**Ooh, where could Theta be now? I own nothing Doctor-Who-ish, classic Who or otherwise.**

As soon as Theta vanished into thin air (or, in this case, the Time Vortex), the Doctor sighed heavily and slid back into the TARDIS, his coat twirling behind him. Clara didn't try to hide her disappointment. The one time they land on a planet that was actually safe, not to mention a futuristic beach resort, and he wouldn't even consider staying for a day!

With a last glance at paradise, she followed the Doctor and shut the door behind her.

"Where to next?" Clara asked. Naturally, the Doctor was fiddling with the controls and didn't acknowledge her. She approached the console and continued talking anyway. "Theta could be anywhere. But if he's thinking of sticking with the paradises, I'd think he'd head for the planet of horses."

Now he looked at her, eyebrows drawing together as he stared at her across the console. "A planet of horses? There's no such thing."

Despite the joke being her own, Clara was slightly crestfallen at the thought that there was no such thing as a planet covered in rolling plains and thundering hooves. "Really? No horse planets?"

"No horse planets," the Doctor replied. Then he shrugged. "Well, technically there's Gasomyer III, which has flying horses. But they also have claws. And beaks." He frowned. "You know, I don't think they were actually horses."

Clara laughed and leaned against the railing, glad the old Time Lord still had a sense of humor.

But after a few minutes of silence and nothing more from the Doctor except for a few mumbled curses, she thought the answer to her first question was long overdue. "Doctor?"

He glanced up, startled, before relaxing at seeing who it was. Clara was surprised, but then she glared at him. "Did you forget I was here?"

"Uh, no, not at all," the Doctor muttered. His hands were back to their flying dance again. "Of course I knew you were here, of course I did. Believe me, Clara, with your breathing I'd know you were here in the vacuum of space.

He just insulted me! Clara thought. Again! Could he seriously go through a day without insulting somebody? Honestly, with his rudeness, it was a wonder his previous companions didn't trade him in for a different pilot.

She opened her mouth to tell him off, but the Doctor quickly shushed her with a raised hand. "Shh, shh, shut up."

Oh, he did not just tell her to shut up. Once again Clara opened her mouth, undeterred, when the TARDIS chose that moment to blink all of her lights on and off, over and over again. It was like a slow-moving strobe light show.

"Doctor…" She asked the half-darkness.

"Not now," he growled back. The Doctor swiveled the monitor towards him. "Come on, old girl, what's wrong? Eh?" His right hand came up and stroked the side of the monitor. "Let us land. Come on, let us through, we need to catch the rat."

"It's Theta," Clara said.

"Right, him."

She rolled her eyes. "Doctor? Please, tell me what's going on."

The Doctor turned towards her, his arm against the console at a stiff angle. "She's not letting us land. Or something else is preventing us from doing so. Theta's out there…" He pointed to the TARDIS doors. "And we can't get to him because of what's on here…" Another finger jab, this one at the monitor. He frowned. "Wait a second."

Suddenly the console room lurched to the right, then slammed into something hard, before coming to an abrupt halt.

"You alright?" The Doctor called out from his position on the floor on the other side of the console.

"Yeah." No thanks to you, Clara silently added as she crawled up from the steel floor. "Nothing like a good TARDIS thrashing to really get you psyched for an adventure."

He raised his eyebrow at her. "There's no need for that kind of cheek." He frowned. "And anyway, it's not like She actually meant to hurt you. She found a hole in the time vortex and managed to sneak us through." Another glance at the monitor. "Course, she won't hold it for long. Maybe a few minutes."

"Great," Clara said, using her hands to gingerly comb through the tangles in her hair. "A few minutes to find Theta, and no idea where to start. Do we at least have a clue of where we are?"

"She's not giving us a visual, so no. Not yet." Clara was surprised to see the Doctor eye the TARDIS door warily, as if they might explode at any moment.

She followed his gaze, but there didn't seem to be anything wrong with the situation. No flashing lights, no cloister bell, nothing. "What?" Clara asked him. "You going to go see where we are, or…?"

His head briefly flicked towards her, but his eyes never left the doors. "Of course I am, just…" His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "There could be anything out there."

"I thought that was the point of all this." Clara chuckled. "That's where the fun is and all."

She wasn't sure what was going on inside that big Time Lord brain of his, but somehow, he managed to make his way to the doors. Clara followed closely on his heels.

