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The Doctor Who Drabble Files

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Rory had never considered himself especially daring or brave, he’d always been more clown material than hero material. Some days he wasn’t sure how he’d ended up here, of all places, travelling through time and space with a madman in a blue box, but then he’d look at Amy, vibrant and vivacious, and it all made sense.

His Amy. He’d loved her since they were kids, had never doubted that he would always be hers, if she wanted him. He was here because this was where she was; he would go anywhere and dare anything, just to see her smile.

 

The End

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1979, the Doctor had promised, reeling off the important events of that year; world affairs, politics, science, culture… Apparently the Doctor was a bit of a punk; Ian Dury in concert was an offer Rose wasn’t about to turn down.

Really then, she shouldn’t have been surprised that instead of Sheffield in 1979, she found herself somewhere in the Scottish Highlands, from the looks of things, a century earlier, surrounded by men with rifles. The Doctor was unfazed.

“1879. Same difference.”

Well, not from where Rose was standing. For a Time Lord, the Doctor was really bad at time travel.

 

The End

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Regenerating is full of annoying complications. Bad enough that he gets a new body, with long, gangly, uncoordinated limbs, hair with a life of its own, and a brain that can’t seem to make up its mind about anything, but no one ever warns you about the taste buds.

He’s starving, regenerating takes energy, he needs to refuel, but…

Apples are disgusting, yoghurt is nasty stuff with bits in, bacon is vile and baked beans are just plain bad. As for bread and butter… the less said about that, the better.

Then it hits him: Fish fingers and custard!

Perfect!

 

The End

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Travelling with the Doctor, Clara’s seen loads of aliens, large, small, friendly, hostile, fluffy, scaly, and everything in between. Some were even so like humans it was hard to tell the difference just by looking at them.

She’d crossed paths with some of the Doctor’s most implacable enemies, Daleks, Cybermen, and Sontarans among them, yet however alien they were she’d been able to understand their motives, at least a little.

But this time they’re up against something that defies comprehension. Two-dimensional beings have found their way into the three-dimensional world, and even the Doctor has no idea what they want.

The End

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Through the last tiny gap between universes, on a bleak, windswept beach called Bad Wolf Bay, they look at each other for the last time, able to see and hear, but not to touch. It’s breaking their hearts in ways neither of them ever imagined.

The Doctor’s burning up a sun to buy them these few, brief moments; there’s just time to say goodbye, but it’s not enough, can never be enough. After everything they’ve been through together, how can they survive being ripped apart?

The gap snaps shut, leaving them both in tears, the way between universes closed forever.

The End

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It’s been a rough few weeks. With Amy and Rory staying on earth, the Doctor’s currently without companions, and after the battering she’s taken the TARDIS needs repairs.

The planet’s small, hardly more than a moon dotted with craters, but it provides a solid surface to land on and the natives are certainly friendly, if rather pink and looking remarkably… knitted. Well, he’s seen stranger creatures and he’s sure he probably looks just as odd to them.

“Thank you.” He smiles at the dragon, accepting green soup, and returns to his conversation with the natives. Good thing he can whistle!

The End

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Drabble Version

Rory’s loved Amy since they were kids. The first time he saw her, burnished red hair gleaming in the sunlight, she stole his heart; he knew he’d be hers forever.

She’s stubborn, proud, always eager for adventure, and so brave. Her courage has seen her through the worst times in her life. It’s her courage and not his own that sustains him through his darkest hours. Even when he’s alone he feels her strength, knows he can lean on her.

He’ll follow her to the ends of the universe, wait for her for eternity. She doesn’t even have to ask.

The End

 

Extended Version

Rory’s been in love with Amy since they were kids. The first time he saw her, burnished red hair gleaming in the sunlight, she stole his heart and he knew he’d be hers forever.

She’s stubborn, proud, always eager for adventure, and so, so brave. Her courage has seen her through all the bad times she’s had to endure, and in his heart of hearts he knows it’s been her courage and not his own that’s sustained him through his darkest hours. Even when she’s not there he feels her strength and knows he can lean on her.

She’s his world, and he’ll follow her to the ends of the universe or wait for her for eternity. She doesn’t even have to ask.

The End

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The Doctor’s extraordinary, unique, amazingly wonderful, and oh, he opens Martha’s eyes to things she’d never have dreamed existed, even in her wildest imaginings. It doesn’t matter that he’s an alien; she can’t help but fall in love with him. When he kisses her, out of the blue, her heart beats faster and her knees go weak, and it’s the most incredible feeling.

He invites her to travel with him; she jumps at the chance, because love makes you do crazy things.

But the Doctor’s in love with someone else and her heart breaks a little. He’ll never be hers.

The End

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Daleks, scourge of the universe. They’re cold, cruel, and deadly, determined to wipe out any living thing that isn’t a Dalek. It’s what they do, their whole reason for existing is simply to kill and keep on killing until they’re all that’s left.

They’re considered devoid of all emotion, but that’s not entirely true. They know nothing of love, mercy, kindness, sorrow, or fear, all those things and more have long been stripped away from them, but they do retain one emotion: Hate.

They hate everything, that’s what fuels them. One day, it might be what destroys them for good.

The End

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He lies to Martha, telling her stories of the beauty and splendour of Gallifrey, saying he won’t take her there because he doesn’t want to go home. Been there, seen it before, travelling is more fun. He keeps lying until Martha backs him into a corner, metaphorically speaking, and compels him to honesty. Then it all comes out.

It feels good to confess, admit the truth. He wants nothing more than to go home, but he can’t, because home isn’t there any more: his world, his people, gone forever. The only thing he doesn’t confess is that it’s his fault.

The End

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It’s not possible, the TARDIS is in flight, it simply can’t happen! The Doctor’s so shocked that all he can say is “What?” and “But…” and “You can’t do that!”

The woman in the white dress doesn’t seem to be having the same problem with words, ranting about him kidnapping her, which he didn’t, he’s sure of that, and demanding to be taken back immediately. Which he’d be happy to do, because a loud redhead appearing unexpectedly in the TARDIS is the last thing he wanted, even if he didn’t know that until it happened.

This really isn’t his day.

The End

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It’s the Time Lord way of cheating death, but though it means he continues living, it’s not without its drawbacks, nor is it painless. It’s like an all-consuming fire, searing through every cell of his body, burning away his old self, creating him anew.

Golden flames race along his nerves, shimmer across his skin, forming his body into a new shape, no longer suffering the damage that was killing his old one. When it fades away, he’s unrecognisable, even to himself, and must embark on a voyage of rediscovery to learn who he’s become.

He doesn’t always like the answer.

The End

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The Doctor loves jokes; there’s no better tool for annoying his enemies than humour, preferably at their expense. While they try to be their best evil selves, he cracks jokes, taunts them, makes them react impulsively, even irrationally. When people of any species get angry, they make mistakes. It’s a universal constant.

Besides, jokes are funny, and what’s life without a bit of fun? Dead boring, that’s what. Laughter breeds hope, and where there’s hope, anything is possible.

That’s why the Doctor always wins. Not because he’s smarter, although he usually is, but because he knows which buttons to push.

The End

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Every time he loses a companion, or has to leave one behind, he starts to think maybe it’s better that way. Maybe he shouldn’t pull these fragile little beings out of their humdrum, ordinary lives and drag them off on adventures that could get them killed, or worse.

Every time, he vows never again; they’re so short-lived, and he gets too attached to them, and then they leave, or he leaves, and it hurts. He hates goodbyes.

Every time, he travels alone, and it’s worse, because he needs his companions to be his conscience. Without them, he could destroy everything.

The End

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Amy’s changed. It’s not just that she’s older, although she is. She’s been trapped here more than thirty-six years, and it tears Rory up to think about her being alone for so long.

That’s what’s making her act so unlike the woman he loves. Not the time that’s passed, but the being alone. They didn’t mean to abandon her but it hardly matters. Intent is irrelevant when you have to fight for survival every day, knowing that no one’s coming to save you.

It’s turned her hard, angry, bitter, full of hate. The worst thing is, Rory can’t blame her.

The End

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Contrary to what his companions believe, the Doctor does sleep, he just does it when no one’s looking. Everybody needs sleep; it’s an unavoidable biological necessity, required for both psychological and physical heath. If you don’t sleep, you don’t dream, and dreams are important.

The Doctor’s seen so much in his travels. He dreams of many things, but most precious of all are his dreams of home. He sees Gallifrey as he remembers her best, the Citadel gleaming beneath its dome, the red grass and orange sky.

It’s so beautiful, so heartbreaking, that he wakes with tears in his eyes.

The End

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“Bloody Hell!” Donna peered out of the TARDIS door at the pouring rain. “Where d’you keep your umbrella?”

“I haven’t got one.” The Doctor stuck his head out the door. “It’s just rain. A bit of rain never hurt anyone.”

“If you think I’m goin’ out in that without a brolly, you’ve got another think comin’, spaceman! A girl could drown in that, not to mention what it’ll do to my hair. Drowned rat’s not a good look on anyone. Good thing I brought mine with me,” she added cheerfully. “Never know what the weather will be like in space.”

The End

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“Now this is more like it!” Rory stared around him at the tall, elegant, crystal and glass spires that were everywhere he looked, like magnificent cathedrals shining in the sunlight. He’d wanted to visit a properly futuristic alien city and finally he’d got his wish. It was everything he’d imagined it would be, and then some. “So where are we? Alpha Centauri? Betelgeuse? Canis Major?”

“Ah, well, not exactly.” The Doctor shuffled his feet a bit. “We’re in Oxford.”

“What?”

“Oxford, earth, twenty second century. Sorry.”

“Huh. It’s changed a bit.”

“Oh, not that much really. It still has spires!”

The End

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It’s not every day you hop on a bus, accidentally go through a door in space, and end up on a desert planet with nothing but sand as far as the eye can see. All things considered, the Doctor decides the passengers are handling the situation pretty well.

It’s hot; deserts are like that. Being inside a metal bus in a desert isn’t ideal, but it’s better than the alternative. Outside, they’d probably roast. Everyone is scared and worried, but they needn’t be. After all, they’re lucky. They’re with the Doctor, and one way or another, he’ll get them home.

The End

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There’s a swimming pool aboard the TARDIS. Not some piddling little one either, it’s full size, you could hold the Olympics in there. Donna’s kind of impressed because… Well, indoor swimming pool inside a police telephone box! She doesn’t even try to understand how that works, or how the water doesn’t all slop out when they’re travelling through the vortex.

Slipping off her shoe, she dips her toes in the water; it’s pleasantly warm. She should probably fetch her swimming costume first, but the temptation is too great.

She doesn’t know who’s more embarrassed when the Doctor catches her skinny-dipping!

The End

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The motorway traffic’s been driving for years. The youngest passengers have only ever known the interior of their car and the view, hazed by exhaust fumes, of car upon car, in front, behind, to both sides, above, and below. From time to time different vehicles drive in and out of sight, but everything else remains the same.

Until now: it’s all about to change.

The roof opens far above, daylight streams in, the smog-laden air starts to clear, and the cars rise, heading for the surface. The largest traffic jam in the history of the universe is over. Freedom awaits.

The End

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The planet’s night, so shrouded by cloud that not a single star is visible, is nevertheless lit by billions of tiny sparks in every colour imaginable; they zip through the air like tiny shooting stars, leaving trails of light in their wake. It’s a sight so amazing that Amy doesn’t realise she’s holding her breath until she starts feeling light-headed.

“It’s beautiful! What are they?”

“Insects, like fireflies but more complex. Each colour is a different species; they swarm on the darkest night of the year to find mates and breed. It’s one of the greatest spectacles in the universe.”

The End

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With each regeneration the Doctor changes, not just in his physical appearance but in his personality, his dress sense, his likes and dislikes. It’s always something of an adventure learning about his new tastes, especially in terms of food and drink, but the adventure is not always a pleasant one. Sometimes he finds he now loathes things he’d always enjoyed before.

Some things remain constants though. Throughout all of his incarnations, he’s hated pears, loved bananas, and no matter what else changes, he knows there’s nothing better than a nice cup of tea. It will always be his favourite drink.

The End

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A new face, body, and mind always mean a change of wardrobe. Often when he regenerates, he finds his old clothes no longer fit, and that’s even if they survive whatever caused his regeneration.

One of his first tasks, once everything has settled and his new brain can think coherently, is to find something to wear that suits not just his physical appearance but also his new personality. It can take a while, trying on countless outfits, but he knows the right look when he finds it.

Not until he’s fully dressed does he finally understand the person he’s become.

The End

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His style has changed many times over his regenerations. There’s been velvet and lace, long scarves and floppy hats, umbrellas and pullovers, cricket whites and celery, suits and sneakers, jeans and leather jackets, tweed and bowties, even a fez or two. The Doctor always knows what looks cool; he’s an intergalactic trends-setter with his own unique sense of style, oft imitated but never bettered. It’s a good thing the TARDIS contains such an extensive wardrobe.

But no matter what eclectic outfit he chooses to wear, there’s one thing he’s never, ever without. He simply feels undressed without his trusty sonic.

The End

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There’s a whole vast universe to explore, not to mention all of time. The Doctor can literally go anywhere, and anywhen, he chooses. There are no limits. So it’s a mystery to him just why he keeps ending up on planet earth in the twentieth or twenty-first centuries.

“Castle? Why is there a big blue box with ‘Police’ written on it standing in your living room?”

“Search me. It wasn’t there this morning.”

The door opens and a head pops out. “Excuse me, could you tell me where I am? I seem to be lost.”

“Okay, I wasn’t expecting that!”

The End

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Travelling by TARDIS isn’t always completely safe. Safer than most forms of travel, true, but even a living spaceship can’t predict every eventuality. Nor can an over nine hundred-year-old Time Lord. Besides, some incidents are just so unbelievable that it wouldn’t cross the mind of even the smartest person in the universe to consider them.

When you’re way out in the depths of space, getting hit by a boat definitely falls into that category. But there it is, the bow of a ship sticking right through the wall of the TARDIS. Complete with a lifebelt.

The Doctor’s understandably confused.

“What?”

The End

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A whisper of sound, so faint it’s right on the edge of hearing. If the Doctor’s ears weren’t so sharply attuned to the breathless silence filling this place, he would have missed it and then… Well, it wouldn’t be a good thing.

No time to think about that right now though; their hiding place has been discovered, the only thing to do is run as fast as they possibly can, like the hounds of Hell are nipping at their heels.

Perhaps they are, in the form of the creature hunting them. The Doctor doesn’t intend to wait and find out.

The End

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Amy waited for so many years, longing for her Raggedy Doctor to come back for her. When he finally does, she knocks him out with a cricket bat. It’s not an auspicious beginning, but he did come back, even if it took a bit longer than five minutes, and he does save her, along with the whole world. That’s what heroes do, after all, and she has no doubt that the Doctor is her hero.

It takes millennia trapped inside the Pandorica for her to realise she was wrong. The Doctor is everybody’s hero, but loyal, devoted Rory is hers.

The End

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The Doctor and his TARDIS can go anywhere in time and space. It’s amazing, the possibilities are infinite, and now he’s offering Amy and Rory the trip of a lifetime, their choice, like a pre-wedding holiday before they get hitched and start married life. How do you choose when you can pick literally any place and time, past or future or another world?

But their wedding is tomorrow, so their destination needs to be romantic, and where could possibly be more romantic than Venice? Canals, Gondolas, people speaking Italian…

They could have done without the vampires and mortal peril though.

The End

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Once upon a time, the beings who called themselves the human race had existed on just one small blue and green planet they called earth. That’s where they evolved and grew to become sentient, over time inventing all kinds of technology and eventually developing space flight.

By now humanity has spread across the universe, scattered among the stars, colonising every suitable planet they can find and mixing their gene pool with compatible species. Purebred humans are rare, but that’s just fine, the hybrids are more adaptable.

Earth itself is empty; everyone has left. This is the day the world ends.

The End

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“Don’t worry!” the Doctor cries. “Everything’s under control, I know exactly what I’m doing!”

“You have a plan?”

“Yes! Well, no, not quite yet, but I will have. I always come up with a plan, I just don’t what it is yet.”

“If that’s meant to be comforting, it’s really not.”

“Oh come on! You humans, always panicking over nothing!”

“We’re about to die, I hardly think that’s nothing!”

“We’re not going to die. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“It ran away and hid, which is what we should do!”

The Doctor never worries. He leaves that to his companions.

The End

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Trying to be a normal human is interesting. There’s so much to remember; paying rent, proper greetings, being complimentary to the landlord…

Showers are great; all that hot water, and good acoustics for singing. Just have to remember to undress before standing under the water, and put something on when you get out. Towels are good. Wet floors are slippery, and electric toothbrushes aren’t effective weapons, even if you’re in a hurry because someone might be in danger.

Still, the Doctor feels confident that he’s fitting in. He can be just as normal as the next man if he tries.

The End

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Gravity varies, planet to planet; sometimes it’s so low that a world’s inhabitants are barely held to its surface, bounding along in great leaps, almost flying. On other worlds, the strength of gravity is so great that the natives are only a few centimetres tall, creeping slowly over the ground.

The Doctor avoids high gravity planets. Although the TARDIS creates its own gravity field, to step outside her door on such a world would mean certain death, crushed flat in an instant. That’s something even a Time Lord couldn’t survive.

But zero gravity, well, that’s the best fun of all.

The End

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The humans who colonised this world call it Spring; Amy thinks they chose the name well. The weather’s as balmy as the finest spring day on earth; warm sunshine, a few small, scattered wisps of cloud, a gentle breeze, and everywhere an abundance of green and growing things, a riot of colourful flowers.

Then there’s the native fauna. Small, fluffy creatures like dandelion clocks, tufty, feathery things, the planet’s equivalent of birds, larger grazing animals, even a few species of carnivores… None of them walk; they bounce or leap or bound. It’s dizzying to watch.

She can’t help but laugh.

The End

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Drabble Version

Sarah Jane dreams sometimes of things that never happened, the earth destroyed by Daleks, Cybermen, or other beings she can’t even put a name to. One thing is always the same though: earth’s in peril and the Doctor never comes. Humans face the threat bravely, but it’s never enough.

She saw so much travelling with the Doctor; then he left her behind. She waited, but he never came back, and now she can’t help wondering… When she dreams of things that never happened, is she seeing the future? Will earth eventually fall because its protector has better things to do?

The End

 

Extended Version

Sarah Jane dreams sometimes of things that never happened, of the earth invaded, enslaved and destroyed by Daleks, Cybermen, Sontarans, or other monstrous beings she’s never seen and can’t even begin to put a name to. But in every dream, one thing is always the same: the earth is in peril and yet no matter how many times they plead for help, the Doctor never comes. Humanity faces each threat with all the courage and defiance they can muster, but it’s never enough.

She saw so much, maybe too much, during her travels with the Doctor, but then he left her behind, abandoned her to normality, and though she waited patiently, he never came back. Now, she can’t help but wonder… When she dreams of things that never happened, is she seeing what’s to come? Will the earth some day fall because its protector has found better things to do?

The End

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The Doctor claims he never gets lost, it’s just that sometimes he’s not entirely sure where he is. It’s not like it matters anyway; sooner or later he always figures out the exact where and when of their location, it’s simply a matter of taking a look around, and maybe asking the locals.

That’s the big thing, because when in doubt, you can be fairly certain that the locals can set you straight. Bound to know, if they live there, right? Besides, where’s the adventure if you always know exactly where you are when you get there? That’s just boring.

The End

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“I challenge you!”

It’s not the first time the Doctor has taken on the role of Earth’s champion, and it probably won’t be the last, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be an easy fight.

