Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. Wish I did, but I don't. I'm sure, maybe in another life, I could have been a companion and could have written about my own adventures. But that was a past life and who has time to remember those? So anyways-enjoy :)

Out in space, right at this very moment, there is a black hole. It is gapping and large, horrific and deep; sucking in anything that dares float too close to its cosmic mouth. It whirls about, kicking up clouds of stardust and knocking about comets as if they were soccer balls. It's a fearful thing, unlike any in the galaxy. It is unique and strange; almost beautiful in a horrible way; it made up of mystery and wonderment, the sort that could only attract disaster. It's enough to baffle even the smartest and most cunning of professors.

Or Doctors.

If one were to take a quick snapshot of this monstrosity, affectionately nicknamed Matilda for no particular reason at all, about a year ago, they would see something that most people would convince themselves wasn't there. They would shake their heads and toss it out, resolving to take another. The next picture would be clear of any oddities and they would chuckle, dismissing how silly their original notion was to begin with. What these people, what you people, would probably dismiss would be the presence of something that doesn't belong in space. A blue police box, spiraling towards Matilda and her vast mouth. Inside that box is a man…or at least what appears to be a man. His eyes are too old for his young face and there's something about him; something almost as baffling as a police box in space.

This creature-the one we will call the Doctor- is trying not to panic. Inside the twirling police box, that we will call the Tardis, a series of beeping and "oh dears" can be heard. He pulls many levers, trying to vain to gain a new course. But his tries are fruitless; Matilda's darkness consumes him, pulling the Tardis into a hyper speed. The Doctor's feet leave the ground and he grips to the nearest knob to steady himself. And then…there is a sensation. In all eleven of his carnations, he's never felt anything quite like it. It feels like he's being lifted from his skin in a painless, weightless, frenzy. His vision doubles, his head begins to spin and wobble And then….all went to black.

This is where our story begins.

There are a couple of myths about Arizona that aren't true.

The first is that it is WAY too hot. It's bearable...most of the time.

The other being that not everyone there is a super model.

Take, for example, a one - Megan Fig.

Megan is nineteen and short in stature. Her dark hair is curly and thick; it's more of a pain than a blessing. Her eyes are a dark green, but hidden behind her dark, thick glasses. For living in the sunshine state, her skin doesn't have much color. A few pale freckles are dusted across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Her figure is nothing to write home about; chesty with a small waist. But it's almost always covered up underneath large, dark clothes. Megan attends a local community college to which she drives to everyday in her mediocre car. She's a waitress at the Outback by her apartment. It's a thankless job with few perks. Overall, Megan is a typical, complacent girl, waiting for life to begin.

If one were to take a snapshot of her a year ago, you would see her tucked into her spacious bedroom, having a slumber party with her best friend, Lynette Acai. It's a somber event; Lynette is spending the night so Megan can give her a ride to the hospital in the morning. Her grandfather is ill and close to passing. The girls are tucked away contently, watching reruns of "House" on the television.

Lynette is grateful for her reliable friend. That night she speaks quietly; over the dull voices on the television, she tells stories of her childhood and memories of her grandpa. The typical things spoken about in difficult times. They talk over bowls of melted vanilla ice cream sundaes and a big bag of tortilla chips. They are, in every sense of the word, typical girls.

But today is a rare event because Megan isn't listening. For the first time in their friendship, Megan isn't focusing on what her best friend has to say. Something is wrong.

You see, there are some people in our universe that are just different. Sometimes it's obvious by the physical; the way they talk and act is awkward and strange. But for some it isn't as obvious. Some don't even know they're "different"; it's nothing but a small, subtle feeling in the back of their mind that reminds them every so often they aren't like the others. They are just different. Different in their thoughts, strange in their actions. This isn't because they are disturbed or chemically imbalanced. Some people in their oddities are nothing but cosmically displaced. They are people whose minds are expanded, whose souls are more closely intertwined with the universe. Having such a mental link with the cosmos can mean heightened psychic tendencies or special abilities.

In Megan's case, it meant bad luck and horrific timing. It was something that had plagued her for years and she'd simply come to accept as an inevitability.

And the end of the cosmos Megan Fig was linked to was about to meet head on with Matilda.

What a wicked, greedy bitch that Matilda is.

Megan felt odd that evening. She felt disjointed and uneasy; off balance and tired. Her limbs seemed suddenly to be made from lead.

"You alright?" Lynette inquired after finishing a particularly long story about Thanksgiving of 2001.

"Just tired." Megan rubbed her head, unable to shake the uneasy feeling.

The girls agreed perhaps it was time to call it a night. Lynette was privately worried for her friend, but voiced nothing and settled down onto the cushions beside Megan. The girls had been friends since their younger years, so there was no awkwardness when it came to sleeping in the same bed. Megan's bed was spacious; a huge queen size mattress she'd splurged on when moving to her own place. Her comforter was fluffy and full, wonderful in every way. Lynette's blonde hair spilled around the numerous pillows in a strange halo as she shut her dark brown eyes in slumber. She muttered a good night before drifting off completely, letting any worry she had melt away into dreamland.

