Title: Musically Inclined

Author: Bluehaven4220

Summary: The Doctor, Jamie, and new companion Bridget meet at a time when all three are questioning their role in life and the universe. Traveling with the Doctor is an experience unlike any other, and it isn't long before Jamie begins to fall for Bridget, and vice versa. But with their pasts being so complicated, can they make it work?

A/N: Hello everyone! I've decided to try my hand at writing a Doctor Who story, and would appreciate ANY sort of feedback you can offer. Constructive criticism is most definitely welcome, but flames will be used to toast marshmallows and make smores. Allons-y!

ooOoo

How many times can I break till I shatter? Over the line can't define what I'm after, I always, turn the car around. Give me a break, let me make my own pattern, all that it takes is some time but I'm shattered. I always, turn the car around.

Shattered (Turn the Car Around)- O.A.R.

ooOoo

I gave up on love when I was nineteen years old. I know, I know, everyone said that nineteen was far too young an age to be jaded, that I needed to go out and experience the world, that I needed to get my heart broken more than twice for me to be jaded. But they didn't know, they didn't understand, and really, they never would.

I was absolutely certain that I was going to be alone for the rest of my life, and I was content with that. Really, I was. I was going to finish school (I was two years into a Bachelor's Degree in Communication), get a job, and raise begonias until I became an old maid, yelling at the TV for not telling the truth. Sure, I had plenty of friends, and I enjoyed my time with them immensely (there wasn't a day that went by that we didn't laugh at each other for some obscure reason), but really, none of them were boyfriend material, and they didn't consider me girlfriend material. We had more of a brother/sister relationship.

And then I met you. Oh yes, it had to be you. I still remember how it happened. I was walking home from school with my earphones in my ears, and you were sitting on a bench that I stopped near. I knelt down to fix my shoe, and you watched me do it. I noticed your sly smile as I picked myself back up and retied the laces while resting my foot on the end of the bench itself.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Oh nothing, nothing," you said quietly. I rolled my eyes at you and didn't think anything of it and continued on my way. But the next morning you were standing near my front door. I didn't know why and I didn't know how you'd found out where I lived, but there was something in your demeanor that told me I could trust you. You weren't threatening, in truth it felt as though I'd seen you before.

The same cycle repeated the next day, but this time you were standing near a blue box. A 1950s police box no less, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. And I let my curiosity get the best of me. I shouldn't have, I really really shouldn't have, but I did, and here we are. Four years later and I'm still traveling with you.

But I've got to go now; I really have to go. But please don't think I'm not grateful for the time we've spent together and the places you've taken me to. God, it's been wonderful. I'd never have danced with Jamie at a celebratory dinner after the Battle of Culloden or met my great- great grandmother any other way. That's not to say that meeting the Cybermen or the Sontarans or the Yeti were anything to tell one's mother about, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. I wish I could stay, because this is so hard on both of us, but if I don't go now I'll never be able to.

It wasn't just the adventures, believe me, it wasn't. The adventures aren't the only thing I'll take away from this. When I first met you I was angry and upset, and I'd been holding on to that anger for more than three years, and I'd shut out (or thought I'd shut out) any possibility of loving anyone else. My own mother had once told me that I had no love or kindness in me at all, and I was beginning to think she was right. She bloody well was, I'll give her that. But that was all until I met you. You helped me to heal, and love again. Oh please don't think it was you I fell in love with, certainly not. Time Lord and human… no. No, no, no that just doesn't work. Believe it or not, it was Jamie. That red blooded Scot in a kilt who always treated me like a princess, holding open doors for me, holding me to him when we were in danger, willing to step in front of me to defend my honour. In all honesty I'd forgotten that men like him used to exist. Now a days all the young men I've ever run into only think with their dicks, hoping to bed as many girls as they can before the week is out.

But I digress. Jamie later told me in no uncertain terms that he was also in love with me, even though I was 'a hard lass t' contain, and feisty as all hell. Can nae think of anyone better t' keep me on me toes'. As far as I know I'd done absolutely nothing to warrant this sort of affection. But who am I to argue? Maybe I was just born in the wrong century and was meant to find this one Scot. He says he "can nae give me the universe, but he'll damn well nae stop tryin'". He's asked me to marry him, and I want to say yes, but I can't bare the thought of knowing that one day he'll have to return to his own time, and me to mine. Otherwise it will upset the Timestream, as you've so often told us. Truth be told I don't want to go back to where I came from. I want adventure, I want love, and I'll have that with Jamie. Is there any way this is possible?

