The Doctor clenched his hands. The pasta-maker\u2019s bowl simply fell apart and showered to the floor in a rain of clouded plastic fragments.<\/p>\n
Tegan groaned softly and turned away.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow we\u2019ll have to have the TARDIS extrude another one,\u201d the Doctor said, resigned, \u201cand you know how she can be about such things.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cErratic,\u201d Tegan muttered.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wouldn\u2019t talk if I were you,\u201d said the Doctor. Then he caught himself, and looked abashed. \u201cSorry,\u201d he said. \u201cLook, it was a mistake. You won\u2019t make it again. \u2014Will you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d Tegan said, trying to sound sulky, but failing. It was hard to be angry with the Doctor when he was in a conciliatory mood.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s all right, then,\u201d he said, and looked around him cheerfully again. \u201cBut we\u2019re still out of pasta.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s no odds,\u201d Tegan said, \u201cwe\u2019re out of sauce too. Nyssa made pizza three times last week.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, we have all the sauce ingredients. But we\u2019ll have to buy pasta out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEarth?\u201d Tegan said, sounding eager.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell,\u201d said the Doctor, taking off his apron and pausing to wash his hands, \u201cwe could go to Balearis Magna…they make pasta there.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs it any good?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cVery,\u201d said the Doctor. \u201cIf you\u2019re a silicon-based life form. But we’re not…and even my sauce can\u2019t do much for spaghetti made of asbestos. \u2014Though I have to admit it\u2019s certainly very hard to burn….\u201d<\/p>\n
They headed out of the galley together, through the long white corridors. \u201cIs it really your sauce?\u201d Tegan said.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell…you know how it is.\u201d The Doctor grinned at her, a slightly conspiratorial look. \u201cI got it from a professional liar I know…who got it from Wilma, who got it from Michelle, who got it from Michelle\u2019s mother…who probably got it from Leonardo da Vinci. Just the sort of thing he\u2019d throw together between painting classic pictures and inventing machines that were half a thousand years before their time. In fact, considering the tomato hadn\u2019t reached Italy yet, it probably was Leonardo. I should stop back and ask him. And here we are.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHere\u201d was a roundel-fronted door like a thousand others in the TARDIS. The Doctor pulled it open and waved the lights on.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy word,\u201d Tegan said. The room was about the size of the Sydney Opera House, and full of boxes, crates, cargo containers, bags, sacks and satchels, furniture, tools, knick-knacks, kickshaws, and assorted junk.<\/p>\n
\u201cTertiary storage,\u201d the Doctor said, threading his way among stacks of crates toward the far-away center of the room.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf this is tertiary storage, what does main storage look like?\u201d Tegan muttered. She stopped by a crate that had stenciled on it the words U.S. ARMY, TOP SECRET! DO NOT OPEN. A soft golden light was welling out of the cracks. \u201cDoctor, what\u2019s this?\u201d<\/p>\n
The Doctor glanced over at it, then went back to rummaging among some boxes. \u201cHaven\u2019t the slightest idea,\u201d he said. \u201cSomething the Americans were worried about keeping safe. They gave it to MI 5, and a friend there gave it to me. And here it remains.\u201d He straightened up, looking around. \u201cI really ought to catalogue all this mess…it\u2019s getting quite out of hand.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI had no idea you were such a packrat,\u201d Tegan said, smiling wickedly at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh well,\u201d the Doctor said, stepping over some more crates to get at a bank of freestanding shelves. \u201cIt\u2019s hard to stop, sometimes. You pick up things, and then you regenerate, and you get nostalgic about the old regeneration\u2019s stuff, and you never really want to throw any of it away…\u201d He started going through the boxes on the shelves.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat exactly are we looking for?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMoney,\u201d the Doctor said.<\/p>\n
\u201cIn here?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere else, then?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell…in a safe?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy? Who on the TARDIS would steal it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s true, but…\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd generally I don\u2019t need money,\u201d the Doctor said, lifting down a box to get into the one under it. \u201cThe TARDIS is planned to run as a self-contained unit…but every now and then, disaster strikes.\u201d He threw a small wicked look at Tegan.<\/p>\n