Megan laid awake, letting the darkness keep her company. The clicking of her ceiling fan was comforting in the beginning but the longer she listened the more deranged it became. It sounded hollow and monotonous; like a creature hovering above her in the dark. She closed her eyes, hoping to empty her mind and relax. A strange sensation suddenly came over her. Like a thousand ants marching up and down her arms and legs. It was a weightless, dizzy feeling that made her feel like she was floating out of her own skin. She wanted to open her eyes to reassure herself she was still in bed, but she couldn't do it. It was as if her body didn't want to respond to her commands anymore. And then, there was a sudden, sucking sensation. As if somebody had placed a vacuum to the side of her head. She breathed in sharply and then, all went black.

This is where our story begins.

To awake after being sucked into the worm hole was a bit like waking up after a bad dream. There were memories of something lurking in his subconscious. It was right there, within his grasp, but he couldn't reach it. His fingers brushed it and for a moment, he remembers, but his mind swallows the images whole and before he can dwell on it, he awakens.

The Doctor jerked awake with a start, startled and shaken from black dreams. He found himself in a bedroom; strips of dull light escaping from the curtains. The gentle sound of thunder growled in the distance and the small twinkle of rain hit the glass rhythmically. The Time Lord laid still, disoriented and slowly turned his head to the side. The sleeping beauty beside him startled him, but she seemed peaceful. And young, he frowned. Younger than his tastes usually allowed him. He frowned, wrinkling his brow.

What in the world have I done here?

Perhaps the wormhole had spit him out in another world and had temporarily blocked his memory? No, that's silly. Maybe the crash had knocked him unconscious and this girl had brought him inside? More likely.

He pulled back the blanket curiously, wondering if either of them were clothed. To know if they'd been intimate would be another clue as to what had happened. He half expected to find his naked form, but was instead greeted by a pair of perky breasts.

He threw the blanket back down then peered again. The sight the second time caused him to leap out of the bed. He scrambled to the mirrored closet, staring at his reflection and ferociously patting himself down. He tugged at the long hair, running his hands over his smooth curves and full chest. He even took a squeeze at his backside, just to ensue this was all happening.

The commotion awoke Lynette, who sat up and watched the strange sight.

"What're you doing?" she asked, grumpily.

"I've regenerated." he managed. He was startled but excited. "Don't worry! I'm the man you saved last night!"

"What?"

"I know, it's confusing." he began to pace. "I need you to take me back to my police box. This is the strangest change I've ever made. I don't feel-"

"Megan!" Lynette yelled. There was no worry in waking anyone. Megan's apartment was big enough for only her; no room mates. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Whose Megan?" he asked, baffled. "I'm the Doctor."

"Are you sleepwalking?" she asked hotly. "You sound like a maniac."

"I think you have me mistaken." The Doctor quipped matter-of-factly. "I'm the Doctor. Perhaps we met last night? I may have looked taller…more manly….less girly. Perhaps we shared your bed. Ringing any bells?"

Lynette continued to stare. She gapped, wordlessly, as the Doctor began to explore the room. He instantly found a picture on a shelf; it was Megan and Lynette at the beach, smiling and sun burnt. The light bulb in his head flickered on and he began speaking rapidly, just as Lynette found her own voice.

"Unless the wormhole spurred a phenomenon in which two individuals, myself included of course, were at the wrong cosmic opening at the wrong time. This could have switched our consciousness as I passed through! Aha!" he tossed her the picture which she caught clumsily. "Makes perfect sense! Oh dear-your friend is in for quite a ride. How're we going to fix this? I'd have to track the -"

"Please tell me you're joking." Lynette's voice had gone dry. Her hands trembled rapidly while she spoke. "You're scaring me."

"I'm sorry-um-what's your name?" he continued to smile as if nothing she'd just said phased him.

"You know my name." her voice shook and she waited, waiting for her friend to acknowledge her. But after moments of long, passing silence, she answered. "Lynette."

"Lovely name!" he smiled encouragingly. "Lynette, you're going to be my partner in crime today. I'll tell you everything over some breakfast. How's that sound?"

He didn't give her a chance to respond. He began to make his way out of the room, wandering like a curious child out into the hall.

"I think I'd like to make some pancakes…..I think I like pancakes….."

Megan awoke to the sound of beeping. She'd had some strange dreams that evening; dreams she couldn't exactly remember. A beautiful blonde woman calling out to her, yelling for a Doctor….

As she opened her eyes, she felt a dull soreness in her cheek. She was laying on the floor of what appeared to be some kind of lab maybe? She pushed herself up, looking around slowly. She must have been dreaming….right? But her face hurt way too much for this to not be real. She touched the side of her face, moaning at it's tenderness.

"Ow…." but something was instantly wrong.

Her voice was too deep. Instinctually, Megan touched her throat, only to brush against the prominent Adam's apple. A tremor of fear moved from her crotch up into her eyeballs. She began to feel her face, nothing the odd nose and short hair. Fearfully, she looked down at herself. Megan gasped, clapping her hands over her gapping mouth. The flat chest, the long legs…none of it was hers. She patted frantically at where her breasts should have been, shaking her head.

