I've edited Chapters 18 to include a mention of Eve. She disappeared from the story without explanation. See notes on the bottom of this chapter for what I changed.

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The Master slowly raised his hands. "I...believe you are...unfamiliar with my sordid reputation. Time is my enemy. I do things in my own interest, and I lie when it suits me. I had no intention of destroying you. I merely wanted the TARDIS for my own nefarious ends, and would say anything to your father if it meant getting it back."

"Hey!" I shouted, flushing red in the face. "I trusted you!"

"Shut up!" The both of them barked at me.

"Personally," the man continued. "I don't care if you exist or not, your rather disturbing rant non-withstanding. Put the weapon down."

Tharg frowned, slowly moving the object away from The Master's forehead. "How can I know I can trust you?"

The Master shrugged. "You can't."

Tharg hesitated.

"...But as I already stated, I have no interest in fixing time. I only want to rule the galaxy. What happens to the dinosaurs, or mankind, or you, does not concern me. Stay out of my business and I'll stay out of yours...As long as I have access to your TARDIS, of course."

Tharg narrowed all three eyes, but set down the laser.

Quick as a flash, The Master kicked my son like a football, snatched up the blaster, attempted to fire it.

Although still hurting from the betrayal, I held on to hope that maybe the sinister dark lord might find it in his heart to give favors to a loyal helper. "That's coded to a Dalek body. You can't—"

The Master raised the weapon, smashing it down on my son's head.

"What are you doing to my son!" My wife shouted from a nearby corridor.

I turned to face her. "Eve! We've found a guy who can help us fix—"

As Tharg groaned on the floor, The Master drew a pistol and shot my boy three times in the head.

"Apologies. I had a blaster to my head. I take that very personally."

My stomach flip-flopped. That had been my son, yet I'd fathered a bad seed.

"Tharg! No!" my wife screamed.

In a wild fury, she charged across the room like a raging banshee in some kind of Viking movie, a knife in each hand.

The Master, appearing to be used to this kind of attack, calmly spun toward her and emptied his gun into her.

My wife shrieked and fell to the floor bleeding.

The Master casually pocketed the weapon. "Never bring knives to a gunfight."

I rushed to my wife's side. Blood the color of fabric softener poured from her open wounds, dampening her party dress.

It seemed the Daleks had changed more of her physiology than I originally thought.

All three of her eyes gazed back at me. "I thought you loved me."

"I...do. But I also love freedom and humanity. I'm sorry."

Her hand shakily reached up, stroking my face. "You look cute with a beak."

She coughed up blue blood. "Some superior species, huh? Jumped right into the path of bullets, and I die just like a human."

I clutched her flipper, glanced back at The Master, hoping he could help...somehow, but angry mechanical voices told me he had more important things to take care of.

The man dashed to the side of the corridor my wife had entered through, ripped a Frisbee thing off the wall, and fiddled with the wires within. An automatic door came sliding down.

A good thing, too, for a second later, a pair of Daleks rolled up the tunnel.

"EXTERMINATE!"

A laser blast erupted from a cannon, but by that time the door had reached The Master's waist level, and the shot hit the door instead. Several more flashes erupted as the door lowered to the floor.

I looked at Luke. "Kid, you know any first aid?"

The boy frowned at my wife. "She's dead."

Crying, I kissed her next to her third eye.

Clomp. The door hit the floor plate. The Master yanked out wires, then rushed to a second tunnel entrance on the other side of the console, doing the same operation.

As that door rolled down, he loaded bullets into his gun.

He ducked and fired under the slowly moving door. "Again, my profuse apologies. Once time is repaired, this will all go away."

The door closed, and he rushed to the console.

"Did you...mean what you said?"

The Master sighed. "Truthfully? I don't know. I suspect there will be more of those things, and it hampers my ability to dominate...anything. This problem does need to be fixed."

He studied the controls in silence for a moment. "Damn thing always changes," I heard him mutter to himself.

Luke stared at me. "The Doctor would never shoot anyone in the head with a pistol. Neither would my mother."

