worth all the bother."
"Is this a singularly pathetic attempt to get me to kill you?"
"No, it's a singularly pathetic attempt to relieve the endless tedium you have damned me to. When I'm trying to get you to kill me, you'll know it. And kill me."
"That's it, I'm getting the shackles."
"I knew it could only be so long before you started going all S&M on me."
"Strange, this fixation you seem to have about me and sex... of course, I can hardly blame you; I am supremely fanciable this regeneration--"
"What bubble-headed fool told you that?"
"Why, you-- I'll have you know I'm downright shagalicious!"
"...Shagalicious?! Secret Name of Rassilon, what the hell is wrong with you?! Seriously, I'm concerned, did something go hideously, hideously wrong your last regeneration?"
"Stop that! Just because I'm hip--"
"Hip. Idiot. Not meant to be synonyms."
"You're just jealous and you know it."
"What the hell do I have to be jealous of?! I may be insane, but at least I have never used the word 'shagalicious' to describe-- anything, come to think of it. And, god willing, I never shall. Good God, man, where is your pride?"
"Your mother's bedside table...?"
"Good God, you're a TIME LORD, man! Snap out of it!!"
"Oh, God, I don't care how many people I killed, I could not possibly have committed a sin equal to this. Please, God. Please."
"God's not answering, love."
"Oh, shut up, you watered-down slutty Jesus! Let me die! If you're really such an altruist, just let me die!"
"I've gotten a lot more selfish, in these latter days. Haven't you realized? You're all I've got left."
"Then build yourself a bloody dog and leave me alone!"
"What, and leave you unattended? I realize I'm pretty but that hasn't made me stupid."
"I didn't think there was a causal link-- after all, I can assure you your prettiness has nothing on the magnitude of your idiocy."
"But you do admit I'm pretty."
"What in the-- fine. Fine. You're bloody gorgeous. You have the very appearence of an angel, happily descended from the heavens. Truly yours is the face that launched a million ships. Why, you're almost as pretty as that woman behind you."
"See? Proves my point. Only an idiot would've fallen for that."
"I mean, have you ever heard the phrase, 'oldest trick in the book'?"
"NO! You bloody idiot, you can't--"
"Death has... in the past twenty minutes... gained a staggering appeal."
"But... you... damn it!"
"Do enjoy... your life without me."
"...You do realize this means I win, right?"
"If you do this, it means I win."
"How does it mean you win? I'm escaping you!"
"Ah, but I endured an entire year of your company. If you cop out now, it means you're a nancy-boy and I therefore win."
"I... DAMN it!"
"But if you're all right with losing, you know, feel free..."
"...Have I ever mentioned how I hate you?"
"Have I ever mentioned that I hate you with an eternal, bitter hate that is deeper than Time itself?"
"Oh. Hmm. Did I ever mention that the bitter, inky blackness of my hate is colder and more inexorable than a black hole?"
"At least twice, yes."
"How about that you're a shameful boil on the arse of the universe and my dearest wish is that I could be the one to lance you?"
"...Nope, that's a new one."
"And completely bent."
"Seriously, that was pretty gay."
"No matter what impression the idiots whom you usually consort with might have given you about your attractiveness, I promise you, I am not now nor ever shall be interested."
"Never's a pretty long time."
"Did you just wink at me? What the hell is wrong with you?!"
"Aren't you supposed to be dying?"
"See? You can't win the game if you-- oh, my God."
"Why the hell do you get to be ginger?!!?"
"Ha! Nancy. Weren't you listening? I told you God was vindictive..."
"...Okay, it's possible you have a point."