The world is in dire need of a 30 Rock/Doctor Who crossover fic, and I have volunteered to fill that need. Takes place after "Apollo Apollo" and after the Doctor loses Donna.

PART ONE

Lemon was in one of those rare good moods. She had done a single push-up in her office, the pimple above her lip that gave the impression of herpes finally went away, and for once, for one shining moment, she was alone and not receiving a lick of beef from anyone else is the studio. Speaking of beef…

She took one massive bite into her sandwich and the food long immediately became a six-incher. For a second she considered taking it back to the sandwich shop for a discount. Eh. Too much effort.

"Liz!"

"No!" She swiftly hurled a mug full of pens at Pete as he entered her office, missing his beautiful bald head by no more than an inch.

"Ah! Jesus, Liz, this is important! Tracy –

"No." She was unwavering. "I don't want to hear it. Pete, for once in my life I just want to sit in peace and eat a sandwich without one of you jagweeds barging in here asking me to fix your problems!"

He was relentless, challenging the great Liz Lemon. "Tracy isn't my problem, Liz. He's everyone's problem."

She let out an "ugh" that subjectively lasted for a good minute and a half.

"What?" she nearly stomped her feet like a two year old. "What has he done this time? Lit his pants on fire? Try to prank call Herbie Hancock again? No, don't tell me. He finally did it. He finally murdered that hobo on 5th ave that he thinks is a vampire."

"Worse. He threatened to quit the show."

"Quit? He can't quit. He's under contract."

"Yeah, but if he exposes himself on live television we'll have no choice but to fire him…Liz…where are you going? What are you doing? Liz!"

She was already out the door with a pair of scissors in her hand, her footsteps heavy and determined as she moved. Nobody interrupts sandwich time.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to cut off Mr. Jordan's penis, Miss Lemon." Dot Com stood defiantly in front of Tracy's dressing room with his arms folded.

"Agh! It's the only way!" She tried to push her way past him, but he stifled her with one hand as her arms flailed in vain effort. "Fine," she conceded grudgingly. "At least let me talk to him."

Dot Com looked at her expectantly and held out his hand. Liz frowned and placed the scissors into his palm and he opened the door.

"Ha ha! Herbie Hancock was hi-larious on this episode of Sesame Street. That piano can talk!" Tracy sat on the couch while Grizz held up the laptop for his viewing pleasure.

Liz stormed inside. "Tracy, do you have any idea why Pete is telling me that you've threatened to expose yourself on live TV?"

His demeanor became cold as he motioned for Grizz to shut the laptop. "L.L.," he said without looking at her.

Grizz looked at Liz. "Tracy says that, while he knows that you are not responsible for the deceitful actions propagated by Jack Donaghy, he is very disappointed that you allowed them to take place without filling him in and preventing his unfortunate humiliation."

"What deceitful actions are you talking about?" she nearly screamed.

Tracy jumped up. "Space, Liz Lemon! The final frontier! They lied to me! Now my dream will never come true!" He pouted, unsure why Liz hadn't known exactly what he was talking about.

"Ugh, are we still on this? Tracy, you can't go to space. Jack was just trying to help you. So they faked you out and put you on a fake ship. So what? They did all of that for you. And you believed it! It felt real! Wasn't that good enough?"

Tracy sat back down and folded his arms. "I can't say that it was, Liz Lemon. I can't say that it was."

Liz sighed and rolled her eyes. "What nark told you anyway?"

[]

Kenneth stiffly kicked back on the leather couch in Jack Donaghy's office as the sun shone in on his giant, overly excited smile.

"Thank you for inviting me to your office, Mr. Donaghy. I have to say that it is unusually uncharacteristic of you to acknowledge my humble existence."

Jack turned away from his thoughtful window staring spot, a new light twinkling in his eyes. "Nonsense, Kenneth. In fact, I invited you up here for the sole fact that your existence is so very humble."

Kenneth smile grew even wider as he took in the comment as a compliment.

"Kenneth, I have recently become re-acquainted with the relics of my childhood, something that was lost to me until I became witness to an unfortunate portion of Lemon's past." He was bouncy, but a bit unsure of himself, as if this new attitude were as foreign to him as K-Mart.

Kenneth stiffened. In a monotonous tone he asked, "You traveled to the past?"

"Television, Kenneth," he replied nonchalantly. "The video of a young Miss Lemon offering her services on a sex-chat hotline."

"So that wasn't Billie Jean King?"

"Ever since that moment, I decided that I could experience life through the eyes of a child again. But I can't do it alone, and that's why I need your help. You of all people know how to see the world through rose-colored glasses."