"Maybe that's why..." I didn't want to give offense. "The Doctor's dead."

I thought I heard The Master chuckle. Maybe he coughed, I don't know.

He flipped some switches, pressing buttons and flicking levers.

I leaned in close, to see what he was doing, but the man yelled, "Don't touch anything, you bumbling simpleton!"

I raised my hands like being held at gunpoint. "You...need my address or anything?"

"Thankfully, I have been keeping tabs on The Doctor, so I don't have to rely on misremembered details, except possibly your address."

I frowned. "Couldn't you...just go to Skaro and stop the Daleks from stealing the TARDIS?"

He looked at me like I were crazy.

"Okay, what about back before velociraptors got into the machine?"

"When you asked me to solve your problems, I thought you wanted me to solve your problems."

"Fine," I sighed, giving him my address.

He actually finished my sentence, because the location happened to be in the computer already.

A glowing spot appeared on the door The Master had closed. I pointed. "Um, should I be worried about that?"

For once, he actually looked alarmed. He swallowed, sweat breaking out on his face. "Possibly."

He opened a panel, turned some knobs inside a compartment, pushed buttons.

"What are you doing now?"

"As you may or may not have noticed, this TARDIS is full of Daleks, and I don't have a way to easily dispose of them. Our best hope is to set a self destruct sequence and get into the past version of this TARDIS before you place your grubby paws on the equipment."

My eyes widened in horror. "Self destruct? Really? This thing has, what, a fusion reactor or something? You planning to blow my neighbors to kingdom come?"

"Of course I'm not, you moron! The TARDIS is not so easily obliterated! I'm locking the controls and setting it on automatic course for the heart of the sun!"

The glowing circle on the door grew larger. "Hurry!"

"What do you think I've been trying to do, you ignorant fool? If you hadn't been jabbering at me, I would have been finished already!"

A few more jazz movements on the console, and our vehicle shifted and rocked, making those characteristic grinding noises.

Sparks shot out of the door now, an actual hole developing in the center of the glowing circle.

Boom! We thudded down somewhere, and The Master threw open the door.

He drew his gun from his pocket.

"Hey!" I cried. "What are you doing with that?"

"It's possible someone beat us here." He rushed outside.

I ran after, froze when he fired a shot.

We had landed in the green field next to my apartment building, but we faced no enemy.

The Master fired at me.

Past Me screamed as a bullet tore through my leg.

I screamed as a scar appeared on my own leg. "Hey! Why are you shooting at me, you bastard!"

"You're getting away!"

Indeed, he had caught Past Me just seconds before I stepped inside the TARDIS.

As my brain slowly registered this, The Master sprinted across the field, diving through the TARDIS door. I ran after him, to make sure he didn't kill me.

"Wait!" Luke called after me.

I stopped, turned to face the other TARDIS.

"EXTERMINATE!"

Luke ducked, and a laser beam singed his hair and feathers. He jumped out, smoking, into the apartment yard. A Dish Network receiver exploded.

A laser cannon turned my way. I hustled across the field in a zig-zag, hoping to throw off their aim.

A shot nearly ended me, but I stumbled over the Doctor's body, and as a second blast came from that quarter, the TARDIS made grinding noises. Mechanical voices let out a type of frustrated scream I'd never heard before.

The machine and its contents vanished.

Not sure what would happen to a TARDIS within a TARDIS inside the sun, but I never got to find out.

I picked myself back up, rushing into the TARDIS I'd found at the beginning of this story, Luke trailing behind on his bird legs.

Past Me, with a bleeding leg had just reached the far corridor, The Master waving the pistol as he chased after him.

"Hey!" I called when I passed the threshold. "Don't kill me! I'm known to surrender peacefully, especially at gunpoint!"

He didn't stop. "I'll keep that in mind!"

"Leave him! He doesn't know how to use the console...or anything!"

