To The Moon and Back [A Doctor Who fanfiction]

The Morning Before

I woke up to the sound of the TARDIS's engines whirring around me. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and yawning, looking around to see myself in the guest bedroom, the Doctor asleep in a chair across from the bed.

"Doctor," I whispered. He didn't stir. "Doctor," I said, a little louder. He snored slightly. I got up out of bed, shivering and pulling the quilt off the bed and wrapping myself in it. I walked over to the Doctor and whispered closer to him, "Doctor, wake up."

His eyes suddenly flew open, his mouth flying open. "Kidneys!" He shouted. I laughed. "What was that?" I asked. He stretched his arms above his head, groaning slightly. "Nothing, just a weird dream." He said, standing up. He rubbed his arms with his hands. I offered him a spot under the blanket and we shuffled out of the bedroom wrapped up in the quilt.

"How did I get into the TARDIS?" I asked as we shuffled into the kitchen. "You fell asleep when we were stargazing last night. I carried you to bed, but the TARDIS's air conditioning was still off from reacting to the heat of the Zygon planet, so you kept shivering. I put a few more blankets over you but I stayed to make sure you would be okay." "Thank you for keeping me warm." I said, smiling and snuggling closer to him under the quilt. He smiled back at me.

I sat down at the table in the kitchen while he walked over to the fridge, opening it and looking inside. "What do you want to eat?" He asked me. I shivered again. "Something warm." He closed the fridge and opened the cupboard above the stove, rustling through it. "How does hot chocolate and a croissant with jam sound?" He asked, his head still buried in the cupboard. "That sounds delicious." I replied.

He pulled mix for hot chocolate out of the cupboard, and in a few minutes we were sipping hot chocolate and eating breakfast across from each other.

"So why did you take me to the wax museum." I asked, taking a sip of my hot chocolate. "I had originally thought it would be a nice place to hang out and chat. I knew you had a few unanswered questions you wanted to ask me. But you can see that the trip didn't exactly go as planned." I nodded and took another sip, warming my hands on the mug. "So can I ask my questions now?" "Sure, fire away." He said, sitting back in his chair and looking at me expectantly.

"Okay, question one: Why does the TARDIS look like an old police box?" I asked. "Oh, that one's easy. I took her back into early twentieth century Britain and the chameleon circuit jammed, getting it stuck like this."

"Okay, question two: we've been to France and an alien planet, so how is everyone speaking English?" He shrugged. "Oh, that's the TARDIS. She gets into your head and translates everything for you. Also, to them is seems like you're speaking their language."

"Question three: what exactly are the Timelords?" He thought for a moment before answering, "Timelords are the native species of Gallifrey, a planet in the constellation of Kasterborous. We evolved a second heart from traveling in the time vortex so much, and we can regenerate if we are fatally injured, meaning we could live for hundreds of thousands of years."

He paused for a moment. "I'm the last of the Timelords." "What? How?" He told me all about the Time War against the Daleks, and how he had to go to extreme measures to end it. I let that all sink in for a couple minutes before asking my final question.

"Doctor, I have one more question, and I need you to answer it honestly." I said solemnly. He nodded. "Doctor, how old are you?" He laughed, a smile appearing on his face. "I don't know." He responded, still laughing. "You don't know? How do you not know?" I asked, joining in on the ridiculous laughter. "I lost count in the twelve hundreds." He said, tears of laughter running down his face. "The twelve hundreds?" I said, doubling over. "You're so old." "I know," He said, still laughing. "I should be in a nursing home."

We had to take a couple minutes to calm down. "We are horrible." I said, wiping the tears from my eyes and shaking my head. "We are." He agreed, running his hands down his face.

"So," He said, hopping up, collecting our dishes and placing them in the sink. "Where do you want to go today?" He asked me, pulling me up from my chair. I blushed sheepishly, debating about whether or not I should tell him. "What is it? You can tell me." He said, as if reading my mind.

"I want to go to," I paused for a second. "The moon." "The moon?" He asked, chuckling. "I know, it's kind of cliché and boring," I said, looking down. "The moon," He said again, swooping me up in arms still bundled up in the quilt, spinning around, making me laugh.

"The moon is anything but boring." He said, putting me back down. "Really?" I asked. "Yes, the moon is huge!" He said, stretching his arms out really wide, causing him to lose his balance and stumble a bit, making me laugh again. "There are small craters and big craters and space stations to explore, just avoid the water, and all sorts of fun things to do." He picked me up and held me in the air. "Mirabelle, the moon is anything but boring."