Disclaimer I do not own the Doctor. He is his own man, after all. If I did, it would be slavery, and then I would have to explain to the world how I owned a character and they would have to explain to me that he does not technically exist and it would just get all messy.

She checked her cheap watch, shook it, held it to her ear, and looked at it again, before giving up completely. She debated about throwing it away, but decided not to when she remembered with a pang that it was one of the last things she had bought before leaving home and everything she had known. She stood at the crosswalk debating the case of scruples she had just developed.

'If I really cared about home, I would call them more than once in…never,' she scolded herself.

'But, on the other hand, if I could afford the international call, then I would,' another voice countered. A mental image of her small family farm nestled beside a narrow ribbon of a creek came unbidden to her mind, but she forced it aside and crossed the street with the crowd around her, blending in with the businessmen and women. She only blended in when she kept her mouth shut, and didn't point out that she was from the States and not a native. After two years she still did not remember to say 'aluminium' or 'no, I'm from Canada' correctly. She sighed, with despair written all over her face.

"Erm, miss?" someone asked her, and she jumped, realizing that she had just been standing on the other side of the street, staring at her hand which held her dead watch over a bin. The man was looking at her, anxiously. "You know," he started slowly, "it is only just a watch. You do not have to look so distressed about it." She looked at him, and felt a smile cross her face.

Suddenly embarrassed, she dropped the watch into the can. "I am sorry, I just was thinking and I guess I got lost in my own mind. It happens, more often than I would like to admit."

"Oh, it is okay," he lifted his chin and gave her a sideways look. "Say, as they say on the other side of the pond," he dropped into a gravely but spot-on John Wayne, "Yer not from aron'd here, are you?"

"No, I'm not, I'm from—" she stopped for a second, thinking. "I mean, I'm…Canada." She winced inwardly.

He looked skeptical. "You are… Canada? I did not realize that Canada was so small and petite. I was always under the impression it was a large, corpulent man," he gestured to emphasis how large. "No, wait, that's Russia," he mused.

She was thoroughly abashed now, and started looking for escape routes. She hefted her case she was carrying. He noticed and, thinking he had offended her, dropped his hands and looked at the broken watch on top of the old news papers and half eaten sandwiches. "Hey, you know, I know something about watches. I can fix it for you."

"What, fix that old thing? It is not important, just a piece of plastic I bought at Walmart years ago. It is not exactly a Rolex, I can get a new one."

"Did you buy it in Canada?" He scrutinized the face of the timepiece. "Tell you what, how about we walk to this little café thing down the street here, and I guarantee that this watch will work by the time we get there. Deal?" He held out his arm for her. She reluctantly placed her arm in the nook of his elbow, and walked with him. A half second later he moved his arm and pulled something out of his jacket pocket. She dropped her arm and felt rather foolish.

'Why are you sticking to this rude little man, exactly?' she asked herself. She studied him while pretending to watch traffic. He was taller than her, but long and lithe. He was smartly dressed, and was wearing sneakers. ( 'Sneakers, really? What are you trying to prove?' ) His face was angular, he had a slight pout, and thought lines creased across his forehead as he concentrated on the small device in his hands. That was when she realized what he had got out of his pocket.

"I am not certain how a small flashlight is going to help you fix my watch, mister…"

"Doctor…"

"Mister Doctor."

"No, just… hey… is that a joke?"

"Yes, it is a joke. I am capable of making jokes to, you know."

He grinned. "And I here I thought all 'Canadians' were cold hard people." He flicked the penlight into the air and tucked it into his pocket. "Here we go, your watch, as good as new." He handed it to her as though it was the most delicate crystal. She took it from him and gasped. "I did not know that it told the day of the week!"

He raised an eyebrow. She swallowed and laughed. "I-I mean, I just thought it was telling me that everyday would be SUNny, you see."

He appraised her. "So is every day sunny?" He asked, suddenly serious.

She looked down at herself and blushed. She was in every way orange where he was blue; Bert to his Ernie. While he was wearing a nice gazillion-piece suit, she was wearing clean but very worn jeans, an old band t-shirt that read 'NIRVANA In Utero' with the winged woman in the middle, a jacket with frayed cuffs, and an old hat pulled down over her short-cropped hair. To her own eyes she looked ragged, and impish. 'Maybe I do not blend in as well as I thought,' a wistful voice in her head sighed.

"How about this," he said, breaking her mental reverie. She noticed that they were at the outdoor café he had mentioned. She was a little unnerved how easily she was spacing out all of a sudden. "I shall get us something to eat, and you tell me what you are doing here, so very far from home."

"Oh, but, I have to go, I am late, and you have already spent enough time on me," she stammered. "It was nice meeting you, but really, I am late." She turned quickly, and felt his hand on her shoulder.

"Please, just stay for a minute? Five minutes. Well, Four minutes annnnnd…"he looked over her shoulder at her watch. "37 seconds. That is all I ask." She shrugged his hand off.

"I am really sorry, I am. I have a.. a gig to get to." She indicated the case she was carrying.

"Oh, a musician! What instrument do you play?" He asked, trying to keep her with him in an obvious way.

She lifted the guitar-shaped container, "Well, its big and has a neck.. so… obviously, I play the flute." He tipped his head back and laughed. She turned away.

"Wait! Where are you playing?" he asked.

"Oh, just this little place, you would have never heard of it," she said, without turning back to him, "See you around, Mr. Doctor." She went down the steps into the nearest underground entrance, leaving him standing beside a café table, with a knowing look on his face, clearly understanding her better than she thought.