The man froze. "Excellent point. I had been concerned with expelling him from the TARDIS, but you're right. The console needs to be guarded above all else. Do be so kind as to eject both your selves from the premises, so I can keep your incompetent hands away from it."

"Incompetent...that's...fair." I cleared my throat. "Yes, sir...You did get me away from the console before I started playing with it, right? That's the important thing."

The Master nodded. "You were to frightened of getting shot."

"Great. Thank you." I hurried down the corridor, to find myself.

Past Me, although bleeding and trying to escape, followed the same pre-determined route.

"Hey!" I called. "Stop!"

I think Past Me noticed my weird bird-like features and got scared. He ran past the library/pool, bowling alley and chem-lab, entering that junk room again.

Past Me obviously sought bandages, but came across the pheromone bomb instead.

"Hey!" I shouted. "Don't touch that! It's dangerous!"

"Who the hell are you?" my old self asked.

"I'm you."

"Wow. This is great theater. Why would I become a bird? And why did that devil guy back there shoot me with a real bullet?"

"Because I'm an idiot and I'm about to ruin time."

"You might be an idiot, but I'm not! Great show, by the way...got some bandages or first aid equipment so I don't bleed to death?"

"Get away from that ball and I'll help you scrounge some up."

Old Me pushed buttons on the device. "You mean this ball?"

I rushed myself, snatched the object out of my hands as the thing counted down, hurled it across the room.

It flashed, spraying that disgusting glop everywhere.

"Trust me, you do not want that shit on your face...or in your eyes!"

Past Me's eyes bugged out.

I led myself to a bathroom, searching cabinets for bandages and medical tools. I did find a first aid kit, which included some tools reminding me strongly of sonic screwdrivers.

Luke's voice nearly made me jump out of my skin. "Let me help."

"You know first aid?"

"I know how to use a hypo spray."

"Who's this?" asked Past Me.

I introduced myself to my companion.

We used a scalpel and tweezers to pull out the bullet, then Luke showed me a spray that sealed up the wound without stitches and left a nasty scar like the one on my present day leg. As we operated, I told Past Me my story.

"Wait, wouldn't telling me all this break the laws of time and cause a paradox?"

"I created dinosaur meat restaurants. I don't think anything can get worse than that. Plus if I disappeared without telling you, you'd never know how I got here, which wouldn't make sense if you posted this whole story online and somebody was reading it."

"Hmm. That's a very good point, Future Me...That also means I'm still a virgin, doesn't it?"

I rubbed my beak in frustration. "I...don't know. I guess it wasn't a great idea to sleep with a cavewoman anyway. I mean, it's like sleeping with your grandma's grandma's grandma. But she was cute..."

"She's not our grandma's—"

"Hell no," I blurted. "She's French, and the whole tribe got wiped out or something. It's cool...sort of. In this point in history, she's too old to even be a skeleton."

"So you stopped me. If you are me, why are you still here?"

"I...don't know. Maybe you have to get out of this TARDIS first."

Past Me swallowed hard. "But this is the coolest thing that's ever happened to me. You want me to just leave all this?"

"Yes!" me and Luke shouted in unison.

"To save lives," I added. "His mother! The people of Boston! Heck, even Eve! I don't want her brain dissected by Daleks, do I?"

Past Me shook my head.

"Also, you're going to be late for work," said Luke. "He said that at the beginning of the story."

I slapped him on the back. "Right! I am going to be late for work!"

Old Me swallowed hard. "Okay, fine. How do I get out of here?"

I saw myself out.

My past self stood on the apartment yard, staring at the TARDIS's open door, but I blocked him from entering.

I cleared my throat. "Work?"

"What about the dead guy?"

"We'll take care of that," Luke said.

Old Me gave me and Luke a reluctant nod, hurrying off to my car.

Luke stared at Present Me. "Aren't you supposed to disappear or something?"

I scratched my head. "I don't feel any less bird-like."

"Oh! Allow me!" The Master rushed around the console. "As long as this TARDIS remains where it is, there remains a chance of you sneaking onboard and ruining time..."

