The silence of the morgue was not unusual. Molly, in fact, found it beautifully peaceful, being surrounded by the dead that she worked with was not an unnerving factor. Little did she know that not all of the corpses, lined up within their cabinets, had actually passed on.
Pulling out a 'Mr John Smith' with suspected heart failure, Molly's thoughts were hardly 100% focused upon her work, simple and routine, should take an hour at most. Unzipping and peeling back the deathly black of the body bag Molly noticed the body was still fully clothed, actually quite handsomely so; wearing a brown pinstripe suite, pale blue dress shirt and a tie of blue and brown, which Molly thought resembled the swirling of the Milky Way. His hair was in a quiff and jelled, but somehow still floppy, Molly couldn't help but notice his angular features, the maintained quirk of his lips and his slim physique.
"Well. Hello handsome." She liked to greet each of her new patients, knew that it was silly but, we all do silly things.
As the petite woman turned to carry over her sterile equipment tray, the man's piercing eyes snapped open. "And, hello to you too." He spoke in a bright voice; a slight smirk within his tone and upon his lips.
There was a crashing sound that resonated around the stunned silence of Molly Hooper, as she swerved around on her heels to face the man, with the cheek to be alive once pronounced otherwise. Although her eyes betrayed the small amount of fear she had, Molly's voice was uncharacteristically strong. "You're meant to be dead! Heart failure kills people! Dead! Oh…" Molly's head fell into her open palms, "the paperwork I'm going to have to do, and you know, there's no form for this…" Molly shook her head lightly then it shot up to meet his eyes. "You-" she poked the quizzical man in the centre of his chest rumpling his shirt and forcing him backward slightly, "-are causing me a literal mountain of paperwork! I have to create" poke "a new" poke "form" poke "for you!" double poke.
Glancing from her badge to the deep brown eyes that mirrored his own in their chocolate colour, the supposed 'John Smith' chuckled, "You-" it was now his turn to poke her, in the tender spot under her ribs, "- Miss Molly Hooper MD, have a very strange reaction to the living dead." Molly was now giggling as she rubbed at the ticklish spot the man had poked.
"I suppose you could say that, I've been there, done that, housed the result in secrecy until a criminal network was fully disbanded, although I never did get a t-shirt. So… how'd you fake yours?"
By now 'John Smith's' legs had swung over the side of the workbench and were dangling mid-air over the edge. Molly had moved to the more comfortable and inquisitive position of propping up her elbows on the counter next to him, and resting her head on her hands, her face now void of shock and shining with interest.
"I'll have you know, I faked nothing, the left heart did go into cardiac arrest and failed. All I needed were chilled conditions for the regeneration energy to promptly heal the left ventricle; and the TARDIS' fridge is actually smaller on the inside." Molly looked confused, and who wouldn't be? What on earth was a TARDIS? And why was this man shocked and looking somewhat appalled his fridge was smaller on the inside? All fridges are smaller on the inside! "And I'm The Doctor, thanks for asking." This 'Doctor' looked down at her affronted that she'd not asked of his name, but he still seemed to be buzzing with adrenaline filled excitement. Maybe that's just what happens when you rise from the dead?
"Oh, um, I'm sorry… I just assumed you were the John Smith on the records." The Doctor thrust out his hand for Molly to shake, a satisfied grin, showing off some impressive teeth, across his face. When she shook his hand, his other hand grasped around their already connected ones and shook her whole being.
Still amidst his and Molly's handshake The Doctor spoke at a quick pace that was somehow not rushed, "Yep-" his 'p' popped like the bubble gum Molly had a slight addiction too from the ages of 10-17, "-well… that's sort of me, yes; but it's like my alias, which I suppose The Doctor is too, but that's more of a nickname really." Halting his speech abruptly with the final jolt of the handshake, he hopped of the bench, his trainers squeaking against the linoleum floor.
He stalked around Molly, as if studying her. Looming over her with his gangly height and subtle intensity. "Hmmmm…" he stopped dead ahead of her, bending his skinny legs so that he was eye level, he continued "… I like you, Molly Hooper-" with an unusual emphasise put on the 'oopa' sound of her surname, Molly was easily charmed by this Doctor's fascinating voice; he sounded like adventure and excitement. "-You're spunky, you told me off for being alive due to the amounts of paperwork it would cause, and in just the right light, you're a little bit ginger… I've always wanted to be ginger!" a proud and devastatingly charming grin lit up his narrow features; that was until three successive flat handed hits landed upon his upper left arm.
"Oi, you… Spunky! No one says spunky… I am NOT spunky! I think we are past the paperwork now, don't you? And, I am not ginger, not even in the right light." Shocked by her outburst but still smiling The Doctor pulled Molly into a clumsy hug.
"I think you have proved just how spunky you are. Now. Hooper we must be off, plenty of running to be done; the Silurian or Sycorax or Sontarons, or something with an 's' is invading and we get to save the whole world… Oh, c'mon don't give me that look, so incredulous. Okay, I'll fill you in. I'm an alien, two hearts, which is why I'm still here for you to shout at. Another, rather unpleasant, alien race are about to try their upmost to take over and rule humankind, which for a bunch of brilliant beings, you are dramatically unprepared for. That's where me, The Doctor- TimeLord, and you, my new and rather good looking companion-" clicking his tongue he sent a wink her way "Hooper- Human, come in; saving the planet from certain doom and always back in time for tea!"
Molly did not faint at this, Molly did not gawk at this, Molly did not scream, or cry, or run at this; she merely took a deep breath in, collecting her thoughts, and upon exhaling spoke to the man with adventure in his voice. "Okay… yeah… sounds exciting. And I thought my life couldn't get weirder than having gone on three dates with James Moriarty."
"Goodness me, you really are spunky. I was preparing for you to faint, I thought you'd be a fainter, you look like a fainter." This earned him another playful hit as she looped her arm into his.
"If I am to follow you, Doctor, and save the world from a bunch of rouge aliens that begin with 's', then there will be less of the 'spunky'. Thank you."
"Yes, Miss." The Doctor mock saluted the small woman.
"Good!" Molly laughed.
"Allons-y!" dragging a running Molly though the thick and common double doors and into adventures untold, the morgue was left in it's usual silence, if not a little worse for wear and missing the shuffling footfalls of a young 'spunky' pathologist.
A voice echoed through the corridors and into the silence, getting softer and softer as the two ran in the direction of the trouble to come. "Get off my hair Doctor… you know if you have such a fascination and a want to be ginger, there is a thing called hair dye!"