Kenneth smiled up at the handsome, felt puppet that made its way toward him. It grasped his shoulders in defiant desperation.

"Kenneth, you are my only hope. There may be an infinite amount of times that Liz has embarrassed herself, but there are only so many instances that are caught on tape."

"I'll be happy to help, Mr. Donaghy." He stopped. Something sinister about the page began creeping in. He looked down in an effort to control it before slowly aiming his gaze back up toward Jack. He spoke slowly. "But what's in it for me?"

"What?" Jack asked, taken aback at his bold demeanor.

As soon as he had changed, Kenneth snapped back out of it. "Huh? What? Why, I'm just happy to be here and to serve my superiors. Take a seat, sir. I'll pour you a glass of scotch as I tell you the story of a young boy named Kenneth who refused to grow up."

Jack sat down, a bit disoriented. "Like Peter Pan?"

Kenneth's behavior changed once more as his eyes clouded over. "No. Not like Peter Pan. Not like Peter Pan at all."

A flash of lightning filled the room accompanied by a clap of thunder. Jack and Kenneth watched as the set crew made its way past his office holding a large, flimsy metal board.

"Hm," Jack turned his head, casually ignoring Kenneth this time. "What is set doing on my floor?"

Kenneth disregarded him and slipped a white substance into the drink before Jack turned back around. He walked over to Jack and handed it to him. "There you are, sir," he smiled.

A mere feet away, an envious Jonathan pouted as he peeked his head into the room while Jack took a sip. Kenneth glared at him before closing the door.

[]

Vworp! Vworp!

The Doctor hopped energetically out of the Tardis, decked out in the gear of a sailor and striking a dashing pose.

"Times Square, 1945. War is over! Somebody lay a big old smackaroo right on – Oh." His eyes did a 360 around the room. It was a woman's dressing room. His smile instantly melted into a frown. "Well this isn't right."

Certainly nothing seemed to be going right ever since he lost Donna. Not that anything had ever necessarily gone right before, but recently he began to feel a strange responsibility for it all…as if his own subconscious wanted everything to go wrong. Something was coming. He was sure he deserved at least one last hoorah. And he was ready for it…but now he shuddered, feeling defeated once more.

"When life keeps handing you anchovies, just cover them up with some extra –

Jenna's eyes landed on the Doctor as she entered the room. "Oh, I'm sorry," she began playfully, taking him in. "I didn't mean to…" She stopped, and quickly became suspicious. "Wait a minute, what are you doing in my dressing room?"

The Doctor was taken aback at all of the chatter in such a short amount of time. He stared at her wide-eyed for a moment before he found the words to react with. "Oh, well, it's a bit hard to explain, you see…"

She noticed his sailor's uniform and grew anxious. "Are you a new cast member?"

"A new? No, I'm not a –

"They're forcing me to share a dressing room now?! They know I need an entire side of the room solely for my private bikini waxing sessions!"

The Doctor had begun to ignore the prying annoyance that is Jenna Maroney. He proceeded to lick a substance on the wall, his investigative nature kicking in, as he tried to figure out where he was. He spit out a wad of hair. Jenna forcibly placed herself in front of him before he could react properly.

"What's your name? And don't think you're original in that costume. I wore the exact same thing in a Cher video in the 90's when they thought I was a man because I was on a steroid regimen to treat what the doctors thought was early onset osteoporosis, but turned out to be a side effect of sexual experimentation."

He sighed, a bit tired of her already. "Look, I am not an actor. I'm just a, uh, uh, a traveler! Right. That's it, of course. The name's John Smith. Pleased to meet you." He extended a hand toward Jenna.

"John Smith," she rolled the words in her mouth, unconvinced. "Never heard of you. You must work off, off Broadway."

"Good!" He replied, relieved. "That's good you've never heard of me. That's the point." He looked at her for a moment, baffled. "Aren't you going to ask me about the elephant in the room?"

Jenna fixed her hair while looking into the mirror. "That's ridiculous. Liz is in her office."

His brow ruffled. She had to have been the first person in nearly fifty years who hadn't bothered to ask. "The giant blue box?"

Finally Jenna turned around. Her own self-absorption prevented her from having noticed anything out of the ordinary. She ignored the Doctor. "What the hell is that blue box doing in my dressing room?"

Finally! How dare anyone not be fascinated by his clever piece of complex machinery? The Doctor smiled. "That's how I got here."

Jenna rolled her eyes. "So the people from set agreed to build you a mode of transportation? That's not fair! Just last week I asked them to build me a giant replica of my head in the vein of the critically and audience panned failure Meet Dave. I would roll around inside of it and everybody would notice me."

