Hello everyone! While I want to keep this quick so you can get to the story, there are some things I think are worth mentioning. This is my first Doctor Who story. At the time of this publishing, I have written nine stories for Harry Potter. If you're interested you can go check those out. This is the first time I am attempting a DW story and I hope that I keep the Doctor in character. Simply writing this chapter I realized how difficult he is to write, especially since there are multiple (11) versions of him and they are all basically the same just slightly different. Considering this is my first attempt, I think that I kept him mostly in character and if not, then it is something I will definitely try to improve on as the story progresses.

I don't own Doctor Who. I wish I did but I don't. That's just life I guess.

Please feel free to review. I would love to hear back from the readers so I can try to improve the characters and their interactions. oh! I almost forgot to mention. I am either going to be splitting each episode up into two or three parts, maybe even four. I'm not exactly sure yet because I have just recently gone back to school and with my other story series in hp still in progress, I don't know how often I will be updating. I am hoping for at least once a week so we'll see how that goes. If it changes, I'll be sure to let the readers know.

That is all. Please enjoy.


The sun had just broken over the horizon in Cardiff, signaling the beginning of the day for many of the town's inhabitants. Men woke up to put the fire on to warm the house back up while women roused the children so they could finish their early morning chores. There had been snow the night before, surprising the children who quickly finished their chores to play in the snow.

The town was just being to come back to life, the townspeople waking up to start another day. That is, all except one.

Men, women, and children alike passing by the bakery unknowingly smiled from the dulcet aroma wafting from the store front. The baker was always the first to rise to begin making her fresh pastries, breads, and cakes every single morning.

The bell chimed over the door as the woman left her shop. Her mahogany hair was pulled up into an intricate but still simple bun to keep the hair out of her face. Her dress was just as practical and beautiful as her hair. It was intense black velvet with a deep green sash tied around her waist. She had her thick, floor length woolen coat on. The dress and the coat were both a bit long in the back, trailing behind her. On her arm, she held the handle to a basket that released a bit of steam from the hot good inside.

"Merry Christmas, Ma'am!" One of the youths shouted as he ran past, dodging a snowball his friend threw.

She plastered a fake, well rehearsed smile on her face when she recognized the boy. "Merry Christmas to you as well, Thomas. A muffin for you to share with your sister," she said as she pulled the said muffin out of her basket. "Your mother mentioned that she was taken ill yesterday."

The young boy's eyes lit up at the offered treat. He remembered for his last birthday his father had taken him to the Bakery to pick out a treat and it was the best chocolate muffin he had ever tasted.

"Thank you ma'am!" He gleefully smiled and took the offered treat. His smile widened when the smell of the muffin reached his nose. It was heavenly.

She smiled kindly at him but mock sternly shook her finger at him, "It is of no trouble. Just see to it that Catherine gets her fair portion."

With assurance that he would give half to his sister, Thomas turned and ran home with the wonderful Christmas present.

She watched him go with a soft smile on her face though her eyes were pained. Seeing the young boy run off to his sister should have made her so happy now that he had a treat to share, but it only caused sadness.

"You didn't have to do that, you know?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the unexpectedly close voice. Her left hand flew to her chest to calm her racing heart. "Captain Harkness, you startled me."

The handsome man simply laughed, "That's not the only reason your heart is racing, Miss Baker. Simply being in my presence sends it into a flutter."

She put her hand on her hip and glare at him, "How many times have I requested you cease this incessant flirting, Captain?"

"As many times as I've told you to call me Jack, my dove."

"Captain," she put extra emphasis on his name, "please leave me to my own peace. I do not wish to spend any more time with you than necessary."

He offered her his arm, despite her previous statement. She blatantly ignored it began walking down the street. Jack skipped forward and jogged to catch up with her.

"I know. But it doesn't mean a man can't dream, can he? Besides, you looked so sad just then. I can't have my Dove looking so sad."

"I am undoubtedly not your Dove, Captain. My private matters are not to be discussed with anyone, certainly the likes of you." She responded coldly.

Jack feigned hurt but continued to match pace with her, "Aww, come on, give a poor bloke a reason."

She eyed him out of the corner of her gaze, noting the finely made wool overcoat he wore and the shining black shoes on his feet. "You are not a poor bloke by anyone's standards, Captain Harkness. Now please, before I call upon the authorities, leave."

