Common Ground


Spoilers: For everything. Up and through Big Bang.


The TARDIS shuddered and wailed in its eternally infamous song of landing. The blue box formed quickly from out of dimensions unknown, fading from the nothingness into the physical world. And as usual, nobody noticed.

The blue doors popped open with the owner's usual energy. The owner popped out in equal style, practically bouncing out of the TARDIS doors in a rush of enthusiasm. New places, new faces, new experiences, he figured, grinning almost from ear to ear. This was his natural habitat: the universe. He turned to shout into the open doors, "Amy! Rory! We seem to be in London!" He heard the shouts back, one fine with the destination (Rory) and one begging for something more original (Amy). He simply smirked and looked about his surroundings.

Noticing a person passing by, he quickly rushed after them, trying not to look too, as Amy would call it, 'alienish'. "Excuse me, would you know the date?"

The person stopped and regarded him with an expression that not even he could pick up. "The twenty-first of June, of course."

His 'Doctor-sense' was tingling. This was where the 'alienish' part came in. "But what year?"

Startled, but taking it better than most (she probably thought he was a drunkard). "1968. I know it's hard to keep track. After all it's only been six months since 1967."

Alarm bells with the volume and intensity as cloister bells rang through his mind, but never one to be rude, he simply said, "Thank you."

He barely noticed as the pedestrian continued on her merry way. He was too busy processing this new information through his mind. 'No,' He thought. 'It wasn't time to…' His thoughts were brutally cut off by a near-by street sign, reading: Tupper Lane. He could hear the sound of his hearts beating, the noise filling the silence where his breathing used to be. 'Every time,' His thoughts raced. 'I'm surprised by this. Is that what this is? The eternal surprise?'

The Time-Lord sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his face with an oncoming sense of exhaustion.


Amy's call made him jump a bit before he turned and smiled at her reassuringly. "Amy," He started with a tone that he hoped made her get the point. "There's been a change of plans."

"What?" Rory appeared at the TARDIS doors too.

The Doctor sighed. "It's June 21st 1968."


"So, this is something extremely," He emphasized the word, hitting a level of seriousness that could not be brought on except in the case of pure emotion. He said again, even stronger, desperate to get the point across. "Extremely personal. I need to do something for a few hours, and then we can go anywhere the two of you want. But for right now, I need you to stay here." He pointed at the ground below his feet. "And not follow me. I promise it's nothing dangerous. You don't have to worry about me. I know for a fact that I will be back in a few hours."

Amy's face filled with a mixture of confusion, worry, and frustration but mostly concern. "You sure?"

He nodded. "Yes. Do you promise to stay in the TARDIS until I get back?"

Amy exchanged a look with Rory, the couple seeming to measure the almost frantic plea from before. They both turned to him and nodded.

Smiling smally, The Doctor seemed content at this. "Call me in case of emergency." He paused. "Well, I say emergency… what I really mean is the 'it's-the-end-of-the-world emergency' not the 'Rory-accidently-set-himself-on-fire' emergency."


The Doctor shrugged. "See you in a few hours." He turned away from them and started walking in the direction that had become so familiar to him. He could feel the concerned gazes of his companions, but there was nothing the Doctor could do for them except return, as he said, in a few hours.

Turning a corner, he spotted sight of it. Tupper Lane Café. 'I've landed even closer than usual.' He thought, walking towards the small building with purpose. He reached to open the door, taking the plunge. And inside he found-

No one.

Well obviously, there were about three or four other people in the café, but nobody that he was expecting. He stood there, confused, for about a minute before the man behind the counter shouted at him to shut the door before the air conditioning bill went up. The Doctor closed the door, eyes scanning the familiar café surroundings. Spotting sight of a wall-clock, he realized that he had about two minutes before anybody he knew showed up.

'This is new.' He walked over to the counter and ordered an Earl Grey. He waited about a minute before the man handed him his fresh-smelling, warm beverage, he took the smell in, slowly walking towards one of the back booths before he realized what he was doing. Taking the first few sips, he quickly looked up as the door dinged as it was opened. He froze. 'I remember this…'

An older man walked through the doors of the café, walking with an attitude that could be related to a headmaster walking through a crowd of students. His hair was white, his clothes formal but his eyes reflected a greater sense of wisdom, humor and a touch of rebellion. This was a man who could never resist a mystery, an adventure… or a chance to run to better places.

The Doctor grinned at the sight of him. 'Here was the beginning,' He mused delightedly. 'In all its glorious form.'

