Chapter 1
Clockwork was hard at work, a set of brass instruments and pieces were arrayed before him and upon his forehead lay a magnifier. The familiar scent of his workshop wafted through the air, it was the scent of grease and oil. All around came the sound of over two dozen clocks ticking at a regular rate, brass hammers striking against brass drums, all working in perfect order.
That was what he was there for of course, fixing clocks, his name said it all.
“Come on now, go in there like a good cog,” he murmured to himself as he tried to squeeze a small cog into the interworking parts.
However, it appeared that the brown stallion was out of luck. The cog flatly refused to be joined with its brothers no matter how he beseeched, prodded, oiled, or even at a particularly low moment, hammered it.
“You know, you’re a very stubborn cog,” the stallion muttered as he pushed a small strand of his neatly trimmed brown mane out of his eyes and gently reached up with his front hooves to remove the magnifier from his head.
He set the rather expensive piece of equipment down and let out a long sigh as he looked over the clock that he’d spent the last three hours painstakingly repairing. It was an ancient piece, that much was obvious. Despite the dark wooden frame being enchanted to last throughout the ages, it was clearly less than it had once been.
The glass case on the front was surrounded by a finely wrought ribbon of gold and below it the numbers had been carved from solid silver. The field upon which those numbers were arrayed resembled the night sky while the hour and minute hands were modeled as fiery flares from a sun which took up the center of the face.
Clockwork still had no idea where the clock had come from, all he did know was that someone had deposited it at his front door that very morning with the words; Please fix to the best of your ability scrawled upon a sheet of parchment in an exceedingly fine script.
There had been no hint of payment, nor of who to return the piece too, but Cockwork (being Clockwork) couldn’t just leave it sitting there begging for his attentions. Besides, he had little else to do, having finished his last order the day before.
“Well... I guess I can come back to you after lunch,” he declared, eying the offending cog as if it had committed a crime of some sort. “Now, stay right there and don’t go running off on me.”
To the casual observer, Clockwork’s statement may have appeared rather... crazy, but it would not be the first time that pieces of a particularly old clock came alive and started tramping about his workroom. That had been an entirely too stressful afternoon and he’d sworn to never accept another order from Pinkie Pie... of course he probably should have anticipated that type of thing happening but still...
“Now, what shall I have for lunch?” he asked himself as he walked into his kitchen, a modern little area containing both a fridge and an oven along with a set of stone counters and a low table.
He eyed the fridge for a moment before smiling, yes that would do, he still had several muffins left.
The stallion smiled to himself as he walked up to the fridge and casually opened it. He glanced around the interior of the fridge for a second or two, eyes looking over the pieces of bread and assorted fruit that were all placed in their proper place. Clockwork was a very neat stallion as befitted his work.
Finally, his eyes came to rest upon a small basket of around six muffins, all specially baked by Pinkie Pie. Even if he’d refused to ever do any work for her, she was still grateful enough for what he had done to make him complimentary muffins every week. Honestly, it made him uncomfortable, but Clockwork had never been one to resist a good sweet.
He withdrew the basket and took a moment to sniff in the exquisite scent of the banana nut muffins along with the slightly darker chocolate chocolate chip. His mouth began to water and he scooped the basket up in his mouth before carrying it over to the table where he set it down. After washing his hooves free of any remaining grease, the stallion took one of the banana nut muffins in his hooves and was about to take a bite into it when there was a sudden... noise followed quickly by what sounded like a loud crash.
Clockwork leapt up from his seat in surprise, the muffin falling to the floor. The stallion glanced at it for a second before shaking his head, he would have to mourn it later, the noise had come from his workshop! With a flurry of hooves Clockwork ran from the kitchen and quickly arrived back in his workshop only to be confronted by something that he’d never seen before.
Sitting there in the center of his industrially neet workshop was... a light blue wooden box with what appeared to be a pair of doors. There was a plaque on the side of it with the words Police Telephone followed by several others below it. Clockwork stared at it, where had it come from? How had it gotten into his workshop? And perhaps most important and distressing of all, had it damaged anything?
