A short story written for #OutlawsandLegends
Nottingham Castle 2017AD (ish)
“Nottingham. Everywhere in the Universe, and you take me to Nottingham?” Bill folds her arms and groans as the Doctor bites at his ice cream. Somehow, her idea of being a time-traveller hadn’t included taking a class of bored Physics students on a road trip. To Nottingham.
“Very important, Nottingham.” The Doctor murmurs between bites. “Birthplace of D. H. Lawrence, capital of the Mandraffian-Human empire, best ice cream on Earth-” Her tutor licks a drip from his fingertips. “Home to outlaws and general rough-looking dudes.”
“Robin Hood. You’ve definitely met him, yeah?”
The Doctor smiles into his cone. “Ages ago. Come on!” Bill is dragged through another stone corridor as the Doctor flits from window to window. “They’ve got an exhibition, probably with alien stuff. You’ll love it.”
Bill raises an eyebrow. “I thought this was a Physics trip.”
“Everything’s a Physics trip when you get down to it. See, look-” He points at the air. “There’s an atom.” They reach the end of the corridor and turn sharply into a large room. It’s covered wall to wall in paintings and chock-full of tourists. Bill feels the Doctor shudder. “Lots of tiny humans, be careful.”
The two of them dart between the hordes, the Doctor making snide remarks about some of the paintings as they go. Bill grins, it’s the most normal day out they’ve been on so far- and the brink of the summer holidays. She’s bursting for some adventure. “Come on then, where’s all the interesting stuff?” Says Bill. Her professor doesn’t respond. “Doctor?”
The Doctor has stopped at the end of the room, suddenly silent. In front of him is a statue of a king, or something. On first impression, he looks like a bit of a tosser. “So that’s where you ended up.”
“Are you talking to a statue?”
“Bill, meet the Sheriff of Nottingham.”
Bill extends her hand, before thinking twice about it. “Hi mate.” She waves.
The Doctor scoffs.“‘Mate’? He tried to take over the world with an army of killer robots.”
“The Sheriff of Nottingham?” He nods. Bill glances down at the podium, there’s a red sticker on the label. “Look.” She points. “He’s being put up for auction.” The Doctor stifles a laugh. “A million quid!”
“Cast in pure gold. “ He grins and wrings his hands excitedly. “He’s definitely dead.”
“You’re not like- space rich are you?” Bill gawps at the price tag. “Because someone could totally buy this and, y’know, unmelt him. Raise a zombie army.”
“An evil genius with a straightforward plan? Impossible.” A bead of ice cream runs down the Doctor’s face as he crunches down the last of the cornet. “Fancy a trip in the TARDIS?”
Bill’s face lights up “I thought this was an ‘educational excursion’?” She shoots him a glance. The Doctor has the decency to look guilty. “It’s in the dungeons, isn’t it?”
It takes a few seconds to hop forwards a week. The Doctor waves his psychic paper at the usher and leads Bill into the auction-house gallery. On the stage the golden statue gleams, the two of them stick their tongue out at it.
The bidding starts at one million but it’s only a fraction of a second before the first hand is up. She winces. “Who has this sort of money?”
The Doctor sticks his hand up. “Two million.” The auctioneer calls. Bill nearly bites through her bottom lip.
“Doctor are you... actually a millionaire?
He shakes his head. “No, just handsome. Put your hand up, I want to see the woman on the front row shriek again.”
After a bidding war which seems to go on for hours, they win the statue for an extortionate amount of money. Bill had stopped counting after five million and began to raise her hand when she felt like it.
Once they get the statue inside the TARDIS, the Doctor flies to the nearest black hole.
“Was he really that bad?” Asks Bill, watching the gold silhouette of the Sheriff of Nottingham drift towards the event horizon. “Like in the stories, I’m guessing you met Robin Hood too but-”
“Stole from the poor and gave to the rich.” Says the Doctor. “All that pantomime villainy and I never got to say ‘it’s behind you!’. Might’ve helped, he fell backwards into a vat of molten gold.”
Bill sniggers. “You’re a bit like Robin Hood. If Robin Hood was a crusty University lecturer and kept women in basements.”
The Doctor frowns. “Crusty?”
“Nah.” She smiles. “Just old.”
Her tutor huffs, glaring at the ever-shrinking gold dot in the distance. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten, you’ve got a paper due soon.”
Bill groans. “It’s the summer holidays!”
The Doctor raises his eyebrows. “Yeah? I’ve got a time machine.”
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