Doctor Who
BodySwap
Featuring The Ninth Doctor and Tenth Doctor
Written By Mark Lomas
Prologue
"We are waiting for the long-promised invasion. So are the fishes" –Winston Churchill
The following takes place between Journey's End and The Next Doctor
The night air was heavy with the threat of impending rain. The wind told the same story, blowing up sand off the beach and scattering it across the coast amid the night air. A small beacon of yellow light illuminating the cliffs and sea revealed the dominance of the Poseidon lighthouse, correctly named after the devastating sea god of ancient mythology.
Despite the gathering grey rain clouds and mist gathering in the stagnant air, she was, for the first time in a long time, at peace. The impending threat which had arrived at the preverbal gates had vanished into the rushing wind, and peace had been restored. There was nothing but mellow thoughts and peace and happiness in her mind. There was nothing but peace in coastal town of Littlerock Bay and the surrounding area.
Suddenly, something seemed to rip the very air from the sky as burning hot forks of danger injected into the mind of everyone in the town. Doors and windows burst open almost in unison as the rainclouds began to cry almost in sympathy. At first it was a light drizzle, but it soon picked up in pitch and velocity as danger seemed to crawl ever closer.
No one knew what the danger was, or what form it would ultimately take. Questioning glances and puzzled looks were exchanged as the streets began to fill with residents in various stages of bedtime undress. There were no words to describe what was hanging on the very air they breathed, but its intent was in no doubt.
Danger was looming and descending on the small town famous for rock candy and very little else save the lighthouse. Almost as if it could feel the sorrow soaking within the damp sand and even wilder waves, all power seemed to die as power died from within. The god Poseidon was angered for what was going to transpire.
The girl by the cliffs looked up into the rain and silently prayed, hoping that her voice would carry enough to reach the ears of those who could aid them. Their glorious and divine leaders, with the powers of a god and the touch of a fallen star. Blazing light appeared almost at once amid the waves below, as people began to descend to the beach.
On their knees in the damp sand, citizens of all ages prayed to gods they knew everything about and shared their protection. Shapes began to emerge from the swirling waves, which had gathered momentum as the danger had gotten closer. God-like voices spoke in angelic and almost alien tones, promising retribution and divine protection from the threat to their very well of life.
-Doctor Who-
In the very currents of the space time vortex, amid the fragmented moments of shattered timelines, a blue shape surfed as if guided by skilled hands. The blue box and magic and delight rocked backwards and forwards as it was buffeted by time winds, but it was soon shooting off again into time unknown. The last TARDIS; the last child of Gallifrey; the last of the Time Lords.
Inside the Time And Relative Dimensions In Space machine, all was quiet. The mellow glow of green bounced off and match perfectly with the coral design of the central console and adjoining struts. Atop the console, moving rhythmically up and down in time with the groans of the machine, the time column pushed itself through the folds of the space time continuum. It too was green, and cast long and distorted shadows across the mesh platform.
A blur of blue moved in motion around the central console, flicking and clicking buttons whose purposes were known only to its pilot. The Doctor, last of the Time Lords, moved around the console and picked up a hammer hanging off it and began banging in a mix of anger and enjoyment. A head of scruffy brown hair sat atop a thin face and frame dressed in a scruffy blue pinstripe suit finished off with red trainers. He usually wore a tie, but it sat discarded wrapped around a pull switch. He wore an open red shirt with a light gray t-shirt under his suit, which gave off a casual and somewhat scruffy appearance.
A loud groan emitted from the time column, and The Doctor glanced up from his work and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. When a second groan echoed in the cavernous control room, he was back at the controls and speaking to himself before he confused himself and banged his hammer on a panel of the console again.
"What's the matter with you, eh?" he asked, running his hand through his hair.
Pulling the display screen before him, he went into his suit pocket and produced a pair of dark tortoise-shell rectangle frame glasses and slipped them on, looking behind them with curiosity. The Gallifryan symbols for the planet, year and time-zone flashed before his eyes and the Doctor pulled a confused face.
"I could do with a little holiday" he replied to no-one, removing his glasses.
-Doctor Who-
He had arrived hours before and avoided any unwanted attention. The salty sea air had singed his nose and caused his ears to tingle, but there was something else lying heavy on his hearts. Everything was too quiet, too peace and too perfect. There was no sign of the usual Friday night trouble you found everywhere, no drunks puking outside pubs or teenagers spray painting. It was serene but odd in the same syllable.
The TARDIS had dropped him off a few miles along the coast outside the village, so he'd walked all the way and watched the sun set behind the local lighthouse. Dusk had settled in almost immediately, and he had been startled somewhat by the first scarecrow that he's caught sight of. It wasn't this regenerations tendency to jump at shadows, but something about the air and dusk was alien and interfered with his usual temperaments.
It had been warm enough to walk without his leather jacket when he'd started the walk, but he'd been forced to put it on as dusk as settle in and the air turned to ice and frost. He didn't shiver but he felt a chill in his bones just behind his kneecaps and elbows and that could and had affected his performance in the past. It had worsened as he'd approached the village and examined the roadsign stating such with his sonic screwdriver.
There was certainly something odd about the village, but his sonic screwdriver couldn't pinpoint its exact location or origin. He'd have to enter and find out for himself; otherwise he'd followed his TARDIS' lead for nothing. He's simply been floating in the time vortex as usual with no determined location when he'd literally been dragged to the here and now by something in the area. With nothing better to do he'd simply followed his nose.
A short walk led him into the town square, a huge decorative water fountain adorning the centre. From there, he could view the whole square and see that it was literally the centre of the village. From here, he could see the local pub (The Sheppard's Bush), the school, post office and bus stop. By standing on a bench, he could see over these buildings and see that the housing was located behind in a square pattern with wide streets in-between. It was self-enclosed community.
"Welcome to Summerisle" he muttered to himself, shoving his hands into his pockets and walking towards the coast.
-Doctor Who-
The gods had spoken of retribution for the disturbance, and returned to the sea and beyond. Still knelt-down in the sand, there were oblivious to the leather jacket-clad figure standing on the cliff edge above, crouched down looking through binoculars. A light blue glow emitting from his sonic screwdriver was the only clue he was there, but he'd retired from edge long before people in their pyjamas began to return to their homes.
"I could do with a little holiday" he replied to no-one, replacing his sonic screwdriver in his pocket.