Doctor Who and The Marriage of the Daleks: A Target Novelization

Originally Published As "Doctor Who and The Very Silly Regeneration"

In the sky above London, a fiery box fell. The citizens of London were well familiar with the blue box, over the years, whether they knew it or not, really, because even though there technically weren't many anymore, they all tended to see a police box around the corner at even the strangest of times, and well, the following morning, they'd think it was gone, and they were bloody bonkers. But they weren't. That was the lady inside the box's job. The Angel of Mercy, known as the Doctor.

The Doctor is currently dying in agony, screaming the word "BOLLOCKS." 

You know how it is. 

Before Long, there was a collision, and surprisingly, the world was not destroyed. The Blue Box bounced along the ground like a punted rubber balloon, and eventually it came to a halt, upside down on the pavement. It was a disheveled, yet oddly pretty thing, all things considered, because even though the paint was peeling in certain places - it was old, let's be fair - it had an air of peace about it. 

The Blue Box is called the TARDIS, and there's an old woman climbing out of it, with a shock of white hair sticking up into the sky. Her skin is blistered, and slightly covered in dust and electrical burns. 

She's gotten out now - dusting herself off, really feeling rather odd. And she looks at her hands and she realizes that they aren't the same hands of the ambiguous old face that died a few moments ago. Death is a thing that happens to people, but the old woman is used to it by now - but it's rather inconvenient though, all things considered. She reaches into her pocket, and takes out a cracked hand mirror after ruffling through it for a minute and a half, and raises it upward. 

"Ah. I look like Judi Dench," She muses. And she's quite right - she looks like a Judi Dench with the fricked up hair of Frankenstein's Monster's Bride. "That's weird. That's really weird." Doubly weird was her voice - it did not sound like Judi Dench, but rather a very shitty attempt at a British accent. What an odd day... 

A Man walking down the street - his name is Peter Evans, business man, 32, and he makes a perturbed glance at her. Because he's feeling perturbed. Life is difficult enough without a madwoman in burnt gothic stylings jumping up and down on the pavement, muttering about how the legs are the wrong length. "You all right?" He asks, and she turns and RUNS at him, until she’s all up in his face.  She grasps him by the shoulders. "Is it just me or do I look like Judi Dench? I think I look like Judi Dench. What do you think? Come on, Tell Me. Tell Me If I Look Like Judi Dench, Tell Me Right Now. Do I? I LOVE Judi Dench, so you gotta tell me. Come on."  She shakes him a bit.

"Who's Judi Dench?" He blubbers awkwardly, a bit terrified of the woman now on the street corner. 

And she climbs back into the TARDIS - and there's a flash, a whirring shaking noise, and no sooner is the blue box gone than she's back out again.

"So, evidently, I am Judi Dench," She says to him. "I did her entire acting career. It took ages. The woman is ludicrously prolific, and my immense respect for her has gone up in tenfold, as well as my potential concern that I've erased a really lovely woman's achievements. Also, um, I'm really high. On like, the regeneration juice, I think. Tastes like Caramel." She has no need to, but she continues to shake his shoulders, like he's some kind of soda bottle. "I've had so many adventures already! It's been three seconds, you know, and well, you could fit like, three Big Finish boxsets, like, right there. Right there alone. I bet there are retcons too. Hidden companions that will become relevant later! Adventures to be told at a later date, or maybe never. It's like Season 6b! Wow. Am I meta now? Is this regeneration, like, really meta?" 

"I'm - I'm sorry, Miss Dench, but what are you talking about?"

"Oh! Oh no! That's not right! I'm not Miss Dench! For One, I'm a Dame. And for two, I am that eccentric traveler through all of time and space known only as The Motherfucking Doctor. OH MY GOD. I can swear. I'm free. Um, actually, Let's... actually just go with just the Doctor. God. I can be embarrassing to even myself sometimes. I talk a lot, have you noticed?" 

"Indeed I have," He mumbles, but The Doctor has already changed her mind about something already, and is clambering back into the TARDIS like a mad chimpanzee. "Just realized, um, I'm going to get really annoyed if everyone recognizes me as Dame Judi Dench. So - I'm going to fix that." 

And she climbs back into the TARDIS - and there's a flash, a whirring shaking noise, and no sooner is the blue box gone than she's back out again, but this time, she's carrying a smoking shotgun and covered in blood, and giggling a little. 

"Dame Judi Dench no longer exists!" She concludes. 

And Peter Evans runs away screaming.

* * *

The most important part of the regeneration story is when the Doctor chooses the new outfit. It's an unspoken rule - the outfit is important. 

The Shopping Mall is on fire. People are running away screaming, and the Doctor is having some raspberry ice at the food court. She's bought a new cardigan, a nice leather number, a little black dress, and some nice long swishy coats with loads of pockets. It's not important how the fire started. Let's not get into that. 

A man in a bowler hat appears out of thin air, eventually. His name is Rasmucaradoliustrelundar, but he goes by Rasmucaradoliustrelundar. "Doctor," he says sternly, with a wise british inflection and a subtle raise of an eyebrow of disapproval. "You have been naughty lately." 

"Maybe. I don't know. Pass the fries." 

With a distasteful scowl of smug superiority, he does so. He does not eat any, but the Doctor tries to fit as many of them in her mouth as she can so it looks like she has around fifty walrus teeth hanging out. "Well," She begins, in between bites, so it more sounds like, 'welf,' "Why are you here, Rasmucara?" 

"The High Council of Time Lords has sent me here as a matter of peer review." 

"Oh." The Doctor murmurs. 

"According to our recent Matrix scans, last we talked you were on the run from a Maroth Time Scuttler, an encounter which ultimately ended in, well, your latest regeneration." 

"New and Improved." The Doctor mock bowed slightly, still with french-fry face. 

"Yes, well, since then, you have committed a record of eighty three different time violations. We would have gotten to you sooner, but well, quite frankly, we've never seen any level of sheer temporal irresponsibility such as this in modern history. Well. At least since Mortimus' Stag Do." He added with a dismayed sigh at the memory. 

"Mm, yeah?" 

"Did you, or did you not," Rasmucaradoliustrelundar began, "Do the entirety of Dame Judi Dench's acting career, in a bootstrap paradox in of itself, and then get sad and stop Dame Judi Dench's entire acting career by shooting your past self in the head?" 

The Doctor stopped for a moment to consider this.
“I can go back in time and shoot the past self in the head that shot my past self in the head.” She concluded. 

“HOLY SHIT DOCTOR NO THAT’S ESCALATING THE PROBLEM,” Rasmucaradoliustrelundar sighed, wrenching his head in his hands. "Doing something like that could cause the same story to happen twice in different ways for no discernible reason."

The Doctor loudly sipped her smoothie. 

"Also," Rasmucaradoliustrelundar continued, quite frankly already exhausted, "For the record of the Council, since when have you been predisposed to shooting things?" 

The Doctor considered. "Maybe when I made Skyfall? You seen it? I really like Skyfall."

Rasmucaradoliustrelundar had to concede that it was indeed, a good film, but he would need her time lord identification card, to impound her TARDIS, and for her to apologize personally to the Grand Hegemony of the Maroth Scuttlers, and also the actress Judi Dench's personal family.

