He was gasping, panting, storming the fortress of her young, innocent body with his eager hands. The first obstacle, her outer clothing, had easily been infiltrated, and now he hastily unfastened the inner defenses. She was helpless before him. She fell against the control panels, sending them into unknown places, and he followed, plunging into the secret parts of her body.

He felt her soft, sweat skin in his hands, desiring to have all of her at once in his grasp. Rose's soft, beautiful, chocolaty brown skin hot against his…

The Doctor awoke startled, panting and sweaty. He pushed the hair away from his brow and sighed. This was the third night in a row.

He put on his dressing gown and moved heartlessly to the control room of the TARDIS. He surveyed the room, which was utterly vacant. The loneliness hit him like a brick to his stomach, making him gasp. This was where he had almost had her, held her in a way so much more real than his dream… his tainted dream. Why, why had she been there? Why did it have to be her—why did it have to be anyone else when it should have been Rose?

He felt so utterly alone, only the cold machinery to keep him company. Cold like he wished he could be. Unfeeling. Unaffected by the pain. But he had two hearts beating...and they both were beating for her. He tried to distract himself, fiddling with the switches and buttons. He started to feel a wild passion inside, recalling the dream. He moved them around, without aim, hoping that they would somehow magically bring him to her. He bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes and pushed more buttons and pulled more levers until the tardis jerked violently and he felt it land. He stood at the door about to go out and see where he was but he realized he was still in his dressing gown. He hurried to make himself presentable enough on the outside. He had to look the part. Even if he didn't feel like The Doctor he had to be The Doctor.

He opened the door to see his new location, picked in a flurry or random angst. light outlined him as he looked out.

He held his breath as he passed through the doorway, then released it in a bewildered sigh as he looked out on the landscape before him. Why had the TARDIS brought him here? He was standing on the grassy hillside of the first planet he had taken her to after his regeneration, only now it had a different look. This ground he was standing upon was centuries away from where he had stood with her. As he took in the valley below him, he also remembered another passenger who had come to this place with him.

"Martha..." he mouthed the word and felt his chest tighten at the remembrance of how she had appeared in his dream where Rose had been. Suddenly, he felt a wave of horror and hot rage surge through his veins. There, of course, had been times previously when that woman had caused him pain or annoyance, but now he fully hated her. She had taken away his grieving time for Rose by stepping into his life as she had and fawning all over him, and now she was sneaking into his fantasies... why? Undeniably, he had looked upon her with certain lustful feelings (after all, she was a beautiful girl, and he was a man), but he had never felt anything for her. Not the way it was with Rose.

He brushed these throughts aside and tried to walk briskly down the hillside, but stumbled on his way. He was entirely out of sorts. He felt that not only his hearts, but his entire body ached.

As he came to the bottom of the hill, he noted that the world he was in was some one hundred years earlier before the one he had come to with Rose, and he wondered if the cat nuns were already gracing the planet.

The Doctor breathed deeply, trying to keep his facial expression from betraying his inner turmoil. He had to be calm. Find a distraction to keep him from going insane. There must be some crisis here he could step into and do what he did best, save the world! And maybe, just for a short time, he could for get her...forget THEM. He closed his eyes for a moment and opened them, a flame seem to blaze in each iris as brought to life the take charge persona he was so good at holding. He walked purposefully into the town. It was much smaller than it would be when he came here with...well...he wouldn't let himself think her name. Not now.

He approached a small blue-skinned alien man who was struggling to haul some crates from a craft. He recognized quickly that the man was from the planet Blatta Matra 11. He gave the man a nod, blinking slowly and wiggling two of his fingers near his nose, a common greeting for Blatta Matrans. The small man recognized it and smiled, an instant spark of respect registered in his face. He could tell that The Doctor was familiar with his people and obviously appreciated it.

"I can help you with those" The Doctor said, not even waiting for a response before he picked up one of the heavy crates. The small man said nothing but seemed appreciative. The doctor followed him into a small warehouse, stacked with similar boxes. The small man set his box down and motioned for the doctor to set his on top. "Time for a break I think!" the doctor smiled. He hoped to get some information from the man, though he knew it would be a challenge. Blatta Martrans were notoriously short spoken. The man only proved this by nodding, not saying a word but taking a small stick from his pocket. He pulled a string on the end and a delicate stream of sparkles fell from it. He stuck it in his mouth.

