The Fright Zone was no place for a child. A labyrinth of rusty steam pipes, hanging live wires, puddles of toxic chemicals, rickety catwalks, and countless other dangers and hazards. If an OSHA Inspector ever showed up, he would have a massive coronary. The Inspector sent in to replace him would then board up every window and tape a 'condemned' sign in 96-point Futura Bold to the front door before leveling the complex with a tactical air strike.

A parent's worst nightmare. But kids love dangerous things, and there were no parents in the Fright Zone. Unless you thought of Shadow Weaver as a mother, and who in their right mind would think that? To Adora and Catra, unchaperoned and uncatchable, the place was a playground. Using an old, sparking electrical cable as a grappling rope, they scaled a thirty foot wall to an upper ledge. Then, shimmying up a pipe, they pulled themselves onto an exhaust port observation deck, the highest point in the Fright Zone. The main point of access, on old service lift, had broken down years ago. It was their fortress; no one could reach them up here.

"Did you see Octavia's face?" Catra asked. "She was like ' AAAAAHHH ! BETRAYAL!' Goody-Two-Shoes Adora just insulted me ?! I will have VENGEANCE!'"

"Hey!" Adora shoved her friend playfully. "I am not a goody-two-shoes."

"Compared to me, you are."

"Me and everyone else in the Fright Zone."

"You take that back!" Catra pounced on Adora, knocking them both over. After a few minutes of roughhousing they flopped out on the ground, side-by-side, laughing as they tried to catch their breaths.

Then, silence. At first it was a comfortable silence, the kind of silence that didn't need to be broken, because there was nothing to say. Everything was right. All was well.

That can only last so long.

There is an exact scientific point when a silence turns from fine to awkward: 35.78 seconds. Then anxiety sets in. What now? Should I speak? Maybe she'll say something. Why isn't she saying anything? There comes a compulsion to break this unbearable silence by any means necessary.

There were several choices, each as awkward as the last:

An interruption? No, we're the only ones up here. No worry of Shadow Weaver barging in, poison tongue flaring.

A heart-to-heart conversation? Adora, do you get spiders in your stomach when you're around me? Like I do around you?

Stars, no, anything but that.

A joke? Ok, but what kind of joke? Knock knock. Who's there? Adora. Adora who? I adora you.

No, no, no, no, NO.

A change of subject? Nice weather we're having? Can I kiss you?

What is wrong with you, Catra? Let me count the ways.

A distraction?

"What is that?" Adora asked, pointing to the sky.

Catra sat up and squinted into the darkness. "I...don't know."

Whatever it was, it was moving fast.

And getting closer.

Catra and Adora flattened themselves on the floor as the strange object roared out of the sky and over them, hitting a rail and turning it to scrap metal. It went into an uncontrolled dive, spinning wildly before crashing through a roof below and impacting the ground.

Adora and Catra ran to the edge and peered over. "Do you know where it landed?" Catra asked.

"Storage Bay E, I think," Adora replied as she tried to orient herself to the floorplan of the district. "What was that? A princess attack?" Catra asked.

"Let's find out!" Before Adora could stop her, Catra jumped over the edge, grabbed onto a pipe and went sliding down. Adora was forced to follow her.

It took them several minutes to reach the crash site. It seemed that no one else in the Fright Zone had noticed the intruder, as Storage Bay E was empty when Adora and Catra got there.

Empty, that is, but for a strange, blue box that was lying on its side in the middle of the room.

"What is it?" Catra asked.

Adora grabbed Catra and pulled her back. "Don't! It could be a bomb!"

"It hasn't exploded, has it?"

As soon as the words had left Catra's lips there was a loud bang. Catra flew into the air and landed behind Adora on all fours, her tail puffed up.

The door of the blue box had been flung open. Then, a grappling hook flew up and caught itself on the doorframe. After a few moments, a hand appeared. Then two. Then a face.

"Can I have an apple?"

Adora and Catra shared a look. "An apple?"

"All I can think about," the man continued as he hauled himself out of the blue box. "Are apples."

