deviantnabu

Doctor Who - The New Companions

Added 2022-08-01 15:55:00 +0000 UTC

“I don’t know why you dragged me out here this early. This place doesn’t even look open”, Ian said as his friend walked with great speed to the exhibition hall.

“Come on!” Pete said, calling back behind him at his moping friend. “I’ve been waiting for this all year!” Ian rolled his eyes and picked up his pace with all the enthusiasm he could muster. Pete was a self-confessed Doctor Who superfan. The man was like a walking encyclopaedia – it was almost as if every episode was ingrained in his mind. He knew everything there was to know about the series, and to the interest of no one, boasted about it frequently. He was a good friend, but one who was slowly letting his interest (or, his ‘obsession’ as Ian put it), take over his whole personality. No other franchise was able to hold his attention for long, and he soon inevitably returned to familiarity and safety of the all-encompassing Doctor Who.

Ian, on the other hand, cared little for the show. He had seen the odd episode growing up, but never really got into it. It had always been in the background, but it was never something that he engaged with, especially in comparison to Pete. If anything, his friend’s obsession with the show had turned him off of it. Pete had tried relentlessly to ‘get him into it’, but this usually involved Pete making him sit through some ancient episode and pausing every few scenes to explain something. He had only decided to come with Pete to the exhibition because he had already bought the tickets.

The exhibition hall was far larger than Ian had expected, stretching out to encompass the whole block. He had anticipated a long queue of Doctor Who fans, dressed in cringeworthy costumes, but was glad to see he was mistaken. No one else was there, and the hall itself looked closed. The only sign of life was a bored looking young woman behind the ticket counter scrolling mindlessly through her phone.

“Here are our tickets!” Pete said, proudly holding up the two scraps of paper to the counter. The woman didn’t look up from her phone.

“The exhibition isn’t open for another hour. Come back then”, she mumbled, no doubt having said the same multiple times already that morning. Ian finally caught up to his friend, only to see Pete clear his throat, sliding the tickets through the slot. The woman looked at them.

“Oh, sorry!” she said, immediately breaking into a smile. “I didn’t realise these were the early bird tickets!”, she added, tearing off a stub and handing them back to the two men. “You’re the first to arrive, let me let you in.” She pressed a button behind her desk, the metal turnstiles opening with a metallic clink.

“Thanks so much!” Pete said, grinning. Ian followed him, confused.

“Enjoy the exhibition!” she responded, closing the barriers behind them and getting back to her phone.

“What did she say about early bird tickets?” Ian asked. “Is this why you dragged me out here so early?”

“It wasn’t much extra, don’t worry”, Pete said, following the signs for the Doctor Who exhibition. “I wanted to be able to properlyspend some time at the exhibition, you know? Without having to mix with the hoi polloi”, he said with a smirk. Ian could only roll his eyes. Not only was he attending an exhibition he didn’t want to go, but it would also just be Pete and himself there, impatiently waiting for his friend to read each bit of information on the signs. “An exhibition like this doesn’t come around often, and I wanted to make the most of it. Come on!” he said, darting off ahead as Ian forced himself to follow.

With the hall empty of other people, it was oddly quiet. Their footsteps echoed loud on the polished floor; the buzzing of the lights above usually masked by the legions of fans milling around chatting and taking photos. Pete didn’t seem to notice how strange it felt, bursting through a set of double doors into the main exhibition hall. Once inside, he looked as though he was in heaven. His jaw went slack, his eyes wide. Surrounding him was all of the Doctor Who props, costumes, and monsters he could ever want.

“This is amazing!” Pete said to no one in particular as Ian walked through the doors behind him. “And just think – we’ve got the whole place to ourselves.”

“For the first hour, at least”, Ian reminded him.

“Don’t worry, that’s more than enough time for me to see everything”, Pete said assuredly. Ian didn’t believe him, watching as his friend staggered over to a long display case with many different types of daleks mounted, showing how their designs shifted over the years. Pete was eagerly going to each one and explaining the construction, the episodes that they featured in, and even the deep connections with the show’s history that Ian was completely oblivious to. He nodded politely at Pete’s enthusiasm, and sometimes glanced over the small signs included with each, noticing unsurprisingly that Pete’s knowledge covered everything on the captions and more. To Ian, the daleks all mostly looked the same, just with a few different colours throughout. Still, he could appreciate the joy that his friend was getting from them, his buzzing enthusiasm echoing in the empty hall.

“Look at these!” Pete said, practically dragging Ian over to another series of display cases. Inside each were small devices that were called sonic screwdrivers – he knew that much at least, gleaned from the few forced viewings he had gone through. Pete went through the motions, explaining the actors who wielded each with a self-satisfied tone that Ian knew he had used on numerous occasions, correcting the mistakes others in their friendship group had wrongfully made about Pete’s beloved series.

For what felt like hours, Pete moved between display after display, explaining everything in incredible detail to Ian. At one point, after being listed the episodes that Douglas Adams wrote for the third time and the specifics of the ninety-seven missing episodes of the main series, Ian decided to speak up.

