**August is coming, and with it, arrives the Doctor’s twelfth incarnation, played by Peter Capaldi. But before August 23rd rolls around, I’ve decided to try my hand at writing an episode for the newcomer. Nothing too drastic, just a little adventure that references Gallifrey and adds a brand new creature. (Well, new to the Doctor Who universe, anyway.)
But first, I think an introduction might be in order, since I’ve had to create this Doctor with little to no help from the current episodes. For this Fanfic, I’ve made the twelfth Doctor more hands-on than his previous forms, using his sonic screwdriver less and less. Clara has, for the most part, remained unchanged (though shoot me on the spot if I didn’t make a few tweaks to her Moffat-ness). I also chose to not include the newest companion, Danny Pink. Obviously, this Fanfic may prove useless after August, but for now, I hope you enjoy “Beast of the Past”!**
The TARDIS hummed in contentment as her two passengers chatted around the base of her console.
“And then I said, ‘What’s the name of his other leg?’” One of the travelers, a man, said, and he and his female companion burst out laughing.
“You did not!” She retorted.
“I did! Oh, you should have seen his face.” Their laugh subsided to a soft chuckle, and then to a contented silence. The man, who was most commonly known as the Doctor, absently picked at the sleeve of the black velvet coat he wore. His outfit was relatively simple, just a black coat with buttons over a black vest and a white undershirt, all over black pants and black formal shoes. But its simplicity concealed the intricate man beneath, a man still recovering from dark memories of his past.
His companion, Clara Oswin Oswald, wore similar attire. A black sweater barely covered a scarlet tank top, which was further accented by a black skirt, black tights, and black boots. She also had a simple golden chain around her neck, a golden bangle on her wrist, and matching earrings dangling from her earlobes. Her chestnut brown hair hung in loose curls, and she was practically bouncing off the ground with youthful enthusiasm. It was the beginning of a new day on the TARDIS (or however close one came to “day” inside a time machine), and the Doctor had promised that they’d go see a royal space-banquet today.
But then Clara saw that the Doctor was not surpassing her excitement (or even matching it), and she deflated a little. This new Doctor was the same man, and yet, after his last regeneration, it seeming like a part of him had vanished. Namely, the youthful, 2-year-old part. Wavy brown strands of hair had been replaced by grey bristles. Youthful green irises and a smooth complexion had been swapped for hawk-like blue eyes and wrinkles. Clara had enjoyed the few months she had had with the old Doctor, her first Doctor. Now she missed how excited he used to get over the most mundane things, how bouncy and lively he had been…this new Doctor seemed to treat the whole “running” thing like a chore. She stared at the Doctor in front of her and said, “You’ve changed so much.”
The Doctor smiled ruefully and turned to fiddle with the TARDIS controls. “Have I?” he muttered, as if to himself.
They lapsed into silence and Clara looked down as she began to fiddle with her bangles. She hadn’t meant to insult him. Clara bit her lip and mentally kicked herself for not thinking before she spoke.
When she looked up again, the Doctor was staring right at her, eyebrows scrunched up like he was contemplating the meaning of the universe. Again. Then Clara began imagining the previous Doctor trying to do the same thing with his non-existent eyebrows, and the image nearly caused her to burst out laughing.
“What?” The Doctor asked, relaxing his face and cocking his head to the side as he regarded Clara’s barely suppressed smile. A smile that only grew bigger when she realized just how much this grumpy old Time Lord looked like a bird in that moment.
She smiled, shrugged her shoulders, and quickly replied, “Show me a magic trick.”
The Doctor smiled wickedly in reply, when suddenly there was a tremendous crash and the entire TARDIS shook violently. Clara and the Doctor were thrown against the console’s handlebars, and remained there until the vibrations calmed. The Doctor quickly grabbed for his ship’s controls, both to steady himself and the TARDIS.
Clara slowly regained her footing and gasped for breath. “Some trick!”
