This is Fanfiction based on the world of Doctor Who. The franchise belongs to the BBC and not to me. I do not own any of the characters in this story. I am not selling this to any publisher or agent.
A heeled black shoe stepped onto the pavement. Soon it was met by a matching shoe. The man could not look away as his eyes swept up the lovely shaped legs covered in a pair of sheer tights. A short black skirt followed that. Matching jacket that was done up. The collar of a white blouse peeking out with a gold name pendant accessorising the outfit. Finally, he saw her face. Bright red lipstick accentuating a full pair of lips. Almost matching the red of the car. A shiny chestnut coloured bob framed pale cheeks. He sighed as he leant against his lawnmower. Shame the eyes were covered with a dark pair of sunglasses. It was not even that sunny. What the man admired the most was the shining red car. Never got that in Bannerman road. The woman glanced up to the roof of the house and stared at the ‘For Sale’ sign. Taking her phone out of the pocket she punched in a few keys and held it up to her ear.
“I’m here!” she exclaimed. “Where is the agent?”
“I am sorry, Madam. The agent has been called away. Emergency business.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Yes, Madam … er … Miss … no Ms …”
“Well,” she sighed squaring her shoulders. “I suppose I can peer in the windows at least!”
Abruptly she ended the call and placed the phone back in her pocket. A slight flutter of her heart that she had not felt for a long time happened. The same flutter that always beat when she was travelling with … No, she must not think of that. Of him! That always led to her feeling depressed. Depression had set in quite a lot recently. She had seen the Daleks. She remembered the Master … shuddering she walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. She had no understanding of this gesture but somehow it felt right. After all, this once belonged to a kindred spirit. One she had been tracking down for so long only to find out she had died.
Psychiatrists tried to help her with her problems but could not understand. Alien Invasions did not happen every day and when they did the Government managed to lie to the British populace. How she wished she could strangle their naivety. And how she wished that she could … No! Must. Not. Think. Of. Him! Maybe it was not such a good idea coming here.
Creak … What was that? The door opened. How could the door open with no one here? Never mind, she had seen worse things than that in her time. A few moments later she was standing in the hallway. Nothing more scary than an empty house, she thought. Taking slow and steady steps she saw only scraps of who had lived here before. The living room was well sized. As was the kitchen.
The stairway was neither too long nor too short. Keeping her hand on the banister to steady her nerves as she approached the second set of stairs. The ones that led to the attic. Something inside her told her to skip the bedrooms. Again, as if reading her thoughts, the door opened. Exactly the same feeling entered her chest. She wondered if she would need one of her chill pills.
Trepidation entered into her very being as she climbed those last few stairs and entered the empty attic. Heart leapt into her throat as she decided, probably stupidly, that she should close the door. Still, as he would say, humans! Stop it! she chided herself. Stop thinking of him. No!
Then she turned around. She backed up against the closed door. Throat tightened. Panicking she fumbled behind her for the handle. No, not that. Anything but that! Stupid, stupid girl. You knew something was wrong. Why? No she had to get away. She was hallucinating again. She must be.
“Hello!” a rather chirpy voice sounded out. “Ah! You made it! I am just coming out now. Glad you are here. Just how I planned.”
“Who are you?” she stammered. “I am Dorothy McShane. Who are you?”
The door of the Police box opened. “No you’re not,” the voice said. “You’re Ace!”
“I am Dorothy McShane. Even my oldest friends stopped calling me that!”
A man stepped out. Or he looked like a man. “I mean it. Who are you? And what on earth are you wearing?”
“It’s a bowtie. I wear bowties now.”
“Come on, who are you?”
“You must remember me. I’m the Doctor!”
“No you’re not! The Doctor was shorter, had a slightly Scottish accent, wore a vest covered in question marks, carried an umbrella, wore white and a hat!”
“A fez or a stetson?”
“Neither!”
The man rolled his eyes … then smiled. “Ah, yes. You knew me in my seventh regeneration. I am now in my Eleventh manifestation. Sorry, maybe I should have told you I changed. Now, Ace I need you!”