He knew that the old man was grieving, in a sense. He remembered the loss of Susan well. The former musings from his past of how Susan was not truly lost, just away. Far gave Susan away. Away to a better life. Isn't that what mattered? Isn't that why he'd taken her in the first place?

He watched as the first Doctor took his tea and scone and made his way to a booth, with a clear view of the outside world from the window. He watched, as his younger (and yet oldest) self stared into the world, wondering if he could feel that kind of love for anybody ever again.

'If only he knew.' Reflected the Doctor, thoughts of Rose, Sarah Jane, Adric, Tegan, Jack, Donna, and many others filling his mind.

About four sections later, the café door dinged for the second time. Another man, dressed in a newer-looking form of formal, younger than the last but the thing that really stood out from most men that you'd pass in the street was his Beatle's style mop-top hair. The look was too young for him, but the air about him was one that seemed to convince onlookers that he simply didn't care.

'And I didn't." The current Doctor was trying his best not to grin, not to add to this any of this memory until the right time came. He needed to keep calm.

The mop-topped man walked into the room, walking straight past the white-haired man in the booth, humming. He made it all the way to the counter, saying, "I'll have a…" Before stopping completely and whipping around to stare at his former self. He whipped back to the man behind the counter, back to the first Doctor, back to counter-man and so forth a few times before adding "scone." To the end of his previously unfinished sentence. Counter-man, as the present Doctor remembered starting mentally calling him that in his second regeneration, simply gave him the usual 'your-a-nutter' look before handing the second Doctor his scone.

The second Doctor whipped back around to his younger/older self, obviously weighing some options. Then, he sucked in some air with confidence and marched up to the first Doctor, who was till gazing out of the window forlornly.

"Excuse me, do you like music?"

The first Doctor jumped at he words, suddenly finding himself in the present. "Pardon?"

"Do you like music?" The second Doctor said, overly pronouncing the sentence in a clearer form.

The white-haired man didn't answer, giving him a look of puzzlement.

Taking this in stride, the second Doctor, raised his eyebrows and smirked a little before pulling out his handy recorder.

'Oh no!' The present Doctor chuckled in his mind, remembering what kind of personality his wacky second self had had before he'd been erased from the memory of time. The recorder was definitely something that he couldn't imagine that he'd carry around with him today. Instead he carried bananas and a yoyo. Much more sensible.

The scene played out just as he remembered, from when he accidentally stumbled across himself for the first time. (What a shock that was! What else could he do but annoy his previous self?) The nut-job mop-top started playing a recorder in the middle of a formally quiet and peaceful London café. The first Doctor watched in amazement and confusion at what was happening, surprisingly not reprimanding the seemingly younger man, while the second seemed to enjoy the sense of randomness that he was imparting on his former self.

The door dinged.

Almost like a fan watching his favorite crossover program, the present Doctor struggled not to cheer as his third self marched through the door, opera cape and all. He strode in and paused for a second before covering his ears in mock pain. He glared at the source of the noise before walking up and snatching the tiny instrument away from the other man.


The new white-haired man gave him a stern look. "Now listen to me." He started before pausing to think of what he could say next. "Time and place." He finished simply. The second Doctor just raised his eyebrows before abruptly turning and walking towards a bar-looking area near the front of café and sitting on one of the tall stools.

The cape-clad Doctor turned to the first Doctor and nodded, obviously out of respect. He turned away from the other Time Lord and walked over to the counter. "Do you have carrot juice?"

Counter-man was starting to look a bit annoyed. "No." He ground out.

The Third Doctor nodded, taking this in gravely. "I'll just have water then."

Counter-man gave the Doctor his glass of water, and he walked over to the bar area where the second Doctor was, sitting fairly far away from him. He wasn't suffering from any recent trauma, the Doctor knew, remembering the reason that he had shown up—simply because that he remembered that he had.

Starring at this younger version himself, the Doctor almost didn't notice when the door dinged for the fourth time.

Gracefully bounding through the door came one of the most brilliant versions of himself that he could ever imagine. Bushy haired, sharp-nosed, scarf-clad and with eyes of fire came the fourth Doctor. Almost immediately, the present Doctor could sense his own previous energy, almost boundless and full of a sense of… everything. Adventure, emotion, mystery, intelligence… This was truly the Time Lord Victorious for his time.

'This brings me back.' The present Doctor remembered. This was the longest lasting regeneration that he'd ever had, beating even his first self. This was the version of himself that managed to destroy worlds, create worlds, erase time, discover previously unseen life forms and save the universe multiple times, all while wearing that crazy twenty-four foot long scarf.

