The Four and a Half Doctors Part Two

Notes: Not much to report except…ah yes! The petition! Well, I'm asking you all for your support today because me and LilCosette reckon it's time we did something to combat flames on this site. Interested? Check out my profile. Go on, just one little click…you know you want to…

The poem was found whilst surfing t'Internet. Not sure where it's from or who wrote it, but I thought it fitted well. To whoever did write it: nice poem. :)

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Rose was taking a moment to sort out the tangled mess of information inside her head. From the way the frilly man had destroyed the lamp she had her suspicions, and her old leather jacket wearing Doctor was real enough. So were they all past incarnations of the same man? Then again, she thought as she studied the blond man, there was still an uncomfortable possibility that he was some sort of rent boy. Or something. In which case, she was going back to her room until they all left.

Five saw her staring and smiled, shuffling closer and sticking out his hand in a very boyish way. Smiling slightly at the stick of celery pinned to his lapel, she took it.

"You'll have to forgive us. We seem to have skipped over the formal introductions," he said, glancing back at the others who were, for some reason, arguing about Earth football teams.

"I'm the Doctor," he continued, making Rose sigh in relief. "We all are in fact. I am the fifth, and the gentleman who so kindly got rid of your lamp is the third. I take it you know the other two?"

"Yeah, course," she said, feeling a little daze. So it was real, and she was awake, and the man she'd seen burst into flames not that long ago was now defending Manchester United. "But hold on, if you're all together and you're all the same person, isn't that a paradox?"

"Quite right," said Three, leaving Nine and Ten to their own devices, which seemed to include wrestling. "But we're safe in the TARDIS, I can assure you. The Time Lords are wise when it comes to paradoxes, so we're well protected. Gallifrey, and anything from it, is a safe haven for us, even if we are bending the laws of Time a little." He smiled kindly, but Rose looked worried.

"But what about the Time W--?" Nine sprang forwards and clapped a hand over her mouth suddenly.

"Hang on a second gents, me and Rose have a few things to sort out," he said, dragging her away. Once they were safely out of earshot of the others, he took her by the arms instead.

"Right, first things first, the Time War hasn't happened for those two yet, and if you say anything about it we're Reaper chow, TARDIS or no TARDIS," he said seriously.

"OK," she replied, still feeling shaken.

"You're travelling with him now, which means I must have regenerated. And quite soon by the looks of you," he said, studying her face. It looked the same as ever. "I like the haircut by the way."

"Thanks," she said, smiling at the madness of it all. "So I can't say anything about you…dying? Because that would mess up the time line."

He looked her in the eyes. "It hit you really hard, didn't it?" he asked slowly, feeling so sorry for her. "You weren't ready. Didn't I ever tell you?"

"You tried," she said carefully. She bit her lip. "I miss you," she said hesitantly.

"Come here, you silly thing," he said, grinning as he pulled her into a hug. She sniffed a little bit, hugging him tightly, trying to convey in squeezes how much it had hurt. Then she pulled away, smiling again.

"Give me a minute to get dressed will you? Then you…all of you…can explain," she said, padding away in her bare feet.

Nine looked after her for a moment, then heard an explosion behind him.

"My mug!" cried a distraught sounding Ten.

"It was ridiculous anyway," said Three's voice grumpily.

"I had no idea china caught fire," commented Five. Nine grinned and went back to join them.

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"My lines do not scan, my words do not rhyme, I've overrun the meter, dramatically, not for the first time," recited Six, with some dramatic gestures thrown in for good measure. "Am I a poem? I am, if I say I am."

"Oh God…" groaned Four, slamming his head down on the table. "How much more?"

Two flicked a peanut at him. "It's not every day we get to go to a pub talent contest."

"There's a reason for that," Four pointed out, his voice muffled by his scarf. "None of us are talented!"

"Speak for yourself," huffed Two, getting out his recorder as Six left the stage to a polite splatter of applause.

"You hear that? They love me," said Six proudly as he took a seat next to the others. Four just glared at him and ordered a beer.

"I don't think you were meant to be a beat poet somehow," commented Eight politely. Six scowled.

"Well I don't think you're any good at karaoke, but did you listen?" he fired back. "At least my considerable talents aren't limited to playing the spoons and shoving ferrets down my trousers," he added, glancing at Seven in contempt as he took to the stage.

"He's getting a better response than you did," Two pointed out.

Six decided to stop talking. For a little while at least.

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"This morning I received an urgent call from the First Doctor," said Three, stirring his tea. "He's trapped in a limbo dimension with no hope of escape." They were all sat around the old table on mismatched chairs, Rose perching on a wobbly stool. A sort of conference had been set up, with the Third Doctor at the head of the table. Ten was scowling slightly and clutching a new mug. The remains of the 'World's Greatest Lover' mug were presently smouldering on the worktop.

"What's wrong with the TARDIS?" asked Ten, taking the last Hob Nob out of pure spite. "I'd say that was an escape hope."

"If he was with the TARDIS," said Five.

"Ah," said Ten. He paused. "Then how come he has a phone?"

"Luck I suppose," said Five, shrugging.

"So why's he's in this limbo world then?" asked Rose, who was trying to keep up.

"He was trying to repair the TARDIS and something went wrong," said Nine.

"Say no more," muttered Rose wryly.

"And naturally, he thought that the person most fitted to fix the problem was himself," said Three, smiling. He had a rather genial, twinkly smile.

"That still doesn't explain why you three were in my bedroom," Ten pointed out.

"When the TARDIS got hurt and One got shifted, our whole timeline got screwed up," said Nine. "Last I heard, the rest of us were in a pub somewhere in Bromley. Luckily we ended up somewhere more useful."

"So let's hop to it then," said Ten, brushing biscuit crumbs off his hands. "Call up the old man and get him to give us some directions to his TARDIS."

"Way ahead of you," said Nine. "London, 2006."

"Oh it would have to be then wouldn't it?" said Ten, groaning. Rose looked up hopefully but he quickly added, "We're not stopping. I had Christmas dinner with your mum, I think that's enough for now."

"You don't have to come," she said, pouting.

"Actually, I think it would be better if none of us left the TARDIS. For security reasons," Nine said, shooting Rose a meaningful glance. Three glared at him irritably.

"Then how do you propose we repair his TARDIS?" he snapped.

"Land this one inside it?" suggested Five.

"Well whatever we do, let's hurry up about it," said Three, still looking a little grumpy. "I don't want to stay here any longer than is necessary. The décor is terrible." He stormed off in the direction of the control room.

Ten exchanged a glance with Nine. "He's criticising our sense of style?"

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