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Doctor Who episodes | Story: 023 | season 3 [6/10]  
↳ The Ark

“He’s right. A long time ago, your ancestors accepted responsibility for the welfare of these Monoids. They were treated like slaves. So no wonder when they got the chance, they repaid you in kind.”

Linear

PIETRO MAXIMOFF X TIMELADY!READER (FEMALE)

Requested by @atomicpeacekryptonite​ : “Hi! Could you write a Pietro or BuckyxReader were the Reader is a Time Lady (Like Time Lord from Doctor Who) and Fury wants her in the Avengers?”

(A/N: I can’t tell you how excited I was to get this as my first request!! Dr Who is my ultimate favourite, and Pietro is just… ahh, I love him. This gave me a lot of ideas so I might make this a mini series of like three parts, max. Let me know if you liked it!)


“Well, I gotta say – you guys are becoming very predictable. I hate predictability. It takes the fun out of this,” you yelled out to the room before you.

Long ago, you had run away from your home planet with nothing but a flimsy watch and a funny looking coat. Thousands of years later, here you were, standing before an audience of Cybermen, all with the intent of spilling your ancient blood. They had closed in on you thinking you were the Doctor (a frequent mistake on other aliens’ part, annoyingly), and all you kept thinking about was smacking the infamous Time Lord upside the head when you next see him (another annoyingly frequent occurrence).

Your reputation preceded you. Often considered the darker counterpart of the Doctor (other than the Master, anyway – or as she now called herself: Missy), you couldn’t help the morbid grin spreading across your face.

“You know, I ran away all those years ago because Gallifrey was terribly boring,” you announced, pacing casually and twirling your wand between your fingers. You had taken to a tree branch long ago and it now became your sonic device disguised like a magic wand. People called you old fashioned. At least it worked on wood.

“I always felt like I had so much more to see, in the big wide universe, and frankly, the Council was collecting dust,” you continued smugly, the skirt of your theatre wedding dress you had used as an impromptu disguise fanning out behind you, “so I took matters into my own hands.

“But you’re all so boring as well,” you drawled loudly, gesturing to the amassed crowd, “and now I find myself unbothered. I don’t even want to finish you. So I won’t. You know what I will do, though?”

You spread your arms, smiling widely. The Cybermen shifted.

Suddenly, the left and right walls exploded with a force that threw the metal aliens about the room like rag dolls. Flashes of color zoomed about the room, and you heard the familiar voices shouting commands.

“Offense incoming, 11:00,” you heard Tony Stark broadcast from his Iron Man suit, shooting streams of light at the enemy. There was a flash of red and you noticed Wanda Maximoff disassembling the Cybermen metal plate by plate, a blue streak whizzing around her and throwing the aliens off their feet. Captain America and the Black Widow were in hand to hand combat, and Hawkeye was shooting explosives everywhere, blowing up Cybermen with impressive flourish.

You smirked lightly, untouched by the explosions and fighting. You walked down from the stage nonchalantly, twirling your wand as was your habit and whistling a waltzy tune. You ambled right through the mess, ducking a few times to avoid being hit by flying bits of metal. By the time you reached the end of the abandoned theatre, the fight was nearly over.

Before you could wrench the door open and disappear into your teeny space ship disguised as a motorcycle, someone grabbed your arm. You turned your head to face Nick Fury.

“Hello again… Archivist,” he said evenly, his expression the usual neutral mask. You smiled sweetly.

“Hello, Nicky,” you replied, “last time I saw you, you were just a lil’ tyke playing house with your kid neighbors!”

“And the last time I saw you, you risked thousands of lives by confronting an infestation of Zygon on your own,” he said again in the same flat tone. You shrugged.

“Time travel. It’s never quite linear,” you sighed, before making a move to leave. He gripped your arm tighter. You turned to him with a different look in your eyes, which was vaguely threatening.

“I am not to be trifled with,” you said in the same playful tone as before, successfully making your warning sound even more dangerous, “however, I will accept a bowl of trifle. I do love trifle. Or I hate it – I can never remember.”

“Let’s find out,” Fury said smoothly, turning you lightly with a gentle hand and gesturing to the other door which led outside, “I think it’s time we talked about your involvement in the grand scheme of things.”

“Grand scheme of things, eh?” you chuckled, “sounds grand. Sure, I’ll come with you, but just for a little while; I have a date with William the Conquerer – such a charmer, you wouldn’t believe.”

By now the show down between the Avengers and the Cybermen had ended, and they had all turned to watch you leave with Fury. You caught the eye of one Avenger in particular, and winked. The bleach blonde blushed.


“So, where’s my trifle?” you asked, leaning backwards into your leather chair and pushing off with your feet to make it spin a couple of times. You giggled and eventually settled down.

“It’ll come, in time. But first, I have to ask why you called us to help you with those Cybermen,” Fury asserted from behind his desk, leaning forward. Your eyes glinted.

“I thought that was fairly obvious: I needed your help.”

“Don’t play with me, I know well enough that you easily could have disposed of them on your own.”

“Well then I fancied seeing you, and I thought this would make the perfect opportunity.”

“Seriously.”

“Seriously? Okay, I try not to dispose of other creatures; the Doctor can get awfully cross when I start shooting things. It reminds him of an old friend, apparently,” you answered vaguely.