And it was brilliant.

The scarf-clad Doctor confidently strode towards counter-man, leaning over the actual counter until he was right in the employee's face, counter-man bristling. Not one to notice or care, the generally annoying Doctor simply smiled his big-toothed smile before asking, in all seriousness. "Do you have any jelly babies?"

Counter-man was obviously not having a good day. "No." He forced out, nearly annoyed beyond return. "This is a café!" He almost yelled the last part.

The fourth Doctor blinked, "Oh." He stated simply, as if he hadn't considered that, even though the present Doctor knew that he did. By then, this ritual of the café was a tradition. "You sure?"


Raising his hands in mock defense, the Time Lord, asked for a scone and some tea. Taking it, he mumbled something about being "completely unoriginal", causing the eleventh Doctor to choke on his own tea with barely concealed laughter. After all-even his present self had ordered it.

Not noticing his future self choking in the background, the fourth Doctor wandered over to where the third Doctor was sitting. He leaned over the white-haired man's shoulder before shouting, "Reverse the polarity of the neutron flow!" into his ear.

The 'younger' man jumped, quickly turning around to stare with an infinite sense of confusion at his soon-to-be self. "What?"

The well-known Cheshire Cat grin was back. "I was just saying that you look like you were in need of an assistant." With that he turned from the extremely confused third Doctor to walk to a table near the back, but still a bit aways from where the current Doctor was sitting.

As if on cue (which it was) the door dinged for the fifth time.

The blonde haired man wearing a cricket uniform with a cream-colored coat (plus celery!) walked slowly into the small café. He closed the door and took everything in around him somberly. Slowly, as if carefully forcing himself to do the deed that must be done, he walked through the room, carefully avoiding any of his previous selves as if they were made of molten metal.

Spotting this, the current Doctor's heart went out to him. Tegan had just left. Out of all the things, all the people he traveled with, save for the death of Adric, Tegan's departure had been the most scarring goodbyes of his life. Her shouting at him about the death and destruction he caused… this emotional regeneration had a hard time taking it in.

Still, the fifth Doctor plowed on, making it to the counter to order a biscuit. He took it and thanked counter-man sincerely before heading to the back of the café, he put himself down at a table for two, staring at the second, empty, chair before sighing and putting his head down on the table.

From the table where the present Doctor was sitting, he could see the fourth Doctor stir. 'I had just left Sarah Jane.' He remembered, watching the scarved man looking at the fifth Doctor with a look of pity, evidently sensing the other man's look of pain. A thought popped into his mind and he rolled it a around in his head before standing and moving over to where the other Doctor was sitting.

"May I join you?" The question came with a trade mark smile that went unnoticed by the other man who just nodded into the table. Frowning a bit at this, the fourth Doctor simply sat at the table, glancing at the obviously distressed other man. "Bad day?"

"You could say that." Replied the blonde Doctor, finally looking up from the table at his former self. "Just got reminded of what kind of a monster I am."

The other man's eyebrows rose dramatically at this. 'You don't seem exactly like the monster type." He said and grinned. "And I know monsters."

"You'll probably find out about this one then." The words hit the current Doctor. This was definitely not a new concept. 'I've been named the Destroyer of Worlds, the Oncoming Storm… I am the Valeyard. The Pandorica, the cage for the most dangerous thing in the universe, was made for me…' He knew that the sense of his possible evil had started with the version of himself that he was staring at now. 'This is never going to get better.'

"It'll get better. It always does." The fourth Doctor attempted to assure the older Doctor, both of them not paying attention as the bell rang.

"Yeah… It's just going to get better for you." Came the fifth Doctor's response, letting the last word drag on as he watched a man in multi-colored attire walk past while giving him the 'follow me' sign. Immediately, almost jumping over the chair, the younger looking Doctor rushed after the man, leaving the bushy haired Doctor behind, shrugging and drinking his tea.

"Do I know you?" Asked the fifth Doctor when he finally caught up with his next self.

The sixth Doctor grandly turned around. 'What an ego-maniac I was.' Thought the current Doctor, watching the scene play out. 'This is going to be interesting.'

"No." Said the sixth Doctor, smiling smugly. "But I would just like to point out that I'm better than you."

"At what?"


The fifth Doctor blinked. This was just too much. "Okay…" He said, just wanting the strange man to leave him alone.

