If We Ever Meet Again
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All glory to the BBC.
Notes: If you're a reader from "The Muse Errant," welcome. If you're reading this first, welcome also. I've been a dedicated Whovian since 2005 (yes I know, just like the rest of the world, but I went back to watch the awful American movie and the old series as well) and I traditionally write these chapters while wearing my own handmade Baker scarf. Because I'm just that much of a geek. Please enjoy!
Chapter One
It was a sunny September morning. London was filled with activity; the hustle and bustle of the work day had begun before the sun was even roused enough to peek his shining face over the horizon. Massive amounts of tea and coffee driving them on, the populace threw themselves into Thank-God-It's-Friday with abandon. Some dreamed of grandiose plans for the weekend, others merely of sleeping in and spending a quiet day at home.
Downtown, a few streets over from a busy bus terminal and several department stores, a small cafe was already knee-deep in customers. Waitstaff darted to and fro as the clientele jockeyed for position at the host station. Out on the patio, tray in one hand, coffee pot in the other, Evelyn Graham was pretty sure her feet were about to fall off.
Well, not really. They'd been ready to fall off this morning after her overnight double. Now they were a bread shortage away from rising in open revolt and dragging her to the guillotine like some erstwhile French queen.
Also, she was pretty sure she was losing what little sanity a hectic schedule and a few especially obnoxious customers hadn't already stripped away.
She'd been working at the Ivy Crown for over a year now, having come to London as an exchange student and fallen in love with the city. Aspirations of a part in a West End musical and a possible stage career had been entertained. After graduation, a work visa, an overseas move, and a very long year of scraping by on dwindling savings, it must be confessed that the romance had somewhat gone out of the idea. Six months of fruitless auditions and nearly losing her small flat when she couldn't pay the rent had seen to that.
She was tired, sore, nearly broke, getting slightly discouraged, and...oh yes, losing her mind. Because as long as she'd been at the Ivy Crown, she was damn near certain there hadn't been a blue Police Box sitting on the corner opposite.
It had first caught her attention two days before, when an odd pulsing mechanical wheeze had startled her away from her lunch break. Odder still was the fact that she hadn't seen the blue box until several hours later, following a persistant feeling that something was off and lots of staring. Then suddenly, there it had been, like the spaceship hidden in one of those Magic Eye pictures she and her friends used to give themselves headaches trying to decipher.
A steady stream of customers helped take her mind off things. Hard to dwell on your problems when you're trying to be bright and cheerful, after all. And speaking of things that take a while to notice...
Had that fellow in the leather jacket been there a minute ago? Impossible to tell, really. Couldn't have been too long, he didn't have that agitated "why hasn't someone waited on me yet?" look. Then again, he was frowning rather intently at a small electronic device, so he might not have noticed the lapse. Oh well. Evelyn smiled off the last of her regulars and scurried over.
"Good morning, what can I get you?"
"What?" The man blinked up at her briefly, then gave a large slightly dopey grin that seemed to stretch the entire distance between his rather large ears. "Oh, nothing for me, thanks. Just sitting." And it was right back to the electronic device, which was now beeping irritably. "Oh don't do that. We both know it's here somewhere. You said it was close a moment ago, don't give me that."
"Um..." Evelyn put in. "Hate to interrupt, but..."
"Then don't."
Oh now, really.
"It's a cafe. If you want to sit here, you need to place an order. Otherwise it makes the management flustered and stern. And I don't like it when they're flustered and stern. They say bad things then, mostly about cutting my hours. So...cup of tea?"
"Er..." The man patted the pockets of his leather jacket, which, now seen closer to, was considerably well-loved. Actually, that was putting it nicely. It looked more like someone had taken a bat to it, then dragged the seams over a few hundred yards of sandpaper. The dopey grin took on an imploringly sheepish quality. "How much for a glass of water?"
Oh dear.
"Water's free, actually."
"Oh good! Water then, thanks." The electronic device made a rude noise and all the small twinkling lights shut off. "No, no no no no! Blasted thing!" He dropped it on the table and sat back, glaring. "Well, I'm not getting you anything."
At a loss, Evelyn made her way back into the kitchen, retrieved the water, and went about her business. The morning passed with a blessed absence of difficulty. The man in the jacket did little aside from order a few refills and mutter darkly at his recalcitrant machine. Around 11:00, his woes were interrupted by the clink of a cup and saucer and the sound of the World's Most Patient Server clearing her throat.
"Thought you could use this," she said, setting a cup of tea at his elbow. He frowned as the rest of the service was transferred from tray to table.
"I didn't order that."
"I know. It's on me." She settled herself into the chair opposite. "Morning break. Any luck with that?" A nod to the infernal device.
"I just don't know what's wrong with it." Scowling, he fished what looked like a laser pointer/fountain pen hybrid from his pocket and prodded the device with it. "It was working before. Blasted thing. Sorry."
Evelyn shrugged. "I've heard worse in the kitchen." She sipped her own tea. After another minute or so, the man in the jacket dropped the still-silent device onto the table and reached for his tea.
"So how about these new modern art projects, huh?" Awkward, yes, but making conversation seemed like the thing to do.
"Modern art?" The man arched his eyebrow at her over the rim of his mug. Evelyn gestured with her own to the blue mystery box across the square.
"The blue box over there." Her tablemate spluttered into his tea.
"You can see that?"
"Well...yeah. It's sitting there plain as day, isn't it?" Suddenly she noticed the gent had set down his tea and was looking at her rather intently.
"And you can see it?"
"I thought we'd already established that."
He looked as if he might say more, but out of nowhere, the much-beleaguered box began to blink, buzz, and beep in earnest. The man grabbed the box off the table, upsetting what was left of his tea down the front of Evelyn's apron.
"Sorry!" And off he dashed without the slightest hint of an explanation. Evelyn, having jumped up when lukewarm tea flooded her lap, stared after him with a mix of curiosity and irritation.
"Manky git," she muttered, sponging tea off her clothes as best she could. "Where's he off to in such a hurry?"
(Please review! I'm updating this story at the same time I'm writing another one, so new chapters for both may slow down a bit, but they will be posted. Thanks for reading!)