#three era

For a centuries old alien genius, the Doctor could be really quite petulant and childish.

“Come out of the box, Doctor,” the Brigadier lectured towards the tall, blue police box parked in the lab.

“I will not,” the Doctor replied from inside, his voice distant and faint. A hammering could be heard echoing through the box.

Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart sighed. “You drew the short straw, fair and square. You have to wear the Santa costume.”

“No!”

“Doctor, you can’t escape this in your box. Your people broke it, remember.” It was only the fifth time so far that month he had tried to escape UNIT. Perhaps he was adjusting after all.

“I can try!”

The smiling face of Jo Grant lit up the room as she strolled in, bemused by the Brigadier’s antics. “Has he locked himself in there again?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered, continuing to glare at the TARDIS. “Could you tell Benton and Yates to gather the men? We’re going to batter our way into that infernal box once and for all.”

“I have an easier idea,” Jo told him.

“No, no,” the Brigadier chided. “The men won’t touch that costume with a barge pole. It’s about time we’ve found someone else to stick Santa duty on.”

“No, no, not that,” Jo replied. “It’s just that I have a key.”

It was a dark night, and the weather, as it is so often in Britain, was poor. Rain poured down from the sky, soaking the picturesque English countryside. Thunder rattled the windows of the cottage, the flash of light accompanying it a stark contrast to the cloudy night sky. Not that Liz Shaw noticed any of it, of course, busy as she was with her research.

A loud knocking sound, interrupted her concentration, and the flask she was carrying spilled all over the table. Grumbling to herself, she wiped it up, thankful it wasn’t anything particularly hazardous but irritated to have to pause in her experiments. And then again, the knock sounded. Liz glanced to the window, expecting to see the tree outside banging against the walls at the whims of the breeze. But no, the branches had fallen off earlier in the storm. The knock sounded again, and Liz got up and walked to the door.

Upon opening the door, a ludicrously dressed young man bounded in. “Liz!” he exclaimed, trying to hug her.

Liz sidestepped, and the man crashed into a wall. “Do I know you?” she asked, advancing on him.

“Don’t you remember me?” he asked, looking hurt. “It’s me! The Doctor!”

Liz chuckled. “I don’t remember the Doctor ever looking like a twelve-year-old.”

The Doctor glanced at his reflection in a window, making faces. “Twelve? Do I really look that young?”

Liz just rolled her eyes. “Tell me who you are or leave me alone,” she demanded.

The Doctor pointed outside. “You see that?” he asked. “The police box. The same police box I brought in to UNIT all those years ago. The one that can go anywhere and anywhere.”

“Can,” replied Liz, giggling, “but never manages to. You never got that old thing to work when I was around.”

“You’d be surprised at the difference a few centuries can make,” he replied, noting Liz’s bemusement at the word “centuries”. Surely he didn’t look that young…or did he? He poked at his nose in befuddlement.

“Alright then, Doctor. I believe you,” she said. “Well, apart for the bit about actually getting it to work.”

“Want me to prove it to you?” he asked, extending a hand. “I never did get to show you the stars. Now’s as good a time as any!”

Liz glanced back towards the mess that had been her experiment, frowning, thinking. A smile lit her face as she turned back to the Doctor. “Oh, alright, then.” she grinned, grabbing his hand. “One little trip.”

She dragged him out into the rain, pausing only a moment to lock the door behind her. “Just don’t make me hold any test tubes for you!” she exclaimed, pulling him into the TARDIS.

He smiled as she wandered about the redecorated console room, examining the TARDIS controls. He rushed over to join her. “Come along, then, Elizabeth Shaw!” he exclaimed, spinning about from lever to lever. “It’s time to meet the universe!”

Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart opened his eyes. A green, brightly lit garden greeted him, glowing with life. But something about it felt wrong, unnatural. There was something he was missing. Something he almost didn’t want to see.

Flashes of memory flew by, but nothing concrete. A room, sterile and white, with a red plus on one wall. Kate, his daughter, tears pouring down her face. Discomfort and pain, blacking out his senses. Without context, he could only guess at their meaning, but the conclusions he was finding didn’t bode well. No, he thought, best not to think about it.

“Hello again!” declared a woman standing by a fountain. “You made it!”

She was dressed like Mary Poppins, but there was a mad glint in her eye. Something about that glint was familiar, somehow. He’d met her before, he knew, but he couldn’t quite place where or when.

The Brig sat silent and still for a moment, processing the strangeness of his situation. “Made it where, exactly?” he asked, glancing around.

“Where do you think you are?”, the woman, Missy, laughed. “Look around you. You made it. The promised land. Paradise. Welcome to heaven.”

He groaned. Whenever this sort of thing happened, there was usually a unifying factor. “The Doctor’s involved in this somehow, isn’t he?” he asked.

