Chapter One: In Which A Dream is Not a Dream

Sarah woke up, but refused to open her eyes just yet. She'd been having the most wonderful dream. She could rarely remember her dreams, so when they came she tried to hold on to them for as long as possible. This one was particularly good. It had to do with one of her favorite shows, Doctor Who—possibly because she'd stayed up late watching season 3. She had been pulled from her bed by the TARDIS, or its human incarnation from season 6, and had been entreated to follow. Come with me, Sarah. Let's have some adventures!, she had said. Sarah followed her out of the window of her flat and through the parking lot. On the far side she could see a yellow light gleaming and she hesitated, unsure. The woman laughed wildly and, grabbing Sarah's hand, ran toward the light. When they reached it she found the bright blue TARDIS, its windows gleaming with yellow light and the door opened invitingly. The woman dragged her inside and watched as Sarah gaped, taking in her surroundings. It was truly bigger on the inside. The woman smiled a gleaming, mischievous grin. I think you'll make a nice surprise for him. I can't wait to see the look on his face!, she said as she laughed a little too loudly and spun into nothingness. Left alone, Sarah took in the TARDIS that was so familiar and yet so new—the yellow-tinged walls, the metal cording, the hub from which the Doctor ran the ship…and suddenly she felt very tired. A tingling sensation had washed over her and she could do nothing except fall against the various buttons and knobs that would steer the TARDIS, falling onto the cold metal floor. And then she had more dreams…

But now the dream was over and she had to face reality. She sighed. Someone had been calling her name—probably a flatmate of hers, wanting to borrow a pot. She supposed she would have to get up sometime.

She put an arm out to raise herself up and touched a hard metal floor. Her eyes jerked open with a start. "What the-" She looked up at the TARDIS, which had never left her. There were the crisscrossing wires, the blue walls with yellow gleam, the metal flooring, the door that led out to everything…and the Doctor. No, wait, it couldn't be. She shook her head. That was David Tennant, an actor, and this was an elaborate set. She turned, expecting to see the set halved and the camera crew and studio, and instead found the other half of the TARDIS. Here there were staircases that led to who knew what, and a door that led onto what might have been a kitchen.

She turned back, trying to process. Her brain was coming up with no explanations. Finally, she turned to the one person who might be able to give her some answers.

David Tennant— the Doctor?—was sitting against the hub of the TARDIS, watching her. One leg was bent and his arm rested on his knee and his fingers clenched and unclenched absently. Was he nervous? Apprehensive? She couldn't read his dark brown eyes, but his forehead puckered into a slight frown. He didn't seem angry, but confused. His free hand mussed his hair in frustration, and he spoke. "Care to explain how you turned up here, then?"

"I—I was hoping you might have an explanation. Like, maybe it's my birthday and I forgot? Someone arranged an elaborate hoax for me to meet my favorite actor?" She grinned halfheartedly and looked for the hidden cake and a friend to shout Surprise! Nothing came.

"An actor? I'm not an actor, I'm a doctor. Well, the Doctor. But that's besides the point. Who are you, where did you come from and how can I get you back where you belong?"

She blinked, flustered by the questions. If she was to accept that she had truly fallen into her own fantasy, shouldn't her favorite character be friendlier? If this was a dream than surely the Doctor would just accept her presence and take her on a wild journey, rather than frown and treat her like a problem to be solved.

She opened her mouth to answer when she was knocked over by a tremor. A hand grabbed her shoulder and steadied her as the TARDIS shook, overtaken by some unseen force. She looked up to see the Doctor leaning over her protectively, his eyes set with a wild gleam, raking over their surroundings to find the cause. Finally the tremors stopped and he sprang from her as quickly as he'd reached her. He stood to spin wheels and turn knobs and consult screens, and she hadn't yet moved from her crouch on the floor. This was some dream she'd fallen into.

"No, no, NO!" The doctor shouted, and Sarah wasn't sure who he was addressing—himself, or the TARDIS, or Sarah herself, or no one at all. "This can't be where we are!"

They both froze at the next words they heard. "WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED. YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!"