The leader of the Sycorax is the more experienced swordsman, right now the Doctor can’t remember if he’s ever even held a sword before, but he’s as bound now by the rules of combat as his opponent is. If he wins, earth is safe. If he loses…

That’s not an option. He’s not sure what kind of man he is, but he’s about to find out.

The End

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Drabble Version

Everything the Doctor does has consequences, every act creates a reaction; the problem is in gauging whether his actions will benefit or harm those he’s trying to help.

Push someone and they’ll inevitably push back, that’s how the universe works. For a human, Newton was pretty smart, but the Doctor knows a few things Newton didn’t. For instance, the reaction doesn’t necessarily follow immediately; it might take years, even centuries. That’s why having a time machine is so handy. If something goes awry, he can simply pop into the future and fix it.

A Time Lord’s work is never done.

The End

 

Extended Version

The Doctor is well aware that everything he does has consequences, every act creates a reaction; the problem is always in gauging whether the results of his actions will benefit those he’s trying to help, or harm them in ways that he’s failed to predict. Even a Time Lord can’t be expected to get things right every time.

If you push someone, they’ll inevitably push back, that’s just the way the universe works. For a human, Newton was a pretty smart guy, but the Doctor knows a few things that Newton didn’t. For instance, the reaction doesn’t necessarily follow the action immediately; it might take years or even centuries. That’s why having a time machine is so handy. Whenever something goes awry, and that happens more often than you might think, the Doctor can simply pop into the future and fix it again.

A Time Lord’s work is never done.

 

The End

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Daleks are big on revenge, the Doctor expects it from them. Same goes for Cybermen, Sontarans, and a dozen other warlike races who really don’t like to lose. He can handle anything they throw at him, with a bit of ingenuity and quick thinking.

This is a bit more unexpected.

Thwap!

“That’s for leavin’ me in those bleedin’ stocks all afternoon.”

Thwap!

“That’s for draggin’ me through the mud! My shoes are ruined!”

Thwap!

“And that’s for puttin’ me up for sale in the first place!”

“You volunteered for that!”

“Don’t care!”

Nothing prepared him for an angry Donna Noble!

The End

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What was it about aliens and quarries? It seemed like anytime alien races came to earth, they made straight for the nearest quarry, preferably disused, and set up base there. Maybe abandoned quarries reminded them of home; there were a lot of bleak, rocky worlds in the universe. The Doctor had visited a fair few in his travels; there was no accounting for taste.

On the other hand, battling the enemy in a remote quarry had its advantages. Fewer people around to get hurt or captured; damage was restricted to rocks rather than buildings.

Best of all, hardly anyone noticed.

The End

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Two thousand years pass so slowly, one second following another, the tick, tick, tick of the universe almost audible to Rory. But it’s okay, because he has a job to do, a singular purpose more important to him than anything ever has been, or ever will be. He’s guarding the greatest treasure there is, his Amy, and he’ll never leave her.

He’s living plastic, doesn’t need to eat, never sleeps, but time teaches patience so he endures, watching dispassionately as the world changes around him. A lesser man would go mad.

But not Rory. Amy’s safety is all that matters.

The End

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The Face of Boe had been waiting for this moment a long, long time, patient as only one so immensely old can be. He’d seen more than any other being that had ever lived, more even than the Doctor, his oldest friend, but finally his time was running out. He’d used his life force to protect the people in the under-city for the past twenty-four years. Now their salvation was at hand and he had just enough strength left to complete one final act.

He had a message for the Doctor.

“You are not alone.”

With that, he was gone.

The End

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Magic is nothing more than science not yet understood; that’s something the Doctor knows, and he uses it to his advantage. Primitive people are easy to impress with trickery; calling it magic sets them in awe of him.

Not that it always works, especially in places where ‘magic’ and ‘witchcraft’ are considered one and the same. Then things can get a bit sticky, especially as witches are, more often than not, put to death. He’s had more than his share of close shaves. But whenever ‘magic’ gets him into trouble, he can always rely on science to get him out.

The End

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The Doctor loves earth history, there’s so many interesting bits; kings and queens and pharaohs, great writers and composers, scientists and astronomers who sometimes get things mostly right… Earth’s still young by galactic standards so there’s a lot that humans haven’t figured out yet.

It’s not all good though. Great civilisations rise, only to fall to war, or natural disaster. He can’t change things that are meant to happen.

They’re in Pompeii, it’s volcano day, and everyone’s going to die.

Donna’s not having it.

They can’t save everybody; fixed point. But who would it hurt to save just a few?

The End

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Self-belief is something the Doctor knows quite a lot about, mostly because he has so much of it. He believes he has a purpose, and that he does what he does for a reason; perhaps the universe itself set him on his course and continues to guide him, sending him where he’s needed. After all, why else would he end up somewhere he didn’t intend to go, at exactly the right moment to save lives, defeat threats, solve crimes, prevent disasters, or free entire worlds from tyranny?

He’s fulfilling the role he was created for, and it’s so much fun!

The End

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Not everyone is haunted by ghosts. For some it’s the past that fills them with terror, or the future, or seemingly innocuous things that wouldn’t bother most people. Like socks, or balloons, or having their photo taken. Sometimes it’s that scary monster you saw in an old horror movie you shouldn’t have been watching when you were a kid, the one that gave you nightmares for months afterwards.

The hotel is vast, like a constantly shifting maze, and every one of its many rooms contains someone’s worst fear.

But something even more terrifying stalks the corridors, and there’s no escape.

The End

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Amy thinks he’s like the imaginary friend in a kid’s story, all boundless energy, gangly legs, eyes that twinkle with mischief, and hair that seems to have a life of its own. Everything’s an adventure to him, and he drags her along in his wake, getting her into one scrape after another, until she’s giddy and breathless.

She knows he’s a terrible influence on her, but she can’t resist going with him whenever he shows up, because even though it’s often scary and dangerous, the thrill of it all outweighs everything else.

He’s like an addiction she just can’t break.

The End

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The Doctor is well aware that he comes across as an irascible, crotchety old man, but how else is he supposed to act around these humans? In some ways he’s just behaving the way they expect him to. He looks like an old man, and indeed is old by their standards though still young by his own, so he treats them like the children they are.

He’s impatient with them, orders them around, because dealing with such primitive intellects is frustrating. There’s so much they don’t understand. But at least they’re trying to learn and that counts in their favour.

The End

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Like all Time Lords, the Doctor knows about regeneration; it’s a handy way of cheating death. You get a new body, face, and personality. Until now, the knowledge has been abstract, theoretical; it’s something he’s never experienced personally. But…

The face looking back at him from the mirror is unfamiliar, his new personality even more so. He’d never thought of the Doctor as whimsical, but the word seems to fit who he’s become. It’s like the Doctor, the one he was before, was another person altogether, someone he once knew.

Regenerating is very confusing. He’s not sure he likes it.

The End

Chapter Text

His hair is almost white again, but there’s much more of it. He appears younger than his first incarnation, but older than his second, and looks more… distinguished, perhaps. He’s certainly gained a more authoritative demeanour.

The clothes he chooses to reflect his new persona are flamboyant; velvet jackets, frills and lace-trimmed cuffs to his shirts, even a cape. He’s a man of style and elegance, the kind of person even UNIT’s bigwigs can’t help but listen to, at least some of the time. Just as well since he’s currently stuck on earth. Hopefully he can do some good here.

The End

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The earth is being invaded, but the Doctor is sick and getting worse; there’s nothing he can do to help them. They’re on their own and they’re completely helpless.

Rose wishes she knew what to do; she’s helped the Doctor take on the worst that the universe can throw at them. He always comes up with a plan and it always works, but without him she’s worse than useless. All she can think to do is to run and hide in the only safe place there is. The TARDIS.

She prays that the Doctor will wake up and save them.

The End

Chapter Text

Twelve hours! The Doctor said they’d been gone twelve hours! For a Time Lord, his sense of time is unbelievably bad. Twelve hours? Try twelve months. That’s how long she’s been missing, leaving her mum worried sick wondering what happened to her only child, imagining the worst.

Guilt hits Rose like a punch to the gut. She’s been off having a lark, travelling the universe with the Doctor, enjoying the best time of her life while her mum’s been going through hell.

“I meant to phone. I really did. I just forgot.”

No amount of apologies will ever be enough.

The End

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The night sky is featureless, velvet black, an emptiness so deep and dark it sucks at Amy’s soul every time she looks at it. She knows it’s exactly how it’s always been, has never been any different, and yet at the same time, she knows it’s completely wrong.

She remembers how it was before, but before what, she can’t recall. All she’s sure of is that there used to be stars, like brilliant, sparkling diamonds scattered across the blackness, and they were beautiful.

Everyone tells her they never existed, but it hurts so much that they’re gone.

She misses them.

The End

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It’s Amy’s wedding reception, she’s just married Rory, the man she loves more than anyone in the world. This should be the happiest day of her life, so why does she feel so sad? Their families and friends are here to celebrate with them, there’s music and laughter and dancing…

Amy looks down at the book in her hands and a tear drips onto it. Everyone who matters is here, except for one; someone so incredibly important to her is missing.

But she remembers. Her imaginary friend, her raggedy Doctor, is real.

And just like that, he isn’t missing anymore.

The End

Chapter Text

For Martha, it begins in the most extraordinary way possible. The whole of the Royal Hope Hospital, with all its staff and patients, is ripped from the ground and deposited on the moon. It’s incredible, unbelievable, has to be some sort of mass hallucination because if it’s real, why aren’t they all dead from the vacuum of space?

They almost do die, because there’s not an unlimited supply of oxygen and over time the air gets bad. But a man calling himself the Doctor saves the day then invites her to travel with him.

Extraordinary? She hasn’t seen anything yet!

The End

Chapter Text

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. They were going to carry on forever, two best mates travelling the universe, seeing amazing things, saving worlds, and just generally being brilliant. Because she’s like him now, knowing and seeing everything, and she understands the Doctor in ways she couldn’t before. His insane-sounding ramblings make perfect sense now.

In a way, that’s the worst part, because Donna’s head is starting to hurt and she understands what’s happening.

Her overloaded brain is killing her.

She doesn’t want to lose her memories, no matter what it costs.

The Doctor doesn’t give her the choice.

The End

Chapter Text

The Doctor wasn’t expecting to run into his old friend and travelling companion, not right now and certainly not like this, in the storeroom of a school. In a way though, it isn’t really strange; over the centuries he’s become accustomed to expecting the unexpected, and for once the surprise is a pleasant one.

Sarah Jane looks amazing. She’s older of course, but she’s still the same vibrant, intelligent, courageous woman he remembers from their many adventures together. It’s good to spend time with her again, but they’ve both moved on.

At least this time they get to say goodbye.

The End

Chapter Text

They’re like mirages, illusions, things not quite there, ripples in the fabric of time and space. The people of earth call them ghosts, believe them to be their dear, departed relatives and welcome them into their homes, but the Doctor senses they’re not what they seem.

People see what they want to see. The figures are vaguely humanoid; it’s easy to imagine a resemblance to parents, grandparents, friends. But belief doesn’t create fact or alter truth.

When the eerie figures finally step through the veil, they’re not ghosts, they’re something far more deadly.

And it’s too late to stop them.

The End

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Rose had given her heart to the Doctor, that impossible, wonderful man, without a second thought; no other man could possibly measure up to him. She didn’t care that he wasn’t human, he could offer her a life more packed with adventure than anything she could have found on boring old earth and she would have followed him to the ends of the universe.

She’d never believed it would end.

Now she’s standing on a windswept beach in Norway, looking through a crack between universes, and her heart is breaking. There’s no way across, they’ll never see each other again.

The End

Chapter Text

The Doctor’s talking nonsense again; Rory smiles vaguely, letting it wash over him. He knows to the Doctor, what he’s telling them isn’t nonsense at all; it’s just difficult explaining certain things to people who don’t have advanced degrees in sciences that probably aren’t even taught on earth yet.

For his own sake, Rory has long since given up trying to follow the Time Lord’s convoluted ramblings, they just make his brain hurt, but he can’t completely tune them out either in case something important is mentioned.

Rory’s far from stupid, but he wishes the Doctor would use smaller words.

The End

Chapter Text

Travelling through time was a wonderful thing, and quite addictive. The Doctor got to meet the most interesting and influential people, often before they became famous.

Shakespeare was only one of many writers his path had crossed. He’d met Milton and Byron, Mary Shelley and Bram Stoker, H.G. Wells and C.S. Lewis.

And then there was Tolkien. He’d been writing The Hobbit at the time; they’d had an interesting conversation about stuff. The Doctor remembers telling him, ‘Just because someone wanders, it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re lost.’

He’d been chuffed to find Tolkien had paraphrased that idea in his book.

The End

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Amelia asks Santa to send someone to help with the crack in her wall, because she doesn’t know who else to ask and everyone knows Santa can do anything. He has flying reindeer and can come down chimneys, even when the fire’s lit, so surely he’ll help.

The raggedy man calls himself the Doctor. He’s funny and Amelia immediately likes him. He looks at the crack and she’s sure he can do something about it, but first there’s trouble with his box.

“I’ll be back in five minutes.”

People always say that; she wishes this time it would be true.

The End

Chapter Text

Discovering the truth of a situation is really a lot like fishing. You bait your hook with curiosity, or sometimes with bribes and promises, dangle it in front of everyone you meet, and wait for someone to bite.

If you do your fishing well, you get lots of nuggets of information. The useless ones you discard, but the rest you use as bait for bigger fish. Bt-by-bit you work your way up the food chain until you catch someone who can tell you everything you want to know.

When it comes to the truth, the Doctor is an excellent fisherman.

The End

Chapter Text

In John Smith’s dreams, he’s someone else, living an amazing, incredible, unbelievable life full of impossible things. Sometimes when he wakes it seems as if his dreams are the reality and his life as a schoolmaster is the dream

In his dream-life he has two hearts, many faces, a blue box that transports him to distant places, and a whole array of implacable enemies he has to battle. It’s terrifying and exhilarating in equal measures, but sometimes he wishes he could just remain asleep and dreaming.

His life is so ordinary; only in his dreams does he feel truly alive.

The End

Chapter Text

The Chandler is a wizened old woman, and Rose watches in fascination as she dips the wicks into the bubbling vat of tallow, each time adding another layer that must be allowed to set before the candle to be is dipped again, growing a little more each time.

These aren’t the fancy scented candles she’s used to back home, the ones designed to add fragrance and atmosphere to a room. They’re purely practical, for lighting the homes of those who can’t afford oil lamps, and they smell awful.

Once again, Rose is grateful she comes from a place with electricity.

The End

Chapter Text

Drabble Version

The Doctor doesn’t know where the teleport chamber has transported him to, why, or on whose orders, but he intends to find out, and if whoever’s responsible had anything to do with Clara’s death, they’re going to be very, very sorry. One thing the Doctor knows about this regeneration is that he’s not the forgiving kind.

Leaving the teleport room, he explores his environment, a stone tower like part of a castle, seemingly devoid of other life. But if there’s a castle there must surely be a castellan. The Doctor will find him and get his answers, whatever it takes.

The End

 

Extended Version

The Doctor has no idea where he is; where the mysterious teleport chamber has transported him, why, or even on whose orders. He intends to find out though, and if whoever is responsible had anything at all to do with Clara’s death, they’re going to be very, very sorry. One thing the Doctor has learned about his current incarnation is that he is not the forgiving kind. Vengeance is not his usual way, but there are exceptions.

Leaving the teleport room, he sets out to explore his unknown environment. By leaning out of one of the small windows, he discovers that he’s in an immense stone tower, like part of some ancient castle, and seemingly devoid of other life.

And yet, it stands to reason, if there’s a castle there must surely be a castellan. The Doctor vows to find him and get his answers, no matter what it takes.

The End

Chapter Text

“I’m thinking of getting a tattoo,” the Doctor announces one day, completely out of the blue, causing Amy to stop so suddenly that Rory walks into her. She grabs him just in time to keep him from falling over.

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why d’you want a tattoo?”

“I don’t know; tattoos are cool. Body art’s very popular in some places.”

“What would you get?”

“Haven’t really thought about it. What d’you think?”

“Blokes usually get their girlfriend’s name,” Rory suggested.

Amy shook her head. “The TARDIS would be better. We could all get one! Matching TARDIS tattoos would be really cool!”

The End

Chapter Text

He does have a name, given to him by his parents when he was very small, but he never uses it. That name is his most closely guarded secret because even beyond all folktales and superstition, names have power.

Besides, since he left the Academy as a fully-fledged Time Lord, his name hasn’t been required, his chosen designation is all the identification he needs, and in many places he doesn’t even use that. On most worlds, the people have their own names for him. Not all of them are flattering or entirely accurate, but they suffice.

Anonymity has its benefits.

The End

Chapter Text

Most living beings travel the slow path, each day of their lives following the one before, an endless progression until their deaths. Subjectively, the passage of time varies; for some the pace of life is slow, unhurried, while for others it passes so fast that if they so much as blink they might miss it.

For Time Lords it’s different. Where others see time as a one-way street, to the Doctor and his fellows it’s more like pool. They can dip into it wherever they choose, but must take care not to cause too many ripples.

Time can be fragile.

The End

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The Doctor likes to think he improves with age. When he first started flitting around the universe in his purloined TARDIS, he’d been hardly more than a callow youth, despite resembling an elderly man with a touch of the mad scientist.

Some of his regenerations look younger than others, making it seem that he’s ageing backwards, but no matter how youthful he looks, each new body still contains all the accumulated knowledge and experience of his former selves, even if it’s not always readily accessible.

Age doesn’t necessarily equal maturity though. Youth is for those old enough to enjoy it.

The End

Chapter Text

The Doctor hadn’t understood, nobody had, until Amy showed them.

Everything they’d been doing had been completely unnecessary; they’d caused unimaginable suffering to an innocent creature for no reason. All the Star Whale had ever wanted to do was to help. The last of its kind, alone in the universe, it had sought a new purpose, but instead of accepting the help it freely offered, they’d trapped it, built on it, made it their spaceship and forced it to cooperate by means of torture.

So Amy freed it, but it didn’t leave. Now it carries humanity across the universe willingly.

The End

Chapter Text

It’s been an insane few days, battling monsters, but that’s life on the TARDIS. No matter where they intend to go or what they mean to do, they always seem to end up running for their lives, or saving people Donna never would have dreamed existed before she met her new best mate.

It’s mad, exhilarating, terrifying, and wonderful, but now they’re both feeling battered and bruised, not to mention completely knackered.

“You know what we need?” the Doctor asks. “A nice cup of tea.”

Donna grins. “I’ll go put the kettle on.”

Even in space, tea makes everything better.

The End

Chapter Text

Every action has consequences. Sometimes they’re good, sometimes bad, but when you travel with the Doctor, doing the wrong thing can be catastrophic. Rose is learning that the hard way.

All she’d wanted was to meet her dad; he’d died when she was a baby so she’d never had a chance to know him.

Instead, she saves his life and almost ends the world.

There are horrible red-eyed flying creatures. The Doctor calls them Reapers, says they’re sterilising the earth. They can’t be stopped…

…Unless what Rose did is undone.

Every action has consequences, and Pete’s death saves the world.

The End

Chapter Text

Even after everything Martha’s seen, this is hard to accept. She’s a medical doctor, she knows how reproduction works, and it’s not like this. Yet she can’t ignore the proof.

A tissue sample’s all it takes, the Doctor’s hand is forced into a machine and a couple of minutes later, there she is, a young woman, grown from his cells. Even Sontarans take longer than that!

The method of reproducing people is bizarre enough to leave Martha off balance, but what’s even harder to take in is that this woman is essentially the Doctor’s daughter.

