It's Called What?

"For someone who can travel all of bloody time and space, you'd think you'd have a better telly than that," Donna commented as the Doctor guided her into a room.

He turned the small television on. "Hey, this is high tech..."

"For what? The early eighties?"

He didn't reply to it. It seemed she wanted to get on his nerves. "So what's this show called?"

"I forget, it's some sci-fi show. Doctor What, Doctor Who, Doctor When or something."

"It's called what?" No. It couldn't have been. Probably Doctor What...

"I told you, Spaceman, I don't know! My friend just told me to watch it. She things I'll fall in love with the lead actor," she fell down on the black sofa.

He joined her. "Let's see."

The sound came on before the picture appeared. Maybe she's right about its age... He thought.

"I just want a mate."

... Wait, is that me? "Spaceman, why're you on the-"

"You just want to mate?"

He looked at the ginger that was on the screen and then to Donna, whose jaw was dropped. "Forget about me; why're you on there?"

"Well, you're not mating with me, sunshine!"

A new thought came to his mind. "How do the writers know what really happened?"

"Screw that, who's playing us?" She stole a remote from his hands and pressed a button to bring information about the show up. "You're played by some Scottish pretty boy... And I'm... Catherine Tate? What?"

The Doctor wasn't paying attention to her ranting. He was focusing on what was going in the show. "What... What's it called?"

"Doctor Who. I think it's been on since the sixties-"



"Have a few hundred pounds?"

"... Why?"

"Because we're going to watch the whole thing from the start."

Four weeks later-

"... Wow," was all the Doctor could say. They had just finished the latest episode, "Planet of the Ood". Everything on the show was exactly the same as it happened to them.

"You have one hell of a life."

"I know... But still... How did the BBC find out about this?"

Meanwhile at Torchwood...

"So you sold the Doctor's life story to the BBC... To see who would play you?" Ianto followed Jack through a hallway.

"Yeah. They didn't do too bad of a job."

"But how did you find everything out?"

"Well, the TARDIS and I... Let's just say we made a deal."

"Spaceman, they've probably heard of it..." Donna tried to convince him as they walked out of the TARDIS.

But that wasn't going to stop him. He was going to find out more about that show if it was the end of him. She rolled her eyes and reluctantly followed him.

"Excuse me," he stopped a random girl, who appeared to be in her late teens. "What day is it today?"

She turned around. "It's November twenty-third, the bank holiday, you know."

He tilted his head to the side. "No, I don't."

"Where've you been, Mars?"

Donna giggled and muttered, "Basically."

"Oh. Well, it's Who Day."

He raised his eyebrows. "Who... Day?"

"Yeah, after Doctor Who. It's the two hundred-sixtieth anniversary of the series premier."

He and Donna exchanged looks.

"And still, it's too early to make jokes about Donna Noble losing her memory."

Donna tilted her head down. "Sorry?"

The Doctor didn't know what was going on, but he knew one thing: she was going to kill him if that girl went on. He pushed the ginger around. "Alright, Donna... Back to the TARDIS... Allons-y..."

"Wait!" The girl called from behind them. "You're... Oh my God, you're David Tennant!"

Both of their eyes widened. "Spaceman...?"

"Donna... Prepare for my worst enemies to come: fangirls. When I say run, ru-"

"Screw that, let's get the bloody hell out of here!"