Story: The Revolution Will Not Be Analysed
Rating: All Ages
Word count: 2257
Characters: Ace, Seven
Summary: From up here, she could watch the city burn.
Recced because: It's Seven and Ace exactly the way they should be. A simile that compares the doctor to a slam poet, Ace reading Hannah Arendt, and a serious reflection on that oft-ignored point - what happens after the Doctor leaves in his TARDIS. The revolution itself is drawn vividly, with tantalizing hints dropped about the state of affairs before the pair arrived, even though the focus is firmly on Ace and the Doctor. Ace's perspective is lively and fascinating - she's written as the intelligent, observant character she is. The seventh doctor plays devil's advocate and teacher, forcing Ace to question and defend what they do everyday. The answers she comes to - are interesting, especially in light of the poem the fic takes it name from.
“Black and white,” the Professor muttered, lifting a gleaming bone-coloured pawn, gazing at its tiny face. “Goodies and baddies. What does it all mean?”
He was testing her, the way he sometimes did. She always played along, because unlike school she enjoyed it and usually learned something. The real lesson, though, was sometimes not obvious until later.
“Take these people we’ve just helped into power,” he offhandedly suggested. “We’ve only been here a day or two. What do we know about them? I mean, really?” She saw him watching her with those glittering eyes, scrutinising her, waiting for her reaction.