Also imprisonment for life would be nice, but the Time Lords, being, and I quote, bad bitches, would settle for murder too if that didn't work.

The Doctor scowled. "The Maroth are lame these days. There's no way I'm apologizing to them. Besides, they already killed me, what more could they want?" 

Rasmucaradoliustrelundar rose to his full height, and he was an imposing figure, despite being skinny as hell. His eyebrow twitched, but the stoicism remained. "Then I am sorry, Doctor. But we must, as Time Lords, avoid diplomatic incident. You understand, don't you?" The room was filled with orange light as a strange tree-like alien in a time lord robe dematerialized with a pair of handcuffs. 

The Doctor, despite herself, smiled. It was the new her's first alien invasion. 

The more things change, the more they stay the same. 

* * * 

Kate Stewart, head scientific officer, UNIT, is bored. This could be for numerous reasons. Lack of aliens. Lack of strange forms of anomalae. Lack of any decent supporting characters in UNIT minus her and Osgood. Boredom's a difficult thing to explain, really. You can't really quantify boredom, other than lack of things happening. As such, it sort of suffers when it comes to a literary device. Have you ever tried to describe what isn't happening? One can state empirically the affects of an alien invasion by those big long legged buggers from War of the Worlds, visualize the piercing and powerful noise of an Auton's hand bursting through the glass of a department store in London Town and describe with detail the flying rubble, broken buildings and screaming innocents when Godzilla decides to take up breakdancing. But nothing? Why, that's much more difficult to describe. The earth is NOT currently under invasion by those big long legged buggers from War of the Worlds, The Plastic Mannequins in that shop corner over there are not killing people and Godzilla breakdancing. See? That's rubbish description. 

And so, for these sorts of reasons, we don't tend to stay focused on the bored characters for long. Something happens. It would be a waste of time if nothing happened. So we always cut into these characters just when something is just going to about to happen. But Kate's not been busy recently, and so it may take a bit long. Sorry about that. We're doing our best here. 

"Kate! Kate!!" A woman ran in, and her name was Osgood. She was a scientist, but perhaps a better term would be Boffin. Eccentric, to say the least, thick glasses were perched on her nose, and a long scarf trailed behind her labcoat - in what was almost definitely against lab etiquette, you couldn't have anything that might easily set on fire, but well, the scarf was nice looking. Osgood was screaming, incidentally, as she was running in, stumbling over her long scarf and nearly cracking her head open for a second before re-asserting herself and standing up - well, somewhat straight. A respectably manic woman that Kate had come to trust with her life. "You aren't going to believe this." She said, eventually, huffing out of breath, and reaching for her inhaler. 

"Tell me everything," Kate said, trying to remain stoic and impassive. 

"So, we've been monitoring the lightspeed lanes," Osgood began - the lightspeed lanes were something Kate was quite familiar with. Most alien species travelled with some form of rocket, warp or slipstream drives to break the lightspeed barrier. But you couldn't just break the lightspeed barrier willy nilly or you'd fly straight into a star or asteroid belt. So the speed lanes were a basic concept - there were around thirty ways to get to earth from a hyperspace lane without crashing into anything, and no more. Osgood had identified all of them. But what Osgood was saying was that something was very wrong. There was now a thirty-first. 

"Is that - is that even possible?" 

"I mean, theoretically, you could clear up a possible hyperspace lane by disintegrating every atom of an obstacle - a nearby asteroid system, sun or planet in the way. But no one does that. Most species we've ever encountered just don't have that power." Osgood was jittering. Kate was beginning to worry about how much coffee she was on. "Don't you see, Kate? This is big - a prelude to invasion. Something only that a species like the Daleks or Sontarans would be capable of." 

Kate nodded. "Yes. Or something we aren't aware of. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. We need to mobilize everything we have on this." Kate returned to her boring laptop, but Osgood tapped her on the shoulder. "I'm not done. The Doctor has regenerated."

* * *

"I have gone through a redemption arc," The Doctor declared, to anyone who might be listening, as she was put into the Time Lord prison cell for Time Lords. "I am a reserved and practical figure now. I like being normal and doing normal things like not killing people. Please let me out." 

"No." said the Time Lord that was guarding the cell. His name was Sarconacarialrevolisoroncovalianarionius. He was a sedentary chap. Didn't really care for the whole renegade sort of thing. 

"Come on! I need a companion! Don't you want to become a rebel time lord, and travel the universe righting wrongs and destroying the evils of capitalism??" 

"No," said Sarconacarialrevolisoroncovalianarionius, once more. One really didn't enjoy having to guard the cells of dissidents like the Doctor, much less converse with them. He much preferred keeping to himself. Was just his luck he got this job, really. 

"I think I want you to be my companion," The Doctor said, haphazardly leaning against the wall, trying to look cool and radical. "You'd enjoy it!" She insisted. "We'd have all sorts of cool adventures and you would be hip and cool with the kids, bro dude." 

"Shut up."

"Sorry! I - well, I didn't mean to offend." The Doctor said, smoothly. 

She began to consider her options. For one, escaping this cell would be incredibly difficult, considering the Time Lords are the most powerful race in existence. Doubly so, since she didn't have a companion to sprout her technobabble towards. That was always such a nice thing, sprouting technobabble to a helpful idiot who would reply "what's that, doctor?" It was always nice to have a helpful idiot. She wondered where she could find one. 

* * *

Danny didn't expect himself to be Danny Devito that day. Danny was usually some one else. That was rather, the usual way existence worked. You just weren't Danny Devito. Only Danny Devito was Danny Devito. But Danny - who incidentally, could not remember his name prior to him being Danny Devito, woke up this morning with a balding head and being incredibly short. 

Danny walked down the street. He was feeling rather content with the universe, all things considered. The universe could sometimes be an asshole, but today it was not, and this was good. Ignoring the fact that he was suddenly a different person, well, today was nice. Knowing his luck, well, the nice probably wouldn't last long, but Danny was exactly the kind of helpful idiot who preferred to place his faith in blind optimism. Perhaps you can tell where this is going.

You'd be wrong though, because he's not a companion yet, he's going to go get Pizza. Pizza is probably Danny's favorite food, especially since he's a generic bastard, and so he was even happier than usual. He waved hi to the people on the crosswalks of London. Most people reacted exactly as people in London would to a random stranger skipping down the sidewalk and happily dancing and greeting them hello. But that didn't matter. No one was going to spoil his mood. Danny was going to get Pizza.

Danny does not notice a lot of things in his day to day life, he likes to think that he has a very simple one, actually. Go to work, watch movies, and not pay attention to the news, and all those alien invasions, because they really can make a fellow nervous. Anything Danny doesn’t like, he doesn’t pay attention too. Except for oddly, the other day, he found a manacle on his leg that didn’t belong there. It was really strange, and he didn’t like that, but he did notice it enough to chuck it in a bin. Danny thought on this for a brief moment, before, well, disregarding it, and walking on into the Pizza Shop door.

Fun Fact: The Pizza Shop is usually not inhabited by Danny's ex-wife, Gladys. It's not Danny Devito's Ex, that'd be Rhea Perlman. Danny - before he was Danny, had an Ex named Gladys. She was the worst. She had an affair. 

