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The Doctor needs the loo

Chapter Text

The Doctor stood on the platform with Rose, waiting for a train. They were heading to the Torchwood estate to see if they are any signs of alien presence which Torchwood hadn’t picked up already.

 

The Virgin Train to Aberdeen was displayed as “arriving in 6 minutes”. Once it said 5, Rose asked the Doctor: “Train’ll be here soon, you wanna pop to the loo? Then you don’t have to worry about it on the train.”

 

“No, I’m good, I don’t have to go,” the Doctor stated confidently.


“So? That’s not a reason not to go, just in case,” Rose advised him.


“Rose, I only need the toilet every couple days, if I don’t need to go now, the odds are in my favour” the Doctor argued. Rose raised an eyebrow sceptically, but let it go. She figured if his much bigger bladder was really full, he’d feel it by now. They stepped on the train.

 

10 minutes into the journey, the Doctor’s bladder started tickling him. The pressure made him shift around slightly in his seat. Then he crossed one leg on top of the other. Rose looked at him as if to say ‘I told you so’.

 

“And that’s why going before’s a good idea for all species,” she reminded him, coyly.

 

The Doctor sighed in agreement. “Yeah. Of all the places to be stuck..” he noted in annoyance.


“It’s a pretty big train, there might be a loo in the back,” Rose suggested, pointing to the back of the train. While he shook his head reluctantly, his body made him continue to wriggle as if to express extreme satisfaction with this option.

 

“Alright, if you’d please..” the Doctor said, indicating for Rose to move over, as he was in the window seat, which she did.


“Back in a moment”, he announced vaguely, walking to the loo.

 

Rose was proven right, as the Doctor quickly located the toilet. But, it was occupied. The Doctor leaned on a nearby wall with crossed legs, wriggling his feet as he waited. When he went to listen by the door, hearing the flush, he moved out of the way, squeezing his thighs tightly.


“All ready for you,” said a blonde man exiting the toilet. The Doctor did not know who he was, but you, the reader, might know him as the former mayor of London. You know, the one who rides his bike and gets made fun of. The Doctor would meet him again, and come to like him.

 

“Thanks,” he thanked the man, before entering the toilet. It looked okay to the Doctor. He went over to the toilet, pulled himself out, and started to wee. He did a quiet sigh of relief. He flushed, washed his hands and went back to Rose.

 

“Not so bad, was it?” Rose asked upon seeing him.


“No, not at all. I think the final prognosis is, my bladder doesn’t care”


Shaking her head, as her point was for him to go at the station , Rose smiled as she let him back in his seat. The rest of the ride went smoothly.

Chapter Text

Rose and the TARDIS was having an argument lately, about the interior decoration of her room. Because she did not seem capable of making a permanent decision, the Doctor took her to IKEA.

 

After a couple of hours of looking at different styles, the Doctor started bouncing his knees, while stretching his head to look for something.

 

Rose wasn’t blind as to why.


“Need the loo?” she asked kindly. The Doctor simply nodded.

 

“You’ll probably find a sign to one going in that direction,” she informed him, pointing to the far end of the store, to the right. The Doctor thanked her and ran off. Barely a minute later, he came across a grey plastic sign that said “Bathroom”. He smiled and opened the door. To his slight surprise, this public toilet appeared to be as designer as the rest of the displays .

 

He went over to the toilet, lifted the lid, got ready, and urinated. Once he zipped up, he went to flush. It didn’t work. He decided to just wash his hands and wait, as it might just be a slow mechanism. But it didn’t flush after that either. The Doctor closed the lid and walked back to Rose.

 

“All right?” Rose asked with a smile.

 

“Yeah, but the flush doesn’t work,” he stated.

 

“Probably just a slow mechanism” she theorized.

 

“I checked that, it definitely isn’t,” the Doctor told Rose.

 

“Alright, let’s go check,” Rose said, as they walked to the bathroom. Rose knew, they couldn’t just leave it, his alien urine might be dangerous.

 

Rose walked ahead of the Doctor towards the end of the store. The Doctor stopped her.


“Where are you going?” he asked.

 

“Toilet’s somewhere this way, right?” Rose stated.

 

“No, I used this one,” the Doctor told her, pointing at the grey bathroom sign. Rose walked over and instantly noticed what toilet he had used. She covered her eyes in disbelief before giggling loudly at his mistake.

 

“What’s so funny?” the Doctor asked, confused.

 

“Come here, look at the two signs side by side,” Rose requested. He did, and noticed they were identical. “So?” he questioned.

 

“What do these two signs have in common, besides the look?” Rose quizzed him.

 

“Well, that one’s for a display and that’s..” the Doctor stopped short, realizing why the toilet didn’t work. He made an “ooh..”-face and blushed.

 

Rose burst out laughing again.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll put a UNIT sign on the door, no one’ll find out, I’ll call the Brigadier to help,” Rose assured him.

 

The Doctor instantly shook his head firmly, not wanting The Brigadier to hear about it. She ignored him and dialled.

 

“Unified Intelligence Taskforce, Lethbridge-Stewart speaking,” the Brigadier greeted once he picked up the phone.

 

“Hi, Alistair, it’s Rose. Listen, I need you to bring a bio-hazard team to Ikea, to collect something,” Rose explained.


“Collect what? What happened?” Lethbridge-Stewart asked, now a bit worried. Rose stifled a laugh.

 

“The Doctor did a wee in a display toilet,” Rose informed him, chuckling.

 

The Brigadier smiled with amusement. “I see. Quite. I’ll get a team there as soon as possible” he promised, not fazed in the slightest. He’d known the Doctor a long time after all. Rose nodded at the Doctor, signifying that they were in the clear. The still blushing Doctor was hiding his face with his coat. She found it absolutely adorable. Rose went over to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek, stroking his neck, which the Doctor took great comfort in. They proceeded to continue with their Ikea-perusing. Happily.

Chapter Text

The Doctor put down her fifth cup of tea.

 

“Thanks, Yaz!” she stated, gratefully.

 

“You’re welcome. I’ve never met anyone who loves tea as much as you!” Yaz exclaimed with amusement.

 

“Yeah, how do ya even have room for that much liquid?” Ryan asked, in disbelief.

 

“Oh, just my alien biology. I’ve got twice as many kidneys, and my bladder’s also approximately twice as big.” the Doctor explained.

 

But not big enough, she thought worriedly, as the end result of the tea requested an exit. She wriggled, while admiring Yaz’s sofa.

 

-----------------------------

As soon as Robertson said “bathroom”, the Doctor rolled her eyes internally.


“Spider smashed through a bath. Great,” she muttered under her breath, before entering the bathroom.

 

She found the giant spider beneath the bathtub. After popping her head back up, The Doctor looked behind her to see if Yaz and the others were still outside, because if they were, she considered using the still functional toilet for a moment. But alas, the spider had other plans, which presumably included eating her.

 

She slammed the door on the spider, using the sonic on the lock. The spider looked big enough to burst through it, but she hoped it would give her some time. Before I burst.. The Doctor thought nervously.

 

The Doctor was, unfortunately, proven wrong, as sounds from behind the door prompted a sprint. She tried running with her thighs shut tight, which she thankfully had experience with, though it was still difficult. She stopped every now and then, claiming she pulled something. The third time, Yaz got concerned.


“You alright Doctor? Spider didn’t nick you, did it?” she asked the Doctor.

 

“No, just these new muscles. Legs are shorter than they used to. Keep stretching them too far,” the Doctor answering, not noticing herself wiggling her knees while standing. Yaz frowned.

 

“Doctor? Do you need the loo?” she asked her alien friend casually. The Doctor blushed slightly.

 

“I’ll be fine, I’m just a 7,” she replied without thinking, taking off running again.

 

“A 7? What?” Yaz remarked to Graham in confusion.

 

“Maybe that’s how she describes it, for accuracy. A number between 1 and 10, based on urgency,” Graham theorized, not particularly surprised, that their alien friend who built a sonic screwdriver in 20 minutes, out of scrap metal, used a scale for her bodily functions.

 

“Oh. Maybe she used it with one of her old pals she travelled with before, for discretion,” Yaz guessed, nodding with understanding. Graham raised his eyebrows and tilted his head in agreement.

 

“7’s pretty bad, then,” Graham noted.

 

“Well, she had 5 bleedin’ cups of tea! And didn’t go at my flat. So much for her ‘bigger-than-human bladder,” Yaz replied, smirking with amused sympathy.

 

Once they reached the kitchen, the Doctor began frantically looking for a usable pan


“Oi, what’s up with the Doctor?” Ryan whispered.

 

“She really needs the loo,” Graham explained, feeling bad for her.

 

“Guess we found out exactly how much bigger her bladder is, about 5 cups o’ tea,” Yaz whispered back, shaking her head at her friend's indulgence.

 

Looking around, Ryan found a large pot. He tactfully, hid it behind his back before checking up with the Doctor’s situation.

 

“ 'Ey Doctor? Yaz told me of your little..issue. Where’re you at now?” he asked her, remembering the “scale” she had chosen to use earlier.


“Think I’m about an 8, but I’m working on it. If I can just find..” the Doctor answered, still roaming through the cupboards. Hearing the situation had elevated to an emergency, numerically speaking, Ryan tapped her on the shoulder and held out the pot in front of her. “This big enough”, he asked, not certain how much was really in there..

 

“Oh yes, brilliant!” the Doctor answered gratefully.

 

“I think there’s a maintenance closet over there. I’ll lie to Robertson if he asks,” Ryan suggested, pointing to a door on the right, apparently containing a closet, assuring her secrecy.


“Thanks, Ryan, you guys are the best. Alright, won’t be long.” the Doctor announced subtlely, sneaking towards the closet with the pot. She locked the door, just in case, and put the pot down in front of her. She hastily hanged her coat on a hook on the back of the door, and equally quickly, pulled down her suspenders, and unbuttoned her trousers. She pulled them down with her underpants, sat down on the pot, and let go. Her urine poured loudly out of her, much to her relief. She sighed.

 

“What’s that noise?” Robertson asked outside in the kitchen, looking back with a curious frown.

 

“Probably just a leak,” Graham remarked, which wasn’t technically a lie.

 

Yaz and Ryan smiled at each other, containing their laughter.

 

Inside the closet, the Doctor sonicked herself dry, and pulled up her trousers again. She exited the closet, leaving the pot. Jack Robertson pointed at her in confusion.

 

“Find the roof leak?” Graham asked, prompting the Doctor with an excuse.


“Yes, very big leak. Stopped it with a bucket,” the Doctor lied.

 

“That’s a relief,” Graham remarked, humorously.

 

“Yes, it is,” the Doctor agreed, with a satisfactory smile.


At the end of the day, UNIT got called in to clean up two bio-hazard incidents. A trash pile full of mutated spider corpses, and roughly 3 litres of Time Lord urine.

Chapter Text

As soon as the destination was (hopefully) set to Sheffield, England, 21st Century, her team/gang/fam went to find their rooms, which the TARDIS provided for them, since the trip could take a while, and it had been a long few days. The Doctor felt the effects of time passed, too. But in a very different way. Namely, she was bursting for the loo! Once she was alone in the console room, she jetted down a corridor to a toilet. She closed the door behind her, unbuttoned her trousers and tried to “pull herself out”. That’s when the sensation of her vulva hit her.

 

Oh right! Woman parts , she realized.

 

She then tried pointing as much of her genitals as possible over the bowl. It turned out to be useless.

 

Bloody hell, how did all my lady mates do this?” she muttered in frustration.

 

She whimpered slightly, while bouncing up and down uncomfortably ,trying to come up with a solution. It was at this point, that Graham overheard her, outside the door.


“You alright in there, Doc?” he asked, concerned.

 

“Eh, not quite. My new body’s got a fault!” the Doctor whined.

 

“How come?” Graham questioned, hinting at a request to be let in. the Doctor opened the door. In front of him, was his alien friend, doing a potty dance in front of the toilet.

 

“I’ve got no clue how to pee with this !” she explained, pointing down there .

 

“Right..’cause you used to be an old bloke before?” Graham asked, remembering her mention of a change/regeneration, whatever it was.

The Doctor nodded, waving her hands helplessly.

 

“Ah, well it’s really quite simple, Doc. You just pull down your trousers and pants, and sit,” Graham explained.


“Oh! Well, then these were apparently a mistake,” the Doctor remarked, realizing she needed to take off her suspenders, as well.

 

“I think I got it, thanks Graham” she thanked him with a smile. Graham politely left. The Doctor followed his instructions. Off with the suspenders, pulled down her trousers and underpants, sat on the toilet and let go. She instantly noticed that her entire lower regions fit inside the toilet ring, just like before, when going nr 2. She sighed in relief while urinating.


Gotta say, not that hard. Same as before just twice as often , she remarked to herself happily. She left the toilet, after noting in her psychic paper, to not go anywhere where she’d be forced to stand, never sit.

Chapter Text

Kate Stewart watched the Doctor pace back and forth inside the Boat One, with interest. He’d been doing this for a while, but her father had taught her not to interrupt him. That is, until she saw him scratch his thigh. She raised an eyebrow and smirked, realizing some traits from his other old man incarnation were repeating themselves. Hence, she knew why he was doing that.

