Beginnings

AN: Hey, I just thought I'd give you a heads up that I'm not British. So if you notice American slang, that's why. Happy readings :)

The Doctor sighs. "Well, Brad, you're eighteen now, which is a typical Earth age for becoming an adult.

Brad snorts. "So, what? Are you gonna say I'm not? That Timelords aren't adults until 118 or some equally bullshit age?!"

The Doctor winces. "Language!"

"I don't care!" Brad yells. "You never let me do anything I wanna do, and now you won't even let me be an adult! You're a sucky dad!"

The Doctor sighs and shakes his head, his stylish brown hair getting tousled a bit in the process. "Brad, I brought the subject up because I DO think you're an adult." He reaches inside his long, tan cloak. "That's why I got you this vortex manipulator," he says, pulling it out of his coat pocket. He smiles. "Happy eighteenth birthday, son."

Brad's eyes light up. "A TARDIS!" he exclaims. Then he frowns. "Wait, can one of those fit inside a bracelet?"

"Oy! Weren't you listening? I said this is called a Vortex Manipulator, not a TARDIS!" the Doctor exclaims.

Brad straps the Vortex Manipulator to his wrist, then frowns. "Then how do I take stuff with me?"

"Well, you can take everything you're holding, everything you're wearing, even a friend or two as long as they hold on tight."

"That's all?" Brad complains. "This thing sucks! I want a TARDIS!"

"Well you're not getting one!" the Doctor exclaims, fed up with Brad's complaining. "In fact, I don't even think you're ready for this Vortex Manipulator!" He tries to take it from Brad, but Brad pulls away and starts pushing random buttons on it.

"Bradly Smith, give back the vortex manipulator this instant!" the Doctor exclaims. "I haven't even taught you how to fly it yet!"

Brad shrugs. "Whatever. Like, bye!" And with the press of a final button, he disappears.

….

Becca stifles a sigh. She is taking yet another test in yet another honors class that will last yet another hour. Wearily, she reads the next question. What types of cells have cell walls? Becca twirls a strand of her straight, blond hair as she thinks, then glances out the window. The tiny, high-up windows make HER feel like she's in a cell. Stifling another sigh, she returns her attention to her test.

Finally, the bell rings. Becca rushes down the hall, excited that she only has one more class to go. Becca is so excited that she doesn't notice Emily until too late.

"Watch it, LOOSER!" Emily huffs, glaring at Becca before continuing down the hall.

Becca takes a deep breath, then continues walking. Stupid popular girls, she thinks to herself. She has to remind herself that it's her last class AND FRIDAY before she finally cheers up. Which is good, because she will need all her patience for what comes next.

Becca figured today's history class would be as boring as ever. Just more boring dates and names of dead people to memorize before her next test. She never anticipated what would happen next.

The teacher had just started teaching, when the door bursts open and a stranger walks in. He looks about eighteen, with spiked-up black hair and brown eyes, and wearing a black hoodie, blue jeans, and shoes. "Sorry I'm late," he says, not looking particularly sorry.

"Late? Who are you? What are you doing here?!" the teacher stammers.

The stranger raises an eyebrow. "You don't know?"

"No. Now explain yourself," the teacher says, crossing his arms.

The stranger shrugs. "I'm a new student. Oh yeah, here's my transfer paper," he adds, handing the teacher a piece of paper.

Since Becca is sitting in the front row, she is able to see what is on the paper. Or, rather, what ISN'T on the paper. Because the paper is completely blank!

Becca wonders just how stupid this guy is to hand the teacher a blank piece of paper. But then something strange happens. "It says here you were kicked out of a private school?" the teacher says, looking first at the paper, then at the stranger in disapproval. Becca's mouth drops open. Why did her teacher seem to be seeing something on the blank piece of paper?

The stranger's eyes widen as well, but only for a second before he smirks. "I wouldn't say I got kicked out, more like they politely asked me to never come back."