By the time you read this, I'll probably be packed and ready to go, because I know we should do this properly. But before I stop writing, let me just say that I'll never forget what you've done for me, and I'll most certainly never forget you.

All my love,

Bridget Leila Grey

ooOoo

He smiled. It was a sad smile, but one nonetheless. It would hurt to let her go, just as it hurt to let the others go, he knew. He'd seen it when they first arrived after the battle. Jamie had helped to clear away the bodies, and then had gone home. You picked up and went on with life; that was just the done thing.

How Jamie and Bridget had met was actually difficult to explain. It had been just after the whole mess in San Francisco, and Grace had stayed behind. Once he got the TARDIS going again, he drifted until he landed near a pathway. It was near the edge of a city called Ottawa, and it was a dreadfully cold day. She'd been walking by with her earphones in her ears, listening to a song about turning the car around, and blowing on her fingers for warmth through her 'poor boy' mitts. But he realized that 'turn the car around' meant so much more than just turning a car around. It meant going back to the person you love, forgiving them for what they may have done. When he first met her he realized that she didn't really believe the song's lyrics. She was angry, and sad, he could see her heart had been broken, and she was trying to pick up the pieces and move on. The only problem was, she'd given up, he could see just by looking in her eyes she wasn't ready to forgive and she certainly wasn't going to open her heart up again any time soon.

When he'd asked her to join him on his travels, she hadn't hesitated. She was stuck, and she'd been stuck for a very long time. Frankly, she admitted to him later, she was bored, and wanted nothing more than to just disappear and see another part of the world. But it was Jamie who met her first.

She'd been walking along the edge of the Canal on the concrete that was situated above the pavement. It was coated in a layer of ice, so the concrete seemed the better alternative. Unfortunately black ice chose that moment to make itself known, and she slipped, landing on her side and in the 3 inches of water that lay below.

"Och, over there!" he'd shouted, and he'd lifted her head out of the water. Resting her head on his lap for a moment, he called for him again. "Come on, we've got to get her inside. She's chilled t' the bone."

"Yes of course, um…" he fished in his pocket for a key, ran back to unlock the TARDIS. Running back to Jamie and the girl, he helped her to stand, draping her arm around his shoulder, Jamie doing the same to her other arm, and helping to get her inside. They immediately took her to the medical bay, and wrapped her in warmed blankets, packing hot water bottles along her sides.

"What's her name?"

"Didnae check, Doctor," he admitted.

"Well did you look in her backpack? Maybe her pockets?"

"I cannae go lookin' in a lady's satchel. Is not right."

"Oh fine, I'll do it then," he bent down and sifted through her books, finally finding her wallet hidden at the bottom. Undoing the snap, he found her student card. "Oh okay, this says her name is Bridget Grey, and she's a university student. Studying communication and history. Well good for her."

Jamie was barely paying attention, stroking her hair out of her face. "What would she be doing out dressed like that?"

"Well it's 15 degrees below freezing and Ottawa is always cold during the winter months. What did you expect her to be wearing?"

"I don't know, something more than just the jacket an' mitts that don't cover her fingers!" he answered. "I meant, what would she be doing out so close to supper?"

"She may have just been out for a walk. Not everyone eats at the same time," he explained. "Now, it may be a couple of hours before she comes around… perhaps you could sit with her in case she wakes up?"

"Oh but Doctor, I…"

He gave the young Scotsman a stern look.

"Oh alright," he hung his head and sat down in a chair beside the bed.

He was working through a children's version of Robin Hood when Bridget came to. She woke, stared at him for a few seconds, smiled, waved, and got up, grabbing her backpack and sticking her earphones back in her ears.

"Och, wait a minute, lassie!" Jamie called after her. "Ye can get lost in a place like this."

But she didn't respond. She turned right and surprisingly had found her way back to the console room. She'd stopped, her eyes darting from the Doctor back to the console back to Jamie.

