OneShot

Author's Note: Okay. This will be in my main story, but not yet. Just thought I'd upload this for laughs.

Down a hidden alleyway of Storybrooke was the Doctor, still in his night clothes. He was scrummaging around in some garbage cans, when Elsa walked up behind him. She was still new in town, and hadn't known who was who. She saw him, bent over a mirror and looking at it. She approached him, and cleared her throat.

The Doctor turned around. "Bitey?"

"Bitey?" Elsa asked back, not understanding what this strange man was talking about.

"The air ... It's bitey. It's wet and bitey."

Elsa looks around, trying to interpret what he was saying. This was unusual weather, to say the least, and she had a feeling it was coming from her.

She masked her fear as she nodded, "Yes, quite...bitey..."

The Doctor nodded. "I need, um ... I need clothes. need clothes, that's what I need. And a big, long scarf. No, no. Move on from that. Looked stupid." He turned away for a moment, then looked back at Elsa. "Have you seen this face before?"

Elsa stepped back slightly. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Sir, I don't think I've ever seen your face before. I'm new here."

"Fair enough. Now, it's funny because I'm sure that I have. You know, I never know where the faces come from. They just pop up. Zap. Faces like this one. Come on, look at it, have a look, come on, look, look, look," the Doctor said, as he pulled Elsa to the ground mirror. "Look, it's covered in lines. But I didn't do the frowning. Who frowned me this face? Do you ever look in the mirror and think I've seen that face before?"

Elsa nodded. "When I look in the looking glass."

"Well, My face is fresh on, though. Why this one? Why did I choose this face? It's like I'm trying to tell myself something. Like I'm trying to make a point. But what is so important that I can't just tell myself what I'm thinking?" The Doctor asked himself.

"I've asked myself this question my entire life.." She looks at her hands, inadvertently.

"You have?" Asked the Doctor.

Elsa realizes she said this aloud, "Oh...I mean, you heard that?" She was stumbling like her sister.

"Yes. New ears and all..."

Elsa blushes, "Well, I don't have new ears, but...something else..."

She looks down and slowly, steps down. Ice starts to form around her and the man, then travel down the alleyway.

He looked at the ice forming around them. "Oooo..." he said, then paused for a moment. "That's Scot... I am Scottish. I've gone Scottish?"

"If that's the oddest reaction to my magic, I've ever seen..." She steps aside.

"Oh, no. That's good. Oh-h ... Oh-h...It's good I'm Scottish. I'm Scottish..." he said, trying out his new accent. "I am Scottish. I can complain about things. I can really complain about things now..."

She inched away slowly, wondering if she freeze him, "Oh...well, I see..." She held up her hand, readying herself for when he made a move.

He inched closer. "Give me your coat..."

"My coat?! I don't have a coat! Are you daft? I am wearing a cape!" Her eyes narrowed as she readied to slap him.

"Fine. Give me your cape. I'm cold."

*Doesn't he see it's sorta connected to the dress?!* she thought! as she waves her hand and offers him another she formed, "Here..."

He takes it. "Thanks," he said, putting it on. "Wait..." He went back to the mirror. "It was here. It was here, it was..." he started rummaging through the trash again, til he picked up a newspaper with Belle and Mr Gold on the cover), and brought it over to her. "I can't believe I missed that..."

"Missed what?" She glanced at the paper, then swatted it down, "That bastard is here?!" Immediately, the paper froze and crashed to the ground. She started to pace the street, "Great, just great..."

He looked at her. "Well, I don't know what he did. But I'd probably blame the English."