However, before Clockwork had a chance to even go about answering any of those questions, the doors of the strange box burst open allowing dark smoke to filter out from within it and into the workshop. The stallion’s eyes widened in surprise at the act and then began to cough into his foreleg as he inhaled the smoke.
Even more surprising, his coughing was joined by another’s.
“I don’t believe this *cough* how did this *cough* even happen?” a bubbly feminine voice demanded.
Oh no, Pinkie Pie has created a way to teleport herself into my workshop, I’m doomed, Clockwork thought to himself as the smoke began to clear.
“Hello? Pinkie Pie, is that you?” he called, smoke still interrupting his vision of who or whatever it was that had emerged from the box.
“Pinkie Pie? What’s a Pinkie Pie?” the feminine voice replied, immediately allaying Clockwork’s mental dread, now that he heard it he could tell that it was definitely not Pinkie. It sounded far too Trotish.
The smoke finished clearing out of his work room, it was well ventilated after all, and Clockwork found himself looking at what was possibly one of the most... non-threatening faces he’d ever seen. It was that of a blonde maned light grey furred mare with a cutie mark of a pattern of bubbles adorning her flank. Her most striking feature however was her eyes, they were both a bright gold, one of which was decidedly off center. She looked simultaneously confused and incredibly curious.
“Now then, where’s Clara?” the pegasus asked with a frown. “Where has that filly run off to?” Then she did a double take. “Wait, did I say filly? I meant filly! Filly? Filly, filly, filly, filly... strange. Mare! Mare, mare, mare, mare, mare, stallion!” she shouted, or perhaps rambled, it was hard for Clockwork to tell at this point. “Drat, I thought that would work, them sounding alike and all...”
“I... um... hello?” Clockwork asked uncertainly.
The mare seemed to ignore him for a moment, instead continuing to babble to herself. “And this... what is this?” she held a hoof up to her face. “Do I have hoooves? I’ve never had hooves before!” Then her wings flapped and an utterly entrapped look overtook her face. “WINGS! I HAVE WINGS!?” A strange look then crossed her face. “Oh my... I don’t think I’ve ever had that before...” she trailed off, staring at her flank. “Huh, bubbles.”
“Ar-are you alright?” Clockwork asked, trying to find a way to knock the mare out of her... shock?
“Alright? Alright? I’m apparently in another universe, with another body, with a completely NEW BODY!” the mare shouted at him, holding her hooves up dramatically, causing her to stumble forwards and land on her face. She then began to laugh as she pushed herself back up onto her hooves and gave Clockwork a wide smile. “Yes, I suppose I’m alright. The new gender is a bit strange though, that’ll take a bit of adjustment.”
Clockwork just stared at her wordlessly, his mouth opening and closing.
“What’s that?” the mare asked as she attempted to walk towards him, only succeeding to crash once again.
“I-who-what- ahh....” the poor stallion simply had no idea what to say about any of this.
“Well, I don’t know what you are other then maybe a pegasus, but I’m the Doctor, I’m a Time Lord, well, Time Lady now, and as for ‘ahh’ I have no idea either,” the pegasus replied with a wide grin on her face. “Isn’t it incredible?”
“I... I’m Clockwork,” Clockwork finally managed to say.
“Clockwork?” the Doctor asked with a frown. “That’s an odd name for a horse.”
“No... no it’s not,” Clockwork replied, his brows furrowing. “And I’m not a horse, I’m a pony.”
“Ah yes, my mistake,” the Doctor said, eyeing him for a moment. “I suppose I should have guessed by the size. You’ll have to forgive me, everything here is very confusing. Like the fact that your sun seems to orbit your planet as does the moon, that’s a very strange thing!”
It’s worse than Pinkie Pie, Clockwork thought to himself. This mare is actually insane.
“I assure you, that’s actually normal,” Clockwork told the Doctor as he backed away from her slightly. “In fact, if you do not mind me saying so, it is you who are strange.”