The doors closed, and the machine commenced its usual grinding.

I blinked, and instead of standing in the TARDIS, I gripped the steering wheel of my Toyota.

I nearly wrecked into an oncoming pickup truck, but steered away at the last second.

No bird beak or feathers. The memories of my adventures slowly faded from mind, another sign of things returning to normal. I now only recalled the rough outline Future Self had told me while tending my bullet wound. Sorry about that.

Up at the corner, I suddenly realized my khakis were bloody. Not wanting to answer unwanted questions, I drove back to my apartment, changed my slacks and continued on to work.

My office was a one story brick building in Shawnee Kansas. Cube farm. Telephone collections. I spent my days in front of a computer with an uncomfortable telephone headset on my head, trying to get people to pay off credit cards. Half my calls consisted of me apologizing to people who had made arrangements to pay off their debt through a debt settlement company. I apologized, but we kept on calling them.

I showed up at the building a half hour late, but lied to my manager about having overslept, and my attendance record was good for it.

At lunch, they had the flat panel TV on in the break room. I watched a news story about that scary bearded guy with the gun. Get this: He was running for president.

When I returned to my desk and got back on the phone, a lady called in, wanting to get payment arrangements set up on a Walmart credit card bill.

I furrowed my brow when I saw the customer's name appear on the monitor. Ookla Lalu Robwarson DeMaster.

I only realized halfway into the call that she hadn't been speaking English, but instead some kind of obscure French dialect. It seemed her ancestors had come to Louisiana from an island off the coast of France.

They had a strange culture, myths about a bearded god who told them to leave the island before it flooded, weddings with ritual scarification, and stories of huge yellow birds. She said she came from a family of dentists, but they had a wild adventurous streak: Hunting, mountain climbing, sports, especially wrestling.

Obviously she couldn't go into great detail on that five minute call, but the summary version excited me. I gave her my cel phone number in that foreign language so we could catch up later. Oh, and she also paid her bill, which was cool.

I know, the whole thing was against company policy, but who else besides us spoke that language?

Anyways, I tried not to look too suspicious when I used my PTO and took a plane trip to New Orleans.

The moment I stepped out of the airport, searching for the rent-a-car place, I found a woman in a ridiculous yellow costume holding up a sign with my name on it...Written in that language I'd only seen once before on the TARDIS wall.

Not a Big Bird costume, some kind of Mardi Gras costume bearing a striking resemblance to Big Bird. I could see a face.

My jaw dropped. "Eve?"

Yeah, I don't know why I said that. I guess weird things happen to your mind when you travel time. I could have sworn I recognized her.

I rushed up to meet her. "Eve?"

My brain caught up to me. "...Ookla?"

The woman nodded. "I have a great grandmother named Eve. It's a popular name in my family. Want to get some coffee?"

"Yes!" I eagerly cried.

She offered me a package of Dentyne. The same kind I often bought. Spooky. "Uh...thanks."

I followed her across the busy drop-off/bus lane to the big parking lot. Despite being hampered by a pear shaped bird suit, she moved just like Eve, which I found a little sexy, especially when she got impatient with my slowness with the suitcase and grabbed my hand, practically dragging me across the lot.

Again, don't know why I remembered Eve, it just felt like I did.

Ookla drove a car identical to mine, and she seemed quite comfortable driving it in a bird suit.

"Since we're both in town, we can both get a genetics test. I think it would be very interesting, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah," I stammered, secretly wondering if I cared at this point.

"It still amazes me that you can speak my language."

I was totally crushing on her, but tried not to let it show. "I...uh..."

I couldn't think of a single believable explanation. "Um...my..."

My what? If I say my grandmother taught me, she'd think we were related.

...Were we? Was I my own grandpa? "I...uh...it's...been in the family for some time, actually. I...don't know who first...started speaking it. Maybe a friend of my ancestors...you...think we're related?"

She shrugged. "Anything's possible."

Ookla drove uncomfortably fast, weaving in and out of traffic, growling and flipping people off in a way that seemed almost random to me.