"Lillian," Jack began, reaching for her hand to stop her. The second his hand touched hers, she jumped back as if she had been burned. She cradled her hand to her chest and stared at him, startled and honestly terrified.

"You're wrong," she whispered horrified. "You are horribly wrong."

With that, she quickly made her way down the street, blending in with the growing crowd. She could still feel her heart beating erratically in her chest, panic and fear settled in her heart.

A beautifully familiar face calmed her a great deal. She only had a few friends in Cardiff, but there was one she trusted above all the others.

"Gwyneth!" Lillian said happily once she was across the street.

Gwyneth's eyes widened and she immediately looked down and curtsied briefly before murmuring, "Miss Baker."

Lillian shook her head, "Gwyneth, what are you doing? We're friends, are we not?"

The servant girl looked flustered, "Of course Ma'am…Miss…Lillian. It's just that we're in public. It's not proper!"

Lillian rolled her eyes and shook her head, "You've been my friend since as long as I can remember—"

"Which isn't that long," Gwyneth cut her off, teasing her. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, "I'm sorry! I meant no offense!"

Lillian's eyes crinkled with mirth, "None taken. I'll admit, I may not have the best memory but you're still the closest friend I have here."

Gwyneth considered that for a moment as she grabbed a few more flowers from the cart she was standing next to, "I must ask Lillian, as a friend, are you and Captain Harkness intending to get betrothed?"

"Heaven's no!" Lillian said scandalized. "That man is easily the bane of my existence! He is nothing but a nuisance and his odd ways unsettle me greatly. Besides, there is just something wrong about him. I can't put my finger on it, but he is wrong."

"It might be the accent Lillian," Gwyneth suggested.

Lillian shook her head, "It is more than that. I've met people from the Colonies before and I've never had this feeling around them. It's almost like he doesn't belong here, in this time and place."

"Are you suggesting time travel, Miss?" her companion asked incredulously.

"Dear me, no. That would be utterly absurd," she asserted, before dreamily looking a distance off. "It would be wonderful though. To go back and see the people you've lost one last time, just to let them know."

Gwyneth watched her friend sadly, Lillian's sad blue eyes filling with memories of her past. "You're thinking about them again, aren't you?" she asked as she placed a comforting hand on Lillian's shoulders.

"This is the first holiday I'll spend without Vincent since I was eight." Lillian admitted softly. "The accident occurred only seven months past."

"But don't you have a family?"

Lillian shook her head, sadness and pain beyond what a woman of her age should have experienced shone in her eyes. "No, no, not anymore."

"It's horrible for anyone to spend the holidays alone."

"Then why don't you join me, Gwyneth. I shall make us supper then we can go listen to Mr. Dickens's reading. It would be such a grand time."

She shook her head sadly, "Oh, no, Miss. Mr. Sneed needs my help tonight since Mrs. Pearce just passed. We've got so much to prepare and her grandson is coming tonight to view the body."

"Here then," Lillian reached into her basket and grabbed a pull plate of muffins and cookies. "She was a dear whenever she came into the Bakery and Mr. Redpath was just as kind. Please send my regards."

"Of course, Lillian." She took the plate and placed it into her own basket she was carrying.

After barely a second's thought, Lillian also pulled out a small box, which inside of it was a vanilla cake with red and green frosting. "Since you cannot join me tonight for supper, please take this."

Gwyneth's eyes widened when she saw the delicacy inside the box. That was nearly half a year's wages in there! "Oh, Miss, I couldn't possibly! This is too much—you shan't just give this away—I—I," she stuttered as she tried to hand it back.

Lillian placed her hands over Gwyneth's shaking ones. "It is a gift. Please, I want you to have this. You're a dear friend and you work so hard. You deserve a little happiness every once in a while."

"As do you, Lillian," she said hoarsely in a voice that wasn't truly hers, "Your tortured past haunts you in the darkness, in your dreams," her eyes had glazed over yet she still stared straight into Lillian's eyes as if she could penetrate her soul. Her hands tightened around Lillian's, trapping the woman. "So much love and so much lost. The blue box, traveling through time and space is your sanctuary. A life full of metal men, forgettable creatures from the dawn of time, green lizard men, tortured angels causing so much pain, their touch cold and fearful—Oh! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Gwyneth blubbered, petrified that she had scared her friend.

"It is fine," Lillian said slowly, still trying to process everything she just heard. Her eyes were wide, staring down at the hand Gwyneth had just released. "I should be getting back to the shop."

