Traffic Laws

"Doctor, pay attention to the road, please!" begged Rose.

"Don't worry," he answered flippantly. "I'm a great driver. Besides, the TARDIS won't let us get into any trouble." Behind them, getting steadily louder, they heard a siren. The police car it was attached to came up alongside them. "Well, not any serious trouble," he added, hopefully. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Pull off!" Rose shouted.

"Oh," the Doctor replied. He pulled the car to the side of the road, and sat pouting as the officer got out of his car and motioned for the Doctor to roll down his window.

"Excuse me, sir, but you know that this is a thirty mile-per-hour zone, and you were going forty seven, correct?" the officer asked.

"Was I?" The Doctor looked disappointed.

Rose nudged him in the ribs as the officer slowly circled the car, peering in the windows. "Driving skills," she pointed out, "are not your strong point."

He gave her an outraged look. "I'm an excellent pilot!" he exclaimed.

She gave him a dubious look. "What about that time that you got me home a whole year later than you promised? Or the time we ended up in Scotland in 1879 instead of at the Ian Dury concert?"

"All right, fine," he conceded miserably, "But I'm usually very good."

"If I might interrupt?" the officer asked poking his head in. "I'm going to have to ask you to unlock the boot."

Rose and the Doctor shared a conspiratorial glance, trying to contain their sudden laughter. "Okay," said the Doctor, pressing the requisite button. "But I'm going to have to ask you to be careful."

"Got something you don't want me seeing in there?"

"No, not at all. Just…try to touch as little as possible. I can't guarantee that nothing will try to eat you or explode." The officer wisely chose not to take that as a direct threat, and lifted up the door. He stared at the contents, his mouth falling open unknowingly.

"What the hell…?" he said wonderingly. "What is all of this?"

"Spare parts, projects I'm working on, things like that. A bottle of ketchup; that's illegal on Raxacoricofallapatorius. But I probably shouldn't be telling you that. Oh, and my sundial! Remind me that it's there later, Rose."

"What's this?" the officer asked, grabbing a box with a mess of wires hanging out of it and holding it up for the Doctor to see.

"Oh, that's my toaster!" exclaimed the Doctor. "I'd been wondering where that had gotten off to."

"Your toaster," repeated the officer disbelievingly. "And this?" he picked up another gadget.

"It's a gravitational alignment flumonium reverser. Whatever you do, don't press the button on the side. I'd really much rather that you didn't destroy the entire solar system."

"How did you fit all this in here? It's like it's bigger on the inside."

"It is," the Doctor confirmed.

"Right," said the officer dubiously. "Well, I don't see anything illegal here…" he paused. "Well, nothing illegal in the United Kingdom, anyway—I can't comment on Raxawhatsis—but I'm still going to have to give you a ticket for speeding." The Doctor said nothing, just sat and looked miserable. "£60, and three points on your license. If you don't pay it within twenty eight days, the fine will go up."

"I'll try to remember, officer."

"See that you do. Go ahead, then." He motioned that they were free to leave. The Doctor nodded his thanks, and started that car.

They pulled away, the Doctor grumbling. "I knew it was a mistake to fix the Chameleon circuit. Things never go right when it's working."

"Things don't usually go right even when it's not. You're not going to pay that ticket, are you?"

"Shut up."