Eight blue boxes on a green hill. First they whirr, then they purr, then they stand still. It was time for the annual reunion, a sort of a fun little rule the Doctor had invented back on Gallifrey when he was only 121. Once during every incarnation(whenever he felt like it of course), he would go to the Eye Of Orion(one of the few places he knew he wouldn't be disturbed on) and have a lovely chat with his other selves.
To keep the timelines safe, the Doctor always wiped his mind after the event. He didn't feel bad though... as the next incarnation, he could see how he'd reacted all over again.
The job of the final version(the Thirteenth Doctor) was setting up the table and the drinks.
The First Doctor non-chalantly strolled out of his TARDIS, immediately taking notice of the lack of any preparation. His fears were quickly confirmed when he looked at the line of ships next to his. Only eight.
"Well, that is an awful shame." he commented. "I will be cut down in my heyday. One can only hope it won't be over a brick..."
The Second Doctor's reaction was far more materialistic. "Now who will serve lunch?! I haven't eaten in two days for this!"
"I will take care of everything." assured the saddened Eighth Doctor. "It's my duty."
He returned to the TARDIS to scavenge his kitchen, hoping that his other selves have enough patience not to run off.
The Fifth Doctor didn't really seem to mind the huge revelation about his future and was instead studying the landscape. "Wonderful place, the Eye Of Orion, isn't it? I'm glad we picked this one."
The Seventh Doctor stared worriedly at the clouds. "I hope it won't rain. My umbrella just got scorched."
"You can take mine, I have plenty." offered the Sixth Doctor.
"Since when are you nice?" asked Seventh.
"Well I'm sorry for being worried about getting a cold in the future!" he snapped in return.
The Third Doctor shared the Seventh Doctor's opinion. "Couldn't we have a chosen a more sunny place? This weather is terrible for my clothes!"
"Oh, who cares about the clothes?! I was promised lunch and I hold by my promises!" muttered the Second Doctor.
"I was talking to the versions of us who actually had a sense of decor."
"There is absolutely nothing wrong with this coat. It is a carefully designed reflection of my personality!" protested the Sixth Doctor.
"And I wasn't talking to you. Actually, to be honest, I rather fancy that suit."
The Second Doctor face-palmed.
Understanding the Eighth Doctor's depression better than anyone, the First Doctor thought it polite to go and help him gather things up.
He entered the TARDIS, only to be gobsmacked.
"What in the name of-?!"
The Eighth Doctor smiled when he saw the old man come in. "Rather different, isn't she?"
"This is incredible! How did you do it?! If I'd seen this in the desktop library...!" babbled the First Doctor excitedly.
"Well, it was really an accident, but I'm glad it happened. I think it's rather quaint."
The First Doctor was shocked. "Quaint? Quaint?! It is the epitome of comfortable time travel, young man! You wouldn't mind sharing now, would you?" he said in a sly tone. Despite the dangers of timeline changes, he just had to take a ride in the machine!
The Eighth Doctor put an end to it immediately. "That's quite a request from someone who kidnapped his first companions because he didn't want people finding out he had a TARDIS. As if anyone could!"
"Yes, well, time does mellow us out, doesn't it?"
"Or not." said the Eighth Doctor in a sharp tone, not looking at the First Doctor anymore.
The old man didn't realise he had gone into his memories and felt embarrassed. "Look, I don't deny that what I did was a bit hasty, but I had the best of intentions!"
The Eighth Doctor snapped out of it. "I never thought otherwise. Jelly baby, Doctor?"
"Uh... alright then. Yes."
The Second Doctor clapped as the First and Eighth Doctors dragged the table with plates and teacups on it. It was lucky the Eighth Doctor had a Victorian-themed TARDIS because it meant he also had rather pretty-looking silverware. The Third Doctor, attracted to them like a fly to jam immediately went to assist the two of them and began acting rather respectably around his future self.
The Fifth Doctor offered to bring out the chairs from his ship, but the First Doctor immediately disapproved. "I've seen the things you call chairs, young man, and I absolutely refuse to rest on those hard fi-fibers. If one of you could go into my ship, I have some real chairs there."
"I'm sure you do." scoffed the Fifth Doctor. He obeyed his younger self anyway. Meanwhile, the Eighth Doctor cut the pie. It wasn't the huge blue box-cake they were hoping for, but no one blamed him. They weren't that cruel. However, they were cruel enough to complain about the chunks given to each of them.
"Look how thin I am!" pleaded the Seventh Doctor. "I need more on my bones!"
"Don't be so melodramatic." the Third Doctor snarked back. "You look fine. Well you would, if you'd take off that ridiculous jumper."
"He will." the Eighth Doctor added in quietly.
The Second Doctor stared at the Third Doctor. "I can't believe you take offense at the little one's costume and not this... this..." he pointed frantically at the Sixth Doctor's coat, lost at words.
The Sixth Doctor immediately recoiled. "This what? Spit it out, little one!"
"Now that's unfair. My size may be small, but I'll have you know that I'm the one who invented the screwdriver I see half of you using! What have you done?!" he turned to the Seventh Doctor who grinned. "Blew up Skaro."
"What?!" gasped the Fourth Doctor, who had been on his own so far. He didn't seem to enjoy mingling with his other selves. "You did what?!"
"I rectified a mistake I made in my youth."