"Of course. Mr. Sneed is probably wondering where I am. I told him I'd only be gone a few minutes."

"Farewell, Gwyneth. Perhaps I'll stop by after the hearing Mr. Dickens speak."

Lillian turned to leave, her head ducked down as she fought against the cold. There was a chill in the air and the growing clouds over head foretold of snow later in the day.

"Don't go." Gwyneth said suddenly, rushing forward to stop Lillian from walking away.

"Don't go where?" Lillian questioned, confused as to why she was stopped.

"Don't go to the theater tonight. Please." Gwyneth begged.

Although she wasn't sure as to why her friend didn't want her to go, she knew that Gwyneth seemed to have a sixth sense. She couldn't explain it but she couldn't deny Gwyneth's ability. "Alright. I'll stay in tonight."

Gwyneth sighed in obvious relief, "Thank you."

"It is no problem. Just swear to me that you will be safe as well. I expect you to answer the door tomorrow morning for your bread delivery." Lillian said in a motherly way as she gave Gwyneth a brief hug.

Gwyneth smiled at her concern and nodded, "Of course."

With that, the two friends separated. Lillian went back to her bakery while Gwyneth went back to Mr. Sneed's home. When Lillian walked into her store, which was underneath her house, she threw her coat over the counter and threw her apron over her head and tied it behind her as she moved to the back baking area. She paused in front of a picture, reaching out to touch the frame.

It was a simple picture. Well, not really a picture, more a sketch if anything else. The only instrument used as a quill, drawing out the inside of different clocks over lapping. It had been a game when they were younger figuring out what the inside of watches and clocks looked like at different times. Sometimes, they would spend hours laying on their stomachs in his front room, simply watching the mechanics of the grandfather clock spin. It was the first drawing he had done and the only one that remained after that horrible day…

"Oh Vincent…" Lillian said forlornly as gently ran her finger over the edge of the frame. "Why did you have to leave from this world so soon?"

The sound of the bell ringing over the door brought her back to the present as she reminisced. She shook herself out of her musings and returned to the front of the store.

"I apologize for the inconvenience but the bakery doesn't open for another half hour," Lillian said as she walked into the front of store.

"I'm quite aware, Lover. You aren't an easy woman to find. I'll give you a proper scolding later." The woman said demurely with a suggestive wink.

Lillian jumped back at the bold words from the bold looking woman. Her hair was a mess of violent curls and there was a demure smile on her face. Her dress was just as shocking as her hair. She wore a thick black bodice that drew the eye towards her breasts. Her sleeves were made of a transparent material and looked as though it was a second skin. Her skirt was a few inches off the floor, exposing her black heeled boots. The skirt itself was voluminous and blacker than midnight with pickups throughout.

"Pardon me?!"

The woman's face faltered and she seemed to realize something horrible. "Please, Love, tell me you know who I am."

Lillian shuffled back, hiding herself behind the counter, trying to think of a way to get the imposing woman out of her bakery. "I fear I have no recollection of meeting you before."

The woman looked heartbroken but amazed at the same time. It didn't make sense to Lillian. Why would seeing her cause that reaction? "Are you alright?" Lillian questioned, feeling her heart go out to the crushed woman.

"My friend and I have lost someone very near and dear to us both. You look…you look a great deal like her." She said, her voice thick with melancholy and disappointment.

"I'm sorry." And she truly was. The brass woman, no matter how offensive, clearly was suffering from a loss of a dear friend; something Lillian could certainly sympathize with.

The woman chuckled, "Not as sorry as I am."

Lillian reached into one of the shelves and pulled out a muffin she had made a night before. She was going to donate them to the orphanage later that morning but this woman looked like she needed something. "Here, take this. I know the ache of losing someone you love with your heart of hearts. The pain does not go away, I'm afraid. You simply learn to endure the never ending torment."

The woman accepted the muffin, the first genuine smile spreading over her face when she smelled the treat. "Oh, I've missed this." At Lillian's questioning gaze, she elaborated, "Home cooking."

"RIVER! RIVER! DID YOU FIND HER?!" A man shouted down the street, he ran past the store front window, a hand on his bowler hat to keep it on as he sprinted. He saw them out the corner of his eye and tried to turn around on the spot. He failed and instead went crashing into bench on the side of the street. Lillian gasped and went towards the front door to make sure the man had not seriously harmed himself. River, Lillian assumed that was the woman's name, held her hand out to stop her.

