"Wake up."

He's facedown, feeling nothing but cold marble against his cheek. His hands and feet are bound with rope and there is cloth covering his eyes.

"Wake up," said the voice again, this time with more venom in those words.

"Where am I?" he asked.

The Voice spoke again to him, low and unforgiving.

"I'm going to tell you ten facts, do you understand?"

He recognized the voice partially, not enough to place a name or a face, just enough to send fear straight into his heart. "Yes," he whispered, "I understand."

"Fact number 1: You are on my spaceship, no one will look for you and nobody will find you. Fact number 2: I have, in my hand a .357 revolver, circa 2011, Earth. Fact number 3: It holds 6 rounds." The Voice paused, making sure those words sunk in.

He managed to get into a kneeling position while the Voice recited it's facts.

"Fact number 4: I will only need one of those rounds."

"Why am I here?!" he screamed at the Voice.

"Fact number 5: You already know why you are here."

"Fact number 6," the Voice continued, "You're a hitman."

He gulped, things were starting to fall into place.

"Fact number 7: you killed the only person keeping me sane."

Whoops, he thought humorlessly, my bad.

"Fact number 8: You will wish for death."

"Fact number 9: You WILL tell me who hired you and why."

"Oh Yeah," He asked defiantly, "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Fact number 10: I am worse than death." The Voice unwrapped the cloth from his captive's face. "I am your own personal boogeyman." The captive looked at the Voice's face and knew. He didn't know what he knew, but he knew.

"Not only can I kill you, I can also make sure you were never born." The Voice grinned a terrible grin, one filled with hatred and anger. The hitman looked into the Voice's eyes and he saw Pain beyond his years mixed with the righteous flames of centuries worth of madness.

"You will tell me what I want to know," he continued, "Because I am a Time Lord."

Chapter One: Sleepless In Seattle

Vivienne checked her alarm clock once again. 2:45. Great, she thought, Another night with no sleep. This had been going on for a few days now and Vivienne was getting really fed up with it. With a groan she hopped out of bed. Looking around at her small Seattle apartment she sighed. She had moved from the rural town of Yakima to Seattle as an eighteen year old high school drop-out in hopes of becoming a famous artist. She ended up with a job waiting tables for a Chinese restaurant. She loved Seattle, with its bright lights and constant movement, but she wasn't reaching the stars that she gave up everything to shoot for. She had her art, which she was extremely proud of (local art galleries were not, however.) and her job had her earning enough to continue paying rent each month with money to spare. But with every day that her dreams seemed to soar past her, she became more and more disillusioned.

After searching for clothes in her room Vivienne found a pair of grey sweats and a matching hoodie. She grabbed her favorite pair of tennis shoes and pulled her long brown hair into a pony tail before closing the door and locking it. It had almost become a routine for her, as sleep would rarely come for her until four or five in the morning. She realized that this had become her life: days working as a dime a dozen waitress/failed artist, nights of no sleep and pure monotony. She thought that this was going to be the rest of her life. She couldn't have been more wrong.

She set her Ipod to a generic hip-hop station and starting jogging down the sidewalks of Seattle. She generally went a loop about a half mile out and around, but this time she decided to jog the opposite direction. May as well mix it up, she thought to herself wryly. Vivienne continued her jog towards the brighter parts of Seattle, and while it was close to three in the morning there were still a few people walking around. Her favorite song began playing on her Ipod and she found herself getting lost into the music. After humming along for the first verse, her lack of attention caught up to her and she bumped into something and she could feel herself falling, face first to the ground. Suddenly, her obstacle reached out and caught her before Vivienne could fall.

She righted herself before speaking, "Er, Thanks," she said red as a beet. She looked at her obstacle/savior inquiringly. O/S turned out to be a six foot tall man, with long, dark curly hair and clothing that appeared to be from the Victorian era. "No problem," he said cheerfully in a light English accent, "I'm a bit lost, however, if you could possibly tell me what year it is?" She stared at him before being able to answer, "Uhm…what?" His cheerful grin stayed on his face and his bright silver-blue eyes were kind, but a nervous, impatient tap of a leather clad boot showed his frustration. "I'm sorry; I'm in a bit of a hurry, kind of important 'saving the world' kind of things. The year please?"

Vivienne managed to pull herself together and salvage at least some of her dignity, "It's 2005." The strange man grinned even wider. "Brilliant, thanks!" He turned to walk away but Vivienne grabbed onto his arm, "Why are you dressed like that?"

He frowned unsure of what she was referring to. Vivienne pointed at his apparel. "Oh," he nodded understandingly, "I guess these clothes are no longer the fashion then, Right? It appears as though a new set of clothes are in order, though usually the Tardis picks my clothes, but with her being all 'directionally challenged' this could be an issue, well just another reason to get cracking then!" With a flurry of coattails the strange man turned once again to leave. He stopped after a couple steps and turned back to Vivienne, "Oh by the way, what's your name?" he asked.

"Vivienne," she answered cautiously at this apparently crazy man, "What's yours?" He grinned before answering, "Atticus Bishop, at your service!" with a regal bow. "Vivienne is an excellent name, very nice to say, reminds me of the color purple. I love the color purple, I had a wonderful tie that was purple, I wish I didn't lose that tie," Atticus looked down at his shirt and scowled, "Oh well, new face, new wardrobe."

Vivienne was silently absorbing what Atticus told her. Tardis'? New faces? Victorian era clothing? What the hell was going on? Who was this man? Just as she was about to voice her thoughts, he interrupted her with the most important question in the whole universe. One question that would result in the destruction of the universe, or saving it.

"Want to go on an adventure?"

Yes this an OC fic. I'm going to avoid the pitfalls in doing OC fics as much as I can. I will also be getting more into Atticus' backstory, hopefully by the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed.