Can I have a preference or fic or whatever you deem to be right for the reader wanting to be an actress and she has to perform a monologue in a room full of people for the first time, and the Doctor helps her when she's scared beforehand? (if it's an imagine or fic I really just love all Doctors but Nine,Ten or Eleven fluff are the bestest, you can pick I guess) Thank you!
Finally! Here you go. Sorry this came out a bit long!!
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The Doctor noticed right away when he picked you up fromschool break that something was a little off – but it was post exams and he wasused to finding you in some degree of stress at this stage so at first hebrushed it off as nothing more than needing to unwind.
“Welcome back!” he said with a grin, and enfolded you in abig hug.
“It’s good to be back!” you said. You breathed in the smellof his tweed jacket and felt yourself relax a little.
You and the Doctor had had this arrangement for a while –you went to school for the term, where you studied art and theater and werehighly focused, but on term break when everyone else went home to theirfamilies, you went off with the Doctor for adventure. It wasn’t like yourfamily would miss you, wrapped up as they were in the family business empireand your mother’s endless charity work and your father jetting all over theglobe to acquire things. They hardly noticed whether you came home or not, andyou were sure it didn’t matter.
It mattered, however, to the Doctor.
And so off the two of you went, whenever you got the chance.And if sometimes your two week term break turned into three months of gallivantingabout the universe, well who’s to know the difference? He always had you backin time for the first day of classes, and that’s what mattered.
“Where to, Y/N?” the Doctor said, with a gleam in his eye,hooking his thumbs beneath his braces and rocking back onto his heels. “Forward?Backward? Any place, any time.”
You flopped down on the jump seat and thought. “To behonest, Doctor, I just don’t know!”
He mock frowned. “What, Y/N, out of ideas? That neverhappens.”
You grinned weakly. “I’m a bit preoccupied. I’m sorry.”
He sat down next to you, gently, and took your hand. “What’sgoing on?”
“Well,” you started, taking a deep breath, “I’ve got thisaudition.”
“For a huge show. Not even on campus. Someone saw my lastperformance of the quarter and sent me an invitation to read for a role in abig new show that’s launching in the spring. It’s a professional show. Paidwork. I’m reading for a large supporting role. This could be huge.”
The Doctor jumped to his feet. “Y/N, that’s wonderful!Congratulations!” He beamed at you, then looked a bit confused when you didn’tbeam back. “Isn’t it wonderful?” He plopped back down looking more serious. “Whyisn’t it wonderful?”
You dropped your head in your hands and moaned. “Of courseit’s wonderful. Can’t you tell how happy I am?”
He placed a hand on your back and waited patiently for anexplanation.
“I’m nervous,” you said. “No, scratch that, I’m scared todeath. It’s my first big audition. I have to do a monologue in front of actualproducers and directors who do this for a living. I’m terrified I will mess itup or embarrass myself or just walk in there and stare at them like some kindof – like some kind of mute frog!”
The Doctor tried not to laugh but had to, and you glared athim.
“Ok, sorry, sorry,” he said, rubbing your back thoughtfully.You allowed yourself to be mollified. “So you have stage fright,” he said.
“Well then,” he said, “I have just the thing.” He hopped upand ran to the controls, typed in a few coordinates and you felt and heard theTime Rotor whizzing into life.
“What’re we doing?” you asked.
He winked at you. “Geronimo!” he cried.
“Bring your monologue,” he called over his shoulder as heheaded out the door. “And hurry.” You rummaged through your bag for the folioand ran out after him.
You emerged onto an empty stage, in a small wooden theaterlit by candles. You spun around, taking it all in.
“Where are we?” you asked breathlessly.
“Theatre Royal, Bristol,” the Doctor intoned with atheatrical flourish. “Just built, 1766.Site of some of the great performances of the world at its time.” He grinned atyou. “And tonight, you areperforming.”
He plucked the folio out of your hand, hopped off the stage,and looked up at you expectantly.
You stared at him, dumbfounded.
“What?” you finally managed, intelligently.
“Let’s hear it!” he said, cheerfully. He lowered his voiceto a stage whisper. “Consider it a rehearsal.”
You had to giggle in spite of yourself. And you tried. Youstuttered through a run through of the monologue, shaky and unsure of yourself,feeling awkward, but as you went you felt yourself getting a little stronger.The Doctor followed along in the book, giving you a suggestion here and there,suggesting a flourish or two you hadn’t thought of.
“That was a bit rubbish,” you said in what you hoped was amatter-of-fact tone when you finished.
“No it wasn’t. It was a first try. First tries are meant tobe a bit rubbish, or what’s left to do after?” He smiled at you, held out ahand that you couldn’t help but take, and pulled you back into the TARDIS.
The Doctor ran to the console, flicked a few switches, andtook you off to another stage, another theater. Over the course of the nextfour days, you visited famous theaters across history, large and small, strodeover the boards where Shakespeare had stood, whispered and shouted your linesto the rafters, and learned to fill a stage with your presence.
You could feel your confidence growing with every stop.
Finally, on your laststop, alone in the middle of the night on the stage of the Royal Albert Hall,you delivered what you considered – at long last – you forgot about the Doctor,you forgot about the potential audience, you forgot about the lights and thevastness of the stage and the tightness in the pit of your stomach and yousimply became the words, the emotion,the story you were sharing. You could only describe it as living the wordsrather than reciting them. You disappeared inside the character and weretransported away.
There was thunderous silence when you finished, and yousuddenly came back to yourself, blinking in the bright spotlights that the Doctorhad somehow turned on. Everything was a blur and you couldn’t see him anywhere.You stood there for a moment, feeling the thud of your heartbeat and still justreturning to yourself.
Then you saw him, sitting silently at the end of the thirdrow, front and center.
“Doctor?” you called, suddenly nervous.
He broke into a brilliant smile and – embarrassing youutterly – applauded you vigorously, then bounded up to the stage. “Y/N,” hesaid, pulling you in for a huge hug, “I think you’re ready.”
You were surprised to agree that you thought so too.
