These exerpts are from a larger work that doesn't exist and probably never will. I wrote this just to get the idea out of my system.

If you want to take the idea and run with it, be my guest. Just let me know so I can read your take on it.

TARDIS Interior:

"This area of spacetime is particularly turbulent," The Doctor said. "I generally try to avoid this area, and it's not just because of my black lover there..."

"DOCTOR!"

"What?"

"That's unspeakably rude! Not to mention a little out of character for you."

"What? Oh! No, I don't mean an african lover. That would be weird. I obviously meant somebody who would stab you as foreplay. Love and hate all tangled up together. Black romance, you see?"

"..."

"Now I should warn you. The TARDIS doesn't like this area of space. Something about it being too turbulent. Or not turbulent enough, I can't tell which.

"Now when you say 'stabbing', you mean-"

"With a knife. Or, well, a trident actually."

"I see. Is that normal for you?"

"What? I get stabbed occasionally, just like anybody else."

"Yeah, but people generally get stabbed because they were walking in a dark alley at night, not because they were flying off with some alien to meet another alien on some stab-happy alien planet.

"Well if it helps you feel better, just think of this planet as the dark alley of the universe."

"That does not inspire confidence, Doctor."

"I'm a Time Lord," said The Doctor. He was standing in a castle throne room, lavishly decorated in purple. Sitting across from him was Her Imperious Condescension, the Empress of the Alternian Empire.

"A Lord of Time?" she asked. "There are others like you?"

"A whole planet full of them. At least there used to be."

"Dear me. Tell me Doctor, have you ever heard of Lord English?"

"I can't say that I have." The doctor leaned in closer, as if to whisper a secret to the Empress. "I'm not exactly a native to these parts."

"Of course you're not. You haven't even got any horns."

The doctor touched the tip of his head lightly, as if self-conscious of his lack of horns or to double-check that he hadn't suddenly sprung them in the middle of the conversation.

"Lord English is a Lord of Time that marks his pages in history with ruthless destruction. He rampages across the timeline, laying waste to entire civilizations and relying on his associates when sheer brute force is not enough to accomplish his own, unfathomable goals. I myself am the Empress of the entire Alternian society, and yet I suspect that I rule only at his whim.

"That is the power of one Lord of Time, and you tell me that somewhere out in the universe is a whole species of them? I can't even begin to imagine the kind of sheer power that your civilization must possess. To us mere mortals, you must seem like Gods.

Tell me Doctor, where is your home planet located? I wish to meet this...planet of the time lords."

"It's called Gallifrey. And I'd rather not say where it is. A man's got to keep some secrets, you understand."

"Oh, Doctor. Somehow I suspect that these are the least of your secrets. Doorman!*"

A short humanoid creature with a shiny black carapace waddled over, wearing purple robes with a small white insignia embroidered on it.

"Take this man to the guest chambers. For now, he is to be our guest."

The small black creature danced a funny little jig and took the Doctor by the hand, leading him out the door.

*Castle Doorman, another alternate-universe version of Clubs Deuce.

(A later encounter in which The Empress hears of Gallifrey's destruction.)

"I must say, I'm not surprised. With that kind of power it's a surprise that they didn't wipe themselves out of existence the first time they had a petty squabble with another race."

"Are you trying to make me angry?"

"Is it working?"

(Later in the same conversation)

"So who was it? Some petty race with delusions of grandeur? The Vreenak, perhaps? The Droog? Some other backwater species I've never heard of?"

"We went to war with the Daleks, across a million years and a million parsecs."

"Mmm. You know, I rather liked the Daleks. Not very good conversationalists, of course. I mean, once they're done threatening your entire race with destruction, there's not much left to discuss."

"You've met one?"

"Oh, don't look so shocked, Doctor."