Back in his UNIT days, the Doctor had no access to his TARDIS, thus not the numerous toilets inside. Ever an awkward alien, he would have the habit of hiding his need from the Brigadier, occasionally revealing it in ways like this.

The Doctor internally regretted not using the loo in the TARDIS. But in his bladders defense, he didn’t exactly plan to be sedated and handcuffed, nor brought to this plane at this very moment.

“Doctor?” Kate got his attention. He answered with a typical hum.

“The toilet’s just over there,” she informed the Doctor kindly, pointing to a door next to Man Scout.

“Marvellous, thank you Kate” the Doctor replied gratefully, walking over to it.

“You’re welcome Doctor” Kate remarked, making a note of the fact he hadn’t taken out his sonic to soundproof the door. She was about to tell him the door didn’t absorb sound basically, at all, but he had already shut the door.

Taking a second to admire the decor of this airplane bathroom, and reflexively saluting the portrait of Harriet Jones, the Doctor unzipped, aimed and started to urinate. He sighed in relief.

Outside, the rest of the plane heard the Doctor’s loud peeing and moaning quietly. Kate attempted to signal Colonel Ahmed to act normally, but as soon as the Doctor started singing “Let it be” by the Beatles as “let me pee”, both chuckled quietly to each other, shaking their heads at their eccentric, big-bladdered superior officer. The Doctor flushes, washed his hands and emerged, instantly resuming his now, exclusively thoughtful pace. He rolled his eyes and blushed at Kate noticing her smirk, realizing to his slight embarrassment that they had apparently heard everything. Clara interrupted saying,

“Hey, when you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go”

Resulting in raucous laughter from everyone including the Doctor.

Chapter Text

The ride to the country-side was quite a bumpy one.


“The council should do something with these roads,” the Brigadier noted.

 

“Agreed,” the Doctor said. His leg was bobbing up and down, due to all the bumping pummeling his quite full bladder. Every bump felt like it would make him leak, though it fortunately didn’t.


“You alright, Doctor? Your leg’s shaking the car as much as the road is,” Lethbridge-Stewart asked.

 

“Yes, just not used to such rickety transportation. Perk of the TARDIS,” the Doctor lied, with a slight humblebrag at the end.


It’s important to note that the Doctor’s rubbish piloting came later, when he wasn’t helped by a bulls-eyed agressive Scotsman . Perk of not being alone..

 

The Brigadier wondered briefly, if the Doctor had forgotten to use the loo before they left, but because he hadn’t gone at all since they found him in the very woods they were driving to, no doubt due to his “Time Lord” biology, and he had learned not to attempt to understand any part of the Doctor’s behavior, he just let it be.

 

Once they were searching the field for Auton technology, the Brigadier saw the Doctor making more strange movements. The Doctor kept crouching, even when he wasn’t looking, squeezing his thighs together and wriggling. The Brigadier simply pondered whether there were a lot of sharp branches, where he was, so the Doctor couldn’t find a comfortable position to sit when his legs got tired. As uncomfortable as it was for the Doctor, he was relieved , that the Brigadier didn’t know of his embarrassing problem. When the Time Lords stuck him on Earth with the Brigadier, and without his TARDIS, he hadn’t imagined that they would lock his ship! Due to this, he was without his preferred bathroom option. The Doctor didn’t manage to keep up appearances for that much longer, however. Once he gave the back of his thigh a scratch, Doctor Sullivan’s attention zoomed in on the Doctor. He was there, simply to keep the Doctor from fainting in the heat, as he after all, had been through a rough change recently.

Looking at the Doctor’s stature, the other doctor instantly knew what was the matter. Harry wanted to make a remark about a solution, but first he noted down the time that had passed from the moment the Doctor had woken up, as it told him how fast the kidneys of the, still recovering, Time Lord worked. He then proceeded to speak up.

 

“Doctor, are you alright?” Sullivan began, politely.

 

“Hmm? Oh yes, why’d you ask?” the Doctor responded.

 

“You’re wriggling, and your legs are clenched,” the surgeon brought up.

 

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, a bit worried about exactly how much Sullivan knew of his..situation.

 

“Very uncomfortable grass,” the Doctor claimed as the reason.

 

Not believing him in the slightest, Sullivan suggested,”Have you tried pacing?” The Doctor then proceeded to pace around the field, once again scratching his thigh. Harry’s comments had made the Brigadier notice the Doctor’s scratching, and continued hyper-activity. If one Doctor worried another, there was something going on, he knew.

 

“Got an itch?” he questioned the Doctor, who responded with a simple “No”. Lethbridge-Stewart raised an eyebrow. If it wasn’t an itch, why was he scratching his thigh? He walked over to Sullivan ignoring the time lord’s pacing.

 

“What do you suppose is wrong with him, Sullivan?” the Brigadier whispered to him.

 

“It’s quite obvious to me, Alistair. Frankly I’m quite astonished he hasn’t experienced these..symptoms, sooner,” Sullivan noted quietly.

 

“I’m quite certain the Doctor needs to urinate,” he explained.

 

At this explanation, the Brigadier realized that he technically did experience “symptoms” earlier, in the car. He told this to Sullivan, who just nodded. The Brigadier shook his head in slight concern, as the Doctor had shown himself to be unnecessarily shy, probably caused by the lack of a functioning TARDIS, he guessed. He walked away, with the intention of helping the Doctor.

 

“Doctor, why don’t you go for a tinkle behind that bush?” the Brig suggested to the Doctor. The Doctor blushed at having been found out.

 

“No thank you Alistair, I’m an alien, not an animal,” the Doctor said firmly.

 

“You shouldn’t retain urine for that long during your recovery,” Sullivan advised him.

 

“Alright, good point. Though, I’m not sure I can make it over there, I’ll just pee right here. Could you turn around please?” the Doctor requested. Both complied. The Doctor separated his legs, and quickly fumbled with his zipper. He got himself ready , and started peeing. He sighed in relief, while whistling, enjoying his nature wee. Once finished, he zipped back up, and padded the resulting puddle properly into the grass.

 

“Now, that was lovely. Much better. What were we doing here, again?” the Doctor asked, now having forgotten why they were in a field, which the Brigadier then explained, rubbing his mustache in an attempt to ignore the fact that the Doctor had just peed in his presence, and didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

Chapter Text

The Doctor woke up, her eyes still fuzzy from the sonic vibrations. She blinked. As her sight cleared she realized she was in a hospital room, in a reclined chair. Graham and Yaz sat in similar chairs across the room. Two nurses approached her, trying to get her to lie back down. They had been tlaking about “medtags” which apparently was standard in whatever century they were in. She explained that they didn’t have them.

“We need your full bio-history, allergies, fluid levels and life-span data,” the female nurse requested. The mention of fluid evoked an uncomfortable thought. Currently the majority of the fluid inside the Doctor was in her bladder. Noticing an opportunity to get out her chair, the Doctor tried standing up to find a bathroom, but fell down instead.

Luckily one of the nurses helped her back up. Feeling hte weight of her bladder, the Doctor hurried out the room calling on her “fam” to follow her. She figured, if she didn’t find a bathroom on the way she could go in the TARDIS, whichever they got to first. The Doctor was also bothered by an impacted ecto-spleen. ‘ How long was I asleep for?’ she wondered, as this injury was definitely not caused by the sonic mine, but by her comatose state, keeping toxins in.

 

The Doctor walked through a door she thought was the exit. Instead, she found another patient room.

 

“General Cicero’s privacy indicators are on!” an artificial looking man chastised.


“Sorry, don’t know what those are. Looking for the exit,” the Doctor apologized, wriggling in place. Then she realized who he was mentioning. She had heard of General Cicero from the Book of Celebrants. But, when her citation in said book was brought up, the Doctor left the General with her droid, Ronan.

 

The Doctor found no signs of any kind, much less “indicators”. The male nurse, Astos on the other hand, managed to find her, and informed them that they weren’t in a hospital, but in a space ambulance. And that she had been unconscious for 4 days. The state of her renal systems no longer surprised her. After all, Time Lord bladders aren’t supposed to retain urine for more than 3 days. The added time meant the ecto-spleen had to carry some of the bacterial load for the bladder, to prevent infection, and as an emergency organ, the spleen was not pleased with it. The Doctor attempted to change the ships course, with a screen on the wall. A hand print scanner appeared, which she put her hand on. It beeped with a red light. Astos went over to it, seeing that his patient had activated a medical scan. He looked at the data in disbelief. The alert was due to the Doctor’s bladder registering as full. But that wasn’t the incredible part, that was the measurements. 2 litres of urine.

 

“That’s not possible,” Astos remarked.

 

“What’s not?” the Doctor asked curiously.

 

“This data.. What species are you?” he asked.

 

“Oh, long story, doesn’t matter, I’m fine,” she lied, avoiding the complicated question.

 

“This screen says you’re not. It also tells me you’re not human, as I couldn’t hold my pee that long,” Astos countered, pointing demonstratively at the screen. The Doctor blushed, realizing he knew her problem.

 

“I’m a Time Lord, last of, ” the Doctor explained.

 

“So, I’m guessing whatever’s hurting you, isn’t just from the sonic mine,” Astos guessed. She nodded.

 

“Come on, let’s get you a toilet before one of your kindneys start complaining,” he beckoned the Doctor reassuringly. She gratefully followed. The toilets on the ship appeared to be the only room with a clear sign on it. The Doctor stepped through, flicking the switch to lock the door behind her. It was a single bathroom with no stalls. She threw off her jacket, removed the braces on her trousers, pulled them down with her pants and sat on the toilet. The Doctor sighed with relief as she relieved herself. A minute or so later, she was finished.

 

Outside the toilet, Graham, Ryan and Yaz had split up to find the Doctor. Graham discovered Astos waiting a few feet from the toilet.

 

“Where’s the Doctor?” he asked. Astos pointed at the toilet door. Graham raised an eyebrow, speculating that there perhaps had been a particular reason for the Doctor wanting out of the hospital.. She emerged, happy and relieved, ready to continue the argument over the route of the ship. Which didn’t go so well. But, at least Mabli finally got the fluid level info she wanted. 2-2.5 litre bladder capacity, four kidneys and an ecto-spleen.


‘Holding it in for more than 3 days not recommended ’ Unless you’re the Doctor, of course.

Chapter Text

“So, is this the part where you zap me with radiation? ‘Cause that’s kind of an old trick,” The Doctor asked with a smirk, trying his best to stretch in the straps the Master had tied around him. 

“Oh no, more clever than that. You won’t even know that I’ve done it.” The Master answered, suspiciously. He flipped a switch and the Doctor was zapped. It vibrated through him with a slight tickle, then stopped. The Master walked over and tied him loose.

 

“What did you do?” The Doctor asked, worried.

 

“You’ll see,” The Master responded, activating a sonic device, making the TARDIS materialize.

 

The Doctor ran in, and flew away.

 

“Martha! I’m back!” he announced, calling for Martha.


“Oh my god! What did he do to you?” Martha asked, running over to look at him.

 

“Nothing, as far as I know,” the Doctor stated, confused.

 

“Except for tying me up for way too long, so now I really need the loo! I’ll be right back,” he announced, running to the loo. Doing a quick dance in front of the toilet, he unzipped and got ready to wee. He relaxed his sphincter muscles. Nothing happened. There was a slight cramping sensation at the tip. The Doctor took a deep breath, and tried again. Still nothing. He turned on the tap thinking of waterfalls, and other urination-invoking imagery. Again, nothing. But his bladder was full, he was sure of that. He pulled up his pants. Could it be... An idea struck him, he knew the Master wasn’t beyond humiliation. He tried letting go again, this time in his trousers. Thankfully, nothing happened.

He washed his hands and walked out, shaking his shoulders to help him ignore the discomfort of his full bladder.

 

While the TARDIS was in-flight, it bounced and shook with the turns of the Time Vortex. One particular turn shook the Doctor’s bladder muscles.


“Ow!” he yelped in pain.

 

“You alright?” Martha asked.

 

“Yeah,” the Doctor replied quickly, stroking his bladder and crotch.

 

“No, you’re not. What’s wrong?!” Martha asked, demanding kindly. She pulled the brakes to the max, softening the ride a little, running to the Doctor’s side, stroking his back.

 

“I can’t pee,” the Doctor admitted.

 

“Does it hurt when you go, or are you unable to get out anything?” Martha asked.


“It hurts a bit to push, but nothing comes out,” the Doctor answered.

 

“Did you try thinking of water?” Martha suggested.

 

“Yes, all the pee-inspiring thoughts,” The Doctor confirmed.

 

“Alright, come on, let’s check it out,” Martha requested. They both went to the medbay. The Doctor put a scanner on his abdomen. After a minute, it displayed what was wrong.

 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he remarked in annoyed disbelief.


“What does it say?” Martha asked. All she could see was a blinking red dot on his urethra.

 

“The Master rewired my muscles, specifically, in a way that is only undone by a very specific diuretic. The kind that makes me have to go every few hours,” he explained with a slight whine.

 

“Well, let’s get it then,” Martha said, satisfied.

 

The Doctor nodded, and grabbed a vial marked as a diuretic. He swallowed the contents.

