I don't have the same kind of time I used to, so my writing has become a little rusty. I'm hoping that by putting down this story that has been stuck in my head, I can dust off my brain and get better at this again.

Well then, without further introductions: Geronimo!

Emma was running late again. She had gotten caught up in reading about ancient romans and the legend of the Pandorica's loyal guard; to have someone stand watch for 2,000 years was devotion she only found in legends and works of fiction. But now, if she didn't run, Emma was going to be behind schedule at her temp job in New Jersey, so she left the book face down on her unmade bed and grabbed the bread fresh out of the toaster as she slid into her heels. Stuffing the toast in her mouth, she closed her apartment door and shrugged the messenger bag higher up her shoulder. Hurrying towards her car she could hear the apartment building's door slam shut behind her and could only hope that her neighbors wouldn't complain once again about the noisy downstairs inhabitants. If Emma wasn't slamming doors, falling over, or setting things crashing to the floor, her flatmate, Helen, was engaging in loud shouts of orgasm or causing various pieces of furniture to bump against walls.

Harlem wasn't terrible during the day, although the overly enthusiastic male attention always made her a little wary. I can't help being female and liking dresses! Is it a crime to wear a high-cut, knee-length tea dresses? Emma grumbled as she hurried along the sidewalk. Apparently it warranted creepy behavior from the neighborhood unemployed. Thankful for her mace, she waved at Ed, the corner grocer, who was arranging the magazine stand outside his little shop, before turning the corner and leaping into her car. It was a stroke of luck that Emma had found the small parking lot a few weeks earlier and no longer had to run the risk of over zealous traffic wardens who loved to give tickets at the slightest provocation.

Turning the key, her car groaned and sputtered briefly before falling silent once more. "Not again," Emma groaned and turned the key with more vigor. Nothing happened, a slight creak and that was it. "Shit shit shit!" Emma swore as she clamored back out of the old beaten up Ford. "No, no, no baby. Just a few more months and I'll have paid you off. Don't make me use public transportation now!" Popping the hood, Emma opened it and received a face full of steam. Coughing, she fanned the air in front of her and backed away. She'd have to give her Ford some time to cool off before she could check what was wrong. Sighing she sat back into the driver's seat and pulled out her phone. The High School would need to know why she was running late.

However, before she could finished dialing, a sound caught her attention. A high pitched, rhythmic wheezing that became louder with time. Curious, she placed her hand against the wheel to see if it vibrated, but the car remained still. Meanwhile the wheezing pulse had hit a screeching high before falling silent. A door opened behind her. Wait, a door? Emma whipped around in surprise; there should be no door opening, I'm the only one in an empty parking lot!

A blue box stood behind her car, bumper to wood paneling. That was not there before! Emma grabbed her purse and scrambled out of her car. Moving slowly, she dug through the bag until she gripped the bottle of mace. Feeling slightly safer, she inched towards the strange, rather large, box that was steaming slightly at its edges. Along the sides ran small, small opaque windows and the front read 'Police Box.' What in god's name is a police box? and what is it doing behind my car? Emma's fear was slowly being replaced by curiosity.

The front door was ajar and light filtered out."Come in, come in, we haven't got all day" a voice shouted, causing Emma to jump. Pulling out her mace and holding it in front of her, she reached for the door. Looking back once, she promised herself, just one peek, and stepped inside.

And promptly stepped back out.

"Yes, yes. It's bigger on the inside than the outside. I get that a lot" the voice from in the box called. "Now if you'd be so kind as to get back in, we can get you home."Emma wasn't certain what to do and who the voice from the box thought she was. While she debated whether or not she should enter once more, a head popped out."Oh, hello" he cheerfully explained. He was a young man, in his twenties with hair that desperately needed a cut. The bow tie around his neck belied his youthful appearance. "Have you seen a man around here? Longish hair, possibly still wearing robes. Looking a little like he belongs in a play about the ancient romans?" Emma shook her head, unable to find her voice. "Well, this is the 21st century BC. Or is it AD? Am I even using the right calendar?" His jaw twitched "No definitely BC. I distinctly remember needing to go to BC. And it is the western hemisphere. This is the USA, right?" He barely paused for an answer that was not forthcoming. "Well, maybe he'd look more like he belonged to the time of Jesus then. Middle Eastern for sure." Having come to the end of his speech he looked around as if waiting for someone to magically appear.

Clearing her throat Emma dared to respond, "Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor!" the strange man grinned.

"a doctor?"

"No, no, the Doctor. Although, on the sixth moon of Zephyr I am, in fact, also a doctor. But not here." Emma was growing very confused and more certain that she was talking to a mad man. Why did the car need to break down? she thought desperately, I have no fast exit now!

Trying to placate the obviously unstable man she asked, "Doctor who?"

"Exactly!" he exclaimed happily.

Coming Up ...

Emma Ruiz. The Doctor. The Tardis. An antique ring. And the search for King Midas.