“My name is Dorothy McShane. Miss McShane to anyone younger than twenty!”
“Oh, Ace, that is so good. You think I am younger than twenty.”
“Dorothy McShane.”
“Oh, but I preferred Ace.”
“No you didn’t, or he didn’t … you … he … always called me Dorothy. Now I agree with you … no … him!”
The man approached her. Instantly she whipped out a device. “One step closer and I shall tazer you where you stand and get you arrested.”
“Okay,” he said. Then he looked at her. “Oh, yuck! I just realised you got all older!” sweeping his gaze he said, “and you got … curvey stuff going on! You never had that!”
“Yes I did. I always have. And what about you? if you are him then you look like you were born from a scarecrow cross-between a geography teacher!”
“Hey! That’s a bit personal!”
“So is saying I got older and got curves. I always have … Okay, I know a way to settle this.”
“Yes?”
Dorothy lost her fear and stepped forwards. “I want to see that sweater!”
“What?”
“That vest you wore. I want to see it!”
“But I …”
“No excuses. You really want me to believe you are the Prof then you find that vest - I know he had a very extensive wardrobe - surely if you are him you still got it somewhere. Oh, come on, it is not like I am asking you to put on the entire outfit.”
“You have changed. You’ve become my mother!”
Sulkily he stepped back in the TARDIS. Somehow she could hear his muttering and it made her laugh. A few moments later he stepped out wearing the sweater, the hat and the umbrella.
“I only asked you to put the blinking vest on?”
“Did I really wear this?”
“Inseparable.”
“It itches!”
“The hat and the umbrella. Oh umbrella! I wished to find one like you!”
“Never thought I’d hear you go ga-ga over an umbrella. And why are you wearing sunglasses?”
“Never mind,” her tone softened. She glanced up. “You are? Really? The Prof!”
“I hated that you know!”
“No you didn’t. Secretly you were pleased. It meant I was impressed with all your knowledge.”
“Look, now I am wearing this darned thing and you have seen the umbrella. You must realise I am the Prof?”
“Okay,” she was choked with emotion. “You are. Only …”
“Yes?”
“Why the bowtie?”
“Ace, it is good to see you again. I have missed you!”
“All right, you knew I was coming. Why are you here?”
“I came to see Sarah-Jane. Has she moved?”
Dorothy removed her glasses. “You … you don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?”
“Sarah-Jane is dead. Died in the line of fire.”
The Doctor stared into her face. Once the situation was fully comprehended he grabbed hold of her. Tears welling in his dark eyes darkening them still. Just as suddenly he let go and stared into her eyes.
“What is that?” he asked quietly.
“Don’t you remember?” she asked. “I have to wear sunglasses. Part of the scars of travelling with you!”
“Travelling … yes, travelling … with … ME! Come on, Ace, lets go!”
“I can’t! I have responsibilities.”
“Yuck. Not only older, curvier … you’ve also got sensibler … is that even a word. Never mind!”
“I run charities, earth needs me. Come on, Prof. As you said I am older. I don’t have the energy for this life anymore.”
“He who is tired of London is tired of life!” The Doctor replied as he yanked her in the TARDIS.
“What have you done to her? You poor thing.”
“The TARDIS had to reboot herself sometime ago. She’s been like this for awhile. I wished you were someone new so that I could impress you.”
“We’ll see, scarecrow!”
“Oi!”
Dorothy giggled. She felt exhilarated for coming back into the TARDIS. Like a wonderful restorative cup of camomile tea she felt rejuvenated.
“Hold on, Ace. Best take those heels off!”
“Oh, Prof. It’s good to be back!”
The Doctor grinned. “I do not care who you are on Earth... in the TARDIS you are Ace. And don’t you forget it!”
Sighing she leaned against the console and grinned back. “All right, Prof. Whatever you say!”
With his hand on the lever he looked directly in her eyes: “Ready?”
“Ready!”
Laughing for the first time in years she yelled out yes as the TARDIS made that wonderful, vworping sound. The sound she had been waiting to hear for the best part of twenty years.
