The police box wheezed into existence in a deserted alleyway in the midst of a lightly falling rain, the pavement shining with a thin layer of water. The ripples fluctuated as the TARDIS materialised, familiar noise piercing through the steady rhythm of droplets as time and space bent to accommodate the impossibility.
The bluest blue shone as rivulets of water ran down the box, out of place in the scene of worn asphalt and faded posters. For a brief moment, it was breathtaking- a glowing star suspended in endless space- and then, almost as if it adopted a covering of the dismal air, the box settled, almost becoming part of the city. Almost, just like her madman. Not quite right, never fitting anywhere. They were born and grown to excel, not blend in.
One of the doors opened inward, revealing a man odd in every sense of the term. He filled up more space than he should, almost seeming to wear his importance etched in his very skin. The man carried himself like a youth, unlined face contrasting sharply with the alien gaze that came over him time and time again, sometimes ebbing in a second and sometimes lingering like a dark cloud. A dizzying array of space stretched out behind him, warm lighting reflecting off metal and shining through glass. It highlighted and emphasised the scene from a fairytale, frozen in an instant but still so, so alive. His hand rested on the edge of the still unopened door, curling softly around painted blue wood in a curiously emotional gesture akin to the motion one would attribute to the holding of a hand for a friend that was more than a friend. One that was always there, always constant through the passage of time. As much of him as he was of her.
A leather shoe stepped just outside the box with a decisive squelch, followed closely by its twin. The sound was lighter than one would expect, betraying an odd sort of grace in his movements. The Doctor glanced up, sharp green eyes taking in the lightly cloudy sky and following a droplet of water as it fell, splattering onto the ground and sending speckles of water into the air for a brief moment. With thin raindrops falling lightly over his shoulders, he inhaled, nostrils flaring for a brief second. A moment passed, then he turned, stepping back inside.
"Sorry, old girl," he murmured under his breath by habit as he brought the door closed after him with a decisive click after spotting the light outlines of his shoes in water. Once the door closed, it seemed to keep out the normal, sectioning the world off into distinct pockets of usual and spectacular. He was, predictably, usually in the more unusual type. "It's raining. Amy, Rory, have you got an umbrella?"
"I think we took one from King George's Zygon maid?" Rory frowned, leaning against the barrier with his wife beside him, her red hair making her seem like part of the place. And it was- with time, Amy had almost become as much of the TARDIS as... well, anything. He could barely imagine going on without the Ponds, and he was sure that feeling would only increase with time. "I saw Amy put it under the seat after running from the robot Emus," the boy said after a brief moment.
"We used it to hold off the alien roses later," Amy shrugged, looking under the seat anyway and not seeming very surprised when it proved absent. "It probably got shredded while you were still climbing out of the prison with the little amphibians."
"Is there still one in the pool?" the Doctor sprang to the ground, glancing around then pushing himself back upright again with no sign of any umbrellas anywhere. "From the banquet last month, with the sentient acid wine."
"I lost the pool- well, the contents, so I imagine so?" Rory volunteered. Amy nodded in assent, leaning on the console while being careful not to touch any buttons. That's already created enough havoc for a lifetime the last time it happened, and the time before that. Rory was still watching her rather suspiciously since the last incident, as he got the brunt of whatever happened afterward. The Doctor had tried to explain, but what Amy and he got were essentially two words: timey-wimey.
"Alright, I'll get it." the Doctor sighed, resigning himself to scouring his squash courts for a mildly acid-stained umbrella floating in the remaining contents of the pool. Tough and really quite corrosive, but slow and neutralised by chlorine. They had run through the corridors, peeking into rooms for the pool until the Doctor finally found it, flinging the umbrella into the deep end and then rushing back to the console room to get them out of the mess. They had landed upside-down on the lip of a bubbling volcano filled with some rather cross pyroviles and it had all gone downhill from there.
Literally.
He turned, as if just remembering something important he should say. Something of crucial importance that would result in disaster and had if he hadn't said it- though, in retrospect, some of the unmitigated disaster happened anyway even if he said it. Just to be safe, though, he said the three words anyway before leaving them in the console room. "Don't wander off. And Ponds, don't touch any buttons."
The Doctor turned toward his room while still looking for the pool, opening the door just to be sure and then feeling the ceiling for any sign of water leakage in case it's right above his room. He watched dispassionately as a singular silver object on his desk turned itself on, beaming a bright blue which condensed into a hologram. It was grainy, but judging from the connection speed and type it was intentionally obscuring her features. It showed a female with only the head and shoulders showing, around his height. She had cropped blonde hair and some sort of coat with a bright yellow strap peeking from a lifted corner of her coat- a stranger, perhaps, or someone long gone. Had he not been on his last, he would have suspected his future.
"Doctor," she said quietly, knowing she already had his attention by the way his eyes focused on her, almost trying to pierce through her despite the woman being about as far as it gets from where he is. "We need to talk. About the Ponds."