Title: In Heaven: Great Writers
Summary: Set in the In Heaven universe in the far future, but you don't need to know about that. Which writer does the Doctor like the most?
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.
Author's Note: All you need to know about my In Heaven universe is that Heaven exists, and people go there when they die. They also meet up occasionally...
For those of you reading In Heaven - I'm trying to finish my fic The Other Side at the moment, so that's gotta be finished before anything else (except this fic, hehe). There is also what you could consider a spoiler in this in that it reveals something that will happen at the end of In Heaven, but if you think about it it was inevitable anyway.
In Heaven: Great Writers
"He likes me more!" exclaimed William.
"No, he likes me more!" insisted Charles. "He said I was a genius."
"Ah, but he said I was the genius," retaliated William. "The one true genius, in fact. That's gotta be better."
"Nonsense! My number one fan wouldn't do that to me!" said Charles.
"Oh, but he did," replied William. "And, he said I chose perfect words. New, beautiful, brilliant words."
"But he said I have one of the best imaginations in the world," argued Charles.
"So what? My imagination was good enough to resurrect the Carrionates!" proclaimed William.
"And that's a good thing because…?" questioned Charles. "Besides, my quick thinking helped the Doctor save the world."
"So did mine!" exclaimed William. "I had to make up a bloody poem on the spot!"
"Okay, we're getting off topic," said Charles. "The point is, the Doctor likes me more. He said I was a hundred percent brilliant."
"In that case, why did he insult one of your works?" asked William. Charles shuffled.
"It was just constructive criticism…" he said quietly. William folded his arms.
"You see?" he said.
"But you had an unfair advantage," said Charles. "The Doctor gave you half your material!"
"But … but…" stammered William.
"You're both wrong," said a voice. "The Doctor likes me more." Both men turned, to see Agatha Christie looking back at them.
"Buzz off Agatha, we're having a private conversation," said Charles. "Wait … what do you mean he likes you more?"
"Well, he did say I was brilliant," said Agatha. The men rolled their eyes.
"He said that about us too," said William.
"Fine," said Agatha. "But I bet he didn't say how you understand people, and how their emotions work and can turn them into killers."
"Hold on there," said William. "That's a point about your personality, not your literary genius. However, the Doctor called me incredible."
"There's the pot calling the kettle black!" exclaimed Charles. "He only said you were incredible because you figured out that he was from another world and Martha was from the future!"
"That's right – unlike some people, whose minds are so closed to new ideas that they can't even accept what's in front of them," said William smugly. "The Doctor told you to shut up, remember?"
"Please boys – stop arguing and accept that I'm the best here," said Agatha calmly. "The Doctor said so. He said my stories are the best."
"Your detective stories," stated Charles. "And just like William here, the Doctor had to tell you your ideas."
"It was Donna who told her, actually," corrected William.
"But unlike William, I lost my memory," reminded Agatha. "It was only thanks to my 'great mind' that I could remember the details. Besides, a great idea's all well and good, but a great imagination is needed to make it into a successful story. An imagination which, remember, helped to kill the wasp."
"This is getting ridiculous," said Charles. "Let's all remember that the Doctor told me that my books last forever."
"He probably only told you that coz you'd die in a couple of months," said Agatha bluntly. "I however, am the best-selling novelist of all time, with books being published as late as the year 5 billion."
"That doesn't mean the Doctor likes you more than me!" cried Charles.
"I still stand by my belief that he likes me more..." stated William.
"Hey hey, what's all this about?" said a voice. The three writers turned, and their eyes widened at the sight of the Doctor in front of them.
"WHO DO YOU LIKE MORE?" they all asked at once. The Doctor looked from left to right, bit his lip, and scratched the back of his head.
"Um..." he began, "can we call it a draw?"
There's your spoiler - the Doctor goes to Heaven. That's sure to keep you reading - or at least waiting until I can write the next chapter. I was thinking of including this as a chapter in the actual story, but I thought it worked fine as a standalone.