"You're...very aggressive."

She chuckled. "And you're not."

Ookla cut someone off, yelling at them for their bad driving.

"You...got any relatives in NASCAR?"

She gave me a slight nod. "Why?"

"No reason."

"You ever get weird dreams?" Ookla asked as she turned onto the freeway.

"Increasingly."

She chuckled. "Me too. A few years ago, I had a dream about this particular model of car. I was like `I've got to have this car.' I mean, it's a dumb little foreign car, not a Ferrari, but it kinda turned me on for some weird reason."

We neared a strip mall. "One time I dreamed that this blue cabinet came out of the sky, and a bunch of velociraptors came out and killed my family. Weird dream, but it felt super real."

The coffee shop stood in a the middle of the place. Ookla parked her car and got out.

"You going to go in there wearing that getup?"

"Of course not. That would be silly."

Without a word of warning, she removed the bird suit, revealing the twice as embarrassing outfit she had on underneath.

Two piece chrome bikini. I had to force my jaw not to drop. "You're...wearing that."

Already, people in the parking lot stared at us.

"You like it? I got it off Amazon. Shiny things, it's kind of a kink with me. I don't know why."

If you say so, distantly related possible great grand daughter, I thought. "Um...maybe you should wear the chicken suit instead."

"Why, do you find me...unattractive?"

"Um, no," I coughed. "But if we're both related, uh..."

"Oh, right." She frowned. "Sorry, people do say I'm not very body conscious."

Shrugging, she pulled the bird suit back on. "Guess you don't mind if I sweat. This thing is a little warm."

"Doesn't bother me."

Halfway to the green and white door of the establishment, she pointed to a rustic looking restaurant next door. "Hey, wanna go to Scaly's instead?"

My eyes bugged out. "S-S-Scaly's?"

She nodded.

Gulping, I looked over and took in the wooden western facade.

A giant sculpture of an alligator stood atop a corrugated tin roof. "What...do they...sell in there?"

"Alligator, mostly. You eaten gator before?"

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Um, no. Guessing it tastes like chicken?"

The walls of the restaurant had been decorated with abstract paintings of alligators that looked suspiciously like velociraptors, and they had a kid's menu with dinosaur toys.

"Mom says I'm related to someone who runs the company," Ookla said. "But we're distant relatives."

I tried to hide my dismay. "I...see."

Ookla dug around in her costume. "You know, it's a good thing you suggested I wear this. I'm always locking my keys and money in the car."

By the looks of it, she kept the money around her crotch somewhere. "Uh...I'll pay for it."

I led her into a corner booth, but we still got a lot of stares and chuckles. Not the right time of year for a Mardi Gras suit.

The food didn't taste at all like raptor, much to my relief. Okay, so maybe I didn't remember what it tastes like, but I felt pretty sure it wasn't raptor.

Ookla gazed into my eyes. "I've never met you before, but it's like I already know you."

"Yeah, weird, huh?"

"You think it's possible to meet a person for the first time and feel like you've known them forever?"

I swallowed. It felt exactly like that around her. "...Maybe."

Ookla had bought a huge sandwich, which she casually bit a chunk off before speaking with her mouth full, total caveman style. "So. I'm a docent at the New Orleans zoo. I've been doing that for some time. You been a bill collector long?"

I nodded. "How...much do you know about your family tree?"

She slurped her Pepsi without a straw, almost like a dog. "We were the original French colonists. You know, Louisiana Purchase people. Some of my ancestors had this crazy idea of traveling to Kansas for some reason, but something always happened to them, they'd get sick and die en route, or get killed in a gunfight or mauled by a wild animal, or couldn't get the money to finance the trip."

An awkward silence passed between us. There's no good time to tell a girl that you may or may not have slept with her great great great great great great great great great great great grandmother.

She took another big bite from her sandwich. "So, another dream I had, I was a cyclops and these weird robots kept following me around...It kinda turned into a sex dream...I don't know why I keep telling you about my dreams, but they keep popping into my head. What have you dreamed about?"