Martha rapped on the door cautiously, unsure of what to expect. The building was run-down and rickety, and she half expected to find an ax murderer on the other side. Some UNIT adviser, they said, she thought. They’d better not be having me on.

A few moments passed, with nothing whatsoever happening. Martha rolled her eyes, turning to leave, when the door creaked open. Glancing about, she stepped inside. It shut itself behind her.

The interior was the polar opposite of what she’d seen outside. Gleaming surfaces and chunky computers. A figure sat in the swivel chair, facing away, their features obscured,

"Hello? I’m looking for a, um…" Martha trailed off, glancing down at a little slip of paper. "A Dr. Elizabeth Shaw. Do you know where I could find her?"

The chair spun about, revealing a woman with stern expression and a sparkle in her eye. She smiled, reaching out a hand.

"That would be me," she said. "Sorry for all this cloak-and-dagger nonsense, by the way. These old UNIT bases are a bit overdramatic."

She extended her hand, and gave Martha a firm handshake, motioning towards a chair. Martha sat.

"Hi, I’m Dr. Jones. Colonel Mace sent me over to see you," said Martha. "Said you had some important files on the Nestene Consciousness."

"Ah, at it again, are they?" replied Liz. She shifted aside an oblong metal object, rounded at the end, that was sitting on top of a file on her desk. "This should be the one."

Martha’s gaze didn’t leave the metal object. “Is that…a sonic screwdriver?”

Liz picked it up. “Not quite, though you’re not far off. The Doctor gave it to me. It’s my door handle.”

She pressed an unseen button, and the door behind Martha opened again. After a few moments, she pressed it again, and the door closed.

"Not terribly exciting nowadays, I’m afraid, but I’m quite fond of it."

Martha gasped. “You knew the Doctor?”

Liz chuckled. “Oh, ages and ages ago. It was enjoyable while it lasted, but I had my own life to live.”

Martha smiled. “I did, too. Left him, that is. We traveled for a while, but I knew I had to get out.”

A loud explosion sounded outside, interrupting the conversation. Car alarms blared out from the street, articulating the calamity.

Martha leaped from her seat. “Right, I’d better get that file to the Colonel.”

"I suppose you’d better had," said Liz, handing Martha the file and opening the door. "Do visit again sometime, Dr. Jones. I’d love to hear more."

"Call me Martha," she replied, pausing in the doorway.

Jo felt like she’d barely seen the Doctor all day, only hearing him shout from inside his machine about how he was very occupied, so would it trouble her to get this tool or that metal and bring it to him?  He stayed at the TARDIS console the whole time, trying to figure out why every time he dematerialized, he always ended up back at UNIT.  Apparently, it was very difficult and time consuming work, and while Jo didn’t pretend to understand it, she did know she made very good company, and intended to help the Doctor along in that way.

As seven o’clock came and went she felt herself wearing out.  He’d been at this all day, and simply dealing with the Doctor’s petulance could be an all consuming and quite tiring task, not to mention how much fetching he was making her do.

"Are you tired, Doctor?" Jo called, and the Doctor’s good-natured voice came back to her from the TARDIS.

"I don’t get tired."

"Well, you must be at least a little bit sleepy," she replied.  "You’ve been at this all day.  Aren’t you ready for a break?"

"This is very important work, Jo," he insisted.  "Time lords are different than humans.  We don’t tire out as easily."

She sat down in a chair near one of the lab tables and rested her elbow on the table, leaning her head on her hand.

"You’re going to run yourself into the ground you work this hard tomorrow," she said.  "Take a break.  Enjoy yourself!  Is it really the end of the world if you don’t solve this tonight?"

No response came from the TARDIS, and she assumed he was so caught up in his task he didn’t hear her.  After a moment she announced, “I’m going to make us some tea,” figuring that if she had to stay awake, she might as well have some help.  For the next few minutes she busied herself boiling water and hunting down teabags.  Finally, when everything was done and she had two mugs of piping hot tea, she carried the drinks back into the lab.

"Doctor, you better drink this now or it’ll get cold," she said, and again no response came from the TARDIS.  Insistent on making sure he didn’t work himself past what he could handle, she walked into the TARDIS and saw him leaning against the console, eyes closed.  It took her a moment to realize he was asleep.

She chuckled to herself and said, “Doctor!”  This got him awake.  He opened his eyes, looking very disoriented, and said, “what is it, Jo?  Can’t you see I’m very busy?”

"Very busy sleeping," she said with a laughing smile.

"I was not asleep," he said indignantly.  "I was just… resting my eyes for a moment."

I came across a Three-era Doctor Who ficlet I wrote for an LJ friend years back. I wrote it on a whim in response to a comment that went (I think) something along the lines of: 'what if the Master secretly loves cats and has made a special second setting for his TCE that's just 'cat toy'.

It actually holds up decently well after all this time, and I haven't posted it anywhere else, so...have a thing: