If you are reading this because it has been re-posted, the only changes is in the A/N.
My friend Beth and I were really prolific 15 years ago, and that is about when this story was originally written. "The Trial of a Time Lord" was just about to air in England, and we had heard about Mel, but we had never seen any of the shows that she was in at that time. So, when in doubt, wing it!
I don't really believe in writing a disclaimer at the beginning of these stories, because it is fanfiction. If we owned the rights, we wouldn't be posting the stories here. We'd be making money off of them. I am making an exception here, because there is a bit of a crossover for "All Creatures Great and Small". For those who have not seen the show, Peter Davison (The Fifth Doctor) plays the character Tristan in that show. That is where all the girls, that he calls on the phone in the course of this story come from.
This story should answer many questions that have been boiling on Whovian minds . . . well, maybe not, but we were bad girls!!
Chapter 1: Oh No, Not Again
Carrying a heavily laden tea-tray, Jo trotted through the door of the Doctor's lab and called "Tea-time!" She didn't notice the cables and wires and tools and gadgets littering the laboratory floor; the Doctor was once again working on the TARDIS console, which he had removed from the TARDIS and which was no sitting in the middle of the room. It was unfortunate that she didn't notice this, for in the next instant, she tripped over the cable, and the tea-tray went flying. It was also unfortunate that she had called 'tea-time,' because the Doctor, had, at the sound of her voice, raised his head, upon which the teapot impacted. Wham went the teapot; clunk went the Doctor's head.
Jo looked up from the corner, in which she was cringing. Oh no, not again, she thought and fought her way through the tangled mess of cables and wires and tools on the floor. "Are you okay, Doctor?" she asked timidly, but he did not respond, for he was profoundly unconscious. So, Jo fought her way back through the mess on the floor, calmly walked to the hall and screamed at the top of her lungs, "HELP!"
The Doctor woke to find himself in UNIT sickbay, clad only in a short whit nightshirt. Ordinarily, this would have upset him very much, being the dandy he was, but it did not seem to bother him now. He bounced out of the bed and fluttered about the sickbay for a few moments, and then it occurred to him that he shouldn't be here at all; he was needed elsewhere. The Doctor got a bathrobe from a hook and a bottle of talcum powder from the nightstand, then he skipped out of the door.
Jo crept nervously into the Doctor's sickroom to see how he was doing, but she was shocked to see an empty bed. "I wonder where he went," she wondered aloud. Looking out the window, she noticed a peculiar white clad figure sprinkling talc on the guards as he danced out the gates. "Oh no, not again!" she cried.
A million, million, million, million miles away, on a small, boring, practically uninhabited planet called Gallifrey, a Time Lord scientist finish his report to the High Council.
"Oh no, not again!" complained the Lord President. "I guess we've got to get him out of this one, too. What would we do without out favorite flunky?" He turned to the Castellan. "Call up one of the others and send him after the third Doctor."
The Doctor and his companions, Jamie, Ben, and Polly, were preparing for their tea. "Did you wash your hands, Ben?" demanded the Doctor, glaring at Ben's grimy fingers. "Go wash them this instant!"
"But, Doc, you know I can never find the bathroom on the TARDIS!" Ben protested.
"That's no excuse, and besides, it's easy. You just go down the corridor 'till you pass the forty-seventh door on the right, then you turn left and go down that corridor 'till you meet the stairs, go up one flight and through the door at the top, pass ninety eight doors . . . "
"Alright, alright, Doc, I'll find it," Ben cut in, "Be back in a minute."
The Doctor suppressed a smile, as Ben closed the console room door behind him. Was it his fault that there weren't enough biscuits to go around.
Suddenly, an alarm went off in the console room and several lights on the console, whose existence even the Doctor didn't know of, began to flash. "Oh crumbs!" the Doctor exclaimed and shoved his biscuit in his mouth. An image began to form on the screen; the Doctor recognized him by his robes the Castellan. "Oh double crumbs!" he mumbled, spewing biscuit crumbs all over the breakfast table. Polly drew back in disgust; Jamie continued to eat happily; this meant he would get the remaining biscuits for himself.
"Greetings, Doctor," boomed the Castellan's voice officiously, "We have a little task for you . . ."
"Go away!" replied the Doctor rudely, as he flipped switches, pushed buttons, pulled levers, and search fruitlessly for a way to erase the Castellan's face from the view screen.
"ha," sneered the Castellan, "You have no choice in the matter, Doctor. One of your selves has gotten himself into trouble again, and his actions are threatening the very fabric of time itself!"
"Oh no, not again!" Polly sighed, pulling out her nail file.
"Which one?" the Doctor retorted, "Not . . ."
"The very same."
"Well, I won't have it! I'm not going to help that pompous, overbearing, arrogant, dainty little . . ."
"As I said, Doctor, you have no choice in the matter. Your TARDIS console has been overridden, and you are now on your way to Earth. And by the way, if you need help, we can always send another self to help you." The Castellan smiled. "Ta-ta, Doctor." and faded from the screen.
The Doctor muttered darkly to himself, while in the background, Polly and Jamie made bets on exactly how long it would be before the Doctor called for help.
In the kitchen of the TARDIS, Romana was attempting to boil water for tea, which she did better than the Doctor did, but that wasn't saying much. K-9 attempted for the forty-ninth time to explain the mechanics of making tea. Just then, the kitchen door flew open and the Doctor flitted in. He stuck his hand in the sugar jar and flung a handful over Romana. She swung around, her blonde hair flying, with an icy Time Lady look on her face.
"You can fly now, Romana!" exclaimed the Doctor cheerfully.
"I think you are flying already," Romana replied.
"It's magic pixie dust. Now you can fly!" the Doctor threw another handful of sugar at her.
"Oh no, not again," Romana said disgusted, "K-9, stun him!" Zap went K-9, and the Doctor took a much needed nap. Romana stood over his unconscious body. Sometimes I wonder why I say with him," she muttered, as she brushed sugar from her hair. She set off to the console room to set the coordinates for Gallifrey.
Turlough busied himself by throwing Froot-Loops at the Doctor, Nyssa, and teddy, who were watching "The Care Bears" attentively while having tea. The Doctor's idea of a good tea time snack was a bowl of Froot-loops, a mug of weak tea and afternoon cartoons, to which Turlough registered his disgust by throwing his food at the Doctor. Tegan, too, was tired of afternoon cartoons and "The Care Bears" in particular, so she crawled under the TV set and gave the cord a tug. The plug came out of the socket and "The Care Bears" went off. Turlough gave a sigh of relief. Suddenly a knock was heard at the TARDIS door, but the Doctor ignored it; he was frantically trying to plug the TV back in. The knock came again, and the Doctor called distractedly, "Turlough, get that, will you."
Turlough glared at him, threw one final Froot Loop and slunked towards the door. Upon opening it, he moved to immediately close it again, because the knocker was the Master. Unfortunately, the master got in the door anyway and began, "Doctor . . ."
"Shh!" replied the Doctor, "I'm busy." Nyssa shook her head sadly; "The Care Bears" was over. She snapped the TV set off.
"Oh drat!" the Doctor said. "Now, what did you want?" His eyes widened with fear, as he realized that Turlough had let the Master into the TARDIS.
"Doctor, I need your help!' the Master pleaded. "Your third self is driving me crazy!"
"He always did that to me, too!" the Doctor replied, "have a seat, won't you?" The Doctor pulled out a chair covered with Froot-Loops and brushed them into his hand. he held them out to the Master and asked, "Care for some Froot-Loops?"
The Master turned several shades of green and shook his head quickly. The Doctor sighed and dropped the Froot-Loops on the floor.
"Turlough, clean up these up!" barked the Doctor. He turned to the Master, "You were saying . . ."
"It seems that your third incarnation has been chasing me around, calling me Peter Pan, and telling me that we have to return to Never-never Land!:"
The Doctor exclaimed, "Oh no, not again! But why don't you just kill him or something?"
"That wouldn't be any fun!" protested the Master, "I just can't beat up a fairy."
The Doctor replied, "Then why are you picking on my third incarnation anyway?"
The master fell on his knees and threw his arms around the Doctor's ankles. He growled and begged, "You've got to help me! I can't . . ."
"Wait a minute!" yelped the Doctor and tried unsuccessfully to pull his ankles free. He failed, over balanced, and fell on his behind. The Master crept closer, his eye full of pleading. the Doctor shrank away and stammered, "Now, you and my third incarnation might have a relationship going, but I don't want to get involved!"
"Don't flatter yourself, Doctor!" The master replied indignantly. "I fear that your third self will accidentally kill himself before I get a chance to torture, mutilate, and humiliate and kill him, and then I would be depressed! So, here are the coordinates; he'd in England." With that the Master turned and left.
"What are we going to do, Doctor?" Nyssa asked.
"I guess we'll have to go and rescue him, Nyssa. he's in trouble and whatever happens to him ultimately happens to me. no wonder I had this terrible urge to click my heels together and say, 'There's no place like home.'"
"Wrong story!" Tegan and Turlough yelled in unison.
The Doctor shot them a dirty look, set the coordinates, and they were off.
Grabbing his toolbox from the laboratory bench, the Doctor headed for the console room. On his way out the door, he met his latest companion and most sadistic companion, Melanie. Mel was a health food nut, and she not so delicately implied that the Doctor was fat! Consequently, she had put him on a diet and scoured the TARDIS from the top to bottom, destroying all junk food in her wake. At least, she believed that she had done this; the Doctor knew better.