Fun Fact: The Pizza Shop is not usually RUN by Danny's ex-wife, Gladys who had an affair. She does not usually give people Pizza. She moved out of London a year ago, and he's not seen her since. The breakup was difficult. They couldn't see each other again. That's just how it works - they both didn't want to be awful to eachother, because they each knew the other was rather nice, just not currently to them, because they're exes. So, Gladys moved away. It was sad, but what could you do, when things don't work out? Because sometimes, well, even if you're an optimist, they don't. 

Fun Fact: Gladys, Danny's Ex-Wife, is not usually a Dalek. 

Indeed, there was a squat metal container behind the counter, handing those in line pizza boxes balanced on it's plunger. It's whisk was making some kind of cheese sauce in a pan lying on the counter, whisking it around like you do. Making home-made pizza. As one does. It's singular eye was glowing blue with an impassive apathy towards all in the room. 

"THAT WILL BE THREE POUND FIFTY," Gladys grates, shrill and electronic, because she's a fucking Dalek, and the man in line smiles and nods, and hands her the money, and leaves with his box of happy home-made pizza. 

Danny doesn't know what to say. Because well, you wouldn't know what to say if your ex-wife was a Dalek. That would be inconvenient, and one isn't really prepared for the shock of that. The human mind doesn't like to think about things too strange and horrible to contemplate. 

The empty Dalek eye scrolled towards Danny, who was now the next in line. And against himself, he didn't leave and run from his Ex-Wife Dalek, he just stood there, because well, him reacting to this would have to involve him understanding what it was he was experiencing. So he could react, if he knew what was going on. But he most decisively didn't. 

"DANNY?? DANNY, PLEASE. I THOUGHT WE PROMISED NOT TO MEET AGAIN. THIS IS TOO HARD, DANNY. HOW DARE YOU COME BACK? YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T COME BACK," The Dalek said, loud, yelling with no emotive quality whatsoever. 

"I -" Danny stuttered. No word is enough to describe the sheer confusion.

"YOU HAVE TO LEAVE, DANNY. BEFORE THE KIDS SEE YOU," The Dalek....Gladys (?) says, the Dalek voice even sounding rather snuffle-y in it's grating monotone. 

Danny doesn't remember having kids with Gladys the Dalek, but the horror of the scenario does not allow him to remember this fact. I mean, he must have. Gladys wouldn't say it otherwise. And so he runs out of the Pizza Shop, and Gladys the Dalek begins crying into the dough that she's preparing for tonight's homemade Pizza. 

* * *

The Doctor was going over the list of helpful idiots in her phone. She decided against Mel, as Mel had too much depth in the EU material, and crossed off Susan because for some reason some people like Susan. Ben and Polly were right out, and the Chibnall companions were too controversial. Ignoring basically everyone left the Doctor with only one possibility. Dodo Chaplet. 

Dodo, being an unpopular character, was the perfect figure to flanderize and mold into a completely different and completely distinct figure that had absolutely nothing in common with her television counterpart. The plan was genius! Dodo! The ultimate companion - perfect for answering lines with a 'ooh, what does that mean, Doctor?' and having no depth beyond that, since she was never really meant to! The Doctor stopped for a moment to literally give herself a round of applause. She was so smart. Now where could she find Dodo? 

* * *

Unfortunately, according to the Virgin New Adventures "Everything has to be edgy" policy, Dodo is fucking dead. 

Luckily, there is a solution. The Faceless and Many Tentacled Abominations of The Order of Canon Welding, and their hundreds of cloaked worshippers, kidnapped a twelve year old off of the streets, placed them in a pentagram with many candles, and covered them in pig's blood, before slitting their throat and chanting the words "Praise the holy retcon! Praise the holy retcon!" Until Dodo Chaplet's ghost arose from the depths of hell and possessed the form of the headless child, melding into a new and horrid form. 

"ANCIENT SINS ANCIENT SINS ANCIENT SINS ANCIENT SINS" Screamed Dodo Chaplet, although she no longer had a mouth to scream with. 

And continuity was appeased, the Order said, before unleashing Dodo Chaplet onto the streets, where she ran off into the sunset. 

Rumors now exist that in the Countryside there exists a large tentacled monstrosity that eats small villages. 

* * *

The Doctor was so enthralled by her new plan that she was getting rather hyper. 

Sarconacarialrevolisoroncovalianarionius remained in front of the cell door. 

The Doctor decided to approach the problem with logic. 

"Please let me out."

"No." replied Sarconacarialrevolisoroncovalianarionius with a bitter scowl. 

"Do I have permission to disregard that statement?"

 Sarconacarialrevolisoroncovalianarionius turned with a confused expression. "How would disregarding the fact that you aren't being let out be useful to you? Surely, even if you disregard the fact that you are in a cell, you remain in the cell. Logic applies." 

"Ah, but do I have permission to disregard that statement about that too, so logic doesn't apply?" The Doctor said. She was on a roll. 

"Absolutely not. For one, that doesn't work. For another, why is my permission important to the theory in this bizarre world that you live in, that if you decide you're not in the cell, you're not in the cell? The laws of physics are not controlled by you, nor are they by me. The refusal to believe in logic does not remove the fact that logic exists." 

"Mm, do I have permission to disregard that statement too? Also it's opposite day." 

"What? No it's not!"

"Yes, I know it's opposite day, you big oaf! Let me out!" 

"Am I to imply that on opposite day, in your, well, frankly, deranged perspective, that no means yes?"

"...No." The Doctor replied wittily. 

"Well, if that is so, then you do have permission to exit the cell, and by do, I mean you cannot, nor can you exit the cell even if you had permission, for neither of us holds control over the cell door in any capacity. This entire conversation is patently ridiculous, and I am unsure as to why I am engaging in it."

"Do I have permission to disregard that statement but it's the opposite of the opposite day?" The Doctor asked, her snarky and hyper tone increasing all the more. 

"Fuck you. I don't care anymore. Fucking leave. Get out. Get away from me, I hate you." Sarconacarialrevolisoroncovalianarionius shrieked, before realizing that they couldn't even unlock the door, they were just the guard, and the controls were elsewhere on the ship that he did not know of. He then screamed. 

"So, do I have permission?" 

"I mean, whatever." Sarconacarialrevolisoroncovalianarionius sighed. Not that it mattered. He was doomed to eternally stand guard over the witch anyway.

And with that, inexplicably, The Doctor disappeared from the cell and reappeared outside it, two feet to the right. She smiled gently, before strolling off in the opposite direction.

 Sarconacarialrevolisoroncovalianarionius sighed. This was the worst day ever.

* * *

As this is a novelization, and novelizations are to give depth to side characters that ultimately do not matter much to the central thrust of the narrative, you may be interested in knowing what became of Sarconacarialrevolisoroncovalianarionius. It's not nice. He was court martialed for treason, because apparently, the Doctor had unlocked the Vampire DLC and could enter and exit households if invited to do so, and you really should have been aware of this really, it's basic common sense and logic that any sane person would immediately jump to. Sarconacarialrevolisoroncovalianarionius swore at the judge repeatedly, before pleading guilty, under the logic that "you'd have fucking done it if you were there," that "that woman was satan, I know satan is real now, I am certain of it. Hell is real and all the devils walk this earth, we are all going to die and burn in hell and she is there" and "I'm going to literally go insane if I even so much and think about that malevolent knighted actress again holy fucking shit aaAAAHHH." Before being sentenced to prison, where he turned to Illegal Drugs to deal with his fracturing mind, that indeed, would never recover for as long as he lived. 