This little talk made all the previous Doctors to draw a bit away from him.
The sour meeting improved marginally once the tea came into the picture. It was a fact that all versions of the Doctor, even the grumpier ones, loved tea.
The Second(who understood violence against enemies better than some others) and the Seventh Doctors whipped out their musical instruments and brought atmosphere to the reunion.
The First and Eighth Doctors were reminiscing about their granddaughter, Susan. The Fifth Doctor was lying on the ground with his hat on his face. The Third, Fourth and Sixth Doctors discussed the future of UNIT.
All was going well, until a flying saucer darkened the sun. The Doctors ceased all actitivies and looked up, in shock. The Eighth Doctor scanned the ship with his sonic screwdriver. "It's definitely of Dalek origin. But what's it doing here? There's nothing here."
"I'd hate to state the painfully obvious, but..." started the Sixth Doctor.
"We're here." breathed the Fourth Doctor.
A silky, all too familiar voice boomed across the fields. "Well, well, well. Isn't this charming? A war rages across time and space and the Doctor is having tea."
The Eighth Doctor scowled.
"Your TARDISes have been impounded by fixed point-beams, don't even consider escape."
A shuttle burst out of the saucer and flew towards the band.
The First Doctor grabbed his walking stick from the wrong end, apparently hoping to use it as a weapon.
The Second Doctor quickly hid tea packs, a few cups and bottle of water into his pockets.
The Third Doctor took a defensive Venusian aikido position.
The Fourth Doctor glared upwards.
The Fifth Doctor made a weapon out of a kettle and some string, but was inching towards legging it.
The Sixth Doctor had his sonic lance on standby.
The Seventh Doctor brought out knitting needles from nowhere.
The Eighth Doctor just waited to see what happened.
The shuttle landed right next to them. A ramp extended from the door which opened to reveal their hated enemies the Daleks who were protecting the shuttle's primary occupant: the Master himself.
"I thought you'd learned not to mingle with these things the first time." commented the Third Doctor.
"Oh I did. Which is why these Daleks are specially engineered to suit my purposes. Betrayal is not an option."
The Daleks all screeched in chorus. "WE ARE YOUR SER-VANTS!"
"That is obvious." chuckled the Master.
"So, you got us." said the Eighth Doctor, taking a protective position before his other selves. "What do you intend to do now? Kill us off one by one? Torture us, perhaps? Take us to Gallifrey to be trialed for breaking the rules like this?"
"Not at all. I am here, Doctors... to warn you."
The Third Doctor laughed out loud. "You? Warn us? Poppycock!
"The last time I tried to help you, you misjudged me. Take great care before doing that again." The Master turned to the Eighth Doctor. "The Eye Of Orion is a sacred ground in the galaxy. No violence of any kind may take here, but in these times, no one obeys even those rules anymore."
"Calm down and tell me what's going on."
The other Doctors observed curiously as the Eighth Doctor and the Master had a discussion as if they were friends again. And what was all this talk about a war?
"Are you sure the Child won't change course?"
"Positive, Doctor. I wish I could say otherwise, this my favourite planet, y'know."
"Oh really?" asked the Eighth Doctor sarcastically.
"Just leave." said the Master, now addressing the younger Doctors. "Leave and return to your time-streams. This party is over." He returned to the Dalek saucer.
"You sir, have a great deal to explain." said the First Doctor. "I'm afraid I can't." apologised the Eighth Doctor. "Events are in motion that even I can't control. You'll have to find out the old-fashioned way. Living through it. I'm afraid this party will have to be cut short."
Doctors 1-7 gathered away from the Eighth and tried to figure out what to do.
"Look how he was talking to the Master! He's definitely caught in a mess!"
"What could be a bigger mess than you blowing up Skaro?"
"Well, y'know what they say: All work and no play keeps the Doctor away."
"Oh shut up."
Ultimately, they did reach a decision. This was not their time nor their place to meddle. So instead, they gave the Eighth Doctor comfort.
"Look young man, I know things have gone far from what we originally intended, but you are still a doctor. And nothing more. Do not make yourself higher than that word, hmm!
The Second Doctor patted the Eighth Doctor on the back. "Here, for the worst of times and the best of times." He gave the Eighth Doctor his recorder, which the older Doctor gladly accepted, wondering what had happened to the instrument after the regeneration.
The Third Doctor gave him the blueprints of the Whomobile. Just in case.
The Fourth Doctor smiled. "I can tell that you are a good man. That is your strength, remember that. Never think of it as a weakness."
"Do no harm."
The Sixth Doctor... hugged him.
The Seventh Doctor saluted him and called him the cleverest man in the universe.
"You do know that you're talking about yourself right?"
"That's the idea."
They both laughed.
The Eighth Doctor hurried back to his TARDIS and took off, leaving the others behind, looking at the hill where the other five TARDISes should've shown up.
AUTHOR NOTES: Which incarnation of the Master was it? How did the Doctor not know he was resurrected in The Sound Of Drums? Timey wimey, that's how. Apologies to any classic series fans if I wrote a Doctor badly, I'm really not that familiar with some of them(particularly the Fourth Doctor hence why there's so little of him).
I should also note that this story was not meant to be serious when I started writing it. It just sort of took off.
The Ninth-? Doctors didn't show up for obvious reasons.