She looks nothing like him.

The End

Chapter Text

The Doctor’s reputation goes before him; sometimes it seems as if everyone they meet knows who he is. At first it’s a constant surprise when he’s recognised in unlikely places, but after travelling with him for a while, it’s almost more of a surprise when he’s not.

His enemies know him by name, if not always by sight. He tells her he’s worn many faces in his life and she wonders what he means by that. Is he a master of disguise or something?

Not until he regenerates in front of her does she understand how truly alien he is.

The End

Chapter Text

It happens almost overnight. Everything is the same as it ever was and then suddenly, the earth is haunted by millions of ghosts. After the initial panic wears off, people in every country of the world welcome the ghosts into their homes, treating them like the long-dead relatives they believe them to be. They seem harmless, after all; why should anyone suspect that they’re not what they seem?

The more people believe in them, the stronger they get, and when they finally break through, nobody’s prepared.

Rank after rank of metal monsters march through the streets.

The invasion has begun.

The End

Chapter Text

Martha’s beginning to understand how Alice must have felt.

Everything had seemed so normal this morning. Then that strange man on the street took his tie off at her, and the same man was there on the ward but said it hadn’t been him on the street, and when she listened to his chest he had two heartbeats!

Next thing she knows, the entire hospital is somehow on the moon, there are men in black motorcycle helmets and leathers, a bunch of rhinoceroses in space suits stomping about cataloguing everyone, and she’s running for her life.

She must be dreaming.

The End

Chapter Text

It’s her worst Christmas ever. Madge dreads having to tell her children their father won’t be coming home again, but she doesn’t want to ruin the holiday for them; if they don’t know, they can still enjoy this magical season. She wishes she could hide the truth from herself because her heart is breaking.

But terrifying and wonderful things happen that can’t possibly be real yet somehow are, and in the midst of everything, a miracle occurs. The caretaker says it’s her doing, that Reg followed her home. She doesn’t entirely understand, but that’s not important.

Her husband is alive.

The End

Chapter Text

Amy’s not completely sure whether she’s annoyed or amused. They’re in New York, picnicking in Central Park for goodness sake. The Manhattan skyline is all around them, it’s incredible just being here, there’s so much to see and do, yet the Doctor’s got his nose buried in some detective novel about a female private investigator.

She doesn’t care if he’s more interested in his book than in his surroundings, but does he have to read it out loud with so much relish?

On the other hand, it’s kinda nice listening to him.

As long as he stops with the yowzah!

The End

Chapter Text

He’s as dangerous as he is cool, and everyone knows it, that’s why most keep out of his way. Only a fool would cross him, but it’s a big universe and there are plenty of fools only too willing to try. It never ends well for any of them.

You’d think people would learn from the mistakes of others, yet they all seem to think they have the edge over those who came before, that they’re smarter, more powerful, better equipped.

They’re always wrong.

One by one, he takes them down.

This is the Doctor’s universe, and he’s its protector.

The End

Chapter Text

It wasn’t fear that made him use the chameleon arch to hide himself away among humans. The Family of Blood were dangerous, certainly, but he’d faced far worse enemies and stood firm.

They kept following him though, with their stolen vortex manipulator, and he knew they’d never give up; wherever he went in time or space, they’d be right behind him. Hiding was his only option, but they hadn’t understood. They’d kept hunting him; even hiding hadn’t been enough.

He’d wanted to spare them, but they’d wanted to live forever, and now they would.

Be careful what you wish for.

The End

Chapter Text

The Doctor finds aliens everywhere he goes, but in all the time he spent on earth, he never knew the Silence were there. Or maybe he did, maybe he found them over and over again, but just like everybody else on the planet, he always forgot them the moment they were out of sight.

How do you fight something you can’t remember, something that can make you forget it so completely you don’t even question your own lack of memories?

The Doctor found a way. The people of earth will never remember the Silence, but they’ll kill them on sight.

The End

Chapter Text

It’s the goal of every Dalek to exterminate anything that isn’t a Dalek. It makes for a rather monotonous existence but Daleks don’t care because they can’t get bored or dissatisfied with their lot in life; the only emotion they’re capable of feeling is hate, it’s hardwired into their bodies and their shells so completely that it defines them.

Inside the Dalek’s casing, hooked up to it via electrodes attached to her head, Clara has control over its movements, but she can’t change its basic nature. When she says the words ‘I love you’, all that comes out is “Exterminate!”

The End

Chapter Text

As Donna and the Doctor stand in the middle of a bleak and empty plain, on some remote planet no one on earth has ever heard of, the tops of the distant mountains, way off on the horizon, suddenly seem to catch fire.

The planet’s sun is slowly rising, its light catching the crystals that millennia of weathering by wind and rain have exposed on the mountain peaks. They sparkle in every conceivable colour, their radiance so dazzling that Donna’s grateful for the protective goggles she’s wearing.

“Pretty isn’t it?” the Doctor says, grinning at her.

“Pretty? It’s bloody incredible!”

The End

Chapter Text

Martha thinks that to anyone but the Doctor, the situation on earth would appear hopeless. The Master is in control, destroying cities and people on a casual whim. His emissaries, the Toclafane, carry out his orders gleefully; they seem to delight in murder as much as the insane Time Lord himself.

Even though she doesn’t fully understand the Doctor’s plan, Martha does her part willingly. Walking the earth, spreading the word, is exhausting, terrifying, and lonely, but she clings to hope because it’s all she has.

As long as the Doctor lives, there’s no such thing as a lost cause.

The End

Chapter Text

Donna Noble’s no fool; she knows how lucky she is. Most people never even get a first chance to travel with the Doctor. When she turned him down all those months ago that should have been it.

At the time she’d been too raw from everything that had happened to her, but even that short time with the infuriating spaceman had opened her eyes to things she couldn’t possibly have imagined before.

Now he’s back, they’re investigating the same thing, but this time she’s ready. When he leaves she’s going with him, and she’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer.

The End

Chapter Text

When he sees Rose walking down the street towards him, everything else goes straight out of the Doctor’s head. It’s impossible, unbelievable, but she’s real, and he runs towards her.

He doesn’t see the Dalek.

The extermination beam just grazes him, but that’s more than enough. Gravely wounded, his body failing, his companions carry him back to the TARDIS.

He’s a Time Lord so he won’t die, at least not this time; he’s not out of regenerations yet. Still, he’s reluctant to let go of this body. Maybe he doesn’t have to. He shunts excess energy into his spare hand…

The End

Chapter Text

Travelling with the Doctor doesn’t always mean running for your life from mortal peril, although there’s certainly a lot of that involved. After all, the Time Lord’s main reason for existing seems to be to seek out trouble, wherever it lurks, and put a stop to it.

But in between the madcap adventures and the desperately heroic rescues against seemingly impossible odds, there are moments like this, lying on their backs in a grassy meadow, watching three moons go into eclipse and feeling completely at peace.

Amy doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of witnessing the wonders of the universe.

The End

Chapter Text

“This,” the Doctor announced, throwing his arms out and turning slowly to indicate their surroundings, “is the biggest sweet shop in the universe. It’s been in existence for as long as anyone can remember. I used to get my jelly babies here. They sell every kind of candy ever invented in the whole universe.”

“It’s like something out of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,” Rory commented, looking around in awe.

“Well, it would be,” the Doctor grinned. “This is where Dahl got the idea for his book.”

“Are you telling me that Roald Dahl was an alien?”

“Of course.”

“Huh.”

The End

Chapter Text

The Doctor picked up a strange object, studied it carefully, and stuck out his tongue, but before he could try an experimental lick…

“Oi, Spaceman, why d’you go around licking everything?” Donna asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

“Tongues are very sensitive organs I’ll have you know, especially Time Lord tongues. I can tell a lot about things with a quick lick, analyse them right down to the molecular level, tell what they are and what they’re made from in an instant.

So saying, he gave the thing a good lick.

“So what is it?”

He pulled a face. “Sour!”

The End

Chapter Text

“No such thing as Robin Hood.”

The Doctor had been so sure he was right and that Clara would be disappointed, but the figure before them dressed in Lincoln green certainly looks a lot like the Robin Hood of legend. Not that the Doctor has any intention of believing it. He must be an illusion, or an impostor, or something. Robin Hood isn’t real and nothing will convince the Doctor otherwise.

Being both right and wrong at the same time is interesting; this Robin isn’t a real person, he’s a robot.

But that doesn’t prevent him from being a hero.

The End

Chapter Text

“Where to now?” The Doctor grins maniacally, bouncing on his heels as he waits for Donna to make up her mind. “All of time and space to choose from,” he reminds her. “Anywhere at all!”

“Alright, I heard ya the first time! Let a girl think for a mo, Spaceman!” He’s always so impatient; sometimes she wishes he’d just stand still for once. “Ooh, I know! Let’s go see Elvis! Gramps is a big fan, I could get him a souvenir, maybe an autograph or something!”

“Elvis? Well, alright. Before he leaves earth or after?”

For once, Donna is speechless.

The End

Chapter Text

Rory thinks this is what being a great detective must be like. Sherlock Holmes maybe, or Poirot, or… Well, the Doctor seems to have more than a little Columbo about him. The thought makes Rory snigger to himself.

“What’s funny?” Amy hisses as they sneak about searching for clues to whatever’s going on here.

Rory shakes his head; this isn’t the time or place. He knows if he tries to explain it to her now he’ll lose it, and he doesn’t want them getting captured because of a giggling fit. “Tell you later.”

When did his life get so weird?

The End

Chapter Text

It comes as something of a relief to realise that River’s ‘marriage’ to the monstrous and very untidy King Hydroflax is a sham, a charade, an act to keep her close to him until she figures out a way to get at the priceless diamond lodged in his brain.

Now that’s the River the Doctor knows, sneaky, unprincipled, larcenous, and attracted to shiny things. The universe isn’t about to implode after all; it just seemed like it might for a bit.

On the other hand, she’s talking about murdering someone… Perhaps he shouldn’t have left her alone for so long.

The End

Chapter Text

The research facility beneath the lake is different, even exciting once they realise something weird is going on. There are strange phantoms stalking the corridors and each death adds another to their ranks.

Excitement soon turns to fear though, and Clara almost wishes she hadn’t been so eager for another adventure. Be careful what you wish for because it might not seem quite as appealing when you get it.

The Doctor is a ghost now, although he’s still alive and trying to fix things in the past. Clara can only pray his plan works before they run out of time.

The End

Chapter Text

There are shadows in the library, shadows that shouldn’t be there, shadows with nobody to cast them, and that’s bad, because although the human eye perceives them as shadows, they’re really not. They’re something infinitely worse.

They’re known as Vashta Nerada, shadows that melt the flesh, a vast and perpetually hungry swarm, piranhas of the air. Let those shadows fall across any living thing, and the Vashta Nerada will strip flesh from bones in moments. They can’t be fought.

They’re not every shadow, but they can be any shadow, so if you see a shadow that shouldn’t be there…

Run.

The End

Chapter Text

How did they come to this?

Back on Gallifrey, lifetimes ago, they were boyhood friends, inseparable, but staring into the Untempered Schism changed that. It was a rite of passage for all those wishing to enter the Academy to become Time Lords; afterwards, neither one of them was quite the same. It changed them in ways the Doctor thinks they will probably never fully understand.

Now, instead of close friends, they’re in opposition, the Doctor always trying to mend things and people while the Master constantly seeks to tear down and destroy.

From friends to archenemies, where will it end?

The End

Chapter Text

The Doctor has seen all manner of strange beings in his travels, from bizarre but harmless creatures to implacable enemies. He’s borne witness to war and plague and natural disaster, and while he’s never been left unmoved by the things he’s seen, both good and bad, he’s seldom been spooked.

Daleks are his greatest foes, Cybermen aren’t far behind, but while he fears what they might do, he’s not afraid of them. In their way, they’re understandable and can be fought.

The Vashta Nerada are a different matter entirely; not even the Doctor can fight shadows. He can only run.

The End

Chapter Text

Carrionites are just witches by another name, and witchcraft, magic, is merely a different sort of science. Human science utilises numbers where the Carrionites are all about words.

They hold more power than you’d think.

The right words in the right order, spoken in the right place at the right time, can do anything, even cause the world to end. That’s not something the Doctor is keen on seeing happen. He rather likes the earth and its people.

Earth needs a champion; to fight words, you just need better words, so who better than Shakespeare?

All’s well that ends well.

The End

Chapter Text

Halloween is an earth thing. Other worlds have their own superstitions and traditions, their own days when the dead are supposed to be able to contact the living, or the other way around, but nowhere else has turned it into such a commercialised entertainment. It’s unbelievably tacky.

Surrounded by a swarm of small trick-or-treating vampires, witches, fairies, ghosts, and superheroes, the Doctor somehow gets swept up to a front door. The owner of the house looks at him, puzzled.

“What are you supposed to be?”

“I’m the Doctor!”

“Oh. Very good, have some candy.”

Oh yes, Halloween is completely brilliant!

The End

Chapter Text

Drabble Version

“Trust me, and push.”

Amy can’t help Rory fall to his death, even if he’s convinced the paradox will resurrect him. She can’t push, but she can fall with him, because live or die, her place is beside him.

They fall, and they’re back in the graveyard. They won; the angels are defeated.

But one remains, with enough power left to zap Rory into the past, leaving a gravestone bearing his name.

Amy knows what she needs to do; there’s room on the stone for another name. It’ll be fine, she’ll be with Rory, they’ll live their lives.

She blinks.

 

The End

 

Extended Version

 

“Trust me, and push.”

Amy can’t do it, can’t help the man she loves to fall to his death, even if he’s convinced that the paradox will bring him back again. She can’t push him, but she can fall with him, because live or die, her place is with him, by his side, in his arms.

They fall, and just like that they’re back in the graveyard. They won; the angels are defeated.

But not all of them, one remains, and it has enough power left to zap Rory into the past, leaving behind a gravestone bearing his name.

Amy knows what she has to do; there’s room on the stone for one more name. It’ll be fine, she’ll be with her husband, they’ll live a good life.

She blinks.

The End

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It takes time to gather enough wood, piling it high. The Doctor does it himself, the hard way, his penance for… what exactly? Failing to save his old friend? The Master was the only other Time Lord left; now the Doctor is the last of his kind again. It hurts.

So he builds the biggest bonfire he can, a funeral pyre for his childhood friend, wishing things hadn’t ended this way. The Master could have regenerated. Why didn’t he? That question will never be answered now.

Lighting the fire, consigning the lifeless husk to the flames, the Doctor walks away.

The End

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“Where do you want to go first?” the Doctor asks his new companion. “Anywhere in time or space, the universe is your squid!”

“Oyster, Doctor. The saying is, ‘The world is your oyster.”

“Oysters are boring. I like squid better.”

“You and Jack both.” It was muttered, so the Doctor didn’t quite catch the words.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Ianto smiled benignly. “How about we start close to home and work out from there? I always rather wanted to see Guy Fawkes’ attempt at blowing up the Houses of Parliament. Gunpowder, treason, and plot.”

“Ooh, good choice! Off we go!”

The End

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Stepping from the TARDIS, the Doctor threw his arms wide, breathing in the air of this new planet.

“Smell that air!” he enthused. “Did you ever smell anything like that before? All those flowers, it’s the most fragrant planet in the universe!”

Clara breathed deeply and smiled. “It certainly does smell flowery.”

“Come on, we should explore!” the Doctor grinned, leading the way out into the fields of blooms.

And hour later, they were heading back to the TARDIS, the Doctor’s enthusiasm noticeably dampened. His nose and eyes were red and he was sneezing continuously.

“Much too flowery,” he decided.

The End

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Even when he’d been very young, the boy had been regarded as a prodigy.

“That one will go far,” his parents were told. “As soon as he’s old enough, he must be enrolled in the Academy. He has the potential to become a Time Lord.”

The boy wondered whether anyone would bother asking him if he wanted to be a Time Lord. Didn’t he get any choice in the matter?

Looking back, the Doctor wonders what his life would have been like if he’d taken a different path. He has countless regrets, but becoming a Time Lord isn’t among them.

The End

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The Doctor has always considered himself a healer, someone who fixes whatever’s wrong, making everything better. He doesn’t understand how he became this man. He never wanted to be a soldier, a warrior, fighting this soul-destroying war.

He doesn’t deserve the name Doctor, not anymore, but after so many centuries of existence, it’s stuck in his head, his indelible identity.

Now he’s in possession of the most powerful weapon ever devised, fully intends to end the war by destroying Daleks and Time Lords alike. He doesn’t want to survive the destruction, but if that’s his punishment, then so be it.

 

The End

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There’s a girl who volunteered to be frozen when her family fell on hard times.

There’s an old man whose heart has turned so hard within him it might as well be as frozen as the girl. In its way, perhaps it is.

The Doctor believes both can be thawed. It’s a bit tricky, but if that fellow Charles Dickens can change Scrooge…. Should be a piece of cake.

It’s not, there are false starts, but the Doctor’s never been a quitter. Change the past, just enough, and the future changes too. If he gets it just right, anything’s possible.

The End

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It’s good when nice things happen. With the way the Doctor’s life goes, nice things are something to be grabbed onto when they happen. Because in five more minutes you could be running for your life from some terrible creature intent on destroying the universe, and you right along with it since you happen to be in the way.

No doubt there’ll be more running later, but now’s the time to make merry, to celebrate the Ponds’ big day. He couldn’t be there for the wedding, but he’ll make the most of the party food and dancing.

Dancing is good!

The End

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Somehow it’s appropriate. Maybe it’s because of who and what he is, but the Doctor supposes he should have expected his own wedding to take place in the middle of a crisis, not to mention a combat zone.

River doesn’t seem to mind too much, though he’s sure she would’ve preferred something a bit less rushed and perhaps a little more elegant. She loves wearing nice gowns and she cleans up well. Come to think of it, she’s rather lovely whatever she wears. He should probably tell her that at some point.

Later.

Right here and now they’re getting married.

The End

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Rory gaped. “What is that?”

“Be polite, Rory,” the Doctor chastised. “On her own world she’d be considered rather beautiful, it’s hardly her fault she doesn’t measure up to the human ideal.”

“Sorry,” Rory said sheepishly, “she just looks like one of Doctor Frankenstein’s creations. It took me by surprise.”

“When Mary wrote her book, Frankenstein’s monster looked human, just stitched together from parts. The movies gave him that flat-headed look and the bolt through his neck everyone associates with her monster these days. Humans seem to prefer their monsters to look grotesque.”

Rory nodded. “I’ll try to remember that.”

The End

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Whatever you wanted to call it, werewolf or lupine wavelength haemovariform, the claws and teeth were impressive. Rose was torn between abject terror and giddy excitement, because… werewolf! A creature of myth, not supposed to exist, and now one was hunting them!

The Doctor would fix this; he always did. But still, hearing it sniffing and scratching away outside the library, either unable or unwilling to enter because of the mistletoe oil impregnating the walls, sent chills down her spine.

Sooner or later, the mistletoe would no longer be enough to protect them, so they’d better find something that would.

The End

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No matter how dire the situation might seem, there’s always a way out, an escape clause if you will. It’s simply a matter of finding it and using it to your advantage. The Doctor’s good at that, but then he’s had hundreds of years of experience, so perhaps he has an unfair advantage over most people.

Whenever he finds himself in a tight spot, his brain works constantly, calculating probabilities and possibilities, loopholes and boltholes, whatever works. It might look as though he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but most of the time it’s simply that he doesn’t know yet.

The End

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Father Christmas, Santa Claus, Old Saint Nick. Call him whatever you like, he’s still the same fellow. The Doctor knows him by a different name: Jeff.

