A/N: I'm so tired. That's about it. Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Part Three

The Teacher

The woman with the curly ginger hair patted the top of Dorothy Ann's head as she left the classroom. The girl had just had a few extra questions, they had traveled the solar system today and Ms. Frizzle was quite pleased with the results.

She locked the door and entered her school bus, or should she say TARDIS. Being with the teachers and the students always made her call it 'the bus.'

Her TARDIS though, seemed to like being called 'the bus.' Or the old bus or the magic bus, or as most of her class called it 'the magic school bus.'

Ms. Frizzle shook her head, it wasn't magic. It was just Time Lord science. Ms. Frizzle leaned down and opened the panel on the bottom of the bus. She descended the stairs down the hatch. How could stairs fit in a panel at the bottom of a a bus?

Easy, bigger on the inside.

She yawned and leaned on the railing surrounding her shiny yellow console. She adored the class she was teaching, soon, however, she would have to leave. One tends to notice when a teacher stays in a school for a decade and never seems to age a day.

She would miss her students, Carlos, Ralph, Wanda, Phoebe, Arnold, and the others.

But they were well educated and they would grow up knowing the universe close up. Ms. Frizzle grinned as her bus hummed.

"Now, now, dear. Is Liz back?"

The bus hummed and the iguana scuttled forward. Ms. Frizzle grinned and reached down as Liz scrambled up her outstretched arms and onto her shoulder.

"Hello, Liz. You can talk now."

"Of course, mistress." Liz chirped robotically.

Liz or LIZ stood for Lizard Intelligence Zefron co. LIZCO just didn't sound as catchy as LIZ, so the company opted for LIZ.

Ms. Frizzle smiled, "What shall we do on our down time? Go the starlit moons of Bulbashnoid? Or maybe, the Eye of Orion. Perhaps we could try looking for the Lost Moon of Poosh again?"

Liz shrugged and said, "Whatever you want, mistress."

Ms. Frizzle sighed, "You know, one of these days I should get around to programming free will."

"Of course, mistress."

Ms. Frizzle's lips quirked into a smile, "Bulbashnoid it is!" And she pulled the steel lever down.