Some of the things I post are not made by me. I will credit the source in every post. The portrait photo for this Tumblr was made by reversingpolarity.
Overviews of stories and the shippiness in each.
Posts I've liked
Despite Ian’s protests, the others were still standing round him watching his efforts. As Barbara had remarked, there wasn’t really a great deal else to do in the cave, and since all their lives depended on his efforts, they could scarcely be blamed for taking an interest.
'I think I can smell something,' said Susan suddenly.
'So can I,' agreed Barbara. 'A sort of scorching…'
'You're doing it!' said Susan excitedly. 'It's going to work!'
Ian’s forehead was dripping with sweat, and his wrists felt as if they were on fire themselves. ‘Not yet,’ he grunted. ‘Long way… to go… yet.’
Suddenly Za appeared from the back of the cave. ‘What is this? What are you doing?’
'We are making fire,' said the Doctor impressively.
(‘I like the “we”,’ thought Ian mutinously. ‘Who’s doing all the work?’)
In the cave of skulls, Ian, working under the Doctor’s instructions, was making a kind of bow with one of his shoe-laces and a bendy piece of wood, one of the branches at the back of the cave. A long thin piece of wood, like an arrow, was wrapped in the middle of the shoe-lace.
'I hope this works, Doctor,' said Ian. 'Sure you wouldn't like to have a go?' 'No, no, young man. I merely provided the theory. The practice calls for strong wrists and unending patience, and I have neither.'
Barbara looked at the apparatus in some puzzlement. ‘I still don’t see how you think you’re going to make fire with some kind of toy bow and arrow.’
'Easy to see you're not a science teacher,' said Ian. 'Energy into heat, remember. The idea is, I rotate the arrow bit against a chunk of dry wood, very fast and for a very long time. All my hard work gets converted into heat - and with any luck, into fire.'
'I see. The proverbial rubbing two sticks together?'
'That's right. Any boy scout is supposed to be able to do it. I only hope I can!'
Barbara pointed. ‘Look, there’s a cut in his forehead - the tiger must have stunned him.’ Ian bathed the cut, and Za moaned and stirred. Ian looked ruefully at Barbara. ‘We seemed to have missed our chance of getting away. I bet your flat must be just littered with stray cats and dogs.’
'They're human beings, Ian,' said Barbara again.
'All right, I know.'
Ian finished his slide and put it to one side. ‘Bit of a mystery…? Still, there must be a simple answer somewhere. We’ll just have to find out for ourselves, won’t we?’
'Thanks for the we,' said Barbara gratefully.
'Anyway, I finally got so worried and irritated with all this that I decided to have a talk to this grandfather of hers, and tell him he ought to take a bit more interest in her.'
Ian smiled to himself. It was very typical of Barbara to get herself worked up and go marching off to lecture some perfect stranger on his family responsibilities.