Boy, was she ready.
Prologue
A heeled black shoe stepped onto the pavement. Soon it was met by a matching shoe. The man could not look away as his eyes swept up the lovely shaped legs covered in a pair of sheer tights. A short black skirt followed that. Matching jacket that was done up. The collar of a white blouse peeking out with a gold name pendant accessorising the outfit. Finally, he saw her face. Bright red lipstick accentuating a full pair of lips. Almost matching the red of the car. A shiny chestnut coloured bob framed pale cheeks. He sighed as he leant against his lawnmower. Shame the eyes were covered with a dark pair of sunglasses. It was not even that sunny. What the man admired the most was the shining red car. Never got that in Bannerman road. The woman glanced up to the roof of the house and stared at the ‘For Sale’ sign. Taking her phone out of the pocket she punched in a few keys and held it up to her ear.
“I’m here!” she exclaimed. “Where is the agent?”
“I am sorry, Madam. The agent has been called away. Emergency business.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Yes, Madam … er … Miss … no Ms …”
“Well,” she sighed squaring her shoulders. “I suppose I can peer in the windows at least!”
Abruptly she ended the call and placed the phone back in her pocket. A slight flutter of her heart that she had not felt for a long time happened. The same flutter that always beat when she was travelling with … No, she must not think of that. Of him! That always led to her feeling depressed. Depression had set in quite a lot recently. She had seen the Daleks. She remembered the Master … shuddering she walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. She had no understanding of this gesture but somehow it felt right. After all, this once belonged to a kindred spirit. One she had been tracking down for so long only to find out she had died.
Psychiatrists tried to help her with her problems but could not understand. Alien Invasions did not happen every day and when they did the Government managed to lie to the British populace. How she wished she could strangle their naivety. And how she wished that she could … No! Must. Not. Think. Of. Him! Maybe it was not such a good idea coming here.
Creak … What was that? The door opened. How could the door open with no one here? Never mind, she had seen worse things than that in her time. A few moments later she was standing in the hallway. Nothing more scary than an empty house, she thought. Taking slow and steady steps she saw only scraps of who had lived here before. The living room was well sized. As was the kitchen.
The stairway was neither too long nor too short. Keeping her hand on the banister to steady her nerves as she approached the second set of stairs. The ones that led to the attic. Something inside her told her to skip the bedrooms. Again, as if reading her thoughts, the door opened. Exactly the same feeling entered her chest. She wondered if she would need one of her chill pills.
Trepidation entered into her very being as she climbed those last few stairs and entered the empty attic. Heart leapt into her throat as she decided, probably stupidly, that she should close the door. Still, as he would say, humans! Stop it! she chided herself. Stop thinking of him. No!
Then she turned around. She backed up against the closed door. Throat tightened. Panicking she fumbled behind her for the handle. No, not that. Anything but that! Stupid, stupid girl. You knew something was wrong. Why? No she had to get away. She was hallucinating again. She must be.
“Hello!” a rather chirpy voice sounded out. “Ah! You made it! I am just coming out now. Glad you are here. Just how I planned.”
“Who are you?” she stammered. “I am Dorothy McShane. Who are you?”
The door of the Police box opened. “No you’re not,” the voice said. “You’re Ace!”
“I am Dorothy McShane. Even my oldest friends stopped calling me that!”
A man stepped out. Or he looked like a man. “I mean it. Who are you? And what on earth are you wearing?”
“It’s a bowtie. I wear bowties now.”
“Come on, who are you?”
“You must remember me. I’m the Doctor!”
“No you’re not! The Doctor was shorter, had a slightly Scottish accent, wore a vest covered in question marks, carried an umbrella, wore white and a hat!”
“A fez or a stetson?”
“Neither!”
The man rolled his eyes … then smiled. “Ah, yes. You knew me in my seventh regeneration. I am now in my Eleventh manifestation. Sorry, maybe I should have told you I changed. Now, Ace I need you!”
“My name is Dorothy McShane. Miss McShane to anyone younger than twenty!”
