//------------------------------//
// Chapter Eleven: Giddyup 
// Story: Dr. Hooves and the Broken Box 
// by Lyichir 
//------------------------------//


The Doctor sent Derpy out to get breakfast. Even now that they were on friendly terms, he didn’t want to take his eyes off the little Changeling. Don’t want it to get cold feet and try to hide amongst the locals again, he thought to himself. After he had sat there alone for a little while, Golden Harvest sat down next to him.
“So, how are you planning to get the Changeling home?” she asked. “The plan we had come up with involved Written Script teleporting it home.”
The Doctor frowned. “Yes, he told me about that. It’s a bad idea. With how imprecise he made the teleportation spell out to be at those distances, our Changeling could easily end up underground or 500 feet in the air.” He looked up at his surroundings. “It’s easier to just take the TARDIS.”
“What is a Tardis, anyway?” asked Golden Harvest. “I gathered from what you were saying that that’s the name for the box we’re in. But how do we use it to get the Changeling home?”
The Doctor sighed. “Wait and see. It’ll be easier to show off what it can do to all of you than to explain it to you individually.”
“So you’re still not ready to be honest with us, huh?” Golden Harvest glared at him, and it made him feel guilty.
“I’m really sorry. It’ll be ready by this afternoon,” he said. “After that, no more lies. I’m sick of lies.”

Golden Harvest went back over to sit with Written Script after that. She seemed more comfortable with him than she did with the Doctor, even if she did seem to be giving him a hard time. And to his credit, Written Script seemed to have gotten a lot out of this encounter. He had spent most of the time since their confrontation with the Changeling writing furiously in a notebook. He noticed that he held his quill aloft with his unicorn magic. A useful skill to have, to be sure.
He was beginning to worry about Derpy. She had gone for breakfast early in the morning, but now it would be closer to noon, and she still hadn’t gotten back. Perhaps something else had happened, and she had gotten into some kind of trouble, and he wouldn’t be there to help.
He shouldn’t have worried, though. Derpy returned soon afterward with a tray of steaming hot muffins. “Derpy!” exclaimed the Doctor, thankful to see her again. “You shouldn’t have!”
“You made muffins?” asked Golden Harvest, raising an eyebrow at her.
Derpy crossed her forelegs in embarrassment. “Well, the first batch didn’t turn out that great. And neither did the second. And I ate all the muffins in the third batch to make sure they were okay. But they were! And I’m sure these ones are, too!”
Everyone in the room burst out laughing.
“I’m sure they’re fine, Derpy!” said Written Script. “Now give one here! I’m starving!”

The assorted ponies circled around and picked out the muffins they wanted to eat. When they dispersed, the little changeling was the only one left without anything to eat. It looked at the muffins uneasily, then looked up at Derpy. “I’m… sssssorry…” it said, “for what I sssssaid. About you.”
Derpy smiled. “A lot of ponies sometimes say things they don’t mean,” she said, “especially when they’re scared and alone and feel like the world’s out to get them. I forgive you.”
The Changeling was taken aback. “Jussst like that?”
Derpy nodded earnestly. “You didn’t end up hurting anypony in the end, did you?” she asked. “You even freed Scootaloo when you were done pretending to be her. You didn’t have to do that.”
The Changeling’s stomach growled, and it cast its eyes away from Derpy. She picked up a muffin and offered it to the changeling.
“I made these with extra love,” Derpy said with a wink. “Go on, eat up.” For the first time the faintest hint of a smile crossed the Changeling’s face, as it accepted the muffin and walked over to join the others.

Everyone on the TARDIS agreed afterwards that the muffins had been delicious. They were happy now, all of them, even the lonely little changeling who had caused them so much trouble. They had almost forgotten about what they were waiting in there for when the whole TARDIS began to rumble and the lights began to flicker on one by one.
“Fantastic!” exclaimed the Doctor. “Written Script! Give me those charts!”
The purple-maned unicorn handed them over wordlessly, and the Doctor began to rifle through them.
“Ancient… shoddy… Decent, but smudged… Sinusoidal projection, who even uses those?” He finally stopped on one map in particular. “Here! We! Go!”
He moved over to the console with the map he had picked. The other ponies marveled as his hooves flew between the various levers and dials. There was no awkwardness in his motions anymore. Here, he was in his element.
“Okay, I’m going to need you all to hold onto something or someone. I don’t know how well this thing is going to fly in this universe. Is everypony ready?”
The other ponies in the TARDIS nodded. They weren’t all sure what was going on, but they could tell the Doctor did, and they were following his lead, now.
The Doctor turned back toward the console. “All right then!” he said with an enormous smile on his face. He put his hoof on one last lever, the biggest one within reach.
“Giddyup,” he whispered, and he pulled the lever, and they were off.