* * *

The Doctor explored the ship. She enjoyed exploring ships, altogether that was something that she indeed did do rather frequently, but that didn't change the fact that she enjoyed it. There was something about her basic life that left her rather comfortable indeed - this "something," her ordinary adventures of running down corridors, and investigating wicked alien plots, well, this was her comfort zone. The following room contained the exact opposite of her comfort zone.

Rasmucaradoliustrelundar. 

"Oh. You." 

"Ah. Doctor," he said in his clipped, precise British accent. In his white and black CIA robe he looked, to say the least, rather proper. The Doctor had always wondered what made Time Lords so British in sensibility. She had noticed that the TARDIS' psychic translator often defaulted all voices into a British accent out of convenience, but that didn't pertain to sensibility, because for as long as she had known, the Time Lords had always been, well, to say the least, stiff upper lip and all that. "I had hoped you would not interfere."

"Interfering's one of my favorite things. Up there with Firebombing and Breakdancing, and breakdancing while firebombing." The Doctor said. "Why are you here, Rasmucara?" 

"This is my ship."

"No. The Time Lords. I assumed that the Time Lords were all destroyed."

"The Time Lords are at the height of their power," Rasmucaradoliustrelundar said stolidly. 

"No! No, they aren't, talk sense to me." The Doctor snapped. 

"...We did experience a temporal systems failure before arriving here, and detecting your sordid activities."

"Wonderful. So you fell out of the time vortex. Past the Time wall sealing the time war away and now the timeship's out of juice and you can't get back in. And you're not where you should be in time? Huh, how many times can I say time in a sentence? Time, time time time time! So, And now you want to kill me, Isn't that nice?" The Doctor rolled her eyes. Rasmucaradoliustrelundar had always been one of the more singleminded of the Time Lords. Always the unyielding figure, unwilling to consider anything outside the usual purview of Time Lord thinking. 

 But before this ever so tediously dramatic conversation continued, there was the small matter of the ship shaking. Sparks flew from the electrical stations - even advanced Time Lord ships like this could have some design faults. Especially considering this was clearly one of the lesser advanced Time Lord ships - why would they have used a ship like this...it was a type thirty-nine! Even her own TARDIS was more advanced!

"Enemy ships -" Rasmucara whispered with horror. "We can't even escape them here..." 

"What enemy?" 

"The only enemy of the Time Lords that matters!" Rasmucara hissed. "The Daleks!" 

The Doctor was initially feeling rather brusque about the refusal to mention a few out of print Faction Paradox novels - but then The Doctor saw for the first time the TARDIS viewscreen. It was small, and awful, but now she knew why the ship was so unadvanced - because during the Time War, every TARDIS was in service, no matter the quality. And this ship had fallen out of the Time War, so it made sense who she saw on the viewscreen. Something else that had fallen out - An Interdictor Class Dalek Time Saucer. It fired on them, again, and again, and again, and the Doctor felt a frog in her throat.

And then, as ships do, the ship proceeded to explode. 

Part Two 

Danny was walking home from the Pizza Shop, very, very perturbed. Something strange was going on, something very strange indeed. He had suddenly realized this, that to tell the truth, his afternoon was positively bonkers. This was not a conclusion that someone comes to easily. 

He had broken up with Gladys a long time ago now, but for some reason, the wound was a sharp one, and his chest itched somewhat. He took a moment to regard the fact that it was Danny Devito's chest, and he could probably get a nice job as a Danny Devito imitator. Since he was Danny Devito. This was an odd thing, well, to consider. On the other hand, no one had recognized him as Danny Devito, which made this whole thing rather strange. He wondered if he had gone mad. This was a sensible conclusion, he decided, but it also would rather invalidate the fact that he was going mad if he was aware of being mad. 

He walked up to a man on the street and jumped up and down, screaming, "AAAH! I'M AN INSANE PERSON! OOGA BOOGA OOGA BOOGA," but that didn't work, he still felt sane, all things considered, so he burped out a meek "apologies," in what he realized was now also Danny Devito's New York accent before rushing off. 

This man was Peter Evans, the same man shook up and down by the Doctor earlier, who is beginning to wonder if the universe is out to get him. It probably is. 

 * * *

Danny's return to his apartment - a nice apartment, if a cheap one, had him feeling rather dejected. It was ground floor, which you'd think was a bargain if not due to the fact that it was right by a train station. Anyway, Danny didn't like not knowing what was going on. He had a very simple perspective, really, if he was told that what was going on was "magic," or it was "science you could never possibly understand," or "you're tripping out right now wake up danny wake up god speak to me danny, danny, the car crash was two years ago danny you have to let go" he could probably accept that. He just didn't like not knowing what kind of bullshit was going on. You know, the basic stuff. Magic, Sci-Fi, bad trip, he'd like to know which. 

He assumed it was aliens, the Daleks, but also, I mean, you can't really go to the police about the Daleks, you'll be laughed in the face. And that didn't narrow out that it was magic Daleks. Or he was tripping out and thought a trash can was a Dalek. 

He didn't really use drugs, but like, you'd be suspecting you were tripping too if you were Danny Devito the whole afternoon and your ex wife is a Dalek. 

He walked, and eventually he was there. He didn't usually walk. He usually had a car like everyone else, but he felt tired and strange, and like his life was unraveling, so he was walking through London, grey London, where every building is older than you and your parents combined. He felt small this afternoon in the white marble that usually comforted him with it's admirably beautiful uniformity. Actually no, he didn't feel small. 

He was just shorter.

On the walkway in front of his home there was a smoking fire of brimstone, a column of burning intensity, surrounding a blue police box that was sticking out of the dirt once more. 

Danny, sort of stood there for a bit, waiting for his emotions to load in. Eventually he squeezed out a sort of apathetic "what" which probably wasn't much in the grand scheme of things, but well, all things considering - 

The Doctor was climbing out of the blue box. She looked even more shit than usual, utterly covered in soot. "HEY!! DANNY DEVITO!!" She cheered. "I used my sonic screwdriver to activate a hyper reaction field in the nearby atmosphere for the TARDIS to home in on, just as the spaceship was destroyed! I can just - summon my TARDIS! Whenever I like! With the sonic screwdriver! Not making that up, no, I can summon the TARDIS with my sonic screwdriver at any time literally in canon and wow your face looks really confused why is your face confused Danny Devito, ," 

"I'm sorry, who are you and what the bloody hell are you saying??" Danny said, trying his best to be polite to the deranged woman who had ruined the doorstep to his ground floor apartment with a giant blue box. 

"Hmm? Yeah, I dunno." The Doctor said, eventually. She paused for a moment, and they looked at eachother a bit longer. "DANNY DEVITO!" She eventually exclaimed. 

"Look, I'm not Danny Devito." Danny said. 

"What? Who are you then?" 

