I really wasn't in the mood for any interruptions. Technology in general was once again proving itself to be my ultimate bane and my patience was beyond thin. Sitting in the university diner with my Dell finally in working mode, I hoped for the relatively peaceful half hour I needed to complete my work. Fate had other plans.

Familiarity rules would dictate that unless absolutely necessary, you wouldn't impose to share a two-person table with a stranger. But the man that I was about to meet seemed blissfully unaware of these standards.

Stepping through the doorway, his appearance as it was, I wouldn't have been very surprised if he announced that he was Sherlock Holmes. In spite of myself, my curiosity was already aroused. But after just a few seconds of giving in to my imagination, I returned to my critique of Annie Dillard.

I heard him ask the cashier for two cups of water, registering his British accent, far out of place at our small Midwest U.S. university. Telling myself I didn't have time to be interested, I tried to satisfy myself with the logical explanation that he was an acquaintance from our President's many travels. He became far more difficult to ignore when I heard movement close by and looked up from my monitor to find him directly in front of me.

" 'Ello." Raised eyebrows and a tense smile that was almost a grimace accompanied the greeting.

I gave a nod in response, a greeting I had formerly disliked but now found rather appropriate. After returning to my work as distraction, I risked a sly look around the room, confirming that there were several empty tables in the diner.

"Waiting for someone?"

I had been caught. "No, I replied uneasily. "You?" It was hopeful.

"Nah. Right on time."

I couldn't disguise my confused look and I didn't care. I pointedly returned to my keyboard typing slightly more forcefully than necessary, hoping that he got the message.

"Am I bothering you?" He was amused.

"No." And I was getting more irritated.

"Good." He then started tapping his fingers on the table as he checked his watch and I regretted being polite.

"Can I do something for you?"

"It's not so much a matter of what you can do for me as what I can do for you." While I was trying to process that, he reached over to the next table, grabbing a napkin and handing it to me. "Serviette? Promise you'll want it. Oh, and," he added, as if a side-note, "You may want to find a different table."

"What?" I stood and closed my computer before leaning over the table to tell him off so that everyone else wouldn't hear. "Look, if you wanted the table, you could have just asked."

"Oh, sure." I recognized the sarcasm as I often used it myself. "This particular table is rather ideally located…nice wall blocking all that terrible sunlight, fantastic view these odd little liquid containers…" He indicated the storage units for milk and soda that were located right by the table.

With his comment, the day and this man's attitude had forced me into an attitude that I had been trying to avoid. "You're right. It's perfect. So I'm staying." I sat down hard in the chair, just sitting, challenging him to get me to move.

"Can't say I didn't warn you, then."

"Warn me about what?"

I didn't have to wonder long - he jumped up from his seat, grabbed my hand and yanked me across the room. We collapsed on the floor against another table and chair set just before some kind of light beam came straight through the ceiling and burning a large hole in the table and chair we had just left.

"That," he replied simply as he offered me a hand up. "You…might want this now…sorry about that."

Frowning, I still didn't understand his preoccupation with giving me the napkin, particularly when his seeming prediction had yet to fully register. "What?"

"The water…"

I glanced down and discovered that in masterminding our escape from certain danger, he had knocked over the filled cup of water, the contents of which were now all over my pants. Without a word of thanks, a snatched the napkin and tried in vain to dry up the water as quickly as possible. "Who are you?"

"Really sorry about that. See ya." He ducked out the side door before I could say anything, but before I could complain mentally about that, he returned. Or at least his head did, appearing from outside the door. "I'm the Doctor."