This was inspired by a prompt in my English composition class. The prompt is the first line, in bold. I doubt I'll finish it, but who knows. Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: I'm only borrowing these characters. God, if they were mine... (evil grin)

Reviews are love!


A screaming comes across the sky. Jack looks up- the ship is bearing down on him, its rusted cogs and wheels protesting angrily at the harsh pace set by its pilot. Rusty or no, it's still more than a match for Jack, who's on foot, and he ducks into an alley. The ship hesitates; it seems torn between risking the tight space of the alley, or possibly losing its target by going above the roof. As Jack tears through alley after alley, his navy blue coat-flaps rippling in his wake, the ship makes up its mind. Occasionally a brick wall would screech in protest as the ship snags in its pursuit, but it's gaining on its quarry. Filled with dread, Jack hurls into a flat-out sprint, kicking off of corner walls so as not to lose momentum. He fills with dread as he hears the grating and groaning ever closer, never relenting.

So this is it, he thinks. The immortal man felled by a giant robot alien. His last bits of hope start to fizzle out when he hears the most glorious noise- he knows that noise.

"Doctor!" He roars, adrenaline and hope coursing through his veins. The beloved police box finishes its materialization sequence, that comforting, unique blue, and a man in a long brown coat- Gods did he love that man- swaggers out, his big brown eyes telling of hundreds of years more than his face.

"Blimey, you can shout."