Fixer Upper

The Moon

The Mechanic couldn't understand why the Doctor and Clara were arguing. The Disruptive Influence had apparently taken the Doctor seriously.

They couldn't understand why anyone would do that. He was an old, senile alien. Almost two thousand years old, and pretty anti-social too.

They watch as as the little girl runs back into the console room, and realized one of the things the Doctor must have been upset about, was vomit.

"I got stuff to clean up with." She holds up paper towels.

"What?"

Courtney smiles, "And I got these from the chemist."

"Vortex manipulators?" He gestured to the magnetic bracelets on her wrists.

"Travel sickness." The Mechanic didn't understand how the bracelets would help her with an illness.

"Good. Because I don't like people being sick in my Tardis. No being sick. And no hanky-panky."

"Doctor!" Clara blushed.

"Sorry, that's the rules."

Clara shook her head and got down to Courtney's level, "Look, Courtney, you're not going to be needing those because you're not going to be doing any travelling." She turned to the doctor and lowered her voice, "Doctor, will you just, just tell her?"

"Tell her what?"

Clara clenched her jaw, "Tell her that she's special."

"I don't recall him saying she wasn't." The Mechanic spoke up.

But the other two adults ignored her, "Have you gone bananas?"

"Do you really think I'm not special? You can't just take me away like that. It's like you kicked a big hole in in the side of my life. You really think it? I'm nothing? I'm not special?"

"How'd you like to be the first woman on the moon? Is that special enough for you?"

"Yeah, all right."

"Okay. Now we can do something interesting." He sets the Tardis flying, after the Mechanic adjusted a few things.

"Doctor!" Clara protested.

***

The three step out of the Tardis in full spacesuits into a storage area filled with cylindrical objects, some in racks. Some have a US flag on them, some have Cyrillic writing.

The Mechanic didn't bother putting on a suit, they only adjusted their oxygen settings.

"This isn't the moon. Where are we?"

"On a recycled space shuttle. 2049, judging by that prototype version of the Bennett oscillator." The Mechanic nodded, "you can take your helmets off."

Once they did so, the mechanic leaned over to the Doctor, "Where's the gravity coming from?"

"What are they?" Clara gestured to the racks.

"About a hundred nuclear bombs." An alarm sounds. The Doctor looks out through the airlock window, "We're on our way to the moon. Check that. We're about to crash into it! Hold on! Hold on!"

They grab hold of cargo nets, "Why didn't you just tell her you didn't mean it?" Clara whines as they tilted sideways.

The space shuttle belly-flops onto the moon's surface and skids to a halt. The three person shuttle crew enter, lead by a woman, "Who the hell do you think you are?"

The Doctor ignored her, "Why have you got all these nuclear bombs?"

"I'm not going to give you another chance." The Mechanic's scan recognized her as Lundvik, the leader of a space mission, one that could've gone horribly.