TARDIS Control Room

"Amazing," sighed Evelyn. "It's everything I imagined it would be."

The Doctor smiled. "Not disappointed, then?"

"Certainly not. Why would I be?"

"Well, you have to admit, it has been rather overdone by your movies and television."

"The world according to Cecil B. DeMille?" Evelyn chuckled. "I'm a scholar, Doctor. I know the difference between fact and fantasy. And this!" She waved a hand to encompass the whole of the Roman forum. "This is most definitely not fiction! Who knew there would be so many colors and textures on the buildings? And who could imagine all of the sights and smells and sounds!" She sighed. "What a shame I can't show this to my students. Or to my colleagues, for that matter. Living history!"

"It isn't history to the Romans," said the Doctor, absently selecting a fig from a merchant's cart and examining it.

"I suppose not," agreed Evelyn, her expression thoughtful. "But sometimes I can't help wondering . . .how do you keep track of it all?"

"What, Rome?"

"No, no! Time and space, past, present, future. You've seen so much; been to so many places. Do you think of this as your history or your present?"

"It simply is," replied the Doctor. "It's who I am." He shrugged. "It's what I am."

It wasn't often that the Doctor looked at the device. It was enough to know that it was there. He had a photographic memory, after all. But sometimes, on days like today when he found himself alone once more, memory wasn't enough.

The Doctor slipped the small wafer-thin object from his pocket and looked down at the silvered surface.

"Show me," he said quietly.

Light flickered as a holographic image coalesced into the three dimensional image of a young woman with short, close-cropped black hair and eyes very similar to his own. Looking slightly to his left, she said in a cheerful voice, "Hullo, Grandfather!"

A slight wave of his hand over the device and the image shimmered into that of a tall youth dressed in the antiquated fashion of the Jacobean Highlands. He stood with his arm draped protectively about the slender shoulders of a dark haired girl dressed in futuristic silver.

"There ye are, Doctor!" said the lad in a heavy Scots brogue. "We've been looking all over for you!"

One by one they came and went before him, their faces and voices familiar and cherished. Men, women, robots, time lords. These, the special few who had chosen to step through the TARDIS doors and accompany him throughout time and space. Some were more dear to him than others but each and every one held a special place in his hearts. They were, and always would be, a special part of his lives. The very best part.