The Ninth Doctor
The first Doctor shook his head and spoke quietly, disdainfully to himself. "Unbelievable. Simply unbelievable".
His successor didn't notice, or didn't care about the disapproving tone of his former self. "So, how're you doin', pal? I've often wondered what you'd think of me, what kind of conversation we'd have. But I thought, 'nah, that'll never happen', so I put it to the back of my mind. But here, now, all I can say is: fantastic!"
At that point the minor rage finally erupted from the first Doctor. "Look at yourself, you fool! Just this afternoon I have witnessed all kind of abandonment of the principles I first established, but nothing like this! Why, you are nothing like me! Nothing like me at all!"
"Well granted the hair's a lot shorter, and I don't know quite why I need ears this big, but on the whole I think I got a decent deal in the last regeneration".
"I'm not talking about your face. Look at how you are dressed!"
The ninth Doctor pulled at the garment under his jacket. "What is wrong with this jumper?!"
"Not that, you fool! What about that leather jacket you are wearing! Why you look more like a U-Boot captain than a Doctor!"
The ninth Doctor beamed a wide grin. "You know, that isn't the first time someone's said that to me. Not that I'm a fan of U-Boots, of course, but at least it lets me blend in. With the crowd, you know". He beamed a little wider. "Almost like I'm carrying my own chameleon circuit around with me, all the time".
"But why? You are an academic. You come from a planet whose inhabitants are far superior than those of the earth. Yet you try to dress like one of them!"
"Well, I hadn't been to earth for quite some time before I regenerated". He paused and frowned. "At least, I don't think I had. Anyway, I'd been fighting in the War for so long…" His eyes thinned and a grim tone entered his voice. "I wasn't sure how much of me had survived. I remembered the earth, all the adventures I'd had there. But maybe, just maybe… I was beginning to think that perhaps I couldn't do it anymore".
"Do what?"
"What we always do: visit the earth. Make friends. Defend it. Protect it. I was hoping I could go back to my old life but I wasn't sure. The truth is, pal, I didn't want people to notice me. I dressed like this so that if it didn't work I could just fade away and go and live somewhere else. Is that such a bad thing?"
"Hrmph", acknowledged the first Doctor. "I do suppose war can change a man".
"Especially one who ends it like I did".
"So is this why you were so rash in taking your first human companion?"
"You mean Rose? Listen, she was one of the best. First time I ever met her she saved my life from a bunch of particularly nasty Autons".
"'Particularly nasty'? They were no threat. Your previous incarnations would have dispatched them far more efficiently".
"I managed to beat them, didn't I?"
"You couldn't even notice their transmitter!"
"I'd just regenerated! Anyway, it was big and there were lots of spokes and spaces. You can't blame me for something like that".
"But I can blame you for some of your other companions. What about Adam Mitchell?"
"Hey, that was Rose's choice. I'd been doing this years, she was new to it. Anyway, he's not much of a threat now. He lives in constant fear of people clicking their fingers. You know he used to be a big fan of the Addams Family?" The ninth Doctor beamed. "Well since our little misadventure he hasn't been able to watch a single episode!"
"Never mind the Mitchell boy. What about the Captain?"
"Captain Jack? Yeah, he never came over as someone I could trust, but he did help us out of a spot of bother. He was prepared to sacrifice his own life to get rid of a particularly nasty German bomb. Not many people I've known have been that brave".
"As opposed to yourself?"
"What? How do you mean?"
"How about your refusal to wipe out the hordes of Daleks invading the earth?"
"Listen, that delta wave would have destroyed every other life form as well as the Daleks. I couldn't do that, not again. And in the end, I didn't have to".
"Of course", sneered the first Doctor. "Your reliance on Rose Tyler…"
"Bad Wolf", the ninth Doctor corrected him.
"But to be blunt", went on the first Doctor, "your reliance on others topped that of all my successors".
"How do you mean?"
"Well, Rose Tyler saving your life against the Autons, the servant girl sacrificing herself to save you in Cardiff in 1869, Mickey Smith against the family Slitheen. You only survived your encounter with the Dalek in Utah due to its mutation".
The ninth Doctor frowned. "I haven't really thought about it like that. Maybe it's because I was just getting back into it. You know, like getting back into the saddle when you've had an accident. Finding your feet again. Maybe I just wasn't ready. But you know something?"
"What?"
"At least I tried".
"But what use is trying if you can only fail?"
"You never know you're gonna fail. Not before it happens anyway. Listen, you're the academic: isn't that the definition of bravery? Goin' up against something that could very well wipe you from existence? Not knowing how things are gonna turn out?
"My dear fellow, isn't that what I did all the time?"
"Yeah, but before you stole the TARDIS, you were just bored. Look at me. I was nine hundred years old. I'd just spent the last few decades fighting the Time War. I had baggage".
"Hence your jacket. And that ridiculous accent!"
"Yeah, I never knew quite where that came from. I have the strangest feeling that the last person I spoke to before I regenerated was a girl from the north of England, but that wouldn't make sense, would it? Anyhow, that doesn't matter. Look, what I'm tryin' to say is that I got back into the saddle even though I'd more than likely fail. But I didn't".
"You only survived through luck!"
"Nah. Like you said: I had Rose. She may not have had any A levels but she's probably calmer in a crisis than anyone else I've ever met. And giving my life to save hers at the end; that doesn't really sound like a failure, does it?"
For a long moment the first Doctor didn't speak. "I suppose in some measure you are correct. You had endured far more trauma than the rest of us. And it would have taken much courage to go back to what you used to do. Courage or stupidity, either in equal measure".
"Oi! Less with the stupidity! You know, it makes me cringe when I remember being you being so condescending. Why don't you lighten up, have some chips, throw yourself in? You never know, you may like it!"
"Preposterous to the last! I agree that you may have been coming back from an all time low, yet I remain totally unimpressed by your vulgarity".
"So, I suppose it's time, isn't it?" asked the ninth Doctor.
"You surmise correctly. Fish fingers and custard!"
With that the ninth Doctor vanished to be replaced by a younger looking man in a long beige coat and red and white sneakers. He had an angular face and spiked hair that didn't move as he looked at his predecessor. "Aww, this is great!" He sniffed in a breath of air and raised his voice an octave. "No, I mean it, I've been waiting for this… well, at least since I knew it was going to happen". He frowned. "Which isn't that long at all, really. Just most of this afternoon". He snapped back to attention. "Hang on, this is it, isn't it?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you're not just fast forwarding through me again in search of some fugue state conscious-suppressed Dalek-conquering warlord are you?"
"No, this is quite your time".
"Good! Because being a footnote once an afternoon is enough. Now. What is it you want to talk about?"