Chapter One: The Man in the Bowtie

For Grace, it was just a slow, humdrum evening at the diner she worked at. It was always like this; she never expected anything else, anything…interesting to happen.

Until the mysterious, eccentric man in the bowtie showed up.

It was getting late, and the end of her shift was near, only a mere 30 minutes away. She looked at the clock longingly; only a half hour more, then she could go home and watch her show that she recorded. However, she still had customers to serve.

"Grace, take Table Seven," her best friend, Cassie, a cook, said from behind the order window.

"Got it," Grace replied and readied herself, armed with her pad of paper and pencil. She walked up to the table, not looking up as she did so. "Hello, what would you…" She trailed off as she finally looked up at the man at that table, and kind of stared.

The man was pretty young, with a hell of a chin. His hair was slicked back sort of, but, unlike how other guys did it, it looked attractive. He wore a tweed jacket, and the kicker: he wore a bright red bowtie along with it. It looked a little dorky, but cute.

She sort of smiled. "Hello…"

The man smiled back. "Hello!"

Grace was distracted for a second, then shook herself from her thoughts. "Um, I…um, I just wanted to know what you want to eat."

"Do you have Jammie Dodgers? Do you sell those?" the man asked. She didn't know whether he was serious or not, but decided to not question it.

"I'll…see what I can do…" she replied, slightly puzzled but slightly amused. She walked back to the order window with a tiny smile on her face.

"So? What's the order?" Cassie asked, annoyed. She noticed the smile on Grace's face. "What?"

Grace was whispering as she replied. "Did you see the guy at Table Seven?" She pointed her thumb back at the strange man. Cassie looked over Grace's shoulder at the man, and then looked back at her and smiled suggestively.

"Seriously? That's all you can think about with other men?" Grace questioned. "I swear, that's the only thing you think about."

"Never mind me. What does he want?"

"He asked if we had Jammie Dodgers," Grace said with a slight look of confusion. "Do we sell those?"

"No, but I keep a stash in my locker. You could use those."

"Thanks, Cass. You're a life saver." As Cassie walked to the back to get them, Grace turned to gaze at the man. At first, he didn't notice her looking, but then he turned his head and saw her. He smiled a bit; it was a cute smile. Grace blushed a little and then turned back to Cassie, who came back with an unopened pack of strawberry Jammie Dodgers.

"Thank you, Cass." She took the Jammie Dodgers and walked over to the table, setting them down in front of him. "You're in luck; my friend just happened to have some. Hope you like strawberry."

"Thank you!" he exclaimed. She smiled.

"They're free of charge, since we don't really sell them," she explained to him. The man looked up at her; there was a certain kind of…feeling showing in his eyes, and she couldn't figure it out.

But the man's eyes showed age; a tremendous amount of it for someone who looked so young. They were sparkling blue eyes…beautiful, old eyes…

After only a few seconds, she shook away those thoughts and checked her watch. Her shift was done.

"Well, enjoy." She walked away to go into the back lounge room and clock out. Once she did, she took her coat and purse from her locker. As she walked out, slinging her purse over her shoulder, she saw the man just as he was walking out. She stared after him, then she decided she wanted to follow him. As casually she could, she walked out the door and started in the same direction as him.

She wanted to figure out this mysterious, peculiar man for herself.

Grace followed a fair amount of distance behind him, so it wouldn't look suspicious. He turned the corner and, without making a lot of noise, she jogged up to the corner and peeked around it.

She saw him enter a 1960s-looking blue police box, and was perplexed. He lives in a police box? Grace thought.

Again, she decided to follow.

She sauntered up to the door as casually as she could. Taking the handle, she pulled on it, and surprisingly, it opened. Without thinking what was inside, she stepped in and closed the door behind her.

Nothing would prepare her for what she would see next.