SPOILERS: None

SUMMARY: SGA crossover with Doctor Who (both old and new series)

DISCLAIMER: The following story is a work of fanfiction, and as such is for fan enjoyment only. All recognizable characters/settings are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is made.

AN: First, I want to apologize for writing this fic; my only excuse is that I've never been attacked by a rabid plotbunny before (think 'Monty Python'), so my guard was down. You can blame it on "Photographs" by 'astheblackrosewilts', a clever premise based on the photographs the members of the Atlantis Expedition brought with them. If you haven't read it, I don't want to spoil anything; just say that one of the characters is carrying a picture of Doctor Who. Unfortunately, that set me thinking…"What if…?" The character that author chose to interact with our favorite Time Lord isn't the same one I would have, and once the idea got stuck in my head, it kept screaming to get out. I wrote this entire thing in under 24 hours, and I type with two fingers (and the occasional thumb)! I will be posting it as the kind beta (my husband) reviews it to make sure McKay stays in character.

Second, I haven't forgotten "Deus Ex Machina"; this stupid bunny just kept gnawing at my ankle until I finished this…

Third, this is just silly, and an offering to appease the Bunny God. Yes, I know there are discrepancies to the theory below, and holes you could drive a Buick through, but it just wouldn't let me go!

Lastly, if you don't know Doctor Who, both the new and the old version, this might not make a heck of a lot of sense. Read at your own risk!

With those warnings, enjoy!

Time Passages

By kerravon

1. The Doctor is In

The two silent figures slipped furtively down the deserted corridor, taking care to keep in the deepest shadows. Flattening against the wall, the leader hand-signaled 'halt' before he carefully peered around a corner. A hail of bullets answered him, causing him to jerk his head out of the line of fire just in the nick of time and turned around. Then, pushing the second, slightly pudgier man in front of him, he yelled, "Go, go, go!" The two took off at a sprint, rounding the corridor they had just emerged from and making a beeline for the stairs.

After several minutes of breathless racing, the leader signaled another halt as he checked out the next intersection. When no one appeared before his well-trained eye, he hissed, "OK, Rodney, all clear."

"Oh…good…," McKay panted, leaning forward and bracing his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. "Do…you think…Ronon…and Teyla…made it back to the Gate?"

Sheppard, while far from knowing any such thing, nodded. "Yeah, of course they did. They'll be back any minute now with reinforcements. We just have to stay alive until they do." Placing a reassuring hand on the scientist's heaving shoulders, he urged him forward. "Come on, we've got to keep moving or they'll find us."

Rodney straightened, glanced over Sheppard's shoulder, and his eyes widened in alarm. "Too late," he cried, covering his head and running pell mell away from the guards as they opened fire.

"Damn," Sheppard cursed as he took off after him at a sprint. He felt the white-hot sear of a bullet grazing his upper arm, but couldn't pause to assess the damage. Hopefully there would be time for that later.

The first contact with the Dryldaans by Major Lorne's team had been largely uneventful. Although somewhat aggressive, as were most human civilizations, their technology was at about the level of 1880 Earth, while their culture was a cross between the Wild West and 1920 Chicago. Essentially, 'anything goes' if you've got the firepower. Their medicines, though…the samples they had taken Beckett had him literally jumping at the chance to obtain more. Weir agreed to further trade negotiations, but decided to send Sheppard's team when two members of Lorne's were injured while sparring in the gym.

As soon as the Gate shut down behind Teyla, Rodney, Ronon, and John, the smiling faces of the 'welcoming committee' immediately became projectile weapons pointed at their heads. Apparently the ruling class decided they'd get more out of the Atlanteans in 'trade' for hostages, so the negotiations turned into kidnapping, complete with ropes and blindfolds.

They surmised that they had been escorted to a deserted Army barracks on the outskirts of town. The ride, blindfolded or not, had been less than thirty minutes, so Sheppard was confident that, should any of them escape, they should locate the Gate with little difficulty. The trick was escaping.

