This is my first work of fanfiction. Kind of weird that I, you know, used a TV show, but I do love Dr. Who. Please enjoy-this is the first chapter and subject to editing, but I have the whole plot generally written out in my head. Thus, this part will be confusing, but I am going somewhere with it.
Happy Reading.
~Lulu
P.S. I'm American, so the spelling and most of the dialect will probably be American. I'm trying really hard to make the characters' lines sound like their own, though, so just think of Matt Smith (long live his hotness) and Karen Gillan actually saying them, in their own accents and little gestures, as though it's just another episode. That's what I did.
Through the matter of time and space, beyond every hazy galaxy, past the moon, sun, and stars…
…lay a small town called Leadworth on planet Earth, as it may.
Its tiny parish, post office, fire station, and hospital were the only public services available. There was one small-circulating newspaper, the Leadworth Chronicle, and the recent addition of a dismal dress shop ten minutes away. The crop field nearby had not been touched. This was "present" time, year 2012.
In the dress shop, standing near the dingy windows, was the Doctor.
He stared impassively out the glass, hands clasped behind his back. What his thoughts were, no one could tell. Yet who will ever be able to?
"Doctor!" came a call. Abruptly, the Doctor turned. The voice belonged to Amy Pond, whose crimson hair flew as she bustled toward the front of the store. "What do you think of this?" she asked brightly. The Doctor's eyes flickered over Amy's dress.
For one moment, there was a look in them: sudden, flint-hard, and not unlike grief.
Then it was gone, and his mouth began to move. "The cut is nice, but more so on a less endowed woman than yourself. Now," he raised his eyebrows at Amy's indignant exclamation, "that's not to say you don't have a beautiful body. Oh, Amy, Amy…" The Doctor trailed off, then snapped back. "Amy, Amy. Don't feel inferior, you've a wonderful husband at home—well, not quite at home, as you two don't exactly have a traditional house. But he is at your mother-in-law's home, and—"
"Oh, Doctor, stop talking," Amy snapped and turned, with a rustle of skirts, to clack her way back to the fitting rooms.
Smiling wryly, the Doctor continued, louder. "Say, why do you need a dress anyhow? Have you an event?"
Amy shouted back, "You know very well that we're doing this so I don't have to go see Rory's mum. That woman…" Her words were reduced to mumbling and curses. She yanked at the curtain and there were sounds of clothes being shed aggressively.
The Doctor stood quite still, then he leaned against the door of the shop, crossing his arms, and laughed once.
The expression on his face was sad.
Amy Pond shoved her arms into her shirt, ducked her head, and pushed her sleeves up as the blouse settled. Her green eyes sparkled with content, but she had to save face in front of her Doctor.
Amy stalked out of the fitting room, her jacket over her arm. "That bloody woman, sending me the ugliest vase in history as a wedding present! Glad I 'lost' it. I suppose if she knew, she'd… Why are you looking at me like that?" Amy asked suspiciously. She crossed her own arms, to mimic the Doctor's stance.
The Doctor still had a curious expression on his face, hard to interpret. Amy's brows collided in an effort to understand the his demeanor.
His features smoothened. "Shall we go?" he inquired. "Or would you rather try on something else—a coat, for instance?" He gestured to a rack.
Instinctively, Amy's head turned to follow the Doctor's gaze. "No, I—wait, I do like those." Amy said, surprised. She grinned, looked back at the Doctor, and moved to run her hand over the jackets. The Doctor watched her, his face stony and tense now that Amy could not see him.
"Oh, I like this one," said Amy. The Doctor's eyes roved up and down her body, and he offered her a smile, putting his hands in his pockets. "I'm afraid fashion is not my best field of knowledge," he replied.
Amy jutted her chin out and put her hands in her pockets as well.
The Doctor arched his eyebrows in confusion.
She raised hers accordingly.
"Are you copying me?" asked the Doctor, bemused.
"Are you copying me?" imitated Amy.
The Doctor sighed, exasperated. He grabbed Amy by her hood and dragged her to the lone register, ignoring her protesting. Ringing the bell at the counter, he released his hold. He stood impatiently, while Amy fidgeted with her coat and grumbled.
Presently, a man came waddling from the back room. He narrowed his squinty blue eyes at the Doctor and his companion, and blew out a breath from under his white mustache.
"Amy, take off the jacket," said the Doctor sharply. Silently, Amy slid out of the coat, shooting wary looks at the cashier.
"Have you got any money," said the Doctor to the air.
"Yes." Amy did not take her eyes off the man behind the register, but rooted through her purse with one hand.
The man behind the register spoke. "Back in my day, the men paid."
Amy bit her lip, finally withdrawing her wallet.
The man continued, heaving himself onto a small stool by the register counter. "'S a ruin, these days. Equal righ's for women's a fine cause, but I reckon that, fo' men, 's jus' an excuse, now."
Amy interrupted tersely. "How much?"
The man fixed her with an intense look. After a time, he nodded knowingly. "'S fo'teen pounds."
Slapping the money down on the counter, Amy grabbed her jacket and the Doctor's elbow. "Thanks."
The pale, watery eyes of the man watched Amy tug the Doctor through the door.
Outside, Amy confronted the Doctor. "Okay, what was wrong with him?"
The Doctor blinked, seeming to be taken aback. "Wrong? What do you mean, wrong?"
"You know," Amy said, exasperated, "Was he human?"
The Doctor's lips quirked up. After an amused look towards the horizon, he replied, "Yes, he was human. There was nothing out of the ordinary about that man, Amy." He turned his feet in the direction of the road.
Amy hurried to catch up. "Are you hiding something? Why did you act so oddly around him, then?"
Abruptly, the Doctor halted in his steps. He looked at Amy for a long moment. "Odd?" he repeated finally. "Odd. My dear Pond, I acted no more oddly today than ever. Do I act odd usually?"
"Well-"
"Seems as though we are getting a bit paranoid, love." The Doctor began walking again.
Bristling, Amy fell into step beside him.
The Doctor said lightly, "There was nothing, ah, 'wrong' with that man, I am not acting odd, and now you own a brand new coat. Life is going well for you today, yes?"
Amy held a dignified silence before imitating him in a high-pitched, pompous voice.
The Doctor laughed. "You're in a right good mood today, Pond."
Bright again, Amy responded, "I am. It's nice to be home, even if it took a long time to get here."
After a moment, the Doctor murmured, "True, very true."
Amy went on. "Actually, this jacket will come in very handy," she remarked, her breath steaming up the cold air. "It has pockets."
"Pockets?" said the Doctor absently.
"I'll be able to hold many things in all these pockets," she continued, "which will be nice once we're visiting other planets and that, on the TARDIS, again." She smiled while speaking.
"…yes. It will be good to be back on the TARDIS," echoed the Doctor.
"With you and I and Rory once more," prompted Amy.
The Doctor's eyes flickered, though he was seeing something very far away; perhaps in the future. "Yes."
The two strolled along through the chilly fog.
Mysterious acting on the Doctor's part, yeah? Well, I'd like a good two reviews on this before continuing. I mean, I'll still write the story on my own, but I won't submit till I get those reviews! Thanks :) Tell me what you genuinely think!
~Lulu