 

Soon after, he was able to urinate, with great relief. The Doctor then promptly set course for London, as he couldn’t spend the time it took for the diuretic to stop working, in the TARDIS, nor in space and time. Except for present-day London. 

 

What followed, was the Doctor running to a public toilet every three hours, exactly. 

Chapter Text

Donna woke up from her nap, and walked to the console room. There, she found the Doctor pacing and muttering to himself, occasionally making exclamations along the lines of “No! That won’t work!..” Donna blocked his pace with her hand to ask him what he was thinking about. “Oh, nothing just where we might go next,” the Doctor explained, a simplified version of the true answer. Donna noticed he was wriggling his legs a little. “Do you need the loo?” she asked him kindly.

 

“Yes, I do. That’s where the problem is, the TARDIS is fixing all the toilets. “ the Doctor admitted with a sigh, and clarified.

 

“Well, then neither the future nor the past, will help your bladder the best way. I recommend the present,” Donna suggested, before entering a destination on the console.

 

Once they landed, Donna ran ahead, opening the door for him.


“Come on then, you prawn, shouldn’t keep your bladder waiting,” she called for him to hurry up. He walked out of the TARDIS to see they were parked right outside Donna’s house.


“Oh. Thanks, Donna.” the Doctor remarked in gratitude.

 

“Don’t mention it Spaceman,” Donna dismissed him.

 

Donna opened the door with her key and was met by her granddad, Wilf.

 

“Hi, Donna you’re early,” Wilfred noticed.

 

“Yeah, the toilets in the TARDIS are under maintenance, so I figured he could use ours. It’s just up those stairs, second door,” Donna told Wilf, and the Doctor.

 

“Don’t forget to put the seat up, Sylvia hates it when I don’t,” Wilf reminded the Doctor.

 

“Right,” the Doctor said with an awkward amused smile, raising his eyebrows in memory, of all the times Donna had scolded him for the exact same.. He scuttled off to the upstairs bathroom. The Doctor walked in, and was met by a very nice bathroom. Bit too personal for his taste with the baby pictures on the windowsill, but he appreciated the soft-looking towels. He clicked the doorknob to lock the door, and went over to the toilet. He lifted the seat, as one should, unzipped, got his equipment out, aimed and let go. He sighed in relief, as a steady stream of urine escaped him. Once finished, he washed his hands, rubbed them on the indeed soft towels, then lowered the seat, and flushed.

 

The Doctor smiled with satisfaction as he walked down to Donna and thanked her one more time, to which she assured him it was no problem, and Wilf said “You’re welcome. First time we’ve had an alien lend our bathroom”, to which all three chuckled.

 

The trio enjoyed a nice cuppa with biscuits, before Donna and the Doctor departed again, for more exciting adventures.

Chapter Text

“Hold on,” the Doctor advised Team TARDIS, as they were chasing an unidentified blue thing, turbulently, through the Time Vortex. It was then that she regretted her choice of wording, as her bladder signalled that it wished to be emptied. The cirumstances plus the fact it didn’t seem like an emergency, the Doctor held on as well, and ignored it.

 

While attempting to get entrance into the Kerblam factory, the Doctor noted to herself to ask Judy for the location of the bathrooms ASAP, as she shifted around, behind the counter.

 

The medical scanner used on workers actually scanned all parts of human/Time Lord biology, but Judy thankfully didn’t peek at the Doctor’s bladder image, which would’ve informed her of its contents.

 

The Doctor began struggling to keep still, while working on packing the items. What made it worse, was the interrupting row of unhelpful items such as a water-pistol, a snowglobe, 4 packs of soda, and finally, lemon-flavored energy drinks with yellow “raindrops” on the label! Kira noticed her frown.

 

“You alright?” she asked.

 

“Sort of..I mean, I am for now ..” the Doctor answered tensely.

 

“Are you feeling ill?” Kira asked.

 

“No! Nothing that serious, it’s just..my bladder,” the Doctor muttered awkwardly.

 

“Don’t worry, they don’t treat us as robots. We should have a break in another 20 min,” Kira assured her.

 

“Good,” The Doctor chirped with a smile, before frowning again.

 

“Where are you on the scale, Doctor?” Ryan interjected.

 

“Think I’m at 6 by now,” the Doctor answered, bending down to quickly grab her crotch, before continuing with her task, bouncing on her heels.

 

“You’ve got a scale for this? Where’d you work before Kerblam? Sounds awful, if you had to rate it,” Kira asked with understanding.

 

“Oh, nowhere. I’ve sort of been travelling, to lots of places. Some are kind of primitive with their facilities, not their fault,” the Doctor explained. “Before I met Ryan, I travelled with another Doctor, who decided it was the best support system,” she elaborated.

 

“Solid advice,” Kira noted, smiling at the Doctor sympathetically.

 

Exactly 20 minutes later, the intercom alerted the crosslegged Time Lord that it was time for break. She almost ran ahead of Kira who was the only one who knew the way, as she so desperately needed to pee.

 

Kira instantly directed the Doctor to the ladies room. Upon entering, she ended up face to face with a female TeamMate, who asked to scan her GroupLoop. But, as soon as it did, it realized that it had been tampered with.


“Alert! You are an intruder. You must come with me.” it ordered the Doctor, who promptly followed. A second or so after, the robot started giving off sparks, and lunged after the Doctor. She was picked up by the hood of her jacket and slammed against a wall. A second TeamMate appeared who pinned her arms and legs apart. The Doctor felt herself start to leak .

 

“Oh, no!” she exclaimed. But there was nothing she could do. Her bladder had given up. The pee kept flowing out of her, soaking her trousers. The Doctor resolved to close her eyes and enjoy the relief instead. As soon as she was finished, she wrestled both robots and deactivated them. At that moment, Yaz appeared, as Team TARDIS noticed she had been gone a while.

 

“Doctor! You alright?” she asked, seeing the robots.

 

“Yeah, a couple more malfunctioned, went into attack mode, like you said.” the Doctor explained, showing that she was alright. Yaz noticed the Doctor was clutching her jacket shut.

 

“Did they hurt you?!” Yaz asked, very worried for the Doctor.


“No, not at all, they just pinned me to the wall, as I said, I’m fine,” The Doctor assured her.


“Then, what are you hiding under your coat?” Yaz asked, confused.

 

“Nothing”, the Doctor lied. Yaz raised an eyebrow, skeptically.

 

“Open your coat up, then,” she requested.

 

The Doctor opened it up wide, and blushed in embarrassment. Yaz quickly noticed that the Doctor’s trousers were quite wet.


“Oh. You had an accident. That’s alright, when you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go. They DID pin your legs apart. Don’t worry about it,” Yaz commented kindly, patting the Doctor on the shoulder. Her smile showed no judgement.

 

“Really?” the Doctor replied uncertainly, her face making a half-scronch.

 

“Of course. Accidents can happen to anyone. There’s no use getting embarrassed about something as natural as peeing, no matter where you go,” Yaz reassured her.

 

“You know, I’ve had a couple of lady mates who’d definitely agree with that,” the Doctor replied with a smile. She then used her key to summon the TARDIS.


“Woah, you can just bring your ship to you?” Yaz remarked in amazement as the blue box materialised in fornt of them. The Doctor nodded. “Handy for when you need to change your clothes. I’ll only be a minute,” she answered, going inside the TARDIS. She found identical pants and trousers, and got herself cleaned up, then walked back out, the TARDIS disappearing right after.

 

Back at the home-zone, Graham noticed the Doctor was wearing green trousers. “Why’d you change?” he asked.

 

“Oh, got pinned to the wall. Had a bit of an accident ,” she explained, gesturing downwards. “Oh well, good for your bladder then. They suit you,” Graham remarked, complimenting her new trousers.

 

Chapter Text

“Okay, Missy. But once we land you go in the Vault, agreed?” The Doctor asked strictly, closing the TARDIS doors.

 

“Agreed, old prune,” Missy muttered in response.

 

The Doctor put the TARDIS into flight towards a university Nardole had set up as his guard post.

 

A minute or two after, there was a large bang as the TARDIS hit something. Mainly, two other TARDISes.

 

Both the Doctor and Missy were flung out of the TARDIS into a heavily lit room.

 

Once they were able to stand up, they both realized they were face to face with whomever they collided with. Specifically, the 9th and 10th Doctor.

 

Ten instantly recognised the now female, incarnation of the Master.

 

“What is he..she doing here?!” He demanded gruffly, still a bit befuddled at her gender change.

 

“Yeah, she faked her death again, so now she’s going into the vault. Either of you know where we are?” 12 asked both his predecessors.

 

“The Shadow Proclamation!” 9 and 10 realized in amused unison.

 

“When are each of you from?” Missy interjected.

 

“As I’ve said, Missy made trouble which involves her incarceration in a Vault,” 12 repeated.

 

“I’ve just had chips with Rose,” 9 explained.

 

“Right,” Ten commented quietly, beginning to cry slightly. Twelve gave him a half hug as comfort.

 

“And I’ve just said goodbye to Donna,” he said finally. 12 hugged him harder.

 

“Well, this is very nice but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re stuck here,” Missy reminded them irritably.

 

“I’ll go find the Shadow architect, she might know how to get our TARDISes back,” Ten announced walking away.

 

“You wouldn’t happen to know where there’s a loo, would you?” Missy asked politely.

 

“Er, yeah down that way. Hang on,” 10 said, using his sonic on one of the computers.

 

“There’s an obnoxious AI, asks you about your “business”, I’ve disabled it,” he explained.

 

“Thanks,” Missy thanked him.

 

“Actually, I kinda have to go too, I’m gonna see if there’s another toilet somewhere,” Ten announced walking away. The remaining Doctors split up to find additional toilets as well.

 

Soon, all returned, none of the Doctor having found any other public bathrooms.

 

“No luck?” Ten asked his other selves. They both shook their head.

 

“Missy! You didn’t see a second bathroom next to the one you went to, did you?” he asked her.

 

“No. All of you need a wee? That’s so typical of you Doctor!” She cackled.

 

“Looks like we’re gonna have to go in turns,” Nine remarked.

 

“We’ll go in order of regenerations,” Ten suggested, as they were walking to the single bathroom.

 

“Hang on, no! According to how old we look, me first, I’m old,” 12 demanded.

 

“No, you aren’t! You run like a penguin with his arse on fire!” Missy teased loudly. He resigned to his predecessor's plan.

 

The two older Doctors hopped up and down waiting for Nine.

 

“That’s better! Fantastic. Your go,” He greeted Ten, upon exiting. Ten thanked him and went in.

 

He sighed in relief as he urinated. Outside, Twelve had started doing a Russian folk dance to keep his sphincter tight.

 

“Ah, that’s better. Go ahead gramps,” he teased himself kindly.

 

“Shut up!” 12 barked, entering and doing a long albeit slow, wee.

 

After all the Time Lords had gotten themselves taken care of, the Shadow Architect appeared.

 

“I don’t know why multiple versions of you are here, Doctor, nor do I know why SHE isn’t in her vault. What I care about, is why you haven’t learned to GO before you leave by now,” she remarked with a smirk. All three blushed.

 

“Well, we didn’t plan to crash into each other!” Ten and Nine defended themselves in unison. She nodded, and after getting a lecture about the health, taken from data on the computer in the Shadow Architects office which was NOT disabled, the 2/4 Time Lords went on their wibbly wobbly, timey wimey way!

Chapter Text

The Doctor, Martha and Captain Jack were walking along Cardiff Bay. After a while, Martha noticed the Doctor kept looking around him and frowning.


“What are you looking for?” she asked.

 

“Eh.. toilets,” he replied, awkwardly, scratching the back of his ear.

 

“There should be some next to the fountain,” Jack informed him. The Doctor smiled.

 

Sure enough, on the other side of the fountain to where they usually parked the TARDIS, was a small public toilet building.

 

“Alright, I’ll just be a minute”, the Doctor announced running over to it. But before he could sonic the door open, he noticed a small “out of order” sign on it. He groaned and rolled his eyes in annoyance, and walked back.


“It’s out of order,” the Doctor told them.

 

“Which is further away, the TARDIS or Torchwood Hub?” Martha asked the captain.

 

“The Hub. It’s right down there,” Jack replied, pointing to a subtle latch in the ground. The three climbed down into the Torchwood 3 headquarters.

 

“Hey Jack, you’re back early. And you’ve brought the Doctor!” Gwen greeted the three.

 

“He’s just popping in to use the loo,” Jack explained before giving the Doctor the directions. But Ianto Jones stopped him.

 

“You don’t want to use ours. I may or may not have wrecked it, recovering from a bender last night,” Ianto informed the Doctor.

 

The Doctor got a deflated expression.

 

“Oh, well TARDIS it is, then,” he said with a sigh. They politely left. On their way to the TARDIS, they were stopped by a man introducing himself as Brussels D Navies, the new mayor of Cardiff.

 

“I got alerted that there was a code 9, and here you are! Might I ask, what is the purpose of your visit to the Hub?” the mayor questioned.


The Doctor blushed and looked down, having no intention of answering himself.

 

“It’s a bit..private,” Martha explained, whispering the truth in the mayor’s ear.


