Here, all, laugh all at my terrible Doctor Who fanfiction. Derp.
Leela raised the rifle and sighted very carefully, taking her time, just as she'd been taught by her father and mother all those years ago. You never rushed when making a kill – no matter what the target was. Speed was an important factor, but you had to balance it with the need for accuracy. Accuracy was key. Accuracy meant a good clean kill – less waste, less spoilage.
The target was centred. Leela felt her pulse quicken, and made herself catch her breath, slow it down. Adrenaline was the hunter's ally, but it could also be your foe – make your muscles jump and your hand to quiver. It was simply a matter of achieving the right state of being. Hunters and sportsmen of a different age would have referred to this state as 'being in the zone'.
Leela was there right now. She squeezed the trigger.
BANG!
"Oooh, unlucky love! Never mind, best of three – better luck second time, eh?"
Leela slammed the rifle back down on the counter and glowered malevolently at the scruffy little owner of the shooting booth. "There is nothing lucky or unlucky about it – that weapon is faulty. I never miss!"
The cigarette protruding from the corner of the owner's mouth quivered indignantly. "You saying my rifles are fixed? Cobblers! You just missed, that's all! Stop being such a sore loser and have your other shots!"
Leela jabbed a finger towards the targets, about ten or so feet away from the counter, a sequence of bright yellow balloons tacked to hardboard screen gaily painted with crude facsimiles of various wild animals – lions, tigers, elephants and the like. "A mere infant could not hope to miss those bags from this range! This game is fixed so that I cannot win!"
The owner drew himself up to his full height – all five foot three of it – and tried to assume an assertive air. "Now look here-"
Leela snatched up the rifle, threw it to her shoulder, and in quick succession snapped off her remaining two shots. Neither hit. She thrust the weapon towards the man. "In my opinion, the barrel of this weapon is misaligned. The kick is all wrong. I also do not feel any power in the projectile. That means the mechanism is faulty."
The owner snorted. "You don't know what you're talking about! Those are Daisy air rifles, as seen on TV, best there are! I been running this booth at this fair for nigh on twenty years-"
"With the same rifles?" Leela interrupted sourly.
"- And I ain't ever had no one complain about 'em before!"
Leela folded her arms. "I also expect you do not have to give many prizes away!"
The owner had had enough of this, not least of all because he was afraid of the adverse effect it was having on his business. Leela's voice was carrying, rather. "Right – go on – sling your hook. You've had your go, now hop it!" And he jerked a thumb at her.
But Leela had had enough too. She saw this as an affront to her skills as a hunter. Also she did not like being cheated, which was obviously what was happening here. "I shall not leave until you have given me my prize or my payment back!"
"You're not getting owt from me, girly! Push off!"
Leela set her jaw. "Very well. Then I shall show you exactly how expert I am at hitting a target!"
In one smooth, fluid motion, Leela drew the knife she had sheathed at her waist and threw it, the blade whistling through the air to bury itself dead-on through the centre of one of the balloons, which burst with a rather apologetic pop.
On its flight path, her knife had also neatly severed the tip of the owners cigarette. He was now staring at Leela with wide, frightened eyes, his skin now several shades paler. Leela smiled sweetly at him. "May I have my prize now?" she asked.
The man gulped, and managed to find his voice. "What – what would you like, miss?" he rasped.
Leela grinned with glee. The Sevateem had triumphed again!
*
The Doctor took his change from the lady behind the counter and turned away, lifting the grease-spotted bag up to savour the aroma drifting up from within. "Mmmm… doughnuts! Goodness, it's been ages since I've had a fresh one!" He smacked his lips appreciatively. "I'm really going to enjoy these!"
The TARDIS had landed in field just outside a small English town. Not an unusual occurrence, really, but what made it so different from the norm was the fact that also in the field was a fun fair. Not a terribly large or grand fun fair, but a fun fair nonetheless. And the Doctor was in a fun fair kind of mood; particularly when he caught the scent of the little doughnut stand in one corner of the fair. And besides, it was a good excuse to teach Leela a little more about her heritage.