“I don’t see why you wanted to come here. You know all this stuff already”, he said moodily.

“What do you mean?” Pete asked, unable to comprehend that his friend wasn’t as fascinated by the assorted props and trivia surrounding them. “Isn’t it amazing to see it all in person?”

“Maybe for you. For me, it’s just a bunch of old stuff from the fifties…”

“Sixties!” Pete corrected, instinctively. “The first episode was in 1963.”

“Whatever”, Ian said, rolling his eyes. “Let’s just wrap up here so we can go.”

Ian’s frustration did nothing to temper Pete’s enthusiasm, and he spent just as long examining each display, though without the lengthy explanations he once did. Eventually, the two came around to the far side of the hall where several costumes were on display, but not in display cases like the other exhibits. Ian could recognise some of them from his few viewings, though didn’t dare show Pete he recognised them. There was a long scarf, a couple of bow ties, and a cricket jumper, all that he was sure were part of the Doctor’s costumes throughout the years. Beyond these, were several other costumes that he had no clue who wore them, all displayed on plain faced mannequins.

“Amazing!” Pete said, walking over to them. “These are some of the companion’s costumes – they must have been so hard to find!” he said, gesturing to a bright pink lycra outfit. “This was worn by Peri Brown, played by Nicola Bryant. She was a companion of the fifth and sixth doctor, and-“, he stopped himself, noticing Ian wasn’t listening. “Sorry, I’m rambling again, aren’t I?”

Ian shrugged nonchalantly. He knew all of this stuff meant a lot to Pete, so he thought he should at least try and indulge his interest, if only to be polite.

“What about this?” he said, pointing at a brown patterned dress.

“That was worn by Romana – or, the second incarnation of her to be accurate. She was a time lord-“

“Like the Doctor?” Ian asked.

“Exactly! Like the Doctor!” Pete said, smiling. “Honestly, I could talk about these characters for hours! Decades of stories, all so interesting…” Pete trailed off, leaning up against the display. “I’m glad you’re finally showing an interest, Ian!”

Ian smiled weakly, unsurprised that Pete was misinterpreting his polite interest for actual care. As Pete leant on the display, Ian noticed the Romana mannequin wobbling.

“Watch out!” he said, and Pete turned around just in time to see the mannequin crash into the other, the Peri mannequin tumbling down towards them. Ian quickly stretched out his hands, trying to catch it before it fell, and Pete did the same with the toppling Romana.

As their outstretched hands touched the costumes, there was a sudden flash of light that dazed both of them. The men staggered back. Beneath Ian’s fingertips, he was surprised to find that he couldn’t feel the soft lycra of the costume – only the felt of the mannequin. The costume that it was wearing had vanished. Setting the mannequin back upright, he realised where it had gone. The bright pink lycra was now stretched uncomfortably across his body, his own clothes vanished. His feet were painfully crammed into a much smaller pair, and Ian struggled to maintain his balance.

“What the hell is this?” Ian yelled, tugging at the material. It was stuck fast. As he looked over to his friend, Pete was now wearing the dress from the Romana mannequin.

“I don’t know”, he said, trying unsuccessfully to remove the dress. “Let’s get out of here!”

As the two men turned and tried to run, they stumbled over, falling to the floor with a shout. Ian had managed to put out his hands to break his fall, and when he looked at them, he noticed a change in his fingertips. His nails that were once chewed and worn down, were now perfectly manicured, topped with a glossy shine of nail polish. Worse still, the changes were continuing down to his wrists. His fingers had reduced in size, looking out of proportion with the rest of his body. They felt smaller, more precise. From Pete’s incredulous staring at his own hands, Ian knew that the same must have been happening to him. He managed to stand up and helped pull Pete up with him.

The two men found it far easier to stand after their fall. Ian noticed that his feet were no longer crammed inside the shoes but instead fitting perfectly. Pete lifted the hem of his dress, his own feet comfortable inside some smart black heels. Ian looked to his friend – the dress hanging shapelessly off of his broad shoulders, covering most of his body. Ian, on the other hand, found that he felt exposed, the plunging neckline of the pink shirt leaving his chest open. As he tried to twist and pull at the fabric, it was immovable.

“Ian – your hair!” Pete said, pointing his thin finger at Ian’s scalp. Scared, he reached up, feeling a hairband that was now firmly planted on his growing hair, the perfect colour to match his belt and wristband that jangled with every movement. Ian could feel his hair had grown into a short bob that just tickled at his exposed neck. He could see the changes were being mirrored by Pete opposite him. Long strands of blonde hair were tumbling down his body in locks, only stopping once they had reached his chest.

Both men leant on the display stand once more as they tried to steady themselves. They could feel their flesh rippling, shifting and altering as if by magic. The hair that both had across their body faded away, receding into their flesh which was growing softer and more sensitive by the moment. The few blemishes on their skin – acne scars and pock marks, all vanished, leaving their skin smooth and feminine. Ian couldn’t help but run the soft palm of his hand over his arms. Remarkably, he could see the muscles and fat beneath the skin bubbling and changing, painlessly reforming into something new. The bulk across the men’s arms was gone, muscle built up through occasional visits to the gym vanishing without a trace.