“Oh, well that’s completely natural. Good, no alien invasion. Well, besides you of course,” Navies said with a chuckle.

 

Noticing the Doctor bouncing on his toes, mildly desperately, Jack quickly said goodbye to the mayor. The three took off running to the TARDIS, one of whom did it only out of difficulty standing still .. as well as urgently needing the toilet.

 

Hopping from foot to foot, the Doctor got the TARDIS door open, and went in, both Martha and Jack waiting outside. He ran down a corridor, found a toilet, and went in to pee. He moaned slightly in relief, as he finally peed. He washed his hands and walked back out with a big smile, to say a proper goodbye to Jack. Also known as the Face of Boe..?!

Chapter Text

Using Magna-clamps, The Doctor had managed to easily carry most of Graham’s stuff, which he was intending to deliver to the recycling plant in Huddersfield, into Graham’s car.

 

“How come I’ve never seen one of them at a DIY store,” he asked the Doctor, referring to the clamps.

 

“They were made by Torchwood, UNIT confiscated them, and then I..borrowed them,” The Doctor replied, innocently.


“Nicked them, did you?” Graham remarked with a smile.


“Hey, they never used them!” she protested.

 

Graham locked the trunk, and they got in the car.

 

While the Doctor was throwing down some old toasters, she heard the sound of liquid pouring, from some type of washing device next to her. It made her squeeze her thighs together, as she realized she needed the loo!

 

She looked around. Besides the containers, it looked like a big empty lot. She walked over to Graham. “Er, Graham. Are we nearly done?” the Doctor asked discreetly.

 

“Why d’you ask?” he asked.

 

“No reason! Just kind of would like to get back home,” the Doctor lied.

 

“Well then yeah, just a few more things” he assured her, not quite believing her. The Doctor gave a fake smile of confidence.

 

During the first few minutes of the ride home, the Doctor just stared out of the window. Then she decided to get her problem dealt with.

 

“Graham, could we stop at the next service station please?” she requested.


“Need the loo?” Graham asked. The Doctor nodded. “Increasingly so,” she added with a wriggle. He gave a thumbs up in acknowledgement.

 

As Graham was about to take the next exit, he was stopped by a car in front of him. He looked behind him. They were blocked in.

 

“Oh no,” the Doctor muttered.

 

“You doing alright?” Graham asked with concern.

 

“For now,” she replied optimistically, crossing one leg on top of the other.

 

10 minutes later, the Doctor was holding herself, thighs squeezed together, rocking in her car seat.


“Is there really NOWHERE you can pull over?” she asked Graham with a whine.

 

“No, unless you want to get out,” he suggested, partially joking. As soon as he said that, the Doctor bolted out of the car. She ran up on a grassy embankment on the side of the road, and started taking off the straps of her suspenders. The Doctor then unbuttoned her trousers, pulled them down with her pants, got in position in a way where she wouldn’t pee on her clothes, and let go. She sighed audibly in relief as she urinated. Once finished, she wiped with some leafy plants, and pulled her clothes back up, and got back in the car.


“There! That’s much better!” the Doctor cheered happily with a sigh.

 

“Alright then, good for you,” Graham remarked with a nod and a smile, happy for her. The following weeks featured a news report of “Huddersfield plants growing twice as well, due to traces of Time Lord urine, according to UNIT sources,” The End.

Chapter Text

The TARDIS was getting quite fed up with the Doctor. The way he kept playing loud music on her console, stomping on her grates, pushing the doors open, hammering on her and leaving the brakes on. She decided that he needed to learn to respect his ship more. And she knew just how to do it.

 

Rose woke up one morning, and walked into the console room, finding the Doctor fiddling with some controls.


“See you’ve finally got her to stop fussing when you fix her,” she remarked. The ship hummed nonchalantly. She was simply tolerating his tinkering, due to what she had planned..

 

“Yeah, good thing too, leaves less work for UNIT to deal with today,” the Doctor replied happily.

 

“We’re stopping by the headquarters? Why?” Rose asked.

 

“They’ve got a new Head of Scientific Research they want me to meet, her department’ll check out the TARDIS in the meantime,” he explained, setting the destination, and wiping his hands on his trousers.

 

“Be there soon then?” Rose questioned.


“Yep!” the Doctor responded with a grin.

 

After two minutes of bumping, clanking, and urine rapidly filling the Doctor's bladder, without him noticing, the TARDIS landed..

 

“There are we then, London, England, 21st Century, Tower of London.” the Doctor announced, walking towards the door. Then he stopped himself, feeling a sensation of mild pressure in his bladder.


“Hang on just a sec,” he remarked offhandedly, running down a corridor to use the toilet. He found the familiar door, and attempted to open it. But it wouldn’t budge.

 

That’s odd..

 

He tried again. Still nothing. He felt the TARDIS rumbling in a way that suggested the ship was laughing.

 

What’s so funny? Was this the one I clogged the other day ?’ he asked the ship, not remembering which one it actually was. There was no reply.

 

The Doctor just shrugged and walked further down towards the next toilet. He tried that door. Also no success.

 

What did you do?’ he asked the ship accusingly, now getting quite annoyed. The TARDIS stayed silent.

 

The Doctor rolled his eyes and sighed, realizing that the other toilets were definitely locked too. He just walked back to Rose.

 

“Sorry for the wait, think something's going on with the TARDIS.,” he remarked apologetically.

 

“How come?” Rose asked confused.

 

“Doesn’t matter. I hope.. ” he dismissed her question, saying the last bit under his breath.

 

The Doctor was introduced to the new Chief Scientific Officer, Kate Stewart.


“Wait, you’re not related to Lethbridge-Stewart are you?” he asked her with interest.


“Well, yes. I’m his daughter, though I don’t like to go on about it, people would treat me differently,” Kate confirmed, and explained with honour.

 

“We wouldn’t want that,” the Doctor responded in agreement, smiling widely at the Brigadier’s wonderfully humble daughter.

 

The Doctor had a nice long chat with Kate about her father, and their work together in the 80s.

 

“What’s your favourite story about me?” the Doctor asked.


“I think it’s the one about you peeing in a field,” Kate answered with a chuckle. The Doctor blushed wildly in remembrance.

 

“Oh, right..yeah, not my proudest moment,” the Doctor noted with a smile.

 

“The other 5 incarnations between you and him probably agreed,” she replied with a smile.

 

At the end of the day, UNIT had disabled the TARDIS’ dematerialisation, for proper observation. The Doctor had by this point gave the TARDIS enough space for her unidentified “tantrum” and was much more in need of a toilet, than in the morning. He ran in ahead of Rose, ready to use whatever flattery necessary to get the toilet door open. It was getting urgent .

 

He walked quickly down a corridor to where he knew there was a toilet. Or, did he? The toilet was supposed to be the sixth door on the right. It wasn’t on the left either. The Doctor knew he hadn’t walked past it closer to the console room. Frowning, he kept walking further down the corridors. Still no toilet. He ran to the left, then back to the right. Criss-cross through the many halls on the inside of his bigger-on-the-inside ship. There wasn’t a toilet anywhere. After only 2 minutes of running around, he had to run with his thighs clenched, occasionally holding his crotch at the same time. He stopped to wipe the sweat of his brow, jiggling his knees, quite worried about the disappearance of the toilet he so desperately needed.


“Where have you hidden them?!” he pleaded to the TARDIS. No response.


Please! Whatever I have done, I’m sorry! I really need to pee! Help me! ’ he begged in a panic.

 

It’s not an apology I’m after,’ the ship explained, suddenly speaking.


Then what is it?! ’ the Doctor asked, almost crossing his legs.

 

A promise,’ she requested.

 

To treat me with more respect. You’ve been abusing me,’ the TARDIS stated with a huff/ indignant hum.

 

I know I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I promise, I’ll get better. I’ll stop hurting you, patting your dashboard more.’ the Doctor agreed, and promised.

 

Seeing her owners strained stature, the ship accepted with a hum.

 

You’ll find the toilet behind you on the left,’ the TARDIS informed him, kindly.

 

He looked, and sure enough, there it was.


“Thank you, Sexy,” he said quietly, patting the wall, before bursting in the door, locking it behind him. He quickly unzipped and pulled out, aimed and finally, let go. A long, nice, relieving stream of urine was released. He sighed with his eyes closed, in relief. The Doctor flushed, washed his hands and walked back to meet Rose.

 

“Where were you? Did you constipate yourself or something?” Rose jokingly asked upon seeing him.

 

“No, I wish..the TARDIS was still mad at me, and hid all the toilets. I worked it out though,” the Doctor explained with a reassuring smile, albeit blushing, in slight embarrassment.

 

Rose laughed kindly at his hilarious misfortune. The Doctor chuckled with her.

 

The End.

Chapter Text

The Doctor paced back and forth in their small cell.

 

“So.. what’ve you got?” Amy asked curiously.

 

“Hmm?” The Doctor replied, looking up.

 

“Plans, to get us out of here? Isn’t that what you’re thinking about?” Amy asked.

 

“No, I already thought through that, soon as they locked the door, didn’t come up with anything. It’s the thought that hit me after that, I’m worried about,” he explained with a worried frown, still pacing.

 

“Are you okay?” Amy asked, raising an eyebrow with suspicion.

 

“Not really..not at all, actually, to be honest,” the Doctor admitted with a sigh.

 

“Why don’t you sit down, try to calm down?” Amy suggested.

 

“Ehhr..yeah, alright, pacing isn’t helping anymore,” he remarked, sitting down. He instantly put one leg on top the other, bouncing his knee rapidly, mildly wriggling from side to side.

 

“Doctor?” Amy interrupted subtly. He turned his head slightly, and gave a sideways glance.

 

“Do you need the loo?” she asked him.

 

“Yes. Quite badly. So what? Not like I can do anything ‘bout it,” he muttered with annoyance, squeezing his thighs tighter at Amy’s mention.

 

“Yeah you can,” Amy corrected, looking puzzled at his oblivion.

“How? Do you see a toilet anywhere in this room, ‘cause I don’t,” the Doctor reminded her, in frustration about his increasingly urgent need.

 

Amy sighed and rolled her eyes.

 

“No, stupid! I mean, go in a corner ,” she explained with a smile.

 

The Doctor’s eyes widened in shocked realization. He awkwardly adjusted his bowtie.

 

“Oh! Oh, no, no, no, absolutely not,” He replied firmly.

 

“Why not. I don’t mind,” Amy assured him.


“It’s not whether you mind , the problem is that you’re here, ” the Doctor explained, with a slight blush.

 

“Would it help if I turned around?” Amy asked.

 

“Ehhr, it’s worth a try,” The Doctor hesitantly accepted. He got up, gave his crotch a quick squeeze, then walked to a corner. Looking back, he made sure that Amy had turned around. She had.

 

Taking a deep breath for confidence, considering the less-than-private circumstances, he unzipped himself. The Doctor pulled out, aimed for the wall, closed his eyes and let go. Amy’s hands covering her ears weren’t sufficient to block out the loud sound of the Doctor peeing. The Doctor moaned quietly in relief, finally releasing his very full bladder. He urinated for about a minute, then sighed as he zipped himself back up. He washed his hands with hand sanitizer and walked back to Amy.

 

“Ah, that’s much better. Thank you, Amy,“ he said gratefully, still a bit embarrassed.

 

“Don’t mention it, When you’ve gotta go, you gotta go,” she replied kindly.

 

“Yes, indeed. Allons-y!” The Doctor remarked in agreement.


‘Hmm... I think that was something old me used to say..’ He thought to himself with amusement...

Chapter Text

To say her day wasn’t going well, would be an understatement. All she had wanted was to visit Edward Jenner and his son, not parley in the French Indian war! Even worse, was the fact that the Seminoles confused her sonic for a magic wand. Again . But the absolute worst thing, was that she was increasingly in need of a toilet. 

 

As soon the Doctor managed to convince them that she was some sort of Native-friendly diplomatic person, whatever they had read on the psychic paper, and let her loose, she ran off. 

 

She stopped herself at the edge of the woods, realizing the TARDIS wasn’t anywhere inside the forest, at least not close. She scuttered around the village for anything resembling primitive toilets. There was none. As the Doctor looked around, she began doing a vigorous potty dance. Only, the totem behind her seemed to have a faulty translation circuit, as it began to rain excessively. How ironic.. She muttered to herself in disbelief.

 

Only a few seconds away from needing to cross her legs, the Doctor gave up. Or, changed her mind. The Doctor closed her eyes, spread her legs, and let go. With a big smile of relief, the Doctor peed in her trousers. Now much more comfortable, she used her now free , hand to grab her TARDIS key, after walking into the forest away from the ‘temporal locals’ of course.

 

“Where’d you go? Back to the rainforest of Kinstarno?” Graham remarked, seeing her absolutely soaked state. 

 

“No. Accidentally triggered a rain spell in an Indian village. Not the first time. Although, the last time was technically fake..” Graham nodded at her in semi-understanding before she brought up River Song. 

 

“Why are your trousers wetter than your hair?” Yaz asked. She noticed that while the TARDIS had begun to dry her hair, as soon as the Doctor had walked in, her trousers were still many shades darker than before. 

