I own nothing. Least of all this.

1:4

He blinked once. Twice.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, a single word escaped his lips.

"What."

I sighed. Honestly, I don't know what I expected. For the time being (hah!), this was my show. I was the one that was supposed to be doing the bantering. Well, when in Rome…

I repeated the question.

"Would you care for some tea?"

He blinked again.

"Tea."

I nodded. "And Jammie Dodgers. Can't forget those, they're very important."

"Jammie Dodgers."

"Yes, you know, round biscuits with a little red…"

"Yes, I know what Jammie Dodgers are, thank you!"

"Ah, so you are capable of talking in more than simple phrases! I was beginning to be a tiny bit concerned."

"Who are you. How did you get here. And can you please TURN THAT RACKET OFF!"

I frowned. "I'd forgotten how rude you can be when you're cross. And I'll have you know that 'racket', as you called it, is some of the best music the Earth has ever produced. Honestly," I turned to the console, "how on Gallifrey do you put up with him? Such terrible taste."

The TARDIS made a decidedly derogatory *Blarp* that affirmed my opinion. All while the Doctor stood there, dumbfounded.

I was loving this.

I finally took pity on the poor man. "If you want an explanation, then by all means, you shall have one. But I insist on tea in the meantime. After all, I did put a good deal of work into it. Well, three minutes of work, but who's counting."

The Doctor slowly made his way over to the chair opposite mine, and sat. He swallowed. "Seven sugars, if you don't mind."

"Of course. I expected it."

Tea poured into his cup, promptly followed by the requested sugar.

"Now then. You asked four questions. I can answer three, but if you insist on turning off the 'racket', as you call it, I'm afraid you'll have to take that up with Sexy."

His eyes widened.

"Yes, I'm well aware of what you call your TARDIS. I have to say, it's a very fitting name."

The Doctor nodded, and raised his screwdriver. Ah, I loved that whirring. The rhythm of the Beatles rapidly gave way to silence.

Silence. I shuddered. Not something worth dwelling on, not until much later at the very least. I continued.

"Three questions left. I shall try and answer them in the reverse order of their asking. And please, no interruptions. 'What's all this' is, or was, tea. A setting I thought would indicate my desire for decorum and civilized conversation. How did I get here? Well Doctor, to be blunt, did you really think an explosion capable of collapsing your entire universe would merely wobble the ones next door? We had Cracks too. Fell through one, and here I am. And no, I'm not going to tell you how, for one simple reason: Spoilers. My timeline is a few years ahead of yours, and there are certain things you just shouldn't ask about."

His eyes flashed again. "Does that mean… "

"Ah, ah, ah, no interruptions. But I think I can guess what you were going to ask, and no, I am most definitely not my universe's version of you. Or any other Time Lord you knew, for that matter."

"But you are a Time Lord?"

I couldn't help but hear the hope in his voice. The hope that he wasn't the only one left after all. Oh, if only he knew. Still, he deserved an answer.

"Yes. I am a Time Lord. Or what passes for one in this reality. And that leads right into your third question: Who am I? You know I can't just give you my name, Doctor. Not without getting yours in return. But as to who I am? I am…"

My voice trailed off.

Who was I now?

A Hunter? A Demon? Something more, something less?

I absentmindedly tossed my Jammie Dodger in the air, like a coin. A coin…

I had it.

This reality already had a man who stopped the monsters. Maybe now, it needed one who hunted them.

"The Witcher. I am... the Witcher."