The multi-colored coated Doctor nodded. "Just wanted you to know that." He said and the present Doctor was suddenly reminded of why this version of him had come. He just wanted to mess with his previous self's head. He rolled his eyes. Clearly done with his statement of grand superiority, the sixth Doctor made his way towards the door, leaving the fifth Doctor puzzled while some of the younger regenerations stared at him curiously.

At the door though, came another ringing. An older, shorter man with a question-marked pullover, a panama hat and carrying a question-mark umbrella walked with ease into the store. He turned to face the café, almost jumping when he met nose-to-nose with his previous regeneration, the sixth Doctor's expression reading as 'get out of my face', though not completely unkind, just smug.

The seventh Doctor seemed to be weighing up the other Doctor in front of him. "You think you're the best person in this room don't you?" He asked. The sixth Doctor tilted his head at that before sliding behind the future Doctor and walking out of the café.

Watching him go, the seventh Doctor almost got hit by the door when it rang for the eighth time. Coming into the café was a younger man with longer, curlier hair, his Victorian style clothing making him stand out. He quickly stopped the door from hitting his last self before asking, "Excuse me?" In a polite voice. The other Doctor seemed to slip out of his funk and moved out of the way to let the newcomer in.

"Thank you." Said the eighth Doctor, nodding to his former self. He made to walk to the back but stopped suddenly, a smile appearing on his face. "You look like a professor that I used to know."

"You're very kind." Said the shorter man. "But I'm not a professor."

Contemplating that, the eighth Doctor smirked. "But you could be. One day."

"Yes. Maybe one day."

Patting his former incarnation's shoulder, the curly-haired Time Lord made his way towards the back of the café, eventually sitting across the aisle from where the fourth and fifth Doctors were sitting in silence. He looked at them for a moment before leaning back in his chair, enjoying the view of his past lives.

And then the bell rang again.

The eleventh Doctor felt him before he saw him. A mass of anger, hurt and drowning depression hit him like a whirlwind. 'Here comes the ultimate Oncoming Storm.' Thought the Doctor, watching in pure amazement as the latest man walked in. He was dressed in the most casual attire in the entire restaurant, wearing a leather jacket, and a v-neck jumper, among his other normal-looking clothes. His blue eyes seemed to pierce the air before him as he almost stormed into the café.

He walked down to the back of the restaurant, in turn staring at each version of himself with envy and sorrow. 'They haven't experienced the tortures that I have… at least, not yet.' The current Doctor knew what it was his past self was thinking. The ninth Doctor actually ended up sitting just in front of him, in the booth in front of his. The Time Lord watched as his most troubled self just stared at the eighth Doctor, obviously weighing options in his mind. Whether to warn him, whether to just talk, whether to just ignore him, or stare…

He chose the last option.

That didn't stop the Doctor from the other table to notice the staring. He stared back for a full three minutes before the ninth Doctor decided that the view from outside the window was more interesting.

'I was so broken then.' Mused the eleventh Doctor. 'Became almost truly alone. Finally free from a race that never understood me and now all I want is for them to be back, torturing me with their taunting and nagging. Anything, as long as it meant that they were alive.' The ninth Doctor continued to stare out the window.

The door rang again as another man entered the café. Paying no heed to this, the present Doctor continued to stare at his formerly tortured self, feeling all the sorrow in the world for him.

"You have survivor's guilt."

Just like the first time, the eleventh Doctor was surprised when the words came out of nowhere. He immediately moved his gaze to the man that had just walked in the door. Long brown jacket, brown suit, red Chucks and unruly hair… the regeneration that did not want to leave. Like his fourth self, he marveled at this version. This was the failed Time Lord Victorious, the first mad man with a box, and the true lonely god that had lost so many people that had so many others abandon him. So many. So much more than any other incarnation.

And to top it off, he had survivor's guilt too.

The ninth Doctor glanced, shocked at what he knew to be his next self. The thing was, the eleventh Doctor knew, that in the café, he never really figured out who the next version of himself was because he never bothered to think about it. In his ninth regeneration, he remembered, that was the only time he really knew-knew for a fact that the man talking to him was his future. And that was a comfort.

Not bothering to sit down, the tenth Doctor sighed before continuing with what he knew had to be said. "You have so much to live for." He continued, voice full of emotion. 'I had just lost Rose.' The present Doctor realized with a shock. 'And then Donna wouldn't stay…' How had he gained the composure to come here and do this? "So much. But, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It can and will get difficult. But it's so worth it." The unruly-haired Time Lord smiled, watching as his other self nodded, the tiniest smile visible. The tenth Doctor seemed to almost leave before he stopped and turned back to the leather-clad man. "Just remember – pick a flower."