 

“Everyone knows the rain makes you wetter on your bottom half than on the top of your head,” the Doctor explained. 

 

“Your shirt’s dry too,” Ryan mentioned.

 

“Well, I’ve got my coat on,” the Doctor replied.

 

“Which goes down to your knees, which strangely, is where the wetness stops,” Yaz pointed out.

 

“Come on, Doc. What happened?” Graham asked kindly. 

 

“I forgot to use the loo before I left, and it was the 17th century, and a Native American village, so no toilets. I really don’t like going in the woods, so, since it was raining and I really needed a wee, I just.. went, ” The Doctor admitted with a blush. 

 

“Alright, when you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go,” Graham remarked in understanding, chuckling. Ryan and Yaz laughed in agreement. 

 

Maybe I should find some moisture-disguising trousers, the Doctor thought as she put the TARDIS into flight, and went to change her clothes. 

 

The End.

Chapter Text

The Doctor, with the help of River, landed the TARDIS gracefully in Hooverville. The date was October 21, 1930. The Doctor wanted to check out how the tunnels looked, when nobody but the pig men was supposed to be there. They climbed carefully into the sewer, locking the TARDIS, and sonicking the sewer lid shut, behind them. 

 

The Doctor noticed several of the Dalek jellyfish things, throughout the sewer. He bent down to scan one of them with his sonic.

 

“Looks like some type of embryo. A remnant of the few who didn’t survive the climate, sacrificed themselves by throwing themselves out of their casing,” the Doctor stated solemnly. 

 

“Pity. Thought Daleks were smarter than Napoleon, or Hitler was, during their wars. Rule 1: Dress for all types of weather,” River mocked them, showing off her combination of leopard-print t-shirt and woollen jacket. 

 

While the Doctor admired the fallen Skarovian, the walls of the sewer dripped excessively. It was then, that he realized that he hadn’t gone to the loo before leaving. He gave his crotch a quick squeeze. River noticed.


“Something wrong, sweetie? Got an itch?” she asked curiously.

 

“Er, yes,” the Doctor answered quickly, getting up and adjusting his trousers. They kept walking.

 

The Doctor wanted to relieve himself, especially considering he was in the perfect place for it. But River was there, and his wife wasn’t someone he particularly wanted to do that in front of. 

 

“Keep up, honey!” River barked kindly after him. His stiffer pace had led to him slacking slightly behind. 

 

He hurried forward in a march. 

 

“Why are you walking like that? There’s no one here you need to be nervous about, “ River questioned, at the same time assuring him.


“That’s not what I’m nervous about, River,” the Doctor spat out dryly. At these words, she turned to look at her husband. He was frowning.

 

“Then what is it? What’s wrong?” she asked with concern.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” he attempted to evade the question.

 

“Yes, it does. Your legs are in no shape to be running fast, and you’re hiding something from me, which you almost never do. And you’ve just admitted twice that something is wrong, and that matters to me, so just tell me,” River requested, insisting. The Doctor answered by blushing wildly, and looking away. River put a hand on his chest to stop him, and looked at him. But, instead of seeing an adorable erection, caused partially by her loose attire, and also by the cold of the sewer, she instead saw evidence of a much cuter issue. The Doctor had instantly put one hand on his thigh, scratching it. Both his thighs were as tightly together as when he walked, and his crotch almost vibrated, due to the lack of movement. She understood at once. The Doctor needed the loo.

 

“Oh, sweetie, why so shy? I’ve seen you naked, you don’t have to worry about weeing in front of me, I won’t judge. Now, why don’t you go over by that wall?” River suggested, comfortingly, giving his crotch another squeeze for him, to which the Doctor reacted by batting her hand away, covering himself like a little boy. The manchild that was the Doctor was still blushing, and looking down and shaking his head resistantly. 

 

“Would it help if I turned around?” River asked, stroking his right cheek.

 

“Yes,” the Doctor answered firmly. River pointed once again to an attractive location for his pee, and promptly turned around. He thanked her, and walked over to the wall. He casually unzipped, and began peeing onto the wall, moaning/sighing loudly in relief. After a little while, he was done. 

 

“Ah, that’s much better!” the Doctor remarked in satisfaction.

 

“Good. Now, you didn’t answer my question. Why are you embarrassed to wee in front of me?” River asked. 

 

“Well, it’s different than when we.. dance . It’s more private to me. After all, I’ve been peeing longer than I’ve done the other thing..almost always without an audience. I’m just so used to that. And you’re my wife. You’re a close and intimate person to me, I just don’t fancy you seeing that part of me,” the Doctor explained. 

 

“It’s also a part of nature, you know. And I find, that a couple at their most intimate, usually feel comfortable doing their excretory activities in front of one another. After all, we love each other, and love means openness. It may be easier for you in the TARDIS, where we live, but I think you know as well as I do, that it won’t be where we spend most of our time. It’s alright, Doctor, I don’t mind. Seeing you hurt your bladder for my sake is the last thing I want. Okay?” River replied, assuring him. 

 

“Good point. Alright!” the Doctor said in agreement. He emphasized his surrender to nature, by telling her all the stories of times he really needed to go.

 

The End.

Chapter Text

“Alright gang, 1 more try!” The Doctor cheered, walking to the door. At this moment, the TARDIS shook, only on the part of the floor,  she was standing on, and made her trip and fall. 

 

“Ow!” she exclaimed.

 

Aren’t you forgetting something? ’ The TARDIS pointedly asked her telepathically. 

 

Certainly not my sense of coordination,’ the Doctor snarked in response.

 

It’s been 5 days,’ the ship reminded her. 

 

Oh, no.. the Doctor thought to herself. Right this moment, as she was leaving?!

 

Yeah, so what? Won’t be long, this is probably the right place ’ she stated confidently.

 

‘Trouble finds you no matter where you are. And this isn’t a need you can ignore so easily,’ The TARDIS warned.

 

But, the Doctor simply ignored her and walked to the door.

 

“Who were you ‘talking’ to?” Yaz asked, noticing that she appeared to have been talking to someone telepathically.

 

“My ship, and it wasn’t talking, more of an argument, ” she huffed at her ship.

 

“What about?”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” the Doctor evaded the explaining, and walked out to find 1950s Montgomery, Alabama. 

 

The Doctor began feeling gassy as they “introduced” themselves to Rosa Parks. Surprisingly, Parks heard the rumbling.

 

“You eat something you shouldn’t, Ma’m? Sounds like you might need a Doctor,” Rosa noted.

 

“Er, yes, splendid idea, we’ll go right away” the Doctor lied, guiding her “Team” to follow her. 

 

“Are you alright?” Yaz asked with concern. 

 

“Fit as a fiddle, just a spot of gas.” the Doctor claimed. Really though, it wasn’t just any gas, it was a warning.

 

Right as she said that, her supposed “spot of gas” erupted in a rather large fart. >BROOMP!!<. The Doctor blushed. “Sorry,” she said simply.

 

“Hey, it’s fine, we all do it,” Graham assured her. But, at that moment he smelled it, and realised something. It didn’t smell like a normal fart, alien gas or not. Graham got suspicious about whether the Doctor might need to poo. Considering the likely fact that the Doctor might be shy about it, he decided to wait, and help her later. 

 

As they were walking out of the diner, Graham impulsively moaned about not having eaten yet today. 

 

“No time, Graham!” the Doctor chastised kindly. As soon as she said “no time” her stomach intervened to argue. Her sphincter muscles gave off a lot of pain, to remind her what they were holding back. She bent forward holding her hips, and clenching.

“Ow. Aw, seriously, now?!” the Doctor whined at her stomach.

 

Graham saw the pain, and decided to help.

 

“Doctor, do you need the loo?” He asked bluntly. 

 

“Perhaps,” the Doctor answered. She knew lying wasn’t an option, since all three of her friends just saw her, clearly hurt.

 

“Why don’t you go back in, and go there?” Yaz suggested.

 

“I can’t. They just threw all three of us out. I may be white, but to them, I’m still the freak that hangs around a ‘negro’, “ the Doctor shook her head in disdain of the word she just had to use. 


“Besides, I can’t just.. poo ..anywhere. I’m an alien, 1950s Americans can’t find alien waste products yet,” the Doctor informed them.

 

“Well, then let’s get back to the TARDIS,” Yaz stated. They all agreed and began hurriedly walking there, the Doctor lagging back, clenching her bottom the whole way. 

 

Another, larger spasm in her anus, sent the Doctor to the floor, sitting with her legs under her, tightly. 

 

“Ah, can’t move. Can’t move!” the Doctor exclaimed, with worry.

 

“Don’t you have a cleanup setting on your lighty-up swiss knife?” Graham wondered.

 

“No, but if I ever get magic pockets in this coat, I’ll definitely put a pocket toilet in there,” the Doctor remarked. Then, she remembered. Pocket toilet . A fellow Doctor, Martha Jones, had used that word around a useful tool she had. Fumbling through her pockets, the Doctor breathed a sigh of relief as the Pod emerged in her hand. 

 

“Bingo! The Disposal Pod!” she cheered. 

 

“Is that a giant potty?” Yaz asked in confusion. 

 

“NO. It’s a device my people used to use for long negotiations. They were basically senators,” the Doctor retold, about the Time Lords. 

 

“It transports waste products to the TARDIS waste tank. Basically, it’s a pocket toilet,” she stated, surrendering to Martha’s nickname.

 

“So you’re going to be able to use that?” Graham asked, intrigued.

 

“Yes. If I can only find an alley,” the Doctor said, before finding said alley. She took out her perception filter necklace, and put down the pod, far enough away from the opening of the alley. 

 

“Now, you’re about to feel as if you can’t look at the alley, but don’t freak out that’s just this thing,” she stated, pointing at the necklace. She quickly motioned for them to turn around, which they did. The Doctor then put on the necklace, pushed a button on the pod to activate a small seat, which thankfully fit her current body, pulled down her trousers and pants and sat down. With just a small push, a relieving lump of poo popped out. A few more pushes got the rest out. A small compartment stored wet wipes, which she used, before getting up, washing her hands and stowing away the pod. 

 

“Boy, did that feel good. Much better now,” she muttered to herself happily. 

 

“You can turn around now,” the Doctor stated to her friends as she walked out of the alley. 

“Where’d the pod go?” Ryan asked, curiously. 

 

“Put it back in my pocket. Forgot they were bigger on the inside!” the Doctor remarked, as if it was the most normal fact you could say about pockets.

 

“Feel better now?” Yaz asked kindly. 

 

“Much better. I’ll definitely have to listen to my TARDIS more from now on,” the Doctor noted with raised eyebrows. 

 

“That’s what the fight was about..yeah, I can see why robots would want to fight with us in literally every sci-fi film,” Yaz remarked, kindly nudging the Doctor’s shoulder with a pointedly look.

 

With a nod, the Doctor ended the conversation, which changed to finding Rosa Parks. 

 

The End.

Chapter Text

The Doctor entered the posh London flat, shaking hands with Elon. He was very excited to hear what new space-y tech Musk was working on. 


“Go on, have a seat,” Elon invited. Both the Doctor and Kate Stewart sat down on the comfy divan. Only, when the Doctor did, he got a sensation. Slight pressure as well as discomfort, as his colon was not sufficiently supported by the semi-soft cushion. He half-frowned, as subtly as possible. This moment, sitting in a room with the greatest entrepreneur of the 21st Century, was not a good time for the Doctor to need to poo. And yet, that’s exactly what was happening.

 

In the beginning, the Doctor found it easy to listen to both Kate and Elon discuss the partnership between SpaceX and UNIT, and thoroughly ignore the continuing pressure in his bottom. It was when he shifted slightly, and put his legs closer to the couch, that Kate turned to look at him. She raised an eyebrow at him, to ask if he was alright. The Doctor simply looked away from her and turned back to face Elon again. This reaction spoke for itself. 

 

The conversation ended, and Elon stood up, getting ready to go back to headquarters with them. The Doctor hesitated to get up, as he needed to apply some extra pressure against the impatient poop inside him, and clench. He kept clenching as he stood up. Kate saw it clearly, and realized what was wrong. She frowned in concern, but didn’t say anything. They had never been to his house before, so not wanting to ask the mind behind the Tesla to borrow his facilities made sense, at least in regards to the Doctor. On the way, Elon Musk had them stop at a petrol station as he needed the loo. Kate noticed the Doctor remained seated. 

 

“Doctor?” Kate hinted at the Doctor expectantly. He feigned ignorance as to what she was referring to.

 

“Aren’t you getting out?” she asked, clarifying(unnecessarily)

 

“No, I’m good,” the Doctor lied.

 

“Oh, really? Then tell me, how exactly does restraining all muscles in your buttocks help concentration?” Kate questioned with scepticism.

 

“It doesn’t. It is, however, crucial in preserving one’s dignity when a genius billionaire philanthropist is less than 500 metres away !!” The Doctor rebutted exasperatedly, defending his choice, and at the same time admitting to his need in the privacy of the Elon Musk-less car. Kate rolled her eyes and dropped the argument. 10 minutes of further clenching later, they arrived back at UNIT HQ. 

