”What is that?”
It’s a mixture of alarm and offense that anyone
would dare attempt some manner of sneaking
into her palace; though it could hardly be called
covert when the perpetrator signaled their
arrival with such an unpleasant sound. Yet,
perhaps the most obnoxious and troubling was
the large blue box that now stood between she
and her vanity. Brows furrow into a scowl, eyes
narrowed as she stomps a foot and waves off
her clearly incompetent guards. A spark breathes
to life in her palm, a blazing ball of fire in seconds.
”If you wish to keep your life and your ——
… little blue home, I suggest you come out, dear.”
The Doctor’s gleeful voice boomed through the walls
of the TARDIS. Considering the outer shell of his ship
was effectively soundproof, the TARDIS must have
found it funny to project his voice through the shielding
because in the next moment he continued—
“Oh, blimey, I’m echoing. She’s put me on speaker,
hasn’t she? Cheeky. Hello there! One moment!”
There was some shuffling, a brief hiss of air, and then
the doors opened and the Doctor stepped out, looking
more like he was ready for a jaunt on the moon than a
siege on a castle. He beamed at Regina through the
helmet of his suit.
“You know, little blue home is probably the most
accurate first description anybody’s called the TARDIS
in about… well, as long as she’s been a blue box and
my home. Nice fireball. It won’t set anything on fire but
your lovely room, though.” He patted his stomach,
rustling the material. “I’m fireproof!”
”Long story. I assure you, he deserves it.
At least I’m not saying I’ll shoot him
even though that has been suggested.
Have you heard of ‘The Five’?”
”Oh, sure. The Five Realms, the Five Spheres, aï larivv — that’s
the five in common tedyokityn… The Five Beatles in Melbourne
in 1964… the Fantastic Five… no, hang on. Sorry. I changed that.
It’s Fantastic Four, now. Scratch that one.”
“You are a very odd man, do you realise?
It’s obvious by now that the box is yours.
The only question that remains is— why?
Of all the places to put it, this mustn’t have
Siger crosses his arms over his chest and presses
his lips together tightly. This eccentric man is
confusing him greatly. He’s not used to being
“— Why not?”
It was probably the least mature response he could have given,
like a kid acting petulant and contrary to a parent. But it was a
legitimate question, and the Doctor raised an eyebrow at the man,
twisting the key in the lock, but not quite opening the door.
“And anyway, it was just as easy to put her here as it would have
been to put her anywhere else.”
It’s not about who he is, it’s about who he hurt.
Maybe you ought to explain.
Her eyes widened briefly. “You’ve been mistaken for a bug guy before?” Willow shook her head. “Not buggy. It’s just…I mean you can never be too sure. And…I saw a movie. Where a substitute was made of bugs.” Not a total lie.
“Must’ve been some movie,” he commented lightly, shuffling some
papers on the desk for no reason other than the fact that he wanted
to look at least a little professional. Professional people did like to
shuffle their papers.
“A friend once asked me if I was a slug in a human suit. I told her then
and I’ll tell you now — what you see is what you get. Is that alright?”
The planet was mostly desolate, or at least it
was, compared to the ones Bee had visited
before. It was mostly rock. His sensors picked
up that it was cold, and the temperature was
There was a signal here, one that Bee’s own
vessel had picked up, though it wasn’t one that
he had recognized.
Dust stirred as the bot rested heavy feet onto
Bee sent out a signal in return for the one that
he had picked up, directing it towards the source,
which he was headed to now.
One of the panels on the TARDIS’s console pinged.
This might not have been quite so alarming had he
been anywhere else, but the Doctor had parked his
ship on this barren planet for the sole reason that it
was barren. No local lifeforms - completely inhospitable.
The Doctor pushed his goggles up on his face,
scampering out from underneath the console. So much
for that repair job. He could probably put it off for
another decade or two, anyway.
“Hello!” he said, plinking a finger against the glass bulb
that was currently flashing yellow. “What have we here,
eh? Not a distress signal, no. Not a warning, not a threat…”
A thoughtful hum rose in the Doctor’s throat, pressing
against his soft palette, and he pulled the monitor screen
around, banging on the corner with the palm of his hand
to turn it on. His fingers skittered over the screen, pressing
“Well! We can’t be rude. Let’s send one back, shall we,
dear? Let’s try a… blue ping. Blue is good, blue is friendly.
Blue is cool.”