No one noticed the strange man as he walked into the café. Mr. So-and-so didn't look up from his copy of the Times and cup of Earl Grey, and Ms. Something-or-another busily typed away on her laptop while her latte grew cold.
In a café, on a busy London street, in a city of over eight million people, the mysterious man could not help but feel alone.
Arthur, the twenty-something-year-old barista was preoccupied with his mobile. "What can I get you?" he asked without looking up.
The man made no answer, but stared, lost in thought, at the assortment of pastries and biscuits in the glass display cases. He was a universe away. He licked his lips, and opened his dry mouth, but no sound came out. He thought better of it and closed it again. He looked so sad and lost, and completely alone.
Arthur looked up from his text to his girlfriend, and caught the man's eyes.
"How may I help you?" he asked quickly, putting his mobile down on the counter.
The man seemed to deflate under his gaze; even his bowtie seemed to droop.
"…I'm not…. I'm not so sure you can," he said finally, "…but…thank you, for asking."
Humans. Always looking to help.
Arthur looked extremely confused. "Coffee? Tea? Anything to eat?"
The man seemed to recollect himself. "Ah, right. An Earth café. That's how it works… we, order…things…."
He trailed off, brushed his mad brown fringe aside, and looked about him like a lost puppy.
"I'll have…er…one of chocolate biscuit…things, and a cup of tea, please…the stronger the better."
He pulled out a five-pound note, which he started at in his palm, as if he'd never seen it before.
"It's a rather good picture of Ol' Betty, isn't it?" he asked Arthur, attempting to make small talk. Arthur looked at him with a quizzical raised eyebrow. The man pointed to the money as he passed it into the barista's hands. He had a ghost of a smile on his face, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I met her once, you know. And her…what was it? Great-great-great-great-great grand mum, or something like that…"
Arthur didn't know what to make of him, whether to laugh or not. He settled for a somewhat patronizing half-smile, half grimace.
He passed the man his change, his tea, and a paper bag containing his biscuits.
The man stood there a bit longer, then, adjusting his brown tweed jacket, looked about him once more. With a nod to Arthur, who had returned his attention to his mobile, the man slipped out of the door.
The weather had gotten colder, and the wind had picked up a bit, but the man seemed indifferent to the cold. Aimlessly, he wandered the streets, lost in his thoughts. He wove his way through crowds of people dashing about from place to place, around a group of tourists idly staring at a map and looking confused.
He let his feet lead the way, his mind too preoccupied with the past, and his heart too heavy with loss and loneliness to notice or care.
Eventually, his feet brought him to a run-down playground, deserted.
Great, he thought to himself, sarcastically. This doesn't remind me of anything at all…nothing helps you remember the demons of your past quite like an old deserted playground…
He made his way over to the old swing set, and approached the only not-broken swing. The rusty chains squeaked loudly as it took his weight. Not that I'm particularly heavy, he thought looking down at his thin frame… how did she word it? "He is too skinny for words. You give him a hug, you get a paper cut!" There was no need to remind himself who she was… like he could ever forget her, or any of the other brilliant, wonderful people he travelled with. Like he'd ever forget Amy and Rory… and now, they were gone, they were all gone, and it was his fault…and –but he stopped himself before he could think along those lines any more. That was a dangerous train of thoughts.
Perhaps the swing felt the enormity of his sadness, his guilt, and the weight of the world on his shoulders?
He sighed, and slumped forward, looking down at his scuffed shoes. He idly pushed the ground with his right toe, to get the swing moving just slightly.
He took a sip of his tea, and then looked up feeling eyes upon him.
Almost deserted. A little girl sat, huddled, under the nearest slide. She couldn't have been older that Amy had been when he had first met her. She was dressed in her school uniform, her navy blue jumper rumpled from her awkward position, books and bag clutched protectively to her small body, and mousy brown hair windswept and slipping out of messy braids.
She realised that he had caught her staring, and she blushed, tear-stained eyes wide beneath her black plastic glasses, she looked down quickly to her books and pretended not to have noticed him.
"Hello there!" said the man, more cheerfully than he felt inside, "aren't you uncomfortable under there? Would you rather sit on the swings? It's very good for reading and thinking…"
Her little head popped out from behind the swing. The man stood and walked over to the fence separating out the swings from the playground. Something about the girl intrigued him. For the second he had seen her eyes, he felt he had found someone who felt as lonely as he did. And he didn't like it, not one bit. No child should feel so alone.
"I'm the Doctor. What's your name?"
"…Olivia," she said softly, with some hesitation, then "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."
"I'm not a stranger, I'm the Doctor!" he replied, crouching down to her eye level. She smiled.