 

The Doctor showed Elon around, with his hands intertwined on his back, providing necessary support…

 

While Elon talked to some other UNIT officers, Kate listening adeptly, the Doctor needed to sit down, so he did. On a lounge chair that allowed him to sit cross-legged, with both feet under his bum. Seeing this, Kate discreetly removed herself from the conversation, and approached the stubborn self-constipating Time Lord.

 

“Why don’t you go to the loo? Elon’s not looking at you, he’s preoccupied over there,” she reminded him.

 

“He’s still here, and thus, will notice if I leave the room,” the Doctor pointed out. 

 

“And why would that matter? He doesn’t know anything about your alien-ness that would make him believe you don’t go to the toilet,” Kate assured him, looking at him strictly, instructing him to get up and go. 

 

“I’m 900 years old. Old enough to hold it in without soiling myself like a child,” the Doctor snarled, looking away indignantly. Kate, on the other hand, was done with his “superior biology” antics. Pulling up her sleeves to her elbows, she grabbed the Doctor below his arms and yanked him out of the chair. Pushing him toward the hallway, she put one arm on his shoulder and countered his earlier remark: 

 

“But apparently not old enough to listen to your body, and go when you should!” she barked at him. Pushing him again, Kate put one hand on his back, forcing him to follow her down the corridor. 

 

“My father warned me, that you might try endangering your excretory system, for the sake of pride. I assure you, while he let you do it once or twice, I will allow it zero times,” Kate stated.

 

She stopped in front of the toilet, blocking the Doctor from running back. She pointed inside the room.

 

“There’s only one way you’re going, Doctor. In there to poo,” Kate instructed, giving him a look that showed that she was serious. The Doctor blushed wildly, and then walked obediently into the loo. He heard her leaning next to the door, so he knew he couldn’t wait it out, and pretend to go. Sighing in resignation, he walked over to the toilet. He unbuckled his trousers, pulled them down with his pants, and sat down. He began pushing out the poo. The Doctor smiled in relief as the first log was released. A couple of more pushes got all of it out of him, making him feel wonderfully empty and light. Wiping thoroughly twice, he pulled up his trousers, flushed and washed his hands. With a slight blush on his face, he opened the door and stepped out. He smiled awkwardly at Kate. 

 

“Better?” she asked him kindly, much happier with him, now that he had dealt with his “embarrassing” issue. 

 

“Yeah, I feel much better now, thanks,” the Doctor replied in gratitude. She smirked smugly, before smiling widely with amusement and patting him on the back. They walked back to Elon Musk.

 

“Oh, there you are! Got your stomach sorted?” Elon asked casually. The Doctor flushed red in embarrassment. Apparently, he had known

 

“Yeah,” the Doctor said simply, rubbing the back of his head, then clearing his throat to change the topic. 

 

The End.

Chapter Text

The Doctor and Rose were happy to be offered a ride back to the TARDIS. Especially since he had naturally forgotten where it was taken, despite Rose insisting someone told him, multiple times. 

 

He rolled his eyes as an automatic response, when he sat down in the backseat of the UNIT van, and felt a small tickle in his “dancing” area, signifying that his bladder was beginning to fill up. 

 

You have got to be kidding me ,’ the Doctor thought to himself in frustration. He regretted not using the loo in the cabinet room. While he had a point about it being embarrassing, with a member of parliament being there, she was a relatively obscure member, at least until she becomes Prime Minister. 

 

His bladder turned out not to be the only part of his body that the Doctor had ignored, as his stomach rumbled in a way that indicated gas. 

 

He turned to Rose, cheeks twice as pink as when Jackie slapped her. “Rose, would you mind if..” the second of hesitation led to the lieutenant assigned to protect them, sitting in the front seat, finishing the sentence for him.

 

“If you fart, now we’re done saving the world?” Lieutenant Mace said, using similar wording as the Doctor used against the Slitheen Prime Minister in front of him and the other UNIT officers.

 

“I’d say she won’t, this car’s got air conditioning,” he assured the Doctor, turning on the air conditioning.

 

With that, the Doctor chose, in a moment of discomfort, to let it out. It was loud and smelled nothing like bananas. Rose started laughing. 

 

“Wow, you really weren’t kidding when you said you were full of air. Keep holding ‘em in, you’ll end up with a silent-but-deadly,” Rose warned. 

 

“I’ve already smelled one from a Slitheen, it wasn’t pretty. You should follow her advice, Doctor,” Mace remarked. This sent the Doctor keeling over with laughter, as he actually wasn’t referring to a silent-but-deadly fart. He nodded, and the others dropped the topic of Time Lord flatulence.


 

 

When they reached a small pile-up on the motorway, the Doctor shifted in his seat, looking out of the window to get an estimate of when it would open up. Seemed like a while, so he leaned back, looking through the fibreglass roof of the car. 

 

Rose noticed the movement. He had been shifting three times in the last 15 minutes.

 

“You alright?” she asked with slight concern.

 

“What sort of question is that, ‘am I alright?’, I survived an electric shock from a Slitheen and blew up Parliament, I think I can manage a car ride with UNIT a second time. Yes, I’m alright, better than alright. I’m Fantastic ,” the Doctor answered snarkily, wriggling once more. He tilted his legs diagonally, sitting almost like the queen, crossing his legs at his heels.

 

 “Just wondering ´cause.. you didn’t wriggle this much during our first ride with them,” Rose noted. 

 

Deciding to answer, the Doctor put up the privacy screen between him and Mace, and the driver. 

 

“Well, I didn’t have as much fluid in the balloon known as my bladder , at that first ride with them,” the Doctor explained. Rose smiled in understanding. 

 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure traffic clears up soon,” she assured him, stroking his leg just above the knee, to calm him. It did help. 

 

After a few minutes of the Doctor squeezing his crotch whenever Rose looked away, the Doctor felt the pressure in his butt return, and attempted to release another fart, this time towards the window, further away from Rose. That’s when he realized it wasn’t a fart. It was something else, worse. With wide, confused eyes, he calculated the days. The last time he’d had a wee was in Cardiff, after having tea. While the last time he did his business was right after meeting Rose, as his abdomen was still rattled from being held tightly by the two Autons below London Eye. Which meant that the need was punctual in its arrival. It had been five days. And three days for his bladder. 

 

The Doctor attempted to inconspicuously apply pressure, by putting his hands below his upper thighs, pushing the lower part of his anal muscles together. 


“What are you doing?” Rose asked, befuddled. 

 

“Remember what I said about the significance of 3 days?” he asked, too preoccupied with the inner panic of needing to poo while stuck in traffic, to bother with a lie. Rose nodded.

 

“Well, it’s also been 5,” the Doctor explained.

 

Rose, imagining how smelly the car could become if the Doctor were to shit himself, brought down the privacy screen to ask the driver for an ETA. The number he gave them was 29 minutes. 

 

Rose looked over at the Doctor, who at this point had taken off one shoe, put one leg under his bottom and had the other leg squeezed tightly next to it, blocking eventual leaks of urine. 

 


 

Rose decided to at least help the Doctor resolve one of his bodily needs. She found an empty plastic bottle and showed it to him.


“This big enough?” she asked, unfamiliar with his bladder capacity. 

 

“What?” he said, looking at the bottle. She pointed it at his crotch.

 

“WHAT?!” the Doctor said, not believing Rose was suggesting he urinate in a small container in a car with strangers. Rose looked at him insistingly. 

 

“Alright fine. Yeah, it should fit,” the Doctor muttered in annoyance at himself having to accept this emergency solution.

 

Rose asked Mace to turn on the radio, which he obliged after spotting the bottle. He also instinctively put up the privacy screen again. 

 

After Rose turned around, as her contribution to the illusion of privacy, the Doctor unbuckled his belt and unscrewed the lid on the bottle. 

 

He pulled himself out, aimed and began peeing into the bottle. Halfway through, he moaned in relief, making Rose chuckle silently. As he pushed out the last few drops, the Doctor felt a juicy fart emerge. It didn’t take a 900-year-old alien to know that it wasn’t just a fart.. Nevertheless, he zipped himself back up, and patted the back of his trousers to confirm, sighing at the result.

 

“Feel better?” Rose asked, as she turned to look at the quite embarrassed Time Lord, fully blushing, and averting his gaze away from her. 

 

“Yeah, Fantastic,” he muttered, smirking satisfactory while looking at her with one eye. 


“Though, when we get back, I’ll need to swap out these boxers,” the Doctor admitted. Rose shot him a sympathetic wince, as she had heard the shart, and chose not to mention it as her first comment, after he wee’d. 

 

The Doctor made it to the toilet in the TARDIS on time, got another round of relief, then promptly wiped himself with wet wipes, and as planned, ditched the underpants. Neither issue taking place in the car was ever mentioned again. 

 

********************

After all, the Doctor may be an alien, but he still eats and drinks. And what eats, poops. What drinks, pees. Almost all living creatures in the universe need the loo. Which isn’t always as easy, especially when you’ve got all of time and space as your pastime. 

 

The End.

Chapter Text

Theta stepped carefully out of the TARDIS. He saw that had landed in a field of grass. He smelled it. It smelled less burnt than the red kind back home. Scanning it with his screwdriver, he identified it as Earth grass. 

 

A man with a ponytail approached him. 

 

“Hey, kid. Are you lost?” he asked. 

 

“Hopefully,” Theta answered cheerfully.

 

“What’s with the box?” the man asked, pointing at the TARDIS.

 

Theta turned around to see what it had imitated. It looked like a big white square box. 

 

“Long story. Who are you?” he asked the man

 

“Edward Jenner. I’m a Doctor,” Jenner introduced himself. 

 

“What does a Doctor do?” Theta asked curiously. 

 

“They help people who aren’t feeling well,” dr Jenner explained.

 

“Brilliant. I’m Theta,”

 

“Where are your parents?” Jenner asked Theta.

 

“At work. I’ve got a free period from school. Nice barn,” the boy lied, complimenting the farm. 

 

Trusting the child to be safe on his own, as he looked about 10 years old, the doctor showed The Doctor his medicine lab. The Doctor was captivated by the mix of primitive and breakthrough technology. 

While he was admiring the microscope with the vaccine culture in it, the Doctor bounced from side to side. 

 

Bugger.. the Doctor thought to himself, annoyed at the need ambushing him on his first ride on his own. He didn’t want to have to tell Dr Jenner. They’d only just met, and he was perfectly content looking around a while longer.

 

“So, what does that red stuff do?” the Doctor asked the doctor, pointing at the microscope.

 

“It’s a small sample of a mild disease.I’m going to mix it with some medicine, and make a vaccine to prevent people getting a more dangerous, related disease,” Jenner explained. 

 

The Doctor hopped in fascination, and to treat his tickling sphincter muscles. He didn’t notice, but he was doing a very obvious, age-appropriate jiggle with his legs, the kind that any parent(including Jenner himself) can recognize. dr Jenner raised his eyebrows slightly as he noticed the boy in front of him, clearly at the mercy of his bladder.

 

“Oh, Theta, do you need to go to the toilet?” Jenner asked kindly, confirming his fairly plausible theory..

 

“No,” the Doctor lied, stilling his movement. This made him reflexively hold himself with both hands.

 

“So, there’s a different, completely reasonable explanation for why you’re squeezing yourself down there?” Jenner mockingly asked, playing along with the boy’s endearing attempt at feigning normalcy. The Doctor said nothing. 

 

Dr Jenner chuckled mildly, understanding. “Come on Thete, I’ll show you where it is,” he gently guided the Doctor out of the lab/barn, with one hand on the boy’s shoulder. The slightly blushing Time Lord, entered the farmhouse bathroom gratefully. He was pleased to see foot-stools were provided for children on this planet, like back home. The Doctor moved the stool in front of the toilet, stepped on it and unbuttoned himself. Pushing his trousers halfway down his behind , he aimed and let go. The Doctor could hear the Doctor sighing in relief, waiting right outside. 

 

“Golly, boy! How much did you drink?” Jenner asked, as the Doctor had spent an almost non-human amount of time in there. 

 

“I’d say it’s more an issue of how long I waited. I shall endeavour to get more accustomed to peeing in fields,” the Doctor remarked, walking plainly back to the lab. Jenner shook his head in disbelief of Theta’s vocabulary but nevertheless, followed him. 

 

And that, is the story of a Doctor helping the Doctor become a Doctor.

Chapter Text

“How old were you when you ran away?” Rose asked the Doctor, who was updating the door locks on the TARDIS. 

 

“112,” he answered, as if it was supposed to be relevant information to an Earth girl.

 

“In human years please,” she requested.

 

“About 10. Just after the Academy,” the Doctor explained. 

 

“That’s really young. How were you not bored? I reckon the TARDIS looked a bit more basic than it does now..” Rose guessed correctly. The Doctor nodded. 

 

“I had a room for that,” he stated with a small smile, then made an excuse about needing to tinker with the console some more. The aforementioned room was..a bit embarrassing, in retrospect. 

 

“Can you show me?” Rose requested. It wasn’t often she got knowledge about the Doctor’s past, besides the fact he blew up his home. 

 

With a sigh and pushing a few final buttons, the Doctor led Rose down the long, winding, hallways of the TARDIS. He opened a room with a moon and some stars on the door. Inside, to Rose’s adoration, was a playroom.

