Chapter 4

The Doctor's feet clattered towards the Tardis at high speed with Clara and Jake following close behind and several other curious, confused coppers and detectives in hot pursuit.

"That pay-rolled puppy had better not go for a follow up on my Aston Martin!" Gene yelled as he ran along somewhere behind.

"Oh no!" The Doctor thrust his hands up in the air, "Stop it! Stop that thing! It's leaking all over a very sensitive piece of equipment!"

"I'll be doing serious damage to your sensitive equipment if you don't get out of my car park pronto-tonto," Gene warned him.

A uniformed officer grasped the dog and slipped the lead onto its collar.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry sir," he cried, addressing a slightly breathless Robin, "training hasn't been going well today."

"How did it even get out?!" Robin cried, a hand rising to his forehead in distress.

"We all blacked out!" the officer said apologetically, "we were preparing to take the new dogs on a training exercise and the next thing we knew we were flat out on the floor and one of the dogs had disappeared.

"My Tardis!" the Doctor cried as he dropped to his knees, dangerously close to a pool of piddle, "my beautiful Tardis!"

"Is it alright?" Jake asked, "I mean, after everything it's survived…"

"She's never had to face dog kidney offerings before!" the Doctor informed him, "Ohhh this is not good."

He opened the door and leapt inside with Clara following just behind. Jake glanced around, unsure whether he was permitted to follow or not.

"Should I…?" he hesitated, waiting for someone to offer him advice but the Doctor's voice called from inside the Tardis;

"Last call for the bleached, floppy haired one to come aboard."

"I think that's you," Robin said, a little unnecessarily.

Jake swallowed and swept his fingers through the aforementioned bleached, floppy hair.

"Right," he said. He swallowed hard, took a deep breath and steeled himself. "On board I go."

The others watched nervously as Jake put one foot inside of the Tardis.

"Jake," Marci called after him and he glanced behind him. She looked scared and upset but just about managed to whisper, "be careful."

Jake gave her a grateful smile and nodded, then he stepped inside.

"What… just happened?" Simon asked.

"I'm… not sure," Robin scratched his head, "He's… just stepped into a fictional spaceship in the shape of a police box. Nothing makes sense any more." He turned to Kim. "Hold me," he whimpered.

"Man up and get your boyfriend back," Kim told him.

Robin glanced back at the Tardis.

"Right," he said, swallowing nervously. He thought about stepping on board, tried to persuade his feet to move but he just couldn't do it. "Look, why don't we send a dog in instead?"

"Because the dog got on so well with the outside of the Tardis that what the Doctor really needs is more dog pee on the inside?" cried Marci.

"This is a nightmare," Simon shook his head, "in fact, it goes beyond that. Calling it a nightmare is an insult to nightmares."

"Are you jealous?" asked Marci.

Simon almost choked on thin air.

"What?" he cried.

"I mean, you're the biggest sci-fi nerd we know," Marci told him.

"That is true," Shaz nodded.

"You must be so excited by all of this!" Marci told him and Simon gagged and choked.

"Just because I happen to like some science fiction does not mean I'm automatically a fan of Doctor Who!" he cried in horror.

"Oh yeah!" Shaz had only caught Marci's part of the conversation. "You and Jake have something to bond over at last!"

Simon's face turned redder than a post box with fury.

"I am not," he cried, "bonding with that Who-Head over anything!"

Robin flapped at him a little ineffectively as though trying to cool him down.

"Si, leave it," he cried, "they didn't know how you felt about it!"

"Well they do now!" Simon stomped, "Seven was the last true Doctor!"

"What about Eight?" Marci let slip before she could stop herself.

"He doesn't count!" Simon fumed.

"Why doesn't he count?" Kim frowned.

"Ignore him, he's quoting Queer as Folk," Robin sighed and folded his arms.

"He'd better stop, that's not even out until next year," Kim pointed out.

"I am deadly serious!" Simon cried, "and if one more person accuses me of being a fan then I'm going to personally ensure the next Doctor they see will be a medical one!"

X

Jake tiptoed into the control room, his eyes scanning the vast expanse, mouth open in awe.

"I'm not gonna say it, I'm not gonna say it," he muttered over and over, "I am not a cliché. I am not going to say it."

"Well?" the Doctor glanced in his direction, "What do you think of it, Jake Dawson?"

Jake swallowed, his lips dry and his mouth following suit.

"Its bigg-" he flinched as he realised he was going there anyway. Coughing a little, he tried to change the direction of his comment, "-bigger than I was expecting," he said.

The Doctor looked at him suspiciously.

"I'm starting to have second thoughts," he said grimly.

"Doctor, is the Tardis OK?" Clara asked anxiously, "the dog…"

The Doctor leapt from one panel to another, checking some facts and statistics before he turned to Clara looking frustrated.

"It looks like our Wimbledon visit might be delayed a little longer," he said.

"That's some powerful dog pee," Clara frowned.

"The dog found a weak spot," the Doctor told her, "the Tardis is designed to repel rainwater, galactic dust, even the occasional meteor but the chemical composition of dog urine is its weakness!"

"Have you never experienced a…" Jake hesitated, "leg-cocking incident before?" he asked.

"Aside from the time I had a little too much of the local liquid delicacy –"

"Doctor, he doesn't need to know about that," Clara hushed him frantically.