The ninth Doctor's eyes went wide. Information like that only came from future selves if they were life or death important.

Which it was.

"Can I sit here?" The familiar voice asked the present Doctor. He looked up at his previous self. 'My turn.' He thought.

"Yeah, it is getting kind of crowded here, isn't it?" He said, trying to sound normal. His other self nodded before sliding down into the seat across from him.

"So…" Started the Doctor, feeling the situation getting awkward. An idea hit. He leaned forward, whispering to the other Doctor as if it was a secret. "Do you like bananas?"

His previous self immediately grinned, automatically pointing out that, "Bananas are good!"

Smiling back, the Doctor pulled a banana out of his pocket and slid it across the table to the tenth Doctor. His previous form took the fruit, studying it. "I once had a friend," He said sadly. "She used to think I was mad, but I carried a banana everywhere I went."

Nodding, the present Doctor asked kindly. "What happened to her?"

The other man sighed softly. "She…left."

"I'm sure you'll see her again."

The pin-striped Doctor shook his head. "It's impossible."

Smiling widely, the eleventh Doctor leaned over the table again and said, with all seriousness in the world. "Nothing is impossible." His grin got even wider as he asked, a pure ray of awesome joyful emotion creeping into his words. "For instance, did you know it could rain on the moon?" His previous self seemed to get brighter at that, leaning back before starting to laugh. A few moments later, the current Doctor realized he was laughing too.

Until he spotted someone that wasn't supposed to be there.

He kept face, smiling. "Sorry." He told the tenth Doctor. "But I just found my party."

The other Doctor nodded, looking much better for the meeting. The eleventh Doctor stood up from the table, gazing at the person across the café, before turning back to the other man. "Life is precious. Some things are lost… and found for a reason." He said. "Go and find a friend. Oh," He added, moving closer, his hands moving as he spoke, pointing at the other Doctor with each word. "Remember this. Bowties are cool." He gave the tenth Doctor one final smirk before leaving, sensing the tenth Doctor's warm smile.

'Now,' He thought. 'How could I have ever missed this person?' It was like Where's Waldo, except he hadn't known he'd been playing. The face had stood out shockingly all of a sudden and he couldn't resist.

He walked over to the impossible face in the café. The man wasn't even paying attention to him. That made sense, the man didn't know this face yet in the Doctor's or the man's present.

"You can't talk to him. He doesn't even know who you are yet." Said the Doctor.

"I can dream." Jack replied, not looking at this new face, but staring forlornly at the Doctor who abandoned him. "I saw him walking in. I could already tell that it was just after… you know."

The Time Lord nodded knowingly. "Yeah."

Jack turned to finally take a look at this new Doctor, studying him. The Doctor allowed it, watching him and knowing that this was a hard time in Jack's life. The waiting years after his vortex manipulator was fried. Waiting over two hundred years for anybody had to be a bother.

"How many…" Jack struggled for the right word. "Yous, has it been since big ears over there?"

"Two." Replied the Doctor. "But you'll meet me again before this me so when that happens, best not to talk about this little conversation."

"Nice bowtie."

"As I was just telling him," The Doctor pointed to the brown-suited Doctor at the booth. "Bowties are cool."

Jack clicked his teeth together before asking. "Is he you?"

"Yup. The one just before me. And helpful hint," He said, figuring this wouldn't harm anyone. "That's the me you're going to want to look for when you get to the twenty-first century."

"I'll keep that in mind." Jack mumbled almost sarcastically. He looked around the small restaurant. "Are all these people you?"

The Doctor pondered the question. "I only know the ones that I've been already, but I can point out them to you."

"Could you?" Jack asked seriously, and the Doctor could tell that he was genuinely interested, wanting to know a bit more about the man who stole him away in a blue box to immortality.

"Fine." He pointed to the first old man. "That's the first me." He put his finger down, not wanting to leave too much of an imprint in one of his other memories. "Rather like a strict uncle, I'm afraid. But," He always thought this was interesting. "The only me to die from natural causes."

Jack's eyes went wider. "Natural causes?"

