Time and Tides
Amid the swirling royal blue and purple clouds of the vortex the box fell. Tumbled end over end along its haphazard course, travelling a hidden path, a direction known only to itself. One of the occupants inside the curious machine would exclaim he knew the precise destination, that the TARDIS was under his control. But for now he was content to sit back and let fate guide him. He believed in the concept of fate, of course he did! History and the future, at least from his viewpoint was a matter of fact. He came from a place outside of time, thus everything was pre-ordained, a road he frequently travelled.
There was no sound in the vortex, a vacuum of iridescent gas that allowed travel through the infinite dimensions of time and space. Get close enough however, press your ear to the door of the strange blue police box and you would hear, just faintly, the ghost of music coming from within.
I'm the urban spaceman, baby, I've got speed, I've got everything you need.
I'm the urban spaceman, baby, I can fly, I'm a supersonic guy.
The song echoed mournfully through the TARDIS, the normally light-hearted tune seemed lonely and sad as it drifted along the empty corridors and vast rooms. Within the Doctor's private study the turntable spun the crackling vinyl disc to a close and the arm clicked loudly, lifting itself back to the start of the record, waiting for the listener to begin it again.
In the ornate armchair however, the Doctor sat motionless. He was dressed somewhat strangely in a 1940's style three-piece suit topped with a tartan dressing gown. It was what he would call "a rather unique ensemble" and he thought he wore it quite well indeed. A large, dust covered book lay open on his knees, the pen hovering above it. He sniffed theatrically and made no move to write. The glasses on his nose threatened to topple onto the book before him; precariously balanced as they were and he pushed them higher as he stared at the empty, slightly yellowed pages.
Elsewhere in the TARDIS, Rose Tyler explored. She was lost but wouldn't admit it, not to the Doctor anyway. This weird Time And Retarded Distance In Something else contraption had hundreds of corridors all intersecting one another, like the most complicated maze she'd ever been in. This was worst than the time she'd gotten lost in the hedge maze at Blackpool Pleasure Beach as a child... the memories were not the best and she shivered involuntarily. As she passed another coat rack she gingerly touched a long, rather flamboyant Victorian number hanging upon it and it gave off a unwelcome cloud of dust before crumbling to the floor in a heap. As she walked on, Rose found something she wasn't expecting, a room she hadn't seen before, even though she could've sworn she'd passed this way earlier. On a small brass plaque fixed to the door was the word Gallery in a flourishing, old fashioned script. Underneath the word itself were several strange pictographs, like Egyptian hieroglyphs.
Inside the room, a series of paintings hung showing images of strange landscapes and buildings. She paused in front of a rather large picture with a figure standing in front of what appeared to be a medieval castle. It wasn't the Doctor though, nor the... other Doctor either god this could turn out to be a confusing journey she thought. For a few minutes she gazed at the man who wore an unusual hybrid English outfit, cricketer's whites with what looked like the dress uniform of an old Eton schoolboy. The voice coming from right next to her ear startled her.
"Love that hair!"
Rose recovered quickly despite herself and smiled.
"Yeah, very Duran Duran, who is he?"
The Doctor ignored the question but continued talking.
"My salad days. I've still got those shoes you know? Totally impractical for hiking through rough country but very stylish, don't you think?"
Rose glanced down to see he was in fact wearing the same dirty white sneakers that the man in the painting wore. She put two and two together and swallowed hard. Afraid to ask anymore she changed the subject.
"I never knew about this room, it's like..."
"Mmm, like the TARDIS hides things. I know. A hallway one day leads to one place, then changes the next. I never get used to that."
"How can you live in a place like this? It's... well, it's nuts innit?"
The doctor feigned a look of shock.
"Stop it! You'll hurt its feelings. Tell you what though, 900 years, seems just like yesterday. Ah! Here's one you might enjoy."
The Doctor had turned to the right and was gazing upon a portrait of his previous form. Instead of liking it though, Rose was horrified, and looked away. Suddenly reminded of something she'd tried hard to put to the back of her mind over the last few months.
"I'm not that bad an artist am I? I rather thought I got the likeness. The ears were hard though."
She swallowed uncomfortably and forced out a question.
"You painted this? All of these? Why?"
There was a sigh as he cast his eyes over the collection of art.
"Sometimes words just aren't enough."
Rose understood and tried not to let her emotions show but the tears in her eyes threatened to cascade down her cheeks and she bit her lip to hold them in. He continued speaking quietly.
"Sometimes I feel so old, Rose, so stretched out. I worry that maybe I'll forget some things, the things that used to be. The way things were"
Rose felt his pain and moved to put an arm around him.
"That's so sad."
The Doctor moved away before she could comfort him; touched a panel to his left and the fancy gas lamps in the room brightened gently, revealing the rest of the wall. Nine portraits hung together. Nine extraordinary paintings.
"Existence is change Rose."
She gasped in amazement.
"Oh Doctor..."
"Lifetimes eh? They seem to get shorter."
Rose scoffed. "You're lucky; some of us only get the one."
He didn't answer, lost suddenly in thought. Rose wandered to the other wall and traced patterns in the dust under the dozens of frames.
"So what are these?"
The Doctor snapped out of his reflection with a soft smile and joined her.
"Sometimes I paint pictures of the past, and sometimes well, sometimes I paint the future."
"The future..."
"Yeeeeeah, it s all a bit disconcerting."
In silence she stared, all breath suddenly leaving her body. On the far wall of the Gallery a picture of Rose hung, seemingly out of place with the rest of the artwork. As she gazed in wonder, Rose noticed in the portrait she seemed to be older, wiser and a little sadder.
"It's me!"
"I'm not sure what drove me to paint this one, a dream maybe?"
Rose laughed.
"I love it. I look like me mum though."
"You amaze me sometimes, all you bloomin' humans, gotta love your sense of humour."
"Wait. Let me get this straight, you know my future? What's going to happen to me?"
The Doctor sucked in a deep breath and held it for an impossibly long time, finally letting it out through his lips with a sound akin to air escaping from a balloon.
"Kind of, well, no, sort of, I dunno, maybe, yes? It's hard to explain."
Rose laughed.
"You're telling me."
The Doctor continued. "It's like a river y'know?"
Rose rolled her eyes.
"Oh here we go, all this metaphor and mystery is making me hungry, you'll have to get to the point Professor or I'm stopping the TARDIS to get a kebab."
The Doctor thought for a moment, Squatted low to the floor and made a motion with his hands.
"A river, see? You know what the water is and what it's doing, you know where it flows to, sometimes you might visit it on your holidays (The seaside, she said and he smiled a toothy smile) but time is like water, it's unique Rose, it goes where it wants, here and there, a sudden rainstorm and the a stream becomes a torrent, it might burst its banks and flow somewhere else entirely. Tributaries and pools, sometimes they lead to the sea..."
He pointed at the portrait of Rose.
"And sometimes they simply stop."
He gestured at the nine pictures of his previous lives.
Rose was silent for a long time. The Doctor still crouching as he looked up at her.
"So there's a chance I might... stop too?"
There was a barely perceptible frown on the Doctor's face but he quickly bounced to his feet and tapped her affectionately on the nose with his finger.
"I'd never tell."
He started to walk towards the door and turned towards her, offering his arm.
"Let's get out of here eh? I believe you said something about kibobs?"
She laughed and hooked her arm in his.
"Kebabs."
"Hmm, never had one. Are they nice?"
"900 years old and you've never had a kebab? Oh you'll love it, c'mon, I'll treat you."
"Brilliant! Can we have chips too?"