She rolled her eyes and went over to help him. \u201cDon\u2019t Time Lords have any kind of credit facility?\u201d she said, joking.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, as a matter of fact we do…\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy don\u2019t you use yours, then?\u201d<\/p>\n
The Doctor coughed and cleared his throat, not because of the dust. \u201cWell, you see, when I left Gallifrey…they, ah…\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCanceled your credit line…\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMmph.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut surely you\u2019ve made all that up with them!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh yes,\u201d said the Doctor, looking slightly annoyed, \u201cbut you know how it is…the official communication has to go off to the credit agency, and they have to tidy up the records, and, you know, bureaucracy, red tape, it takes forever….\u201d<\/p>\n
Tegan sighed, then grinned. \u201cYou ought to get the credit card for renegade Time Lords, then,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
The Doctor looked at her quizzically. \u201cSorry?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMasterCard!\u201d<\/p>\n
The Doctor groaned and briefly covered his face. \u201cI\u2019ve sometimes wondered what happens when you throw an unprotected human being out into the time vortex,\u201d he said, and then went back to rummaging through the box at hand. \u201cNever mind, we\u2019ll find out later. \u2014Here we are, then!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMoney?\u201d Tegan said, looking doubtfully at the dusty contents of the box. It was full of chips and blocks and lumps and nuggets and curls and weird-looking things that might have come out of the insides of alarm clocks.<\/p>\n
The Doctor pulled out one example, a small hexagonal wafer of white plastic. \u201cThat\u2019s a Balearic demi-thrang,\u201d he said. \u201cToo bad we can\u2019t eat their pasta. Here, look for anything from Earth. Pounds, ideally: I want to go to Fortnum and Mason\u2019s. Or the Food Hall at Harrods.\u201d<\/p>\n
Half an hour later Tegan was covered with enough dust to have made her a very rich woman on Rirhath B (where as the Doctor told her, soil for farming was excruciatingly scarce, and had itself become a commodity); but neither of them had so much as a real copper ha\u2019penny to their names. There was precious metal enough\u2014Tegan glanced with amusement at the Denebian \u201cgroat\u201d, a three-pound block of platinum gorgeously engraved with pictures of things with tentacles, which the Doctor had burnished on his sleeve and put aside to use as a paperweight. But the smelter in the TARDIS\u2019s machine shop was out of order at the moment, and the attempt to sell off alien coinages would be bound to attract unwanted attention on Earth.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s hopeless,\u201d Tegan said at last. \u201cWe could be at this for days, and it\u2019s past dinnertime already. Let\u2019s just go back to the Galley and scare up something else.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy stomach is set for spaghetti,\u201d the Doctor said, standing up. \u201cCome on, heart up, Tegan! There\u2019s another way to get money.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll borrow some.\u201d He got up, brushing off his own small fortune in dust. \u201cThere are lots of people on Earth who would lend me five pounds!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAlways assuming you could ever find your way there again to pay them back,\u201d Tegan said, not entirely under her breath, and laughing a little.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d the Doctor said as they headed out of the room, and he threw her a look of amiable annoyance. \u201cLet\u2019s find Nyssa. Then, off to the console room.\u201d<\/p>\n
They found Nyssa in her room, creating life in a test-tube to pass the time. \u201cCome on, we\u2019re going to Earth,\u201d said the Doctor. \u201cHallo there!\u201d he said to the test tube, and hurried out of the room again.<\/p>\n
\u201cGoing to Earth again?\u201d Nyssa said to Tegan. \u201cOr still?<\/i>\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ll find out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRandomization?\u201d Nyssa said, curious.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, not exactly. The TARDIS has telepathic circuitry, you know, and the isomorphic controls can be programmed to find what I want without my knowing exactly where it is.\u201d The Doctor paused, peering at the controls, and made a couple of adjustments. \u201cWithin limits, of course: and it does use a lot of power, but I\u2019m hungry! Ready?\u201d<\/p>\n
Nyssa and Tegan glanced at each other, then both grabbed hold of free areas of the console and held on tight, just in case.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow then old girl,\u201d the Doctor said to the console, \u201ctake me where I can borrow some money!\u201d And he hit the dematerialization switches.<\/p>\n
