The Time of Change

The Time-Stopping Trio

"Okay," says the Tenth Doctor when the women's voices fade out. "You used to be me. You've done all this before. What happens next?"

The Eleventh looks at his feet. "I don't remember," he admits.

"How can you forget this?" the Tenth demands incredulously, gesturing between him and the other.

"Hey, hang on!" says the Eleventh. "It's not my fault. You're obviously not paying enough attention. Reverse the polarity!" he adds in response to his counterpart's question about the vortex. Synchronously they pull out their sonic screwdrivers, and electronic whirring fills the quiet air of the forest. The fissure remains, neither changing in size nor color.

"It's not working." The Eleventh Doctor looks troubled.

"We're both reversing the polarity."

"Yes, I know that."

"There's two of us. I'm reversing it; you're reversing it back again. We're confusing the polarity!"

Suddenly and completely unexpectedly, a third man drops from the vortex and lands flat on his feet with a disheveled, "Oof!" This one is considerably older than the other two. Though his arrival was steadier than the Eleventh Doctor's, the man repositions himself after, revealing the definite stoop to his back. His hair is gray, and his face wrinkled, but it is a face that both Doctors recognize at once.

Though he is extraordinarily far from her, the Eleventh Doctor imagines he can hear his wife's voice giving the newcomer a name: Warrior.

"Anyone lose a fez?" the elderly man asks good-naturedly. He holds the hat in his gnarled hands.

"You," breathes the Tenth Doctor. "How can you be here? More to the point, why are you here?"

The man takes a small step toward them with a friendly smile on his face. "Good afternoon," he greets them. "I am looking for the Doctor."

The Tenth's face crumples while his future self's seems to inflate. "Well," says the Tenth, "you've certainly come to the right place."

"Good! Right, well... who are you boys?" the Warrior asks. "Oh, of course. Are you his companions?"

The Eleventh's eyes grow wide. "His companions?" he repeats, offended.

The Warrior waves his hand dismissively. "They get younger all the time. Well, if you could point me in the general direction of the Doctor...?"

Eleventh after the Tenth, the two Doctors hold up their sonic screwdrivers for him to see. They let them whir in perfect harmony.

The Warrior's stoic expression gives way to shock. "Really?"

"Yeah," says the Eleventh. "Really," the Tenth quips.

"You're me? Both of you?"

"Yep," says the Tenth.

"Even that one?" the Warrior inquires, nodding toward the Eleventh, who looks deeply affronted. "Yes!" he replies loudly.

Another question from the old man: "You're my future selves?"

"Yes!" the other two say together.

"Am I having a midlife crisis?" asks the Warrior. He notices the others have their devices aimed distrustfully at him, and he adds, "Why are you pointing your screwdrivers like that? They're scientific instruments, not water pistols! Look like you've seen a ghost."

The Doctors exchange a look as they stow their sonics away. "Still," says the Tenth, referring to the Warrior's clothing, "I'm loving the posh gravelly thing. It's very convincing."

"Brave words, Dick van Dyke," chuckles the Eleventh.

The Tenth glares at him as a group of spear-armed soldiers run up to them, led by a nobleman on horseback. "Encircle them!" he shouts at his troops. They scramble to follow his orders, all their weapons trained on the three men in the midst of their ring. "Which of you is the Doctor?" demands the man on the horse. The Warrior, Tenth and Eleventh all glance at each other sideways. "The Queen of England is bewitched. I would have the Doctor's head."

"Well," the Warrior cracks, "this has all the makings of your lucky day."