They hang out now and then, sometimes just the two of them, sometimes with others. There was that time in 1952, at Sinatra’s hunting lodge; that was fun.

“So, Jeff, how’s tricks?”

Santa Claus smiles through his beard. “Oh, you know me, Doc. Can’t complain!” Not that he would anyway, he’s never been the complaining sort. “How about you?”

“Oh, this and that.” They sip their tea companionably. The Doctor loves these little chats.

The End

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“Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall…” Jack stared to sing.

“O!” The Doctor nudged him hard with his shoulder, the only thing he was able to do since the three of them had their hands tied behind their backs and their legs tied at the ankles. They were sitting in a row against the wall, the Doctor in the middle, Jack on his right, and Rose on his left. “Don’t start that again, it was bad enough the first five times; one more time and my head might explode!”

“Great!” Jack grinned. “Might blow a hole in this wall!

The End

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Somehow, the Doctor always seems to gravitate back to Earth; he often wonders why he’s so drawn to the planet and her people. Maybe it’s because humans seem to need his help more often than other races; after all, aliens do target them a lot.

So he’s back here yet again, and so are the Autons, causing trouble as usual. This time a young shop assistant has been caught up in their schemes. After so long alone, it feels good to have someone running beside him once more.

Maybe it’s time to make a fresh start, with a new companion.

The End

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The Doctor is firm in his resolve, knows what he must do and is determined to follow through, whatever the cost. The fate of the whole universe depends on him; what’s one small planet compared to that?

Innocent people have already sacrificed their lives in order to buy him the time he needed to construct the Delta Wave, and now at last it’s finished. All he needs to do is activate the signal and every living creature within range will die, Daleks and humans alike.

What is he, coward or killer?

Resolution crumbles; he can’t do it.

“Coward, any day.”

The End

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It’s the biggest library in the universe, the biggest that has ever existed anywhere, and it takes up a whole planet; millions of rooms filled with endless shelves, and books beyond counting. They’re the real thing, tangible volumes with paper pages, all collected together, sorted by year of publication and then by subject.

It’s a resource used by billions, and yet it’s unaccountably empty. Oh, there are books everywhere, but where are the readers? The place should be teeming with people, echoing to the sound of footsteps and rustling pages, but instead there’s only silence.

Something is very wrong here.

The End

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As a young girl, Reinette was innocent, gentle, full of curiosity and wonder. As a grown woman, she’s lovely, gracious, charming, but still as curious as ever, though now with a quick wit and sharp intellect to go with her other attributes.

The seemingly sudden transformation from child to woman, at least from the Doctor’s perspective, is unsettling although it probably shouldn’t be. It’s not the first time he’s met the same person at different stages of their lives, but the period between meetings is usually longer than a few minutes.

Time here has been accelerated. It’s really rather confounding.

The End

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The Doctor feels he has every right to be miffed. After everything he did, this is how he’s repaid?

It’s not as if he’d been expecting to be knighted or anything, but he saved Queen Victoria’s life, among others, and sent the werewolf away from earth, to wherever it wanted to go.

Now as a reward he’s being banished from earth? How ungrateful is that? It hardly seems fair.

Then to add insult to injury, Her Majesty sets up the Torchwood Institute and makes him public enemy number one in their charter. What did he ever do to deserve that?

The End

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There’s something magnetic and irresistible about the vibrant woman with the wild red hair. She makes the Doctor more than a little uncomfortable.

She acts like she knows him, even though he’s sure he’s never met her in any of his lives. She calls him Sweetie and when he tries to find out what they are to each other, at some indeterminate time in the future, she won’t tell him. All she’ll say, with a teasingly flirtatious expression on her face, is “Spoilers!”

Nevertheless, he’s sure of two things about Professor River Song; she’s trouble, and he’s flirting with disaster.

The End

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The Doctor’s not sure how long he’s been sitting here, wallowing in misery, trying to drown his sorrows, but the bartender just rang the bell for last call. Pushing his empty glass across the bar, he says, “Fill ‘er up again, my good man,” and watches the amber liquid flowing from the bottle. It’s almost hypnotic.

Donna’s gone. She’d blossomed as they’d travelled together, fulfilling the magnificent potential he’d seen in her, being awesome, and now she won’t remember any of it. It’s not fair.

Picking up his glass of ginger ale, he drains it. Time to go on alone.

The End

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The Doctor loves to be on earth in the springtime, especially in Britain. It’s all so damp and green, with everything growing, and trees bursting into blossom, pink and white clusters of flowers, like bits of candyfloss have been scattered among their branches.

It’s not just the plants either; the whole little island always appears to be bursting at the seams with new life in spring. Everywhere you look there are nests crammed with baby birds, lambs and bunnies frolicking in the fields, calves and piglets and baby goats, long-legged foals…

Watching them makes his old heart feel young again.

The End

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“I don’t get it.” He really didn’t. Big men in weird costumes, grappling with each other in a small ring in front of a cheering and jeering audience; it made no sense to him.

“It’s entertainment,” Rory shrugged.

One man picked up his opponent and threw him against the ropes. The thrown man rebounded and knocked the first man flat on his back. The Doctor frowned. “Why didn’t he step out of the way? Wrestling was never like this in ancient Greece.

“It’s choreographed,” Amy explained, slurping on her drink. “More an exhibition than a fight. Have some more popcorn.”

The End

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“Don’t do that!” the Doctor shouted as Rose reached to pluck a pink flower from a slender plant, standing by itself in a sunny spot.

“What? Why?” Rose asked, confused. “Are plants like this one sacred to the people who live here or something?”

“Not exactly.” The Doctor shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and grinned that crazy grin. “Plants like that one ARE the people who live here, and they don’t take kindly to having bits pulled off them while they’re sunbathing.”

The plant in question turned to glare at Rose, who took a step back.

“Oops. Sorry.”

The End

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“Where are we?”

“Martha, have you met my friend?”

Turning around, Martha looks up and her heart skips a beat as she sees the massive statue looming over her.

“Oh my God! That’s the Statue of Liberty!”

Even after travelling back to Shakespeare’s time and then visiting an alien world far in the future, somehow this is the most impressive thing she’s seen yet, because it’s familiar, recognisable, and the other side of the Atlantic. New York, a place she’s only ever dreamed of visiting but always wanted to see.

Travelling with the Doctor really does mean anything is possible!

The End

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Mayor Margaret Blaine, also known as Blon Fel Fotch Passamer-Day Slitheen, seems to think the Doctor is some kind of fool.

She’s wrong of course, as the Doctor proves. Repeatedly.

She distracts him and poisons his drink. He switches their glasses.

She fires a poison dark from her finger. He effortlessly catches it.

She breathes poison gas at him. He retaliates with breath freshener.

Finally she resorts to pleading for compassion, freedom.

But she’s a killer; she killed the woman whose skin she’s wearing, and she’ll never change. The Doctor understands her only too well.

Maybe they’re not so different.

The End

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Killing isn’t the Doctor’s way, not if he can help it. He prefers to live and let live.

There are exceptions of course, there always are: Daleks, Cybermen, those for whom killing anyone not of their kind has become so ingrained into their society that allowing them to continue their wholesale slaughter of other races is intolerable. For the most part though, life is too precious, people of all kinds too marvellous and extraordinary, to rob them of their chance to see what they can become.

Evolution is a wonderful thing, except when it isn’t natural.

Professor Lazarus must die.

The End

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Donna thinks she’s getting the hang of this travelling through Time and Space. She and the Doctor go somewhere, or somewhen, find something that needs fixing, and then save the day.

It’s exciting, scary, and completely mad, but it’s the most fun she’s ever had in her entire life and already she never wants it to end.

So here they are, on the planet of the Ood.

Benign beings, gentle, peaceful, but they’re being mistreated. Donna already knows that look in the Doctor’s eyes. Something’s about to kick off, and it’ll probably involve loads of running.

Here they go again!

The End

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They huddled under an awning as the rain poured down. Amy knew she should be used to the Doctor’s appalling sense of direction, but honestly, this took the cake. All she wanted was to head back to the TARDIS and get dry.

She dug her elbow into the Doctor’s side. “Barcelona, you said. You promised us a planet with noseless dogs, not a trip across the channel.”

“Alright, so I got the wrong Barcelona. It happens.” The Doctor shook rain from his hair.

Rory stared gloomily at the wet streets. “Somehow I always pictured Spain as being sunny,” he sighed.

The End

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The Doctor isn’t sure whether the term ‘pacifist’ fits him or not. On the one hand he abhors violence and the use of weapons, preferring to find peaceful, non-violent solutions to any situation he and his companions might find themselves in. Killing disgusts him, and taking lives denies those killed a chance to redeem themselves.

On the other hand, if fighting and even killing becomes necessary, as in his endless war against the Daleks, he can and will destroy his enemies wholesale.

He tries to keep his dark side buried, hidden from sight, but he’s always aware of its presence.

The End

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“Ever so useful, string is,” the Doctor said brightly, tying a knot in the piece he’d wrapped around his finger. “I never go anywhere without a ball of string. You can tie things together with it, hang things up, even use it to keep from getting lost. It’ll hold your trousers up if you lose your belt, or replace a shoelace if you break one, and if you get bored you can tie knots in it.”

“So why’s that bit tied around your finger?” Amy asked him.

“To remind me to get another ball of string of course!” he replied.

The End

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As a child, Amelia Pond had loved fairytales. Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, the Princess and the Pea, Rapunzel, Little Red Riding Hood; they were all stories of wonder and enchantment, where heroines triumphed, monsters were slain, and the prince got the girl.

But there was one fairytale young Amelia loved more than all the others, and it didn’t appear in any book. It was the tale of a little girl and her friend, the Raggedy Doctor, who would one day return and whisk her away on the most magical adventure of all, out among the stars.

It just hadn’t happened yet.

The End

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The Doctor has long since learned that ‘improbable’ and ‘impossible’ are two very different things. No matter how unlikely something might seem, it’s a very bad idea to rule it out because for some reason, when he’s involved improbable things have a peculiar tendency to become facts, and anything that probably won’t happen almost inevitably does.

The most sensible thing to do is to just assume anything is possible given the right circumstances and that degrees of probability are constantly changing. It won’t help you anticipate the unexpected, but you’ll be better equipped to deal with it when it happens.

The End

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Martha stopped dead in front of a TV display in a shop window. “Doctor! You have to see this! I have a horrible feeling we’re not in our universe anymore.”

“Why d’you say that?” the Doctor ambled back to her.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but…” Martha pointed towards the biggest TV. “Don’t those characters look an awful lot like cartoon versions of us?”

The Doctor watched the action on the big screen for a moment, frowning. “Now you mention it, they do rather. What is it?”

“I think it said ‘The Infinite Quest’, something like that.”

“Oh dear. Spoilers!”

The End

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Doors let people in and out, or sometimes just in. You can’t always trust doors; some only go one way, and then you’re trapped with no way out.

The Pandorica is like that; it’s a prison, designed to keep someone in; to get out you need outside help, which the Doctor has. All it took was a bit of time-hopping by his future self.

Rory opens the Pandorica to let the Doctor out, and when it closes again, Amy is inside. It’s meant to be the perfect prison; now it’s going to save a life, and maybe the whole universe.

The End

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Martha’s never been afraid of hard work, but this is something else. For the Doctor’s sake, to help maintain his disguise, she’s working as a maid in a boarding school where the Doctor is hiding as one of the schoolmasters.

If she ever gets her old life back, the real one, she’ll never complain about doing housework again, because washing machines, electric cookers, vacuum cleaners, and all the other mod cons of twenty-first century life make chores so much easier than they were before the First World war.

If she has to scrub many more floors she’ll develop housemaid’s knee!

The End

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The Doctor knows he’s a bit of a magpie, but he can’t help himself. Shiny objects, interesting things, bits of string… anything that catches his attention and doesn’t seem to belong to anyone somehow ends up in his pockets.

That’s the downside of having pockets that are bigger on the inside; even he doesn’t know exactly what’s in them. One in long a while he’ll have a clearout, rummaging around and rediscovering things he’d completely forgotten. There are probably drawers full of miscellaneous objects throughout the TARDIS, but still he can’t stop.

“Oooh, shiny!” And into his pocket it goes.

The End

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The figure rising from the water is impossible. It’s looks like an astronaut, dressed in a suit that could have come from the Apollo moon landings. It doesn’t belong here, and yet it does. The Doctor has seen it before, knows what it’s there for, and knows what has to happen next.

This moment is a fixed point, it’s inevitable, and it can never be changed.

Or can it?

Trapped inside the suit, River is helpless, watching as her prison zaps the man she loves over and over, just as she saw once before.

Only this time, it isn’t him.

The End

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The TARDIS bounces around through space and time, landing here and there so the Doctor can investigate this mystery, or solve that problem, save a world or battle an enemy. There’s always somewhere new to go, another wrong to set right.

So wherever they travel, she waits, quietly, patiently, until the Doctor does whatever he came to do. It’s fine, she knows it has to be this way, he has responsibilities and it’s her role in life to help him any way she can.

But for her, the best part will always be in-between times, and the freedom of flight.

The End

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He doesn’t remember. He’s John Smith, an ordinary man with an ordinary job, and a woman who loves him. That’s who he wants to be, a good man with a good life. Why can’t he stay that way?

Martha says he’s the Doctor, an alien who travels through space and time. She says everything he remembers is a lie, that the Doctor is needed, that John has to become him again. He doesn’t want to.

If he becomes the Doctor again, John Smith, with all his hopes and dreams, will be gone. It isn’t fair.

But he has no choice.

The End

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It’s nuts! The whole situation is completely nuts! One minute she was walking down the aisle in her wedding dress, the next she’s been kidnapped by a madman in a flying blue box!

That sounds like the worst thing that could ever happen to a bride on her wedding day, but it turns out it’s not; everything goes downhill from there, so fast it makes her head spin. Lance doesn’t love her; he’s just been using her to help some alien spider thing.

Donna’s hurt. She feels like a fool, but mostly she’s angry.

Even worse, she still loves him.

The End

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Donna and the Doctor have completely different ideas of what a vacation should be. He wants to be off visiting the planet’s tourist attractions, but all Donna wants to do is relax, lounging by the pool, maybe going to the spa.

Travelling with the Doctor is fun but exhausting. The past few months she’s been run off her feet, literally. She hasn’t run so much since PE lessons at school. It’s alright for spaceboy, he’s got energy to burn, but Donna needs a break.

Let him chase across the plant looking at waterfalls if he wants. Sunbathing is much nicer.

The End

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Everything is wrong, and Donna doesn’t know why she thinks that. Things are the way they’ve always been, right? They must be, because everything doesn’t just change overnight with nobody noticing, and yet…

Why do people keep staring at her back? Did somebody stick something there?

Then there’s the blonde girl, Rose, who keeps popping up out of nowhere. Eventually Donna goes with her. What else can she do? The stars are going out, everything’s going to hell. That’s when she learns there IS something on her back, a beetle. It’s been there all along, but somehow she just… forgot.

The End

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George is scared of everything, so scared all the time that his plea for someone to save him from the monsters reaches the Doctor in the TARDIS, far away in space and time.

It’s so unusual the Doctor can’t ignore it. Nobody, especially not a child, should be afraid all the time, and he’ll do whatever he can to help.

But George is no ordinary child, he’s not human, he’s an alien cuckoo in the nest, and he’s scared that his parents don’t want him. Once the Doctor understands, the problem is easily fixed. All it takes is unconditional love.

The End

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John Smith sits at his desk; the only sound the quiet scratching of pen on paper. He dips the nib in the inkbottle again and continues to write, deftly blotting away excess ink to keep it from running. It’s a habit so ingrained he doesn’t need to think about it.

He has to get the details of his latest dream down in his notebook before he forges them. His head is filled with images; faces of people, the outlandish forms of monsters, strange devices. He’d never realised he had such a vivid imagination.

Maybe one day he’ll publish his stories.

The End

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He’s one of the most famous artists in the world by Amy’s time, but like so many, in his own time his talent remains unrecognised. Vincent Van Gogh can’t even sell a picture for the price of a drink.

But he has pride, dignity, and the desire to paint, so a struggling artist he remains, through the ups and downs of his life, which seem to be mostly downs.

To Amy though, it’s still a privilege to spend time with one of the world’s greatest artists. It’s just a pity he doesn’t know how much he’ll be admired one day.

The End

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Back home, Donna had often gone to the allotments with her grandfather late at night, sitting outside his little shed in all kinds of weather, staring through his telescope as he showed her the wonders of the universe. Constellations and planets, comets, meteor showers, and a total lunar eclipse; he’d seemed to know so much.

Thinking back on those times, she wishes he could be here with her now, and not countless light years away on earth, sitting in the dark, stargazing. He belongs here, actually out among the stars and seeing everything firsthand. She knows he’d love every minute.

The End

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It isn’t fair, but when has the universe ever been fair? It’s big and complex and full of as many horrors as there are wonders, but fair has never been an adjective the Doctor would use to describe it. Even Time Lords are too insignificant to rate any special treatment from the immensity that is the universe, so what chance does an accidental human Time Lord metacrisis have?

None whatsoever.

The only thing the Doctor can do for Donna now is wipe her mind clean of all her memories of their travels, everything she’s seen and done.

It isn’t fair.

The End

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Despite what humans think, they’re not the first sentient species on planet earth; the reptiles came first. Dinosaurs didn’t just come into existence and then die out to make way for mammals; they reigned supreme, changing and evolving over time, until after many thousands of years, the Silurians ruled the planet.

The trouble is, humans believe earth to be theirs while the remaining Silurians see them as apes, invaders and usurpers of what rightfully belongs to them. After all, they were here first.

Once again, it looks like the Doctor will have to broker a peace between the two species.

The End

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We envied the Time Lords; we wanted what they had. Eternity. Our lives were finite, our time fast running out, but we wanted to live forever.

We were hunters, could sniff out anyone, anywhere; Time Lord scent was unique. He was the last, our only chance, we only had to find him and take what we wanted.

It wasn’t as simple as we’d thought; he tricked us, but we still found him and gave him no choice. Now we’ll live forever, but not as we wanted. He trapped us all.

Be careful what you wish for; you might get it.

The End

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The man has no shame! Men, women, aliens of any species, it makes no difference as far as the Doctor can tell. Captain Harkness will flirt with anyone. Given the slightest hint of encouragement, he won’t stop at just flirting either. Unbelievable! He can’t be trusted with an innocent greeting; he says ‘Hello’ like he’s inviting whoever he’s addressing to join him in bed!

The Doctor isn’t a prude, or perhaps he is, but the fact remains that he can’t take Jack anywhere without putting interstellar relations in jeopardy. He’ll have to keep his new passenger on a tight leash.

The End

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The Doctor has done many things over his long life that he’s not proud of, but one stands out above all, and the burden of shame and regret is heavy on his shoulders.

If allowed to continue, the Daleks would have destroyed every other race in existence; he couldn’t allow that. He thought of himself as a healer; someone who fixed things, made them better, someone who helped others. He wasn’t a killer, and yet…

To end the Time war, he committed genocide not once but twice, destroying his own people along with the Daleks.

And it didn’t even work.

The End

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Nothing has felt right to the Doctor since Rose was sucked into another dimension. Everything’s drab, grey, lifeless, and he’s weighed down by a crushing sense of loss. There’s little point to anything, he’s hollowed out inside, his hearts beat too slowly, and he half expects to crumble into dust.

It’s been a long time since he last felt so devoid of hope.

Then a woman appears in the TARDIS, all red hair and fury, and against his will he’s swept into another adventure. Donna Noble, his candle in the darkness. Without even trying, she restores his will to live.