My friend Beth and I were really prolific 15 years ago, and that is about when this story was originally written. "The Trial of a Time Lord" was just about to air in England, and we had heard about Mel, but we had never seen any of the shows that she was in at that time. So, when in doubt, wing it!
I don't really believe in writing a disclaimer at the beginning of these stories, because it is fanfiction. If we owned the rights, we wouldn't be posting the stories here. We'd be making money off of them. I am making an exception here, because there is a bit of a crossover for "All Creatures Great and Small". For those who have not seen the show, Peter Davison (The Fifth Doctor) plays the character Tristan in that show. That is where all the girls, that he calls on the phone in the course of this story come from.
This story should answer many questions that have been boiling on Whovian minds . . . well, maybe not, but we were bad girls!!
Chapter 1: Oh No, Not Again
Carrying a heavily laden tea-tray, Jo trotted through the door of the Doctor's lab and called "Tea-time!" She didn't notice the cables and wires and tools and gadgets littering the laboratory floor; the Doctor was once again working on the TARDIS console, which he had removed from the TARDIS and which was no sitting in the middle of the room. It was unfortunate that she didn't notice this, for in the next instant, she tripped over the cable, and the tea-tray went flying. It was also unfortunate that she had called 'tea-time,' because the Doctor, had, at the sound of her voice, raised his head, upon which the teapot impacted. Wham went the teapot; clunk went the Doctor's head.
Jo looked up from the corner, in which she was cringing. Oh no, not again, she thought and fought her way through the tangled mess of cables and wires and tools on the floor. "Are you okay, Doctor?" she asked timidly, but he did not respond, for he was profoundly unconscious. So, Jo fought her way back through the mess on the floor, calmly walked to the hall and screamed at the top of her lungs, "HELP!"
The Doctor woke to find himself in UNIT sickbay, clad only in a short whit nightshirt. Ordinarily, this would have upset him very much, being the dandy he was, but it did not seem to bother him now. He bounced out of the bed and fluttered about the sickbay for a few moments, and then it occurred to him that he shouldn't be here at all; he was needed elsewhere. The Doctor got a bathrobe from a hook and a bottle of talcum powder from the nightstand, then he skipped out of the door.
Jo crept nervously into the Doctor's sickroom to see how he was doing, but she was shocked to see an empty bed. "I wonder where he went," she wondered aloud. Looking out the window, she noticed a peculiar white clad figure sprinkling talc on the guards as he danced out the gates. "Oh no, not again!" she cried.
A million, million, million, million miles away, on a small, boring, practically uninhabited planet called Gallifrey, a Time Lord scientist finish his report to the High Council.
"Oh no, not again!" complained the Lord President. "I guess we've got to get him out of this one, too. What would we do without out favorite flunky?" He turned to the Castellan. "Call up one of the others and send him after the third Doctor."
The Doctor and his companions, Jamie, Ben, and Polly, were preparing for their tea. "Did you wash your hands, Ben?" demanded the Doctor, glaring at Ben's grimy fingers. "Go wash them this instant!"
"But, Doc, you know I can never find the bathroom on the TARDIS!" Ben protested.
"That's no excuse, and besides, it's easy. You just go down the corridor 'till you pass the forty-seventh door on the right, then you turn left and go down that corridor 'till you meet the stairs, go up one flight and through the door at the top, pass ninety eight doors . . . "
"Alright, alright, Doc, I'll find it," Ben cut in, "Be back in a minute."
The Doctor suppressed a smile, as Ben closed the console room door behind him. Was it his fault that there weren't enough biscuits to go around.
Suddenly, an alarm went off in the console room and several lights on the console, whose existence even the Doctor didn't know of, began to flash. "Oh crumbs!" the Doctor exclaimed and shoved his biscuit in his mouth. An image began to form on the screen; the Doctor recognized him by his robes the Castellan. "Oh double crumbs!" he mumbled, spewing biscuit crumbs all over the breakfast table. Polly drew back in disgust; Jamie continued to eat happily; this meant he would get the remaining biscuits for himself.
"Greetings, Doctor," boomed the Castellan's voice officiously, "We have a little task for you . . ."
"Go away!" replied the Doctor rudely, as he flipped switches, pushed buttons, pulled levers, and search fruitlessly for a way to erase the Castellan's face from the view screen.
"ha," sneered the Castellan, "You have no choice in the matter, Doctor. One of your selves has gotten himself into trouble again, and his actions are threatening the very fabric of time itself!"
"Oh no, not again!" Polly sighed, pulling out her nail file.
"Which one?" the Doctor retorted, "Not . . ."
"The very same."
"Well, I won't have it! I'm not going to help that pompous, overbearing, arrogant, dainty little . . ."