“This is crazy!” Ian said, shocked. He wasn’t sure, but it felt like his voice was shifting higher with each syllable.

“At least it doesn’t hurt though, right?” Pete said. “If anything, it feels kind of nice.”

Ian nodded. Pete was right. Despite the panic he felt about being trapped in the ridiculous outfit, his body changing in front of him, somehow he was getting slowly thrilled by the changes. He could feel something stirring in his loins as the sensation manifested in arousal. Taking a deep breath, he felt his legs changing to match the subtleties of his arms. Revealed by the pink shorts, two long, thin legs were soon in place of his own, slender and agile. From the pleasured expression on Pete’s face, Ian knew that beneath the dress, the same was happening for him. He could feel a small weight shift in his rear as his behind changed, becoming pert and athletic. The change was accompanied by a jolt of pleasure that ran through him.

“Oh my god”, Ian gasped, his voice now high and feminine. Though he was unaware, his accent had shifted, now broadly transatlantic. He could hear a cracking and crunching noise coming from Pete, buried underneath moans as he leant back, face red. Soon, Ian could hear the sound coming from his own body as his bones quickly remoulded themselves into a smaller, more feminine shape. It was completely without pain – each rib reconnecting with a pleasurable satisfaction. The torsos of both men were shrunken down, becoming far smaller than their broad male frames had been when they first entered the exhibition hall. Their hips burst apart, giving each subtle curves beneath their forced clothing. The outfits now fit far more comfortably, without the stretched fabric of before. Pete’s dress hung down from his shrunken shoulders and clung closer to his smaller body, and the pink lycra that Ian wore was now covering his petite shape, though loose around his chest.

“Something’s changing inside of me…” Pete said, clutching at his chest in between moans. “My heartrate…” his voice trailed off, lost in both pleasure and confusion. Within his chest, his biology was changing. Another heart had formed, seamlessly merging with his own vascular system. His organs shifted, his lungs replaced by a series of pulmonary tubes. His eyes flashed briefly, now better suited to differing light conditions. Pete was human no longer, but something more.

Ian felt a weight on his mind as something began to worm its way into his memories. A wave of panic rose in him, soon soothed by a reassuring pleasure that reminded him that this was how things had to be. One by one, his memories were observed, scrutinised, and supplanted. His knowledge of his parents disappeared, replaced by another couple. His whole memory of his early life was rewritten, and he now remembered growing up in Maryland, in the United States.

“This is incredible”, he murmured, his voice now clearly American. “I remember so much!”

“Me too! Everything, Gallifrey, the war, my other regenerations…”, Pete responded, clearly going through his own mental transformation. One memory soon rose to the forefront of both of their minds, that of a figure known as The Doctor. For both, he was no longer a fictional character, but a real person, one they both knew incredibly well.

The confusion and disorientation of the wave of memories washing over the pair was interrupted by another burst of pleasure. As both men gasped, their faces shifted. Their cheekbones rose higher, their noses upturning, and their lips becoming broader. For Ian, he run his smaller tongue over them, feeling the odd taste of lipstick. Ian opened his mouth to speak, but all that emerged was another moan, soon joined in chorus by his former friend. Both men grabbed at their chests, feeling two fatty masses forming. Their nipples sprung forth, erect, rubbing pleasurably against the fabric of their clothing. Ian could feel something underneath the lycra as his breasts grew, now giving him a deep, seductive cleavage.

“I’ve got to see this!” he said, excitedly, his voice and mind now almost completely changed. Finally, he was able to tear off the lycra shirt and shorts, realising that he was wearing a striped blue and purple bikini. Despite how exposed he knew he was; he didn’t feel any shame. After all, this was his body, and he was proud of it.

Pete hurriedly pulled up his dress, sticking one long hand underneath. His new eyes went wide with shock at what he discovered, before rolling back in pleasure. Following suit, Ian could see the bulge of his member tucked inside the bikini. Despite the unprecedented levels of arousal he was feeling, his manhood was reduced to a tiny, useless knub. In a moment, it was gone. It vanished inside of his groin, before splitting open a second later as a vagina, soaking wet. The women gasped, reaching out for one another as the pleasure soared ever higher. Soon, their orgasmic wails echoed throughout the hall.

Pete and Ian were gone. The two women, one human, one a Time Lord, stared at each other, their minds and personalities adjusting to the sudden change. All memory they had of who they were before they touched the costumes had vanished as easily as their old clothes.

“Peri”, Romana said, looking at the human in front of her. As the name was spoken, it lodged firmly in her mind. It felt right.

“Romana”, she said, the recognition flickering across the other woman’s features as the change was sealed. “We need to get out of here and get back to the Doctor. I don’t know why you dragged me out here this early!”