#diaryofriversong

“For the hundredth time, you hairy legged highlander!” snapped the Doctor as he pounded, somewhat childishly, on the console while his companion laughed at him. “You must have misunderstood that young lady back there! Now, I want you to drop it and forget we ever bumped into those two!”

“But, Doctor,” countered an amused Jamie, “you heard as well as I. And you’ve got to admit, she was a pretty lassie, and that man you said was to be you one day coudnae take his eyes off her, could he?” He nudged the alien playfully in the ribs, and added, “Or, should I say, you couldnae take your eyes off her!”

The Doctor blushed---actually blushed. “Why---! My TARDIS is a sophisticated piece of machinery, designed for the scientific exploration of knowledge, not for canoodling at the console! If you’re suggesting---I’m telling you, that woman did not say---You obviously misheard----She must have said a similar word, like...like...” The Doctor fumbled with his hands for a moment, as if attempting to capture such a word out of the air. He eventually went with: “Fife! Perhaps they were headed for Fife! O-o-or maybe they were referring to the instrument! I am rather fond of woodwinds. Perhaps my future self prefers the fife over the recorder!”

“Whatever you say, Doctor,” said Jamie, although he continued to laugh a little as he walked away, toward the inner rooms of the TARDIS. When he turned the corner---not before giving his friend a final teasing look---the Doctor was left alone.

The Time Lord waved an annoyed hand in Jamie’s direction before turning to face the console. He pushed at a few buttons grumpily, pulled up a lever to his right, and watched as the time rotor stilled. He’d decided to let the TARDIS drift through deep space for a while. For once, he wasn’t in the mood for a new adventure right off. It certainly wasn’t to do with their meeting with his future self, of course, nor that woman with the curly hair and a roguish smile, no sir! It’s just that he wasn’t quite sure where to take Jamie next, is all.

Still, the Doctor found himself thinking back, despite himself, to what his future regeneration had said when they’d bumped into each other---literally (and painfully) forehead-meets-nose, backsides meet concrete bumped into---back in New New York in the year 4918, at the end of his and Jamie’s weeklong tour of the very first New Earth. According to him, the floppy-haired, bowtie-clad young chap (who at least seemed to have a sense of style, if the Doctor did say so himself, eyebrow-less and chinny visage aside), he had just been returning from a Christmas party in New New Jersey with his----well, er, his companion.

Oh, how the Doctor wished he’d caught her name so he wouldn’t be forced to think of that word she had used---or, he corrected himself, Jamie had mistakenly misheard her use---as a replacement when she’d introduced herself!

The W word.

Just as the Doctor was beginning to fret all over again about that word, a strange sensation came over him, like air being displaced somewhere nearby, followed by a feeling that he was no longer alone in the console room. He spun around on his heel to find himself face to face with someone who was very much not Jamie McCrimmon.

“Oh, my word!” He practically jumped in the air when he recognized the intruder. Tall, beautiful, and with a head of hair that was all blonde curls beneath an extravagant red-hooded winter cloak, she grinned at him with that same roguish air as before---It was the woman who had been with---well, him, future him, back on New Earth!  “You! What? How---how did you get on my ship?”

“Oh, you know,” the woman replied casually as she lifted her left arm to reveal a large watch-like device attached to her wrist. “When one has a vortex manipulator and access to the TARDIS’s coordinate input history, she can find her way to virtually any destination she pleases.”

The Doctor gaped at her, at a rare loss for words. Eventually, he managed, “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I am supposed to be enjoying a peaceful Christmas evening with my husband. Perhaps unwind with some cocoa, A Christmas Carol, and a snuggle after spending the whole day at the biggest party of the 50th century. But, what can I say? I was curious.”

“Curious about what, may I ask?”

“You may.” The woman smirked at him then, and suddenly the Doctor felt an odd sensation he couldn’t altogether place. He tried to shrug it off. “You. I was curious about you. It’s quite a rare treat to come across other yous. It’s usually just the one. And you’re always so secretive. I hardly know anything about your other lives. I had to take the chance to meet you properly.” Before the Doctor could ask her anything else, she asked her own question. “Tell me, which one are you?”

“Which one am I?” said the Doctor, perhaps too loudly. He was not nearly as relaxed as his visitor seemed to be. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean!”

