A/N: Beta'd by blucougar57.

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City of Night

Silence encompassed the city of Paris, the pigeons overlooking the city from above. Perching from the buildings, their eyes scouting the streets. Heavy footsteps echoed from down the alleyway as small eyes located the source of the noise.

Estée could feel that she was being watched. Eyes glistened high above, looking down at her, watching her every move. Her blue dress swaying in the midnight's breeze as the moonlight shone upon it. The city was dangerous at night, especially for women. All over the city there were reports of Women disappearing in the middle of the night without a trace. The police sent out letters insisting that all Women stay inside after dark, but still they went missing.

Estée picked up her pace; she should have been home hours ago. But she had gotten caught up with her painting at the College. After hours of trying to decipher the feel of the painting, she finally thought of the perfect name, Rose Red. It pictured a woman holding her child in a garden completely surrounded by roses. As an artist you learn to bring your pictures to life. You can make a person cry, laugh even angry. It's about how you express yourself inside the painting, behind the painting; the truth is in the detail.

Terrifying screeches filled the night air as if from a monster. Estée turned the corner heading down another alleyway. The noises grew closer, something was prowling the sky. A sudden loud crash caused Estée to jump; a couple of bricks had smashed onto the ground from the rooftops above. Pigeons scattered in all directions as a large figure swooped down from the sky heading straight towards Estée.

She ran faster down the alley as the figure drew closer towards her, its yellow eyes shining like beacons calling to her. Her house has just around the next corner; she could see the yellow mosaic roof. The creature was riding on the wind, its left wing colliding into a chimney causing dust and bits of stone to fall all over Estée. She reached her house, searching in her pockets frantically for the key but only had enough time to touch the silver piece of metal. A stone hand slashed at the door leaving a claw mark imprinted on the wooden door.

Estée screamed at the top of her lungs as the monster picked her up in its hands and flew into the night.

* * *

The next day, on the other side of the city, scrubby weeds struggling through the cracks in the paving stones began to stir as a sudden breeze appeared out of nowhere. A wild noise reverberated from the stone walls of the alleyway and the buildings around it. The noise became a wheezing and groaning sound building to a crescendo as a blue light flashed about two meters off the ground, under it surged a blue box out of existence from nowhere.

No one saw the TARDIS arrive in the narrow alley except for a few pigeons overhead which flew for their life's when the doors of the strange blue box sprang open.

"Paris, I've always wanted to go to Paris," the Doctor said as he became aware of his surroundings.

Putting his hands in his pockets the Doctor strode down the alleyway into the main street. He determined it was approximately 11:38am, taking into account the positioning of the sun and the latitude and longitude. The bells of Notre Dame chimed in the distance, the beautiful melody of the towers as if they were singing.

"Okay, maybe a little later than I thought. God, I'm getting old, and that's saying something," he said to himself as a horse and carriage went past. Across the street was the Collège de Sorbonne, one of the very first Colleges in Paris.

"Aww, you are beautiful!" the Doctor remarked, gob-smacked at the building. "No, really, you are beautiful. And when I say beautiful, I really mean you are really beautiful."

People were staring at the Doctor now as they walked past, but he was oblivious to the attention, so enthralled was he with the structure before him. The Doctor walked across the street, which was extremely empty for Paris, especially for this millennium. It should have been thriving by now; it was about 1827 according to the TARDIS when he landed.

The entrance to the College was like a giant arc of marble. After all his years of travelling, the human race never ceased to amaze the Doctor. As he entered the College the first thing to catch his eye was a painting on a wall. Obviously it had just been completed. He could smell the varnish, along with the petroleum, isopropyl and methylene chloride with a hint of olive. Underneath the painting was a brass plaque. 'Rose Red' by Estée Basset.

"Amazing..."

The Doctor gawped at the painting. It detailed a woman with her child, though there was something in the painting he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"It really is amazing isn't it," said a young woman from behind the Doctor. Her hair was as black as the night sky, her eyes stood out more than the rest of her body. One was green, while the other was blue. "I'm so sorry, I've forgotten my manners. My name is Ariane. Ariane Sommer."

She stretched out her hand to shake his.

"Hello Ariane, I'm the Doctor."

He grasped her hand and shook it.

She stared at him for a second.

"The Doctor? You're called the Doctor?"

"Yes, the Doctor," he said cheerfully.

"Don't you have a name?" Ariane asked again, still confused.

"No. Just the Doctor," he announced with a finality that stopped her from pushing the subject any further.

