Chapter 7

Sitting in the back of the police car, wedged in beside the children, the Doctor looked decidedly unhappy. He was sat with his arms folded, openly pouting. Clara was hard pressed not to laugh at him. However, she knew the Doctor was only upset because he couldn't get back to his TARDIS.

Just then, the boy began to giggle. Safara looked at him, and then she began to laugh, also. Uncontrollably laughing, the two of them couldn't seem to stop.

Clara laughed with them, at first. Before she realized something wasn't quite right. The laughter sounded almost...she groped through her mind for the right word. The only one that came to her was, bonkers. She had to yell, because between the children's fits and the policeman shouting at them to settle down, it was the only way she could be heard.

"What's wrong with them?" She asked the Doctor.

"Hysterics. Their minds can't cope. They may be children now, but somewhere inside their brain, part of them is still an adult." The Doctor shouted back, his boy's voice cracking slightly. "The adult and the child are at war with each other. It can drive them quite mad, sometimes."

The policeman finally pulled the car over to the kerb. He got out and opened the door, motioning for the Doctor and Clara to join him.

"Look, you two." He sighed, "I can't drive this way. You need to pipe down, Yeah?"

"And you, constable," the Doctor retorted, "need to let me get to work so I can stop anyone else from getting hurt."

"Listen mate, who are you to go ordering me about, eh? I don't take orders from a kid."

"If it bothers you that much, think of me as your surrogate mum. On second thought, better not. I would look silly wearing a dress at this age."

"Let me get this right. You want me to just let you go on your merry way?"

"By George!" The Doctor slapped the side of his head, "I think he's got it!"

In the car, the two children began wailing even harder.

Sighing and throwing up his hands in resignation, the policeman said,. "OK, OK. I give in. Why don't you both just give me your address and phone numbers, and you can go. I will contact you if I need you for anything. These kids have to be taken to the NPSCC for an eval. Alright?"

"NPSCC?" The Doctor asked. His youthful face scrunched up in puzzlement. "What's the Netherlee Pencil Stylus and Crayon Club have to do with this?"

"I think he means child services, Doctor." Clara said.

"Ah. Right. Of course he does." The Doctor quickly walked away, giving the policeman a backward wave. "Good luck, constable. Have a doughnut on me. Come on then, Clara. Shift yourself. You can have a doughnut later. We're wasting daylight."

"He's a bit rude." The policeman told her. "Still, I suppose these days, that's the norm for someone his age."

"Trust me. It'd be normal for him even if he was a thousand." Clara said, as she bustled to catch up with the Doctor.

"I need to find a way to trace that device. Somehow I don't think my enemies will take me quite as seriously with acne and a squeaky voice."

"Hang on, Doctor." She said. "One of your trouser legs is coming down. Let me fix it." As she finished rolling the trouser back up, Clara stood looking the Doctor skeptically up and down. "I would think you Time Lords would have developed, I dunno', some kind of hormonal replacement therapy or something."

His head came up. Eyes shining, the Doctor embraced her suddenly. "Oooh, Clara. You're a genius! I could kiss you!"

"Ermóbetter not, Doctor. You're a little too young for that." She said, quickly stepping away from him. "I wouldn't want to be questioned by the police again. Third time in one day would be a bit much."

"But, don't you see?" The Doctor told her, his voice breaking pitch in his excitement.

"Nope." She shook her head. "Not a clue."

"That's exactly what I can do! I'd completely forgotten about that particular medical procedure. It's so ancient and primitive, that my people hadn't needed to use it for millions of years. It goes back even before Rassilon's time. Before we evolved into self-regeneration. Back then, we had to use artificial means. I can simply plug my bio scan into the TARDIS matrix circuits and scan my DNA, reproduce the missing extra cellular and genetic material, and basically grow me back to my own age!"

"And then you'll be back to normal again?"

"Theoretically, yes." The Doctor nodded.

"Theoretically? You mean you've never tried it?"

"Well, no. I've only read about it, in the Great Medical Text of Artimathesis. But I'm sure it will work. It's not like rebuilding myself from scratch. That would be nearly impossible."

"And if it doesn't work?" Clara asked, suddenly concerned.

"Oh, I'll probably either turn into a infant, or stay the way I am forever." He answered blithely, as they walked up to the TARDIS. " It's sort of like pulling the lever on a fruit machine." He grinned at her, "You won't know what you get until those wee fruits stop spinning around. I could simply age to death and never regenerate."

Back                         Home                              Doctor Who Main Page                          Next

Your Name or Alias:      Your E-mail (optional):

Please type your review below. Only positive reviews and constructive criticism will be posted.