Note: If the idea of a dead Doctor bothers you, don't worry. Just like in the show, he always comes back like a bad penny. The Master, in the meantime, attempts to fill his shoes.

[0000]

The bearded man opened the door to his blue box, leading us inside a massive domed room.

Like a clown car at a circus, the box was larger on the interior than the exterior, the layout resembling that of a planetarium with the house lights on and its illusionary stars removed. All around its circumference were bookshelves, but many contained only tools, electronics parts and strange artifacts from all over the galaxy. An impressive collection of paintings and books stood on the upper tier.

In the center of this place, there stood a moon chair, and in front of this a desk covered in computer monitors, dials, knobs and switches. Amorphous blobs of glowing light rose up in hypnotic patterns from a disk in its center like wax in a lava lamp.

"The cave you found me in is a very unsafe area of little strategic value," I said to the owner of this strange vehicle. "Why did you come here?"

The man leaned against the desk. "One of the peculiarities of this Type 40 TARDIS is its penchant for going wherever and whenever it bloody wants. You try to travel back to 1521 to watch the Spaniards decimate the Aztecs and you end up in Dalek central."

He seated himself in the moon chair, gesturing to a break in the shelving to my right. "There's some velociraptor steaks in the refrigerator. You might want to cut slices off and make a sandwich, as they're a tad thick."

The Master frowned as my boyfriend felt around for a bench and sat down.

Rob's eyes were still a little milk white, unseeing. "What's wrong with him?"

"He got stung by something in the tunnels. I gave him an antidote, but I'm not sure it's working."

The man smirked at me. "Does he know?"

I blushed. "I...don't know. I mean, he should."

The Master shook his finger, but he was grinning. "You must let me know if and when he can see again. His reaction is going to be priceless."

"So that's what this is, then?" I said, somewhat infuriated. "Entertainment?"

He rolled his eyes. "Why else would I take you aboard to ride for free?"

My face felt hot. "Because you're a decent gentleman!"

"How little you know."

"Well, I guess I should be glad you decided to pick us up at all."

The Master patted me on the shoulder. "There's the style."

I stared at him as he flipped switches and squinted at monitors. Even though he had invited us onboard simply for his amusement, it didn't quite match up to the files I had examined. "I've heard stories about you. You sounded cruel and evil."

The man chuckled. "You can't always believe everything you hear."

The infant was wailing. "Speaking of which, forgive me if I doubt your story about The Doctor being dead."

The Master got up, leading me between a pair of red sculptures that looked like mammoth tusks growing out of the floor.

We passed through a row of shelves filled with otherworldly gadgets, turned into an alcove, and I saw him.

The Doctor, the hated enemy of the Daleks, in his seventh incarnation, a small little man with a pointy nose, thick eyebrows, in his tan blazer and a sweater patterned with question marks.

A bloody jagged hole formed the mouth of a tunneling wound that bore through his chest and out his back. A huge block of ice preserved the body from decomposition.

"He failed to regenerate," The Master said. "I don't really understand it. My only guess is that he ran out. Even a Time Lord is not eternal."

He placed a palm on the ice. "Now that he is gone, I have begun to question myself, and who I am."

The infant wailed again.

"I have no baby formula that I'm aware of," The Master said. "To paraphrase a quote from an early Methodist minister, `Kindly give that child a potato.'"

"I'll do what I can," I told him. "Would it trouble you too much if I ran back and rescued a few more of them?"

The man rubbed his face in frustration. "I-"

Before he could finish the thought, I heard a loud bang, and the whole chamber shook like an earthquake had hit it.

"You didn't tell me you had brought along company!" The Master exclaimed.

He rushed to his console, flipping levers and pushing buttons.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"My frozen friend was a fan of running and hiding."

He pulled a hidden catch under the desk, drawing out a .308 CETME Battle Rifle. "I, on the other hand, prefer a more direct approach."

He handed me a Winchester 12 gauge and an ammo belt. "Here. Make yourself useful."

I frowned. "I'm holding a baby."

The Master gestured to Rob. "He's not doing anything. Give it to him. I'm certain he won't mind the practice."

With a shrug, I brought the infant to my boyfriend, placing it on his lap.

He looked at it, looked at me, then he screamed.

Rob had regained his sight.