"I - um, well, I'm not precisely sure." He admitted, rather embarrassed. Wait, why was he on the defense here? "Hey!" He yelled, recuperating. "You've thrown a police box that's on fire into my apartment!" 

 "No, that was the Daleks, keep up." She replied, not missing a beat. "My name's the Doctor. Did I not mention that? I have nothing to do with Dame Judi Dench."

"Well, I'm Danny. and I have nothing to do with Danny Devito." 

"Isn't that ironic?!" The Doctor laughed. "Okay, we're best friends now." 

"What?"

"Yeah! We're best friends! I just decided! We're going to travel the universe, Danny not Danny Devito! We're going to have three television series' together and sixteen extended universe novels! Forty two Big Finish boxsets! Two issues of Titan Comics before it gets prematurely cancelled due to lack of sales!! Aren't you excited!?" The Doctor rambled. 

And with that, Danny was recruited. It was that simple. 

"Do I have any say in any of that?" He asked. 

"No, I don't think so," The Doctor said, after thinking about it. 

Danny nodded after a while. Alright then. Sometimes Destiny didn't knock on your door, sometimes, he supposed, Destiny broke it down with a fireman axe before kidnapping you at gunpoint. Perhaps he should just enjoy the ride. 

He extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, Doctor," He said, smiling. "Now what was that you said about Daleks?" 

* * * 

Kate Stewart and Osgood were beginning their investigations. You had to be thorough about these things. Stopping alien invasions required, often, either a wacky genderless space alien in a box or a military battalion of UNIT soldiers. They didn't have either at the moment, so they were doing their best to make do. 

"This doesn't make any sense. It says here there are not one, two, but three spaceships directly above London," Osgood admitted.

"Three?" Kate exclaimed sternly, checking Osgood's readings. There were indeed, three. "Can you Identify them?" She asked.

"Two of them appear to be... the Maroth Hegemony's Time Scuttlers."

"The Maroth? Remind me." Kate said. There were so many aliens, and it could be difficult to keep track of all of them. 

"You probably won't believe this." Osgood sighed. 

The Maroth were famed throughout the cosmos of the Galaxy for being, well, let's not say this impolitely, incredibly generic. There was a big controversy about it a few years back, Osgood recalled. The Ice Warriors had gotten proper annoyed over the Maroth being perhaps a little too derivative. Which indeed, was one of the only terms that could describe them. The Maroth had no personality. Not a malevolent one, not a benevolent one for that matter, no. The Maroth had looked at all of the beings in the universe, the things that differentiated all the planets from each other, and decided that they didn't want to bother with any of it, thank you very much. The Maroth were so uninteresting that thousands of species left them alone to do their own thing. Which rather begged the question of what they were doing here - if they had shown an interest in Earth, it could be disastrous. 

Not because of their level of technology or anything like that, but more that if the Maroth did anything out of the ordinary, something was deadly, deadly wrong. The Maroth didn't have opinions. The Maroth literally stood still for all of their lives, because they didn't want to be interesting. For the Maroth, you just stood still. They gave you food and drink with a tube so you wouldn't have to move your arms to eat. It wasn't a hivemind or anything like that. Individuality for the Maroth, having not been tended to for a long time, had just stopped. And so there was literally no reason in all of existence that the Maroth were above London, preparing for Invasion. Because that would make them have a point, wouldn't it? And the Maroth had outlawed things having points in 1993. It was a pain. All their coffee tables were circular. 

After Osgood explained all of this, very slowly and without using too large words, Kate's face wrinkled. "No, seriously, how does that work? How do they afford being still all of the time?"

"They do." Osgood explained. There really wasn't much more to say about it. They weren't very interesting. 

"Okay, so what's the third ship?"

"The Daleks."

"HOLY FUCK OSGOOD YOU COULD HAVE STARTED WITH THAT," Kate screamed. It was a bit out of character, but to be fair, it was the bloody Daleks after all. 

* * *

Thousands of miles above earth, there was a Dalek saucer. It wasn't cloaked, it was more that no one had bothered to look up. Go on, tell me that you look up at the sky all the time during a busy business day in a bustling city. And within the Dalek saucer, activity was also bustling. 

There were currently Four Daleks. Because if there were much more than that, they could be dealt with very easily. Not easily explainable, but that was how it was. 

Dalek Kang, Dalek Si and Dalek Haan jittered at their controls in silence, except from the low thrumming of the Dalek Ship’s Engines. The Dalek Supreme oversaw them from nearby, saying nothing but seeing all with its glowing unblinking eye. The room was dappled in red light, and the Daleks moved their manipulator arms over the controls, adjusting various readings, and preparing for their new malicious plot. “DALEK HAAN, BEGIN ACTIVE EXPERIMENT ON SUBJECT N-THIRTY-ONE.” The Dalek Supreme commanded. 

“BEGINNING TRANSMATERIALIZATION,” Dalek Haan grated, and with that, a human appeared in the center of the bridge. A human male. Caucasian. Irish Descent. The human male buckled about, attempting to be free, but it was held firm by the ingenuity of the Dalek force fields. 

The Dalek ran it’s plunger over the controls, and the human began to scream in agony as it’s facial features began to contort. “APPLYING SUGGESTIBILITY PROTOCOLS,” Dalek Si intoned, and a gas filled the small invisible chamber of force fields that this screaming human was held within. 

Before long, the human’s former origin was completely erased. It now held the face of Jeremy Clarkson, former producer of BBC television program, Top Gear. “EXPERIMENT N-THIRTY ONE SUCCESSFUL.” 

Jeremy Clarkson buckled over and died.

“EXPERIMENT N-THIRTY ONE UNSUCCESSFUL.” Dalek Si corrected itself.

“BUGGER.” The Dalek Supreme noted. It began to note how entertaining this whole sort of events were. How enjoyable it was to be the camp and arch villain, laughing maniacally and eating popcorn at the heroes misfortune. It turned, and began speaking conversationally to Dalek Kang. “YOU EVER THINK ABOUT HOW WE COULD SIT BACK AND EAT POPCORN AND WATCH INFERIOR BEINGS SUFFER AND THEN GET SLIGHTLY SAD WHEN YOU REALIZE THAT OUR SUPERIOR DALEK FORMS ARE INCAPABLE OF INGESTING THE HUMAN SUBSTANCE KNOWN AS POPCORN AND THUS WE MUST THEREFORE SETTLE FOR MERELY THE TOTAL EXTERMINATION OF ALL INFERIOR BEINGS?” 

Dalek Kang’s dome moved in what could be construed as a nod. “THE CLASSIC DALEK TRAIN OF THOUGHT,” Dalek Kang agreed, resuming work at it’s own controls. 

What a life it was to be a Dalek, The Dalek Supreme thought. “DALEK SI, REPORT ON THE DALEK STRATAGEM,” It commanded, harsh and shrill. 

Dalek Si grated out a soliloquy on logistics and likelihood of Extermination success. Music to the Dalek Supreme’s ears. Oops. No, it didn’t have ears. Crap. 

Dalek Haan blurred to life! “ALERT! ALERT! SUPREME DALEK, TWO ENEMY HUMANS HAVE BEEN RECOGNIZED BY DALEK SYSTEMS ANALYSIS! KATE STEWART AND PETRONELLA OSGOOD, KNOWN ENEMIES OF THE DALEKS HAVE BEEN DETECTED!!”

