A/N: Ah, the Seventh Doctor. What a puzzle. He's the most complex of the Doctors, in my opinion, and when he's written well, he's fabulous. When he's not, which is often... well. I certainly hope I've done him justice here.

[In the life of the Doctor there are good days, and there are bad days. Sometimes, when he's feeling down, the TARDIS (who has a very long memory), takes over the viewscreen and reminds him of the good days.]

A corridor, somewhere in the TARDIS. The Spartan white floor and ceiling above go well with the austere walls, white, patterned with alternating glowing roundels.

Only the lower half of the man is visible, wearing khaki green plaid trousers. The rest of him is stuck deep into an open roundel near the floor.

"Bother" the man said, in an odd, squeaky voice that downplayed his Scottish accent. "The Klister valve is out of alignment. And the Synchronic multi-loop stabilizer is misfiring, too…won't be making temporal orbit again any time soon, old girl." A hand emerged from the hole and felt around for the toolbox by his leg. "Spanner, spanner…Ace? Ace!" the voice rose to a shout, then suddenly went quiet and brooding. "Oh, I don't suppose there's any point. She's probably down in the lab making more Nitro-9 while my back is turned. 'While the cat's away, the cheese will play.' Aha."

Footsteps could be heard for a moment, and then a teenaged girl turned the corner. Catching sight of the man, she headed towards him. "Professor," she said, "what are you doing?"

"Ah, there you are, Ace," the man said. Hand me the spanner, would you?"

Ace got down on her knees to sort through the toolbox, causing her plaited pigtail to fall forward onto her shoulder. She held up the wrench, then placed it into the man's hand. "there you go, professor." She sat down cross-legged next to him, one hand resting on the black umbrella leaning against the wall.

"I'm the Doctor, not the Professor, Ace" the Doctor reminded her.

"Right," Ace said. "Sorry, Doctor. So what are you doing in there?"

"Repairing the TARDIS," the Doctor replied he rolled the r in 'repairing' a trifle more than was necessary. "She's getting on a bit and needs some care every now and then." This was followed by a series of loud bangs. A bit of smoke leaked out through the hole.

"You know, Professor," Ace said after a bit, "you're always fiddling with the TARDIS machinery and muttering to yourself. Don't you ever get out and have some fun?"

"Certainly!" the Doctor replied, still making banging noises. "We went to that concert, remember?"

"What, the one where we got shot at?" Ace said slyly. "And then the Cybermen turned up?"

"Yes, well," the Doctor said dismissively. "Not even a Time Lord can be certain of his safety all the time. Especially when it's me. Hand me the screwdriver."

"Nope," Ace said, moving it out of his reach. The Doctor scrabbled around but couldn't find it.

"Ace! If I don't fix this we could be stuck here forever!"

"well, that should give you plenty of time to find the tools, then," Ace said, as the Doctor slid out of the hole. A quick glance told him they were nowhere in sight. "what did you do with them!?" he exclaimed.

"Well, Professor," the girl said, unbuttoning her large leather coat, "I looked up an old friend of yours, who told me you used to have a good deal more fun than we ever do. She agreed to come and help me persuade you." Before the Doctor could respond, another, older voice floated down the corridor to them. "Come on, Doctor," it said. "Let's see if you know your own home as well as I do. You never used to." The speaker laughed, and there was the sound of running footsteps.

The Doctor blinked. "Sarah?" he said. "Sarah-Jane Smith?" Ace grinned, and opened her jacket, revealing yet more of the patches which covered the exterior, and pockets containing about half of the tools. "You're it!" she shouted, and ran.

The Doctor grabbed the white Panama hat sitting in one of the roundels. "Ace!" he cried, waving his arms. At the end of the hall, the girl turned to look. "How dare you do this? I am the Doctor, the President Elect of Gallifrey, Defender of the laws of time and space! And," his serious expression suddenly melting away as he jammed the hat onto his head, "I have far more experience running down corridors than both of you put together!" And, with both of them laughing, he took off in pursuit.