GERTI lurched as she came to a stop – sending Captain sprawling across the controls and Douglas launched into the door. "Breaks on again?" Douglas asked from the floor.

"Yep. Don't feel special, I've always done that," Captain groaned as he hauled himself off the dials.

"So this is Venice in the Renaissance?" Douglas asked.

"I hope so; it's been a while since I handled the old girl…" Captain stated.

"You opened the Fob watch? After I told you it was dangerous?"

"Mr Crieff, Douglas opened the watch, not me."

"I'm your father Martin, I raised you! Ever since I found you when you were two years old, running around the boardwalk in Brighton, with that note in your pocket explaining that your father couldn't take care of you and – bizarrely – to keep that Fob watch in your sight and never let you open it."

"I want to know who I come from. I don't know my biological father – I don't remember him – I only remember that I'm not human, not properly."

"What?!"

"I'm a Timelord, an alien from the planet Gallifrey. "

"… I think opening that watch must have made you lose your mind, Martin…"

"No, not Martin. Call me The Captain. And I am sane… ish."

"How long has it been?" Douglas asked.

"At least thirty nine years…" Captain admitted.

"How do we know if we are in the right time and place?"

"I'll check one of the monitors…" Martin pulled down a scene so thin it basically blended into the metal ceiling, "There we are; Venice 1492, the most prosperous city in the world!"

"Let's go explore, then! I have a feeling that Cima da Conegliano is painting Madonna and Child with Saint Jerome and Saint John the Baptist around this time…"

"Right you are! We can certainly pop in to see dear Giovanni; I don't think he'll be thrilled to see me again after last time though…"

"You know Cima da Conegliano!" Douglas gaped.

"Who do you think inspired him to make Madonna's child ginger?" Martin asked, smiling proudly, "Although last time I popped in a Dalek sort of… Incinerated a painting he'd been working on for a year…"

"Oh my God…"

"Don't look at me like that, it's not like I did it!"

"No, what's a Dalek and what do you mean 'incinerated'?"

"They're aliens who hate me more than anything else; they're an extra-terrestrial race of cyborgs. I don't really know too much about them – only that they loathe me for some reason…"

"And here I thought I was going on holiday."

"Dad! Dad!"

"What is it, Marty?"

"Another bad dream!"

"The Delaks again?"

"Daleks!"

"Yes, those."

"I could feel myself burning…"

"You're eight, Marty; too old to sleep in your parents' bed."

"Sorry."

"Well… It has the potential to be a little dangerous. There are some hostile life forms. Cybermen aren't great either…"

"So what are the odds I'm going to die?"

"More than mine."

"What are yours?"

"Almost none, I'll just regenerate."

"Regenerate? What do you –?"

"Andiamo!" Captain announced before almost dragging Douglas off GERTI.

"Alright, but we can only stay a few hours…"

"Douglas, I have a time machine. We could go through all of space and time and I could still get us back in time for tea."