Story based on doctor who. A lot will be explained in 2nd chapter so please R&R!
Cathy's day to day life was simple
Any other adjective relevant to it would have been offensive. She was a shelf stacker. Every morning she got up at 7 o'clock and had cereal for breakfast and every night she had a mug of hot chocolate and went to bed at 10 o'clock.
Some times she did sit down and wonder why she was doing it to herself. She hated it – her mundane existence – an existence that used to be full of excitement, spontaneity, mind-boggling thoughts and… fun. Now, the only things to excite her was if some well known flour brand changed its packaging and the only things she had to think about were the neatness and order of the shelves in the supermarket down the road that said it was open 24 hours but wasn't.
It was while, in fact, she was pondering whether nappies should be ordered by size or by brand that an extremely loud and, frankly, terrifying scream issued from the bathroom. Cathy smiled. It amused her how much she enjoyed living with Sam. She was by far the loudest, most dramatic and crude 21st century stereotypical teenager that Cathy had ever met and, of course, she would not be Sam if she was not terrified of spiders. Mrs Layland, the rather strange old woman that lived in the flat below them, often knocked on the door (she didn't believe in door bells) to ask them if everything was alright as she had just heard the most awful scream coming from their flat and to be assured that it was just youthful anti-social behaviour and not, in any way shape or form, a Jack the ripper wannabe. Mrs Layland would then take great pleasure in reassuring them that she used to be a member of the neighbourhood watch before getting the door shut on her. Even though Cathy had never been able to take her seriously since watching Hot Fuzz she liked old Mrs Layland with her odd fashions and superstitions. The lady had an air about her that suggested that she knew a lot more than anyone else ever would and it reminded Cathy of someone who, though she tried to kid herself otherwise, she liked to be reminded of.
But now he was gone and Cathy had a roommate to save from an arachnid. She smiled again and went to get the duster while Sam answered the door to, undoubtedly, Mrs Layland.
It wasn't Mrs Layland at the door. The voice that answered Sam's created a strange sort of whooshing sensation inside Cathy's head that made her feel really awake and then really tired in the space of about a fifth of a second. She shut the door to the bathroom behind her and stood there eye to eye with Sam's little spider franticly searching for some form of escape and, failing that, plan in general. The person at the door wanted to speak to her, she could hear Sam shouting for her to come, but she didn't want to speak to them.
Cathy forced herself to take a deep breath. It was just a mistake, probably just the landlord come to complain yet again about their overflowing bins. But the landlord didn't have an American accent, nor did the landlord greet people with,
'Captain Jack Harkness'