X-over fic - Dr Who and DC

[icarus_chained]

Title:  Hyperactive Brilliance
Fandoms:  Dr Who (Tennant era) and DC (Bruce is Bat, that's all I know)
Characters/Pairings:  Ten, Bruce. No pairings.
Rating:  PG
Summary:  fixing machines with the Doctor involves counting to ten, in arabic, for Bruce
Notes:  for tininess
Wordcount:  341

"Aha!"

At the sound of the exclamation, the tenth in as many minutes, Bruce leaned forward to rub tiredly at his nose, and practised counting to ten in arabic to drown the frustration. He wasn't sure that it was working.

"Yes?" he asked, acerbically, as he turned to glare at the hyperactive scientist at his back. No, his side. No, the floor to his right. Damn the man, did he ever stop moving? This Doctor had the attention span of a particulary impatient gnat. He was just lucky he was brilliant enough to make up for it ...

"I've found it!" A hand on a skinny arm wrapped in a brown suit rose up from behind a console, clutching a tool triumphantly. "Never go anywhere without a sonic screwdriver," the Doctor finished as he climbed to his feet and brushed himself off absentmindedly. "Never know when it might come in handy ..." he trailed off, his eyes going distant as he seemed to remember something. Or somethings. Bruce sighed, and shook his head, severely tempted to try and find an overhang somewhere to crouch on and sulk. But he was going to be the mature one, here. Even if it killed him.

Then the Doctor looked at him, looked at the great machine he was up to his elbows in, and his eyes sharpened with an intelligence that the Bat had to appreciate. "Mm-hmm," the alien murmured, an intrigued frown on his face. "Lets get a move on, then, shall we?"

Finally!

Why me?

Bruce thought to himself, but he couldn't help admiring the deft, precise movements of those hands beside his own as they moved relentlessly towards the solution that would get him home, and the Doctor out of his hair. Hyperactive he may be, but the Time Lord certainly knew his way around a machine. Granted, the machine in question happened to be his, but the fact of the matter was that there was a competent, knowledgable person behind that facade.

That knowledge was just enough to keep him from strangling the man.