so, this is a teaser of my Doctor Who/Les Mis fanfiction. i hope you enjoy it.

for now, i will mainly post teasers until my Enjolras/Eponine fanfiction is completed. but please read and review, so i know whether anyone would like to read more.

Doctor Who is my favourite TV show, and Les Mis is my favourite musical, so it makes sense. this idea came from a dream i had, and i had to write it down. (such a fangirl)

Ramin Karimloo as Enjolras (of course ;)), Matt Smith as our raggedy man, but no preferences for Johanna.

I DO NOT OWN DOCTOR WHO OR LES MIS. I DO OWN JOHANNA AND HER SCHOOL, (well, St. Dom's owns itself, but it might be my future sixth form, so i think i can use it).

ENJOY! :D

Chapter one:

The strange man smiled as I handed him his cleaned bowtie. What he had done too get in such a messy state, I didn't know. What I did know was that a strange, messy man in a blue box had flown into an eight-year-old's garden. Thank goodness my parents were at a meal, but Mama wouldn't be happy to see her carnations very squashed.

"Thank you, little... human. Thank you for the... clothes... washing... thing you did."The man smiled again, and his jumbled words filled me with pride.

"You're welcome." I replied, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of what was inside the small Police box. He noticed, started to chuckle and said, "Listen, I shouldn't be standing here talking to a charming, young being. I'm in the middle of something important... and dangerous... and River won't be happy with me if she knew." I was confused; why would a river be mad at him? "But! I will come back, I always come back! I'll give you a trip, anywhere at any time you want! But just one, later." He grinned childishly, waving his arms about, whilst the words sank into me, my mind slowly opening. "When you're older, I'll come back and give you a ride. How about that?" I squealed and hugged the stranger. "Right, as I go, lemme show you something..." He popped into the box, before reappearing. "Oh, what's your name?"

"Johanna." I replied with thick pride in my voice. "Johanna Louise Harper."

"Nice too meet you, Johanna Louise Harper. See you soon, and... thank you." His head disappeared, a loud, odd noise filled the air, and the box started to disappear. The wind the disappearance made filled me with excitement and possibilities. Several locations and times whizzed through my head, as I ran upstairs too my blue, box room, ready to be 'asleep' when my parents came home from their meal.

I smiled, and closed my eyes.

~oOo~

I groaned and opened my eyes.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! "Bloody alarm!"

Through the thick sleep in my eyes, I read the usual time of 7:30am, groaned again, swore, and prayed for a miracle, for a strange man in a blue box. I dreamt it last night; the night I met the bowtie man, I never forget it. Where do I want to go today? I thought, like I always do in case he came that day. My eyes gazed around the room for inspiration, and I had it; on my desk, my copy of Les Miserables lay open on the first battle on the barricade. I shouldn't read it. I always get upset at the battles, knowing that my (shameless) literature crush, Enjolras, was going to be caught and killed... I cry every time.

Today, I wanted to go to Paris, June 1832, the time of the Paris Student Uprising.

Getting ready for college is always a chore, having too choose my clothes to suit any situation I may be thrown into with the bowtie man. Trainers were often worn, by the despise of many girls at college, because something told me that he did an awful lot of running. Even going into college, although I have a free period, is a pain in the ass, but I like to hide in the library, and read or write until my next class. Nothing productive as always. Don't get me wrong, St. Dominic's Sixth Form is a really good college; the classes are interesting, most of the teachers were nice, and the campus is pretty, though confusing. But, when you get to eighteen and you second/final year, your classes turn to Hell, along with your teachers, and getting up early for form classes just takes the piss. Gone have the days when getting the bus to school was seen as cool to the walkers, and becomes a miserable packet of sardines, with the bus driver yelling about how much he hates students. Still, Thursdays meant Drama second class, and I had my Eponine monologue sorted. I could face today.

