TimeTrap: Part One

The TARDIS was humming quietly, peacefully, happy to be free of the Escorix menace and the temporal strain of holding eleven Doctors, in one form or another, inside her dimensionally transcendent walls. Javis Nine, the bareknuckle boxer of New Earth, sat with her feet up on the console, reading a loved and well worn copy of Oliver Twist. The Doctor burst into the console room from the ship’s interior with his usual burst of bombast and excitement, whipping his sack coat about him.
“Colleen’s all right, but she says she wants to rest a bit more. Nasty things, those Escorix. Now! On we go, into the unknown!” He proclaimed, slamming levers, flipping switches, turning dials, and running maniacally around the ship’s center console to do so. Javis, her legs being the only obstacle to the Doctor making a complete circuit, peeked out from the corner of her book as the strange, portly man flipped one switch, took her propped legs into account, and took the long way round to flip a switch on the other side of her feet.
“You look ridiculous,” she said flatly, going back to her book. The Doctor stopped momentarily, appraising his own sack suit, plus fours, and long argyle socks to match a pullover vest. As an added flourish, the Doctor had amended his goatee into a Van Dyke topped with a waxed and curled handlebar moustache. After a moment’s reflecting, the Doctor stood, arms akimbo, tall and proud.
“I don’t care what you think,” he said a little petulantly, “because today we’re going to be going to a place where I will be appreciated for my… haute couture,” he readjusted the Nicky knot on his navy blue necktie, smiling broadly.
“The Karron system?” Javis didn’t break stride with her retort, turning a page nonchalantly. The Doctor furrowed his eyebrow and narrowed his eyes, drawing his face into a pout. Apparently bested, he returned to his switches and dials, allowing Javis a small laugh. He was like a child at times, this Doctor, never happy with staying still and always looking for the next adventure, the next source of amusement and intrigue. Still, she has seen things she never thought she’d seen, and she’d learned so much…and someone had to make sure this idiot didn’t get himself killed, right?
Before she could answer her own question, the entire TARDIS bucked roughly to the right, sending Javis’ feet up over her head and over the railing behind her chair. The Doctor, on the other side of the console, held on for dear life as the craft shook violently, sparks showering from every direction, warning sirens blaring. Finally, after what seemed like a terrified eternity, the ship righted itself and continued course.
“It’s all right, it’s all right!” The Doctor shouted, waving smoke away from his face and coughing, “just a temporary temporal fluctuation, a bump in the road, nothing to worry about!”
“I’m fine, thanks!” Javis screamed from a heap on the floor, “and next time tell me before we crash headlong into a bloody Time Cow!”
“What?” The Doctor poked his head around the time rotor, a column that extended from the console to the ceiling.
“Feels like we ran over something,” Javis said, getting up and dusting herself off.
“Bosh, Javis!” the Doctor said with a dry chuckle, “there aren’t physical obstacles in the time vortex, don’t be ridiculous!”
“This coming from Captain Socks.”
“It’s always the socks, isn’t it?” The Doctor sighed in exasperation, “why is it always the socks?”
“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”
“Brute.”
“Ass.”
The two glared at each other across the console, blue eyes locked on brown, unblinking and unflinching. Then, as if on command, both burst into grins, their faces tinged green by the console lights. Springing upright, both raced each other to the TARDIS door, pulling on a tan overcoat and a beaten black leather jacket, respectively. Pulling on a tan eight-panel cap, the Doctor reached the door first, holding a restraining arm out in front of an encroaching Javis. The fighter stopped in her tracks, humoring the odd fellow, as this was his favorite part of every journey. With clipped diction and carefully chosen words, the Doctor began.
“Outside this door will be Anno Domini nineteen hundred and aught five. The English countryside has never looked better, or more modern, yet untainted by the twin spectres of war and modern dischord. The Empire is still strong, and so is the tea, and the people have such an air of class about them that it will make your heart burst. These are your ancestors, Javis, at their very peak of refinement. Listen…and learn.”
He threw open the door with a flourish, treating Javis’ eyes to an impossibly green country pasture under a brilliant blue sky. Fluffy, white clouds scudded by and the sun beat down merrily, giving the panorama a might brighter hue than their overcast night spent in Ireland. All in all, the scene was gorgeous, picturesque, and unlike anything the New Human had ever seen in her life billions of years into the future.
“Doctor, it’s beautiful.”
“Isn’t it just?” The Doctor stood beside her, hands in his pockets, inhaling deeply, “but then again, everywhere we go has a certain kind of beauty…don’t you agree?”
“I’ll let you know when the cyber-zombies start attacking just how beautiful this is,” Javis scoffed. After spending this much time with the man, she knew to expect that a trip was usually more than just a trip.
“Oh, I don’t think you’ll find any of that here, Miss Nine,” the Doctor chuckled, “after dealing with all of those aggravating past incarnations of mine, I thought we could use a bit of a vacation. Don’t you agree?”
“Too right,” Javis nodded, “But what about Colleen? Are you sure we shouldn’t go get her? I feel bad leaving her all alone, and I know she’s got a lot to sort out, but–”
The Doctor raised his index finger calmly, silencing Javis with a smile. He pointed the index finger to the starched collar of his white pinpoint shirt. Located beneath the knot of the necktie was a golden bar that attached itself to each of the collar points.
“This collar bar is harmonically linked and synced to Colleen’s cybernetic brain. In the event she should want to contact us, or if she feels well enough to come along on holiday, I will know. Satisfied?”
“I guess,” Javis said with a shrug, although you still look like a prat in that outfit.”
Because the TARDIS tended to cause a bit of shock upon materialisation in the Edwardian period, the Doctor and Javis found themselves going for a stroll down the well-worn path, the Doctor using what Javis hoped was a compass to guide them. To her relief, a village began to appear on the horizon, but to her dismay, as she approached she realized with horror that the Doctor was right.
“Blimey,” she said with goggling eyes, “all of these weirdos dress like you!”

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