Eyes fixed on the television in front of me; I caught a glimpse of something in the background. Since I had my DVR installed, I re-winded it, and looked again. What? I was watching one of those boring news shows about the election next year, and somebody that I knew was in the background.

Well, not exactly knew, just someone I knew about. A blue box materialized in the far background as I replayed the clip over and over again. I looked at this instance closely, no need to believe in something impossible. But, on closer inspection, I was right! Sitting on the middle of a street in Washington DC was a police public call box! I was utterly baffled. Being in a New-York college had its good points, as it was possible to get on a twenty minute flight right to DC.

And so I did. While I was sitting on this $100 plane ride, I began to question what I had just seen. The plush seats stood upright, so it was impossible to get a nap in. It was my imagination, I concluded; but what if it wasn't? What if the Doctor's TARDIS really did stand right in the middle of the United States' capitol?

I popped open my laptop, wondering if any other Whovians had seen this increasingly exciting clip. My thought process denied this, it was on local news, and the show was on at 4 AM. I was up because I am a slight insomniac, and can't seem to get to sleep. I phoned Alexandra over Skype, wondering if my dear English friend would like to hear of the increasingly stupid choice I made.

"Hey Alex, where are you?"

Her tone was light and airy, "How is it over in that wonderful continent of yours, I am currently in bed, celebrating my week off."

Right, Alex was currently in early afternoon. It really helped that you could call someone in the dead of night, having it be a reasonable time for them.

"Err," I started, not knowing how to phrase this, "I took a flight to DC because I thought I saw the TARDIS on television. I saw it on one of those early annoying political shows, so I doubt anyone else knows. You are the only person who would halfway believe me, and nobody else is up to come with me. What do you think?"

Alex seemed concerned. "Are you sure about this, like absolutely sure?"

"Yes, yes I am." I was calm and firm, knowing even the smallest ounce of uncertainty would put her off.

"Well then, go and look for your doctor!"

I was reassured by this, and we chatted about nothing for the remaining ten minutes of our flight. My spirits were raised, and my interest piqued.

I had plenty of friends in Washington, but most were asleep at this hour. So, I strolled through the streets, hoping to find that fated intersection. I think I looked like a druggie or an alcoholic, walking around in sweats and a tee before the sun had even touched the lip of the horizon.

I knew that the TARDIS had landed near a large park, but there seemed to be an endless number of those in this city. Giving up, I went to the only place I knew that would welcome me at this time of night, Sal's Coffee Shop.

The warm, cozy, and inviting place was the only time I felt at home. Founded by a grade-school teacher, Mr. Goode, I was always welcomed here. Sal Goode had been a crazy, helpful, interesting person. One who taught because he hated his teachers when he was younger, he made everything fun. When he got fired because the parents thought their kids weren't getting a proper education, he opened a small café in the heart of DC. It wasn't usually a busy place; the maximum occupancy was thirty, a rule broken often by myself and a few friends.

Sal had become a father to me, gave me my first coffee. Then, after I spat it out, gave me my first cup of tea. He harbored my growing addiction to tea, and always had a cup ready whenever I stopped by. He was English, and because of the time I spent there, I developed a half accent of my own, which all my friends thought was cool.

We looked quite a bit alike as well. My blonde-brown hair was matched with his salt and pepper scruff. We were both quite pale, and Sal always badgered me to get out more. But the one thing that gave away our difference was my eyes. My eyes were a startling silver, not a dull brown like his.

So when I stumbled into the café, I was shocked to see some other people sitting at the counter at four in the morning, definitely not dressed for the cold winter weather, but dressed for a warmer climate. Getting over to my regular stool, I asked the server, Erika, to get Sal for me.

Warm brown eyes met mine as the fifty-something year old walked to the counter. He winked as he asked for my order.

"Don't play games with me Mr. Goode. Just get me your favorite at the moment." I asked, knowing that he would pick out a tea perfect for the mood I was in.

He turned his back to pour some tea. Soon enough a warm china mug was set in my hands. Sal recognized that tonight, I didn't want to be bothered. He gave me a warm smile and walked back behind the scenes.