The teacher scowls. "I don't know about your last school, but here we do not tolerate rude behavior, Mr…." he looks down at the paper, "…Mr. Smith."

"Please, call me Brad," Brad replies.

His teacher scowls harder. "Well, Bradly Smith, you've wasted enough class time, so it's time you sit down."

Brad shrugs. "'K," he says, heading for a seat in the back.

"In the front row," his teacher finishes.

Becca stifles a sigh. The only seat still available in the front row is next to her, and she really doesn't want this annoying guy to sit next to her.

Brad saunters over to the seat to Becca's right and plops down lazily into it. He grins at Becca. Becca rolls her eyes.

Their teacher finally begins the day's lesson. "The Holocaust was a terrible tragedy," he begins. "There were some attempts to assassinate Hitler, but unfortunately, none were successful—"

"One would have been if the stupid Doctor didn't mess it up!" Brad yells.

"Bradly Smith, I have had enough of your nonsense! Go sit in the hall!" the teacher exclaims.

"Well it's true!" Brad yells, before storming out to the hall. Becca rolls her eyes again.

The teacher resumes teaching, but Becca is having a hard time concentrating. She keeps thinking about Brad's paper. Her teacher clearly saw something, yet Becca did not. Wearily, Becca wonders if she was just imagining the paper being blank. After all, she was up rather late last night studying. Maybe she was just too tired to focus on what she was seeing. Yet Becca can't forget the brief look of surprise on Brad's face, like he too knew the paper was blank. Sighing, Becca decides she'll just have to keep an eye on him.

Becca gets her chance sooner than she expected. In her rush to start the weekend, she literally crashes into Brad, who is standing right outside the door. "Sorry," Becca says, when she notices the piece of paper from earlier fall out of Brad's pocket. Brad reaches to pick it up, but Becca is faster. She snatches it up in a heartbeat and flips it over. The paper is completely blank. "I knew it!" she gasps.

Brad raises an eyebrow. "You saw through my psychic paper?"

"Um, yes?" Becca says hesitantly.

"Wow, you have to be really smart to do that!" Brad says, looking impressed. He frowns. "Or very mistrusting." His eyes widen. "Or a Timelord!" he says excitedly.

Now it's Becca's turn to raise an eyebrow. "A what?"

"Oh," Brad frowns. "Damn, I was really hoping to meet another Timelord."

Becca grows even more skeptical. "A Timelord? Is that just some stupid title you made up to sound more important?"

Brad grins. Nah, but the Doctor is. My, uh, my dad I mean. He calls himself a doctor just to sound more important."

"Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?" Becca asks, putting her hands on her hips. She is convinced that everything Brad has said so far is pure fabrication.

Brad grins. "Yeah, I'm a time-traveler."

"You are so not," Becca huffs, getting impatient.

Brad just grins wider. "Wanna bet?" He rolls up the right sleeve of his hoodie to reveal some sort of weird bracelet-thing underneath.

"What's that then, your time-machine?" Becca snorts, unable to take Brad seriously.

Brad smiles. "Yep!"

"Right. You have a time-machine, but you're failing history class. I have to catch my bus," Becca says, turning to go.

"Wait!" Brad says, his smile starting to fade.

"What? I'm going to miss my bus!" Becca huffs impatiently.

Brad hesitates a second, then says, "If I did have a time-machine, would you travel through time and space with me? Because I think you're… cool," he says, blushing slightly.

Becca raises an eyebrow, then laughs. "The day someone is stupid enough to trust you with a time-machine is the day I'd be stupid enough to come with you."

She turns to go, but is stopped by Brad. "Let go of me!" she yells, but Brad just grins. "Sorry, but you're going to want to hold on for this," he says, grinning wildly. He pushes a button on his vortex-manipulator, and the two of them disappear!

AN: Where will these teenage adventurers end up? What aliens will they encounter? And will Brad ever act more mature? Find out next chapter! Reviews are much appreciated :)