Music for a Broken Gymnasium

by Alan Taylor

She stood with her hands on her hips, her hair tied into a loose plait and surveyed the damage.

The treadmill had been pushed in to a corner, under an arch that she was sure hadn't been there before. One of the walls had been knocked through into some sort of rifle range. The equipment was all on higher settings than she remembered.

Ace had done this.

Ace had taken the one bit of the TARDIS that was Hers, and changed it forever.

It wasn't home any more.

And she would never put up with Ace calling her Doughnut again.

AUTHOR'S NOTE :
Comments always appreciated