Ariane couldn't help but notice that the man was remarkably tall and thin, with dark, spiky hair with darting eyes. His clothes were very strange and unusual, nothing from what she had seen before. He wore a dark brown suit with blue stripes with a black cloth underneath in a style that she had never seen before. His shoes were very strange; they were not the typical shoes she had seen men wear around Paris. Obviously he was a long way from home.

The Doctor turned back to the painting and examined it more closely, his enthusiasm giving Ariane the impression of a child with a new toy.

"It really is remarkable; do you know who painted it? I'd really like to meet them."

"As a matter of fact, I do, but she hasn't turned up today at the College. She was supposed to meet me this morning but she never turned up. I sincerely hope she's all right..."

Ariane gazed at the painting also, her worry reflecting on her face.

"What do you mean 'hope'? I'm sure she's fine, just late. After all this is Paris, the city of love. Who wouldn't want to live here? I mean, the music, the art, the drama, the architecture... All of it's enough to keep you distracted for a lifetime. Everything happens in Paris."

Ariane just stared at the Doctor; he was certainly the strangest man she had ever met. He answered her baffled look with a bright grin.

"Oh, sorry," he apologized, brushing his hand through his hair. "Am I being rude? I seem to have this problem with not knowing when to stop talking."

"Yes, I have noticed."

She giggled but her face turned more serious after a few seconds.

"The truth is, Doctor, there have been a few disappearances the last few months. Women just disappear in the night, not to be seen or heard of again. The police are saying it's a serial killer stalking women, but I don't believe it is. If it is a serial killer, as they say, then where are the bodies?"

"You're right, that is strange. You know, that's the first intelligent question I've heard for a while," said the Doctor with a wide grin. "You know what, if you'd like, I'll gladly help you find Estée, and the perfect place to start looking for someone is to find where she last was. We should try her house first. Care to join me?"

Should she trust this stranger? After all, she had only just met him, but something in his eyes said that she could trust him. Her entire life she had wanted to join the gendarme, but only men could work. Women were expected to stay home and cook for their husbands and clean. That wasn't the life for her, it never would be.

"Yes, Doctor. I'd love to come," she answered finally, with an eagerness that she couldn't hope to conceal, and nor did she care to try. Then, in a more serious tone, "I have one question for you, though, sir. Do you believe in monsters?"

"Do I believe in monsters?" the Doctor laughed. "Do I believe in monsters?" he grinned. "Oh, you have no idea."

* * *

"So what do you think of Paris, Doctor?" Ariane questioned the Doctor as they walked down the street, heading towards Estée's house.

"How do you know I'm not from around here? I thought I fit very well with the current status quo. Though then again, that's what I thought a couple of weeks ago in Greece. Nearly ended up getting hunted down by a Slitheen."

"If you'll forgive my impudence, you don't sound like anyone from Paris. You talk as if you're from another world..."

"Well, now that you mention it..." he tried to interrupt, but she didn't hear him.

"And your clothes are like nothing I've ever seen. So who are you, Doctor?"

She paused to allow him to talk. He stared at her intently, one eyebrow raised, while he decided whether or not to tell her the truth. Finally, he decided to take a chance.

"I'm an alien," he said, on the one hand hoping that she wouldn't panic, and on the other hoping furiously that she wouldn't just laugh at him. He was relieved when she did neither.

"I did rather work that out on my own," she said, surprising him with her calm reaction. "Let's get going, then. We have to find Estée."

She turned away and continued walking down the street turning down an alleyway.

The Doctor studied Ariane curiously as they walked. She was a very complex person. He could tell something was troubling her, and yet she appeared calm about everything. Even the revelation of his not being from Earth had failed to ruffle her. Now, if it were maybe two hundred years later, he would have expected such a calm reaction. But in the 1800's, people tended to believe in witches and black magic. Anything even remotely supernatural more often than not tended to generate panic and hysteria.

There was something different about Ariane, though, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Just like he couldn't put his finger on that painting. Weird things were going on in Paris and, just like always, the Doctor had found his way slap-bang into the middle of it.

This is my first and foremost story based on Doctor Who. I am intending to try and complete this story, as I have a tendency to quit writing as no one seems to read my storys. If you could, would you please take a few seconds of your time to review this as reviews give me the energy to write. The charcter Ariane is my creation. I have not stolen it so please do not use it. I am hoping that this story will reach a minimum of 50,000 words. I do not own Doctor Who or any of it's creations much to my dismay.