This Doctor Who fan fiction is not for profit and is intended for individual enjoyment only.

May 8, 1838

Shortly thereafter a large, parked carriage with curtained windows caught my eye. I wasn’t at first certain as to why. The door opened and a figure emerged from a cloud of smoke, pausing at each step to glance back, as if uncertain whether to disembark here or to brave the smoke and continue to some other destination. 

At first glance, the figure appeared to be male, for the clothing, although unusual, was definitely that of a man. But with closer observation, in particular, as I noted the long, dark, unkempt hair, I realized that this was definitely a member of the fairer sex.

Closing the door behind her, she waved away the last of the smoke and stepped onto the street. I regarded the woman with some curiosity, not impolitely I hope, as she engaged in rapid self-dialog, all the while pacing to and fro. I could just make out her words over the bustle of the street.

‘I’ve regenerated. Upgraded, even. But why? I’ve no memory of what happened. Well, what’s the last thing I do remember? I don’t remember! Isn’t that just delightfully mysterious.’

With that the woman looked about her for the first time and, upon spotting me, stopped and glared in such a manner that I wondered if I hadn’t offered some unintended insult. Approaching her, I took off my hat, bowed slightly, and said, ‘Madam, might I be of some assistance?’ 

The good lady stepped forward and, quite unexpectedly, gripped my face with both hands, feeling my cheek bones and then my scalp, carefully examining every bump and crevice. Finally, she removed her hands and said, ‘Open wide and say ‘ah’.’

I did so, and she stepped back, a look of disgust on her face. 

Had I looked unwell? ‘Pardon me for asking, Madam,’ I inquired, ‘but are you perchance a doctor?’

The woman snorted a laugh. ‘Are you flirting with me, you naughty boy?’

Taken aback, I assured her that such had not been my intent, and that I was a happily married man. 

With a sigh, she said, ‘Human. So disappointing. Why, oh why did I have to land on such a primitive backwater as this?’

I stiffened. Could she really not know where she stood? ‘Madam. You stand upon British soil. This is England. You are in London, the very seat of the British Empire.’

Her reaction was not what I expected.

‘Oh my,’ she said, fluttering her eyes. ‘And are we to have tea and crumpets with Her Majesty? I must perfect my curtsy. I’m dreadfully out of practice.’

I confess that I was made quite speechless by this answer. Before I could gather my wits, she continued. ‘Are you still here?’ she said. ‘Shoo. Go away.’

Biting my tongue, I doffed my hat and prepared to take my leave. 

‘Actually,’ she spoke again, ‘perhaps there’s a way you could be useful after all.’

Taking a breath, I asked how I might be of service.

‘Tell me, is my clothing is appropriate for these surroundings?’ 

I coughed slightly. ‘Might I be allowed to be completely honest, Madam?’

An amused smile appeared on the lady’s face. ‘By all means.’

‘Your attire, I fear, would better suit you if you were a man. As you are not…’

‘I see.’

‘And if you would permit me a question?’

She nodded her acquiescence.

‘Your carriage caught my eye and I now understand why. There are no horses attached. How is it that you arrived here?’

After looking towards her carriage and back to me, she said, ‘Is that the sort of thing that’s likely to attract attention?’

‘It certainly attracted my attention.’

‘Right,’ she said and turned to the carriage. 

I’m not certain that I understand what happened next. With a loud slap to the side of the carriage, she said, ‘Oi! If you’re going to be incognito, which is the whole point, then do it properly. There’s supposed to be horses, you pathetic excuse for a TARDIS.’

No sooner had she finished speaking those words than two horses appeared, harnessed and leashed. 

I wondered if I had simply not observed them before or if she had somehow concealed them.

‘Now,’ the woman said, ‘you’ll escort me to a place where you can acquire for me some suitable clothing.’

This woman, who was full of surprises, had finally gone too far.

‘I beg your pardon madam, but no. I do not know you. We have just met. And I will do no such thing.’

With a sigh, she stepped very close to me, lowered her head slightly, and said in a manner most hypnotic, ‘You will purchase suitable clothing for me. I am the Master and…’

There she paused, stepped back, and muttered to herself, ‘Oh dear, this just won’t do will it? Not in this form. Oh well, once more for old time’s sake, eh?’

Stepping closer again, she spoke the following words very slowly: ‘I am the Master, and you will obey me.’ 

When I say that the words she spoke were hypnotic, I speak the literal truth. I felt that I had previously been completely unreasonable and that what I now wanted more than anything was to do this lady’s bidding. I look back at this moment, from the comfort and safety of my study, and remain puzzled as to why this was the case. But I know for certain that, at the time, it seemed that no other course of action was possible. 

‘We must travel to Regent Street,’ I said. ‘Let us take your carriage.’

‘No,’ she said, grabbing me as I stepped towards the vehicle. ‘Not this carriage.’

‘Of course,’ I acquiesced, and proceeded to flag down another.

When we reached a well-regarded establishment, wherein I’d already established an account, I was instructed to wait outside, and so I did. After some time, the lady emerged and posed for me. She had been completely transformed. Her hair was arranged in a most elegant fashion, topped by a black boater hat adorned with berries and worn at an angle. Over a white blouse with cameo brooch, she wore a plum skirt suit and upon her feet, black ankle boots. She also carried a long umbrella, upon which she was currently leaning. 

‘Madam,’ I said, ‘you look most becoming.’

The lady appeared about to reply when something behind me caught her attention. Turning, I saw that it was a pair of gentlemen, somewhat shorter than average, wearing black suits with bowler hats. They seemed entirely unremarkable. 

