The Secret of the Doctor

The Doctor was hunched over the main console of the Tardis. Bathed in a pale blue light, he looked somber than usual. He was staring at one of the screens, tweaking knobs, pushing levers, his facial expression remaining unchanged, the eyes empty, the brow deeply furrowed.

It took him a fair few seconds to notice that Amy Pond, his youthful companion, had walked in the Tardis nexus. She was standing behind the central column. The Doctor had to lean sideways to be able to see her. She just had a shower and was wearing nothing but a long, black cotton towel which covered her body from the armpits down to the knees. The Doctor looked at her feet and thought "bare feet, stealthy, need to remember that."

Amy's crimson hair was still wet. Even though she wasn't wearing any make-up she was resplendent. After sizing her for a moment, the Doctor leaned back and focused on the small screen again.

"Doctor..." said Amy, in such a way that it had to be followed by a question.

"Why do we always come back to England?" He ignored her.

"Doctor? Every other time, we always travel to Britain. To London. Why is that?" He pressed his lips together, as if to make sure not to let a sound out.

"You always offer me to go anywhere in space and time, though every other time it's London. Victorian time, the Tudors, the Dark Ages. Why is that?"

Eventually the Doctor gave up and acknowledged her. "Well, Amy, I have to take you back somehow, don't I?" He said, without looking at her.

"Are you listening to me?" Amy replied in an annoyed tone. "Why would you take me back to The Tudors? It isn't my timeline. Besides, even when it is, you don't just drop me there, we both get off the ship and stick around for weeks on end!" He looked down at his feet, sheepishly.

He pushed the screen away, exhaled deeply, walked towards her, extended his arms and held Amy's shoulders, locked his eyes into hers and smiled.

"Listen, Amy. London is a very special place in the universe, and you are a very, very special person too. That is all there is to it."

He hoped that by making his female assistant feel special, she would let him off. However, to the Doctor's dismay, it did nothing to distract Amy from her inquisitiveness.

"What's so special about London? Why not Paris, or New York?" She clearly wouldn't let go until he gave her a straight answer. Even then, the Doctor couldn't admit defeat. He rolled his eyes, snapped back into his exuberant self, cracked his fingers, and exclaimed:

"Right! Pond! Where should we go today?" He was dancing around the console. "Eexonal? It's beautiful there! Giant speaking trees! Flying whales! Purple skies! Or Agraor Five? It's a planet made of gold! Their most prized possession is dirt! Can you imagine? Swapping dirt for gold? How about Kiki Alpha? I love that name! Kiki Alpha! Sounds great. They have the biggest mall in the galaxy. Best brands ever. I tell you what, let's get some dirt, swap it for gold on Agraor and I will buy you the dress of your dreams! What is it? Chanel? Dior? Versace? Anything, Amy. A-ny-thing!" he was beaming, punctuating every syllable with both index fingers.

"Doctor!" screamed Amy. "You haven't answered my question!"

His childish glee quickly vanished. He ran to the exit door, pointed at it and pleaded "Amy! Best dress ever! Anything you want! The most amazing necklace in the universe! Earrings that make you look ten years younger! Just behind this door! One word and it's yours!"

Instead of taking the bait, she followed him, stood between him and the door, leaned against it and held her palms firmly against it. "We're not going anywhere until you answered me."

Just like Amy, he put both hands on the door, as if he wanted to push it open. He looked down, let his long fringe sway as he did and whispered: "Amy, please, I beg you..."

She knew the victory was near. She stood on her toes like a dancer who was about to leap across the stage, straightened her neck as much as she could and cried:

"Tardis! You are a woman too! Help me! Help me getting an answer out of him!"

Her plea echoed through the Tardis. It was followed by a repeated, almost rhythmic, metallic clunking: the sound of doors being locked, one after another.

Then an eerie feminine voice, coming out of nowhere and from everywhere, just said:

"Tell her."