"Would you like the swing?" He asked, indicating where he had been sitting.
She nodded, and made her way over to the swing. The Doctor reached into his pocket for a metal device, and pointed it to the swing beside her. The broken metal link repaired itself.
"Brilliant!" exclaimed Olivia, her voice full of wonder, "How did you do that!? Are you magic?"
"Nah, I fixed the swing with this, my sonic screwdriver. It's a thing… that does things! And I'm not magic…I'm an alien."
"Wicked!" said Olivia wistfully…. "I'm just a boring human."
"Not at all!" said the Doctor.
"The other kids think I'm boring. They make fun of me for reading all the time, for being shy. They don't think I'm worth their time."
"That's just absurd! I love humans. Humans are incredible! And in all my time of travelling the universe and all of time, I've never met a single person who was unimportant. You are absolutely brilliant, and so very, very human. And just so you know, all of my very best friends have been human!"
"Can I meet your friends?"
The Doctor looked sad. "Well, not really. They've all gone away. I'm all alone now."
Olivia looked down. "I'm sorry," she said softly "I'm all alone too. I don't have any friends."
"Well, that's not right is it?"
"No, it's not."
The Doctor pulled the pack of biscuits from yet another pocket. "Would you like one? I just bought a pack of biscuits, and biscuits are always more fun when you can share them with friends!"
Olivia took a biscuit and smiled. "Can I really be your friend?"
"If you'd like to be."
"I'd like that very much, thank you."
The Doctor beamed. They ate their biscuits together and shared stories. Olivia spoke of her parents, her cat, and the books she loved the most. The Doctor shared some stories of his favourite adventures, the very best times he had with his friends.
The afternoon passed rather quickly.
Soon enough, Olivia glanced at her watch and said, "I'm afraid I'd better head home. My mum should be home from work soon."
"Of course," said the Doctor. "It was really wonderful to meet you, Olivia."
He smiled warmly, and this time, his smile reached his eyes. He reached into yet another pocket and pulled out his emergency fez; one that he always kept on his person, (just in case he should find himself in a "cool situation" that required a little more coolness than just his bowtie alone could manage.)
"I'd like you to have this, Olivia. This is a fez, and fezzes are very cool. And you are very cool, so, it's only logical that you ought to have this."
Olivia beamed. "Thank you so much!" She reached into her bag, and took out a drawing. She handed it to him. "I made this in art class today. It's a drawing from my favourite book ever, The Little Prince. You remind me a lot of the book. I'd like you to have it. It's a beautiful story…"
The Doctor grinned like a two-year-old, "This is the most brilliant thing ever!"
They shook hands. "It was great to meet you Doctor."
"Olivia, don't let what the other kids say get to you. You are brilliant, and you're going to meet brilliant people in your life, and you've got your parents, and Whiskers, and books…books are the very best of friends… you're not alone, never completely alone."
Olivia smiled. "Thank you for everything Doctor. Will I ever see you again?"
"Perhaps. Perhaps in the future, we'll bump into one another again. And until then, remember you've got a friend who travels the stars, and thinks that you are the coolest."
The Doctor and Olivia parted ways, Olivia to her home, and the Doctor back to the TARDIS. At the gate, Olivia paused, and turned to look back at the Doctor.
"Doctor!" she called urgently. He spun around and looked back at her.
"You have so many friends. And though they're not with you, or though they may not remember you, they still love you a lot, and you'll always have that. And you'll always have the chance to make new friends…you met me today! Who knows whom you'll meet tomorrow. You are not alone."
The Doctor jumped at her words. They rang through his mind, through his hearts, through his memories, and he felt incredibly light. "You are not alone."
"Thank you, Olivia… for…for everything." He said. His glistened slightly, with human-y happy tears. She smiled and nodded.
And the two unlikely friends departed, each their separate way, feeling more hopeful and happy.
The Doctor paused at the TARDIS door, now unlocked. He placed his hand on the blue door, and felt the texture and the hum of life under his fingers. He passed through the door, pausing to look about him, a smile on his face.
"Thanks, you sexy thing," he said. One of the screens lit up. He laughed quietly.
"Of course. I'll always have you…I'm sorry I lost sight of that. Madman and his box, exploring all of time and space…."
He closed the door behind him, taped Olivia's drawing to the wall, and spun around.
"Let's go then, Sexy. Where to now? I'll let you pick, since you've been so nice today." The thing-a-ma-jiggery on the what-do-you-call-it chirped once.
He laughed loudly, then. "Of course, dear" he said, and pushed the big red button. With a "vworp vworp" (his favourite sound in all of time and space, if he does say so himself), they were off to see the stars.