 

“Aww, so you weren’t that different from human children,” she noted. There was a train set, a trampoline, a reading corner with teddy bears, a sleeping mat presumably for naps and some scattered drawings of circles. 

 

“No. I had many hours of fun in this room,” the Doctor noted, nostalgically. 

 

“Hold on. Why do I feel like my brain is trying to read something in those drawings, but can’t?” Rose asked. The Doctor’s eyes widened anxiously. 

 

“Oh, the translation circuit sometimes gets confused, it’s an old ship,” he lied. 

 

“They’re letters, aren’t they? Your people’s language,” Rose noticed how the circles were on every page, surrounded my zero other shapes. 

 

“Old High Gallifreyan,” the Doctor admitted quietly. He laughed sadly as he studied the pages. 

 

“Why isn’t it translating?” she pondered. The Doctor shot Rose a brief sideways glance, but then gave a dismissive shrug.

 

“Doctor?” Rose pressed further. The Doctor sighed.

 

“Because I told her not to,” he confessed.

 

“Why don’t you want anyone to read it?” 

 

“I showed you the library right?” the Doctor double-checked. Rose nodded. “Among the many golden-decorated books I told you not to touch, are several which mention me by name.” Rose frowned. The Doctor had suddenly adopted a very serious expression. “..my REAL..name,” he explained. 

 

“And you don’t want anyone to know it?” Rose guessed, understanding now. The Doctor nodded curtly. Rose stroked his shoulder and changed the subject.

 

A while later Rose got up to get something to drink. It reminded the Doctor, that it had been a while since he had gone to the loo, so he got up and strode after her, but purely by coincidence, the door slammed shut after Rose. The second the Doctor tried opening the door, it made a noise. Like a calculating tick of a computer, and then.. click! It was locked. 

 

“Rose! Rose, it’s locked!” he called out nervously. 

 

“How did that happen? I thought you fixed the locks,” Rose mentioned. 

 

“That’s the problem. The update just finished, which means that all doors have been automatically locked from the outside. It’s normally fine, ‘cause usually I would just open it, but you can’t, it’s set to open on my handprint,” the Doctor explained, slapping himself internally. 

 

Rose announced that she had an idea, but ran off before the Doctor could ask what it was. 

 

His curiosity was quickly forgotten in favour of a different emotion. Discomfort. The Doctor shifted his weight from foot, eventually doing a small hop. In his need to move around, he began pacing around the room. He looked at the train, only to avert his gaze, as a small waterfall inside the fake mountain, gushed water onto a miniature train cart which tipped the water into a hole in the train set, which presumably reloaded the waterfall mechanism. 

 

Very much not the kind of imagery he was looking for. Various dance moves and martial arts demonstrations followed, as the Time Lord attempted to stifle his squiggly sphincter muscles. Whilst jumping rope, Rose knocked on the door. 

 

“Doctor? I found a book that mentions ‘the Doctor’,” she informed him. 

 

“You did WHAT?” the Doctor exclaimed in surprise. Said surprise made him swing the rope in such a way that brought him to the floor, legs overly separated. He squeezed his legs closely together like a pretzel, grunting.

“I know, I’m sorry, but I think the only way for me to open this door is to either say or think your name,” Rose suggested. 

 

“Yeah,” the Doctor agreed, tensely. Rose got worried at the sound of her friend’s strained voice. 

 

“Are you alright in there?” she asked. 

 

“Not exactly,” the Doctor admitted. “Managing,” he added quickly. 

 

“Managing what? What’s wrong?” Rose asked, concerned.

 

“I..er, just..,” he mumbled. 

 

“It’s just..” he hesitated. With a blush, he added, “I quite badly need the loo, Rose,”. She smiled in amused sympathy, relieved that he wasn't hurt, just needed to pee.

 

“Isn’t there an ensuite toilet in there or something? You were only ten years old, and knowing you..” Rose hypothesized.

 

“Time Lord biology works slower. Back then, my bladder would be strong enough to contain urine for 1,5-2 days. I would’ve left the room periodically, well in time to use one of the other toilets,” the Doctor explained, disproving her.

 

“Just hang in there,” Rose comforted, before requesting instructions on changing the translation circuit. 

 

The Doctor followed Rose’s advice by looking for every single possible receptacle he could possibly pee in. Whilst turning over the train set, he accidentally poured all the water out of it. It was only a second-long gush on the carpet, but enough to make the Doctor’s bladder release. And as he had his legs apart during this “investigation”, there was no way of stopping it. The Doctor felt himself start to go

 

“Oh, no no no no no no NO!” he commanded his bladder strictly, grabbing on with both hands, in a death grip. Eventually, it stopped, but he could feel his trousers were significantly wetter. 

 

the Doctor began jumping up and down on a trampoline as a last-ditch effort, whining with panic.


Feeling himself about to leak again, the Doctor hurriedly threw the sleeping mat across the room, got in position and proceeded to pee on the rug. He preferred this to his trousers. Once he was finished, he looked down on himself. He had been correct. A considerable wet spot existed on his trousers, reaching all the way to his pockets, about the size of his hand. 

 

Hearing Rose’s footsteps, the Doctor hurriedly stuffed the corners of a blanket into his trousers, allowing the blanket to hide the spot. 


“Ready?” Rose asked carefully holding the book. 


“Ready.” The Doctor answered. Wet slacks or not, he wanted to get out of there. Hygienically speaking, he needed to

 

Rose flipped to the page that said Doctor, and followed the letters, that now looked like ordinary Latin letters. She stopped, almost forgetting to breathe. After the words “renegade”, “Moment”, and “ran away,” was a name. What she knew, was HIS name. It was long, so alien..and so beautiful. With a long inhale, she attempted to pronounce it. It sounded like a song . The most beautiful melody. With a click, the door unlocked, and Rose opened it. In front of her, was neither the Doctor she had left in there, nor the image of a tied-up calf she saw in her mind, judging by his grunting and rope-like noises earlier. The Doctor was wearing a sort of towel, secured to his trousers by its ends, which were stuffed inside said trousers. 

 

“Why are you wearing a blanket?” she asked him with a blank expression on her face. While the Doctor mumbled incoherently, saying “weell..” and “you see..” in-between, Rose decided to check it out by removing it. With a swift tug, she yanked it away. 


“Don’t,” the Doctor protested, but the piece of fabric was already on the floor. Rose’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of the Doctor’s trousers. She could very clearly see the wet spot. 

 

“Oh,” she remarked, an understanding grin spreading to her kind eyes.

 

Rose couldn’t help chuckling slightly at the red-faced Time Lord. 

 

“Blimey, you weren’t kidding when you said you had to go badly ..” she noted. 

 

“No, I wasn’t,” the Doctor rose his eyebrows in confirmation. 

 

“What’s that smell..” Rose frowned, walking into the room towards the odour. In the corner, she found yet another piece of evidence of the Doctor’s desperation. A big blue puddle, which was undeniably the rest of his urine. 

 

“Well, at least you sort of made it,” she remarked, stroking the Doctor’s shoulder sympathetically. 

 

“Could’ve been worse” he agreed, drawing in a quick breath of regret. They both stepped out of the room, leaving the TARDIS to fix the mess. The Doctor instantly ran to the bathroom, took a quick shower and changed his clothes. Neither of them mentioned the aftermath of him being locked in the room, sparing him some pride, helped by the fact that Doctor would never enter a room from that day forward, without double-checking his bladder..

Chapter Text

This is about the moment that leads to the Doctor making a TARDIS key, to summon the TARDIS from whenever and wherever you are. 

 

He threw away the Harlequin mask with a slight whine.

 

“How, in the name of Woodrow Wilson do people in this era find this garb amusing?” he thought to himself in frustration. 

 

The Doctor decided to cheer himself up for the torture of wearing his “clown” outfit by taking a nice bath. 

 

As soon as he stepped into the bathroom, his bladder sprung into action. The Doctor chose to ignore it. 

 

I’ll need to check the toilet before using it, make sure it can handle alien waste.. He reasoned, and undressed. Doing a little dance at the sound of the tap, the Doctor stepped into the nice warm tub. He was glad that Time Lords are colder than humans, so warm water doesn’t immediately increase the urge to urinate. 

 

While he was drying off, the Doctor heard a noise. Someone entered the room, and appeared to rustle around near where his costume was. 

 

“If you’re trying to sabotage my night, stealing those is quite unnecessary. I don’t plan on wearing all of it, just take anything but the mask please,” he addressed the intruder, grabbing a towel. The man muttered something in an alien language, and according to the Doctor’s ears, was opening a door in the wall of his room. 

 

For no other reason than pure curiosity, the Doctor put on a dressing gown and sprinted after the man into the small corridor. He was more than a little disappointed when the secret door shut behind him. More so, when the man disappeared from view. The Doctor attempted to follow the sound of footsteps, but soon lost track of that too. Then, all of sudden, the multiple hallways surrounding the Doctor seemed to have shrunk, with a random number of them closed by hatches, leaving the Doctor’s probability of finding his room up to pure chance.

 

Suddenly, he thought he heard his sonic screwdriver buzzing in his pocket, and so followed the noise, assuming it would lead him to his room. But instead what he found was the sound of a hairdryer and an air vent in the floor. Stepping on it, a gust of cold air permeated through the Doctor’s naked body. With a shiver, he jumped off it instinctively, jiggling his legs. The cold had woken up his previously warm and content bladder, which was getting quite done with containment .

 

‘Oh, to heck with finding my room, I need a toilet more,’ he thought with a whimper. 

 

On the other side of the secret door, Nyssa perked her ear like a beagle. But the high pitched noise stopped. 

 

“I could’ve sworn I heard a hummingbird,” she remarked in confusion. A particularly rough pull with the hairbrush led to a wad of wet hair landing on the back of her hand. With a grunt, she stepped into the bathroom to wash her hands. 

 

Both in part due to his plan, of sneaking into this room’s ensuite bathroom, no longer being an option, and due to the sound of the tap invoking a slight dance inside the corridor, the Doctor quickly scuttered off, further down the corridor. 

 

After a while of walking with his hand clutched in the lower part of his dressing gown, the Doctor(unknowingly) reached Tegan’s room. 

 

Tegan was doing her nails and humming Waltzing Matilda. 

“I should put on some makeup, or they’ll give me a Harlequin mask,” Tegan decided, walking towards the bathroom.

 

Fanning his legs in and out with desperation, the Doctor muttered somewhat quietly: “No, don’t go in there, please don’t go in there,” he begged to absolutely no one. Or, so he thought..

 

“Doctor?” Tegan asked, turning around. But the Doctor wasn’t in the room. 

 

“Where are you? You better not be on my bed, ´cause that really isn’t funny,” she warned, checking behind her bed’s curtains. The Doctor was not there either. 

 

“I’m in here,” the Doctor informed her from his incidental hiding place. 

 

Tegan tapped on the wall but couldn’t open the door. 

 

“A secret compartment!” she realized. “How’d you manage to get stuck in there?” she asked. 

 

“I was chasing a suspicious intruder,” the Doctor explained.

 

“I don’t know why, but the hallways in here are designed so intricately, you need insider knowledge from, at a guess, Lord Cranleigh,” he theorized.

 

Tegan was about to ask about Cranleigh’s possible reason for building this in his home, but then remembered what the Doctor had been muttering.

 

“Why didn’t you want me to go into the bathroom?” Tegan questioned. 

 

“When did I say that?” he replied, feigning innocence.

 

“I heard you muttering it. I’m a stewardess, trained to hear low-volume speech behind metal doors,” Tegan reminded the Doctor.

 

“I don’t remember muttering anything,” the Doctor lied. 

 

“You can’t tell me you forget things minutes after you’ve said them,” Tegan stated her scepticism.

 

“I don’t know what to say, that’s what’s going on,” the Doctor argued. 

 

“No, that’s not what’s going on, and if you want my help in getting you out, you’re going to tell me the truth,” she demanded strictly. 

 

If there had been a single window between the two, it would’ve shown a thoroughly blushing Time Lord. 

 

“I’m in my dressing gown, Tegan. It’s freezing,” the Doctor stated. It was almost true, as the level of clothing was cold, but that would not be problematic if not for how the muscles around his.. celery were reacting to it. 

 

The Doctor absentmindedly wondered if celery could be used to increase bladder capacity.

 

“Why are you only in your dressing gown?” Tegan got curious.

 

“I just had a bath,” he explained. 

 

This reminded Tegan of a fact the Doctor had told her about his species. He had stated that the base temperature of a Time Lord was an average 15 degrees, more than half that of a human. 


“Wait, with your body temperature, the water should’ve heated you up sufficiently. So how are you freezing? ” she questioned.

 

“There was a very violent vent in the floor,” the Doctor stated.

 

“So? It couldn’t be that much colder than you,” Tegan pointed out. 

 

“Tell that to my sphincter muscles,” he spat out in frustration. 

 

Despite the medical terminology, it was enough to make Tegan realize exactly what the Doctor’s problem was. 

 

“You have to pee, don’t you?” she asked, with kind amusement.

 

“Yes,” the Doctor admitted awkwardly. 