The time rotor went up and down, the dimensioning circuitry made the usual wheezing and groaning. Then the rotor stopped.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell done!\u201d the Doctor said, and opened the forward viewer.<\/p>\n
They found themselves looking at a wide-porticoed building, all columns and impressive stairs: a bit old, but very splendid in the Victorian manner. Tegan guffawed. Nyssa looked expectant. The Doctor glanced down at the console with good-natured annoyance.<\/p>\n
\u201cVery funny,\u201d he said. \u201cBut the Bank of England was not what I had in mind. Try it again…\u201d<\/p>\n
He hit the dematerialization switches again. The TARDIS\u2019s screen blurred into the bright miasma of the time vortex, then steadied down as the rotor stopped. Tegan looked at interest at the screen: it showed the front of a block of flats in a small quiet street.<\/p>\n
\u201cEaling,\u201d the Doctor said with a delighted smile, and slipped around to pull up the door control. \u201cSara Jane\u2019s house!\u201d He ran out.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho\u2019s Sara Jane?\u201d Tegan said.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ll like her,\u201d the Doctor\u2019s voice drifted to them from outside. \u201cShe\u2019s just your type.\u201d<\/p>\n
But they never got a chance to find out if this was true, because Sara Jane turned out not to be at home: nor was someone called K9, and the Doctor looked a bit sad about it as he came back in. \u201cOh well,\u201d he said. \u201cThere\u2019s always Vicki…or Liz, or Lethbridge-Stewart…\u201d<\/p>\n
But the TARDIS appeared in rapid succession in front of a boys\u2019 school in the country, and a manor house in Cambridgeshire, and a cottage in the Scilly Isles, and in every case the people they wanted to see were away from home. The Doctor was getting discouraged, and once Nyssa heard his stomach growl.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t understand it,\u201d he said, as they came back to the TARDIS the fourth time. \u201cWild card option always works, it can\u2019t be doing this…\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is the TARDIS we\u2019re talking about,\u201d Tegan said.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, wait,\u201d Nyssa said, forestalling the Doctor\u2019s testy reply. \u201cPerhaps the syntax was off somehow. What was the command?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI said to her…thought to her, actually…I said, Take me where I can borrow some money…\u201d<\/p>\n
Nyssa smiled. \u201cTo where. Not to who.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhom,\u201d the Doctor said, but he flashed a grin at her. \u201cThat\u2019s it, of course. Let me revise the command.\u201d He looked down at the TARDIS console for a moment, and shut the doors.<\/p>\n
\u201cHere we go, then!\u201d<\/p>\n
The time rotor began its rise and fall, then quite abruptly stopped. \u201cWe must have been very close,\u201d said the Doctor. He hit the door control and ran out, grabbing his hat off the stand in passing.<\/p>\n
Tegan and Nyssa went after him\u2014then paused as he had, looking around them in astonishment. It was evening in a narrow, cobbled street with many houses: the gaslights that lined the sidewalks bloomed softly through sulfur-smelling fog. A horse\u2019s hoofs and the wheels of the cab it was drawing clattered on the uneven stone-setts far down at the street\u2019s end.<\/p>\n
The Doctor, with his hat in his hands, looked around him in growing delight. \u201cOf course,\u201d he said, \u201che\u2019ll lend me money! Though all this may take some explaining….\u201d And he loped off toward one of the house doors and yanked at its bell pull.<\/p>\n
A slightly stout woman in her fifties answered the door, and Tegan was interested to see that she seemed not too surprised at the sight of a slight, fair man in cricketing clothes, and two (by Victorian standards) very oddly dressed women. \u201cGood evening, madam,\u201d said the Doctor, \u201cand would you be so kind as to tell your employer that he has a visitor on a business of some mild urgency?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCertainly, sir,\u201d said the woman. \u201cPlease come straight up.\u201d<\/p>\n
The three of them went up the stairs after the lady. Nyssa wrinkled her nose. \u201cWhat\u2019s that smell?\u201d she whispered to Tegan.<\/p>\n
\u201cPipe smoke.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShag,\u201d the Doctor said from ahead of them. \u201cHe did always prefer it, even though it\u2019s strong enough to choke most people.\u201d<\/p>\n