"As I said, Doctor, you have no choice in the matter. Your TARDIS console has been overridden, and you are now on your way to Earth. And by the way, if you need help, we can always send another self to help you." The Castellan smiled. "Ta-ta, Doctor." and faded from the screen.
The Doctor muttered darkly to himself, while in the background, Polly and Jamie made bets on exactly how long it would be before the Doctor called for help.
In the kitchen of the TARDIS, Romana was attempting to boil water for tea, which she did better than the Doctor did, but that wasn't saying much. K-9 attempted for the forty-ninth time to explain the mechanics of making tea. Just then, the kitchen door flew open and the Doctor flitted in. He stuck his hand in the sugar jar and flung a handful over Romana. She swung around, her blonde hair flying, with an icy Time Lady look on her face.
"You can fly now, Romana!" exclaimed the Doctor cheerfully.
"I think you are flying already," Romana replied.
"It's magic pixie dust. Now you can fly!" the Doctor threw another handful of sugar at her.
"Oh no, not again," Romana said disgusted, "K-9, stun him!" Zap went K-9, and the Doctor took a much needed nap. Romana stood over his unconscious body. Sometimes I wonder why I say with him," she muttered, as she brushed sugar from her hair. She set off to the console room to set the coordinates for Gallifrey.
Turlough busied himself by throwing Froot-Loops at the Doctor, Nyssa, and teddy, who were watching "The Care Bears" attentively while having tea. The Doctor's idea of a good tea time snack was a bowl of Froot-loops, a mug of weak tea and afternoon cartoons, to which Turlough registered his disgust by throwing his food at the Doctor. Tegan, too, was tired of afternoon cartoons and "The Care Bears" in particular, so she crawled under the TV set and gave the cord a tug. The plug came out of the socket and "The Care Bears" went off. Turlough gave a sigh of relief. Suddenly a knock was heard at the TARDIS door, but the Doctor ignored it; he was frantically trying to plug the TV back in. The knock came again, and the Doctor called distractedly, "Turlough, get that, will you."
Turlough glared at him, threw one final Froot Loop and slunked towards the door. Upon opening it, he moved to immediately close it again, because the knocker was the Master. Unfortunately, the master got in the door anyway and began, "Doctor . . ."
"Shh!" replied the Doctor, "I'm busy." Nyssa shook her head sadly; "The Care Bears" was over. She snapped the TV set off.
"Oh drat!" the Doctor said. "Now, what did you want?" His eyes widened with fear, as he realized that Turlough had let the Master into the TARDIS.
"Doctor, I need your help!' the Master pleaded. "Your third self is driving me crazy!"
"He always did that to me, too!" the Doctor replied, "have a seat, won't you?" The Doctor pulled out a chair covered with Froot-Loops and brushed them into his hand. he held them out to the Master and asked, "Care for some Froot-Loops?"
The Master turned several shades of green and shook his head quickly. The Doctor sighed and dropped the Froot-Loops on the floor.
"Turlough, clean up these up!" barked the Doctor. He turned to the Master, "You were saying . . ."
"It seems that your third incarnation has been chasing me around, calling me Peter Pan, and telling me that we have to return to Never-never Land!:"
The Doctor exclaimed, "Oh no, not again! But why don't you just kill him or something?"
"That wouldn't be any fun!" protested the Master, "I just can't beat up a fairy."
The Doctor replied, "Then why are you picking on my third incarnation anyway?"
The master fell on his knees and threw his arms around the Doctor's ankles. He growled and begged, "You've got to help me! I can't . . ."
"Wait a minute!" yelped the Doctor and tried unsuccessfully to pull his ankles free. He failed, over balanced, and fell on his behind. The Master crept closer, his eye full of pleading. the Doctor shrank away and stammered, "Now, you and my third incarnation might have a relationship going, but I don't want to get involved!"
"Don't flatter yourself, Doctor!" The master replied indignantly. "I fear that your third self will accidentally kill himself before I get a chance to torture, mutilate, and humiliate and kill him, and then I would be depressed! So, here are the coordinates; he'd in England." With that the Master turned and left.
"What are we going to do, Doctor?" Nyssa asked.
"I guess we'll have to go and rescue him, Nyssa. he's in trouble and whatever happens to him ultimately happens to me. no wonder I had this terrible urge to click my heels together and say, 'There's no place like home.'"
"Wrong story!" Tegan and Turlough yelled in unison.
The Doctor shot them a dirty look, set the coordinates, and they were off.
Grabbing his toolbox from the laboratory bench, the Doctor headed for the console room. On his way out the door, he met his latest companion and most sadistic companion, Melanie. Mel was a health food nut, and she not so delicately implied that the Doctor was fat! Consequently, she had put him on a diet and scoured the TARDIS from the top to bottom, destroying all junk food in her wake. At least, she believed that she had done this; the Doctor knew better.