"Junior Entertainment Manager? Why not Senior for my Oswin?" Dave Oswald asked his fiery little daughter, and she shook her head. "Dad, you know I prefer children to those pretentious university students with enough dosh to drown a penguin," she told him with a mischievous smile. "Anyway," she continued, "I get sixty-five thousand a year; you shouldn't worry about me. Don't ever worry about me, Dad." He smiled apologetically as she pressed a kiss to his creased forehead and brushed a hand through his silvering hair. "I won't," he promised her. "Well, I'll definitely try not to." They both laughed. "I just can't believe it. My little Oswin-" he began, and she punched him lightly in the arm at 'little'. "My Oswin," he corrected himself with a grin, "selected out of four thousand applicants for either job. My clever little- I mean, my clever Oswin." The petite brunette beamed, and commenced packing for a four year trip to the still untitled Dalek planet. Hurry up, now, Oswin, she thought to herself. The Starship Alaska waits for no one.
Before they knew it, she was waving her father goodbye at the launching base and stepping into a cool, yellow-lit room with crimson furnishings and many, many sets of the latest gadgets and gear. Oswin took it all in with a grin lighting up her pretty face, and took a step back to admire it all – and stepped onto the Italian leather shoe of the man behind her. She quickly slid her foot off his, only to roll her ankle and started to fall. The small brunette flailed around before giving up to gravity, but he caught her easily around the waist with a smile. She thanked God in her head that she hadn't spilled her iced coffee. "Careful, love," he murmured, looking straight into her wide honey brown eyes, like he was searching for something in them. He was looking for hope. Her breath came in shallow, feathery light gasps as he inspected her with an appreciative gaze; he was happy just to see her. Oswin looked back up at him in curiosity, tilting her head to one side.
Her saviour was dressed like the guy from Mary Poppins. Head-to-toe covered in tweed, blue button-up shirt, deep red suspenders and a matching... bowtie? Who wears bowties anymore? she wondered to herself. Oswin giggled, and tapped the side of his face absent-mindedly, as if to check if he was real. He looked at her strangely, but made no protest as she straightened his bowtie from her position in his arms. "Bowties are cool," he told her, and she smiled again as he finally pulled her to standing position. "Well," she said, dusting off her funky red asymmetrical dress and offering her hand, "I'm Oswin Oswald, Junior Entertainment Manager, Starship Alaska. Or, I will be anyway. 'S what I'm here for. It was that or be a pastry chef..." He beamed at her, taking her outstretched hand in both of his and lowering a kiss to it, not taking his eyes off hers. She found him to be quite – creepy, in all honesty - but her heartbeat still quickened with excitement for some reason. Oswin felt like she'd just met with her purpose in life, which happened to be quite an accurate description. "Pastry chef, eh? That's quite different from playing nanny," he told her somewhat cheekily, and she gasped in mock offense. "I happen to just really enjoy making soufflés, thank you," she told him matter-of-factly.
"I'm the Doctor, Senior Entertainment Manager. We'll be living in the same part of the ship, how exciting! Lovely to meet you, Oswin. Nice name, by the way. You should definitely keep it," he told her in a flurry, and she nearly laughed at him again. So excited and ready for anything; he was a bouncing little boy in clever man's body. He would have to be clever if he's my colleague on this ship, she concluded sharply. Starship Alaska only takes the best.
"Doctor who?" she asked him, expecting a prim and proper set of names to follow. He shook his head. "Just the Doctor. I don't remember what my name was," he told her, not without a hint of sadness. "I lost my parents when I was a kid."
Oswin's eyes fell; she didn't expect that to make her so sad. She'd lost her own mother when she was sixteen.
"And... you appear to be matching the furniture. Did you do that on purpose? How intriguing!"
She could only stare back at him.
"We should probably board the ship now," he told her, waving the boarding ticket. She dropped her hand out of his, and he found his hand felt rather empty without hers – like her hand was a part of his, even though they'd just met. "Yeah, we probably should," she agreed, and tried to seem forward and businesslike, but she couldn't help but notice that she felt empty as well. He opened his mouth to say something - but she would never know, as she hurried off to greet the captain and board the Alaska.