"This isn't happening." Her voice was that of a man. There was a British accent twisting every word she uttered and it felt foreign rolling off her tongue.

Megan pushed her face into a pained expression then shakily lowered her hand down between her legs. She cupped her crotch area gently, but the nightmare was true. Her hands grasped at an extremity that she'd never encountered before. Least of all places, on herself.

That was the final straw. She screamed, part out of disgust and part of out sheer terror. Leaping to her new feet, she quickly fell again, this time landing on her prominent chin. Whimpers escaped from her mouth as she pinched at cheekbones and the ever so slight prickle of stubble. There was panic and fear; Megan found herself frantically swallowing sobs as she finally managed to get to her feet. She tore through the strange room, stumbling about with the madness of a drunkard. She managed to find a mirror, stopping in her tracks to gaze into it. The young, handsome face glaring back at her caused knots in her stomach to form. She whimpered again, wondering if she might throw up.

"Oh….oh no." she leaned closer, watching the lips smacking together in time with her words. "This…I have to be dreaming."

She pinched herself, hard, on the forearm. But nothing but a stinging pain occurred. She blinked, stupidly, then felt the same rush of panic return.

"How did this happen?" she muttered, pulling at her hair and shaking her head. "This….this can't be…."

She began to look around as her brain began to clear. The lab she was in was filled with loud, beeping equipment. She gripped the railing before her, peering down. She rubbed the side of her face again, sighing quietly. Maybe if she just sat. Megan lowered herself to the ground, her eyes still wide with an unfamiliar terror. Maybe if she just sat here and waited…..somebody would find her.

They'd managed to make pancakes. Big, fluffy pancakes loaded with the blueberries Megan had hanging out in her fridge. Lynette had brewed some coffee and placed apple sauce and a plate of scrambled eggs on the table. The Doctor sat at the end of it, eying the food as if it may get away from him.

"You want syrup?" she asked as she placed a plate before him.

"Yes. Please. That'd be lovely."

No sooner had she handed him the fork and knife, he attacked the breakfast food like a starving beast. He took a large bite, chewing hard then sighing with relief.

"Oh thank goodness-I like pancakes." he smiled gratefully through a mouthful of food. He began to scoop eggs onto his plate. He ate with gusto, shoveling it into Megan's delicate mouth.

Lynette sat adjacent to her, staring blankly.

"So…..let me make sure I've got this straight." she began grudgingly. "You're a Doctor…"

"THE Doctor." he corrected her between mouthfuls.

"The Doctor." she frowned. "And you're…some kind of time hopper?"

"Time Lord." he sighed, rolling his eyes. "Weren't you at all listening while you cooked? It's delicious, by the way."

"Thanks." she shook her head, brushing off the compliment. "But…so…you have basically, according to your story, flew into some kind of black hole which caused you to swap places with Megan because she's…"

"Unusually cosmically balanced." he explained with a smile. "It means that's she unusually connected to a certain part of the cosmos, most likely. Some humans are; some mental energy comes from certain parts of time and space. It's not unheard of, just uncommon. You should be excited that your friend is such an odd bird."

Lynette tried to take a sip of her coffee but put the mug back down immediately.

"I'm having a hard time believing all this." she said, grudgingly.

"Why?" The Doctor seemed confused. "I've been pretty straightforward."

"It's not the delivery that had me confused." she said abruptly. "It's your content. I…I think maybe you're suffering from some kind of….bad dream trauma?" Then she arched her eyebrows. "Or, more likely, you're fucking with me and wanted to confuse me into making you breakfast."

"No." The Doctor put down his fork for a moment and folded his hands under Megan's small chin. "Why would I lie to you about this? I've told you everything in hopes of gaining your assistance. I'd hate to wander around and ruin anything Molly-"

"-Megan."

"-has going for her." he sighed, tucking some of his hair behind his ear. He chuckled, liking how it tickled against his neck. "I really do enjoy these locks of hers. Very fun to play with…"

Lynette held her own face in her hands, sighing loudly and cursing under her breath.

"This is fucking ridiculous." she said, strained. She leaned back, tapping her foot impatiently. "Look, Meg, I don't want to talk about this anymore ok? Let's drop it. I need to go to the hospital so it's time to get dressed…."

"The hospital?" The Doctor echoed, polishing off the breakfast in record time. He licked the last of the maple syrup from his lips before he pressed on. "Why would we need to go there?"

"Fuck off." Lynette got to her feet and began to storm away down the hall. "Be ready in fifteen minutes; I'm going to take a quick shower."

Lynette slammed the door to the bathroom, leaving the Doctor alone with the breakfast dishes. He blinked, thoughtfully, then looked down at the sticky plates and empty juice cups.

"Strange girl." he remarked, running a hand through Megan's thick hair. "This is going to be an interesting few days…." then he frowned to himself, crossing his arms. "…what an odd thing to have happen though. A strange coincidence."

But the Doctor should have known better; there are no such thing as coincidences.

At that very moment in time, miles away but hurling towards them, was something dangerous. Something worrisome.

Something deadly that perhaps only the Doctor could stop.