Fury sighed.

“Alright, well, as long as you’re here, I would like to make you an offer,” Fury sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I can’t believe I’m doing this, but you are valuable.”

“Compared to who, the Doctor? Will I ever be rid of that man?” you sighed dramatically, “but alright, what’s this offer you speak of?”

There was a brief pause, but you guessed before he could open his mouth.

“Oh. It’s the recruiting thing, isn’t it?” your smile grew wider, which was never a good thing in Fury’s experience, “I already told you a thousand times – I don’t want to be a part of your not-so-secret secret boy band.”

“First of all, this is the first time I’m making this offer to you. Second of all, you’re not the first person to say that, and – ”

“Yes, yes, I know, but Stark is human. I am anything but human.”

“And what about the other non-humans? Thor? Vision?”

“I may be bored, but not as bored as they are,” you rolled your eyes, “and just because this is your first time making this offer, doesn’t mean it’s my first time hearing it.”

Fury waved that statement away and looked at you again with his single eye, “Archivist, we are in need of you. Great need. We are woefully inexperienced when it comes to alien life forms, and you know more about it than anyone.”

“Why haven’t you made the Doctor this offer?”

“The British already has him on their side. We want someone else, someone of our own. Someone we can trust.”

You raised an eyebrow, “You don’t trust the Doctor?”

“We don’t trust Torchwood. Or the British government,” Fury corrected.

“How come?”

“Politics.”

“Tell me more.”

“There isn’t much else to tell you.”

“Nicky, you know better than to not tell me things,” you said, the same foreboding tone dripping back into your voice. He sighed heavily.

“Well, let’s just say, the Zygons are still an imminent threat from the last time I saw you,” he said carefully. You stroked your chin, raising your feet and resting them on the corner of Fury’s desk as you leaned back farther into your chair.

“Is that why your request has suddenly become more urgent? Because you were never so desperate before, as to bring me to your little hide-out.”

“Yes. It is. You’re the expert, Archivist. We need your help to figure out who is human, and who is alien. You’re the expert.”

Your infamous grin returned to your face. A few seconds later, you shot out of your seat and made for the door.

“Introduce me to your team, then!” you hollered over your shoulder as an acceptation, reaching the door, “I’ve met them before but something tells me this is the first time they’ll be meeting me!”

You skipped down the hallway for the Avengers tower with Fury trailing behind you, followed by an apparently pissed off Maria Hill, who did not like the idea of recruiting you. You turned the corner into the common room. Heads turned as you burst inside, flashing an Avenger’s ID which Fury had deigned to hand over to you. They got up, one by one.

“Nice to meet you, team mates!” you greeted enthusiastically, “I’ve never had team mates before! This is so exciting!”

The Avengers stood around the common room with crossed arms and raised eyebrows, not saying a thing. Steve looked like he was having some sort of epiphany.

“Have we - ?”

“Yes! We have!” you confirmed, twirling your wand with new vigor, “We met in the summer of 1936, at Coney Island! You threw up!”

You flashed him another bright smile as Clint stifled a laugh at Steve’s pink face.

“I’ve also met you, and you, and you, and… and you!” you pointed in turn at Bruce, Tony, Natasha, and Pietro.

“But we haven’t…”

“No, you haven’t. Not yet,” you nodded, suddenly serious, “except you. You’ve already met me.”

All eyes swiveled to the blonde in question, who was frowning. Wanda looked from you to her brother inquisitively.

“So, you’re a time traveller? That’s all Fury told us,” came Natasha’s cautionary voice.

“I’m a little more than a time traveler, love. I’m a Time Lady, from Gallifrey.”

“Ah!” Thor boomed, “Gallifreyan! I’ve always had a sweet spot for you folk.”

“You would,” you agreed happily, “We’re the life of the party!”

“Anyway,” you clapped suddenly, the sound making everyone jump, “trifle!”

The Avengers, though a little wary, began to warm up to you as you began conversations you already knew they would enjoy, giving them a rare chance to get to know you better and win their trust. You had Tony, Bruce, Clint, and Thor laughing in no time as you described various adventures, and Pepper and Natasha enjoyed your company as you talked about intergalactic affairs. You were also a hit with Thor and Vision as you all discussed the lunacies of humanity.

You even had a deep talk with Steve, who was still looking for his long lost friend, Bucky. You assured him all will be well, though you couldn’t reveal much else. You planned on being conveniently away when all hell broke loose concerning that matter. Sam Wilson was by his side though, so you managed to keep it lighthearted.

All of these conversations enabled you to win the trust of the team a little more, proving a nice little segway into working together, which was something very new for you. Fresh.

However, Wanda and Pietro both kept a healthy distance. You didn’t push them, however you did occasionally find yourself glancing in the speedster’s direction, thoughts spilling into your crowded mind every time you did. He occasionally caught you looking, and he held your stare like it was a competition for dominance. He felt like he was forgetting something, but before he could figure it out, you would turn away.

(A/N: So! Tell me whether I should continue or not. I most probs will, anyway, just because love Dr Who and Pietro so much. But let me know what you would like to see, or if you have any suggestions, or if you caught any errors, since both Marvel and Dr Who can be terribly complicated. Hope you enjoyed it!)

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