“Ooh, must be an earlier one, then. I don’t think I’ve gone back nearly this far. How many regenerations?”

“Well, one, madam, if you must know, and I don’t intend on going through another one any time soon, thank you very much! Nasty, uncomfortable things, they are! And you never know what you’ll end up with. They’re quite the gamble.”

“That they are, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Even the greatest and scariest change can lead to something wonderful.” There was a moment filled by silence in which the Doctor wasn’t sure how to respond, but then the woman continued, “Well, can’t stay long, I’m afraid. Risking altering the fabric of time and space by being here and all that. But, before I go…”

She stepped two large paces forward, closing most of the space between them. The Doctor stared, wide eyed, up at her---as she was wearing a pair of those stilts some humans inexplicably seem to find fashionable---but did not budge from where he stood. She looked him over, down and up again, before reaching past her cloak to pull something out of a pocket. “Happy Christmas, Doctor.”

The Doctor peered down, suspicious of the small parcel she now held in her hand---even if he did immediately notice that, whatever was inside, it was encased in a box the exact color of something very familiar to him.

“TARDIS blue,” the woman said, as if she could read his thoughts. She was watching him closely. “I hope you like it.”

The Doctor hesitated for a moment, eyeing the gift as if it might possibly contain a tiny explosive, before finally taking it from her palm. His hand brushed hers as he did so. “Well...thank you.”

He was a little unsure what to do next. This human gift giving tradition wasn’t something he was accustomed to---at least not yet. He looked between his surprise guest and her gift awkwardly before deciding the most logical course of action from here was probably to open it.

The box was unwrapped, so he simply had to pull off the top to reveal the object within. The Doctor had no idea what he had been expecting the gift to be, but he’d certainly not expected the immediate swell of delight he felt upon its reveal.

“What do you think?”

“It’s...it’s….”

“Exactly your style, don’t you think?”

The Doctor nodded, and then reached inside the box to retrieve his gift.

“Allow me,” said the woman, taking both it and the box from him. She returned the box to her pocket and then held the gift level with his collar. “May I?”

“Er...yes.”

The woman smiled---almost...wickedly, the Doctor thought, unsure exactly how he felt about that---and reached forward to undo his bowtie. Then she wrapped the new one around his neck, briefly invading his personal space to fit it underneath his collar before stepping back to tie it, and then further back to admire her work. She retrieved something else from a pocket---a compact mirror---and flipped it open to face the Doctor before repeating her earlier question, “So, what do you think?”

The Doctor regarded himself from the neck up in the tiny reflection, almost forgetting the bizarre circumstance he had found himself in---accepting a Christmas gift from a strange intruder he’d only briefly met after he’d serendipitously head-butted his future self on New Earth. He tugged slightly on the ends of his new bowtie, admiring the tiny white dots on black fabric. The pattern reminded him of stars.

“I love it!” he said sincerely, beaming at the woman. “I am afraid I have nothing for you, though.”

The woman laughed a little. “I wouldn’t have expected so. I did turn up here very much unannounced.”

“That you did,” said the Doctor, who’s expression almost immediately returned to a frown, as if suddenly remembering he was supposed to be cross. “And if you'll forgive me for saying so, you really shouldn't have come here! The timeline of a member of my race is a terribly delicate thing. You are clearly someone from my future. A….significant someone, it seems. By seeking me out now, you're risking---why, you're risking--!" “Spoilers?” the woman suggested.

“Well…” said the Doctor, oddly taken aback. “Yes, I suppose you could put it that way.”

“Not to worry, dear. I’ve already thought of that. This is all to come for you, of course, but this is hardly the last time you’ll be crossing into your own timeline. I suspect you won’t remember me---or him---after I’ve gone.”

“Oh, I have my doubts about that. I have got a rather impressive memory, if I do say so myself.”

“I agree. All mind blocks caused by inter-regenerational contact aside, anyway.” The woman stepped even closer then and, reaching past the Doctor, began to type coordinates into the console.

The Doctor did not object, despite now being somewhat wedged between her and the panel behind him. And he certainly made no attempt to slap away her hand, as had become a habit with Jamie whenever he tried to have a go at one of the buttons, somehow wary of what the consequences might be if he did.