Neither of the two girls had heard of an apple, much less seen one. There certainly weren't any in the Fright Zone. "Uhhhh, will Horde rations do?"

The Doctor shoveled a handful of grey glop into his mouth. Adora and Catra watched with a mixture of awe and disgust. "Wow, I don't know what this is, but it is delicious!"

"That's the first time anyone's called the rations delicious," Catra remarked.

"What's it made of?"

"No one knows," Adora replied.

"No one wants to know," Catra added.

"Well, I think it's brilliant, and I'll have to get the recipe." He set down the plate and looked across the table at the two kids. "Thanks. Regeneration takes a lot of energy out of oneself. Leaves you absolutely starving. So, what're your names?"

"Why should we tell you?" Catra asked, folding her arms.

"Well, I can't just call you Wildcat and the Funny-Looking-One. That would be rude.

"Why am I the funny-looking one?" Adora asked.

"Because you're slightly glowing." Adora looked down at herself. She was certainly not glowing. "You might want to get that checked out. I'd give you an examination but I seem to have lost my screwdriver."

"I'm Adora."

"Ah, Adora! Good name. So what's yours?

"I'm not telling you anything. You could be a spy for the Rebellion."

"Oh, I may be a rebel, but I'm a rebel among rebels. I rebel against rebellions."

"So who are you?" Adora asked.

"I'm the Doctor."

"Doctor who?"

The Doctor smiled. "Yes, exactly."

"Weirdo ," Catra muttered.

"Alright, now that I've introduced myself, what's your name, Wildcat?"

Catra remained silent. "Her name's Catra," Adora said.

"Pleasure to meet you, Adora and Catra." The Doctor stood up and walked to the window. Outside he saw the smokestacks and towers of heavy industry, as well as the gun placements and search-lights of a military installation. "What is this place?"

"The Fright Zone," Adora replied.

"Terrible name," the Doctor remarked. "Sounds verrrry ominous."

"You've never heard of the Fright Zone?" Catra narrowed her eyes. "It's the headquarters of the Horde."

"The Horde? Another awful name. Just screams big, evil lair. And what planet is this?"

"Etheria."

The Doctor clapped his hands. "Ah! Now there's a nice name. Etheria. Hmmm, never heard of it."

Catra and Adora stared at the Doctor like he was some strange, adult-sized child. "How can you not know any of this?" Catra asked.

"I don't know a lot of things, but I'm always willing to learn. I'm from another planet, you see. That's my spaceship in the other room." Suddenly he shot up from his chair. "The ship!" Before they could stop him he was out the door. They took off after him.

They followed him back to the warehouse, where they found him peering down into the Blue Box through the doorway.

"I've never seen a spaceship before," Adora said, eyes sparkling.

"Not very impressive," Catra muttered. "It's just a little blue box."

"It's bigger than it looks," the Doctor said. "And it's not just a spaceship. It's a time machine, too."

"Can we see it?"

"It's a little—" he peered in. "—on fire at the moment. And flooded. But I can fix that easily enough." The Doctor rubbed his chin, and a childish grin spread across his face. "Or, I can do even better than that: I can give you a free trip!"

"Really?"

"Really. I can show you all that happened and that will happen, the stars of distant solar systems—

"What's a star?" Adora asked.

"Big shiny things in the sky." The two girls looked at the Doctor with blank stares. "You've never seen a star?"

"Uhhhh," Adora recovered. "Psh, yeah we have," she said. "We've seen hundreds."

"Well, you'll get to see them up close. Massive things, big and hot and beautiful. You'll need sunglasses, though. Stare too long and you'll go blind, as mums across the universe always say."

Adora was positively vibrating in excitement. Catra grabbed her by the hand. "Just a second, Doc." She led her friend out of the Doctor's earshot. "This guy is completely crazy—"

"Let's do it!"

"Ok, you both are crazy. Why should we trust anything he says?" She cast a suspicious glance back to the Doctor.