At this point, I couldn't help but over hear the other couple in the café; they seemed to be having a spat, but one that was repeated often.

"Once, just once, could your stupid machine take us to where we wanted to go?" The girl muttered.

"Don't call her a machine and you should be used to this by now, travelling with me for almost a year." At this point the girl sighed, and asked Erika for a cup of tea. I took this as an opportunity to chat with the girl on my left.

"I prefer a cup of chamomile this early in the morning." I told her, with a charming smile. She seemed thankful for another girl's input. "And, if you're from England, you better tell her how you want it; otherwise she'll give it to you black."

The girl smiled back and thanked me. It seemed that she was a very social person, despite being all alone, except for the strange man on her side. I scooted over a leather stool, initiating some needed conversation.

"So, sweetheart, what brings you here? You seem to be from London, judging by your accent." I thought up a lie about why I was here before adding. "I came here looking for something, perhaps you did too?" It wasn't exactly a lie, more of a half-truth.

She seemed grateful to have someone to talk to so early in the morning. "Yeah, I am from the general London area, and I came here just looking, not necessarily for anything in particular."

"You travel? That must be awfully exciting. I just grew up here, and then moved to New York for college."

"Really! You haven't traveled anywhere?" I shook my head. "Why hasn't anyone brought you along for vacation?"

"I do have this friend, her name's Alexandra—she likes to be called Alex—and she lives in London, but I don't have any money to go and visit her. I really would like to."

"Alexandra Cummings?"

I was surprise that she knew of Alex; she claimed not to have many friends. "Yeah, why do you ask?"

"She's one of my quite good friends, but I'm afraid I left almost a year ago with no explanation. That's when I met this Dumbo," she gestured to the man on her left, "And went travelling."

"We could Skype her… Do you want to see?"

She vigorously nodded her head, "By the way, my name's Tara."

"Nice to meet you Tara, mine is Vie."

"Vie? Isn't that life in French?

I answered yes, while pulling out my computer from my backpack, plugging it into one of the outlets underneath the counter. Tara and I swapped phone numbers while I impatiently pulled up Skype.

"Alex, pick up." I moaned impatiently while waiting for the call to go through.

"Hey! Did you find it?" She teased, her eyebrows raised.

I cut her off before she could say anything that might embarrass me. "Guess who I've got?"

"A boyfriend?" She joked.

"No, it's someone you've met in real life, one of your friends." I added a flourish of my hands for dramatic effect.

"What! No, I don't have any friends other than you." Alex was seriously confused.

I trained my webcam on Tara. "Hi!"

Alex's face seemed confused and angry, like someone she loved came back, but had also betrayed her before she left.

"Tarabithia Marie Johnson, you have no idea how worried I've been, how we've all been. You disappeared leaving clothes, a boyfriend, a best friend, and a whole family clueless. Now you show up thousands of miles from home, with my best friend. What happened? Was it your mom? I bet she's sorry for not allowing you to marry Jakob, that it was supposed to be strictly dating until thirty. Was it me? I didn't want to meet any of your 'bar friends,' so you thought that you should just leave?

"What about Jakob? He's been sick with worry. He can't, and hasn't, stopped looking for you. He's currently in India, because you always expressed an interest in their culture. He won't give up; he dropped out before he could retake A-levels. He spent loads so that he could learn the Indian languages, he packed enough to last years, and he's still looking for you.

"Tell you what, go to Jakob. Pretend that you've been in India the whole time. Learn the languages, wear a sari. Just pretend that all of his leads led to you. Please, I am so glad that you've turned up. I really am, but you have to pretend that you haven't just been 'travelling.' Please?"

Tara seemed really distraught after Alex hung up. She turned back to her friend.

"Doctor, I need to leave. I'm leaving you. I have to go; I can't just travel after this. Thanks, but there is no way that I will save another galaxy knowing that he's looking for me."

Tara turned back to me, expressing her thanks for the conversation, and that she needed to leave. I was oblivious because Tara had called her friend 'Doctor.' Like the Doctor, the one I was looking for. Then she left, dragging the Doctor behind her.