“I better use the TARDIS to shift me forward in time, if you don’t mind, back to the TARDIS of my time, and my you. A bit more reliable than this old thing.” The woman gestured once again to the gadget on her wrist. “Bluetooth connection should still work in the past, is that right, darling?”

“A blue tooth? I’m afraid I don’t have one of those,” said the Doctor from somewhere near her shoulder.

“Wasn’t talking to you, dear.”

“Well, who else would you have….?”

The Doctor trailed off when a flickering light caught his eye from the other side of the room. Both he and the woman looked over to find the monitor on and displaying a blinking message:

YES.

“What?!” exclaimed the Doctor, not sure if he should feel more shocked or betrayed that the TARDIS actually responded to her.

“Excellent,” said the woman, and she stepped back again. The Doctor remained pressed against the console.

”Between you and me, I bumped into the wrong you twice trying to get here. One was rather nice, and much younger-looking than I was expecting from your early years. Very pretty. The other could have been a bit more polite to his visitor, unannounced or not, and had a dreadful sense of fashion. But, then, what else is new? No offense.”

“Oh...well, none taken,” said the Doctor, who was utterly lost for words at this point.

“And they say one mellows with age…”

She trailed off, now tinkering with the vortex manipulator. After another moment, she said with a smile, “That should do it!” Turning her head up to gaze at the unmoving time rotor, she said, once again to the TARDIS itself it seemed, “Delete those coordinates after I’ve gone, dear. Once I leave this time zone he shouldn’t remember me anyway, but just in case. Can’t have him following me to his own future.”

The Doctor gaped when his ship hummed in response, the lights around them blinking softly. Once. Twice. She’s agreeing with her! he realized, almost too surprised to be grumpy about it. Almost.

He finally detached himself himself from the console, muttering something along the lines of “....traitorous, backstabbing machine!”

The woman, unfazed, stroked the console once before turning back to face him, still smiling but with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“I’m afraid this is goodbye, then. Sorry for the break-in. And the other two.”

“Wait a moment!” said the Doctor, and he was the one to step closer to the woman this time. “I never got your name.”

“Spoilers,” she replied, smirking at him once again. “Merry Christmas, Sweetie. See you soon!” And with that, she leaned in, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and briefly adjusted his new tie before pressing a button on her vortex manipulator. In an instant she vanished into thin air, and was gone as quickly as she had appeared.

Baffled, and looking somewhat ruffled, the Doctor stood unmoving for a long moment. In fact, he only managed to fully come back to himself when he heard Jamie’s footsteps from the adjoining corridor several minutes later. When he appeared, carrying two cups of tea, one in each hand, the Doctor’s demeanor changed in an instant.

“Jamie, there you are!”

“Here I am.” Jamie stopped at the console and offered one of the cups to the Doctor. “Listen, I’m sorry for teasing you earlier.”

The Doctor gave him a confused look, trying to recall what exactly the Highlander was apologizing for. After a moment, despite still not remembering, he accepted the peace offering anyway and simply said, “Oh...well, don’t worry about it. It’s forgotten!”

Jamie smiled contentedly as the Doctor sipped at the tea he’d made for them, but then did a double take, eyebrows knitting together as he stepped closer to his alien friend---or, more specifically, his neck.. “Er, Doctor?”

“Yes, Jamie?”

“Have you put on a different tie while I was gone?”

The Doctor waved off his question as he stepped closer to the console with his tea, eyes raking the controls as if contemplating which sequence of then would bring the two of them to the most entertaining destination. “Why of course not, Jamie. Don’t be silly.”

“Come on, I know you changed it. Was this some sort of test? A game? To see if I’d notice?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’ve only been  gone a few minutes and I haven’t left the console room. Do you think I keep a spare tie in the time rotor? For emergencies?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” said Jamie, half crossing his arms over his own cup.

“You know, that’s not a half bad idea.”

“What isn’t?”

“Keeping a spare bowtie in the console room.”

“You’re not serious!”

“I am!” insisted the Doctor, although the look in his eyes said otherwise. “You never know when you’re going to have to make a good impression. A tie can make all the difference in the world when it comes to looking presentable. Especially bowties! It’s best to come prepared.”

Jamie chuckled, shaking his head, before taking a long sip of tea. “Whatever you say, Doctor.”