"Hello," the Doctor smiled at her.

She gave a small smirk and a chuckle, and ran out of the TARDIS. They hadn't moved, except for getting out of the canal and up near the side of the road.

"Oi, come on!" Jamie muttered, sticking his head out the door to see which way she'd gone. "Doctor, can't we go after her?"

"We probably spooked her enough as it is," he answered, putting his hands on Jamie's shoulders and gently pulling him back inside the TARDIS. "If we're lucky we might see her again."

"How do you mean lucky?"

The Doctor held up her ID card. "She forgot this," he wriggled his eyebrows and placed it back in his pocket. Moving back to the console, he made them dematerialize and land right near her house. "Now, we'll stay here for the night and when we see her in the morning, we'll give it back and no harm done."

"Aye," he rolled his eyes and went off to bed.

It was nearing nine in the morning when she appeared, carrying a plastic box full of cardboard out to the curb. Jamie noticed she had the look of someone who hadn't slept well and was just waiting for the day to end as soon as it began. Her brows were knitted, and it looked like she was grinding her teeth.

He approached her, hearing "God damn it, next time they should fucking do it the night before. Making me do it all the time, I'm not a fucking maid!"

"Excuse me…"

"What!" she nearly yelled. Her eyes locked with his and hers lit up with recognition. "Oh Jesus, I'm sorry. Don't I know you?"

"Oh no, not really," he answered. "I'm James Robert McCrimmon."

"Nice to meet you, James Robert McCrimmon," she shook his offered hand. "I'm Bridget."

"Aye," he nodded. "I think this is yours."

"What's mine?"

He handed her the ID card.

"Oh my God, I thought I'd lost it!" she hugged him quickly, catching him off guard. "You just saved me around fifty bucks. God knows that's more money toward rent and food."

"Glad I could help, lassie."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she ran back, closed her front door, and ran past him, stopping to kiss his cheek. "I've got to go, but thank you so much!"

Jamie watched her run out of sight and walked back to the TARDIS. Closing the doors behind him, he saw the Doctor still working away underneath the console.

"Did she get her ID back?"

"Aye," was his only answer.

The Doctor knew it wasn't like Jamie to say so little. Wheeling himself out and still on his back, he tilted his head to stare at the young Scot.

"Why Jamie, you look slightly punch drunk…"

"Eh?"

"Dazed," he clarified.

"Oh, aye…"

"What happened?"

"She kissed me."

"Did she?" the Doctor chuckled. "Well that was nice of her."

"Are all people in 2010 like tha'?"

"Far from it, Jamie. Now a days people are more inclined to kill you as soon as they look at you."

"Doesn't sound so different from my time," he remarked.

"I'd still say you're lucky Bridget didn't maim you this morning."

"Eh?"

"Knock your teeth in," he clarified again.

"Why would she do that?" Jamie was flummoxed. Surely he hadn't done anything so deserving as a knock in the mouth so early in the morning.

"She's very angry, Jamie, and she has ample cause to be," he remarked from under the console, using the sonic screwdriver to reroute the wires and get the old girl running smoothly again. "Though I must say she hides it very well."

"Ha, ye didnae hear her cursing a blue streak when I first approached her," Jamie answered. "Every other word was another term for…"

"For?"

Jamie cleared his throat. His mother and father had always taught him to hold his tongue if push came to shove in regards to sex.

"Ah," the Doctor understood immediately. "Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of. But I can't tell you anything else. Might interfere with the Timestream."

"Isn't there something we can do to help?"

"Afraid not. If we run into her again, well then we're quite lucky. But now, however…" he set the TARDIS in motion and they dematerialized.

ooOoo

Yes, he wouldn't forget her. Bridget Grey had agreed to travel with them, because they had indeed seen her again. Only this time they'd found her along the side of the road, her clothes covered in dirt and her earphones still in her ears.

"Does she nae go anywhere without those things in 'er ears?"

"Guess it helps her relax."

"What're they for, anyway?"

"Music," the Doctor answered. "Now, she seems like she needs a hand. What do you say we help her out?"

"Aye."

So the two of them watched as Bridget finally stopped, out of breath, and sat down by the side of the road. She let out a hard sigh and rested her chin on her knees. As they approached, Jamie was sure she was ignoring the rest of the world, if only for that short amount of time.

