Coffee
Author's Muse: I've attempted several different Doctor Who stories before, but none have seem to catch on until now. This takes place before Claraverse and takes an alternate timeline beyond. This will be a series of short stories I have titled, "The Lone Wolf". I hope you guys enjoy this.
As a disclaimer, I would like to say that I absolutely love Clara, I just had this idea running through my head and no real outlet. Plus, I haven't had access to a personal computer and won't for a while, so everything is currently being written on my iphone.
I do not own Doctor Who. I only own the plot and Brianna.
She first saw him in the local coffee shop off the corner of Main Street. It was the middle of what looked to be a long, hard, research day and Brianna knew she was going to need the extra fuel. He was in there reading the news paper with some sort of unhappy frown on his handsome face.
She had never seen the like of him before and she lived in Austen area; odd was the definite norm. He didn't look odd at first glance. He was a man reading a newspaper wearing some old folks suit despite looking decidedly younger than eighty. His hair was styled differently. She certainly has never seen that look with that sort of dress clothes before.
Brianna had asked the barista, a middle-aged German lady who just so happened to own the place, about him on the fifth month she noticed him sitting in the background away from the general populous. He never talked to anyone and never acknowledged the crowd's existence. All he ever did read his paper and drink his tea and look so sad. Mrs. Frost, the barista and owner of the store, had told her that the man went by the alias, 'The Doctor', and never really talked to anyone. He simply came in to quietly drink his tea and possibly eat a biscuit before quietly taking his leave.
Mrs. Frost seemed to like him. He never caused trouble. Brianna couldn't quite pinpoint why her heart gave a slight, pitying, pang for him, but she was too rushed at that moment to really notice anything.
She never actually spoke to him until she was nearly ran over by a man with a head shaped like a potato driving a very old looking car. Brianna reacted the only way she was accustomed to; promises of 2nd Degree murder. It was mid rant that he stepped out of the back of the old, polished, Ford that she stopped squeaking in astonishment. He looked at her curiously as if attempting to figure her out.
Then he actually spoke to her, "I'm a little curious, how exactly do you plan on ripping out his vocal chords if he doesn't have a throat?"
She didn't really have anything intelligent to give as a retort. She was too surprised that he was even speaking to her to even acknowledge the question.
"The Doctor asked you a question, boy! Answer or meet your end via acidic vapor!" demanded the potato man in a tone that suggested he would have loved to go into graphic detail.
She glared at him, "I don't have to take orders from an... Individual who just so happened to almost run me over with a pre-modern vehicle which would have resulted in my death and the inevitability of me coming back as a ghost and haunting you for the rest of your life!"
Potato man was about to retort when The Doctor intervened.
"Strax, go back into the car. Please?" he asked while sounding tired.
The tone of his voice took Brianna by surprise. He sounded world weary.
The thing man named Strax walked back into the car while mumbling to himself about something or other. Brianna wasn't quite sure what.
The Doctor turned to her and Brianna figured that now would be a good time to apologize for her unseemly behavior.
"Hey, look, I'm sorry about threatening your driver. He might have almost run me over, but it was still uncalled for-," she didn't have a chance to finish.
"I'm not worried about that! What I'm worried about is whether or not you were hurt. Are you?" he asked.
She blinked and shrugged mostly to herself. There really wasn't much of a way to respond to this.
"I'm fine, sir-?" she added because she was curious.
"Just call me the Doctor, everyone does," he said.
She gave him a look, "Why?"
He looked genuinely taken aback by her question.
"What do you mean, why? Because I like it, that's why!" he snapped as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe.
Brianna crossed her arms. He was rather irritable.
"You come to the coffee house on Main Street," she stated.
"Yeah, and you're the history girl reading up on history while studying stuff from vanilla and green folders," he took note of her surprised look and smirked, "What? You thought I didn't notice anything?"
She covered her surprise up with a glare, "Whats up with you and that bow tie?"
He grinned suddenly and Brianna blinked at his sudden change in demeanor. He leaned forward with a slight raise of his eyebrow.
"In curious, why are you reviewing murder cases?" he asked.
She gave him a thin smile, "Why are you so interested in what I do in my spare time?"
He opened his mouth to answer, looked as if to reply, and then automatically shut it. Brianna looked smug.
"Have a nice day sir," she said and turned to leave.
That was her first verbal interaction with the man. She had walked away from his presence feeling perplexed. The conversation had been fast paced and filled with both of them hastily changing subjects. He was also British, she had noted. At least he seemed British. He could have faked his accent, after all.
They spoke again a few weeks later after a few tentative days where the two of them glanced at each other when they were certain the other was not looking. One day, she ended up there early, recently purchased her coffee and was slipping through the tables and people to her usual seat when they literally ran into each other.
Brianna felt relieved that, when her coffee spilled, it simply descended to the floor instead of splashing into her or the Doctors clothes. She was annoyed by the fact that her daily water of life was waisted along with her money.
"Oh I am so, so, so sorry! I-," he cut off the moment his eyes met hers.
Brianna sent him a reproving look and glanced down at the spilled liquid. She felt mournful at such a loss. This would mean that she would have to purchase another one.
"Is this always going to a thing with us? You nearly running me down in some way or another, at least? I believe my coffee was the first casualty," she remarked stiffly.
"We don't have a thing, and I'm sorry about your coffee, I wasn't looking," he replied after some shocked an offended hesitation.
