I don't know about you, but I can't wait for the 50th anniversary.

This is completely non-canon, meant to take place sometime during Eleven's travels with Clara and before the events of the 50th.

I am not Moffat or the BBC and therefore do not own anything, except my own creativity.


"Right then!" the Doctor exclaimed. "World's Fair, 1889, Paris, France." He grinned delightedly and flipped a switch on the TARDIS console. "Hold on tight."

Clara grinned back and grabbed onto the railing to steady herself as the now-familiar shaking began. When sparks began shooting from the console, she was not surprised; the Doctor had explained to her all the dangers of time travel. This must just be some turbulence in the time vortex. If the time vortex had turbulence.

She only started getting worried when the sparks didn't stop. Smoke filled the air around her and she choked, trying to cover her mouth and hang on at the same time. "Doctor, what's happening?" she coughed, her eyes streaming.

"Uh, um, um, just a slight bump, I'm afraid," the Doctor called back, turning dials and flipping switches desperately. "No need to panic. We're just – AHHHHH!"

Clara shrieked as she was thrown backward by an especially violent tremor.

"Hold on, Clara!" the Doctor shouted. "Everything is under control!"

She clung desperately to the railing as sparks rained down on her. The Doctor spun around the console, trying to regain control of his TARDIS, to no avail. Finally, he grabbed onto the railing beside her.

"What are you doing?" Clara demanded.

"Hoping for the best!" he laughed, slightly maniacal. "Isn't this exciting?"

Clara screamed as the TARDIS shook uncontrollably, hurtling through space. Beside her, the Doctor whooped ecstatically. "Brace yourself!" he yelled.

Then the TARDIS landed with a thud that loosened Clara's grip on the railing and sent her sprawling on the floor. She coughed, fanning the smoke away from her face, and sat up slowly.

"Now!" the Doctor exclaimed, bouncing to his feet. "Let's see where we've landed, eh?"

"Wherever it is, she doesn't seem very happy about it," Clara observed, listening to the discontent whirring of the TARDIS engines. She glanced over at the Doctor, in time to see the smile slide off his face like sap as he looked at the screen on the console.

"Oh, no no no no," he whispered. "I should not be here."

"Doctor, what is it?" she asked, getting to her feet and trying to get a good look at the screen. Before she could see it, he spun the dial, making the screen go blank. Without looking at her, he began fiddling with the controls.

"We're not in Paris, Clara," he said, his bright mood from earlier completely gone. He flipped a lever back and forth, but it did nothing. "Come on, come on!" he shouted at the TARDIS. Clara could do nothing but watch, half horrified, half fascinated, as he spun around the console, desperately trying to get it starting again.

"Why isn't it working?" she asked quietly, part of her afraid of what the answer would be.

"We're in the wrong place," he answered shortly.

"But we've landed in the wrong place before," she said nervously. "The submarine…"

"No, we're – we're in the wrong universe," he said. "The TARDIS doesn't like it. She's been here before, so she's not shutting down completely like the last time, but she's just…not…working." He flipped a lever to demonstrate, and the TARDIS whirred sadly.

"But you've been here before, yeah?" Clara said. "You know what's out there, you can get help."

"Yes, I suppose," the Doctor murmured. He gulped visibly and straightened his bowtie. "Well, Clara Oswald. Care to visit a different universe?"

She smiled apprehensively, and he strode toward the doors. He gestured grandly to her. "After you."

Unlatching the doors, Clara stepped outside. The first thing she felt was the cool air; the first thing she saw the grey sky. She looked around in confusion.

"But it's London!" she exclaimed. "Proper, modern day London!"

Behind her, the Doctor sighed. "Of course it is," he muttered, half to himself. "Where else?"

"No, but…hang on, is that a zeppelin?"

"Clara, this is a parallel world," the Doctor explained. He gestured around himself with his hands. "Almost everything is just the same as your Earth, but with a few slight differences."

"Like the zeppelins," she said, staring upward.

"Like the zeppelins," he echoed. Closing the TARDIS doors behind him, he started walking down the empty suburb street. Clara followed close at his heels.

"So why did the TARDIS land here?" she asked. "What's so special about this place?"

The Doctor stopped in his tracks so suddenly that Clara almost ran into him. She heard him exhale slowly.

"What is it?" She followed his gaze, looking toward a small park that had just come into view around the corner. A little family was on the grass; a thin man with dark hair that stuck up in the front was crouching and holding his arms out towards a woman with blonde hair, who was helping a baby girl to stand on her own feet.

"Doctor, do you know them?" Clara asked slowly. "You said you've been here before…"

"Oh, this is bad," he whispered. "This is very, very bad."

"Why is it bad? Are they friends of yours?"

The Doctor glanced at her as if he had forgotten for a moment that she was there. He gave a surprised laugh. "Yes, I suppose they are. Were, that is." He exhaled slowly. "A long time ago."

"Who are they?" Clara asked, watching as the man said something that made the woman throw her head back with laughter. The sound carried over to them, and Clara heard the Doctor's breath catch beside her. She glanced at him, in time to see the moisture in his eyes before he blinked it away. "Doctor?"

He cleared his throat. "Nothing. We should go. Get back to the TARDIS. Places to see and all that." He started to walk away, but Clara caught his arm and dragged him back.

"If they're friends of yours, you should say hello," she said firmly. "Come on!" She started to pull him toward the park.

"No…Clara…" he protested, tugging his arm free from her grasp. She looked back over at the little family, in time to see the woman let go of the girl. The baby took a shaky step forward, then another into the man's outstretched arms. Beaming, he scooped her up while the woman cheered. The couple stood up, the girl in the man's arms, and the woman kissed the wispy hair on the top of her head. The man put one arm around the woman's shoulders, pulling her close.

When Clara looked back at the Doctor, there was no way for him to hide the tear that had escaped his eye and was running down his cheek. "Doctor!" she exclaimed.

"She's happy," he whispered, an odd mix of sadness and relief on his face.

"Doctor?" Clara repeated.

"Sorry," he muttered, wiping his eyes hurriedly. "It's just…"

Clara jumped as the cloister bells from the TARDIS sounded, louder than she had ever heard them. She had never seen anyone react to the TARDIS' odds sounds before, but the couple in the park both jumped as she had. The woman looked like she had just seen a ghost.

"Time to go!" the Doctor exclaimed, seizing Clara's wrist and pulling her back toward the TARDIS.

"But Doctor—" she protested, looking back at the couple. The man's eyes had fallen on the two of them, and just before they disappeared around the street corner, she thought she saw a flash of recognition on his face.

The Doctor dragged her back to the TARDIS, pulling the door open and running inside. At the console, he began desperately messing with the controls.

"Paris!" he exclaimed as the TARDIS slowly groaned back to life.

"But you can't just leave!" Clara protested as the time rotor slowly began to move up and down. "You know them; they recognized you!"

"This is much more complicated than you know," the Doctor said. "I should never have come here, this is all wrong." He rubbed his forehead like it hurt, then spun the console screen around to face him.

"But Doctor—" Clara started, but she stopped when she saw the look on the Doctor's face. He was frozen, staring at the screen, his expression a combination of shock and fear and…hope? Clara moved toward him slowly. "Doctor?"

"I…" he choked, and there was definitely a fair bit of hope in his face now. He covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes wet.

Clara went to his side and looked at the screen. "What does it mean?" she asked, but the Doctor just shook his head. She frowned. The screen was blank, as dark as a night sky without stars, except for two words in the center, scrawled across like graffiti.

Bad Wolf.