Ronon managed to free himself on the second day by simply claiming that his toilet was no longer functioning properly and was about to overflow. When the guard came in to check it out, Dex effortlessly conked him over the head with a lamp. In his search to find and release his teammates, the alarm was raised and he managed to get a bullet through his lateral thigh.

After that, their captors decided it would be safer to keep them all in one place, thus they were gathered in an old bunkroom. Teyla took the opportunity to clean Ronon's wound and pronounce it superficial, while the Satedan became uncharacteristically emotionally labile, even breaking into tears about his 'failure'. A few minutes later he fell into such a deep sleep that the others were unable to rouse him from, so John chalked his reactions up to sleep deprivation and let it go at that.

The next morning all four had awakened refreshed and ready to try escape again, this time together. While Ronon didn't seem the least embarrassed over his behavior the previous day, he did growl at Rodney when he mentioned it. They were successful, and set off for the Gate and home. However, their flight was soon discovered, so they split up to maximize the chances of at least one half of the team making it back to Atlantis to get help. Teyla paired with the limping Dex, while Sheppard took McKay. Out a corridor window, Sheppard smiled grimly as he saw the Pegasus natives make their way outside. Maybe he and Rodney could keep the guards busy.

The pair dashed through the mazelike interior of the abandoned building until they were thoroughly lost. However, John held high hopes that their captors were similarly disadvantaged. Once they had managed to travel several minutes with no sign of pursuit, he held up a hand again for a break. "I think we may have shaken them. Let's find someplace to hole up and wait for the cavalry to arrive."

McKay waved his hand in the air and nodded breathlessly as he followed Sheppard's lead. The soldier sidestepped down the dusty corridor, trying to watch both approaches as he searched for a suitable 'saferoom'. McKay rolled his eyes when the pilot picked a door seemingly at random and carefully eased it open.

"OK, clear. Come on," he stage-whispered to McKay.

"I've heard that before…you go first," Rodney grumbled, acquiescing.

As the pair eased into the empty room, John fought a wave of vertigo, wiping his suddenly-sweaty forehead surreptitiously with the back of his hand while Rodney examined their surroundings. Evidently a sleeping chamber of some kind, there were two rows of cots lining the walls, five to a side, with a small nightstand to the right of each bed. The room clearly hadn't been used for years, as a thin layer of dust covered every visible surface. A small bathroom led off the far end of the chamber, and the walls were bereft of either personal photos or decorative artwork.

"Probably a bunkroom, a larger version of the one we were just held in," commented McKay as he moved to examine the fairly large anachronism that dominated the room. In the far corner, spotlessly clean, stood a large, bright blue box, about the size and shape of a telephone booth. McKay wandered around its complete circumference, becoming more puzzled with each step.

"Police Call Box," he read. "Why is that written in English?" McKay's mind boggled at the impossibility of an English sign on a booth in an abandoned building in the Pegasus Galaxy. "And what the heck does it mean?" He tried the door, to no avail. "Locked," he muttered in frustration.

He glanced over at Sheppard, and was immediately alarmed. This man, this battle-weary soldier, who had personally seen more death and destruction than the average platoon, had collapsed against the wall with his back pressed firmly into the door. His pallor caused his brown hair to stand out in bas-relief, as dark hollows accented the haunted eyes that were riveted on the anomaly in the corner. John swallowed twice trying to reclaim his voice, then finally rasped, "It means…we're in a lot of trouble."

Now McKay was truly frightened; he'd never seen Sheppard like this. Returning to the colonel's side, he stared at him silently, trying to understand what was happening. With a convulsive shiver, John made a visible effort to pull it together, standing away from the wall and running a hand through his hair. He shot Rodney a weak smile that only added to his apprehension; when John couldn't fake hearty optimism, the entire universe was in trouble.