The End

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Rose has been missing for a year, just went out one day and never came home. For twelve long, terrifying months, Jackie’s been living every mother’s worst nightmare. She has no idea whether her daughter’s out there somewhere, alive, or buried in a shallow grave.

When Rose shows up on the doorstep, casual as you please, like she just popped out to the shops, Jackie’s torn between gratitude at having her back, and anger over the months of worry she’s been put though.

The anger takes precedence at first, but in the end she’s just grateful that Rose is alright.

The End

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The first time had been an accident; the Doctor hadn’t wanted another travelling companion, not after Rose, and Donna had been annoyed about getting abducted from her wedding. It hadn’t exactly been an auspicious start, and the events that followed… Well, it was understandable that Donna hadn’t been willing to uproot herself from her familiar life and take off into the unknown. It was too soon.

Now though, Donna was all set, in fact she was amazingly organised. The Doctor found that a bit disconcerting, but…

“Here it is then, the TARDIS. Welcome aboard.”

This was going to be amazing.

The End

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Mysteries are the Doctor’s stock in trade, his bread and butter, his reason for being. Seeking them out and solving them keeps his brilliant mind occupied and entertained, because for someone who’s lived as long as he has, boredom is the greatest enemy.

The universe is vast, and having a time machine makes the possibilities almost endless. No matter how many mysteries he solves, there are always more to investigate. He dreads the coming of a day when no more mysteries remain, because then there would surely be nothing left to give him purpose, and that doesn’t bear thinking about.

The End

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It’s right in front of Amy, ugly, bald, grotesque, a cadaverous head with empty, sunken eye-sockets and no mouth, wearing a sharp suit and tie combo, like it’s trying to fit it. The outfit only makes it look even more unearthly and out of place.

She remembers seeing it at the lake, but then she must have forgotten about it, which is strange. How could she forget something so… menacing?

With no mouth, there’s no way it can speak, yet she hears it anyway. She’s seen tons of weird stuff, travelling with the Doctor, but this thing is downright creepy!

The End

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The opulence aboard the train is impressive, it’s like stepping back in time to a grander age, where travelling for the sake of travelling was something only the rich did, and they could afford to do it in style. The Doctor tells her it’s a re-creation of the original Orient Express, only bigger; Clara can well believe it. Not that it’s overly spacious, but still…

If she’s really going to stop travelling with the Doctor, this is a good note to go out on. One last trip, seeing something that no one else on earth in her time ever will.

The End

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It’s impossible, there’s no way this can be real. It has to be some kind of mad dream, or more likely a nightmare. Perhaps she’s hallucinating; the pressures of her internship and all her family issues finally making her crack up. It makes more sense than the Royal Hope Hospital being transported to the moon, and it would explain why there’s still a breathable atmosphere…

Martha really wishes she could believe her explanation, but everything is too real to be so easily dismissed. It’s overwhelming, but she can’t afford to lose her head. Panicking isn’t going to help the patients.

The End

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The old adage ‘When in Rome’ is as true out in space as it is on earth. Every planet has its own customs and laws, just as every species has its own idea of what is acceptable behaviour and what most definitely isn’t.

Even the Doctor doesn’t always get it right; he’s been wandering through space and time for centuries, yet he still gets himself arrested. Admittedly, sometimes it’s intentional, but more often than not, it’s because he contravened local laws in some way he wasn’t aware of. It’s an occupational hazard.

Travelling with him is nothing if not educational.

The End

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The Doctor never stays in any one place for very long; the wanderlust is too strong for that. It’s in his blood, and that’s always been the case, since long before his first regeneration.

It’s what compelled him to steal an obsolete TARDIS and take off for the unknown, travelling throughout space and time, exploring and discovering.

In many ways, the companions he chooses are the same; they share his spirit of adventure. Perhaps that’s how he finds them, or they him, like calling to like. The wanderlust courses through their veins too, a blood fever only travel can satisfy.

The End

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Time Lord technology allows the Doctor to do things nobody else would even consider attempting; it gives him the kind of skills that amaze and mystify others. People look at him like he’s a magician or miracle worker.

Doesn’t hurt his image.

He’s particularly proud of his glass of water in the pocket trick; it isn’t just the TARDIS that’s bigger on the inside. Anyone else would carry liquids around in bottles, but then you have to open the cap to take a drink… His way is more convenient as well as being impressive.

Unfortunately, it can have unintended consequences…

The End

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The Doctor likes horses, they have a lot of common sense; he knows because he speaks horse. It’s a useful skill. He can ride too, which is fortunate, because out West, if you need to get somewhere quickly, horseback is the only way to travel.

Needing to track the gunslinger, he borrows a horse and rides out of town. Susan, as the horse prefers to be called, is an excellent mount, fast and sure-footed, intelligent, and has quite a mouth on him. The Doctor laughs to himself. The preacher would blush scarlet if he knew what his horse was saying.

The End

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Living snow; even for the Doctor, that’s a bit of a surprise. It talks too; talking snow is even better. The Doctor loves encountering new things. He’s seen so much in the past nine hundred plus years, it’s good to know he hasn’t yet seen everything there is to see.

Not good snow though. That’s a pity. Why does everything new turn out to be an evil intelligence intent on invading the planet and conquering its inhabitants? There must be something in the water.

And of course there is: a tragically frozen governess. Damn it! Now he’ll have to investigate.

The End

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In the Doctor’s vast experience, urban legends usually contain at least a grain of truth. Something nasty lurking in the sewers? Could be an alligator, or a mutant turtle, or maybe just an alien stranded far from home and making the best of a bad situation.

Then there’s the figure in the mirror, the one you catch a glimpse of and think someone’s standing behind you. They’re not.

The Doctor avoids mirrors now, except for once a year. He’s not without compassion; perhaps someday he’ll forgive her. She’s only a child.

Or perhaps she’ll remain where he trapped her. Forever.

The End

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Rose shudders. The metal men are just like the Borg in all those Star Trek episodes. Resistance is futile. These don’t say the same thing, but the meaning of their words is just as clear.

“You will be upgraded!”

She doesn’t want to become like them, devoid of humanity, a brain stripped of all feelings and emotions, trapped inside a metal body, with only one purpose; to make more just like it.

“You will be deleted!”

That’s even worse. Deleted, erased, scrubbed out of existence. Dead.

The Doctor better have a really good plan to get them out of this.

The End

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The Man of Steel, Faster than a Speeding Bullet, X-Ray vision, super strength, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. Is it a bird? Is it a plane?

He’s every superhero from every comic book he’s ever read, all because of the crystal the Doctor gave him to hold, which he mistook for medicine and swallowed.

It wasn’t supposed to last; the Doctor said it would wear off once the crystal… passed through. Only it didn’t, he grew up, and the Ghost was born.

Helping people is great, really it is, but x-ray vision? It’s a mixed blessing.

The End

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It should come as no surprise to anyone that the universe is dirty. No matter where you go, in space or in time, you can be guaranteed to encounter a certain amount of muck and filth; it’s something that can quite accurately be termed a universal truth, and yet humans always seem disappointed by it.

The Doctor’s current companion looked at their surroundings with a distasteful frown. “Somehow I always thought the future would be cleaner.”

“Dirt breeds,” the Doctor explained. “Wherever there are living organisms, there is bound to be dirt, because without dirt, there can be no life.”

The End

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What makes something a monster? The way it behaves? Certainly anything that kills for no reason other than to snatch life from another living being can be described as monstrous.

Its physical appearance, perhaps? A creature that’s hideous to someone of a different species might be considered the height of perfection to others of its kind. Beauty, as humans say, is in the eye of the beholder.

Then again, something that looks beautiful can be malevolent, even deadly. Appearances are deceptive; you can’t always tell just by looking.

The Doctor sees a monster every time he looks at his reflection.

The End

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It’s always amused the Doctor that humans are so obsessed with pets; most families seem to have at least one, usually a dog or a cat. Dogs are pack animals, happy to follow whoever they consider to be their pack leader, and loyal to a fault. Cats, on the other hand, are independent creatures, often loners, and they do what they want to do, not what somebody else tells them they should.

Perhaps that goes some way to explaining why, in the future, dogs have remained unchanged while cats have evolved into an intelligent, sentient race in their own right.

The End

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Being married to the Doctor is a bit… haphazard. River seldom knows where, or even when, her husband is, and their timelines are completely out of synchronisation, which means she has to keep a very careful record of every time they meet in order to avoid spoilers. It wouldn’t do for him to know what’s going to happen to either of them in the future; it might change something, and paradoxes can be tricky.

She also has to avoid versions of the Doctor who existed before their first meeting.

On the plus side, nobody can say their marriage is boring!

The End

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What a time to break down! The TARDIS is old, was an obsolete model when he stole her, but the Doctor’s never coveted the newer models. She’s his friend, his travelling companion, and his home, but like anything with mechanical components, a certain amount of wear and tear is inevitable.

It’s fortunate there was a nearby planet he could set down on, but bad luck that this world is ninety percent oceans and they missed the nearest landmass. Now they’re all at sea. Literally.

Perhaps if he sends out a distress call someone will come and tow them to shore.

The End

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The werewolf claims it wants to infect Queen Victoria, and through her gain control of Britain and the Empire she commands.

That’s not entirely true. It’s what the people controlling it want, but in truth, the werewolf is as trapped on earth, where it doesn’t belong, as the Queen is trapped within Torchwood House. All it really wants is to be freed so it can return home.

The Doctor has the means to make that happen, he just needs to refract the moon’s rays at exactly the right strength and frequency, bathing the werewolf in its light, and…

It’s gone.

The End

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The Master always schemes on a grand scale. Let little people satisfy themselves with petty theft and murder; he’s more ambitious, and his intellect so eclipses that of lesser beings that they’re not worthy to grovel at his feet.

No, stealing pretty treasures is nothing when you can take whole worlds, and killing a few people pales beside committing genocide. Most people simply lack the imagination and daring it takes to plan such crimes.

Naturally the Doctor always comes along and spoils his plans, so his crimes never pay, but there’s always next time, and anyway, it’s so much fun!

The End

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“Are you drunk?” Donna asked the Doctor, hands on hips and a stern expression on her face.

“I do believe I am!” He grinned back at her, that slightly manic grin she was already so used to. “Rather fun, isn’t it?”

“You won’t be sayin’ that in the morning, Sunshine!” she assured him, steering him in the direction of the TARDIS. “I should confiscate your keys, You’re in no condition to drive; we’d be goin’ around in circles.”

Although he could’ve shrugged off the effects any time he wanted, the Doctor decided he’d stay drunk just a little while longer.

The End

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Owning a TARDIS is brilliant! With it, the Doctor can travel to any place, or any time, he chooses. The possibilities are endless!

Except, that’s not entirely true. There are some places he’s been before he can never return to, for fear that his very presence might create a paradox that could tear the universe, or even just one small corner of it, apart.

What use is a time machine you can’t use to save the people you care about the most?

None whatsoever.

Amy and Rory must live out their lives in the past. He’ll never see them again.

The End

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She’s a slip of a girl, hardly more than a child, and she’s human, which makes things even worse. Humans have such short lives compared to Time Lords. The Doctor knows it’s foolish, but Rose is so alive, so vibrant, full of curiosity, courage, and wonder, that despite his better judgement, he’s smitten.

It can never work between them; a time will come when he’ll have to leave her behind, just like everyone else he’s travelled with, but not just yet, and hopefully not for years.

For now, what does it hurt to let a little romance into his hearts?

The End

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Despite dabbing a bit in odd moments, the Doctor isn’t much of a poet himself, but he’s met a fair number of them. One of the best things about time travel is being able to hop into the past and witness people of rare talent creating their masterpieces. Byron, Shelley, Keats, Wordsworth and his Daffodils… Oh, those were a lovely sight!

Shakespeare of course, poet as well as playwright, and a legend throughout the universe.

Many worlds have poetry, but earth’s poets are among the finest. The Doctor feels privileged to have met them. Maybe he’ll chat with Poe next…

The End

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Hats are cool; there are so many kinds!

The Doctor has had quite a few over his lifetime; there were those felt fedoras his fourth regeneration was so fond of, the Panama hat his fifth regeneration wore, and he seems to recall at least one trilby… Sometimes it gets hard to remember details after so long.

He’s fairly sure he’s never had a fez before though. Fezzes are definitely cool! It’s just a shame nobody else seems to think so. There’s no accounting for tastes.

Ah well, surely nobody can object to a Stetson. This is the Wild West. Right?

The End

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The mud was thick and glutinous, sucking at their feet as they walked. Donna was far from impressed.

“A pleasant stroll, that’s what you told me, Spaceman! A chance to stretch our legs and breathe fresh air!” She sniffed cautiously. “There’s nothing fresh about this air; smells like something died! As for that whole pleasant stroll, feels like I’m wadin’ through treacle. You got any idea what this is doing to my boots?”

“Bit of mud never hurt anyone, Donna! Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Moments later, the Doctor changed his tune.

“Rotten mud! It’s eaten one of my sneakers!”

The End

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Donna doesn’t know what happened to her, there seem to be gaps in her memory, quite large ones in places, like there are things she should remember, important things, but they’re out of reach. So she tells herself it’s her imagination, and she becomes an expert at confabulation when she’s talking to her friends, because she doesn’t want anyone else to know.

She’s always had a good memory, that’s one of the reasons she’s such a great temp. Explain something to her once and she remembers. So why is her memory failing her now?

Maybe she’s better off not knowing.

The End

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Ever since childhood, the Doctor has had a yen to travel, to see things others of his race never have and never will.

Most Gallifreyans, even most Time Lords, are happy to remain on their own world, but not him. He’s never been satisfied with such a limited existence, not when there’s a whole universe and all of time waiting to be explored.

It’s like an itch, always there, urging him on over the next hill, or to the next world. Then when he’s seen what there is to see, he’s ready to move on again.

He’ll never settle down.

The End

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Earth’s military, especially the officers, must be trained in the art of bluster. Even UNIT isn’t immune. If invading aliens could be defeated merely by talking at them, the Doctor thinks, earth would never need his help. They’d be more than able to cope.

Sadly, the universe doesn’t work that way. Despite all the hot air the military and politicians are producing, indignantly asserting their sovereignty over their planet, words can’t sway Cybermen, or Daleks, or even Sycorax. It’s a good thing the people of earth have a little outside help in such situations. Someone needs to keep them alive.

The End

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Sunday football game, pub league, and Craig’s team is short a player, so as his new flat mate, it seems only right that the Doctor should step in.

Amy approves, she says football’s good; it’s normal. Normal is the key, normal is what will help him blend in and avoid suspicion while he figures out what’s going on upstairs, so off he goes to play football. He has no idea what he’s doing.

Still, running down the pitch, dodging other players while dribbling the ball, is great fun, and when he scores there’s cheering! Oh yes, he loves this game!

The End

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Earth is out of bounds, according to the Shadow Proclamation so the intergalactic mail service probably wouldn’t stop there even if it existed. Which it might, for all Donna knows; she’s never got around to asking the Doctor, there are always too many other questions to ask and no time to ask them. It’s hard to say much of anything while running.

There are postcards though, sort of, so she gets what she can when circumstances allow; pictures of the places she’s been. If she can’t mail them, she’ll take them home to Granddad herself. She knows he’ll love them.

The End

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Martha isn’t quite sure what’s got into her. She’s always been the sensible one in her family, the oldest daughter, the one who sets a good example. Her mum told her when she was just a kid that she should never go off with strangers, especially strange men, but…

Here she is with the strangest man she’s ever met. Technically not a man, he’s an alien from another planet, but he’s most definitely male, not to mention hot, and he’s offering to take her with him on a trip through time and space.

She’d be a fool to say no.

The End

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“Wakey wakey, rise and shine!”

Clara groaned and rolled over in bed, glaring blearily at the Doctor. “You’re in my bedroom! Do you even know what privacy means?”

The Doctor ignored the question. “Ah, that’s better. Good morning!”

Picking up her alarm clock, Clara checked the time; it was three-thirty.

“It’s the middle of the night!”

“Earth revolves, most planets do, so it’s morning somewhere. Bound to be!”

“But not here and not now! Unless the world’s about to end, I’m going back to sleep.” She rolled onto her other side.

The Doctor stared in astonishment. He’d never understand humans!

The End

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He looked completely different from the last time Sarah Jane had seen him; different face, different hair, different voice, and yet she felt as though she would have known him anywhere.

Stick her in a roomful of strangers and she was certain she’d be able to tell which one was the Doctor within a few minutes, because despite the changes in appearance and mannerisms, there was still something indefinably familiar about him, like he radiated an aura of some kind.

Working with him was familiar too. Just for a little while, Sarah Jane could almost believe she was young again.

The End

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They’re all seeking the end of their long journey, the motorway’s exit, always believing others must have reached the terminus. The dream keeps them going, year after year; the hope of reaching their destination, of getting out into fresh air, where there are jobs to be had and a life to live.

In truth they’ll just go around and around, because the journey is all that’s keeping them alive. Everyone on the surface is long gone; the travellers in the under-city are the only survivors, and Boe will keep them down there, protected, until the Doctor comes to save them.

The End

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The escape pod’s been jettisoned, with Martha inside; that’s the worst thing that could’ve happened, because it’s being pulled towards the sun. The heat shields won’t last much longer; she and Riley won’t live long enough to be burned alive, which Martha supposes is some small consolation.

She’s not giving up hope though, not yet. The Doctor will save them, she has to believe that; if there’s any possible way, he’ll find it because he’s brilliant.

But just in case, she’ll phone her mum. If she doesn’t make it, nobody will ever know, but at least she’ll have said goodbye.

The End

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There were times the Doctor despaired. Humanity had potential, but they were so scared of everything, including each other, that they armed themselves to the teeth and did battle with anyone they didn’t understand. If they couldn’t even get along with their own species, what chance did people from other worlds have?

Admittedly, many of the otherworldly visitors who came to earth did so to destroy, invade, or enslave the planet, but did that give UNIT the right to greet every alien species with an array of military ordnance and a show of deadly force?

The Doctor didn’t think so.

The End

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People were already calling it the Battle of Canary Wharf, the deluded fools, but Jack knew better; the word ‘battle’ implied that either side could’ve won, but that hadn’t been the case. No, there was no battle here. It had been nothing less than a massacre.

The humans, outnumbered, outgunned, and without a hope in hell of defending themselves, were mown down by Daleks and torn apart by Cybermen, converted wholesale and then used as little more than cannon fodder.

All because Yvonne Hartman wanted more power for the Empire.

Jack had no pity for her; she deserved her fate

The End

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“They’re a little shy,” the Doctor explained, as he attempted to coax a small, fluffy stowaway out of the hidey-hole it had found under the console. He wasn’t having much luck. No matter how much he chirped at it, and assured it they were friendly, the little creature seemed determined to stay right where it was.

The Doctor sat back on his heels, frowning. “It can’t stay there, it could short-circuit essential systems. Right, the time for coaxing is over.” He reached in and grabbed for the fluffball.

Needle-sharp teeth sank into his hand.

“OW!”

Amy laughed. “Serves you right!”

The End

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There was a bond between them that nothing would ever break, not being kidnapped, nor being separated for centuries, and not even getting zapped back into the past. Amy and Rory belonged together; wherever her husband was, that was where Amy needed to be. How could the Doctor not understand that?

Rory would live to the grand old age of eighty-two, it said so right there on his gravestone, but he wouldn’t live that life on his own. If the Doctor wouldn’t help her get her husband back, well then, she’d just go and join him.

Nothing could be simpler.

The End

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It’s surreal. Rose just watched her planet die, far in the future; now here she is, standing on a very much living earth, in the middle of London, among people just going about their daily lives. They have no idea.

