I saw the trailer for Season Five! It looked brilliant! Except for the kissing. I'm hoping it was alien-mindcontrol-induced kissing, gah.


The Doctor woke up one morning with the terrible certainty that there was something horribly wrong with the world. The problem was that he didn't know exactly what.

He thought about it as he made himself coffee. Coffee didn't actually do anything to him but he liked the noise of the coffee grinder. He'd bought a particularly loud one just for this purpose.

Amy came in, hands over her ears. "Shut that thing up, will you?" she grumbled and started to fry an omlette on the TARDIS' stovetop.

He shut it off. He started humming under his breath. And we're banned from Argo, everyone, he sang inside his head. Banned from Argo, just for having a little fun. We spent a jolly shore leave there for just three days or-

"Oh do shut up," Amy said good-naturedly, flipping her omelette.

He stared at her for a moment before deciding to be offended. "My humming is brilliant," he informed her. "I've won awards."

"What, in the Tone Deaf Society Talent Show?" she inquired.

"None of my other companions ever complained," he told her. "Rose loved my humming. Rose loved me, you know. It was great."

"I'm sure," Amy said, doing that weird thing with her eyebrows. She flipped her omelette onto her plate, grabbed the salt, and then left the room.

The Doctor stared at her retreating red hair and gorgeous calves and suddenly everything clicked into place and he knew what the terrible, horrible, awful, universe-threatening calamity was. It was worse than his darkest nightmares. He stood frozen, slack-jawed, limbs paralyzed by the extreme horror. No. It couldn't be true. But it was.

The question was, what was he going to do about it?

He would come up with a cunning plan, the Doctor realized. That was always a good idea.

"Run!" the Doctor yelled, grabbing Amy's hand. They sprinted across the field of shiny black rock, phasers firing in the distance and mines going off all around them.

"What did we ever do to them?!" Amy yelled.

"Er," the Doctor panted. "Um, I might have, ah, accidentally killed their god, but it was all a terrible misunderstanding, really-"

He was certain that if they weren't running for their lives she'd be giving him that Look. Lucky break there then.

They skidded to a stop in front of a sheer cliff. They were trapped. The Doctor was delighted. Time to execute Plan A!

"We're going to die," he said dramatically, rending his conveniently long hair. He gave her an intense, smouldering look. "Is there anything you want to tell me before we are horribly ripped to pieces and processed into plastic?"

Amy thought about it for a second. "I think your hair is ridiculous," she said eventually.

The Doctor was too depressed to take offense. "You're sure?"

Now she used the Look. The Doctor recoiled. "All right, fine," he said sullenly, and handed her an Insta-Gro Parachute.

"We spent a jolly shore leave there for just three days or four,
But Argo doesn't want us any more, any more, any moo-ooo-oore-"

"Doctor, if you don't stop singing right now, I am going to strangle you!" Amy said, banging on the door. To her surprise, it opened, confronting her with rather more of the Doctor than she usually got to see.

"I mean it!" she said, waggling her finger at him.

"Go away!" the Doctor yelled theatrically. "I'm NAKED!"

"Yeah, I noticed that, thanks," Amy said, and slammed the door closed on her way out.

The Doctor ran his fingers through his soapy hair, a look of disappointment on his face. Dejectedly, he began to apply the second coat of passionfruit scented conditioner.

"Doctor! You're alive!" Amy cried, giving him a hug. The Doctor clung to her hopefully. She patted him on the head. "Well, they don't seem to have harmed your hair, so I suppose the rest of you's all right. Now, I've been talking to the resistance leader, and they know a secret passage into the spacedocks."

The Doctor let go, and gave her a weird look.

"What?" Amy asked.

"Nothing," the Doctor said sulkily.

"Well, we're locked in a cell," the Doctor told Amy, settling his skinny shoulders back against the bars. "Looks like it's going to be hours. And they'll execute us in the morning."

"You don't have to sound so cheerful about it," Amy said mournfully. She was dying for a cup of tea and General Hospital.

"Let's make passionate love," the Doctor suggested.

"Let's not," Amy said absent-mindedly, wondering if green amphibian creatures had medical soaps.

"The Captain's tastes were simple, but his methods were complex.
We found him with five partners, each of a different world and sex.
The Shore Police were on the way-we had no second chance.
We beamed him up in the nick of time-and the remnants of his pants."