What was all of this? Some kind of ancestral memory handed down through the generations? Or was it thousand year old Eve with amnesia?...No, wait. She'd be all wrinkly like a prune, if it were really Eve.

"Um..." Since I doubted there would be another time to tell this story, I told her about how I got shot in the TARDIS, and the story Future Me told me.

I kinda censored the parts where I slept with her possible ancestor, making it sound like we were just good buddies because she saved my life.

"That sounds like an old storybook my grandmother used to read to me."

"Really? It'd like to see that."

"I'll see if I can dig it up for you."

I had just taken a bite out of my sandwich when Ookla showed me her phone. What I saw on the screen startled me so much the food went down the wrong pipe. I coughed and stared in disbelief.

A pair of naked people in colorful feathered capes. "Wow. Guess your whole family isn't body conscious."

Ookla snickered. "We...have some unique family traditions." She raised an eyebrow. "You...seem a little...unsurprised."

Valid point. Don't know why I wasn't. "Um...I've read a few Nat Geo's."

"Oh."

"I'm just shocked they let you take pictures with your phone."

She zoomed in on the husband's chest, showing me the scar. "See? Told you."

"Yeah. I believed it."

Ookla leaned over the table. "I bet you're one of those shy nerdy types, aren't you?"

I reddened. "Um...maybe?"

"I got a thing for shy nerdy types. I feel like...I dunno...they can take me anywhere!"

Without warning, she grabbed me and kissed me right on the mouth.

It took considerable effort to push he strong arms away. "Whoa! Hey! What if we're related?"

"What if we're not?"

"Like you said, we'd have to take a test—"

She kissed me again.

Somehow I escaped her grasp. "We're...in a restaurant."

"I know," Ookla giggled. "That's why we're only kissing."

"Th-this...was...a mistake. I shouldn't have come here."

"This is destiny," she breathed. "And we both know it! You've been speaking my language fluently this whole time. The way you react when I talk about things, it's like you already know them, we have nearly identical dreams..."

"...Which would also be a thing if we were related."

"You don't look like anyone in my family. You saw the picture."

"True..." I admitted. "But what if it's someone from a long time back?"

"We're all related to Adam, aren't we?"

I smacked my head.

"Look. Genealogy is my thing. I got an Ancestry account."

"Well I don't. Can you please wait a few weeks before you jump my bones?"

Ookla burst out laughing. "You're funny!"

We finished our meals.

"You want to come over to my place, or do you want me to drive you to your hotel?"

"Um..." I'd only just met her. That seemed like a great reason not to go to her place, but it also seemed like a great reason to go there.

"I can show you books on my family history..."

I probably could have said no, gotten a DNA test, sent it off and spent the rest of my visit sightseeing, but I'd come all this way to see her. "...Okay."

We got back in the car. More crazy dangerous driving.

Ookla lived in a brown two story house. When we climbed up on her front porch, an alligator gurgled at me from a large horse trough, cats rubbed my legs, parrots cackled from cages suspended from the roof.

"You just scarfed down an alligator sandwich," I blurted.

Ookla leaned on a heavily populated chicken coop. "We're all part of the food chain."

"Um...okay."

She led me through a door and two screen doors, sprinkling food into a huge aquarium full of...some impressive sea creatures.

"This place must keep you busy."

Ookla petted a huge black Newfoundland dog. "Keeps me from getting lonely when I'm not at work...Figured I could do something fun with my inheritance money...Do you mind if I let the birds out?"

"Um...sure!"

We soon had an aviary in the living room, the parrots from outside and other caged birds perching on the smart TV, crapping on the leather sofa, drinking from a bird bath on the coffee table. Feathers everywhere. A Canada goose hissed at me.

Ookla, with two winged pets on her shoulders, opened a glass case, taking out several family albums. She opened one, showing me pictures while she tended to her dog's persistent nosing with vigorous petting.

