It was time. The yellow light engulfed the body of the raggedy man. His hands lit up like Christmas lights and were soon followed by his eyebrow-less face. He was sad and alone. Clara, his only companion, had vanished without a trace. The Doctor could still feel her presence. He knew she wasn't dead. But maybe that was just the feeling of her saving him dozens and dozens of times in his past regenerations. Maybe he didn't want her to be dead. But he'd exhausted all of his resources, even his body, trying to find a way to bring her back. In the end, the mad man couldn't save the impossible girl. It was impossible. He didn't want to give up, but his time was up.
"I'm sorry" were the last words lightly whispered along with his tears. He stumbled to the floor before the light took over his entire being. He would've fallen flat on his new face but fortunately, his hand managed to catch his fall. However, it wasn't exactly his hand. His masculine hand became a delicate, slender hand. It had caught the Doctor by surprise. In all of his regenerations, there was never a time when he saw such a hand on him. Then he gently ran his small new hand down the side of his face. It was soft and squishy unlike his previously sculpted face. Then he ran his hand through his hair. He expected soft, short locks but instead felt a humongous clump of course, curly hair. He pulled the long hair in front of him to inspect the color. Of course it wasn't ginger, he thought disappointed again. Instead, it was a rich chocolate brown entangled with hints of copper. He came to the realization that he had become a girl.
"I'm a girl," the Doctor said testing out her new voice. "Ahem, I'm a girl," she said more assertively. She searched around for a mirror but caught her eye on one of the reflections inside the TARDIS. Her blue eyes widened at the sight of a beautiful girl. She was short, only about 5'4" and somewhat curvy, but not too curvy. She had a mountain of messy curly hair that seemed to fall every which way. She had a young, pale face with bright rosy cheeks. She also had much thicker eyebrows than her previous regeneration. She scrutinized her new look.
"I think a haircut is in order. And maybe a new wardrobe," she muttered looking down at the baggy outfit. Then she looked at the sad, dirty bowtie around her neck. That bowtie had seen just as much as he'd seen. It was time for the bowtie to go as well, but not before she gave it one last use. She wrapped the scruffy bowtie around a bushel of hair and made it into a side ponytail. This will do for now, she thought.
The Doctor then went to the control panel of the TARDIS and began pressing buttons and playing with knobs. She looked like a mad woman as lights flashed around her and the TARDIS began to jolt back and forth. Suddenly, it stopped. The TARDIS began to materialize in present day London, just off Baker Street. She stepped outside of the blue box and into a bustling rainy street. Her curly locks tightened at the moisture of the light misty rain. She noticed a small boutique across the street and made a break for it before the light shower quickly turned into a downpour. The shopkeeper was an elderly woman who looked surprised at the sight of the young woman dressed in baggy men's clothes.
"I think I need some new clothes," the Doctor said with a slight laugh whilst trying to lighten the look of concern upon the woman. The Doctor didn't take long trying to find the perfect outfit for herself. She must wear pants. Dresses or skirts were too distracting for time traveling; at least for her anyway. She didn't mind if her companions wore them though. So she picked out a dark pair of jeans and a plain white blouse. She looked down at her feet which were beginning to ache from walking around in such big shoes, so she picked out a pair of bright red Converse sneakers. She smiled happily at her choice of wardrobe.
The doctor then pulled out some psychic paper and showed it to the clerk. This way, she didn't have to worry about currency. She walked out with her old clothes in bags and happily sporting her new outfit. Before she threw her old clothes into the TARDIS, she took out the sonic screwdriver from within her old pockets and tried stuffing it in her new pockets but to no avail.
"Bloody hell, what is this?!" she cried in confusion. The pockets were fake! They were simple seams sewn on the sides to look like pockets. The Doctor frowned at this fault in her new outfit. "I guess this is why women must carry purses. Ugh, I can't carry a purse all the time!" she muttered to herself. Then she stuffed the screwdriver in her bosom and hastily tossed her old clothes into the TARDIS.
She walked around Baker Street for about half an hour before getting extremely bored and lonely. To fill that boredom and loneliness, she decided to stop by Speedy's Café whose smell of delicious food was quite tantalizing.
As soon as she entered the café, she heard a couple arguing over dead bodies.
"John, the head in the freezer couldn't have just sprouted legs and moved on its own! As a doctor, you should know that it's anatomically impossible!" A tall man with dark curly hair argued with his partner.
"I swear I did not dispose of anything in the freezer. I did, however, remove the eyeballs from the microwave. It's disgusting Sherlock. I have no idea how Mrs. Hudson puts up with this!" A short blond haired fellow retorted.
The Doctor listened closely to their conversation. These people cannot be human, she thought. They must be some sort of alien. Who else would be so casual in talking about human remains?
Without ordering anything, she swiftly followed the pair to their flat which was very close by. As soon as they shut the door to their flat, she whipped out her sonic screwdriver and began to work on the locked door. It clicked open within seconds. Using extreme caution, she slowly opened the door. She didn't see much because a brown sack was pulled over her head and she was thrown to the ground. She felt her hands being tied behind her back with zip ties. And she heard her sonic screwdriver roll across the wooden floor.
"What do you suppose this is?" asked John. He examined the screwdriver like a piece of jewelry. "I've never seen anything like it. I think it's a toy."
"IT'S NOT A TOY!" the Doctor cried through the sack over her head.
"Alright, who are you and what are you doing here?" asked Sherlock who promptly pulled the sack over her head.
The Doctor's blue eyes jumped around the flat. Maybe they aren't aliens after all, she thought. "I'm the Doctor. I'm sorry, I thought you were aliens."
"Aliens?" cried John incredulously.
Sherlock smirked. "You look a little old to be playing pretend."
"I know. I'm 992 and I'm not playing," the Doctor said through pursed lips.