**Sixth Doctor time! Yeah, I'm just gonna pretend the Doctor and Clara are eating biscuits in front of the TARDIS monitor. I don't want to spend this pet project writing characters I don't particularly enjoy working with. The episode I'm playing with today is "The Two Doctors", the one where the second Doctor and Jamie make an appearance.**
Oh no, Theta muttered. What happened?
The griffin was on his back, lying on what felt like tile. Above him were three men: one wearing Scottish garb (he silently thanked the TARDIS for that information), one tied to a wheelchair, and the last one…
"Finally you ask a good question upon arrival," the third man said, bending to work on the second man's bonds. "We're in Spain and a cannibal is after us."
No, no, I don't care about that, Theta grumbled. Your vest…what's wrong with it?
"Exactly what I was going to say," the man in the wheelchair said.
The third man wrinkled his nose and self-consciously smoothed the front of his outrageous doublet. Theta thought he spotted an earthen-cat broch on his collar. "What's wrong with it?"
The Scottish man was utterly confused. "What what said? Where did this chicken come from?"
Chicken?!
"Oh, smooth your feathers, Theta," the colorful man drawled. "There's only one cannibal here and he won't be interested in the likes of you."
"Theta?" The man in the wheelchair squinted at the griffin. "It has a name? And that particular name, at that?"
That voice, and that face…it was familiar! Doctor! Theta squawked.
"Yes." Both men responded in unison. The Scottish man seemed to have lost control of his jaw.
Theta groaned. Doctor, do you even know the meaning of stealth?
"I'm afraid I don't like the concept. Too slow, in my opinion."
The second Doctor huffed in amusement. "Not his style, is what he means. If he has one."
The sixth Doctor gaped in shock. "Well, I have never had to deal with such abuse! It's your fault I was spouting rhymes about jelly babies and recorders not too long ago!"
"Ah, yes, I forgot about my dear recorder," the "younger" Doctor said. "I do hope you haven't cracked it."
Suddenly Theta was hoisted into the air by his tail. He squawked in surprise and kicked himself for not seeing the Scotsman sneak up on him sooner.
"Does it speak? The Scotsman asked, eyeing Theta suspiciously. "It looks like a griffin. Englishmen would put them on their shields."
"It's an alien, Jamie: a gryphes de stellis, and unfortunately yes, he speaks" the sixth Doctor replied. "They're star travelers, and this one has taken to piggy-backing on my TARDIS for several regenerations now."
The second Doctor looked at Theta in surprise. "Has he, now? Good to see this won't be the last I'll see of this runt."
Aww, you really mean that?
"Only right now he does," the sixth Doctor muttered. He grinned. "Of course, that's one more thing to wipe from your memory, ay Doctor?"
"Don't remind me."
Theta glared at Jamie. He seemed to get the message. "I still think you look like a chicken," he grumbled, before setting his prize down on the floor.
Suddenly, the griffin froze and perked his ears up. He hissed. Someone's coming.
"The cannibal!" The sixth Doctor shouted.
He and Jamie quickly wheeled the second Doctor down the hallway, but they couldn't get far enough before the door started rattling. "Too late!" Jamie hissed.
"Extemporize," the sixth Doctor told his previous incarnation. The second Doctor quickly dropped his head, as if he were asleep. Theta took his cue and curled up on the Doctor's lap as tightly as possible.
"Get out of here, gryphes," the second Doctor hissed as his future incarnation and Jamie rushed up the nearby stairs.
I can help! Theta hissed back.
Then the door was open, and Theta squeezed his eyes shut. He could hear wheezing like someone was carrying something heavy.
On second thought…he doesn't sound too nice.
The person walked by them, reeking of rotten meat. "Wake up, lone Time Lord," it snapped. "Supper will soon be served!"
The cannibal laughed evilly and turned to go into the kitchen, but then he froze. Was something on the Doctor's lap? He turned around quickly, but the Doctor's lap was bare. He shrugged, blaming his hunger and poor eyesight, and he strode into the kitchen.
"Brave but not stupid," the sixth Doctor muttered to himself. "I like that."
