A/N: New story! Exciting, yay! So anyway, this sort of has to have a prequel, I guess. When I'll write/ what it will be like is a question I have no answer for. But without any further ado, I present to you the first chapter of Time's Come Unwound.
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me. Not Doctor Who or the BBC.
Time's Come Unwound
Chapter One
The Doctor and Rose in the TARDIS as it should be, or at least that's what it had been. Now, time had become unwound, not completely, thank you very much, but just enough to alter the history of the Universe so to speak. Enough to change quite a few lives. Not just on Earth, but everywhere you can imagine. From Woman Wept to Clom, and even the Medusa Cascade and the constellation of Kasterborous. The story of how this all happened is for another time I'm afraid. For now, you'll just have to deal with the consequences.
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John Smith, a man of a tall stature, lean, and a bit of a looker, was your typical novelist. He had a mop of brown hair that that seemed to be static the way it stood up on end, with brown eyes to match, and a cheeky smile. He wrote tales of creatures and people of different worlds, and on the occasion, myths of sorts. You could tell at a glance he was a dreamer and that he was good for a laugh by the mischievous glint in his eye, and he was.
Rose Turner was a woman that made a person smile. She had a way with words and emotions, which came in handy at her shop, a quant little coffee/tea place that never seemed to be quite full. She herself had bleach blonde hair that might remind someone of the sun, that fell just to her shoulders, full lips that were often curved upwards in a teasing smile, and hazel eyes.
These two were characters, misfits people might say, yet these "misfits" had never crossed paths before and that was certainly about to change.
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Saturday, 24th, March
The rain had started coming down in sheets and John Smith couldn't cost the wait for the bus, he had to start writing. He had a fantastic idea: people who traveled through time and space in something truly original: a phone box. He'd dreamt it the night before and he had to get it down before it disappeared. The strange thing though, had been that it was so vivid, he had almost thought it was real. He laughed at the thought that it could possibly be true.
Mr. Smith had his laptop tucked carefully under the tan fabric of his trench coat as he ran, bursting into the nearest shop that was open and dry: a little café of sorts. He threw open the glass door and barreled straight into someone, knocking both of them down, with him sprawled out on top of the stranger.
"Could you please get off?" A musical voice came from beneath John, so he looked down at its owner: a woman in her early to mid twenties smiled awkwardly up at him, her golden hair wrapped up in a bun, had now come loose around her face.
"Excuse me? Anyone at home in that noggin?" She asked again, managing to shift an arm and poke him in the shoulder. He shook himself out of his daze and scrambled off the woman and retrieved his laptop, which had fallen out of his jacket when he ran into her.
"Sorry…" he stuttered, smiling sheepishly and offered his hand to help her up, "Didn't watch where I was going, I'll just…" He winced at how terrible that had sounded as he motioned over at an empty table for two. To his embarrassment the girl started laughing, "What?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, setting the computer down on the round surface.
"Sorry, 's just you remind me of a friend." She giggled, "My name's Rose, Rose Turner, and welcome to Riverside Café." she said tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she grinned at him.
"J-John Smith." He said, annoyed that his voice wasn't letting him talk, "Well, it's nice to meet you Rose Turner." John grinned opening the laptop and typing the idea down furiously, "Sorry, random question, but what's your favorite girls name?" He asked Rose suddenly. John noted her confusion and quickly explained, "Idea for a story, that's all, but I can't think of the right name."
"Uh huh." Rose sounded disbelieving, "Emilia I guess. I've never really thought about that question before." She grinned, crossing her arms, "So whatcha writin' about then?" She peered at the screen, trying to make sense of the nonsensical ramblings that covered well over a page.
John stared at her for a second; Rose Turner would make a good character. He looked back at his notes quickly, "Well, stupid stuff really. I suppose it's about a man and well, his adventures through time and space with his friends I suppose..." he trailed off, watching her expressions, trying to read them, as she studied the words, "Maybe have a little bit of a romance mixed in with the rest." He muttered after a moments thought.
"A love story, eh?" she giggled, maybe John Smith isn't so bad after all. John gulped, he hadn't meant for her to hear that, as he wasn't sure of the plot himself, he nodded slowly,
"Yeah, I think so." He replied, "I'm not sure where that idea would head, however. I've never been good at starting my stories, I'm better at the endings and the bits in between." Rose nodded slowly, looking back at the counter, there was a person waiting to order.
"Well good luck on the story, pop in any time you like, but I've got to get back to work." She smiled, waving cheerily and heading back to her stool.
"Before you go, could I get a cup of tea? Earl grey with one cream and two sugars?" John asked sheepishly, "Probably should've asked that first..." he murmured, staring at the computer screen.
"No problem." Rose replied, grinning with her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, "It'll be out in a few minutes, if you can wait that long."
"Thanks." he smiled. Now to write. Characters and their names... John ran through a list of names, keeping Emilia in mind. Amelia... Amy. Romans... He'd come up with something. Maybe some music would help, stuffing his ear buds into their homes, he hit play. Strains of Dona Nobis Pacem lilted through his mind. It was relaxing.
Just then Rose placed a cup down in front of him. He smiled gratefully nodded his thanks. Then he got an idea, a completely mad idea, but maybe it could be a good one, "Er... Rose, could I ask you another favor?" To his delight she nodded, "You see, I was wondering if you could help me out at all, that is if you'd like to, on this book. You don't have to, I just was, I mean I was just wondering..." John stuttered, staring at a royal blue tile on the floor. He blushed as she giggled again and nodded slowly,
"Sure, I'd love to. May as well give the whole writing thing a try, even if I was never very good." she grinned, before going back to her perch behind the counter.
John smiled to himself, looking down at his keyboard, which he had carefully put stickers of the galaxy on a few years ago, and began to tap down ideas, his imagination bursting with far too many thoughts to be written down in one go. He had a good feeling about this story, maybe it would write itself.