"Old age." And so this went on for a while, the Doctor pointing out each and every one of his regenerations, telling Jack how each lived and died. Recalling his second self's purposeful bumbling behavior to his eventual removal from the memory of history. Reminiscing on his third self's ownership of an actual vehicle, Bessy, to his first death by radiation poisoning. Telling the tale of how his fourth self was generally a loopy bohemian and obsessed with jelly babies until he fell from the telescope. Smiling at the memory of his fifth's self aversion to violence, to the point of flipping coins to make decisions, before he fell to radiation poisoning for the second time. Laughing at his sixth self, who loved to start arguments, until the Rani attacked his TARDIS. Regaling on the fact that his seventh self was normally called 'professor' by his traveling companion before his other companion tried to fix his non-existent fibrillation. Remembering the confusion his eighth self faced, total amnesia, before saving the world, and then his death during the time war (he didn't go into specifics and Jack didn't push). Grinning at his ninth's self move from drowning in depression to a state of acceptance before taking in the vortex to save Rose.

He paused before telling Jack of his last self. "You never mention this to him when you see him, got it?" Said the Doctor before Jack nodded. "Right, that's good. It makes sense actually because…" Because Jack had looked like he knew what was going on when he had shown up to say goodbye. "Oh, you'll find out."

"So, what's he like?"

It was hard to start. "Brilliant." Said the Doctor, echoing his former self. "He's brilliant. He is… fantastic." Jack grinned at the word choice. "Besides my ninth self, he's probably had the worst luck. He's had to deal with the most disappointments, losses and abandonments than in any other regeneration I've ever had. In one case, he literally had all but one person leave and that one person had to go. So he spent his final years alone. And you know what?" He laughed humorlessly at the irony. "He didn't want to go."

"What happened?"

"Third death by radiation poisoning." He said, voice nearly toneless at the recent memory. "Just after he-I escaped death… sacrificed myself for somebody else."

"Was that person worth it?" Asked Jack.

The response from the Doctor was not one that he expected. He grinned broadly, "Totally worth it." He suddenly turned serious again. "Now don't go trying to prevent any of what I told you from happening."

"No, I don't think I want to." Jack said, looking at the Time Lord respectfully before smirking slyly. "Sounds like fun."

"Wow." The Doctor responded sarcastically. He stood up and lightly clapped his hands, rubbing them together. "Well, I'm off." He said. "Oh and one more hint." This renewed Jack's attention. "You're going to need a hand." He turned around and walked away a few steps, Jack turning to look at the fourth Doctor, before he whipped around again. "Jack."

Jack immediately turned back to him. "Yes?"

The Doctor grinned. "Geronimo." With that he walked away from the ex-time agent. He headed towards the exit, figuring that his time here was up. He walked past all his lives, enjoying the knowledge that their future was a complete one.

He was about to reach the door when it flew open, just like it had when the seventh Doctor showed up, only this time, he was hit. He fell to the floor, clutching his nose, while the dark-ginger-haired man scrambled to pick him up.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Said the man, and the eleventh Doctor noticed a familiar looking question mark logo on his collar. 'What?'

The man helped the Doctor up and awkwardly brushed him off. "Such a klutz." The unknown man commented on himself. "But I suppose it's alright. Every man needs a label to call his own."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, listening to the stranger babble.

"Just found this one out. Every man needs a song. Do you know what that means?" The ginger asked, looking at the Doctor as if his next few words could be the question that matched the answer of forty-two.

"No," Said the Time Lord slowly. "I can't say that I do."

The man looked disappointed for a moment before clapping him on the back as he pushed the Doctor towards the door. "Best be on your way then." He said. "'Geronimo' and all that."

The eleventh Doctor's eyes widened. He turned back to where the man was only to find that the stranger had already moved further into the café. He shrugged. 'Probably nothing.' He thought, finally turning towards the door and leaving the Tupper Lane Café for the eleventh time.

A few minutes later, he found himself in the TARDIS with his newlywed companions. As he started the ship up towards the next eventual destination, Amy asked. "So, what was that all about then?"

The Doctor smiled. "Oh, just something to keep me going."


A/N: This popped into my head one day and I couldn't help myself. Took over fifteen hours to write and research. You can tell that I love certain Doctors. Most obviously four, five, ten and (obviously) eleven. But all the others (except six…) I also love for various reasons. For instance, nine is my intro Doctor. Six is my least favorite but, he's not bad. I really wanted to put Jack in there, so I did. I think he managed to fit in. Though… I don't know how he got in there without at least ten noticing him…. … heh… (cough) Don't pay attention to that plotline hole. Any ways, you can see why I said spoilers for everything. Hope you caught the Hitchhiker's Guide shout-out. Oh and "dark-ginger-haired" is dark red. Yeah… Anywho hope you enjoyed this. Please review but no flames please.