A/N: Dedicated to anyone who has ever had anything to do with cancer. Bit slow to start with, but get's better I promise!!
Disc: I don't own anything.
Chapter One.
A girl sat at her desk, typing furiously on her laptop whilst Queen's Greatest Hits CD blared through the stereo. She ran a hand through her shoulder length brown hair in frustration before continuing typing. So immersed in her work it took her several moments to realise there was a strange noise in the background.
The girl hit the pause button on her CD player and turned around. There was an odd whooshing sound coming from the corner of her room and the girl gasped at the sight before her. A large, old, blue police box was appearing from nowhere in her bedroom. The whooshing sound stopped and the police box became solid. The door swung open and the girl screamed.
The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS to see a teenage girl screaming at him. She looked to be about sixteen years old and utterly terrified. Well, what appeared to be a police box had just materialized in her bedroom, so she was entitled to scream.
"Um, sorry," the Doctor said loudly, trying to be heard over the girl's scream. "I think I got the wrong place, sorry to bother you."
He turned to step back into the TARDIS but the girl called after him.
"Wait!"
The Doctor turned back to her in confusion. Hadn't she just been screaming in terror at the sight of him? Now she was looking incensed that he was about to leave.
"Yes?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked the girl up and down.
"Sorry, aren't you going to explain?" the girl asked as she stood up from her desk.
"Explain what?" asked the Doctor. "Why I appeared in your room?"
"Yes," the girl nodded, taking a cautious step towards him.
"I was meant to be dropping in on the 1980's but I guess I got the date wrong," he said, expecting the girl to stare at him as though he were mad, but was quite surprised by her response.
"Oh okay," she said casually. "Can I come?"
"What?!" the Doctor cried, startled. "What d'you mean, can you come? Of course not! And how can you act so casual? You just had a strange man appear in your house claiming he travels in time! Aren't you slightly disturbed?"
"Well duh," she said, rolling her eyes. "But I watch enough science-fiction movies to know there must be such thing as time travel. It's just a matter of figuring it out."
The Doctor couldn't help it. He burst into peels of laughter.
"You humans really are amusing," he said, eyes shining with mirth. "Science-fiction movies? You really believe that rubbish? Well, some of it's genuine I suppose, but mostly it's just human fantasies."
"You talk as though you think you're not human," the girl commented.
"I'm not."
"No?" she said thoughtfully. "But what is it that makes us human?"
"What d'you mean?" the Doctor asked in genuine confusion.
"Emotions. That's what. If you find an alien with compassion, wouldn't that make it almost human? Compassion, love, hope, faith, anger, frustration, happiness, pride, sadness. All emotions that make us what we are. So wouldn't you call them human traits? And if something can feel all those emotions, you'd say that makes them at least partially human."
The Doctor was speechless. The girl turned and glanced out of the window.
"Looks like there'll be a storm," the girl said matter-of-factly. "It was really sunny and hot before, now it's overcast and raining."
"Mmm," the Doctor said. It was all he could manage.
"So why are you going to the eighties?" the girl asked curiously. "And is that your time machine?" She pointed at the TARDIS.
"Um, yes," he answered carefully. "And I am going to the eighties because I haven't been there in quite a while and I suddenly felt like going."
"I wasn't born in the eighties," the girl said. "I just missed 'em, born in 1990. But I have a thing for eighties music."
"Right," the Doctor said, wanting to get away from this girl quickly. "Well, nice to meet you, see ya."
"Hold on," she said as the Doctor turned to leave. "You haven't met me yet. Well, you have but you didn't introduce yourself."
"I'm the Doctor," he answered impatiently. "And I have to go now. I have a date with Freddie Mercury."
"Oh!" yelped the girl happily. "He was the lead singer of Queen! They're my all time favourite band! Just let me grab a coat, then we can set off. My name's Tilly by the way."
The Doctor snorted with laughter and the girl glared at him.
"Sorry," he said, sobering up. "But I've never heard that name before."
"It's short for Matilda," Tilly said, narrowing her eyes at him. "And I've never met anyone pathetic enough to give themselves a lame title, except for little kids!"
The Doctor was quite hurt at this remark.
"Hey, it's not a title!" he protested. "It's my name. I'm just called the Doctor."
"Fine, I'll play along," she said. "Hello, 'the Doctor'."
"Oh that's just silly," the Doctor snapped. "You don't call me 'the' Doctor, just Doctor."
"Whatever, Doctor," Tilly said as she stepped to her wardrobe and pulled it open. She grabbed a puffy looking white jacket and slung it over her shoulder.
"Ready?" she asked, facing the Doctor.
"Now when did I agree to take you with me?" he asked, knowing he would take her anyway. He was curious as to why she was so laid back about this.
"You didn't," she answered, smiling mischievously. "But you will anyway, 'cause I intrigue you."
The Doctor smiled. This girl had guts, teasing a Time Lord. And the last one at that.