The Doctor had never wanted a random person to look inside his Tardis more in his entire life, merely to prove a point. But before he had a chance to protest, Jenna had her arms around him and her mouth on his.

"Never mind, then. I know how to handle people like you. The painfully awkward way that you are carrying yourself in this sailor's outfit tells me that you are not gay. Therefore, as a sex-ually confident woman of the modern age, I have the fortunate ability to seduce you so that I can convince you not to take over as the star of TGS." She began to run her hands through his hair.

"I promise you," he said, trying his best to push her away, "I am not an actor! I might have given it a try once when Shakespeare and I had a brief – no." He paused, wide-eyed at the memory. "Definitely not an actor. Just-just a man with a box, traveling through time and space –

Jenna's right eye twitched. A portion of her brain lit up as it tried to process the keywords "time and space." Her mind flashed back to the eighth grade when she sat in the basement with Paul Pinski. She had agreed to let him touch her boobs if he would introduce her to his father, the director of the junior high's theater department. Unfortunately Mr. Pinski ended up being black out drunk after an unfortunate production of Jesus Christ Superstar. Meanwhile, it turned out that Paul was a big fan of Star Trek. He'd held his Spock doll in his arms as he explained the space-time continuum.

Her mind snapped back to reality and she smiled. "A nerdy boy, huh? Even better. I have experience with nerds, you know. I once gave Stephen Hawking a hand job in an Arby's bathroom."

"I am not a nerd! I am clever! There's a difference! A fine line, but a line nonetheless!"

Jenna pushed the doctor down onto her couch. A bowl of fruit lay nearby. "Have a snack, nerdy boy. We're going to have some fun."

The Doctor opened his mouth to object before he caught something out of the corner of his eye. He stopped. In the bowl of fruit lay a perfectly ripe, golden banana.

"Well," he began, beginning to relax. "I suppose if I can't party in Times Square…"

[]

"Jack, we need to talk about Tracy," Liz huffed as she rounded the corner and entered Jack's office.

"I'm flying! Jack!"

Outside on the ledge, Jack, dressed in a Batman costume, stand-up spooned Kenneth, who was dressed in a Robin costume, as they loomed dangerously close to the edge. They were giggling, arms outstretched and capes flapping in the wind.

"Jack! Oh my God!" Liz screeched, startling the two. Jack lost his balance and began to fall but Kenneth caught him single handedly with what appeared to be super human strength.

"Not yet," he muttered darkly as he pulled Jack back toward the window.

"Are you both crazy? You'll kill yourselves!" Liz yelled as she ran toward them.

"We're playing, Lemon!" Jack called through the window. "I'm doing everything I wanted to do as a kid, things my mother would have never allowed me to do, if Colleen were at all an attentive, caring mother. But I'm an adult now, Liz! I can do whatever I want and still experience life through the eyes of a child!"

"Jack! Kenneth! You two get down from there right now! For god sakes, it's sandwich time," she added, defeated. She sauntered over to the table, tipped over an empty bottle of scotch, and licked the edge of it, ready to give up and join them. Blech, scotch. Glancing around the room, she noticed more empty bottles of scotch and gin and other alcoholic beverages of the wealthy, white man persuasion. A long sigh followed.

She walked over to the window again. "I'm going to do something I saw once on Law and Order," she said to them. "I know neither of you are suicidal, but you're drunk and in suits so tight I can see your nards, and if that isn't a cry for help in and of itself I don't know what is."

"Watch my super hero stance, Lemon!" Jack balanced himself on a tip-toe and extended an arm that ended in a balled up fist. "I'm super man!" He and Kenneth giggled in unison.

"You are batman! There is a stark difference, Jack! One is an alien and the other is a regular guy who -forget it. I need you to listen to me! Jack...Kenneth, too…I guess, you have to come back inside. You have so much to live for. Jack, you're the vice president of a major company. You are an adult human man! You have responsibilities! This isn't like you…at all." She stopped for a moment, realizing just how strange Jack was acting. She went on, "And Kenneth! You have…you've accomplished many…you're the only person I know who enjoyed Whitney! We…need you?"

Kenneth giggled, unaccustomed to the devil's water. "Don't worry about me, Miss Lemon. I can't die!"

Liz's brow ruffled. She was taken aback and slightly freaked out, but decided to play along. "Yeah, well Jack can die!"

He seemed to snap out of it as he turned his head toward her, letting go of his grip on Jack. "I know."

Now he'd gone too far. She always knew Kenneth was a little strange, but now she was putting Jack's life at risk. She glared at him before turning to Jack. "Jack, grab my hand!" she called out the window and extended her hand toward his.