"Bridget?" Jamie sat down beside her. It took her a few seconds before she acknowledged that she was not alone. She jumped a bit, her eyes wide. "It's alright, not here to hurt ye," he insisted. "Just thought you might need a bit of a hand."

"I'm fine," she protested, wiping a tear away with a knuckle. "Just a bit of a row, really. But I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," the Doctor sat on her other side.

"And who are you, then?"

"He's the Doctor," Jamie clarified. "And I'm Jamie, but I told you that already."

"People who are fine do not usually sit on the side of the road with cars whizzing by covered in dirt," the Doctor continued, putting an arm around her shoulder.

She flinched slightly, then relaxed. It had to be something to do with this Doctor bloke, she realized. Like she'd seen him before, like the songs her mother used to sing to get her to sleep at night. The songs about the Sandman and the Magic Man always being there to watch over her, back when things were fine between them.

"Like I said, t'was only a row," she told him. "My dad got wind about something I might've done. Nothing happened in either case, but nonetheless he got mad when I denied anything was amiss. Backhanded me and stuck his hand down my top so I spat in his face, told him to go fuck himself and here I am."

Jamie's eyes went wide. How could someone do that to their own daughter? Any loving parent kept their hands off their children, regardless of whether they had boys or girls. One thing was for sure, Jamie knew, that when he had his own children he'd never lay a hand on any of them, especially not in that manner. Where he was from you treated a lady with respect, and you did not touch her without her permission. He had enough sense for that at least.

He heard a drum beat a few moments later. "What's that?"

Bridget dug into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Rolling her eyes, she nudged the Doctor's arm off her shoulder and got up. Pressing the phone to her ear, she listened for barely a second before telling the person on the other end to 'go die a horrible and painful death', before shutting it off. Without another warning she flung her arm back and whipped the device clear across the road. It landed with a satisfying splash into the creek.

ooOoo

It was just after that incident that Bridget became a member of the TARDIS crew. And it took less than a week for her to warm up to the fact that they traveled through time and space. In fact, she said, it was something she'd always thought was impossible.

"Och, nothing's impossible, lass," Jamie told her over a mug of tea her first night on the TARDIS. "'Specially not with him."

"But who is he?"

"The Doctor."

"Yeah I know that, but a title is only a title. I could call myself the Virgin Mary if I wanted to and people would believe me," she saw Jamie nearly spit out his tea at such blasphemy. "What's his real name?"

"I don't know," Jamie confessed. "I sometimes wonder if he remembers, that's how old he is."

"He doesn't look a day over 45," she reasoned.

"Och, you should've seen him the first time I met him."

"You mean when he was younger."

"Aye, he looked like he does now," he explained. "Wore a top hat, didnae suit him if ye ask me, and he played a flute. Then I met him again and he was completely different. He'd grown about… well I don't know how much but it was a lot, and he had curly blond hair…"

"And he still looks the same now as when you first met him?" she smiled.

"Well he's a little older now, and I think I saw a few grey hairs. He's an old man."

"Oh dear God," she rolled her eyes, chuckling and feigning amazement. "Doctor!" she called over her shoulder.

He poked his head in the room. "Yes my dear?"

"Have you got grey hair?"

"A gentleman never tells," he chuckled. "And a lady never asks."

"That may be but I'm no lady," she reasoned. "Jamie reckons you do, but I don't believe him. I want to know for sure."

"Do I?" the Doctor pulled a mirror from his pocket and ran a hand through his hair. "Well I suppose I do. Nothing wrong with that. I think it's quite stylish."

"Jamie's right, Doctor," Bridget held up her hands in surrender and let them land on the table. "You're most definitely an old bugger."

"Hey now, no call for that kind of language," he smiled at her. "Do that again and I'll have to stick a bar of soap in your mouth."

"It's no use sparring with her, Doctor, you'll only end up losing." Jamie was smiling, as though feeling free to criticize the Doctor without fear of backlash. "She's right though, you are old."

"Please yourself. Are you needing anything else?"

"Yeah, uh… where are we going?"

The Doctor gave them a sly smile. "It's a surprise."

Bridget rolled her eyes and laid her head down on the table.