A/N: Because there is no way Steven Moffat isn't planning this for the 50th Anniversary. HUGE thank you to my incredible boyfriend Bludger1 for his amazing inspiration and wonderful title.
General Disclaimer: As I'd stick to paradox conundrums, I'm guessing I'm not Moffat.
"The one thing I don't understand?"
"Hmm?"
"Jammy dodgers." Clara emphasised every syllable, leaning against a railing as the TARDIS spun them off to where they ought to be. "Why?"
"What?" The Eleventh Doctor blinked up from the controls, concentration broken for horrified surprise. "They're brilliant! Pastry, jammy, dodgery—"
Bam!
As both were flung off their balance by the collision, it became apparent they were in dire need of at least the latter biscuit perfection. But rather than wasting any time on dessert concoctions, the Doctor was instantly jumping back to action, staring at the main screen in confusion. "What? It can't be…"
"What!" Clara, climbing back to her feet, spun her gaze around as the Doctor ran flat-out to the door. Racing after him she ducked to stare around his feet to the outside. What she first noticed was the tell-tale Nelson's Column, but almost instantly her confused expression fell into an outright gape.
Barely feet from them was a flying blue police box, complete with a glimpsed interior that was bigger on the inside. But Clara was far more concerned by the blonde girl leaning out of the side, struggling to reach a man hanging onto the bottom frame for dear life. …a foxy man, with a long trench coat and scruffy hair.
"YOU AND YOUR BLOODY 'ALL ON SEE'!" The other woman was screaming, more irritated than terrified.
"IT'S ALLONS-Y!" The man (a Time Lord and his Rose, Clara's new memories whispered) rebutted, swinging back and forth while trying to reach his companion.
"I DON'T CARE!"
"…oh bugger." The Eleventh Doctor blinked before slamming the door. He paused for a second, but quickly rushed back to the main console.
"Aren't we going to help?" Clara said in a strangled voice, reluctant to move, torn between the two. "It's, it's the Tenth—"
"I know!" The Doctor groaned, rubbing at his bow-tie as the TARDIS (creaking in disagreement) whirled away. "Or I didn't, actually, that's the problem. Forgot all about that! Convinced Rose was taking the mick for scaring her."
"That's, he's," Clara stammered, disbelieving that Eleven's saving-people-thing didn't include this, "he's going to fall!"
"Nope, not at all. Too early for me." He said with a partial return to his old cheer. Sending her a thin smile he waved away her protests. "Have to avoid paradoxes! Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey big balls of stuff, all sorts of confusing. Especially with that man! Collected barrels of complications by snogging anything that moved."
"Really now…" Clara's look was left unseen.
A/N: If Ten's only in the 50th as a cameo, I'll simultaneously cry and laugh hysterically.
TTTEEENNN! ALLONS-Y!