‘Tell me,’ she said without taking her eyes off the gentlemen, ‘is holographic cloaking a commonly used technology in this era?’

I blinked. ‘I am not at all familiar with this technology so I will reply in the negative.’

‘As I thought. With me. I want to see what they’re up to.’

We followed them, remaining a safe distance behind, as they led us along Regent Street, through Piccadilly Circus, and from there along a circuitous route until they entered a dirty, dilapidated, wooden building on the banks of the Thames. It stood abandoned, its windows shuttered close, its second story leaning perilously forward as if straining to obtain a view of the river below. 

We waited outside for a few minutes until my companion indicated that we should follow, but immediately amended that, suggesting that I should proceed first in case of danger. Feeling that this request was entirely proper, I carefully opened the door and entered the building. 

Within was a sight that completely belied the building’s exterior, for all was gleaming metal with bright, dancing lights. Machines of some sort, I inferred, but for a purpose I could not fathom. The two men with bowlers were nowhere to be seen. Instead I saw two persons wearing black boots, dark overalls with a metallic sheen, a thick iron collar, and as for their heads, they were dark and rounded with no observable neck. Clearly, they’d both been horribly disfigured. 

Shaken, I returned to the door and quietly described to the lady what I’d seen. 

‘Let’s put it this way,’ she said quietly. ‘Would you describe them as walking potatoes?’

‘Yes!’ I whispered back. ‘That’s it exactly, the poor creatures.’

‘Sontarans,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘What could they possibly want with this backward planet?’

‘My dear woman!’ I exclaimed, rising to the defence of my country. However, as she fixed her gaze upon me, my previous calm returned. 

‘Let’s see what they’re up to,’ she said. 

We hid behind some of the machinery for a time, until the two creatures took the stairs, climbing to the second story. The lady used the opportunity to peruse the machinery, and then listened from the foot of the stairs. When she returned to our hiding place, she said, ‘They’re laying a trap for the Doctor! How delicious. I can’t wait to see what happens next. If only there was some popcorn.’

‘Doctor?’ I said. ‘Doctor Who?’

She rolled her eyes and murmured, ‘I should kill the Doctor just so I don’t have to listen to that idiotic question ever again.’

A few moments later, the lady’s eyes widened. ‘What an odd thing,’ she said. ‘I suddenly find that I don’t like this, and I’ve no idea why. Oh, I know, I must want to deal with him myself. Yes, that must be it. So, this won’t do. No, it won’t do at all.’

With that, she once again left our hiding spot, approached the machinery, and proceeded to push buttons and pull levers. She had just finished when the two strangers reappeared. 

Twirling about, the lady clutched her hand to her breast and said, ‘Oh my! Here I am, a typical, helpless Victorian woman. Please have mercy, good sirs.’ She followed this by offering the creatures a low curtsey. 

‘Away with you, human scum!’ one of the creatures spoke. ‘We will deal with you later.’

Shoving the lady to the side, they approached the machinery and glanced at one another. One of them said, ‘When the Doctor is captured and his knowledge of time travel extracted, the glorious Sontaran empire will be unstoppable.’ 

Each took a position close to the machine. ‘Sontar-ha!’ they both shouted, pushing buttons simultaneously. No sooner had they done so, than they both vanished. 

I joined the lady, speechless. 

‘Oh, don’t get yourself in an uproar. I’ve sent them on their way. Let’s leave it at that, shall we? But we can’t have this technology falling into the wrong hands. So, let’s do something about that…’

After pulling several of the levers, sparks flew out of the machinery and the building, constructed out of little more than dry kindling, caught fire. I followed with alacrity as she led the way out. With some half a block between us and the conflagration, we paused to watch. 

As we did so, I felt a sharp object press against my back. Raising my hands, I turned slowly. The rough looking scoundrel in front of me pressed a knife against my abdomen. 

‘Let’s ‘ave your valuables afore I gut you like a fish.’

Glancing at the lady, he added, ‘And lets ‘ave that brooch then eh? And any other jewellery, quick-like.’

The lady, rather than following his instructions, shot out a hand, grabbed the man by the throat, and fairly lifted him off the ground. The knife clattered to the ground. 

‘I really don’t think so,’ she said.

‘‘Awright, Missy, ‘awright,’ the man croaked out. ‘Don’t be so hard on a poor bloke.’

With that, the lady loosened her grip slightly and smiled with delight. ‘Missy! Oh, I love that. It’s perfect. And just for making my day, I won’t kill you. Now, run!’

Upon letting the man go, he did indeed run. But he hadn’t run far when the lady produced a thin, iron cylinder from which a stream of light illuminated the would-be thief. He fell immediately. Approaching the poor fellow, I could plainly see that he was dead. 

‘Oops,’ the lady laughed, covering her mouth as if she’d committed a simple faux pas. 

‘Madam!’ I declared. ‘There was no need for that. We could have called upon the constabulary to deal with him.’

In way of answer, the lady hefted the cylinder and fixed her eyes upon me.

‘Forgive me,’ I said, doffing my hat, ‘and allow me to wish you a good day.’

I took my leave, wondering if I would fall dead upon my next step. But behind me I heard the lady laugh. 

‘Missy!’ she said. Glancing behind, I saw her twirl about and repeat, ‘Missy!’ 

As I turned a corner and sighed with relief, the last words from her I heard were, ‘Oh, Doctor, you are in for a treat.’