"Doctor, please be careful!" Peri made a move as if to rush forward and prevent the Doctor from being careless (not that he would ever admit to being less than painstakingly meticulous in everything he did, mind you), but one raised hand and an eyebrow to match held her at bay in exasperation.

"Nonsense!" he boomed in his typical Sixth Doctor manner. "There is nothing to be alarmed about. I have everything well in hand!"

"But Doctor, with our current turbulence, all it would take is one tremor and that steaming cup of tea will spill all over the controls, and you know what happened the last time that...."

"Tut, tut, and tishtosh," the Doctor interrupted, unperturbed, as he made no move to change the position of the steaming cup of Darjeeling which had aroused such concern on the part of his assistant. He was serenely working on a rather delicate calibration of the x and y factors of the Tardis' guidance system and had no time for such nonsense. Even though their current path was far from smooth. "You sound as silly as the Master now," he chided her, but failed to look up to observe the expression which accompanied that pronouncement.

Peri began to angrily storm over toward the Doctor, determined to give him a piece of her mind - she was no wilting flower, after all - and did not care for any comparison with the Doctor's worst nemesis, when it happened, much as she had feared it would. The TARDIS hit a rough patch in the fabric of space, the cup was overturned, and hot fluid spilled into the inner workings of the time machine, and then they both blacked out....

When they came to there was no way of telling just how long they had been unconscious. Or where they were. Or when they were, to be precise. They were no longer in the TARDIS, which was nowhere to be seen. In fact, there was little of anything to be seen, other than a rather bleak and barren landscape, across which tumbleweeds were blown in the sirocco-like wind which whistled unpleasantly in their ears. That, and a single building, garishly lit, with a large neon arrow pointing toward it which proclaimed RESTAURANT.

"Well, there's no where else to go, so let us go there," the Doctor announced, heading toward the restaurant, leaving Peri little choice but to follow behind, still fuming.

The plaque affixed just beside the front door read Restaurant At The End Of Time. The Doctor read it aloud, looked at Peri, then read it again for good measure. Nothing had changed, of course.

"Well, let's see what sort of a meal we can get here," he suggested, as he pushed open the door, "find out what they mean by the end of time."

"Maybe it's just a them," Peri said, following closely behind him, "you know, like that place that only serves haggis. Or that place on the East Side which plans its menus according to the seasons?"

"Perhaps," the Doctor said doubtfully, "or perhaps it has to do with the Time Lords...." Meaning him, of course.

He knew he was in trouble when he spotted the Third Doctor at the podium, as if he were the maitre 'd.

"This cannot be," he said, approaching the older man, "we cannot exist in the same time and space, it is against the laws of the universe."

"You can see for yourself that it's a fact," the other Doctor replied, straightening his cuff as he did so, "therefore it isn't completely against the laws. Besides, you know we've done it before. More than once. So just follow me like a good little Time Lord and try not to lose your mind." He grabbed two menus and started to walk through a door, not waiting to see if they would follow. Peri pushed the Doctor ahead of her, for her curiousity was more than aroused by this odd scenario - not to mention that she was hungry.

They walked behind him, entering the Restaurant At The End Of Time, where there were tables everywhere, of all sizes and shapes, containing all sorts of people from many worlds and times. Familiar faces, unfamiliar faces, they passed in a blue as the Third Doctor practically power walked them to a table which sat near what appeared to be a stage. He set the menus upon the table, wished them, "Bon appetit," before disappearing back the way they had come. Having little else to do, they took their seats, and opened the menus.

"Doctor," Peri began, torn between the dishes on the menu and the situation they were in, whatever that may be, "Don't you find this just a bit odd?"

"Odd?" he raised his head to give her one of his patented looks. "Odd as in just a bit unusual but easily explained, or add as in we're in danger from some diabolical scheme of the Master..... If you mean the latter, then...." But he was interrupted by an arrival, his attention being caught first by a shiny black shoe which once he turned his attention back to the menu appeared in his peripheral vision. The shoe was attached to a shapely stocking clad leg. Of course the doctor had to look higher, how could he help it? The torso was encased in a form fitting blue gown of some tight material, with a slit up the ying yang, and a decolletage which couldn't help but reveal two taut but pleasingly plump bosoms which threatened to spill over with little encouragement.

The Doctor found that his voice had quite deserted him as he continued to scan the beauty beside him, until he reached the head, where masses of dark curls fell along a creamy neck of swanlike propotions. What beauty have we here, he wondered to himself, until he caught a glimpse of a too familiar face, and his mouth fell open in surprise - as well as dismay.

"Can I take your order?" asked the familiar voice of Adrick, who couldn't resist a grin at having surprised the Doctor at last.