“Me?” the mare asked, looking down at herself. “Strange?” Then she chuckled and continued walking towards him, her stride getting better with every step. “I suppose I am aren’t I?” She stopped in front of him and grinned. “You wouldn’t by any chance have anything to eat would you?”
“I... I have some muffins,” Clockwork offered, she may have been strange, she may have appeared from within a noisy blue box which had somehow materialized within his work room, and she may have been insane, but she was still a mare.
"Muffins!?” the Doctor asked with wide eyes. “I haven’t had muffins in... how long ago was it now? I think it was with Amy and Rory back in that cafe. Oh how I miss those two.”
Her eyes had taken on a strange... almost ancient look that caused Clockwork to approach her and put a hoof on her shoulder. “Ms... Doctor, are you okay?”
That did it, the mare shook her head and grinned. “Oh yes of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Err... well I had just mentioned muffins and-”
“Ah yes, muffins! Take me to them please!” the bubbly mare said with a wide grin.
Clockwork frowned for a moment, caught by surprise in the emotional whiplash that the Doctor seemed to emit at all times before he gave her a short nod. “Right... follow me then,” he told her, turning and beginning to lead her out of the work room. Unfortunately before they could get very far, the Doctor stumbled in step again and went cartwheeling into one of Clockwork’s shelves.
There was a small rustling noise for a moment before the entire thing collapsed in a cacophony of noise and tumbling parts. Clockwork turned to stare as his neatly sorted and alphabetized parts were strewn about the floor like so many child’s building blocks. Sitting amidst the utter destruction was the Doctor, a very confused look on her face.
“I... I don’t know what went wrong,” the Doctor said in an utterly aghast voice. “I was just walking and then suddenly I was spinning and... oww,” she muttered as she rubbed the back of her head.
Clockwork’s emotions raged through his mind. On the one hoof, the mare was obviously either very confused or very insane and thus needed his help. On the other hoof she’d also just destroyed hours and hours of painstaking work.
“Are... you... alright?” he asked her slowly, his teeth working against each other as he controlled his inner outrage.
“Yes-yes I think so,” the Doctor replied, shaking her head. “This new body of mine is surprisingly durable I think.”
“Good...” Clockwork said as he went over and offered her his hoof. She stared at it.
“What good are you going to do with that?” she inquired, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “It doesn’t have any fingers on it.”
“Fingers?” Clockwork asked as he the word bounced around inside of his head. Ponies had hooves, griffins had talons, dragons had claws, diamond dogs had paws... oh, oh yes, minotaurs had fingers. “No, no I don’t, but why would I need them?”
“Well traditionally you’d use them to pull me to my hooves.... did I just say hooves? I meant hooves! This is very strange,” she said, looking up at him in befuddlement. “I can’t say the word hoof, or hooves, or mare, or filly, or stallion....”
“Umm.... but you’re saying them right now aren’t you?” Clockwork asked in confusion.
“Well I’m saying words but they’re not the right words!” the Doctor explained, sounding a mite bit peeved. “It’s like something in the universe doesn’t like pony words.” She stopped talking and then looked up at the ceiling. “Really? I can’t even say pony here!?”
“Anyways, here,” Clockwork said, deciding that enough was enough and grabbing her front hoof with his own and dragging her to her hooves. “There we go,” he stated.
“How did you do that?” the Doctor asked him as her off kilter eye gazed up at the ceiling. “It breaks the laws of physics! Not that I have much respect for those laws in the first place, or laws in general really, but honestly!”
“I just did it,” Clockwork answered flatly. “Now, would you like the muffins or not?”
“Oh right, the muffins!” the pegasus said eagerly. “Yes, let’s get going shall we?”
“Yeah, sure,” Clockwork replied. “Please... just try not to knock anything else over.”
“I’ll do my best,” the Doctor answered.
“Good,” Clockwork said, turning his back on her once again and finally leading her out of the work room and into the kitchen. Before he had time to so much say a word, the pegasus had leapt over him and landed in one of his chairs, stuffing a chocolate muffin in her mouth in the process.
