Ten Moments

By golden orange

Chapter summary: The Second Doctor's moment.

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Two: "Vacation"

"Well, my word, that was a tricky business and no mistake, wasn't it? Yes, I think we could all do with a little breather after that one." The Doctor fusses around the console, flicking at the buttons and screens with his handkerchief; it doesn't so much clean it as spread the dust around. After a few minutes of fussy dusting, he forgets all about it and stuffs the handkerchief back in the pocket of his frock coat.

"Yes, yes, I think a nice little holiday is order, yes." The Doctor claps his hands together and smiles at his friends. "Well then, why don't one of you pick; where shall we go?"

Across the console, Jamie folds his arms together and looks at the Doctor with an expression of resigned scepticism. "I don't ken why ye ask us in the first place, Doctor, as we all know the chances of ye getting us to where ye say we're goin' are so unlikely as to be near impossible."

The Doctor glares at him. "Eh? What do you mean by that?"

"Ah, why Doctor, we all know ye cannae control the TARDIS te save ye life. And it's not like there've no been times where ye've had to do just that, and look what's happened!"

"Now, steady on, Jamie…" Zoe admonishes, all too aware of where this is likely to end up. "It's not like the Doctor doesn't try to get to the right place, he just… can't, that's all." She adds loyally.

This doesn't help. "Oh — oh, my, no! Can't control it, indeed?" The Doctor splutters, wringing his hands irately. The very rudeness! Jamie and Zoe shouldn't be saying things like that, not in the slightest!

It's more true than the Doctor would like to admit, to be fair, but even so, they still shouldn't say it.

"Of course I can control it!" he snaps. Jamie's expression is more sceptical, if such a thing is possible, and it's that which finally sets the Doctor off. "Right! I'll show the pair of you! Can't control it, indeed!" The Doctor's hands are a flurry over the TARDIS console; deep within the endless depths of the ship, the engines grind away and force the TARDIS out of space and time. "Paris, 1889! That's where we're going!" He looks up and scowls petulantly at Jamie and Zoe, as if daring them to question him or his piloting.

They eventually end up on a beach in Florana in the ninety-third century, as the twin suns are setting. But, as the Doctor insists, it's close enough, and at least there's ice cream.