"Nothing I tried worked," the Doctor moaned. "I'm starting to believe it."

"Believe what, Doc?" Jack slurred, focussing his eyes on his Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.

"She's not in love with me! Not even the tiniest eensy weensy bit!"

Jack blinked. "Ah?" he hazarded intelligently.

"ALL of my companions are in love with me!" the Doctor exclaimed, waving his arms about. He was on his third glass of ginger beer and had become very expressive.

"Doctor," Jack said quietly, "this wasn't how I imagined buying you a drink was going to go."

"I just don't understand it!" the Time Lord wept. He turned to Jack, grabbed his shoulders. "Jack, I'm attractive, aren't I?"

Jack smirked. "Well, I think so," he said. "But it's possible your new kid... isn't interested in, you know..."

"What?" the Doctor demanded, hair falling over his eyes.

"Younger men," Jack finished, grinning like he did at the punchline to a particularly filthy joke.

The Doctor gaped, dumbfounded. After stammering for a bit, he managed to find his voice. "I- I- I'm over a thousand, I'll have you know, whippersnapper!"

Jack turned to the bartender, banging his glass on the table. "Another round, please!" he shouted, and launched into the seventh verse. "Our Doctor loves Humanity; his private life is quiet.
The Shore Police arrested him for inciting whores to riot. We found him in the city jail, locked on and beamed him free-
Intact except for hickeys and six kinds of VD!"

"You do that just to annoy me, don't you," the Doctor moaned.

"Of course, my sweet philanthropist," Jack laughed. Ah. There was the next round. He shoved the ginger beer towards the alien and picked up his own Gargle Blaster. "How does the chorus go again?" he inquired as he poured the acidic alcohol down his throat.

"Our Engineer would yield to none at putting down the brew;
He out-drank seven space marines and a demolition crew.
The Navigator didn't win, but he out-drank almost all,
And now they've got a shuttlecraft on the roof of City Hall."

"Good for her," Martha said firmly.

"But Ma-arthaaaa-!"

"Go sleep it off, now; you're a disgrace, and I can't be having drunk Lords of Time in my flat."

"But Martha, everyone falls in love with me! You did, didn't you?"

"Donna wasn't in love with you," Martha said diplomatically.

"Yes she was."

"Donna? No."

"She so was."

"Was not."

"Was too."

Clearly she wasn't going to get anything constructive done that night. Martha sighed, and put down her pen.

"I was not in love with you," Sarah Jane told him.

"What, even last week when we had wild kinky sex on your kitchen counter?"

Sarah could feel herself beginning to turn red. "Well, you were older then," she says defensively. "And I've never been able to resist sideburns. It doesn't mean anything."

"I'M NOT THAT YOUNG, DAMMIT!" the Doctor yelled at the Multiverse.

"Why are you asking me for advice about women? For one thing, I've never much bothered with them; for another, I'm dead."

"You still love me, don't you?"

"..."

"Don't you?"

"...yes. You bastard."

"I knew it! I knew you still cared!"

"My goodness, what a marvelous reversal of positions we are in. Regardless, I am still dead, so let me get some nice rest in peace, please."

"Come on, Koschei-"

"What do you want me to say? I'm just a computer-calculated simulation, one you yourself designed. And we all know how narcissistic you are."

"Fine. But you'll regret it when Amy and I start holding hands and staring soulfully into each other's eyes."

"Terminate program, PLEASE."

When we pulled into Argo Port in need of R&R,
The crew set out investigating every joint and bar.
We had high expectations of their hospitality,
But found too late it wasn't geared for spacers such as we.

The Doctor was a bit worried, and a bit annoyed. He couldn't seem to find Amy. He had been right about to launch into this brilliant speech that would prove beyond a doubt how incredibly clever he was, and then he had noticed that she wasn't there. Oh well. The planet was saved, the monarchy restored, the beautiful princess in his debt, the festival in his honor declared; everything was just swell and they could leave, he supposed. "AMY!" he bellowed. "WE'RE GOING!" After a second he yelled again, "AMY!"

He eventually found her half an hour later, in one of the castle linen closets, snogging the princess. "Oh," he said, embarrassed, "excuse me," and he shut the door and stared at his trainers in consternation before deciding to go and check on the festival and make sure they spelled his name right.

The lyrics here used are from "Banned from Argo", a very famous Trek filk song.