A door opened in front of them. They stepped through it and found themselves in a small,crowded study, its several tables littered with books and chemical-set regalia, and many many newspapers. The gas was turned up bright: by it Tegan noticed with amusement that someone appeared to have spelled out the letters V.R. on a nearby wall, in bullet-holes. By the fire two fat overstuffed chairs and a horsehair sofa were drawn up, and from one of the chairs a man was rising. He was tall and lean and (to Tegan\u2019s eye) formally dressed in waistcoat and high collar and stock: a pale man with deepset eyes and a prominent nose.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow interesting,\u201d he said in a beautiful light tenor voice. \u201cWe seem to have a duality of Doctors here tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n
The Doctor looked at the man in open astonishment. \u201cMy dear Holmes,\u201d he said, \u201cI haven\u2019t been here since my last regeneration. How ever did you know me?\u201d<\/p>\n
Sherlock Holmes smiled. A second man got up from the other chair: he was shorter and wider, impressively moustached, and Tegan noticed that he favored his left side a bit as he stood. \u201cWe have left the ladies standing,\u201d said Holmes. \u201cLadies, pray take a seat; the Doctor will introduce you. Watson, you have met this gentleman, though last time he looked rather different. It was during the sordid collusion between Moriarty and that terrible creature the Master. Doctor, do make yourself completely at home. Sherry?\u201d<\/p>\n
The amenities took them a few moments. \u201cPerhaps the ladies will indulge me if I smoke?\u201d said Holmes. \u201cI thank you. So.\u201d He relit the famous meerschaum and puffed on it for a moment. \u201c\u2014My deductions are never really that difficult,\u201d he said, \u201cbut in your case I must stretch myself a little; for which I am glad of your company. Save for the trusty Watson here, this has been a tiresome day.\u201d Holmes looked up, his eyes merry. \u201cI see, Doctor, that you have been pursuing that most gentlemanly art, the wooing of the Kitchen Muse: that you have run out of some necessary ingredient, purveyed only on this planet: and that you are regrettably short of valuta… hence have come to an old colleague for assistance.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut how did you know him when he had regenerated?\u201d Nyssa said.<\/p>\n
\u201cAh, there is a matter requiring a little more nicety of deduction,\u201d said Holmes. \u201cSome few years ago I wrote a monograph on a new science, so new it was until then nameless; a study of the manner in which human beings move, and the ways in which one may infer from such movement much useful information about a person\u2019s habits and provenance. I called the science \u2018kinesics\u2019, but it has since been sensationalized in the popular press as \u2018body language\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cVulgar,\u201d Watson muttered.<\/p>\n
\u201cThough in its way, accurate,\u201d said Holmes. \u201cNow no two human beings move in quite the same way; but there are generalities that affect the whole species\u2014subtleties of expression, of how one holds one\u2019s body, and so forth. And when some years back I was visited by a tall curly-haired gentleman in an odd scarf, whose body language clearly indicated that he had been raised in no culture on the face of this planet, then the only possible conclusion was that he should have been raised off it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Holmes puffed reflectively for a moment. \u201cThen,\u201d he said, \u201ctonight I have a visitor, who though entirely different from the first in face and somatype, still exhibits the extraordinary kinesics I have described. I leave aside the purely circumstantial evidence that he knows me; and that he comes accompanied by two young women, one of whom belongs to this planet but to a very different time, and one who like himself is of non-Terrene origin\u2014though most certainly of a different culture, as the kinesics are again different from the Doctor\u2019s.\u201d He passed over Nyssa\u2019s astonished look. \u201cWhen such evidence presents itself, no other deduction is possible but that this man is the same as the gentleman with the scarf: miraculously altered, to be sure, but the same mind in a different body.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy dear Holmes,\u201d said the Doctor, with a slow smile, \u201cunlike me, you haven\u2019t changed a bit.\u201d<\/p>\n
Holmes grinned, a look so like the Doctor\u2019s more wicked smiles that Tegan almost broke out laughing at the sight of it. \u201cBesides all that,\u201d said the world\u2019s greatest detective, \u201cI say nothing at all of the absurd blue box that I watched appear groaning and wheezing out of nothing five minutes ago. My previous visitor gave me to understand that its shape was not taken by choice: and few conveyances with such a unique malfunction can be out and about.\u201d<\/p>\n
The Doctor grinned back.<\/p>\n
\u201cAs to the money, you may be easy about it,\u201d said Holmes.\u201cThe King of Bohemia\u2019s representative was here only this afternoon to complete payment of a commission, and we are well off indeed. Perhaps you will all dine with us at Romano\u2019s? You shall have your spaghettini there, Doctor: and afterward, the composer Tchaikovsky is conducting his own work at the Garden. \u2014But at any rate, you are curious to know how I knew you were cooking.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTchaikovsky!\u201d the Doctor said softly.<\/p>\n
