DISCLAIMER: Don't own Doctor Who, anything about it. Etc.

*

Exeter, Devon, United Kingdom, Sol 3 (residents' designation: Earth).

The Doctor, still in the old-fashioned shirt and red suspenders - complete with bow tie - of his predecessor, dashed through the city street, whooping loudly. Children pointed and laughed; old ladies crossed the street to avoid him. He did a little dance, hopping along, in the now ill-fitting outfit.

It was a Saturday, so the city centre was filled with teenagers and adults alike.

'Companion!' the Doctor whooped, spinning on one heel.

He darted over to the nearest group of people - reasonably well-dressed teens, luckily; if he ended up with a chav for a companion the Doctor would never forgive himself - grabbed the nearest one, a bleached blonde boy, by the shoulder, and pulled him away with a hard yank.

'What are you -'

'Want to travel in time?' the Doctor asked excitedly, a gigantic smile spreading across his face.

Strands of light brown hair fell in front of his eyes; the Doctor blew them away irritably, the gargantuan grin never faltering. Brown hair, he noted, having not examined himself fully yet.

'I… what?!' The young man, whom the Doctor realised was very nearly as tall as himself, putting his new height at just under six feet, stood unmoving, an expression of the utmost incredulity on his face.

'Time. Travel. Come on,' he said, and with that he strode away.

'But -'

'Nope. Come!'

The teenager ran around in front of the Doctor, gesticulating madly. 'No, no, no… prove it.'

'What?'

'Prove you can travel in time.'

'Fine,' the Doctor harrumphed, wondering why his new body was changing its moods so quickly.

He strode to the TARDIS, flung open the doors, and took half a step in. Then he took two steps back.

'You… oh, you lovely machine,' he said almost dreamily, and headed to the console.

The TARDIS had regenerated with the Doctor, its walls becoming a luminous blue with gold and silver beams and globules of reds and yellows splattered around. Spiralling stairs led to old, familiar rooms and new, strange ones.

The console shone with a bright energy, making the inside of the TARDIS brighter and lighter than it had ever been. The Doctor pulled a few switches, grinning as a new sonic screwdriver slid from a recess; he left it where it was for the time being.

'What?!'

The Doctor turned.

The teenager had followed him inside, and had the rough expression of a small child in a sweet factory - one that happened to be far bigger on the inside than the outside, of course.

'My TARDIS,' the Doctor beamed. 'Isn't she a beauty?'

'Who are you?' the boy gasped, taking his eyes from the glowing walls to stare at the Doctor.

'I don't know yet,' he replied honestly. And then, with a massive smile: 'I'm the Doctor.'

'Michael,' Michael introduced himself, looking as if he might faint.

'Go for it,' the Doctor told him cheerfully.

Michael fainted.

*

Michael came to not long after. He woke to see the Doctor's face inches above his own, staring intensely at him.

'I'm a teenager.'

Michael recoiled, which only caused him to hit his head on the hard floor.

'I'm a teenager!'

'Yes!' Michael pushed the Doctor away and stood up, leaning on a pillar for support. 'Didn't you know?!'

'Time Lord!' the Doctor shouted, throwing his hands around madly. 'I never know what I'm going to end up as!'

'Time - what?'

'Time Lord! I travel in time!' the Doctor almost screamed.

'Oh, yeah.' Michael's voice took on an almost mocking tone. 'Weren't you going to prove that?'

The Doctor smiled briefly. 'Open the doors.'

Michael crossed, somewhat hesitantly, to the doors, and cautiously pushed them open to reveal - nothing.

'What…?'

'That would be space. Specifically, space in the vicinity of Planet Earth, in the Year 2050.'

'No, it isn't.'

The Doctor blinked. 'What?'

Michael looked over his shoulder, leaning casually out of the door. 'This could be space, any year.'

The Doctor looked somewhat fazed. 'But… we're in space.'

Michael turned back to the vast emptiness. The Earth passed into view as they spun in orbit, before leaving their field of vision.

Then it hit him.

'I'm in space!'

'Yep.' The Doctor seemed pleased with himself. 'That's pretty cool, right?'

'Yes!' Michael gasped, with the obvious additional meaning: 'Obviously.'

'Well… you just watch that for a bit. Or do something. Eat. I don't know.'

'Where are you going?'

'I need new clothes. Quite liked Ten's style, might go for that again… I need a hat! Haven't had a hat since… ooh, Seven? What did he… Cane! No, too much…'

Michael looked down at himself as the Doctor babbled something about 'Five pulled off the celery look quite well', something telling him that his current attire - a sort of smart-casual shirt with black jeans and red Converse trainers - would probably prove highly unsuitable for space travel. 'Got any spares?' he asked.

'What?'

'You know. Clothes.'

The Doctor regarded him appraisingly. 'That'll do. I've had worse-dressed companions.'

'But… don't you travel in space? And stuff?'

'Oh, yeah, but… Pond! She did her first one in her nightie! I mean… seriously. That'll be fine.'

Michael shrugged. 'Whatever. Just don't get me killed.'

The Doctor made a flippant gesture and a sort of 'meh' sound. Michael thought it was probably meant to be reassuring, but whatever it was, it didn't work. The Time Lord bobbled off, leaving the teenager to stare out into his new life.

*

'Well?'

'You dress older than your age. Sort of,' Michael said.

'I'm almost a thousand years old. Everybody forgot how old I was on my last birthday, they did the old one-candle cake thing. Pfft.'

'A thousand…?'

'Time Lord,' the Doctor said thoughtfully. 'So what do you think?'

He was attired in a cream suit with a light blue shirt and a white tie, black Converses on his feet. A black fedora sat on his head, strands of his light-brown hair coming down over his forehead from under the hat; to top it off, he wore the long brown overcoat favoured by his tenth self.

'It's weird,' said Michael, and then he grinned, a sort of half-laugh escaping through his lips. 'But it kind of works.'

'Excellent,' said the Doctor, and flung the overcoat onto a hanger. 'Don't touch that - Janis Joplin gave me that coat.'

'Why…?'

'Just trying it out.'

Michael couldn't work the Doctor out. He looked around sixteen or seventeen, not much older - if at all - than Michael himself. But he talked like an older, much wiser man than his years suggested, even if he did seem prone to adolescent-style outbursts and mood swings.

The Doctor fiddled with a few switches, gesturing to Michael that he should come over.

'This,' he explained, 'is the TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Say hello.'

'Hello?' Michael complied, somewhat self-consciously.

'So.' The Doctor flicked one last switch, very much over-dramatically in Michael's opinion. 'Where to?'

*

Again, thanks for reading. Please review! If you want to suggest possible storylines or events or whatever, please do; I haven't really planned out anything so I could do with some ideas!

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Next time: The adventure begins! The new Doctor and Michael encounter their first opponent together, and the Doctor tries to work out who his new self will be.