Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.
Yay, I finally got around to writing my Doctor Who fanfiction! Get ready for some AWESOMENESS!
I woke up to the smell of something different. It wasn't the smell of trash or sewer water. It wasn't the smell of car exhaust nor was it the smell of anything else I had gotten used to over the past few days. I sat up abruptly and sniffed again. Cinnamon? Or is that caramel? Something sweet made its way to my nose once more. It was definitely cinnamon. My stomach was the first to respond. It let out a long low growl.
I looked around. I couldn't see much from between the two large garbage cans so I poked my head out and looked down the alleyway and into the street. I sighed as I realized where the smell was coming from. The open window of the house across the street had a loaf of cinnamon bread sitting in the window. I groaned. There was no way possible I would be able to get that delicious smelling treat in my tummy. Slowly, I got up. There was something that sleeping in a sleeping bag out in the cold did to you.
"Ugh, help me, God."
My house had been taken away a week ago. I lost my job a month ago. Slowly hoarding all I could out of the heater, cable, and microwave, I was living comfortably until my bills had come. Of course, not being able to play, I was able to grab a few objects and survive for three days comfortably on the street. I wasn't begging yet. I'm sure it would come.
Sighing as I ran my long fingers through my brown curls, I almost winced when I felt the tangles. I stood up and decided to find something to do. I took out my wallet and flipped it open. Only six dollars left. Did I really blow that much cash in a week? I'm starting to appreciate my flat a lot more. Of course, that's long gone. So is the TV, the fridge, the lounge chair, the list goes on. It wasn't that great of a place, but right now anything sounds better than what I'm doing now. I packed everything up into the sleeping bag, rolled it up and stuck it in the empty crevice between the building and some loose bricks.
I stood up, brushed off my blue jeans and gray sweatshirt, and walked out into the street. There was something else different besides the cinnamon bread. It sat on the corner standing out against the gray of post-winter. Something blue. Almost like a box, but large enough to fit two people comfortably. Curiosity got the better of me and I walked towards it. All thoughts of danger flew from my groggy mind. As I got closer, I could read the signs on the box. I tried to put pieces together in my mind. I must have truly been out of it. Not a morning person. Of course, is that any excuse for knocking on the door?
I didn't knock on the door. At least, the sensation of banging my knuckles on a wooden surface never came. Instead I found my hand frozen in the air and a tall figure staring at me from the doorway.
"Hello!" His unreadable expression turned into a goofy grin. I felt like I've seen his face. Maybe he just looks like an actor.
"Uh… um- uh," was all I could work out. What was wrong with me today? I'm a twenty-five-year-old woman and all I could come up with is 'uh… um- uh'!
"Do you need something?" He asked as he scratched the back of his head, taking in my grubby appearance.
"Do you mean as of this moment or in the general sense?"
"Either, really. I'm here to help!"
"Well," I stuck my hands in my sweatshirt pocket, "Unless this little blue box of yours has a shower or a stove, I don't think you'd be much help."
"Hallway to left. First door on the right!" He smiled again and stepped aside. I gasped and slapped a hand over my mouth. It-it was HUGE! I cautiously took a step inside to make sure it wasn't an illusion. I stuck my hands out in front of me as I turned to the left. The man was still standing there.
"Come on, this way," He motioned for me to follow him. Before I did, I stopped and looked around. There was machinery in the center of the room, and the walls were definitely not normal.
"What is this thing?" I asked and no sooner had I said that, the whole room lurched.
"Oh, I wouldn't call her a thing. She has a mind of her own sometimes. She's a beauty isn't she? Welcome to the TARDIS."
"The… TARDIS…" I echoed softly as I began to follow him into the small alcove containing three doors, "And who does that make you?"
"Me? I'm the Doctor," he held open the nearest door- the one on the right- and I peeked inside. It was a fully functional toilet room.
"Oh. My. God," I whispered, "How is this even possible?"
In the silence that followed, I noticed something. A soft hum. It came from everywhere and echoed off the walls. I was starting to get an eerie feeling about this.
"You know, I don't really need a shower that much. I think I'll just be on my way," finally something sensible that came out of my mouth. But he was gone. The door shut behind me and I found myself in the good-sized bathroom alone. I looked at the shower curtain. Tidbits of various horror movies spun into my mind. I grabbed the extra roll of toilet tissue on the floor and grasped it over my head in a fighting stance. As quickly as I could, I pulled back the shower curtain.
Nothing was there, but a rack of various shampoos and soaps. I released the breath I had been holding and dumped the toilet paper back onto the ground.
A quick shower, wouldn't hurt, would it? And with that I stripped and stepped into under the stream of warm water. How does this thing even have indoor plumbing? There was another lurch, but this time more violent. I shoved the handle down on the shower, while the walls shook violently. I grabbed one of the towels hanging on a rack and wrapped it around me. A few curse words escaped my lips.
I ran into the main room with the buttons and saw the Doctor holding on to a bit of railing.
"What the hell is going on?" I shouted to him over the noise.
"No idea, she's never gone off on her own with people inside!"
"What do you mean you don't know? I just came in for a shower and maybe some food if you would be so hospitable, but if this is some sort of a prank-"
"Oh, this is not a prank. Something's the matter with her. And this isn't just an earthquake, she moving. Actually landing, I should say."
"What does that mean?"
"I didn't quite catch your name. What did you say it was?"
"I didn't!"
"Well, now would be a good time to," he shouted back, but there was no need. The shaking began to stop and the noise quieted down.
"Lark. Lark Woodside… I'm going to put some clothes on."
River Song and Jim the Fish in next chapter, 'kay? Here's the main introduction of character. Sorry if it's going slowly, but aduh it's the beginning. I hope by the end of the story Lark will teach you many things. The first being that toilet paper is an excellent weapon. Just you wait.