"How do I know you're not the Penguin in disguise?" Jack called back.

"Jack, if I am any Batman villain I am the Joker. Look at my life!"

Jack eyed her suspiciously. After a brief pause, "Fair enough." He let her pull him back in and a stoic Kenneth followed.

"God, what is wrong with you two?" she cried.

Jack was laughing now, hugging Kenneth and giving him noogies. Kenneth cuddled up to him like a puppy. "Lemon, I've never had so much fun in my entire life! I have laughed in the face of danger! Look at me! Watch my cape!" He spun around as Kenneth jumped, giddy with joy, before he ralphed all over Liz's shoe.

[]

If there was any completely probable murder suspect, it was Liz Lemon with barf on her shoe, an empty stomach, and the idea of seeing Tracy's genitals without the lights off. Fortunately nobody had been murdered, so Liz was off the hook. Unfortunately for her, further damage lay just around the corner…and into the door that led to the writer's room.

The Backstreet Boys' Millennium album was playing in the background. As "Larger Than Life" blasted so loud the walls shook, she scanned the room. Scripts and other papers lay scattered across the floor. Sue had her shirt off; Toofer was doing shots off of her belly button; and Frank and Lutz were playing Mario Kart in their underwear. Jenna and Cerie were dancing on the table in the middle of all the chaos. Some nerd with a bandana wrapped around his head and a banana in his mouth danced alongside them while the rest of the writers showered them in dollar bills. Between Jack's shenanigans and this, she'd have figured that something in the water wasn't clean, but the room didn't look any less insane that it always did.

But who the hell was that guy?

She waved her arms in protest. "All right, all right. Everybody cut it out!" Everyone who didn't throw empty bottles and other miscellaneous objects at Liz ignored her.

"Come on, you guys! Tracy's already threatened…Jenna, what are you doing? Who the hell is that?"

The Doctor twirled Cerie around, unaware of Liz, completely drunk.

"I've gotten him pissed, Liz!" Jenna exclaimed with glee.

"Ugh, is he from standards and practices? I told you not to get them drunk anymore, Jenna!"

"Not drunk, Liz. Pissed. It's British for drunk. He's British, Liz! Finally somebody I can relate to!"

The Doctor spun toward Jenna, shaking his hips. "I'm not British! I just happen to have a northern accent! Lots of places have a –

He proceeded to trip on an inconveniently placed dollar bill that had landed on the table, causing him to stumble to the floor.

"Ouch. My banana." He lay on his back, a smashed banana at his side.

Liz walked over to him, on the brink of her tipping point. This was just one more thing. She did not need another thing! "Alright, Rambo. Tell me who you are and whether or not I should kick you out or pretend to like you."

The Doctor lifted his head up as much as physically possible without inflicting too much pain and looked over at Liz. In his drunken stupor her lilted, "I'm the Doctor from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation Kasterborous and I'm 906 years old. Things I don't like include Daleks, paradoxes, and pears. Things I do like include Rose Tyler, bananas, and adventures. And one more thing…my head hurts." He fell limp again and passed out.

Liz looked from him to Jenna and made a motion as if to say, "what the hell?"

Jenna squealed. "Isn't he great, Liz? I've known him for just under an hour and he's been in character the entire time!" Just as quickly as she spoke, her demeanor changed and she went cold. "He's very good. I will destroy him." She looked back up and smiled. "His career, I mean."

"What career, Jenna? Who is this guy?"

Jenna's brow ruffled. "You mean you don't know? He's the new cast member."

"New-Jenna, we didn't hire a new cast member."

"You mean he's not an actor?" She looked down at him, suddenly disgusted. "But I made out with him on Jay Leno's desk…" She walked away exasperated, leaving Liz alone to deal with the mystery man.

Liz balled her fists. "Ugh, I don't have time for this! Lutz, hand me that…" Her eyes narrowed in on a plate on the edge of the table. "Oh my God, is that a cheese platter?" She got up and grabbed some for herself before sitting down next to the Doctor and waving a piece in his face face in the hopes of bringing him to. "Whyy are you suddenly my responsibility? You're lucky I have cheese," she muttered to the unresponsive Doctor.

The cheese provided a relief if only for a brief moment, for as soon as Liz took a bite out of her second piece, a giant shadow slowly grew before it engulfed the entire room. She left the piece of cheese in her mouth and followed everyone else to the windows. A giant space-ship at least a mile wide and stories tall hovered over Rockefeller Center, exuding a dull glow of rainbow colored lights.

"Blergh. Things have literally never been worse," Liz sighed. "Eh, yes they have."