The Dalek Supreme made a electronic noise that perhaps could be recognized as a hmmph of irrelevance. “DO NOT BOTHER. IF WE TRY TO KILL THEM OSGOOD WILL JUST FANGIRL AND IT WILL BE REALLY ANNOYING.” 

“SUBJECT N-ONE HAS ALSO BEEN DETECTED - IN THE COMPANY OF WHAT APPEARS TO BE DAME JUDI DENCH.”

“DAME JUDI DENCH? DID WE EVER MAKE A DAME JUDI DENCH?” Dalek Si asked. 

They thought back, but no, they hadn’t bothered. 

“PERHAPS SUBJECT N-ONE IS CAPABLE OF ASEXUAL REPRODUCTION VIA FISSION,” Dalek Kang suggested, but they all told him to shut up. 

“LOCATE SUBJECT N-ONE, AND THIS UNWITTING ACTOR, AND BRING THEM TO ME!!!” The Dalek Supreme Commanded. “NONE SHALL STOP THE ULTIMATE CONQUEST OF THE DALEKS!!”

* * * 

“So, let me explain the Time War,” The Doctor said to Danny, as they walked down the street. She grabbed a damp newspaper off the sidewalk, and opened it. “Let’s say, this paper is the universe, right?” 

“With the analogy so far,” Danny supposed. 

“So the Time War, takes place across all points in the universe!” The Doctor explained. “Eventually the Time War encompassed everything, every moment that ever was or ever would be, and no matter where you went, you couldn’t escape it. When the Time War ended, and believe me, eventually it did, the rubbish thing, it was essentially sealed off.” And then she began talking very fast. “The Time War exists in a cordoned off alternative reality of never was. Since the Time War took place during all events, it took place during the Blitz. But if I was to go to the Blitz now, I wouldn’t go to the Time War Blitz, I’d go the normal fricking Blitz, because the Time War is behind the Time Wall. But something has broken through that wall - the Daleks! They’re back, and we have to stop them!”

Danny nodded. “What about the paper?”

“Shut up.” The Doctor said, throwing the paper in the trash. Her phone rang. She picked it up. "Osgood!" She smiled. "What are you doing? Desperately trying to stay relevant?"

"Desperately trying to stop an alien invasion," Osgood answered. 

"The Daleks?" The Doctor asked.

"No, we're currently worried about the Maroth."

"The Maroth?" The Doctor hung up. 

* * *

"She hung up on you?!?" Kate said, surprised and exasperated. 

"I know! Something's wrong - something is WRONG with that Doctor we have there." Osgood sighed. "The Doctor would never turn down an alien invasion!"

Kate pursed her lips. She couldn't help but agree. "Something is wrong.”

* * *

The Doctor and Danny had found something else. Something concerning. A dead Meryl Streep. Which is very concerning, obviously, since it’s Meryl Streep after all, and finding a dead Meryl Streep in a London back alley is probably the worst case scenario for humanity in general. 

“I - I can’t begin to process this.” Danny said.

“Nor I,” The Doctor whispered with horror. “Especially since Meryl Streep is off in Australia filming her eighty billionth amazing prestigious drama. She shouldn’t be here….” 

The Doctor examined the body for wounds. It was pristine, and frankly, exact. It really was Meryl Streep, just lying there, her auburn hair on the pavement in the back alley, dead as a door nail, except a doornail hadn’t ever been alive either. It was wrong.

“I know where we need to go,” The Doctor hissed. “The Pizza Parlor.”

“I’m sorry, What?”

* * *

Every Doctor Who Novelization has that one ridiculous bit of canon in it. The Day of the Doctor novelization canonizes the Peter Cushing movies, that the first and second Doctors are colorblind, and that the Eighth Doctor’s regeneration potion was Lemonade and Dry Ice. The Witchfinder’s canonizes that Willa, as well as Clara and Ashildr, are the three fates of Nordic Folklore, and The Rose Novelization has a cheeky cameo from Donna. 

So I feel pretty comfortable inserting this scene. 

Peter Evans is walking down the street, panicking. He’s having a hell of a day, and everything is going slightly tits up for him, as you can probably tell. As he rounds the corner, Torchwood Agents Yvonne Hartman, Ash and Anastasia dose him with a large portion of retcon, and also River Song does a tap dance.

* * * 

"The Daleks are the most dangerous species in all of existence." The Doctor insisted, even though this was probably not accurate. “I need to find out what that one was doing in that Pizza Shop posing as your Ex-Wife.” 

“Running a Pizza Shop, I should think,” Danny observes. 

They peek around the corner to examine the Pizza Shop. It’s an utterly ordinary Pizza Shop with some subtle 1950s decor. There’s a decent amount of people inside. As a matter of fact, it’s so typical, it hurts the Doctor to look at. “Gah!” She yells. 

“What is it?” Danny asks. 

“Perception Filter,” The Doctor hisses. “This isn’t a pizza shop. It’s a laboratory.”

* * * 

Creeping around to the back of the laboratory begins the stealth portion of the mission, which quite frankly, neither of them are amazing at. “I’m starting to piece it all together,” the Doctor begins to speak, and Danny shushes her. She reaches for her Sonic and unlocks the back door, and they begin to creep in. The room, now that they can see it, and they can only sort of see it as it is, out of the corner of their eye, is a Dalek Operation center. As they creep forward, they see the Pizza Shop’s Kitchen. The Doctor blinks out of confusion - and she sees the real thing once more. “This is insidious,” she whispers, careful not to make too large a sound. For as ridiculous as the Doctor is - well, even she knows that a place like this is the epitome of danger. Excitement abounds within the Doctor’s veins, finally doing the whole proper Doctor Who sort of thing. 

“Could you bother explaining?” Danny whispers urgently. He’s scared. He’s really scared, because he remembers it. Just slightly, slightly enough to know he’s been here before. That he was on the kitchen table - no, not the Kitchen table, the operating theatre, having - something - done to him. 

The Doctor gritted her teeth. “The Daleks are Time War Daleks, aren’t they, they’re working on Time Experiments. They’re trying to remake things, retcon history so one thing was another thing. But they aren’t amazing at it, this is early time war stuff, so, well, they’re starting small. With people. Did you see the number written on Meryl Streep’s back?”

“No,” Danny admitted.

“Subject N-Seven.” The Doctor whispered. “They're turning humans into different humans to test time war weaponry, but not one of them has been successful so far. The Time Duplicates of Meryl Streep, and what I can assume are plenty other famous actors, died. People’s individuality erased to make it look like famous actors, all so the Daleks can get better at killing, and time warping. Ultimately so they can change history so people aren’t replaced by people, but inevitably, so they’ll be replaced by Daleks.”

“They’re replacing humanity with Daleks?”

“That’s the end goal. Of course it is, I know them. They wouldn’t be trying to do anything else. Replacing humans with humans is at the moment, useless. Because to the Dalek mind, humans are inferior. But if they can make a successful experiment, they can attempt something bigger. Their problem is only one experiment survived.”

“What?”

“You,” The Doctor said. “The only successful experiment. That’s why they’re after you, using perception filters to get to you. And I took you right to them.”