~oOo~

"But only... on my own..." Francis sang as I stepped off the bus and made my way to the side road, where the campus stood. I was going to be late, but I didn't care, all that was waiting was an empty chair at an empty table. I stopped, smiled and giggled. An empty chair at an empty table, I thought, that's a good one Johanna.

Then I saw it.

The blue box.

Parked just outside my sixth form's entrance stood a 1960's police telephone box.

He came.

He came back for me.

I stopped in my tracks and stared. It has been ten long years, ten long years of dreaming for this moment, of knocking on its door, and seeing the bowtie man smile at me again. But I couldn't find the strength in me to walk. It didn't seem real; why was he here, outside my college, on a Thursday morning at 8:47am? Was I finally going to get my reward for cleaning off his messy clothes and ridiculous bowtie?

Suddenly, a head popped out of the police box door. "Are you going to stand there all day, Johanna Louise Harper? I haven't got all of time and space to waste or anything!" He recognised me... But how? It's been ten years since we last saw each other, and I'm completely different now. However, from afar, he didn't look any different.

Smiling in delight, I ran at full speed towards the box, and his happy-seven-year-old smile spurred me on. He stepped to one side, the door wide open, and let me run in. I didn't hit a wooden wall, as I expected, instead I tripped on some stairs... Wait, stairs? I looked up and gasped. It was massive inside! But tiny on the outside. How could it be bigger on the inside? A large, round console was in the centre of the room, making funny noises and flashy lights, whist random stairs led to anywhere and everywhere. I couldn't believe it, so much so, I started making the kind of noise a fish makes out of water, trying to find the words. Bowtie man helped me too my feet and in a very bored tone said, "Yes, it's bigger on the inside... Yadder, yadder, blah, blah, blah." He proceeded to go on about time and space, speaking of the possibilities, spinning around the circular controls, pulling and pushing several different things, whilst I realized something important.

"Can I ask you something?" I interrupted rather rudely. Bowtie man looked at me with a sense of annoyance, and then nodded. "What's your name?" This surprised him, almost like he didn't know what to say. I sighed and explained, "Ten years ago, you landed in my front garden, on my mother's carnations, covered in some gooey substance all over your clothes and silly bowtie-" He stroked his bowtie lightly "-and begged me to help you clean it off, saying it was an emergency. So I helped, cleaned and dried your clothes, and you offered me one trip in your magical blue box. Just one, anywhere in time and space, when I was older, and I've dreamt of that trip since, basing my whole life around this moment. I trusted, help and believed in you... without knowing your name. And I want that now, thank you."

He stood there for some time, taking in my accidently epic-sounding speech, then smiled and said, "Doctor."

"Doctor Who?"

"Just the Doctor. People like to call me it, I don't know why. I call me that too, I still don't know why." He simply smiled at me, warmly.

I nodded, satisfied with the name he had given me. "Okay, Doctor."

"So, where do you wanna go?" His eyes were glinting with excitement and magic. I took off my bag, catching a glimpse of my Les Miserables book. I took it out, dropped my bag on the floor, and stroked its worn, second-hand cover. I smiled. Thank goodness I have you with me. "Well?" he pressed.

"June 1832. Paris." I looked up smiling. "Preferably, near the city's centre." He looked awfully dissatisfied with my answer, but he programmed it into the console regardless.

"Why then?" he asked. "Why the Paris Student Uprising of 1832? It failed. No fun."

"My favourite book and musical is based around that time period. Both the book and show are my life. I am forever quoting it, making jokes about, singing the songs, lusting over one particular character." I thought of my darling Enjolras and sighed. I had to go and fall in love with a fictional character, didn't I? "I want to know what really happened."

"Hold on." He whispered with one hand on a lever. As he pulled the lever down, the whole box shook and jolted, as I grabbed onto the console for dear life. A sense of happiness overflowed in me, and laughter escaped my lips, as the Doctor yelled out;

"GENROMIMO!"

so, what do you think?

please R&R, so i know whether i should continue it fully after Streets Full Of Strangers is finished.

thank you. x