Inspired by a prompt on Tumblr

When Needed

"Whatever you do, just keep standing in the middle of the sidewalk!"

Donna Temple-Noble glared as she pushed past the woman who'd decided it was acceptable to stop walking in the middle of the sidewalk, causing the people behind her to nearly collide into one another and to her. Donna, one of those people, wasn't in the mood for polite but pointed frowns. Of late, she'd been feeling out of sorts. She couldn't quite place why, and it only added to her annoyance.

"You're not the only person here," she snapped as she charged ahead, struggling to rebalance her grocery bag and purse. Of course the only parking spot she'd been able to find was two blocks from the store, and all of Cheswick appeared to be out that day.

A sea of hair and hats bobbled in front of her, and she blinked into the sunlight. About ten feet in front of her was a tall, skinny man with brown hair, spiked and rather messy. Donna didn't think anything of it, but then he half-turned, and a spark shot through her head, fuzzy visions racing through her mind. She exhaled and paused.

"Keep walking!" a female voice, laced with sarcasm, snapped at her, and Donna glanced up to see the woman she'd scolded scowl at her as she walked by.

Donna would have retorted, but she was too dazed. She felt herself drawn back to that tall, thin stranger. He was still there, now twenty feet ahead.

She had no idea what was compelling her. Or where these images had come from. The visions she'd just seen were fading away before she could catch them, and a sense of familiarity washed over her. But it was ridiculous. She'd never seen that man before in her life.

So why did she feel the need to talk to him?

She picked up her pace, not even caring she'd walked by the lot where her car was, only fifteen minutes left on the meter, if that.

"Oi! You!" she heard herself calling, knowing he'd think she was a nutter. But she needed to see this man and at least ask him his name.

The crowd stopped at an intersection, and Donna made her way up to the man, dressed in a long trench coat and bouncing his heels. Blimey, he's really skinny, Donna thought and exhaled, blinking to push away the awkwardness. "Excuse me!" she said.

The man turned, and Donna felt the world warp.

"Yes?" he asked, his blue eyes boring into her as if she'd made some sort of major social faux pas by speaking to him. He reeked of elitism, and she felt colder. She'd expected something else. She wasn't quite sure, but sneering indifference was definitely not it. Maybe slightly manic? Boy-like? Goofy but kind of endearing?

Whoever Donna thought this man was, he obviously wasn't.

Donna's shoulders sagged, and she was almost angry with him for not being whoever she thought he was. "Sorry," she muttered. "Thought you were someone else."

She turned before he could reply, barely registering the glares of everyone around her. The fuzzy images that had come out of nowhere were gone, and all she was left with was a sadness that had been just as unexpected as the familiarity had been. She blinked back tears as she walked against the current, going back to her car as if in a daze.

Walking to the lot, she somewhat noticed another figure amidst all the cars. She fished for her keys and swore as they slipped from her hand to the pavement.

"Of course," she muttered and placed the grocery bag on the top of her car. As she reached for her keys, two shiny black shoes walked into her vision.

"Excuse me, but do you know where Loretta's Launderette is located?"

The voice, rough and Scottish, sounded more annoyed than pleading.

Donna rolled her eyes as she straightened. "What do I look like, a flippin' map?" she retorted, but her ire was cut short as she beheld the man before her.

A mop of grey curls sat atop his head, and he was dressed like an eccentric musician who hadn't been told his heyday was over decades ago. But it was the expression on his face cooled all of Donna's earlier negative emotions. He was staring at her like she was his best friend.

And for the second time in twenty minutes, a rather nice, peaceful feeling settled over her.

The man smiled. "I'm sorry," he said and shrugged. "I'm picking up something for my friend and I have no idea where the launderette is." He frowned. "Or was it a florist?"

Donna smirked. "Those are two rather different things, mate," she said.

He smiled. "Yes, but I know it's called Loretta's."

Donna cocked her head to the right. "Down that corner. It's a launderette," she said.

He didn't turn. He just gazed at her, wonderment and a slight sadness to him. "Thanks."

"Hope that's the one you were after," Donna said, her heart tugging for this stranger.

He smiled as if she'd said the most amazing thing. "It'll do."

Donna arched her eyebrow. Why did all the weirdos find her? "All right, then. See ya."

The man flinched, but Donna didn't see it as she turned to open her car.

"Thank you!"

She looked up again. He grinned and stepped back, his arm hitching into the air. "I'll just go and…"

Donna nodded. "Later, mate," she said and smiled at him. He was weird, but she rather liked how he had looked at her. Like he thought she was so important for telling him where to go. She watched him turn and walk away.

Feeling inexplicably happier, Donna sighed and shoved her groceries into the car.

A/N – The Loretta's Launderette/Florist bit is a nod to the lovely Beautiful Chaos, by Gary Russell. I highly recommend it.