As the winter winds litter London with lonely hearts
Oh the warmth in your eyes swept me into your arms
Was it love or fear of the cold that led us through the night?
For every kiss your beauty trumped my doubt.

And my head told my heart
Let love grow
But my heart told my head
This time no
This time no.

-Mumford & Sons

Chapter 1

Molly Hooper slowly made her way around the morgue, checking to make sure everything was in perfect condition. Her eyes searched for any flaw: any drawer not closed, any paper out-of-place. Pleased with the state of her workplace, she turned off the lights, fumbled for the keys, and locked the door on her way out. She adjusted the strap of her bag and fixed the scarf around her neck. With a sigh, she climbed up the dark stairs and out into the empty lobby.

The pale moonlight shone through the tiny glass windows high above her head, settling in pools on the black speckled tiles. The shuffle of her red snow boots echoed throughout the building. Molly could hear the faint voices and the hum of machines from the other end of the hospital, and knew the emergency room was still bustling even at such a late hour. She sighed as she pushed the door open, allowing the cold wind to wrap around her in a grateful embrace. There wasn't much company for the winter wind these days, so it welcomed the tiny, warm figure leaving the hospital. There was no one around as she turned down the road.

It was always so empty and cold on late nights like these. Spending her holiday at work wasn't what she had intended, and she wished she could have gone home hours ago. Tonight she had planned to unwrap a box of biscuits, open a bottle of wine, and watch her favourite books under a blanket in her room. But she knew she shouldn't complain. There were many others who worked longer, harsher hours than her. She remembered the emergency room, and knew the E.R. staff was working around the clock, trying their best to fulfill the needs of every person who passed through their doors.

There weren't many people around this hour of the night. The street was empty save for a few drunken revelers. They stumbled down the street, singing Christmas carols loudly to their sloshing mugs of ale. Molly avoided their stare as she hurried down the street in the opposite direction.

"Hey, you over there!" one of the men jeered.

Molly's pace began to quicken. The group started to amble across the road to her side of the street.

"Where'er you off too, sweetheart?" another man yelled after her. "Why don't you pop on over here? I can keep you warm all night long, baby!"

Ignore them, Molly told herself, disgusted. They don't know what they're saying, they're stoned out of their minds.

She continued her brisk walk away from the group. Eventually they gave up, and their figures slowly faded back into the darkness. The bitter wind began to pick up, snapping her scarf across her face and causing strands her hair to dance violently. The street was now empty. The quiet settled in along with the snow that was beginning to fall.

Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper, he had said.

Stupid, stupid Molly, she thought. Always trying for something you can't get. Always making a fool out of yourself. No wonder he doesn't like you. You're not special, you're not beautiful, you're not a genius. You're just you.

She stopped in her midst.

"Just for once," she mumbled to no one. "Why can't I be special? Why can't I be extraordinary? Why can't I do great things?" She started to feel her anger creep up from deep inside her.

"For one day in my life," her voice started to pick up. "Why can't I be special?!"

The street echoed with her words. Special. Special. Special.

Then the words began to change. She closed her eyes and saw the words melt. She watched in horror as they sluggishly reformed.

Go away, she thought. Leave me alone. They ignored her silent pleas. They crawled down the street, reaching for her, crying to be noticed, pleading to be heard. Her head pounded as she took a step forward.

Ordinary, they cooed.

One more step.

Boring, they purred.

The faster she walked, the more the words bombarded her. Flakes of snow settled onto her pink cheeks, melting upon the touch.

Ugly. Boring. Ordinary. Plain. Stupid. Useless. Waste. Boring. Ordinary.

Molly continued her walk, forcing herself to concentrate on far-off lights, the fading stars, footsteps in the snow. Anything but the words that clawed at her skin. She wouldn't allow herself to cry. She just focused on pushing herself forward. She was one block away from her flat, but she stopped at the corner.

And then, as swiftly as they came, the words were gone. Everything was quiet again. She sighed with relief. The snow began to thicken. To her left was an abandoned alleyway, which she usually avoided. On the day she moved there, she had wanted to explore, and had found a decomposing body lying among the trash. Regardless of her profession, it had managed to give her quite the fright. After that day, she wouldn't allow herself even a glance down the alley.

But tonight, Molly could sense something different. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something flashing. Against her wishes, she turned to face the dark passage. At the end of the alley, she spotted a patch of bright blue. Squinting through the accumulating snow, she could see what looked to be some sort of large box. Unable to curb her curiosity, she started down the alley. As she made her way cautiously towards the structure, she noticed it was a type of box. It was more of a...booth. She noticed there were words across the top. Straining her eyes, she read the words: POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX. A police box? Her nose wrinkled in confusion.

"Hello?" she asked. Her voice was feeble in comparison to the wails of the wind. "Is anyone there?"

A shuffling noise came from inside the box. Startled, Molly dashed towards it. The noises began to grow in intensity. The closer she got to the box, the clearer the noises became, until she could distinguish speech. It sounds like yelling, she thought. Someone could be hurt, or trapped.

"Are you alright?" she yelled, banging on the side of the booth. Her mind began to race, preparing herself for the worst. The wind began to howl, causing snowflakes to scurry through the air. "Open up!" she pleaded.

She continued to knock harder on the side of the box. They must be stuck. I need to get in. She frantically searched for an entryway. The snow stuck to her eyelashes as she felt the surface of the box. Her hand connected with metal, and her fingers confirmed it was a handle.

Stupid Molly. You should have seen that earlier.

She fumbled for a grip on the door handle and shivered as her palm closed around its icy surface. "I'm coming in," she warned as she tugged against the handle. "Just give me a mo-"

Right as she pulled the door open, a sudden gust of wind knocked her from the box. She fell helplessly backwards into the street. Gazing up through the thickening snow, she saw the door snap open to reveal a young man standing in the doorway. He was dressed in a worn, brown trench coat, the bottom of it flying in every direction as he gripped the sides of the door.

"Who are you?" Molly found herself asking.

With a smile, he stretched out his hand. Her trembling fingers grazed his palm, searching for something to give her balance. She pulled herself up using the steadiness of his hand.

"Thank you," she mumbled as she felt him guide her inside the box. Her eyes closed as she sighed, the warmth curling around her frigid body. "But really, who are you?" she murmured as everything went black.

She felt a smooth voice against her ear.

"I'm the Doctor," it said.