"Catra," Adora said, pulling her friend closer. "If we go with him, we never have to come back. We'll never have to deal with Shadow Weaver again. We'll be able to eat normal food. We'll see so many cool things, like those star things he was talking about."

After a few seconds, Catra's scowl faded. "Anywhere without Shadow Weaver is better than here." She turned back to the Doctor. "Okay, we're in!"

"Fantastic!" The Doctor hitched one leg over the edge of the door. "I just need to get in there, take care of the fire, and test her out to make sure she's not going to explode on us. Get your things ready, I'll be back in five minutes!" He hitched his other leg over and pushed off, vanishing from sight. "Geronimo!" After a few seconds they heard a distant splash, and then the box's doors slammed shut.

Adora hugged Catra tight, laughing. "Let's go get packed!"

They ran out of the room to their dormitories. "So long, Fright Zone!" Catra shouted. "And good riddance!"

When the room was empty, a wheezing, groaning sound filled the air. Then, like a polaroid photo in reverse, the TARDIS faded away, until all that was left was the gaping hole in the wall and the strange, unpleasant aromas of smoke and pool chlorine.

The Doctor activated the sprinkler systems and flushed out the swimming pool. "There we are, old girl. Right as rain." He paused and observed the completely destroyed control room. "Well, maybe not. I think some redecorating is in order—Oh!" He knelt down and picked something off the ground. "My screwdriver!" He tested it out, smacking it a few times as the glowing light wavered. "I think you're in need of a little maintenance, too."

Hmm, I'm talking to myself. Is that my new thing, talking to myself? Something to mull over, I suppose.

His attention turned to the two kids he had just met. Strange ones, they were, or at least the blonde girl was. Catgirls? He'd met catgirls before, they were all over the universe. But Indira? No, that wasn't her name. Adora! Yes, there was something funny about her: the energy pulsing around her had been a dead giveaway. If he'd had his screwdriver with him, he'd've done some tests. He'd definitely have to investigate further.

But first, the TARDIS.

He turned back to the console and pulled a few switches. "Alright, let's give you a test drive." He pulled down the lever and was staggered as the TARDIS juddered to a halt. "That's not right." He ran his eyes over the readings on the screen. "Something's trying to keep us in this solar system. Well, when in doubt," He slammed the throttle forward. "Full power!"

Then the TARDIS exploded.

He was in a clearing, surrounded by deep woods. Before him was a sword, stuck into the ground and wrapped up in vines. It was glowing, pulsing. He took a step forward only to jump back as a ring of blue fire surrounded the sword.

Then he saw her. A tall woman in white, wearing a jeweled crown. She entered the circle, untouched by the fire, and approached the center. Effortlessly, she pulled the sword out of the earth and the vines and held it over her head.

Someone whispered in his ear, the words spinning through his mind like a gust of wind. "She-Ra."

When The Doctor regained consciousness, the control room was on fire. Again. At least he'd drained the pool out. He crawled across the uneven floor towards the door, coughing from the thick smoke that was slowly filling the room. The door was stuck fast, he had to throw his weight against it twice before it broke open and spilled him onto soft grass. He had the discomforting feeling of being on fire. He looked down at his left coat sleeve. Why, yes, he was on fire. Hurriedly he pulled off his jacket and tossed it aside.

A scraping, groaning sound broke him from his stupor. "No!" He rolled over and watched in horror as the TARDIS doors slammed shut. Then the TARDIS, fading in and out, dematerialized into oblivion.

The Doctor pushed himself off the ground and staggered forwards until he was standing in the patch of flattened grass where his ship had stood only moments before. He had lost his sand shoes in the crash, and the ground was still warm and wet underfoot. "No," he whispered. He ran his hands through his long brown hair (what an unfamiliar sensation) and groaned. Why couldn't he go through one regeneration without some catastrophe?

How can this day get any worse?

He immediately regretted thinking that. Time had proven to him again and again that things could always get worse. In fact, just by saying How can this day get any worse , the odds of the day getting any worse increased triple-fold.

Therefore, he was not unsurprised to turn around and receive a sucker-punch to the face.