The Doctor smiled at the sight of it "Ooh, I remember when those were the big thing! What were, I mean, ARE they called again?" The small blue skinned man made no sound. The Doctor could tell this was not going to prompt any conversation. Defeated, he said "SparkSticks, right. Well, nice to talk to you! Got to run!" He turned but stopped dead in his tracks. She had just passed by outside...a blond woman...a familiar looking one. He raced out, both of his hearts were beating hard in his chest. He felt like he couldn't breath, time seemed to slow as he turned the corner to see her. He cried out, feebly, "Ro-" but she had turned now. And she was looking at him with a confused expression. It wasn't her. Not at all. Though the resemblance certainly there he could see now. Her nose was much smaller, her eyes a different color, her lips thin.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I, I thought you were...someone else..."

The girl smiled at him "Oh, I get that a lot!" She laughed in a way that heart his ears. Her voice was quite shrill. She suddenly seemed so ugly to him. How could he have ever mistaken her for-

Her shrill voice murdered his thoughts "I'm Clarma! What's your name?"

"Oh, I'm no one. Well, not no one but it doesn't matter, it's...I'm The Doctor."

"A doctor?" Clarma's eyes brightened. "Why, I know someone who is lookin' for a doctor! You know, they was talking about openin' up a hospital in town! I bet you could get yourself a job, Doctor...what is your name?"

"The Doctor."

"Doctor who?"

He had been through this enough times in the past. He looked at her very seriously. "Just call me The Doctor."

Clarma giggled, stupidly. "What a big head you have, aye? Well, why don't you buy me a drink! and maybe I could introduce you to some friends of mine!"

The Doctor paused, thinking. He felt such animosity toward the woman. Was it simply because she reminded him of...Did he resent her for making him hope the impossible? But he needed a distraction. It would be good to get involved in something, anything. He could sense that this could lead to lots of distraction, and he needed it.

He followed Clarma through the town and into a dark, smoky bar. Considering that it was the middle of the day, there were a shockingly large number of people there. Clarma touched his arm and followed the lines of it with her fingers until their hands met. She twined her fingers with his and led him towards the counter.

"Aye, this here's The Doctor," she said to a woman sitting at the bar, apparently a friend of her's.

"Hot damn, Clarma, you found yourself an outta towner! Where you from, Mister?" The friend turned to The Doctor, and he noticed that her voice was just as shrill and unfortunate as Clarma's.

"Er.. not around her, that's for sure," he murmured, then said more clearly, "Ma'am, may I inquire as to your name?" He had tried to speak like the locals, but quickly realized he had overdone it. His ears scanned the bar, and they didn't catch many courteous words.

"Ha! Yer cute!" squealed the friend. "My name's Melwinda. And what's yer name mister Doctor?"The Doctor groaned, but Clarma took over.

"He says that is his name, Melwinda! Ain't he a character?"Then both ladies began laughing for much too long. The sound was like daggers to The Doctor's ears, stabbing his brain and allowing his sanity to bleed out slowly. He began to unconsciously back away, but Clarma clenched onto his wrist with her surprisingly strong hand.

"Where you going, Sugar?" She turned to him, looking as seductive as she could, but she only seemed to grow uglier and uglier to him. Yet he couldn't back away. It was as though whatever sense inside him that had driven him to run away had been paralyzed. She gazed into his eyes, and he felt the strange sensation of growing smaller and smaller and falling into them. He moved his hand to her shoulder and fiddled with the fabric of her sleeve.

She smiled vixenishly and led him towards a small, even darker, back room of the bar. Although every cell in his body cried out against it, he couldn't help but follow. They passed through a strange curtain, made of something bead-like, and into the small room, which was filled almost completely by a large, fat sofa. She sat down on it, and he followed.

Then she kissed him, and whatever last shred of his free will was hanging on, broke. A violent fever broke over him, and all he wanted was her, that hideous, irritating woman. He ransacked her clothing and tore into her like a Christmas present, thrusting himself upon her with an insatiable desire. She moaned and urged him on.

Suddenly, just as his passion was heating, someone burst through the door, throwing light across the room. The Doctor felt a blow to the back of his head and a needle in his arm, and he felt his senses return to him. He looked up for just a moment before passing out, and he saw what appeared to be a humanoid cat wearing a habit.