“That wasn’t me!” The Doctor hastily checked the monitor, and was stunned by what he saw. The TARDIS was still floating in the same space in the universe, but in the distance a dark blob was quickly disappearing. In response to his companion’s questioning glance, he said, “It seems we were nearly hit by a flying object.”
“Oh, how descriptive!” Clara shot back, before she had to duck to avoid a clump of sparks that suddenly burst from above her. “Now what?”
“We do what we always do,” The Doctor replied amiably. But when Clara glanced up at him, she saw that that spark of adventure had found its way back into the Doctor’s eyes. “We follow it!” And with that, he grinned like a maniac and yanked a lever.
The TARDIS pitched and heaved as it began to madly pursue the projectile. They nearly lost it as the object somehow found its way into the Time Vortex, but soon both the prey and the predator burst out into empty space.
It was not so empty after all. The Doctor took one look at the monitor to see where they had popped out, and groaned inwardly. “Not again,” he muttered, too soft for Clara to hear.
As the flying object entered the nearby planet’s atmosphere, the Doctor rushed to the other side of the TARDIS and began the materializing cycle.
The ship appeared in the middle of a circle of grass and shrubs on Earth, surrounded by thick green trees. But even after the TARDIS finished materializing, the Doctor put his hand out to hold Clara back from the entrance. “Wait for it…” he growled.
Protected as they were in the TARDIS, the only sound that signaled the projectile’s arrival was a faint boom and a distant rumble. Clara looked at the door dubiously. “Doctor?” she ventured.
“Don’t worry,” the Doctor answered as he straightened his coat and strode forward towards the TARDIS exit. “It’s just saying hello.”
Outside the TARDIS, relative peace had returned quicker than the Doctor had expected. Except for a few disgruntled trees and fleeing wildlife, silence had returned to the glen. Either they had landed in the most rural spot in 21st century Earth, or this flying object was much smaller than the Doctor had thought.
Clara emerged from the TARDIS after him, at a more cautious speed, and saw that the Doctor had already begun to search for the crash site. His head was turned to the sky as he scanned the tops of the trees for smoke.
She twisted the scarf she had snagged from the railing around her neck in agitation. Why was he wasting time staring and looking and doing all the other boring things humans do to search for answers, instead of just using the sonic screwdriver in his back pocket? Clara knew it was there. She’d tried to pick-pocket him once just to see if he’d notice its disappearance. The Doctor hadn’t been too pleased at her attempts, but it wasn’t like he actually used the device. His previous form had treated his sonic screwdriver with reverence, like it was a fundamental part of his genetic make-up. This Doctor hadn’t even touched his red-tipped screwdriver since he’d gotten it several weeks ago.
When the Doctor continued to ignore her, she coughed impatiently and said, “Are you telling me that you’re looking for something that could have crash-landed anywhere, and you’re don’t even know what it looks like?”
“It was going too fast! And besides, where’s the fun in that? Much better to be surprised.” He turned to Clara and saw that she was still not convinced. “Oh, come on, Clara, where’s your sense of adventure? Who knows what will discover. Wandering the wide-open universe, kicking up your shoes on every new trail…even you can’t say no to that.”
No, Clara sighed, she very well couldn’t. She loved every part of universe, from the evilest planets to the most beautiful, intergalactic sunset. No matter what the Doctor looked like, he was still her ticket to the stars, and she wouldn’t pass that up for the world.
She opened her mouth to say something, perhaps even apologize for her blunt behavior, when the Doctor raised his eyes and spied what he was looking for: a thin column of smoke dancing and weaving above the trees. “There you are.” He said, the impish twinkle returning to his eyes as he abruptly turned from Clara and strode confidently into the trees.
Clara bit her lip and sighed. Cutting off meaningful conversations just as they started getting to the heart of the matter…yep, he was the Doctor alright.
**Liking what you see? Tell me! Please leave a comment if you have time.**
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