By Simon Guerrier
Health professional Who brief journeys is a sequence of themed brief tale anthologies of recent health practitioner Who fiction, that includes the health care provider in all of his first 8 incarnations. They characteristic tales written through the various top names in medical professional Who, prior and current, together with Paul Cornell, Gareth Roberts, Christopher H. Bidmead, and Paul Magrs. Christmas is the busiest time of 12 months for the mysterious physician, even if he is caught-up within the violence of historical Rome, taking Leonardo da Vinci on a day-trip to the celebrities, or popping in at the first actual Christmas at the moon. Spend Christmas with the physician. if you happen to dare.
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Additional info for Doctor Who Short Trips: The History of Christmas (Big Finish Short Trips)
Example text
He asked. 48 They clambered out of the van to inspect the damage. The night was bitterly cold, the darkness all round affording little comfort. Barbara clutched her arms around herself. The back tyre on her side of the van was gone; just a husk of stinking, burnt rubber trapped around the axle. Ian soon had the van's doors open, rooting around for anything that would help. The stone was still securely held in place by the ropes. Fortunately, there was a spare tyre and jack too. ' said the Doctor, tutting at their relief.
The back tyre on her side of the van was gone; just a husk of stinking, burnt rubber trapped around the axle. Ian soon had the van's doors open, rooting around for anything that would help. The stone was still securely held in place by the ropes. Fortunately, there was a spare tyre and jack too. ' said the Doctor, tutting at their relief. ' 'I guess you'll want me to change the tyre,' said Ian. `Oh, I can manage,' said Barbara, helping herself to the jack. ' The Doctor stood behind Barbara, holding the torch for her.
Something about the man, something gentlemanly, had got to Felix, and without even really noticing he had poured him a cup of the special Falernian from his patron's own vineyard, instead of the usual rotgut. ' asked the stranger. Felix raised three fingers and the coins slipped across the table. And some more. ' Felix raised an eyebrow, nodded, and poured himself a cup. Just a small one. Raising it towards the stranger he grunted. ' Felix, who didn't really care, shrugged. Silence fell once more; but a companionable silence.