Tegan\u2019s mouth fell open. She shut it, and then said, \u201cMr. Holmes\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow did I know it was pasta the Doctor sought? Attend, madam, if you please. Notice first\u2014\u201d and Holmes pointed with his pipestem\u2014 \u201cthe faint band or mark on the sides of your companion\u2019s neck. It becomes more noticeable toward the back, does it not? The Doctor has been wearing an apron recently: that is the mark of the neckband. Now he might have been wearing it to protect himself while cleaning…the dust of it is still upon his hair, as it is upon yours, madam\u2014but traces of that dust are also under the areas which the apron would have covered. He therefore was in the kitchen first, and left it to begin his ransack when he found the vital ingredient missing. Also, that fleck of something reddish on his sleeve is yet another informer. I did not see it until just now, when the Doctor reached out to put his tea-cup down. It is in just such a spot as to have been splashed there by a boiling sauce-pot. Careless of you to let the sauce boil, Doctor. It should never go above the simmer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was looking for the bottom of the pasta machine,\u201d said the Doctor.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhich you found to be in some disrepair, to judge by this lady\u2019s blush,\u201d said Holmes, \u201cand therefore you found it necessary to contemplate coming out of your remarkable conveyance to procure more. Whereupon you went looking for money\u2014having some about, but having, as you told me last time, little use for it in most occasions\u2014but you found none you could appropriately exchange. You then thought of friends on Earth…and I am honored you came to me.\u201d And Holmes bowed a little where he sat.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe might have been making chili,\u201d Tegan said.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut he was not,\u201d said Holmes gently, \u201cfor first of all, the aroma of that dish\u2019s spices are both distinctive and penetrating, and would hang about his clothes: and second, the Doctor is allergic to chili. And several gases…as he informed me while satisfying my understandable curiosity concerning the fascinating needs and oddities of an alien physiology.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cKetchup,\u201d Tegan said.<\/p>\n
\u201cMadam, both walnut ketchup and its newfangled tomato-based variant dry a darker brown.\u201d He smiled at her. \u201cSo your Doctor has his Watson as well. I am glad of it.\u201d<\/p>\n
He put his teacup down, and rose. \u201cLadies, Romano\u2019s awaits us,\u201d he said. \u201cYou will all want to change for dinner first, of course. But before dinner and the concert, we shall proceed to Fortnum and Mason\u2019s, cause them to open the shop for us\u2014for the management owes me a favor\u2014and bear off in triumph the best pasta fresh from Rome. Which, Doctor, I would be honored if you would allow me to purchase for you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSir,\u201d the Doctor said, \u201cI would be delighted. Will you come down and have a quick tour of my craft while we change? I\u2019ve made some improvements.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIndeed I was hoping you would offer,\u201d said Holmes. \u201cCome, Watson! We shall see wonders.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2014It\u2019s your recipe, by the way,\u201d Holmes added, as they headed down the stairs.<\/p>\n
\u201cI beg your pardon?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAt Romano\u2019s,\u201d said Holmes. \u201cI took the liberty of imparting it to the chef there. Every patron who tastes it proclaims it to be the finest salsa pomodoro alla Napolitana<\/em> they have ever eaten.\u201d And as they slipped one after another into the TARDIS, Holmes glanced humorously at the Doctor\u2019s lapel.<\/p>\n \u201cI think,\u201d he said, \u201cit has something to do with the celery.\u201d<\/p>\n The Doctor smiled, and went off to look for his black tie and tails.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Brown enough onions and garlic in a deep pan to suit your taste. (This is the subjective part.) Drain off any excess oil.<\/p>\n Add 2 24-ounce cans of tomato paste and two large sized (one-pound) cans of tomato puree.<\/p>\n Add to taste: grated parmesan, salt, pepper, oregano, and bay leaves. (Be sure to put the bay leaves in a little cheesecloth bag or teaball, and remove them when the sauce is done. IT IS DANGEROUS TO EAT BAY LEAVES, NO MATTER HOW WELL COOKED. They are frequently toxic, and at all times can cause intestinal perforation. A word to the wise!)<\/p>\n Cook the above over LOW heat for 4 to 4\u00bd hours, stirring occasionally. DON\u2019T LET IT BOIL!!! Ever.<\/p>\n And add, late in the process:<\/p>\n 1\/2 cup very, very finely chopped celery<\/p>\n If you like your sauce with meat (thus transforming it into one variant of rag\u00f9 alla Bolognese<\/i>):<\/p>\n Use 1 lb of lean ground beef per 6 people. First brown the meat separately and drain off the fat: then add one hour before the sauce will be done.