Lots of women in that book resembled Eve, all the way back to the age of tintype. I squinted at the men, but couldn't quite make out any resemblance to myself or my dad or anyone that could be related with some kind of recessive trait. Of course, that didn't mean anything.

The storybook she referred to...contained legends eerily similar to the adventures Future Me told me about, but it focused on Eve's side of the story, and three other women accomplished the some of the things Eve did by herself. Eve's dead boyfriends were in it, as well as a weird story about killing a bear.

"I've read that my ancestors came up with those stories after having weird dreams...or maybe tripping on mushrooms."

"Hmm. Yeah, they do sound a little fantastic." I looked through another photo book.

"Satisfied? I don't ordinarily make a practice of dating relatives."

"Humor me, okay? I've dated girls too young for me, and too old for me. I make mistakes. I gotta be sure."

"Fine," she groaned. "Ancestry accidentally sent me two kits. You can use the spare in my bedroom."

"B-bedroom?"

Smirking, Ookla opened a screen door, leading me into a room with a large pink bed, a menagerie of stuffed animals, zoo toys and animal statues. She dug a kit out of a dresser, passing it to me.

I sat on the comforter, opening the box, examining the testing supplies and booklet.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ookla's bird suit dropping to the floor with a soft whump.

Shimmering silver two piece. Shapely athletic build.

She shoved me backwards on the covers, straddling my jeans.

THE END

[0000]

Thanks for reading. If this story were more popular, I'd keep it going longer. In 2010 I had no readers, so I abandoned the project. I'm not the same person I was ten years ago, so the best thing I can do for this one is write an ending.

I know, there's probably a lot of unanswered questions. Feel free to post comments about any plot threads I left dangling. Well, except Ookla's ancestry. Robert did say he didn't care that much. Or did he? I'm sure there's something much more important that I'm forgetting.

I came up with the concept after seeing the Garfield Minus Garfield comics. Guess that concept didn't take off too well either.

A Warp for The Quarks is my second attempt at a story about a dead Doctor, and it's a lot better than this one. I did write it more recently. The bad thing: It also got few readers, so that's got a conclusion too.

I'm working on another story of this type, but I plan to hide the fact that The Doctor is dead until halfway into the story, when you find that "Doc" is actually a human pretending to be a Time Lord. I'm a hundred percent certain people will like that one better. I'm considering whether or not I should post a "prequel" to that story as a new chapter here, or just jump into the impostor story.

I always had this idea of Robert somehow going to Skaro and saving Eve before she's made into a human Dalek, then having her jabbering in caveman speak, maybe dealing with the problem of Mr. Oog being buried in weird glowing stuff, but I don't have much incentive to keep going with this. Plus it's not easy to continue a story you wrote ten years ago when you've forgotten most of the details.

There's a lot of directions I could have taken this ending. It could potentially go on forever if I let Eve drop-kick The Master's gun away, or if the Daleks got to the console before they landed on earth. The Master, Luke and Robert would have to run into the other TARDIS, and I'd have another huge mess.

[0000]

Revision to Chapter 18:

My son's head disappeared from the staircase. I wasn't sure if he'd heard me, or I hurt his feelings, but I figured he was a bright lad, so I guessed I may have.

However, I was in a catch twenty two: If I went after him and tried to patch things up, Luke might not want to speak to me again, and then I'd have no information.

But if I let my son run off to who knows where, he might run into the TARDIS and screw things up more.

Also, where was Eve? I figured her fancy heels would make it difficult to navigate the broken staircase, but she seemed...unusually quiet. Especially now that my son had vanished.

No matter. I'd figure it out later. At present, I felt nothing was more important than getting information from Luke. "Luke, please. Tell me what you know about fixing time."

[0000]

I failed to read my own notes while I was writing this final chapter, so I ended up writing an alternate plot:

"Wait!" Luke called after me.

I stopped, turned to face the other TARDIS.

Luke didn't make it out the door alive. A blast hit him in the back, his smoking skeleton toppling onto the grass.

Daleks. I ran like hell.