Sheppard shook his head in denial, then muttered more to himself than McKay, "It can't be. Must be a coincidence. I mean, what are the odds?" To actually avoid calculating them, he moved shakily towards the blue box as he pulled his dogtags out from beneath his shirt. Standing before the door, he removed his tags for the first time Rodney could remember, popped the silencer ring off the one on the long chain, and freed a second metallic object that hung from the chain as well. The plastic ring that kept the tags from clinking together had effectively hidden it from casual view. Holding it in a trembling hand, he inserted it in the lock. With a small snickt, the door swung open.

Closing his eyes as he steeled himself, Sheppard commanded, "Come on, Rodney. We'll be safer here than anywhere else in the universe."

"Judging by your reaction, I doubt that. Besides, why hide in a tiny box when we have this nice, big, dusty room?" Although he had a million questions, McKay decided to stick to the most pressing first.

"Trust me. There's plenty of space." Sheppard wasn't feeling up to further discussion; his head pounded, his stomach churned, and his emotions roiled. Snagging McKay by the elbow, he forcibly maneuvered him inside and latched the door behind them.

"Now wait just a sec-o-n-d…" McKay trailed off as his eyes and mouth became three huge 'O's. Turning in a slow circle, he took in the chamber with its two-story ceiling and ten yard diameter. Essentially circular, the room was dominated by a polygonal central console with control panels on every side. A crystal column sat motionless in its center, but looked like it might move when activated. The structural components of the room had an almost organic feel to them while the subdued lighting seemed to emanate from the roundels that lined the walls.

"It's larger on the inside than on the outside," he finally commented when he found his voice. "That's just not possible…at least in this universe…"

Sheppard, who had collapsed bonelessly against the wall next to the door in a cold sweat, snickered slightly at the remark. He had his knees pulled to his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around them, and Rodney could have sworn that the man was rocking gently back and forth. In an attempt at normalcy, he huffed, "What's so funny about that? It is larger on the inside than on the outside. It must be a tesseract."

Sheppard chuckled louder and uncurled a bit. "Rodney, you have no idea…"

Just then the entrance swung open and a tall man in a leather jacket dashed into the room, followed by a flurry of bullets. Slamming his hand on one of the console's levers, he shut the door before any damage could be done. McKay, who had instinctively ducked to avoid being shot, could still hear the pinging of the projectiles on the outer shell. He cautiously straightened as the new arrival shot about the center console, hitting buttons, throwing levers, and turning knobs, until finally, with a great prehistoric groan and the scream of a million tachyons, the central column began to rise and fall.

Next, the tall man in the black T-shirt and leather jacket whirled towards him, clapping his hands together and rubbing them in apparent anticipation. Steely blue eyes fixed him motionless like an insect, a feeling Rodney did not appreciate at all. Forcing an almost dangerous smile, the man rocked back and forth on his toes and demanded, "All right then; who are you, and how did you get on board?"

Rodney gathered his arrogance about himself like a cloak and began haughtily, "I'm Doctor Ro…"

He was interrupted by a vaguely hysterical giggle from the region of Atlantis' Chief Military Officer that made McKay's hair stand on end. "No, no, Rodney, you've got it all wrong!" he sing-songed with a disturbing lilt. "He's the Doctor!"

McKay was confused. "Doctor who?" he asked.

"Exactly!" both Sheppard and the other man chorused as McKay stared, nonplussed.

While Rodney felt quite clearly out of the loop of whatever was currently going on, he was grateful that the intense stranger's scrutiny was now fixed on the pilot seated on the floor near the door. 'Leathercoat', as Rodney mentally referred to him, bent sideways and slowly stalked forwards, keeping his eyes glued to Sheppard's face. When he was within a few feet of the now-wary pilot, he crouched down to his level, careful not to make any threatening moves.

"Don't I know you?" he asked quietly.

Sheppard glared at the other man. "You did, once upon a time, but you've changed…again." He giggled disturbingly and caroled, "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…."

TBC…