"So," Jake tried to move the conversation on a little "what exactly does it mean? Can it be fixed?"

"It can be fixed but can't be hurried," The Doctor told him.

"How long will it take?" Jake asked.

"About as long as it takes for dog urine to dry." He looked at Jake. "Do you have any idea how long that would be?"

Jake blushed furiously as he admitted,

"Unfortunately I do. Never go to the Canine Division's annual Easter tea."

"It'll take until tomorrow morning for the delicate fabric of space and time to dry," the Doctor continued.

"Ahh," Jake cleared his throat, "I wasn't sure how long space and time would take to dry. I was personally referring to trousers."

"And by then she should be in a position to complete the last of the repairs. A little fine tuning and we should be on our way around a day from now."

"A day?" Clara cried.

"Don't worry," the Doctor began, "it just gives us an extra twenty four hours to work up our anticipation before the big match!" he made a motion that was supposed to symbolise serving in a tennis match but ended with Jake clutching his eye in pain. "Sorry," the Doctor apologised.

"Doctor," Clara hissed, "unless you haven't noticed there is a large man with a bad tie waiting outside who seems to have taken exception to you. I don't fancy sharing a packet of crisps and a cup of tea with him while we wait for the ship to dry out."

"He's warming to me," the Doctor said confidently.

"I don't think he is, unless by warming you mean 'seething'."

The Doctor looked a little more nervous. He swallowed and straightened up his bow tie.

"He's got twenty four hours to warm to me," he said, "come along –" he turned to Jake, "whoever you were again."

"Jake," said Jake.

"Yes, that."

The Doctor led Clara and Jake out of the Tardis where an angry Gene was waiting, tapping his foot and checking his watch like a game of Sonic the Hedgehog abandoned mid-level.

"Nice of you to come back to say your goodbyes but we don't want to hold you up," he said.

"Ahh," the Doctor began.

Gene narrowed his eyes.

"I hope that 'Ahh' was the start of a sentence about how you'd love to stay but can't possibly intrude."

"Well, no," the Doctor began, "I will be staying for a little more of the… local hospitality," he swallowed as he saw Simon stand alongside Gene with his arms folded.

"How long exactly are you staying for?" he demanded.

"Just a day."

"A day?" Simon cried.

"Tell me you're talking Martian six-minute days and not our twenty four hour ones," Gene scowled.

"Actually a day on Mars is twenty four hours, thirty nine minutes and thirty five seconds," Jake interjected and soon wished he hadn't.

"Which is exactly how long you're going to spend with the filing cabinet if you don't learn when to hold yer tongue, Dawson!" Gene cried.

"We'll be gone this time tomorrow," said Clara.

"And where am I supposed to park my car until then?" Gene started to turn red as his anger rose.

"How about in the driveway at home?" Alex begged, "come on, Gene, I think I've had all the fictional characters I can take for one day."

Gene glanced at Alex who was looking bewildered and hassled, but as he looked back at the Doctor and remembered feeling two heartbeats he knew that Alex was wrong about one thing. This was not a fictional character. He was there, as large as life. He could see the Doctor staring back at him as though he knew exactly what Gene was thinking.

"One day," Gene snapped, "twenty four hours. Then this periwinkle piss-box goes back to whatever corner of the proverbial it came from. Is that clear?"

"Understood," the Doctor nodded.

"A few ground rules," Gene carried on, "stay out of my office. Keep yer nose away from my cases. Don't disturb my team while they're hard at work. And if you point that sonic screwdriver in my direction I'll shove it so far down your throat you'll be able to zap yer underpants, is that clear?"

The Doctor swallowed.

"Perfectly."

"Good," Gene folded his arms, "then get back inside before Batman's mutt brigade mistake you for a fence post and give you the same treatment they gave yer box of horrors."

"Wait," Jake grasped the Doctor's arm as he started to head toward the building, "what about me?" he took a deep breath as the Doctor looked at him questioningly, "Is there any chance… I mean… do you think I could stick with you?" he swallowed, "be your companion?"

"But Clara –"

"Surely there's room for someone else too?" Jake begged, "you've had more than one companion in the past! That Tardis is huge and I don't take up a lot of room."

"I'm not sure about that," the Doctor studied him, "You're a bit lanky."

"Well so are you!" Jake protested.

The doctor stared again and considered for a moment. He scratched his chin, then circled Jake, studying him from every angle. Finally he stopped before him and tilted his head on one side.

"Not bad," he said, "You remind me of someone. Hair could do with a bit of work, but..." he paused as a slightly miffed Jake ran a hand through his subtly bleached locks, "perhaps a trial period would be acceptable. What do you say?"

"I say yes," A smile grew across Jake's face, "Thank you, Doctor!" he saluted as though in the army, "I won't let you down!"

"Good," the Doctor began to pace toward the station. "Come along Clara," he turned to Jake, "Come along, Rory Two."

Jake froze as his heart dropped right into his stomach.

"R-Rory Two?!" he swallowed. He turned to Marci, his face falling, "He… he only wants me to tag along... because I remind him of Rory?"

Marci looked at him sympathetically.

"Sorry. Jake," she said, laying a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

Jake looked down as he slowly started to follow on behind the Doctor. He didn't want to try filling another man's shoes – especially not someone who'd died more times than Kim's hair.