Author's note: The characters in this story belong to Douglas Adams and Doctor who, respectively. I hope this isn't out of character. As you could probably tell, it is set before the "End of Time." Enjoy this wonderfully written story and please leave constructive criticism. Thank you.
The day had been a good day for the Doctor. No one had died, and a planet was saved from the Red Carnivorous Maw.
It was a good day.
Besides the gnawing loneliness that crept up on him day after day, and the sense that he shouldn't be putting off the meeting with Ood Sigma, and the feeling that he was going to die and all the issues that came from that.
The Tenth Doctor stood on a wide open plain, gazing at the stars, and at the dim lights of the city that was miles away. He needed to spend more time looking at the stars, he had decided. Old age must be making him go sentimental in his declining years.
As he stood there, beneath the stars, with only him and his depressing thoughts, he contemplated how long he had lived. He had been alive ... well, he wasn't sure how long it had actually been. He had stopped counting a while ago. Was it when he was a thousand? Twelve thousand? He knew it had been a long while since he stopped counting. A good long while. He only said he was around nine hundred to make himself feel better. Now the weight of his years was pressing down on him, and he was feeling guilt about everything he had done wrong, all the people he never saved. Part of him, a small part, said he couldn't save everyone. For some reason he never listened to that part, instead choosing to think about Adric, Katarina, and all the more recent friends who had died.
And this entire train of thought was depressing.
(As an interesting side note, at that moment, a mattress had flolloped in a glade. And Marvin the maniacally depressed was even more depressed.)
As he stood there, beneath the stars, with only him and his ancient depressing train of thought, the Doctor became aware of eerie lights. The lights of a spaceship, long, silver, and elegant. It landed in front of him. The ramp of the ship had extended. And a very alien person came down it.
It looked at him solemnly and said in a clear voice," You are a manipulative psychopath."
The Doctor blinked and his face made the vague effort to say what.
What he said was "Who?"
"And," said the alien, "a liar and thief." With that the alien turned and went back up the ramp, into its ship, and flew off.
And the Doctor was left standing there, mouth open and wondering what just happened.
The incident did not help his self-esteem.
Wowbagger stretched out, and decided to sleep. After all, he earned it. It had taken him at least five centuries to get to the letter "D."
He deserved a rest. The computer plotted its course, planning who Wowbagger was to insult next.
Currently, the sounds of a thousand people saying "whop" filled the area around the Universe's longest floating party. And the robots of Krikket stole "The Most Gratuitous Use of the Word 'Belgium' in a Serious Screenplay" award.
Author's note: I hope you liked it! Please comment.