They don’t know that aliens exist, that there are thousands of worlds out there, inhabited by people so strange even Rose finds it hard to believe, and she’s seen some of them.

The man standing beside her is an alien too, although he doesn’t look it. And apparently aliens like chips just much as any human. Who’d have thought it?

The End

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Tradition is a strange animal; where does it begin? Often from fear or necessity, rituals devised for protection or to give the illusion of safety. Something done or said by chance protects the fearful, so they decide that’s the key to their safety.

Every culture in the universe has its own traditions. Earth has Morris Dancers, shaking hands, and saying ‘Bless you’ when someone sneezes. The Qualf shut their eyes and turn in a circle when the sun goes down, to ensure it will rise again in the morning. It always works.

The Doctor traditionally has companions. That works too.

The End

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Without ever wanting it, the Doctor has become an icon; there are even statues of him on various planets, where he’s lauded as their saviour, all because he leant a hand at a tricky moment in their history. It’s one of the downsides of being a compulsive busybody, so it’s fortunate that his face changes periodically. It keeps him from being recognised too often.

His name is widely known though, and not everyone is a fan. There are whole worlds where his presence is less than welcome.

He never planned on becoming famous; he just has to live with it.

The End

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One thing about the man who calls himself the Doctor; he makes an immediate and memorable impression, even if that that impression is often more along the lines of ‘Who is this madman?’

Ask any of his companions and they’ll tell you, because each and every one of them has been irresistibly drawn to him in one way or the other, and none of those still living will ever forget him. They wouldn’t want to even if they could.

He sweeps into their lives out of nowhere, shows them everything they’ve been missing, then leaves.

They’re never the same again.

The End

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The whole planet feels heavy with portents, dragging on him, weighing him down. This moment has been a long time coming, but he can’t escape his destiny. He’s an old man and he’s dying; it remains to be seen whether his final regeneration will wither away before the Daleks get up the nerve to take what’s left of his life.

Thirteen regenerations is the rule, and this body he’s wearing now is his thirteenth, technically speaking.

But rules are made to be broken, and the Time Lords have always done as they pleased.

He’s not finished yet. Far from it.

The End

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Thanks to her mother always putting her down, Donna had grown up doubting herself, always thinking she wasn’t good enough. Her grandfather had done everything he could to bolster her confidence, and she loved him for that, among other things, but her mother’s criticisms never let up.

Marrying Lance had seemed like a triumph, until she’d learned the truth; he’d never loved her, and her self-confidence had suffered another body blow.

This was her acid test, here in Pompeii on Volcano Day. She had to stand up to the Doctor, make him listen to her.

“You can’t just leave them!”

The End

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Rose told the Doctor she just wanted to see her father, talk to him, know what he was like, because all she knew was what her mother had told her, which hadn’t exactly been complimentary.

But talking to him, she’d realised she would give anything to change the past and grow up having her dad in her life.

Risking herself to save him had been a no-brainer, but now, trapped in a church while hideous Reapers tore the world apart, she finally understood; one life for the lives of thousands wasn’t a fair trade.

She had to let him go.

The End

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Jack steeled himself as the Dalek approached. This was it, the end for him, no way out, and… he was surprisingly content with that. It was a better ending than he could previously have hoped for.

He didn’t want to die, he was young, with everything ahead of him, there was so much he hadn’t had the chance to do, but the same could be said of his fellow defenders, and why should their lives be less important than his own?

If his death bought the Doctor time, then it was worth it. He was helping to save the universe.

The End

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There’s a knack to flying the TARDIS, and the Doctor is an old hand at it; he’s been doing it for hundreds of years, after all. Yes, it involves a lot of mad running around the central console, pushing this button, pulling that lever, pumping, cranking, twisting dials, but after so long it’s second nature; he barely even notices the effort he has to expend any more.

There’s no denying this is so much easier though, standing back and simply instructing the others on what to do. TARDISes are designed to be operated by six people, not one single pilot.

The End

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Ennui is a sickness, and the Doctor has a bad case of it. For very nearly a thousand years he’s been running around doing everything he can to save the universe from itself only to finally come to the inescapable conclusion that the universe simply doesn’t care. If that’s the case, then why should he?

Well, he shouldn’t, and doesn’t; he’s well out of the Saving the Universe business. Why can’t everyone go away and let him mope in peace? He’s had enough, and if people want to accuse him of apathy, so be it.

It’s all the same anyway.

The End

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Madame Vastra is London’s greatest detective; her exploits are legendary thanks to the writings of Doyle, although of course Doyle writes his detective as a man. Equality between men and women is a long way off, but Vastra believes it will eventually become a reality.

Meanwhile, she hides her face behind a heavy veil when she leaves her home to go about her business; if people would be disturbed about a woman carrying out investigations into crimes, how much more dismayed would they be to know she is of a different species entirely?

Under the circumstances, her disguise seems prudent.

The End

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Where the Doctor leads, others follow, usually humans. They can’t help themselves, because the Doctor isn’t like anyone they’ve ever met. He’s mysterious, and exciting, and probably dangerous, but he offers them an escape from their humdrum lives, a chance to see things very few people ever have. Who wouldn’t want that?

Some opportunities come along only once in a lifetime, if that, and saying no would lead to endless regrets and thoughts of what might have been. So when he asks, “Come with me?” what can they do but let him lead them into a universe of unimaginable adventure?

The End

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“This was a beautiful world once, aeons ago, until war, pollution, and sheer carelessness made it all but uninhabitable,” the Doctor said quietly as he and Amy wandered through crumbling corridors, their footsteps muffled by centuries’ worth of accumulated dust.

“What happened to the people?” Amy asked. “Did they leave?” The place felt eerie in its almost complete silence, devoid of any kind of life other than themselves.

The Doctor shook his head. “They’re still here, waiting patiently. They built themselves cryo-sleep chambers deep underground, and there they’ll stay, asleep and dreaming, until their planet can once again support life.”

The End

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In Rose’s opinion, the Doctor needed to brush up on his earth slang. When she’d said she’d like to go someplace really cool, this wasn’t what she’d meant; even dressed in thick furs she felt chilly.

On the other hand, this was amazing, a world where even the seas were ice, waves towering above them, frozen solid before they could crash against the shore. It was like the universe’s biggest ice-sculpture, its scale so immense she simply couldn’t grasp its enormity. Never had Rose felt so tiny.

It might not have been what she’d expected, but it was definitely cool.

The End

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Why did it always come to this? Donna thought. It didn’t matter where they went, or why; sooner or later, spaceboy would grab her and yell, “Run!”

Everything chased them; humans, aliens, robots, animals of all shapes and sizes, and on one occasion, what looked like a herd of flying jellyfish. Then there were avalanches, dust storms, collapsing buildings, tidal waves, falling trees, and corrosive gunge. She’d lost a really nice pair of shoes thanks to that last one.

Stumbling into the TARDIS and slamming the door behind them, Donna leant against it, laughing breathlessly. It was so much fun!

The End

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They’re like shadows, startling, even frightening when caught sight of unexpectedly, and they’re always unexpected, yet ignored and forgotten about most of the time.

Like shadows, they’re always present too, although never mentioned, because no one who sees them ever remembers them once they look away, even for the smallest instant.

Where they’ve come from, these tall, cadaverous figures in black suits, not even the Doctor knows, but any being so intent on hiding its presence can’t be up to anything good; the Silence are no exception.

But how do you investigate something you forget whenever they’re out of sight?

The End

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Rose isn’t quite sure exactly when it was that she fell head over heels in love with the Doctor. She thinks it was most likely after his regeneration, because although she’d loved that brusque, big-eared man in the leather jacket, something about him had held her back. Perhaps because he looked around her mother’s age, whereas he seemed closer to her own age after he changed.

Maybe the when doesn’t really matter, because it happened, and now she can’t imagine not having him in her life. She doesn’t care that he’s not human; he’s still the only man for her.

The End

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After turning down the Doctor’s offer to travel with him after her disastrous non-wedding, Donna had doubted she’d ever see him again. Maybe she’d blown her one chance of seeing what was out there in space, beyond the world she knew.

Still, just meeting him had opened her eyes to the fact that there was so much more to life than soaps and reality TV.

So here she is, sneakily investigating the new miracle weight loss drug. It seems too good to be true; there’s something fishy going on. And look who’s here, doing exactly the same thing!

Hello, Spaceboy!

The End

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Cat people! People who are cats, dressed like nuns! Rose would’ve never believed it if she hadn’t seen them with her own eyes. The Doctor tells her not to stare, but she can’t help it, they’re so incredibly brilliant!

They’re also up to something they shouldn’t be.

They mean well, they’re dedicated healers, doing everything they can to help their patients, but to do so, they’re using people, grown as lab rats to provide cures for those under the Sisterhood’s care.

It’s still wrong, so the Doctor frees and cures them. Now there’s a new human race, grown by cats.

The End

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“How about that then?” The Doctor throws open the TARDIS doors and steps aside, so Martha can get an uninterrupted view.

“Oh my God!” Martha takes a step back, suddenly nervous, both hands rising to her mouth.

“It’s alright, come closer, you won’t fall out.”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“I promise; it’s perfectly safe.”

Martha cautiously steps forward again, into the open doorway, and stares out at the nebula before them in space, a hazy, glowing cloud of gas and dust, seeming to glow from within.

“It’s incredible!” She doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything so amazing in her life.

The End

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They’re hazy, nebulous, but vaguely people-shaped; that’s why everyone believes them to be ghosts, the spirits of loved ones who have passed away, returning for brief periods to watch over those they left behind.

It’s a belief that Torchwood fosters and encourages; better that than worldwide panic during the Ghost Shifts. Still, Yvonne Hartman and the team she has experimenting with the artefact have no better idea of what the indistinct forms might be than anyone else, so ghosts it is, unless and until they learn otherwise.

By the time they discover their true nature, it’s already far too late.

The End

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The people of earth are caught in the middle of a battle they can’t win, and can’t even hope to survive. While the Cybermen convert every suitable human into another emotionless metal soldier for their ranks, the Daleks slaughter vast swathes of humanity in an effort to prevent their enemies from creating reinforcements.

Every person on the planet is doomed, through the hubris of Director Hartman and her people; their only hope for survival is Torchwood’s Public Enemy Number One, the Doctor.

Yvonne would be horrified if she knew, but it hardly matters; she’s among the first to be converted.

The End

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The Doctor’s past is filled with so much pain and heartbreak, more perhaps than any other living being has ever known. Countless friends and loved ones have passed beyond the veil over the centuries, leaving him to carry on alone. Companions have come along to brighten his existence for a brief period of time, but they can never stay for long. They age too quickly, and he has to let them go before his way of life can end theirs.

The last of his race, he feels compelled to keep moving forward, because looking back will only break his hearts.

The End

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“You know,” said Clara, “referring to humans as primitive apes is more than a little insulting.”

“Is it? Why?”

Clara frowned. For a supposedly superior being, the Doctor could be monumentally dense. “Because we’re a long way up the evolutionary tree from being apes. We’re an intelligent, civilised, advanced technological society…”

The Doctor cut her off. “You use your technology to find new and more effective ways of making war on your own kind. You’re nowhere near as advanced or intelligent as you think you are.”

“Then why d’you bother with us?”

“Because, my dear Clara, humanity has incredible potential.”

The End

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The Doctor and the Master, coeval, contemporaries, growing up at the same time on Gallifrey centuries ago. There’d been other children, but they had been especially close.

It had been a relief when they’d both been accepted into the Time Lord Academy. The elation of both being chosen had made them giddy. They’d had such plans; they knew they’d always be friends.

But then had come the Untempered Schism, and while the one who would become the Doctor had been filled with wonder, the other had been driven insane.

Now friends had become enemies, still close, but forever in opposition.

The End

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The TARDIS is shrinking, which is more than a little unexpected. Already it’s like a half-scale model of itself, and getting smaller all the time. At first, getting in and out can just about be accomplished, although it’s a bit of a squeeze fitting through the door, but that stage doesn’t last long. The shrinking isn’t stopping. To Clara, it’s looks adorable, but to the Doctor it’s a serious problem that needs fixing as soon as possible.

With the Doctor inside and Clara outside, somehow they’ll have to work together to solve the mystery and restore the TARDIS to normal.

The End

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Kathy Nightingale was lost long before the angels took her sixty years into the past and left her there. She hadn’t been unhappy as such, it was just that her life had been going nowhere and she’d known it. She’d wanted a fresh start, a new life, but with no way to achieve that she’d just kept plodding along in the same old familiar rut.

Then one day she’d blinked and when she’d opened her eyes, instead of London in 2007, she’d been outside Hull in December of 1920. A new life had found her when she’d least expected it.

The End

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They’re all gone. Rose, Jack, Martha, the incomparable Donna Noble… Each and every one of them left behind. Lady Christina would have gone with him willingly. They could have been great together, he could have shown her so much, the whole universe and all of time, but how could he do that to someone else?

He broke them all eventually. They joined him full of life and eager for adventure, but in the end, for one reason or another, he lost them all. He couldn’t bear losing another one. It would be better for everyone if he travelled by himself.

The End

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He gets a message on the psychic paper, no idea who from. It just reads ‘The library, come as soon as you can.’ There’s a kiss at the end. It’s a mystery, and the Doctor never could resist one of those, so instead of the promised beach, he drags Donna to the biggest library the universe has ever known. It takes up the whole planet.

The place appears deserted, and yet a scan reveals millions upon millions of life forms.

That’s not good.

They came here because of a message, but what’s in the shadows might cost them their lives.

The End

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The Doctor supposes it’s time he came clean about why he left Jack behind. He should explain, but he keeps putting it off. “I was busy.” It’s really no answer at all, and certainly not what Jack wants to hear, but he won’t like the truth any better.

Why would he? Although, he takes it better than the Doctor would have expected. “I left you behind on the game station deliberately. You’re wrong,” he tells his former companion. “You’re a fixed point. You shouldn’t exist. It’s not easy even looking at you.”

“So you’re saying you’re prejudiced?”

Maybe he is.

The End

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They’re on the beach of Bad Wolf Bay, and this can’t be happening; not again, not after all she went through to get back to her own universe, to return to her Doctor’s side!

Rose wants to tell the Doctor ‘No’, that she won’t go back to the alternate universe, that she belongs with him, in the TARDIS, travelling through space and time forever. She wants to beg him, ‘Don’t leave me!’ Did he ever truly care about her the way she does about him? If he loves her how can he reject her like this?

It hurts so much.

The End

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She’s extraordinary, this Martha Jones; Tom Milligan can’t help but be impressed. Look at her; she’s just a slip of a girl, probably not much more than twenty years old, if that. Slim and pretty despite the hardships she’s been facing over the past months, she carries herself with grace and confidence.

It takes guts to do what she’s doing. He doesn’t think he could do it, travelling the world, mostly on foot and alone, spreading her story. She’s already a legend and he’s honoured to help her, however he can.

He wishes they could have met under different circumstances.

The End

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He’s not her Doctor anymore; the gangly, energetic, tousle-haired man in the tweed jacket and bowtie is gone. He’s still tall, but older, grey haired, craggy-featured, with eyebrows that seem to have a personality all their own, and piercing eyes that could surely cut through solid steel.

It’s not just his looks that have changed, though that’s jarring enough. His cheery, cheeky old personality is gone, replaced by… a grouch.

Clara doesn’t think she likes this new Scottish-accented version of her old friend. He’s impatient, tactless, and definitely not a hugger.

But he needs her.

Maybe he’ll grow on her.

The End

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It’s crazy! There’s this Professor, and he’s got a blue police box in the corner of his office that turns out to be a time and space machine! What’s with that?

So here she is, out in space, or time, or possibly both. Probably both. All because he noticed her attending his lectures despite not technically being a student.

And you know what else? She’s having a blast! It’s scary, insane, there’s running, and life-or-death situations, and she’s seeing things she’d have never believed if she’d not seen them herself.

Bill Potts, Time Traveller. Has a nice ring to it.

The End

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Donna’s never really been anywhere in her life. She doesn’t count the trips to Marbella and Magaluf with the girls from work for a bit of fun in the sun. Everybody does that.

She’s always wanted to travel, see things nobody else has, make something of herself, but working in a temp agency… What are the chances?

Then she meets him, the Doctor, and he turns her whole life upside down, and… It’s brilliant! Visiting the Ood planet is a lot to get her head around.

‘An actual alien planet! And I was there!’

She’ll never forget any of this!

The End

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He looks like anyone else really, just another ordinary guy, albeit with wild hair and a manic grin. When he accosts her on the street and takes his tie off, Martha thinks he’s a bit weird, but then, so are a lot of people.

He’s not what he looks like though, because he has two heartbeats. Turns out he’s an alien from another planet, and over nine hundred years old. No way anyone would believe that just looking at him.

He’s a walking, talking, living, breathing contradiction, and Martha’s sure she’s barely scratched the surface. She’s desperate to know more.

The End

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Mickey had never thought of himself as the jealous type, not until he’d come along. The Doctor. All he’d needed to do was grin that cheesy grin and Rose had gone with him, not so much as a kiss goodbye for her boyfriend. Because Mickey was that, wasn’t he? He’d thought so, but now he had his doubts.

He wanted to ask Rose, ‘Why do you want him and not me? What does he have that I don’t?’ but he already knew the answer. The Doctor was Rose’s way out of her dead-end life. Mickey could never give her that.

The End

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“What’re you lying around for? Don’t you want to see the sights?”

“Too hot!” Rose sighed, fanning herself.

“Hot? This is nothing.” The Doctor was still wearing his suit and long coat while Rose had opted for shorts and halter-top, sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat completing the outfit. “It’s not bothering anyone else.”

Rose peered over the tops of her sunglasses. Here they were on Barcelona, the planet of the noseless dogs, and said dogs were sprawled limply in the shade everywhere she looked. “Really? What about the hot dogs?”

Moments like this reminded her how alien the Doctor was.

The End

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“You did wilfully aid the guilty to escape; by our laws, that is a serious crime. What have you to say in your defence?”

As denunciations went, the Doctor considered this one rather tame.

“Guilty? It was a goat!”

“It committed a theft. It broke into Goodman Durren’s orchard and ate the fallen apples that were to be made into cider.”

“Then Goodman Durren should build a better fence. That one wouldn’t keep anything out.”

“Nevertheless, a crime was committed.”

“It was a GOAT! You people have way too much time on your hands if you go around prosecuting livestock.”

The End

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“Just do whatever they do,” the Doctor advised when the aliens approached, sniffing curiously at them. “Give them a good sniff, it would be appallingly rude not to; it’s how they say hello.”

“So sniff when you’re sniffed at. Got it,” Amy said.

“When in Rome…” Rory added, leaning in to sniff at the alien who’d just sniffed him. It smelled quite pleasant, vanilla with a hint of lavender.

The Doctor paused his sniffing to frown at Rory. “We’re not in Rome, this is Verdinuncx.”

“It’s just a saying, Doctor. Means we should follow the natives’ example.”

“I knew that.”

The End

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“Here we are!” The Doctor threw open the door of the TARDIS and stepped out, throwing his arms into the air like he’d just conjured the planet out of thin air.

“Where’s here?” asked Amy, following him and gazing out across a vast expanse of something that looked vaguely grass-like, but came in every shade of pink imaginable.

“Amaparagorafimblesnooth!” the Doctor beamed back at her.

“Sometimes I think you just make these crazy names up at random. So, we’re here. Now what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Roam around a bit, see what’s happening, maybe meet the natives?”

“Works for me!”

The End

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Clara’s seen amazing things travelling with the Doctor; some beautiful, some terrible, some mind-boggling, but this is something else entirely. She’s far into the future, yet feels like she’s stepped back in time to a more glamorous age.

