Author: Splash of Blue
Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 3183
Author's Summary: Silents in the nursery do not bode well for the future of Earth; luckily, however, there is at least one Time Lady who is willing to do what must be done. To tidy matters up. (Doctor Who/Mary Poppins crossover)
Characters/Pairings: Other Character(s), The Doctor (10th)
Recced because: I like crossovers, and I've long been convinced that Mary Poppins is a Time Lord; there's too much that can't be explained otherwise, from her travelling bag to her incredibly timely arrivals. Here Splash of Blue takes the idea seriously, with interesting results...
Forty-five minutes, sixteen hundred and eleven years and three galaxies later, Mary Poppins is not entirely surprised to run into what might as well be the same huge-eyed, slit-mouthed alien being as that encountered on a tiny blue-marble planet by Jane Banks of Cherry Tree Lane. Her lips purse, disapproving, and her eyes narrow.
“I am not amused by your games,” she informs it, her fingers tightening bone-white on the handle of her respectable TARDIS carpet-bag. “Nor am I impressed. I did not extricate myself from a time-lock behind the Horsehead Nebula to be the flibbertigibbet plaything of the Silents.”
The Silent watches her, impassive. The Time Lady known to twelve galaxies as Mary Poppins raises her eyebrows, an expression which in over nine hundred years of existence has instilled near-instant obedience in eight hundred and thirteen races; still the only response is silent, insouciant unresponsiveness as she calmly marks her arm with the parrot’s beak of her sonic umbrella. Her dark eyes are without a hint of light or sparkle now; there is only fearlessness and steel, like the molten stone at the heart of planets.
“Playtime,” she informs it sharply, “Is over.”
She snaps her fingers. The planet — actually a small moon, but thus far she has not cared to inform its proud inhabitants of this fairly inconsequential fact — feels its gravity shift and warp like a face in a fairground mirror. There is a scent of ozone like the world after a lightning strike, and the faintest screech of brakes going vworp, vworp.
The Time Lady is gone.