“This muffin, this muffin, this muffin is incredible!” the Doctor told him, her mouth half full of chocolate muffin.
“Well, Pinkie Pie made them so I’d expect so,” Clockwork replied blandly.
“Pinkie Pie? That’s the second time you’ve mentioned that,” the Doctor said as she finished off her first muffin and reached for a second while Clockwork quickly grabbed one for himself, seeing how fast they were disappearing. “What is it exactly? Some kind of robotic assistant?”
“No... Pinkie Pie is the town baker, she’s an earth pony like me,” Clockwork replied, eying the Doctor weirdly. “What’s a robot?”
“What’s a robot? I thought you were a robot maker what with all those gears and whatsits back in that room,” the Doctor replied with a frown. “Either that or maybe a toy maker, not much difference between the two really. One just makes bigger toys is all.”
“I’m neither,” Clockwork stated. “I’m a clockmaker.”
“A clockmaker named Clockwork?” she asked him incredulously. “What are the odds of that? Wait, don’t tell me, I’ve never liked odds. Odds are all the odds are wrong!”
“It’s actually more common than you’d think,” Clockwork replied, feeling as if this was all some kind of crazy lucid dream that he couldn’t wake up from. “For example, the town’s dentist is named Colgate and the mare who owns the flower shop is named Roseluck.”
“Really now? That’s strange,” the Doctor said with a small frown. “Oh well, always more to learn.” She finished off her fourth, and last, muffin. “Now then... do you have a couch? I’m really very tired, post regeneration rest and all.”
“Are... are you asking to sleep on my couch?” Clockwork asked in befuddled surprise as a slight blush crossed his face.
“Well, a bed will work if you have an extra one but I kind of assumed that you’d probably be more comfortable with me sleeping on a couch,” the Doctor answered, batting her blonde mane out of her eyes.
“I-er yes, I have a couch,” Clockwork stated uneasily. “It’s right through here... Ms. Doctor.”
“Just Doctor, or the Doctor please,” the Doctor stated with a small chuckle. “I’d tell you that you could call me John Hoof, but I... yes, I suppose I’m not allowed to say that either am I?”
“I... don’t know,” Clockwork said, completely at a loss by this point as he got up from the table and began to walk towards the living room.
“Anyways, just call me Doctor,” the Doctor stated.
“Okay,” Clockwork stated, shaking his head slightly, he really had to stop associating with strange mares. Pinkie Pie was one thing, but this ‘Doctor’ was proving to be a real hoofful.
The pair walked into the living room, a modest room of one couch and an easy chair along with a coffee table and a smaller side table with a radio on it. The Doctor took in the whole scene for a moment before leaping over Clockwork once more, wings pumping instinctively... she hit the wall above the couch like a bird hitting a glass door and slid down slowly before plopping down on the couch.
“Oww,” she muttered, rubbing her head once more. “I have no idea how that happened...”
“Maybe it was the part where you hit the wall?” Clockwork asked, falling back on his internal sarcasm to safeguard his sanity. It wasn’t often that it was required of him, but when faced with the impossible there was no defense better than a sharp wit.
The Doctor stared at him for a moment before she began to... giggle. It was an incredibly bubbly sound. “Heheheheh, you’re good! I like you!” she exclaimed before letting out a yawn and stretching out her forelegs. “I think I’m going to sleep now.”
Just like that, she was gone, her eyes closing and her head hitting the soft couch in the blink of an eye. Clockwork stared at her for a moment longer before walking into the hallway and grabbing a blanket and a pillow from the closet. He dutifully spread the blanket over her and carefully maneuvered the pillow under her head, let it not be known that Clockwork forced a mare to sleep without a blanket.
That done, the stallion let out a sigh and turned his back on the mare, heading once more for his workshop. It would take hours to put everything back in its proper place and hopefully in that time he’d figure out what to do about the strange mare sleeping on his couch.