“Oh, Ace, that is so good. You think I am younger than twenty.”
“Dorothy McShane.”
“Oh, but I preferred Ace.”
“No you didn’t, or he didn’t … you … he … always called me Dorothy. Now I agree with you … no … him!”
The man approached her. Instantly she whipped out a device. “One step closer and I shall tazer you where you stand and get you arrested.”
“Okay,” he said. Then he looked at her. “Oh, yuck! I just realised you got all older!” sweeping his gaze he said, “and you got … curvey stuff going on! You never had that!”
“Yes I did. I always have. And what about you? if you are him then you look like you were born from a scarecrow cross-between a geography teacher!”
“Hey! That’s a bit personal!”
“So is saying I got older and got curves. I always have … Okay, I know a way to settle this.”
“Yes?”
Dorothy lost her fear and stepped forwards. “I want to see that sweater!”
“What?”
“That vest you wore. I want to see it!”
“But I …”
“No excuses. You really want me to believe you are the Prof then you find that vest - I know he had a very extensive wardrobe - surely if you are him you still got it somewhere. Oh, come on, it is not like I am asking you to put on the entire outfit.”
“You have changed. You’ve become my mother!”
Sulkily he stepped back in the TARDIS. Somehow she could hear his muttering and it made her laugh. A few moments later he stepped out wearing the sweater, the hat and the umbrella.
“I only asked you to put the blinking vest on?”
“Did I really wear this?”
“Inseparable.”
“It itches!”
“The hat and the umbrella. Oh umbrella! I wished to find one like you!”
“Never thought I’d hear you go ga-ga over an umbrella. And why are you wearing sunglasses?”
“Never mind,” her tone softened. She glanced up. “You are? Really? The Prof!”
“I hated that you know!”
“No you didn’t. Secretly you were pleased. It meant I was impressed with all your knowledge.”
“Look, now I am wearing this darned thing and you have seen the umbrella. You must realise I am the Prof?”
“Okay,” she was choked with emotion. “You are. Only …”
“Yes?”
“Why the bowtie?”
“Ace, it is good to see you again. I have missed you!”
“All right, you knew I was coming. Why are you here?”
“I came to see Sarah-Jane. Has she moved?”
Dorothy removed her glasses. “You … you don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?”
“Sarah-Jane is dead. Died in the line of fire.”
The Doctor stared into her face. Once the situation was fully comprehended he grabbed hold of her. Tears welling in his dark eyes darkening them still. Just as suddenly he let go and stared into her eyes.
“What is that?” he asked quietly.
“Don’t you remember?” she asked. “I have to wear sunglasses. Part of the scars of travelling with you!”
“Travelling … yes, travelling … with … ME! Come on, Ace, lets go!”
“I can’t! I have responsibilities.”
“Yuck. Not only older, curvier … you’ve also got sensibler … is that even a word. Never mind!”
“I run charities, earth needs me. Come on, Prof. As you said I am older. I don’t have the energy for this life anymore.”
“He who is tired of London is tired of life!” The Doctor replied as he yanked her in the TARDIS.
“What have you done to her? You poor thing.”
“The TARDIS had to reboot herself sometime ago. She’s been like this for awhile. I wished you were someone new so that I could impress you.”
“We’ll see, scarecrow!”
“Oi!”
Dorothy giggled. She felt exhilarated for coming back into the TARDIS. Like a wonderful restorative cup of camomile tea she felt rejuvenated.
“Hold on, Ace. Best take those heels off!”
“Oh, Prof. It’s good to be back!”
The Doctor grinned. “I do not care who you are on Earth... in the TARDIS you are Ace. And don’t you forget it!”
Sighing she leaned against the console and grinned back. “All right, Prof. Whatever you say!”
With his hand on the lever he looked directly in her eyes: “Ready?”
“Ready!”
Laughing for the first time in years she yelled out yes as the TARDIS made that wonderful, vworping sound. The sound she had been waiting to hear for the best part of twenty years.
Boy, was she ready.
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