Eloise didn’t feel very well. Her hoedown had taken a downturn, but fast. Her vague idea (it could hardly have been called a ‘plan’) of invading the High Council’s meeting and giving out out party hats had not worked out as she had hoped, though she thought the second Doctor’s attempt to get the guards dancing with his recorder was a brilliant attempt.
“Hey,” she said, hopefully, “isn’t it fun to float in a void like this? How many times in your life do you get a chance to really float?”
This was met, universally, with groans.
She sighed, and made her way to where the eighth Doctor and Compassion were discussing the situation in whispers. “Excuse me…” she ventured.
The Doctor gave her a dark look. He did not appear to appreciate her attempts to talk to Compassion alone. “What?” he asked, shortly. Everyone’s patience was wearing thin.
“How did Gallifrijan know that Compassion is time-sensitive?”
“For that matter,” the Doctor asked, “how did you?”
“Actually, it was my own TARDIS who recognized her, and she let me know, somehow…” Eloise grew wistful. She wanted to be back there, big time. She’d never even got a taste of that ice cream cake… “But Gallifrijan doesn’t have a TARDIS – if he’s really from here, from current Gallifrey, he wouldn’t even know what one is. And anyway, Eris’s works were so, erm, ‘universal’, how could he pinpoint the origin? For all he knew, it could have been a random time storm. I don’t think he’s who he pretends to be. D’you notice how he said he would report to Rassilon ‘momentarily’? If he was really working with Rassilon, wouldn’t he have reported immediately?”
The sixth Doctor, who had floated over during this spiel, gave her an assessing look. “You may be on to something,” he said. A thought seemed to strike him. “I thought his voice sounded oddly familiar… I had the feeling I’d regenerated prematurely – left business unfinished, here, if you know what I mean. I just hope we can trust my later self to stay focussed and finish the job…”
But Eloise wasn’t paying attention. She was hungry, and her mind turned of its own accord to the massive spread laid out by Iron Chef Catering.
Then she remembered: Mappy the mouse had stayed behind, enjoying the cheese plates, when the others went out into the Citadel… If he could get in touch with the seventh Doctor, maybe they could work together…
“Compassion?” said the eighth Doctor.
“Yes, Doctor?”
“You’re absolutely sure you can’t override Eris’ sealing of your doors?”
“She’s a Goddess. I’m a TARDIS. In other words… no.”
“Wait, wait, wait… Take my hand.”
“What?”
“Take my hand. Now! We’re about to–”
The Time Scoop disgorged our heroes onto the ground.
Eloise groaned. “Oof. Where are we…?”
“Oh no…” all seven Doctors present said.
Eloise began to get a very bad feeling. When all of the Doctors said that, it usually meant…
She looked up.
And gasped.
Meanwhile, back on Gallifrey…
To be more precise, back in the Pro-Fun TARDIS…
Mappy the mouse burped. Mmm. Iron Chef Catering did incredible things with cheese.
He looked around.
There was no-one else there.
That was odd. Where’d they all gone?
He decided to take a look outside. Maybe they were having a barbecue (cheeseburgers… mmm).
He opened the door of the Pro-Fun TARDIS…
And walked straight into someone’s shoe.