She sent him a pout and then sighed after a few seconds. She had things she needed to do and debating with him was not on her day's agenda. Brianna turned away from him after letting out a short, high-pitched huff and brought her wallet up to chin level so as to check the amount of dollar funds remaining. Four dollars. That would be enough for a medium cup and the prospect replaced her slightly playful pout with a disappointed frown. She wouldn't get paid for another week and she didn't want to get money out of her checking account until the next day.
A hand tapped her shoulder and she stopped to look over her shoulder at the inquirer. An eyebrow raised when she realized that the person getting her attention was The Doctor.
"Let me get you a new one," he insisted.
"What?" she asked in surprise.
He rolled his eyes, "You lot really don't listen, do you?"
She glared at him and crossed her arms defiantly.
"I heard you! Why?"
He looked at her curiously, "I thought that was obvious! I spilled your coffee, so I'll buy you another one."
"You're a complete stranger!" she said with a bit of whine in her voice.
He picked up her cup, sniffed it, and smiled.
"Mocha with a swirl of caramel. Excuse me," and with that he stepped around the visibly stunned Brianna.
She blinked and then followed him to the counter.
"Wait! I'm fine I can get another one!" she insisted.
Mrs. Frost raised an eyebrow as she stepped beside The Doctor and threw her arm in front of him. He simply gave her a "look" that she returned with a stern stare.
"I don't need you to buy me another one," she insisted.
He smirked and leaned forward. The act caught her off guard.
"You have four dollars left in your wallet and you don't go to the bank that often. You like to save money. Wasting your last dollars on another cup will put you off for a day in which you will not be around tomorrow and your entire schedule will be ruined and-," she cut him off.
"Why do you care?" she snapped.
A throat cleared and both parties looked over the counter at Mrs. Frost. The woman smiled at Brianna.
"Bri, can I talk to you for a moment?" she asked.
Brianna nodded and stepped away from the Doctor and made her way to the end of the counter. Mrs. Frost leaned foreword with a small knowing smile on her face.
"Let him buy you coffee," she muttered.
Brianna blinked, "Excuse me?"
Mrs. Frost rolled her eyes and rested her chin on a raised hand.
"You really weren't listening, Bri, he likes you. Let him buy you coffee," she insisted.
"But-."
"Go on, accept his offer. I'll give you a discount tomorrow," bribed Mrs. Frost.
Brianna pouted, "Fine."
She had to steel herself from the childish urge to stomp back to the counter where an infuriatingly smug Doctor waited. Brianna refrained from pouting too much, though the slight jut of her lower lip lightly graced her features.
"Alright, you can pay, but you have to sit with me," she boldly declared.
It was a fair trade, after all, especially if he was interested in her like Mrs. Frost believed him to be. He odd dedication to her work was what tended to scare unwanted men off.
He seemed taken aback by the deal, but complied without comment anyway. She nearly grinned at how easy that was.
When all coffee was bought and the two of them were settled at her table, Brianna spread out her work across the table. It took her a moment to consider what she wanted to start on and the bronze haired individual opted for the daunting task of identifying strange Celtic-like runes her Professor suggested she take a good look at. She frowned at the picture of the strange markings that littered the stone found ten miles from Canterbury. Were they really Gaelic? She certainly had never seen the like before.
"Well don't leave me in suspense, explain this particular project," he said and effectively startled her from her reverie.
She glanced up at him with a slight narrowing of her teal eyes. Maybe he would know something? Making a brash decision on her part, Brianna slid the laminated picture in front of him mutely while she drew out her notes to review them.
The Doctor let out a high pitched whistle. After a few moments of staring at the writing on the picture.
"What's up?" she asked while scanning through a passage about the similarities between certain Garlic letters and the strange ones.
"I can't read this," he said as if it was the most astounding thing in the world.
Brianna snorted, "So?"
"This is an old language," he said.
She sent him a look that practically screamed, "no duh". He picked up the picture and set it back on her side of the table.
"It's so old that it wont be on normal human records. In fact-," he seemed to have caught his train of vocal thought because he stopped speaking and shook his head of brown hair.
It was fleeting, but Brianna was certain that she caught a glimpse of a sad, empty, expression flicker across his face.
He smiled a bit awkwardly and folded his hands carefully on the table.
"Never mind me, I'm just a rambling old man," he said and then winced shortly after the moment he realized what he said.
Brianna raised an eyebrow. She heard such rhetoric before, but not from him. Her work forgotten, she leaned forward with some evident interest.
"Are you being intriguingly vague on purpose, Doctor, or are you normally this eccentric?" she asked.
He pursed his lips as if annoyed by his obvious slip ups. Brianna felt beyond entertained by such a factor. There was something, endearing about him that she couldn't quite place. She was beginning to realize that the more time she spent with him, the more she felt her original irritation towards him fade. In all honesty, she realized that she was charmed despite herself.
Deciding that being charmed by a man she barely knew, Brianna decided against letting it show. In any case, he was too entertaining, so the young woman succeeded in looking merely amused.
"What exactly are you in school for?" he asked in an attempt to change the subject.
Brianna thought for a moment to pursue the previous conversation, but decided against it. It would be wrong to interrogate a complete stranger.
"I'm going for history and specializing in myths and culture of civilizations," she replied.
"Why?" he asked.
She smirked and replied, "Why not?"
Something flashed in his green eyes. Was that intrigue or acute interest? Was it possibly excitement?
As odd as it was, this marked the beginning of their acquaintance and Brianna couldn't say that she regretted it.
The End... for now
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