Train travel certainly isn’t like this in her time; it’s all extortionate fares, endless delays, and crowded carriages, but this is sheer class. Spacious, elegant, luxurious… It could almost be earth in the twenties; only the view through the windows shatters the illusion.

The blackness of space lies beyond the glass, the Orient Express thundering through it without needing rails. It’s incredible!

The End

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The Doctor’s been called many things by many people during his centuries of travel. Some have been flattering, others, like the Oncoming Storm, have passed into legend, but most have been somewhat insulting. ‘Miscreant’ is one of the milder ones.

He doesn’t set out to break laws or get into trouble; he simply can’t resist meddling. If something’s unjust, he has to set it right, and if there’s a mystery to unravel, he has to be first to unravel it. Why shouldn’t he? He’s brilliant!

Sadly, the locals don’t always see things his way, so now he’s in jail.

Again.

The End

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Rose was completely enchanted by the natives of this planet. The squat, pastel coloured creatures were barely waist-high to her, densely furred ovals perched precariously on a pair of short, stumpy legs. Because of their oversized, flat feet they didn’t walk so much as waddle.

They swarmed around her, peering up at her from round, black eyes on retractable stalks, whistling to each other in their native language, and patting her with broad, fuzzy flippers, like the wings of penguins.

“Aren’t you adorable!” she exclaimed, reaching to stroke one.

“Careful!” the Doctor warned, a little too late.

“OW!”

“They bite.”

The End

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Having the Doctor staying with them is… well, it’s not that Amy and Rory don’t want him there, he’s their friend, it’s just that he can’t sit still for five minutes, always has to keep busy. Everyone else has to be patient, waiting for the mysterious cubes to do something, anything, but the Doctor doesn’t do patience.

It’s maddening, but even Rory can’t deny the Doctor’s trying to be useful, some of the time anyway. He creosotes the fence, mows the lawn, does the vacuuming… He’s both the best and the worst houseguest ever.

But he does make excellent waffles.

The End

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Not wanting to appear rude, Rose hid her grin behind her hand. How was she supposed to remain straight-faced when confronted by aliens who resembled humanoid turkeys?

They didn’t have feathers; in fact their heads were completely bald, aside from a bony blue crest, longer and darker on the males than on the females. They also had short, stubby noses rather than beaks. But from their jaws and throats dangled long, fleshy wattles, blue like their crests, which flapped and wobbled hypnotically as they talked.

If she didn’t get out of here soon she was going to burst out laughing!

The End

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The Doctor dug in one of his capacious coat pockets, finally pulling out a crumpled paper bag and starting to open it. “Would you care for a jelly… oh.” He turned the bag upside down and shook it. Nothing. It was empty.

Screwing the bag up again, he shoved it back in his pocket and rummaged around in the other one, his arm disappearing to the elbow, then tried the first pocket again.

“I could have sworn I had some more. Oh well.” He pulled out a small, square packet and tore it open. “Would you care for some nuts?”

The End

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The Doctor has already been through quite a few regenerations, each new body requiring a change in style. The velvet and lace his third body had favoured would have been completely out of place on his ninth. His eighth might have been able to carry off such a flouncy style, he had the hair for it, but the cricket whites of his fifth regeneration would have looked silly on him.

It’s the same with footwear; different feet need different shoes, preferably something he can run in.

The Doctor waggles his new toes. His tenth pair of feet are definitely sneaker-wearers.

The End

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The first time Rose visited Scotland with the Doctor was a lot more pleasant in most respects than the second time. No werewolf for starters. The Doctor had wanted to show her how beautiful the little island she lived on was, so he’d taken her on a whirlwind tour of Britain, finishing up in the Scottish highlands, where he took her to a Cèilidh.

The moment they stepped into the venue, Rose winced.

“What is that noise? It sounds like someone’s strangling a bagful of cats!”

The Doctor glared at her. “You, Rose Tyler, have no appreciation for traditional music!”

The End

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Over the centuries, the Doctor had grown accustomed to the astonished reactions of the people he invited into his TARDIS. Mostly, they expressed amazed disbelief that anything could be bigger on the inside than it was on the outside, but there were occasional exceptions to that rule, such as Team Torchwood.

Gwen went the ‘bigger on the inside’ route, Tosh exclaimed excitedly over the technology, Ianto asked where the cleaning supplies were kept, and Owen…

“Blimey, you’ve got everything but the kitchen sink in ‘ere!”

“Oh, I’ve got one of those too,” the Doctor assured him. “It’s in the kitchen.”

The End

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Regenerating into a new body was always something of a lottery; each body was different, and came with its own unique set of physicals skills. For instance, his second body could play the recorder, his third knew martial arts, his fifth was good at cricket, and his Eleventh excelled at football. It was always fun discovering previously unknown talents.

The problem came not from discovering the new skills he’d gained, but finding out at the worst possible moment which ones he’d somehow lost along the way.

“Clara! Help!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think this body knows how to swim yet!”

The End

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Donna loved travelling with the Doctor; it was brilliant, seeing the universe, visiting the past and the future, hobnobbing with aliens and historical figures alike. She honestly couldn’t imagine a better life than the one she was living; she never wanted it to end, and yet, no matter where they went, the Doctor always landed them in trouble.

He was a complete nutter! The worse things got, the happier and more excited he became.

He paused, pulling a snack from his pocket. “Want one?”

Donna shook her head. Maybe the Doctor was bananas because he ate so many of them.

The End

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Sometimes, Rose mused, life aboard the TARDIS could be positively domestic. They were on their way somewhere; she didn’t have a clue where because the Doctor said it was a surprise and she’d find out when they got there, which left her at a bit of a loose end. Mooching around the labyrinth of corridors, she found the Doctor in one of the kitchens.

“Hi!”

“Perfect timing!” the Doctor beamed at her. “I’m just making tea. Fancy a cup?”

“Oooh, yes please!” One thing she and the Doctor always agreed on; there was nothing better than a nice hot cuppa.

The End

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The planet was an unspoiled wilderness, largely made up of wide-open plains and dense, ancient forests where most of the native creatures made their homes. Martha couldn’t help wondering if it was a bit like earth must have been millennia ago, before apes came down out of the trees and evolved into humans.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, entranced, as she sat on a fallen tree trunk, listening to the susurration of the breeze blowing through the leaves high above her. It reminded her of the sound of waves upon a distant shore.

She hoped civilisation would never reach this place.

The End

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The Daleks claimed to have done away with emotion, but that was a lie. They knew nothing of the gentler emotions, it was true, but pride and arrogance and superiority were part and parcel of their make up.

They considered themselves the acme of evolution, the highest and purest example of intelligent life that had ever existed, and as such, judged all lesser races to be an intolerable contamination of their purity, deserving only to be exterminated. Anything that wasn’t a Dalek was by definition inferior, a waste of resources.

They would not stop until all other life was destroyed.

The End

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How dare they? Barging into the TARDIS without a by your leave! Accusing him of holding his own granddaughter prisoner, of all things! Why couldn’t they have minded their own business? The Doctor was displeased; one might even say he was in high dudgeon. Indeed, there was a word that should never have gone out of fashion. Humans were so flighty, even their language seemed to change constantly.

Perhaps it was his own fault; he shouldn’t have allowed Susan to attend the local school, shouldn’t have remained in one place so long.

Whatever should he do about these two teachers?

The End

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The watch has always been with Professor Yana; it was with him when he was found as a child, and even after all these years he’s held onto it, though he can’t say why. It’s old, broken, completely useless, and yet, it’s all he has from before…

He’s never bothered to open it; why would he? There would be no point since it doesn’t work. It’s a keepsake, an ornament, nothing more. Well, perhaps a talisman or good luck charm, something of that nature. The case is attractive though.

They suit each other, two old relics whose time is past.

The End

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Travelling by TARDIS was always an adventure. Even when the Doctor chose a destination and set course for it, there was no absolute guarantee that’s where they’d end up, because the TARDIS was sentient and had a mind of her own.

Even so, when the Doctor said they were going to a planet called Mistlethwip and instead they stepped out into the gateroom at Stargate Command, Donna was flummoxed.

“Bloody hell! You took a wrong turn somewhere, Spaceman! I watch this on TV.”

“This is so cool!” Carter exclaimed. “I’ve never met fictional characters before!”

“Oi! You’re the fictional one!”

The End

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The Doctor loved Donna Noble, she was smart, feisty, brave, funny, and generally amazing in every way, but he also envied her, because she had something he wanted; red hair.

Here he was, well into his tenth regeneration, and his hair had been dark brown, light brown, blond, even white, but never red. He’d wanted to be ginger for ages, but sadly had no idea how to influence what he would look like after regenerating; it was all a bit random.

Still, the next best thing to being ginger was travelling with one. He was having the best fun ever!

The End

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The blue police box was an incongruous sight, something that had once been familiar but had long since fallen out of use.

Where this one had come from was anybody’s guess. Andy Davidson was sure it hadn’t been here earlier; he’d have noticed. Perhaps it was a prop for a TV show, or possibly a hoax, or a student prank.

The door opened and a dishevelled head poked out. “Hello there! What year is this?”

“Um, 2005.”

“Oh bother, I’m early.” The head vanished and with a grinding sound, the blue box faded out.

Andy shrugged. He’d seen stranger things.

The End

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Trapped inside that accursed watch for so long, living a false life… No, he hadn’t been living, he’d merely been existing, but with the opening of the watch he was finally free.

It had provided the perfect disguise, perhaps too perfect. He’d forgotten himself, forgotten the power he wielded, but no more. He remembered now, and he had everything he needed, even a TARDIS. Not his of course, but what did that matter? It would serve him regardless.

Locking himself inside he allowed his regeneration to proceed, gifting him with a new, young body. The Master was back in business

The End

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Yesterday, Martha was just an ordinary medical student, living an equally ordinary life. Since then the hospital had been whisked to the moon and back, she’d met a nutty but gorgeous time and space travelling alien, and now here she was in a grimy little room centuries before her time, having just met William Shakespeare!

Head still whirling, she lay down on the small bed beside the Doctor, acutely aware of how close he was to her, and tried to sleep. This couldn’t be real.

‘I bet I’ll wake up tomorrow and find it was all just a weird dream.’

The End

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The Doctor would have Clara believe there was never any such person as Robin Hood. He’s merely a legend, an invented character, a storybook hero. Clara doesn’t care; whether Robin Hood is real or fictional, Sherwood Forest is where she wants to go, so she can see for herself. She knows by now that all legends have a basis in fact. The Doctor’s a legend across space and time, and he’s perfectly real.

So is Robin, for all that he turns out to be a robot. In the end, what matters is that he existed, not that he never lived.

The End

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Picture the scene; an alien world, trees that bear no resemblance to those found on earth, grass that’s the wrong colour, orange, or pink, or turquoise. Maybe there’s more than one sun in the sky, or twin moons visible by day.

There might be a crystal city in the distance, or herds of peculiar ten-legged creatures gazing on the plains as strange scents fill the air.

Then a powerful wind gusts out of nowhere, a grinding sound stampedes the creatures, a blue box materialises, and people step out. For the Doctor and his companion, another adventure is about to begin.

The End

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The Doctor loved solving problems and putting things right. He was at his happiest when trying to unravel a particularly complicated mystery. He had a brilliant mind and delighted in showing off how clever he was at every opportunity. Modesty wasn’t his strong point; what was the point of being a genius if he didn’t use his intellect to help people?

He didn’t bother with minor mysteries though; anyone could get to the bottom of those. He set his sights considerably higher, but whatever he turned his mind to solving, one thing was always certain; it wouldn’t be a cakewalk!

The End

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River’s life is inextricably entwined with the Doctor’s long before he meets her for the first time in the Library, but they’re out of step with each other; that can happen when you’re a time traveller. She was younger than she is now when she first met him, but he was older, or will be. A later regeneration perhaps.

Really he shouldn’t be surprised that she needs a diary to keep track of their meetings, so she knows what it’s safe to tell him and what has to be kept secret. As she’s told him more than once, “Spoilers, sweetie.”

The End

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Ousted from his own TARDIS! It stung badly enough when the Master stole her, leaving him stranded with Jack and Martha at the end of time, reliant on Jack’s vortex manipulator to transport them back to the past.

That was nothing to how he feels now, wizened and shrunken, locked in a cage. The TARDIS is his and he is hers, but the Master has corrupted her into something unthinkable, evil and perverted: a paradox machine.

It’s so wrong; he longs to go to her, comfort her, restore her to her former glory, but all he can do is wait.

The End

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It’s Amy’s wedding day; she should be happy, she’s marrying Rory, and she loves him with all her heart. Her parents are here, which is wonderful and slightly hard to believe, though she doesn’t know why. Everything is perfect, and yet she’s sad, perhaps sadder than she’s ever been in her life.

It’s as if something is missing, something she can’t identify but which she knows should be here because she feels its absence. So she’s drifting in limbo through what should be the happiest day of her life, waiting for some kind of sign to tell her what’s wrong.

The End

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The Doctor’s lifestyle was impossibly haphazard and chaotic. One day they’d be on an alien planet, the next they might be in the distant past, or on a far future space station.

The interior of the TARDIS seemed to be as disorganised as the Doctor himself, with rooms appearing and disappearing at random; it was a wonder he could ever find anything. Hugger-mugger, that’s what her Granddad would call it; he’d be right at home, but Donna was an orderly person, organised and efficient as befitted a temp. She wasn’t used to such a topsy-turvy life. She’d sort him out.

The End

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Captain Jack Harkness was a charmer; that was the first thing the Doctor noticed about him. With his white teeth flashing in a blinding, perfect smile and a few well-chosen words he could have practically anyone eating out of his hand. Man, woman, alien, it didn’t matter; the Captain was indiscriminate.

Rose fell under his spell immediately, lapping up the dashing Captain’s attention, something the Doctor couldn’t help noticing. It was annoying. Could he be jealous? Surely not; he had no reason to be.

Nevertheless, if he were honest with himself, even he wasn’t completely immune to Jack’s effortless charm.

The End

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How many Daleks were out there? Thousands? Millions? Billions? He’d been vastly outnumbered many times before, had defeated the Daleks more times than he could easily remember, but this time the odds seemed insurmountable. That was why he’d sent Rose to safety. He couldn’t risk her life along with everybody else’s.

He had a plan, but there wasn’t enough time to make the necessary adjustments to the Delta Wave. If he used it, the Daleks would die, but so would every human in the wave’s path. If he didn’t use it, they were doomed anyway.

There was no good choice.

The End

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The view from up here was spectacular; mountains, valleys, forests and plains stretching as far as the eye could see to a far-distant, greenish ocean. Martha leaned on the terrace balustrade and peered downwards before taking several very hasty steps backwards.

“Whoa! That’s a long drop. How high are we?”

The Doctor leaned out over the edge at an angle that made Martha want to grab him and pull him back. “Oh, not all that high really, five or six miles, maybe a bit more. Hard to be exact; the ground’s uneven.”

“I’ll take in the view from back here.”

The End

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‘How does the Doctor not get lost in here?’ Donna wondered as she wended her way through the mazy jumble of rooms and corridors that made up the interior of the TARDIS.

The Doctor had given her detailed directions to the vast room he called the wardrobe before sending her off to change into something suitable for the time period they were visiting, but she had a horrible feeling she’d taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way, because surely this narrow little passageway couldn’t lead to where she wanted to go.

Maybe she should go back and start again.

The End

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Sometimes the best way to keep vital information out of the wrong hands is to encrypt it so it can only be understood by someone who has the cipher, the key to unlocking the apparently nonsensical puzzle.

Many races use such encryptions in times of war to keep knowledge of such things as troop movements and battle plans from their enemies. They work well enough, at least until said enemies manage to get their hands on the cipher.

The Doctor doesn’t need codes; he simply writes in Gallifreyan. As the last of his race, it’s a language only he understands.

The End

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River seldom leaves her diary unattended, citing ‘spoilers’ as the reason she won’t let him read it. She doesn’t want him knowing details of events she’s already lived through that he has yet to experience. On one hand he knows it’s a sensible precaution, but on the other… Well, curiosity is one of his major personality traits, so from the moment he first set eyes on that bulging book he’s been longing to get his hands on it.

When he finally does it’s almost insulting; River’s written the whole thing in code! Does she really think he can’t decrypt it?

The End

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The Halassi Androvar is perfect, flawless, priceless beyond belief, the most valuable diamond in the universe. All other diamonds, indeed all other gems of any kind, pale into insignificance beside it, mere baubles, worthless trinkets, insignificant bits of shiny mineral. River should know; she’s seen, stolen, and owned enough of them.

She’s never owned this one though, not yet, and her fingers itch because it’s so close and yet so far, lodged inside the equally insignificant brain of her ‘husband’. She’s supposed to return it to the Halassi, but…

First, looks like she needs a surgeon. Heads don’t remove themselves.

The End

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Donna’s reasonably sure the Doctor knows what he’s talking about, he’s always pointing out how brilliant he is, but despite taking science at school, most of what her friend explains to her goes right over her head, just a meaningless babble of nonsense words. Time Lord science is a bit more advanced than anything taught in British secondary schools; if she could understand what he was on about she’d be a genius too, not just a temp.

Then things get a bit freaky and instead of plain old Donna Noble, she’s the Doctor Donna. Technobabble’s easy when you know how.

The End

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The Doctor can’t understand it; why is everyone against his choice of headgear? He likes it, the colour and the tassel; fezzes are cool, but nobody else seems to agree.

A trip to America gives him the opportunity to try another kind of hat; it’s very different from his fez, but checking himself out in a mirror he likes what he sees. Stetsons are very cool and it goes down a little better with his companions, but he still feels they’re judging him. So unfair!

Well, let’s see how they like his new style. What’s cooler than a bobble hat?

The End

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Rose hadn’t thought so, but it turns out life is full of surprises. She’d been resigned to a boring existence, working in a shop, living with her mum until she could afford a flat of her own, then maybe getting married and having kids to start the cycle all over again.

Instead, her she is, hand in hand with some strange big-eared Northern bloke with a manic smile, running for her life from a bunch of plastic store mannequins that’re a whole lot more lively than they should be, and it’s… terrifying, but fun.

She’s certain she’d follow him anywhere.

The End

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The TARDIS is huge, which is fortunate because the Doctor’s been to so many places and times, and souvenirs do pile up. It’s not just the souvenirs either; there’s useful stuff too, clothes in every style and every size, handy gadgets he’s invented, a whole room stuffed with confiscated weapons, and of course plenty of tea. That’s an absolute necessity because some places it’s hard to get and nothing’s better than a nice cup of tea.

So here he is, in a TARDIS stuffed to the brim with everything he could want, and yet without Rose, it just seems empty.

The End

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He’d had hopes, however misguided they might have been. For a year that wasn’t, he hadn’t been the last of his kind. There’d been another Time Lord, someone he’d once called friend before the best parts of him had been lost as he’d gazed into the Untempered Schism. Mad and ruthless though the Master had become, he’d been the closest thing to family the Doctor had left, and he’d wanted so badly to hold on to him, perhaps heal him.

It wasn’t to be, so here he stands, watching the Master’s body char and burn away to dust. Hopes dashed.

The End

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The Doctor doesn’t quite understand what keeps drawing him back to earth. He’s tried many times to figure it out, telling himself it’s because humans have so much potential, which is true enough, and that they bear a striking physical resemblance to Gallifreyans despite only having a single heart, but surely there’s more to it than that.

Earth is a world of many nations, most of which seem to regard all others as alien, regardless of the fact that they’re all the same species. What will it take to unite them as one? Perhaps that’s what he hopes to discover.

