There was a newspaper held in mid air and on it, a picture of a painting. It was a painting that was on the front page of every newspaper that day, and had been for days before.

Because this painting had changed.

'An Experiment on a Bird in the Air Pump', it had written under the photograph of the painting. But there was no bird in the painting, ( Read more... )

Quiet footsteps rang out in the corridors of Stormcage. Each step was precise and exacting, with an sound that echoed as if in chorus with the constant crashes of lightning beyond the walls ( Read more... )

He hadn't been intending to look for any sort of mystery, he wasn't trying to wait for the next huge adventure to appear at the edge of the horizon. What he was doing was trying to enjoy the scone and nice cup of tea he'd ordered in the tranquil little tea rooms on Salmasqua Metrosis ( Read more... )

The Doctor stepped inside the TARDIS, pulling the door shut behind him. It clicked closed. It was a sound that echoed around his mind. Because it was more than that; more than just the click of a lock ( Read more... )

It was a cool evening, with little breeze, but the swing in the park still moved back and forth ( Read more... )

"No no no! Not that one, that one will rip a hole in 1975. Zig zag plotter, Toby, zig zag plotter!"

"Dad, I've got it. Okay? It's cool, yeah? Just chill."

The Doctor was teaching his son to fly the TARDIS. Well, teaching him to fly it on his own. It was nerve wracking, and though, in so many ways, he was superb at it, there was always the chance ( Read more... )

It was morning, or thereabouts. Time didn't really work like that on the TARDIS, which was for the best really, because that would be far too boring. Still, it had been a few hours since the Ponds had gone to bed, so it was the closest thing to morning there could be ( Read more... )

The Doctor was dancing around the TARDIS with purpose. He seemed to knock and lift levers and switches as though they were completely at random, but there was a method in his madness, or at least a madness in his method. River Song was young. Or much younger than she would be. She was only just beginning, and she had a long way to go. So what ( Read more... )

All around the sound of merlin engines whirred through the sky; their delicate hum was punctuated by the painful and piercing sound of the gunfire. The messerschmitt soared ahead, and from John's position in the rear of the plane he could do little but listen and guide as the carnage took place around him ( Read more... )

It had been something he'd been thinking of for many many years now. Something he'd been thinking of since a drink in a pub with an old friend. That was years ago now, and so much had grown and changed since then. Lives created and ended, new beginnings and amazing miracles. There was something he'd been looking for for years; he hadn't found it by ( Read more... )