They stepped just outside the TARDIS doors, and found themselves on a deserted street corner. It was so dark they could hardly see each other, despite their proximity, and it was completely silent. The only hint of life was a lone street lamp illuminating a blue wooden gate, which read, "I.M. Foreman Scrap Merchant 76 Totters Lane".

Clara couldn't see him, but she could sense the Doctor tense upon reading those words. "Doctor?" She asked him.

The Doctor didn't answer, but visibly flinched when an old-style car came to a stop across the street from the junkyard. A young woman wearing a striped top, probably a teenager, walked into the pool of light. Clara watched, fascinated, as the woman looked around with furtive glances, before slipping into the blue doors with barely a sound. A moment passed, and then she heard two car doors slam as two people exited the parked car. Clara only had time to see it was a grown man and woman before they followed the woman from before.

"Weird," Clara whispered.

She took a step forward, but the Doctor's hand shot out and grabbed her upper arm. "Inside the TARDIS, now," he growled, not bothering to wait for a response before he pushed her into the ship in front of him.

Just before the doors closed, Clara could have sworn she saw a flash of gold disappear into the junkyard.


The Doctor, old in appearance but in fact the youngest he'll ever be, bit back a shout of surprise. He'd been sifting through the back corner of I.M. Foreman's scrap yard when a golden creature suddenly appeared in front of him. It only took one glance for him to identify it: half eagle, half lion, completely golden, and the size of a small dog. What else could it be but another gryphes de stellis rat?

"Oh, no. I'll not be having the likes of you on my ship," he snapped.

The griffin cocked its head and blinked, before breaking out into a fit of laughter. Its gleeful cackle wasn't particularly loud, but its fit had enough force to make the griffin fall off the box it was perched on.

The Doctor huffed in annoyance. "That must be some joke. But I would have you leave. Now. Before I have to throw you out."

The creature sat up and grinned. It opened its mouth, but thanks to the TARDIS translating circuits, words came out instead of bird-like screeches. You couldn't throw me even if you tried, it said, an evil glint in its eyes. You're too old! And somehow, you haven't changed a bit!

He raised an eyebrow, but inside the Doctor's mind was working hard and fast. Sounded like this creature knew him from his future. Not necessarily a bad thing (certainly a first for him), but he'd rather not have to deal with a paradox at the moment. "Leave, griffin. Go back to wherever you came from. And leave me alone while you're at it."

The griffin stuck its tongue out. Fine. But you'd best get back to your TARDIS. You don't want to keep your guests waiting, do you?

"Guests?" But the infuriating creature just chortled again and blinked out of existence. In the back of his mind the Doctor could feel the aftershocks of the time vortex pulling something out of one time and place and into another.

He swept his gaze over the pile of junk once more. Then, satisfied that nothing else was amiss, the Doctor pulled up his coat and walked at a brisk pace back to the TARDIS. Guests, it had said? Not if he could help it. He'd make sure Susan had returned, and then he'd hightail it for the stars before anyone else could interrupt their perfectly calm, normal lifestyle.


The fourteenth regeneration of that same Doctor put a hand on his forehead. He'd just finished telling Clara the brief summary of what happened at 76 Totters Lane. And, ah, yes, there it was: little Theta's antics suddenly appeared in his vast memory banks. Through some helpful push of the TARDIS, Theta was able to practically insert himself into the Doctor's timeline without causing a paradox. One part of the Doctor was angry; what right did this little rat have to invade his past and create new memories, essentially destroying old ones? But the other part was impressed that the creature was able to do it at all. Must be a gryphes de stellis thing.

"Doctor?" Clara asked, her worry seeping into her tone of voice.

The Doctor opened his eyes and gave her a light grin. "Don't worry your pretty little head over me, Clara. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

She eyed him dubiously, but didn't comment on that topic further. "Has Theta moved?"

One check at the TARDIS monitor confirmed it. "Yes, he has." He jumped up and swept his hands over the console board, twisting various dials as he went. Finally, the Doctor positioned his hand on the launch lever. Was it only this morning that this whole "game" began?

"Ready for the next one?"

She nodded, and he sent them back into the time vortex.


Outside, a grumpy, distrustful, stubborn Time Lord was doing exactly the same thing, his first two human companions on the floor beside him. He didn't notice that the wires for the chameleon circuit had been bitten beyond repair by a very persistent beak.