The End

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Nature is incredibly diverse; the universe throngs with creatures, both sentient and not, adapted to suit every kind of environment imaginable.

There are creatures who swim through sand as though it were water, and others to whom vast ice-fields feel pleasantly warm. Still more make their homes deep underwater, shunning the surface where they’d suffocate, unable to breathe air not extracted from water by their gills. These aquatic creatures are the ones the Doctor knows least about; he can’t breathe their atmosphere any more that they can breathe his, but he envies their freedom to explore where he can’t go.

The End

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To those who sell them as commodities, the Ood are essentially fungible. One Ood is much like the next, just another saleable item, inventory to bring in profits. Ood live to serve, so let them.

For a time everyone wanted them, tractable servants who could do whatever was required of them, but sales are down at the moment, necessitating a price drop. Sell more cheaply in bulk to the military and profits will go up again. They’re just Ood after all, plenty more where they came from.

But the Ood are changing, bit-by-bit. If their eyes turn red, watch out!

The End

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Madame Vastra conceals her appearance behind a veil of black lace. It’s an affectation, but perhaps a necessity; little can be accomplished if people run screaming in terror from one’s presence. Apes such as those who currently inhabit earth are all too quick to label anyone a little different a monster.

There are some exceptions, the odd human here and there who doesn’t find her alarming, most notably her darling Jenny, but they’re few and far between. Besides, the veil lends her an air of mystery that seems rather appropriate, considering her chosen line of work involves investigating mysterious events.

The End

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Every race in the universe has its own kinds of greetings, and the Doctor doesn’t merely mean in terms of different languages.

On some worlds, the proper greeting involves spitting in each other’s face, while on others, rubbing buttocks is the height of good manners.

Delviunx Eight, for instance, has elaborate dances for everything from inviting guests into your home, to saying hello to family members, friends, or strangers on the street. The Doctor does his best not to cause offence, but he’s slightly hampered by only having one pair of arms.

Thankfully the natives make allowances for such deficiencies.

The End

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It’s London, but not. Where there should be city streets, traffic jams, and impressive buildings of architectural importance, instead there are mostly trees, bushes, and the occasional massively overgrown hedge.

It’s wrong. Somehow all this vegetation has grown overnight, choking the city, turning all that was once familiar into a wilderness where unseen dangers could lurk behind every tree trunk. Worse, it seems it’s not just London but the whole planet.

It’s a mystery; forests don’t grow in a single night and yet this one has. Clara can think of only one person who might be able to fix it.

The End

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Daleks have only one purpose in life: to expunge every other life form from existence. Tolerance isn’t something they’re known for. Anything not a Dalek is seen as inferior, an intolerable stain on the fabric of the universe, something that must be removed in order to restore universal purity.

They care nothing for other species’ right to life, have no interest in natural evolution, or the many amazing discoveries that have been made by non-Daleks. Art and music and culture are things they don’t understand. They see themselves as the pinnacle of creation.

The Doctor knows they must be stopped.

The End

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Rose loves her mum. Her dad too, now she’s had the chance to get to know him. He’s a good man, and he’s overjoyed at having a daughter.

She’s got a baby brother now, and dotes on him the way any big sister should. This is what it means to be part of a family. It’s good.

But it’s not enough.

When she looks in the mirror she can tell she’s not fooling herself. She wants more than this, wants what she had, to travel the universe with her Doctor. She’ll do whatever it takes to get back to him.

The End

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The Doctor treats every crisis like a game, some grand adventure with mysteries and puzzles to be solved, the main prize being survival. The more perilous the situation, the more he seems to come alive, enthusiastically pitting his wits against his opponents in a battle of intellect. He uses every sneaky, underhanded trick in the book to outwit sometimes vastly superior numbers, and he seldom needs to resort to force.

That’s fortunate, because when the Doctor stops playing games and gets angry… Watch out!

There’s a reason he’s referred to in some parts of the universe as the Oncoming Storm.

The End

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Instead of trying to get away, the Doctor walks towards River, knowing what’s coming. She knows it too, and it terrifies her, and yet he seems completely unafraid, not trying to get away, just standing there ready to sacrifice himself, like a martyr for some cause perhaps nobody can fully understand.

“I can’t stop it.”

“You’re not supposed to. This has to happen.”

She begs him to run, but he refuses; he already tried that. Didn’t work.

“This is inevitable, a fixed point.”

Not on River’s watch, it isn’t. Fixed points can be rewritten. She fires, repeatedly, and…

“Hello, sweetie.”

The End

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“What’s this?” Clara asked, scrutinising a complicated looking formula scrawled in Gallifreyan numbers and symbols on the Doctor’s blackboard.

“That? Oh, I was just doodling.”

“Yeah, but what is it?”

“Basic Gallifreyan mathematics; the Felloraxic Constant. It calculates the ratio of a circle’s circumference to…”

“To its diameter. Yeah, we have that too, but we call it Pi.”

“Humans have mastered the Felloraxic Constant?” the Doctor asked in disbelief.

“You didn’t know?”

“Never thought to ask.”

“A fellow named Archimedes, somewhere around 250 BC in ancient Greece. Maybe you’ve heard of him?”

“Ah, that explains it. Archimedes was an alien.”

The End

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“New Cardiff? You’re ‘aving me on!”

“No I’m not! Why would I do that? This is New Cardiff, premier city of New Wales!”

“Doesn’t look much like Wales to me,” Donna noted as she followed the Doctor along bustling streets. “What’s so special about this place then?”

“Ah, if I told you that then it wouldn’t be a surprise!” He pushed open a door to a busy little café. “Here we are!”

“Great! Now what?”

“Now you get to sample the best fruit pies in the entire universe!”

“We came all this way for pie?”

“Yep! I recommend the zurzberry.”

The End

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The Doctor would sooner hide than fight. Fighting means violence, and violence all too often leads to injury, destruction, death… Innocent lives lost for reasons that seldom make good sense. Fighting is not his way, or so he repeatedly tells himself, because he’d rather not remember the times he’s turned his hand to violence. The War Doctor is a facet of himself he’d prefer not to acknowledge.

In most cases, hiding gives everyone a better chance of survival, it’s the safest course of action, but when it doesn’t work… That’s when the Oncoming Storm makes the universe tremble in fear.

The End

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Every word the Master speaks, when he’s not issuing threats, is mere flummery, and the Doctor knows it. He closes his ears to the meaningless flattery, understanding that it’s just another way for his former friend to manipulate people to his own ends.

It won’t last; if he can’t get what he wants with insincere words of praise and admiration, twisting innocent people to his will, then he’ll do it by force, and not even those who have allied themselves with him will be safe from his wrath.

His civilised veneer will crack, revealing the monster that lurks just beneath.

The End

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The Doctor has the uncanny ability to flummox everyone he meets. All he needs to do is open his mouth and start talking, rambling away in his usual incomprehensible technobabble. Sometimes, Donna is sure he does it on purpose, just to see the baffled expressions of confusion on everyone’s faces.

This time though, it seems the Doctor has met his match; not only has he completely failed to confuse Professor Song, but he doesn’t quite seem to know what he should do about it, so he just gapes at her, utterly bewildered.

For her part, River simply smiles. “Spoilers, Sweetie.”

The End

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There’s a beginning for all living things, for good or ill. No creature simply appears; it must evolve gradually, from a single cell into something far more complex. Or, it must be created.

In some cases, its genesis might be a combination of both.

The Doctor was sent to Skaro on a mission; avert the creation of the Daleks, or ensure that they evolved as less aggressive and xenophobic creatures.

He failed in both respects; perhaps their creation was a fixed point, but he had to believe that despite their destructive tendencies, some good might come out of their existence.

The End

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It goes beyond mere frustration; Clara feels completely out of her depth. The Doctor she knows and cares for is gone, replaced by this impostor with a Scottish accent.

She knows he’s the Doctor too, the new version, she watched him change, but she’d expected him to still be essentially himself and he’s just… not.

He doesn’t even make sense when he’s talking. It’s obvious something is seriously wrong with him; the disjointed rambling, the loss of memory, the fact he keeps passing out…

If Clara knew how to fix him she would, but she doesn’t know where to start.

The End

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Another alien world, one of many, but for once they’re not running from some kind of danger, and not running to anything either, they’re just stopped, in a peaceful woodland glade by a rushing stream. It’s a welcome change of pace.

“How much further is it,” Amy asks, meaning their destination.

“Another half a day’s walk perhaps.” The Doctor sits at the base of a tree, looking more relaxed than Amy’s ever seen him. “We’ll bivouac here tonight.”

“Why didn’t we just land closer, save ourselves the walk?” Rory wants to know.

“Because half the fun is in getting there.”

The End

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It’s like quarantine in reverse; those not affected lock themselves away in one small section of the Drum while the ‘ghosts’, their former colleagues, roam freely, trying to get to them, turn them into whatever they’ve now become. It’s a desperate situation, because the ‘ghosts’ aren’t giving up.

It’s safe enough to leave their refuge during what passes for day, whatever these ghosts are, they only become active when the Drum is in night mode, but what will happen now they’ve have discovered how to trigger night mode whenever they want?

The Doctor hopes they won’t have to find out.

The End

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Yvonne Hartman was the worst kind of fool, consumed by an unquenchable hunger for more power. The return of the British Empire was her goal, no doubt with her right up there, if not in charge then whispering in the ear of the one who was. The sheer energy being produced by the interdimensional breach would secure Britain’s independence from the rest of the world.

As far as Hartman was concerned, the ghosts that started popping up everywhere weren’t salient, an unimportant side effect to be shrugged off and ignored.

Just like that, she came close to dooming the world.

The End

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The Dalek ship is huge; earth’s space shuttle would probably fit in one corner, looking like a tiny ornament. The Daleks were scary enough before, but being on their ship, surrounded by them, all Rose can do is cling to her faith in the Doctor, sure he won’t let her die.

Seeing his face on the viewscreen is immediately reassuring. He doesn’t look scared, or worried, he’s calm and confident, determined.

“I’m going to save Rose Tyler from the middle of the Dalek fleet.”

After that, he’ll save earth and destroy the Daleks.

Rose doesn’t doubt him for a second.

The End

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They move as a collective, like a swarm of ants converging on the small group of people beside the crashed Chula ship. They have no mind or will of their own, they’re merely following the ship’s orders, coming to protect it.

Dozens of people with gasmasks fused to their faces, built to conform to what the nanogenes think a human should look like. They’ll keep on transforming whoever they touch until everyone on the whole planet is the same, and the Doctor can only think of one way to stop it.

Everything rests on a young mother claiming her son.

The End

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He’s taken her to alien planets, earth in the past, other worlds in the future, and she’s seen more weird and amazing things than she would have dreamed of before she met him, yet no matter where they go or what they do, one thing is almost always the same.

“Run for your life!” The Doctor grabs Rose by the hand, practically dragging her behind him as he starts to run, glancing back over his shoulder.

It’s as insane as it is ridiculous; she’s breathless, terrified but exhilarated, and she runs because she has no choice. This is her life.

The End

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Rose tugs the Doctor’s sleeve and points. “Look! A fish and chip shop! We’re on an alien planet in the future and they have fish and chips! We should get some!”

“Nah.” The Doctor shakes his head. “You don’t want fish and chips when you’re on an alien planet! That’s boring. You should try some of the local dishes. Snooburgers, or Kadlavashi, or Dingles. They’re sort of like Swedish meatballs, only spicier.”

“I thought you liked fish and chips!”

“I do, but the chips here are soggy and they never get the batter right.”

“Ugh! I’ll try the meatballs instead.”

The End

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There’s no comfort in reality for Jack. Twenty-four hours a day he stands here in the heat and noise and stink of the Valiant’s engine room, the chains around his wrists keeping him upright. He can’t sit down or even kneel, and his shoulders scream from the strain. Sometimes, if he falls asleep from exhaustion or passes out from pain, his arms get pulled from their sockets. They always heal again, but he has to stand on his tiptoes for that to happen.

The only comfort he has is in dreams, and the knowledge that his team is still free.

The End

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Ancient Greece is certainly impressive with its beautiful architecture. Okay, to Rory and Amy it seems primitive compared to their own time, and the atmosphere can best be described as pungent, partly due to all the animals, but it remains one of the greatest civilisations in earth’s history; a time of brilliant minds and amazing scientific discovery.

As they wander the streets, they see letters of the Greek alphabet carved into walls and archways, and after a while Rory draws the Doctor’s attention to them.

“What do they mean?”

The Doctor shrugs. “I don’t know; it’s all Greek to me.”

The End

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It made a change for the Doctor to travel with someone who was genuinely interested in the universe’s varied cultures. Someone who was enthusiastic to learn about the traditions and history of the people they encountered, who wanted to taste the native dishes, explore the museums and galleries, learn the local mannerisms and mores to avoid causing offence…

Ianto Jones was lapping it all up and still wanting to learn more, the Doctor had no regrets about bringing him along. In fact he couldn’t imagine why he’d never invited him before.

“This is boring,” Jack grumbled.

Ah, now he remembered.

The End

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Humans left earth long ago to colonise other planets, but never quite let go of their homeworld. They created earth anew wherever they went, but gave each colony world a different name until they found this one.

The year was five billion and the original earth, humanity’s birthplace, was gone, burnt to a crisp as the sun expanded. But this planet was so like the one they’d just lost that they named it New Earth. Why not?

That was more or less how the Doctor explained it.

But to Rose, it was nothing like earth. It was much too clean.

The End

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The Doctor doesn’t seem to understand the concept of working for a living. It’s alright for him, he lives in a blue box that can go anywhere and anywhen. He doesn’t have to worry about bills; he doesn’t have any. He’s the time and space equivalent of a gypsy with a mobile home, only his doesn’t need petrol.

Clara, on the other hand, needs her job. She can’t just skip out of class whenever the Doctor shows up.

Then again, these kids are in detention; she doubts they’d mind leaving early.

“Okay, that’s long enough, you can all go home.”

The End

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This always seemed to happen; the Doctor would be extolling the virtues of wherever they were visiting, they’d set out to see the sights, and the next think Donna knew, they’d be up to their necks in trouble of one kind or another. And it didn’t end there, because the Doctor always had to meddle, although he called it setting things right.

It was admirable in a way, he was dedicated to solving other people’s problems, but he had a habit of diving in headfirst. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Donna sighed. “Here we go again!”

The End

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The first time Martha encountered the Doctor, when he accosted her in the street and took his tie off at her, she wondered if he was high on drugs. The odd behaviour, the manic grin… maybe he’d been smoking pot or something. Or maybe he was an escaped lunatic. Whatever; he definitely wasn’t playing with a full deck.

Later, after the hospital being transported to the moon, the space rhinos, and the bikers in black, she decided she’d been wrong. The Doctor lived more completely in the moment than anyone she’d ever met. She wanted to experience that for herself.

The End

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“Where to; the far future, distant past, or another world? Take your pick, I can take you anywhere and any time!”

The Doctor’s enthusiasm was infectious, but how could Donna possibly choose? Where do you start when you have all of time and space spread out in front of you? There was so much to see and do…

It popped into her head out of nowhere. Not a distant world; that could wait. Another epoch, back when strange creatures roamed and the earth was still young.

“Dinosaurs! I want to see dinosaurs, like in Jurassic Park.”

The Doctor grinned. “Brilliant!”

The End

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Time Lord technology is brilliant, which is unsurprising; the scientists of Gallifrey were second to none. Perhaps the Doctor is slightly biased; they were his people after all, even though he is the last survivor. His race may be extinct, but much of their technology remains, scattered across far off worlds.

The Doctor has in his possession the greatest of all Time Lord technologies, a TARDIS, designed to be bigger on the inside. It’s impressive, but what’s even more ingenious is the miniaturised version. Anything he might need he carries with him; his pockets are bigger on the inside too.

The End

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Two of him was confusing enough, but now there’s three of him, which should be worse and sort of is, but it’s not the first time three of his regenerations have wound up in the same place at the same time. Just, last time it was a different three.

Still, here they are on earth, England, 1562; the Doctor’s Tenth regeneration, Eleventh regeneration, and the other one, the one neither of the other two likes to think about too much.

The War Doctor, their… ancestor, in a manner of speaking.

For some reason he doesn’t seem terribly impressed with them.

The End

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The world’s full of diet pills, all promising to help people lose weight. Not that Donna considers herself overweight, although her mother has made a few snide remarks… No, it’s just there’s something hinky about this new pill. Take one a day for three weeks and you’ll be slim? There must be a catch; nothing works that well or that fast.

Claiming she’s from Health and Safety, Donna tricks her way behind the scenes at Adipose Industries to dig around, see what she can find out. It’s like being a private investigator.

If only the Doctor could see her now!

The End

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Martha could understand why the magistrate was getting annoyed with the Doctor. Despite being on trial for a supposed crime, the Time Lord was objecting to the questions asked by his own defence council as well as the prosecutor.

The trial had turned into chaos the moment the Doctor had taken the stand. He seemed intent on disagreeing with everyone, correcting everything from the facts of the case to points of law.

“Who do you think you are to make a mockery of this court?” the magistrate demanded angrily.

“I’m the Doctor, and I’m a stickler for getting things right.”

The End

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It’s pandemonium in Torchwood Tower, terrified people frantically trying to escape as Daleks and Cybermen wage war against each other. Many get caught in the crossfire; others are ruthlessly exterminated to deny the Cybermen the opportunity to create more soldiers. It makes no difference; for every one the Daleks kill, the Cybermen convert two.

They’ve given up transplanting brains into purpose-built bodies; now they’re simply implanting Cybertechnology into living humans. It’s faster, and there are plenty of humans available for conversion.

The death toll is rising fast. If the Doctor doesn’t stop this soon there’ll be nobody left to save.

The End

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Universal peace and harmony, with every race in accord, is perhaps unlikely but the Doctor sees no harm in hoping it will eventually come to pass. Admittedly some races aren’t genetically wired for peace, Daleks, Cybermen, and humans among them, but it would hardly be any kind of challenge if they were.

The universe is such a vast, varied place, filled with so many sentient races, some peaceful and civilised, and others not. Bringing them all into harmony is a task that could take all of eternity, but it’s a goal worth striving towards.

Even Time Lords need a hobby.

The End

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Flowers are amazing, so many bright, eye-catching colours, and so many delicate and delightful fragrances. How could anyone fail to feel happy surrounded by so much natural beauty? Of all things in nature, surely flowers are among the most loved and admired.

The artists of a billion worlds might copy their splendour, capture their images to delight future generations, but the Doctor can’t imagine even the finest artist in the universe ever succeeding in surpassing them. There’s a reason they’re so often given as tokens of love.

The Doctor adores flowers; he just wishes their pollen didn’t make him sneeze.

The End

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Considering that Queen Victoria had set up Torchwood to protect earth and the British Empire from aliens, including himself, the Doctor wasn’t surprised that the organisation’s charter was largely a polemic aimed at him. It effectively named him public enemy number one, despite the fact that he was dedicated to protecting the planet from aliens who really were a threat. He couldn’t help thinking Her Majesty had overreacted, just a bit.

Still, that little misunderstanding wasn’t going to deter him from coming to the rescue whenever earth needed him. If Torchwood wanted to capture him, they were welcome to try.

The End

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“Hello, Sweetie!”

With a toss of her hair, a saucy wink, and an even saucier smirk, River Song was back in the Doctor’s life. He never knew when or where he’d run unto his wife again, but neither did he ever doubt that at some point he would, usually when he least expected to.

He lived for those surprise encounters as much as he did for setting the universe to rights. More often than not she showed up just when he could really use the help of someone smart, capable, fearless, and utterly devious.

She was that kind of person.

The End