"You'll love it, Leela!" he boomed as they left the TARDIS. "All the fun of the fair - dodgems, candy floss, toffee apples – maybe even a ghost train!"
Leela looked a little apprehensive at that. "A train of ghosts? Does it lead to the netherworld?"
"No, no, Leela, it's a ride – an amusement!"
"Ghosts are – an amusement?"
"Not real ghosts, Leela – just pretend ones. Why, they're probably no more than bits of painted cloth and paper mache on springs and bits of string. You see, you sit in a sort of small cart on tracks, and you go round this darkened area and these ghosts jump up and scare you – or try to!"
Leela looked baffled. "What is so amusing about being scared?"
"It's not a real scare, Leela. Just a pretend one. Like the ghosts!"
"But why?"
"Because… because people enjoy a good scare, that's why!"
"I do not enjoy being scared."
"Some people do."
"Then they are fools. Fear saps the mind and warps the reason. It is not wise to attempt to enjoy such an experience." She tossed her long, sleek brown hair imperiously and strode ahead of the Doctor. "I shall not accompany you on this 'amusement'."
The Doctor sighed and shook his head. Perhaps some things were better left unexplained after all.
*
There had been quite a queue at the doughnut stand when they'd arrived, so the Doctor had decided that it would be safe enough to let Leela do a little exploring by herself while he waited, so he gave her some coin of the realm and shooed her away. After all, what could possibly go wrong here?
After a brief dalliance in a hall of mirrors – Leela would certainly love that! – he set about trying to find his young companion. He nearly groaned out loud when he walked round a bouncy castle and Leela came out of a crowd to greet him. Clutched in her arms were all manner of bizarre objects; over-stuffed teddy bears, lurid leering troll-dolls, a fluffy penguin with a drooping orange beak and crossed-eyes, and, tethered loosely to one hand, a silver helium balloon with a picture of Mickey Mouse grinning away. She appeared to be oblivious to how incongruous she looked, holding that lot while clad in her usual brief animal hide outfit, hunting knife sheathed at her hip. At least it was sheathed, though…
"Leela, Leela, Leela… where on earth did you get those things?"
She grinned. "I won them!"
"Did you?" He gave her a sideways suspicious look. "Leela, you haven't been waving your knife around again, have you?"
"Only to prove a point." she replied defensively.
The Doctor had to chuckle at that. "Was that meant to be a joke, Leela?"
She raised her eyebrows. "I never joke about knives, Doctor."
"Yes, well…" The less asked the better, the Doctor decided. He also decided that it might be wise to make a swift departure before the local constabulary arrived – as usually seemed to happen when he brought Leela to Earth in this period. The hall of mirrors and the ghost train would have to wait. "You've obviously been enjoying yourself, so, um, why not let's call it a night, eh?" He held up his bag and rustled it. "I've got doughnuts!"
"Doughnuts?"
"Yes! Food! A great Earth delicacy!" He smacked his lips noisily. "Mmmm!"
Leela nodded. "Good – then we shall feast well tonight. I have food too."
"Have you?" The Doctor eyed her bundle of prizes warily. "Teddy bears give me indigestion, you know."
"Not bear, Doctor – fish!" She held up her right hand. In it she clasped a transparent plastic filled with water – and a small orange coloured fish bobbed within it.
"A goldfish! Leela, you can't eat that!"
Leela held the tiny fish up and stared at it. "Admittedly, it is small, but perhaps boiled into a soup-"
The Doctor was mortified. "No, no, no – goldfish aren't food! They're pets!"
Leela frowned. "Pets?"
"Yes, you know – animals you keep and look after and care for. Dogs and cats, that sort of thing."
