The strange noise grew louder and louder in Anderson's living room. That unearthly wheezing groan had stirred memories from the back of his mind, memories that would decide to visit him suddenly on unexpected nights. Was this just another one of those midnight imaginings? It couldn't have been. First of all it was only 5 in the evening, the sky had only just begun to ink so it wasn't bedtime for ages; secondly his thoughts weren't usually as loud as this, and they were usually on the inside of his head. No. The familiar blue box he saw fading in and out of existence was the real! This was really happening!

Suddenly, all was silent. The box had now become solid. Barely a second had passed before the door of the box was flung open and out emerged a man wearing a tweed suit, complete with bow tie (a fashion not fitting for a man as young as he was).
"Oh, hello!"

The Doctor.

"How are you?"

Anderson's eyes were stretched wide open, practically bursting out of their sockets, and his jaw dropped so low a bear could crawl in and hibernate for the winter (actually Readers, this is not true. It is just a hyperbole – an over exaggeration of things to create a dramatic effect – and I should probably warn you now that holding your mouth wide open will not attract wildlife, just funny looks from strangers).

"I…I…good…thanks… Doctor?"

"Oh, good! We have met then. Yes, love it when that happens." He lovingly scratched the T.A.R.D.I.S. with his forefinger, and then turned immediately back to Anderson with a Cheshire Cat grin embedded into his face. He casually walked over to him. "As for why I'm here I've…I…well, I've yet to figure that out. But isn't it nice to see friends!" He grabbed the face of the forensic scientist and planted a great big wet kiss on both of his cheeks. Anderson flailed at the kisses, completely unprepared for the sudden attack of affection from his surprise guest. That's not to say he didn't like it.
"I'm your friend, really?" He said, trying to hide the smile in his voice.
"Of course you're my friend! Everyone's my friend, you doubly so. I don't see why you would think otherwise. Oh… but then again I do have a knack of meeting people in the wrong order and I'm going to guess that if that's the case then I've probably met you more times than you've met me and probably aren't at the same stage in this relationship as I am." The Doctor unhanded Anderson's face. "Sorry." He said, and then became distracted by everything in the room. "But you know my name, or at least the name that I go by." He picked up a ceramic cat from the mantel piece, "So, presumably, we have met at least once, right?"
"Maybe, yeah…" Anderson looked around. He didn't have much stuff but enough to keep the Doctor entertained while he left the room. "Would you care for some tea?"

"That would be tremendous! Some biscuits too, if you have them."
"I do. You can just relax or look around or whatever it is you do." He went through the door and closed it behind him. He fell back against it, breathing slowly, trying to get himself together. And it wasn't easy because he had a frigging alien in his living room! But not just an alien, if it was just an alien then Anderson would probably have been able to keep some wits about him. No. This wasn't just an alien. This was The Doctor! The Oncoming Darkness; The Bringer of Darkness: The Man From The Garden Shed…

The Doctor had glimpsed over his shoulder just as Anderson disappeared into the kitchen. He hadn't been lying when he said that he didn't know what he was doing here. He had planned on watching the Jupiter rise from Tulaque 7, the finest and only space beach in this solar system, but no matter how many times he tapped in the co-ordinates, the T.A.R.D.I.S. would change them – setting the course for 21st Century Earth/Europe/Great Britain/England/London/Baker Street. Eventually, he gave up trying to take control and let his space ship take him where he needed to go because, wherever he was going, he was going for a reason. But, for some reason, when he found himself materializing in the living room of Dr. Mark Anderson's flat he knew that this time it wasn't just a social call. Actually, the Doctor had never met Anderson before, but Anderson, however, had met him… apparently. Since that he wasn't fully aware of his reasons for being here, the Doctor felt it best to go into 'Bestest Buddy' mode. It's really quite impressive how much information you could learn when you pretend you already know it all.

Anderson grabbed a plateful of biscuits and came back into the living room to put them on the table.

"I made these today with my daughter; she's a fan of sweet stuff. I hope you like them." He went back into the kitchen. The metal kettle on the stove began to scream, so he turned off the fire beneath it. He took down two mugs that hung from hooks on the wall and threw in a couple of tea bags. Steam rose up from the pouring water, dampening his fringe. He carried the mugs to the table.
"Enjoy."
He settled down in the chair opposite him.
"So, have you figured out why you're here or did you just…"
"These are fantastic!" The Doctor exclaimed, ignoring his question and spraying out a mouthful of biscuit.

"I like the round ones but the green ones have a better snap." He had yet to notice that these were actually Christmas cookies, the round ones being baubles and the green ones being fern trees." I simply must meet the chef! Where is she?"

Anderson chuckled to himself, "Iris?" He called. "Iris, come here! There's someone who would like to meet you!" A few second later little footsteps were heard from behind the T.A.R.D.I.S. followed by a door creaking. A tiny appeared from the edge of the blue box. " Come along now, it's alright." The rest of the child came into view.