In between takes, David Tennant chats happily with the pupils, who are volunteers - and wannabe TV stars - from local schools. “Have you broken it?” he exclaims, when one girl snaps her watchstrap. “Ooh dear, the whole show will collapse now! We’re gonna have to cancel cos you’ve broken your watch.”
Students, students, going to and fro, students, students, students. In the middle of the throng are the Doctor, Sarah Jane, Rose, and Mickey. “It’s time I had a word with Mr. Finch,” the Doctor tells them, and heads into the school foyer.
“CUT” says James [Hawes, director], and then turns to Jon [Older, assistant director]. “The kids are walking in too fast. It needs to be five times as slow.”
“I’ve never seen anybody so keen to get to school,” agrees Elisabeth.
And then Noel thumps K9′s head so hard that one of his ears snaps off. “Is it broken?” asks the producer, Phil Collinson. “How long will it take to fix?”
It’ll take 10 minutes to fix, because the ear was linked to a servo. K9′s side panel is removed once again, and out comes the screwdriver to fix it. “No twisting the ear this time,” says James.
“Can I pretend to twist it, though?” asks Noel.
“No! Be nice to the doggie!” replies Phil firmly.
Other School Reunion bts posts here:
[ one ] [ two (chip) ] [ four ]
[ five ]
The rest of my behind-the-scenes photosets are available [ here ]
Join the K9 Unit, his Captain had said. You’re a perfect fit, he’d said, independent, aggressive, unconstrained by familiar obligations, which had been as nice a way as the Captain could ever put you’re an abrasive asshole who keeps driving off his human partners and maybe you’ll do better with one whose affection you can win back by feeding bits of your steak.
It’d been right, in its way, and Stiles did love dogs. It was nice to have someone in his apartment that wasn’t him, even though that someone came with four legs and had to learn not to crap under the window. He’d learned to love being in the K9 unit. He’d bonded with his puppy, whom was now a dog. They were a good team. They were the most effective K9 unit in the San Francisco Police Department, by many assessments.
And then someone had shot his partner.
There’s no such thing as ambulances for dogs, but Stiles had his own car with lights and a siren. As soon as his backup had arrived to subdue the armed subject, Stiles had torn off from the scene, Fett whining in the backseat. He could smell the blood and it made him taste bile in his mouth.
Now he was bursting in through the doors of the first Emergency Animal Clinic he came across, an eighty-pound dog in both arms, its head on his shoulder, making little doggish sounds of pain. “Help! Help! Definitely need help! We need help!”