 

“Alright stand back, I’ll get you out,” Tegan advised. The Doctor blindly obeyed. 

 

With a rather large bang, the metal door turned bulky under the force of Tegan’s foot. It was also now open enough for the Doctor to crawl through, into Tegan’s room. 

 

“Thank you very much indeed, Tegan” the Doctor stated, gratefully. 

 

“No sweat, I hoped my tae kwon do lessons would come in use. This is much better than drunk passengers,” she remarked. 


“Now, you go on ahead, I need to let my nails dry anyway,” Tegan invited, grabbing her finger separators, and pointing at the bathroom door with her free hand. 

 

Nodding, the Doctor stepped quickly into the bathroom, closing the door politely. 

 

If he had been in his room, he would’ve spared a moment to check the plumbing, but his almost crossed legs signified a lack of free moments. So he just untied his robe, lifted the seat, and aimed at the toilet bowl, letting go. 

 

Several highly relieving minutes of urination followed. 

 

The Doctor was about to walk out of Tegan’s room to find his own, but she stopped him. 

 

“Before you leave, riddle me this: why didn’t you wee before your bath?” Tegan interrogated mischievously. 

 

“It would’ve required some inspection with my sonic screwdriver to check that it could handle my urine. I wanted to have my bath first,” he explained. 

 

“That’s the wrong order, mate. You’re supposed to get clean in a bath. Using the loo spreads germs around your private areas. Quite inefficient if you ask me,” Tegan advised. 

 

“Yes. I think you have a point there, Tegan. Bladder relief, before stress relief,” the Doctor remarked in agreement, before swaggering out of the room. It was as he was closing the door, that Tegan burst out laughing as she noticed it; The Doctor’s dressing gown was still wide open.

 

The End.

Chapter Text

The Doctor didn’t like lying. Except when it got him out of hospitals. Or inside places. Or in this case, it got his companions out of the way, so he could talk to his friend. Now, this friendship was one neither the Doctor nor his friend would ever admit to. Not even to each other. 

 

“Why didn’t you do it?” Davros asked him, once the TARDIS whooshed away. 

 

“You know why,” the Doctor answered, as if the answer was obvious. 

 

“Do you?” he challenged the Doctor. 

 

“It goes against my own code,” the Doctor explained. 


“And where have you written this code of yours?” Davros zinged. 

 

“In my memories. It would take half your life to read, and judging by your face, you’ve already spent the first half,” he countered. 

 

“Watch out, uncle. You’re about to trip on your scarf,” Davros remarked with a smirk.

 

The Doctor looked at the ends of his scarf. Both were stuck underneath him. One slide to either side would lead to a nasty bump on his head. He grabbed both edges with his free hand, the other one pressing the bends of the two electric cords into his crotch. He kept reminding himself, that had his bladder not interfered with his cognitive abilities, he still wouldn’t have blown up all the Daleks. They were human once, after all. And seemed to be scouring their databanks for justification for not killing him, to back up their emotions, which were saying the same thing. 

 

While both the Doctor and the Daleks were in agreement about whether to kill the other, there was one subtle difference in their thoughts. The main one in the Daleks “minds” was one word: Mercy. 

 

While the Doctor was thinking: Oh mercy, I really need the loo. I should’ve sent Sarah Jane and Harry somewhere else, left the TARDIS open..

 

“Yes, Doctor. Mercy. That is the main reason. The one you can’t explain,” Davros interrupted his internal whining. Without realizing, the Doctor had mouthed “Mercy” a couple of times. 

 

“You’re wrong, Davros. That’s the reason I’m lying to myself about. the truth: compassion,” the Doctor corrected. 

 

THE SEC-OND LAR-GEST E-MO-TION? one of the Daleks, interrupted in confusion. 

 

“What are you talking about?” both ancient beings questioned in unison.


THE FIRST BE-ING..NE-CE-SSI-TY, the Dalek stated.

 

“That’s not an emotion,” the Doctor remarked.

 

“But it is a state of being,” Davros commented. “So, you did it because you need something from me,” he gloated at the Time Lord. 

 

The Doctor shifted his eyes from side to side nervously. He realized that the Dalek was, somehow, onto his main motivation. At least, in this one instance. 

 

“Only half-right I’m afraid. I do need something, but intend to get it myself thank you,” the Doctor corrected.

 

The Doctor was in a difficult position. He couldn’t run away, nor could he sit on the floor with his enemy for much longer..

 

DO YOU NEED TO U-RI-NATE? the Dalek double-checked.

 

Davros was speechless. It was not a word he had ever heard his underlings utter. 

 

“Yes, how can you tell?” the Doctor sighed. He was still curious.


YOUR BLA-DDER RE-GIS-TER-S AT 85 PER-CENT CA-PA-CI-TY. ADDI-TION-A-LLY, YOUR SPHINC-TER MU-SCLES ARE DIS-TEN-DED the Dalek reminded him, scientifically. 

 

“If you want, you may use my dear machines’ sewer hole,” Davros offered, seriously, but with a hint of glee. 

 

With a big blush on his face, the Doctor nodded, and silently signalled a request for directions. 

 

FO-LLOW ME. the Dalek led the Doctor away from the room. 

 

Despite being clearly designed for the small round hatches below a Dalek, and for many Daleks to use at once, like an automatic protocol, rather than a natural process, the Doctor had no problems. The issue came when the TARDIS decided to reappear right in front of the hatch, the second the Doctor had zipped up. 

 

The first word out of Sarah Jane was, “Why is your scarf tucked inside your trousers?” 

 

‘Are the holes big enough Doctor?’ Davros cackled in his raspy voice, from down the hall.

 

“What is he talking about, Doctor? What is this room?” Harry asked curiously.

 

The Doctor thought, and then settled on explaining to Sullivan exclusively.


“Well, do you remember when we were searching that field, and I kept pacing?” he hinted. 

 

“Because you had to pee, yes,” Harry stated bluntly. The Doctor winced. No lying to Sarah Jane, then..

 

“Well, this is what the Daleks use instead of that field,” the Doctor explained, humorously. 

 

“Oh, so that’s why you were sitting on your scarf so tightly,” Sarah Jane remarked, remembering the Doctor’s clenched sitting position earlier. 

 

The Doctor nodded simply. 


“You shouldn’t have sent the ship away then. It was available to you this time,” Sullivan noted.

 

“Yes, never doing that again. Doctor,” he assured the other medical professional in the room. 

 

And with that, they left. But don’t worry, the Doctor didn’t forget the second important lesson: Daleks know when he has to pee. And will talk about it.

Chapter Text

The Doctor studied the jar of peanut butter, shaking his head in confusion. It was labelled as full of every type of preservative, additive and sweetener the rest of the galaxy had outlawed centuries ago. He put it back and reached for the healthier alternative on a shelf closer to the floor. 

 

As soon as he had put it in his hand, his stomach growled in slight discomfort. The Doctor felt pressure in his anus, and therefore stood up abruptly, assisting his sphincter muscle with his hand. He frowned. The signal was clear: he needed to poo. The only problem was that he was in a store. He wasn’t sure if such establishments had toilets for customers. Nor did he know where those might be. He stuck his head around the corner of the shelf, trying to peer after an eventual sign, directing him to a loo. At that moment, Donna turned around and noticed the Time Head sticking out of the aisle. 

 

“Doctor? Are you finding the condiments okay?” she asked, assuming that he needed her help.

 

Immediately admitting to Donna in the crowded supermarket was instantly dismissed. 

 

“No! Just checking where you were,” he lied. With a hard clench of his buttcheeks, and a few deep breaths, the Doctor joined Donna with his half of the groceries.

 

The discomfort of his colon continued to plague the Doctor, and thus made him frown once more. Donna noticed and asked if something was wrong. 


“I’m always alright,” he stated simply, his go-to response to worried companions. It wasn’t a lie he usually told Donna , but they were in line with a bunch of strangers, so it was necessary.

 

Donna didn’t believe him entirely, as he had the same look on his face as he did after his future wife, River sacrificed herself in front of him. It said, “I’m not really alright at all”. The Doctor didn’t seem to be in much agony with whatever problem he was having, so she dismissed it for the time being as simple exhaustion. Shopping is a chore for all species. 

 

Not only did the Doctor not say a word during the whole ride to the National Gallery, which was their “reward”, but he kept looking out the window, both as a clear signal that he wasn’t feeling social, and also, for some reason in apparent longing. Donna smiled, as the Time Lord was clearly missing his TARDIS. 

 

He was . By this point extremely.

 

When they left the ticket line, and walked towards all the beautiful paintings, the Doctor’s stomach decided to up the pressure. The Doctor knew, he couldn’t stop it without using his hands in an obvious and revealing way. So he quickly sat down on one of the padded white benches. 

 

Donna noticed that her Spaceman had left her side and turned around. He was sitting in the same hunched over, introverted way he had in the car, earlier. She figured the museum visit would distract him from whatever trouble they would otherwise be getting into in time and space. Especially considering his ship contained a room full of cat paintings. There was a rather adorable ferret in the painting in front of her. Donna walked over to the Doctor and sat next to him, intending to comfort him, in whatever way turned out to be necessary. 

 

“What’s with you today? You’d normally be talking your head off, about stores on strange planets, anything..what’s on your mind, sweetheart?” Donna cooed in concern. 

 

The Doctor felt an immense desire to tell her, so he started an attempt. 

 

“As little as possible,” he remarked tensely. The Doctor clenched his fists in response to the pain. 

 

“Is something hurting?” Donna asked. He nodded. 

 

“Is it your legs, from getting the groceries?” she guessed.

 

“Not exactly,” the Doctor answered with a sigh. Getting closer to the truth made him blush slightly, which was fortunately hidden by small tears that were streaming, due to the strain of holding it in. 

 

“Where?” she asked. The Doctor slowly pointed to his butt. 

 

“Maybe stretching it will help. Come on, let’s look closer at that painting,” Donna suggested.

 

“Oh no,” the Doctor rejected this idea firmly. “I get up, all hell breaks loose,” he stated seriously. 

 

Donna frowned in confusion. Then it hit her. What might break loose upon sitting down for a long enough time.. She put a hand on his shoulder, to make him feel more safe about admitting, what she thought his problem probably was. 

 

“Do you..need to go nr 2?” she asked him quietly, so no one else could hear. 

 

The Doctor blushed even more, now obviously. He nodded with an apologetic expression of awkwardness. 

 

“Sorry, I know I should have told you earlier, at the store,” the Doctor apologized, regretting his decision to keep it from her.

 

“It’s alright, Sainsbury’s toilets are always rubbish, I get it,” Donna assured him stroking his back and smiling in understanding. 

 

“Now, come on, let’s find you a toilet,” she stood up and took the Doctor’s hand, indicating for him to, slowly and carefully , get up and walk to the loo with her. But he remained seated.

 

“Actually, I’d really rather not,” the Doctor insisted with a slight wince. 

 

“What are you talking about?” Donna asked. 

 

“I’d really rather not..do that , here ,” he elaborated.

 

“Oh come on Spaceman, it doesn’t matter. Everyone uses the toilet here, to poo as well. You won’t be the only one,” she attempted to convince him.

 

“We’re in a museum, full of people. You seriously don’t think they’ll notice? I’m an alien, my odds of being noticed defecating is considerably higher than for humans,” the Doctor pointed out. 

 

“Full of people means no one cares about one man. And they won’t know that you’re an alien, everyone’s poo smells weird sometimes. You know, with the places you travel, the stuff you eat, the times I take you places here on earth, you’re gonna need to at least try to get used to going to the loo in public,” Donna implored her Spaceman to see reason.

 

“Alright, it’s not as if the pain will go away while I sit here,” the Doctor agreed, and stood up, quickly putting a hand to his backside. One look straight at Donna and he began to withdraw the hand. But Donna interrupted. “No, it’s ok, use the hand if it helps,” she advised him. He put it back happily, and quickly followed Donna through the museum. Looking around, he found his companion was right. No one noticed the man in the long coat hobbling along with his hand on his bum, quite clearly inches away from shitting himself. 

 

“I’ll be right out here, when you’re done,” Donna promised the Time Lord. 

 

He nodded, and ran confidently into the men’s room. Once inside the stall, the Doctor had a delightfully relieving poo. And again, as Donna had said, he felt no particular issue with performing this activity in a public bathroom. 

 

He washed the salty tears out of his face, and dirty wibbly-wobbly bacteria from his hands, and returned to Donna. 

 

She patted him on the back in compliment for his “courage”. 

 

“I’ve found that you have a point. You should have told me about your issue earlier. Then I could’ve stopped somewhere along the road,” Donna remarked.

“You know, we’re going to be together often, for a really long time, I hope. So you should get used to both public loos and telling me when you need to go. Of course, you can’t always solve that on your own, no one can. That doesn’t mean ignoring it until the TARDIS is the better option. Especially not in the long term. At least think about accepting these two things, okay? For your own good,” Donna requested. 

 

Merely considering the idea of telling such a non-judgemental companion as Donna, and trying to go in public more often, didn’t scare the Doctor one bit. 

 

That , I can certainly do!” The Doctor cheered with resolve. 

 

It wasn’t a promise, simply a statement of his ambitions. 

 

The End.