Author's Note: I know what you're thinking – my God, an update from her? But it's true. This one is for Claire and Megan, who I know will get this. For all those who haven't met the character before, don't worry, it'll still make sense.

-

"I don't really know why I'm doing this."

"Aw, come on Doctor, it's just for a laugh. You never know, we might find someone really cool."

The Doctor grumbled at this proposal, and shifted his gaze back to the line of people snaking its way through the street.

It wasn't his idea, of course it wouldn't be, but Rose had said she wanted some more company, and it was either interviewing people or bringing along her mother or Mickey, and even the seventh god of Bastranob couldn't get him to agree to the latter.

So here he was, frowning as another neurotic, middle-aged techie who spent far too many hours playing World of Warcraft tried to worm his way into the TARDIS.

"I mean…you know, I just think I'd be good for the job."

"But why?" The Doctor pushed. As soon as this was over, the better.

"Well…" the guy ran a hand through his greasy hair. He straightened his already straight tie and attempted a flirty grin at Rose.

"I'm a Dungeon Master, and I can slice up some Elder Air Elementals at a rate of 45 a minute. Yeah. I got Epic Weapon Specialisation with an Obsidian Halberd."

The Doctor gave Rose a warning look. "All right, thank you very much, now you need to go home and give the WoW Addicts Anonymous hotline a call."

"Well, he was a bit naff," Rose murmured as they watched him trudge away. "If I see one more guy like that I'll scream."

Fortunately, the next candidate wasn't at all like that. In fact, he didn't even look remotely like the sort of man you would find applying for a position like this. But, this aside, he flicked his pristine white coat behind him as he sat down and cleared his throat.

"Hello, good afternoon, Sir, and Miss –" he motioned to Rose, " – blonde, with a bit of – I see you've got some, some…in your hair, but – don't worry!" He waggled his finger. "No, it grows back on everyone."

Rose stared, caught between shock and amusement, as the man introduced himself. "I'm Dr. Alan Statham, Consul – well, ex Consultant Radiologist, at your service."

The Doctor wrinkled his nose. "Ex? Did you get fired?"

"Well," Alan Statham rubbed his glasses with the edge of his coat, "the matter remains to be seen, but I was, uh, dismissed, over certain personal differences." He paused. "Fear not though! I certainly still have all my qualifications, all the skill and expertise needed to fly any whizzy, flippy, with the big blue box ship, don't worry!"

"Right. Well, I'm the Doctor, and this is Rose."

"Doctor? Of – of what?"

"Oh, this and that. Don't really have a certificate mind you, but I can put on a band-aid as well as the next."

"Well, if you've go no – you're, you're not a proper bloody doctor!"

The Doctor blinked slowly. "Yes I am. Just not the type you know."

"No, you're not. I, I am a proper doctor, not you or the bloody Lyndon with the – with the face, and the – shut up! Just shut up!"

And with that, Alan rose to his feet and strode dramatically away, and, fearing that the Doctor-who-wasn't would come after him, ducked into the nearest blue police call box he could find.

He blinked, once, twice, and straightened up, staring at the enormous room before him. "It's – what?" He said in a very small voice, a look of utter shock on his face. He ducked, raising his arms in defence, as if he thought something might fly out of this impossible space and attack him.

"Now look what you've done." The Doctor poked his head round the TARDIS door. "Rose, this is all your fault."

"Don't look at me, Doctor." She tried to hide a smile. "He came in here all on his own."

Alan turned at the sound of their voices, at once resuming his mask of immense calm and cool (as he thought). He straightened his coat. "I can see what's going on here. Yes, very clever, but oh no! I can see right through it!"

At the sight of the Doctor and Rose's stunned looks, he continued, triumphant. "It's all a trick of the mind, isn't it? Yes, you're stunned now that I've discovered your secret. You and those breasts and this bloody thing are all nitty-natty, jiggly-wiggly figments of my mind!"

Rose crossed her arms over her chest, frowning. "Doctor, I think he's gone a bit mad."

"Aha!" Alan leapt towards the door. "Farewell, my fiendish foe of a mind!"

And he ran straight out the door.