“How am I the only successful experiment?”

“Well, you woke up with no memory of how a manacle was on your leg, and you look like Danny Devito,” The Doctor snarked.

Danny was sure he hadn’t mentioned the whole manacle thing, but he wasn’t one to complain about plot inconsistency, so he forged on. “I don’t get it … if perception filters are like space illusions, then why…” Danny trailed off.

“You saw through it, Danny! The Daleks were trying to pretend that they were your Ex to lure you back after you escaped from them! But you’re so literal that not only did you see through it and saw them as the Daleks, saw the danger, that you also left when your ex mysteriously arrived in your favorite pizza place and asked for you to go! Anyone else would have been like ‘ooh! Why does my ex have kids now?!’” 

“Oh, well, you could say my … ex terminated!” 

“Yeah, uh, Danny, Chris Chibnall already used that one.”

“AND NOW YOU HAVE WALKED INTO OUR TRAP, SUBJECT N-ONE.” Dalek Haan intoned, as the Transmat activated.

* * *

The Dalek Saucer. As Foreboding as ever, the Doctor thought, as she and Danny appeared on it in a flash of bright light. Of course the Daleks knew when she and Danny entered their secret base and would move to activate their remote Transmaterialization circuit. The Trap was obvious! Too obvious! God, had she not seen it because of the wacky regeneration or was she just really that thick? 

"SUBJECT N-ONE IS CAPTURED! THE DALEK PLAN FOR CONQUEST CAN RESUME!" 

Okay, just a few seconds to think of something to do, the Doctor realized. Before this all goes horribly wrong, you need to do something really, really smart. 

"I'm the Doctor!" The Doctor announced. 

Immediately, a reaction. "IT CANNOT BE!" Dalek Kang yelled. 

"SCANS INDICATE IT IS INDEED THE DOCTOR!!" Panicked Dalek Si. 

"EXTERMINATE THE DOCTOR!" The Dalek Supreme announced. Okay, so that wasn't it. The Doctor could see the Daleks jittering, shaking ever so slightly with rage, the tell-tale sign a millisecond before a Dalek gun was about to go off. 

"Oh, screw this." The Doctor said in disgruntled dismay. 

The jittering stopped. "...IS IT THE DOCTOR?" Dalek Haan asked in confusion. 

"...FASCINATING." The Dalek Supreme decided. "TAKE SUBJECT N-ONE TO THE EXPERIMENTATION CHAMBER FOR IMMEDIATE DISSECTION." It commanded. 

"I OBEY," Rang Out Dalek Si and Dalek Haan, grabbing Danny with their manipulator arms. 

"No, Doctor!" Danny screamed, being dragged off. 

The Doctor stood there stolidly, looking at the Dalek Supreme in the eye with baleful rage. 

"SOMETHING HAS HAPPENED TO YOU, DOCTOR. I WISH TO INTERROGATE YOU... PERSONALLY." The Dalek Supreme said, and the Doctor was struck by how quiet and petrifying the Supreme could be, even though it was, well, more a metaphorical, threatening quiet, then in actual sound, because in truth, like all Daleks, it was loud as hell. 

* * *

The Doctor was alone with the Supreme now - the other Daleks no doubt off to murder Danny and find out what they had done right with their time experiments that time round - and soon they would conquer the history of earth with that information. 

The Supreme was confident, if confused by the Doctor's change in personality. It was curious too - maybe the Doctor could use that to her advantage. 

"I HAVE NO DOUBT THAT BIOLOGICALLY, YOU ARE INDEED, THE DOCTOR." The Supreme stated, staccato and grating as usual, but with a guttural edge. "BUT I AM CURIOUS AS TO WHAT YOU ARE BEYOND THAT."

"Curiosity isn't usually the trait of a Dalek." The Doctor said, trying to remain as close lipped as possible. Stern. 

"VULGARITY IS NOT USUALLY THE TRAIT OF THE DOCTOR. THERE ARE MANY THEORIES IN THE DALEK SCIENTIFIC CORPS AS TO THE PROCESS OF REGENERATION UPON A TIME LORD PSYCHE. HOW CLOSELY RELATED THE PERSONALITIES ARE, AND WHETHER THE REGENERATIONS ARE ONE BEING OR MANY SIMILAR OR DISSIMILAR PEOPLE." 

"I'm the Doctor," The Doctor said with a growl.

"ARE YOU? IF THE DOCTOR IS A NAME THAT YOUR PAST CHOSE AND YOU ARE DISSIMILAR TO IT, ARE YOU INHERENTLY THE DOCTOR? WHAT I AM ATTEMPTING TO DEDUCE IS IF YOU ARE - STILL - THE ENEMY OF THE DALEKS. OR IF YOU HAVE AT LAST, GROWN WISER."

"The Daleks suck balls," The Doctor said. "Everyone's the enemy of the Daleks. Because the Daleks choose that to be the case. With all of your hatred."

"YOU HATE TOO, DOCTOR. SHALL WE SEE HOW MUCH?" 

"I'd prefer to do something else. Maybe Charades? How about some Yahtzee? I hear Monopoly's gotten better in the recent editions." 

The Dalek Supreme pressed a button on the console and out extended a compartment where a Dalek gun lay. 

"PICK UP THE GUN." 

"Sure," The Doctor shrugged. She did so. 

"SHOOT ME." The Dalek Supreme dared. 

The Doctor fired the gun at the Dalek Supreme, which stood there unflinching. 

The Doctor sighed. "...Blanks, I'd assume." 

With this, the Dalek Supreme became quite smug. "YOU ARE NOT THE DOCTOR." 

The Doctor thought about this. "Shit." 

* * * 

The Doctor was thinking. Usually if a story was long, the stopping the Daleks bit was kind of the part the story glossed over, and she usually ended up forgetting how exactly she did it after it happened. It wasn't her fault. Or maybe it was, maybe this new incarnation was that erratic. If this new incarnation was her exactly - no, don't let the bloody Daleks get to you, come on, focus. Resolutions were hard. Both in the Resolution of a problem, and the Resolving part, the want to change. Because the Doctor liked who she was at the moment, and wasn't really sure that she could go through the whole Doctor No More thing again, and sort of wobble around for a bit bitterly yelling at people to just not refer to her because she wasn't the Doctor at the moment. She was old, but she certainly didn't feel curmudgeonly. Perhaps this was just a mid life crisis. No, that was probably the one with the bow-tie and the fez. 

So, it was time for her to resolve, whether to change and do her best to do the whole Doctor thing or go full Valeyard. If, if this actually was the Valeyard. Oh my god, what if it was?

That's the deciding moment, really, right there, because thinking on it, thinking on the Valeyard filled her with dread. Even still. Because she always ended up feeling like he was coming. And she may be a little bit naughty. But she wasn't a Bond Villain who presided over a Court with maniacal laughter. 

The Resolution. 

"No."

She socked the Dalek Supreme in the eye stalk with the gun.

* * *

Danny was about to be dissected by three Daleks with a time scalpel. The thing about the Time Scalpel, is it exists in five hundred different dimensions, and is powered by an entire micro-universe held in the scalpel's handle. Looking at the Time Scalpel was looking into psychedelia itself, madness unrestricted, time cutting time away into millions of tiny pieces of time, and frankly, it made Danny feel a little bit traumatized, all things considered. "Would you care to put that away?" He asked. 