<\/p>\n Make sure you stir the sauce off the bottom of the pot regularly. You don\u2019t want it to burn…even if you’re on Balearis, and the spaghetti won’t.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Something that happens to most working writers over time is that they get asked to contribute writing to charitable ventures (as opposed to being asked to write things for free, a pernicious and annoying habit which the sane jobbing writer gives short shrift).<\/p>\n This happened to me a little more than ten years ago, when the people gathering together material for the charity anthology that would become Perfect Timing 2<\/a> contacted me and asked if I would consider donating a little something Whovian to the cause.<\/p>\n As it happened, I already had something. Years and years before — when dinosaurs walked the Earth and CompuServe was about all there was in the way of online life — I had been in the grip of a longstanding love affair that predates the one with my husband and was, in its own way, nearly as strong. Come to think of it, I’m still in the grip. I love the Doctor dearly.<\/p>\n Back then my fave was Five. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Tom Baker, the first Doctor I became acquainted with in the 70’s via the good offices of PBS (and our local affiliate, the splendid WNET). But for me there was something peculiarly attractive about Peter Davison’s portrayal of the Time Lord: something about the way he handled his personal ethos. These days it’s hard to be clear about the reasons in any more detail. In any case, eventually I did what I had done for a long time when I liked a character: I sat down and committed fanfic. The first short story, “The Effect of Dimensional Transcendence on Mozzarella Cheese” <\/a>— which I wrote mostly as a joke — and later its sequel, wound up in the files area at HOM-29, the venerable SF and Fantasy Forums at CompuServe; and there they sat for ever so long, fading gently into obscurity.<\/p>\n So when the Perfect Timing<\/i> people came to me, I thought, “Hmm: no need to write anything new: how about giving this an airing?” I submitted the story, they liked it, and it got published. So much for that.<\/p>\n A bit later, another anthology came along, and I fished out the second story, “A Dinner in Belgravia,” which scratched not only the Whovian itch, but another one of even longer standing — my deep love for the original Sherlock Holmes. (Not that I don’t have the writer-hots for the new incarnation, you understand. It’s impossible not to admire such a masterly reboot. But old loyalties die very very hard.)<\/p>\n And finally, to my great joy, the chance came to work in the Who universe under official auspices, and I jumped at it… but not without my own very muted back-reference. Readers of “Goths and Robbers”<\/a> in Short Trips: the Quality of Leadership<\/i><\/a> will note a certain concern with food: and indeed with pasta, which was a core issue in “Belgravia”. I think we have to assume that at that point, Five had run through the not inconsiderable amount of fettucine-or-whatever that five pounds Sterling would have bought in Holmes’s London, and needed to restock. Though personally I have to assume that the characteristic selfwilled swerve into the outfield of Time (if not Space) that the TARDIS takes during “Goths and Robbers” is about more than just concern over a Time Lord’s carb intake.<\/p>\n In any case, there’s no telling if or when I might ever again have anything to do with the Who universe in a professional capacity. Obviously I’d love to write for them. Who knows what future years will bring? …But if it ever happens — they’re going to have to work pretty hard to keep me from putting my nose into the TARDIS’s galley. — DD<\/i><\/p>\n Save<\/span><\/p>\n Save<\/span><\/p>\n Save<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cTegan…!\u201d the Doctor said, sounding infinitely weary, and very annoyed. Tegan swallowed and turned toward him, prepared to take her medicine. The two of them stood in the TARDIS\u2019s spacious…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":4653,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_lmt_disableupdate":"","_lmt_disable":"","activitypub_content_warning":"","activitypub_content_visibility":"","activitypub_max_image_attachments":4,"activitypub_interaction_policy_quote":"anyone","activitypub_status":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[790,789,32,772,449],"tags":[791,792],"class_list":["post-4642","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-dr-who","category-fanfic","category-food-and-cooking","category-science-fiction","category-sherlock-holmes","tag-pasta","tag-world-pasta-day"],"yoast_head":"\nTHE DOCTOR\u2019S (FRIEND\u2019S) (FRIEND WILMA\u2019S)(FRIEND MICHELLE\u2019S)(MOTHER\u2019S) SUBJECTIVE SPAGHETTI SAUCE<\/h4>\n
\nAfterword:<\/i><\/h3>\n
![](\"http:\/\/www.dianeduane.com\/images\/cat_who_walked_through_time.jpg\")
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