The concept was clearly alien to Leela. "I do not know of these dogs and cats of which you speak. The Sevateem kept only the animals we required for their meat or for their milk, or for their hides." She looked at the goldfish again and wrinkled her nose. "Though the skin of this one would barely cover your thumb."
The Doctor shuddered. "Remind me never to take you to Crufts then – look, Leela, let's get back to the TARDIS. I can explain there…"
*
"What are you going to call it?"
"What?"
"What are you going to call your fish?"
"I have to give it a name?"
"It's customary when keeping a pet."
The goldfish now occupied a large globular ball which the Doctor had sent up in the centre of the wooden console in the TARDIS' secondary control room – a singularly incongruous sight. Leela was bent over the console, resting her head in her hands and staring at the fish intently.
"I do not know what to call it. I have never named anything before."
The Doctor grinned and closed up the panel of the section of the console he'd been adjusting. "Well, there's a first time for everything. What do you think would make for a suitable name for a fish?"
"I do not know. To me a fish is simply a fish."
"I thought to you a fish was simply a square meal – no, Leela, look at the fish."
"I am looking at it!"
"No, I mean really look at it." The Doctor bent forward as well and indicated towards the bowl. "Everything has its own distinctiveness, its own character, Leela. Animals, particularly. A lot of people name their pets after those distinctions. You know, like Spot, or Stripey, or… or Fang…"
"Fang…" Leela's face lit up. "Fang, yes… that is a good word."
"I thought you'd like it," the Doctor observed dryly, straightening up.
Leela studied the fish more intently, nose pressed practically against the glass. "But I do not see any fangs, Doctor."
"Ah, but you most of all should appreciate that not all fangs are always visible… eh?"
Leela smiled and nodded knowingly. "Ah, yes… keeping them hidden until such time as ready to strike!"
"Well, um, quite. But I don't think that little fellow will ever strike anyone."
"Oh, don't worry, Doctor… I shall teach him." She tapped at the glass gently. "Won't I… Fang?"
*
Leela had been quite fond of Fang, so she was positively anguished when she saw the fish in the bowl, unmoving. The Doctor found her in the TARDIS garden, hiding in the branches of a large tree.
"Leela? Won't you come down from there and tell me what's the matter?" he asked. The sound of a sniffle, but no signs of her intending to climb to the ground again.
"Leela?" Again, no reply. The Doctor decided to take matters into his own hands, shedding his coat and long woolen scarf and climbed up next to her. She looked up at him.
"Fang is dead, Doctor. How did this happen? I cared for him well enough." her voice was brittle and melancholic.
"Well… animals die all the time. It's life, Leela. Fish don't live nearly so long as other pets." the Doctor explained. Leela wasn't comforted by this.
"But I wasn't able to help him! Couldn't we have done something?" she asked.
The Doctor had no answer. It was only a fish, on the one hand, but on the other, Leela was very fond of it. And when you cared about something, you definitely had the right to be emotional about it.
"Let's climb down and talk about this somewhere else. I'm sure a cup of tea could do is both some good." the Doctor suggested. Leela nodded, and together they walked out of the garden, the Doctor's coat around Leela's shoulders consolingly.
*
When they returned to Fang, the fish was up and moving once again.
"Doctor, Doctor, Fang wasn't dead after all! He was just resting!" Leela cried out, running over to her fish.
"Well, would you look at that?" he asked. The truth was that he had replaced Fang with a new fish from a convenient pet store on the planet they had recently visited and saved from an alien invasion. This particular breed, whilst highly similar in physical aspects, lived a great deal longer.
Leela was like a small child sometimes, with her endless energy, her appreciation of the simplest of things. It was the quality the Doctor enjoyed most about her, and the one he was occasionally frustrated by. However, this time he was pleasantly amused.
"Let us have your tea in celebration of Fang's good health!" she suggested.
The Doctor agreed, resolving never to tell Leela about his little pet shop visit, or about the other Fang. It would be okay to let her believe this, and he wouldn't want to spoil her mood either way.