The Daleks moved the scalpel closer to his chest with a mechanical arm they had constructed, hanging out of the ceiling. Dalek's can't really hold things, it's a design flaw. 

Closer, closer... 

Oh, god, was this it?

"Danny, calm down, would you?" 

It was the Doctor, standing by the door to the room in a bewildering costume - some kind greenish grey overcoat with a bright red cravat hung haphazardly over a long gothic black dress with a puffy question mark collar.

From one look, the Daleks began to freak out. "IT IS THE DOCTOR!"

"When did you have time to change?" 

"The most important part of the regeneration story is the new outfit, Danny, keep up. Yeah, I raided another hospital."

"Before rescuing me?" Danny panicked.

"It's a time travel show, Danny, my god, calm down." The Doctor strolled into the room casually, and the Daleks had stopped paying attention to dissecting Danny now, because suddenly, for the first time in the whole day, they were scared. 

"YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!" The Daleks yelled. 

"You had your chance, mate." The Doctor rolled her eyes. "And for seconds, I don't really think so, because, have you noticed? There's a time scalpel in the middle of the room. Sending out a lot of crazy energy stuff that's making the whole ship unstable."

"It's making ME unstable, frankly!!" Danny yelled yet again. 

The Doctor wasn't paying attention, and neither were the Daleks - utterly quaking like they'd never quaked before. "And unstable, well, if you're screwing with the fabric of space and time, well, I hate to think what could happen!" The Doctor laughed, lifting up her sonic screwdriver. "Especially since you can disrupt that with a sonic screwdriver!"

The Daleks shot the Sonic Screwdriver out of her hand. 

The Doctor stood there, petulant like a disappointed parent about to put her kid in time out. "Or this grenade." She chucked it into the center of the room, and the Daleks began screaming like something out of the depths of hell. They fired at her, again and again and again, but the Doctor had years - thousands of years of experience in running. The Doctor hit one of the controls, and a hyperventilating Danny was let out of the operation chair straps. "Run!" She yelled, and to say the very least, they did. 

* * *

The Daleks had thought it was probably a good idea to beam up the TARDIS to the ship so they could have it to experiment on. They didn't anticipate the Doctor decking their Supreme in the eye with the heavy blunt end of a gun, and running off and stealing it, and going off to get a new costume and also a grenade before returning to the ship at the exact same time. Just when you needed it, the TARDIS could sometimes work wonders. "Come on, get in!" The Doctor yelled. 

"There's no way I'm getting into that!" Danny said, with a surprising bit of backbone. "We need to escape this collapsing ship, not explore a random blue box in it!" 

"We have literally ten seconds before the ship blows up, get in," The Doctor said, shoving Danny inside. 

* * *

"Welcome to the TARDIS," She said, placing her teal overcoat on the hat-stand. 

"I - I mean, I saw the Time Scalpel a few minutes ago." Danny said with a spaced out distant glare. "I've seen dimensions where time and space have no meaning, where there's nothing but screaming madness, infernal horrible things that no one should ever see." He shook a bit. 

"Yeah?" The Doctor answered. 

"I don't think a box that's bigger on the inside really warrants much of a reaction."

"Come on! It's - it's the bigger on the inside scene! You've gotta say it. You've gotta." 

"I mean, it's cool!" 

"Say it's bigger on the inside. I could have another grenade in my pocket."

"OKAY OKAY OH MY GOD IT'S BIGGER ON THE INSIDE!!" Yelled Danny. 

"That's better," Smirked the Doctor, and she pulled the Dematerialization lever. 

* * *

That night, there were fireworks.

Up in the night sky, up in the blue twilight of the evening, there was a massive, orange light, exploding, shining into the darkness. A Time Dilated Explosion, the orange and yellow fire flickered out of it slowly, one second at a time, like you were watching a video with too few frames. 

The TARDIS was on the Pavement, and Danny was looking up in wonder. Because that was the point of this, wasn't it, really? The sense of wonder. 

"It's over, you know." The Doctor said, quizzically. "What's your name, Danny? You should be able to remember it now. The Interference is gone, no more Dalek Ex-Wives. You should be able to remember your former life." 

"I'm not sure." Danny said. "Danny, I think."

"Well, that makes things rather convenient." She said with a smile. 

Kate Stewart and Osgood rounded the corner.

"Ah! Kate, Osgood! Lovely to see you! How's the slightly less important than my alien invasion alien invasion going??" The Doctor asked, affable as ever.

"The Maroth disappeared just before you blew up the Dalek ship." Kate said. "I'm still not quite sure why they were there in the first place, Doctor." 

"I'll look into it." The Doctor said. It was only fair.

"As far as I can tell, the Maroth invasion force just... sat there." Osgood finished.

"Well, I don't think that's ever going to come up again. I think it's completely irrelevant, and will never again be mentioned or have any pertinence whatsoever in the coming series." Danny said. 

The Doctor laughed. Golly, he was green. 

"We'll be going, Doctor." Kate said, coldly, walking off. 

Osgood did some sort of awkward bow, and muttered something Japanese before scuttling off after Kate. 

"Well." The Doctor said to Danny, "Shall we go for a walk?"

* * *

The Doctor was bad at speaking normal stuff, Danny realized, as they walked alongside the River Thames. It was late at night now, and the golden explosion from earlier was fading, now only a dim glow in the sky. It reflected across the water of the Thames, much like the lights - the hundreds, thousands of lights of London. 

Danny supposed why the Doctor had invited him for a walk, as he gazed across the water at the lights around him of this strange city he lived in. It could make one feel introspective, if he supposed that in every pair of car headlights, there was another person out there across the water. Possibly more. Of course people carpooled. But it did make him think, really. It made him think about all the people the Doctor and he had just saved. Well. Mostly the Doctor. 

"Danny," The Doctor began, after a long while of quiet walking, "Do you think I'm the Doctor?" 

"That's a stupid question," answered Danny. "It's your name, isn't it?"

Silence. 

"If you mean, as in a Doctor like a healer," Danny supposed. "Then the link is perhaps tenuous, but no less accurate. You did save the city. Saved a lot of people, I should think." 

"I dunno." The Doctor mumbled, and she flicked a pebble into the water, watching it skip along the reflected lights. The ripples flowed outwards, like some kind of strange Mandala. 

"And even so, I should think myself especially healed in particular. I - I don't remember much of my life before this, to be granted, but I do have feelings. Feelings of, well, ineffectualness. I felt... unappreciated." 

He looked at her, and he did remember something. His old Grandmother. How wonderful she had been. The only member of his family he had properly loved, and how she had been so, well, curmudgeonly, and wild. And The Doctor, well, she was so much older than that, and she was so hyper, so ridiculous, bonkers, all the words, and right now, she was rather sad. 

He leaned in and gave her a hug. "At least, I think you're pretty great." 

And the Doctor, well, she supposed that was enough.

They walked back to the TARDIS, and Danny counted the lights as they went so, trying to figure out how many people they had saved that night. 

And well, he was rather happy. Because he was certain it wasn't over yet.