"Don't worry, Love. He's fine. You'll learn he always is."

Lillian did not have time to question the ominous way River said it. The man jumped to his feet at an astoundingly fast speed. "Yowza!" He exclaimed, holding onto his jaw in apparent pain. He spun around to face the women through the window. He froze and his face morphed from one of frantic panic into one of serenity and joy, like a man who had found his absolution. Then, slowly, a brilliantly beautiful smile spread across his face and he rushed into the dinner, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

He opened his mouth to say something but River stepped forward, blocking his view of Lillian, and placed a consoling hand on his arm, "It's not her," she muttered softly, trying to break the news to him as gently as possible.

"What do you mean?" The softness that had been his face not just moments ago hardened into a cold, just barely controlled rage. "She's standing right behind you."

Lillian squared her shoulders, straightened her back, and held her head up high like her mother taught her. She gathered her courage and walked around the counter and stood in front of the man who simply stared at her with a penetrating gaze.

"My name is Lillian Baker. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." She curtsied slightly.

Horrible realization crashed over the man like a tidal wave. The man smiled, though his eyes spoke of a whole world of unimaginable pain. "Lillian Baker," he said the name reverently, "a name right out of a fable. It is my honor to meet you." He gently held on her hands in his own and brought it up towards his mouth and kissed the back of it. "If you don't mind me asking, what is the month, date, and year?"

She looked at him oddly, unable to believe that had somehow managed to forget not just the day nor the month, but the year as well! "It's the 25th of December in the year of our Lord eighteen-hundred and sixty-nine."

His eyes widened comically. He grabbed the woman by the arm and practically shoved her out of the store, "We need to go now! This is about to get messy!"

Lillian followed the unnamed man and the scandalous woman down the street, trying to figure out the mystery behind him. "Sir!" She shouted at their quickly retreating figures as they shoved their way through the Christmas crowd. Her skirt hindered her pursuit but she internally cheered when she saw the pair duck down and alley she knew to be a dead end. No more than thirty seconds later, she came to the end of the alley only to see what looked like a faded blue cloud dissipate and the oddest noise she had ever heard in her life. The only thing she could liken it to was the factory she once had to travel past.

But none of that was important to her. What was more pressing in her mind was the fact that the mysterious and shocking pair had disappeared into the mist, gone from this world. Lillian blinked multiple times as if clearing her eyes would allow her to see the two humans who had disappeared from existence. How had they done it? She pondered. She walked down the alley, checking the walls for any doors that were left ajar in haste or any holes that would facilitate their escape. She found nothing.

Knowing that she had work to do and need not concern herself with the oddities of her odd visitors, she returned back to her bakery.

After a long day of baking and selling her goods, Lillian retreated to her quarters above the shop. She didn't have the energy to change instead she simply collapsed onto her bed, wishing for once that she dream of the past. Normally, she would pray for not dreams but during this time of year, she longed for any reminder of her past life. The days she was happy and he was alive and all was so perfect…

With those thoughts forefront in her mind, she accidentally drifted off to sleep, forgetting about the meal she had planned for herself. Tonight, she would dine with the dead in her dreams.

She didn't know how much time had elapsed since she had fallen asleep but when a loud explosion tore apart the joyous and calm town, she was jolted awake. She blinked rapidly as she tried to wake up. In the pitch dark, she couldn't see a single thing so she stumbled through the darkness and lit a candle. When she heard shouts of men from the streets, she rushed to her window and looked down. All the men in the town seemed to be running towards something, all of them carrying buckets.

A horrible feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Something was terribly wrong. Then the smell of smoke wafted towards her and the dance of fire danced above the rooftops two streets over. The sound of the river rushing past her was the only thing she could hear when, with sick realization, she recognized that was where Mr. Sneed lived, and by extension, Gwyneth. The next moments were a blur. She vaguely recalled running down her steps and out the door, following the stream of men carrying buckets.

She recalled one of the men turning to her and telling her to go back to her home but she ignored him and continued to run, running towards her hell on Earth. The worst imaginable pain was beginning to blossom in her chest as she recalled this exact situation occurring seven months ago. She prayed that this time, her fear was feeding off her irrationality. Perhaps she was simply still asleep in her bed, trapped in a nightmare. It wouldn't be the first time.

Her heart stopped when she came to a skidding halt in front of Mr. Sneed's home. Time seemed to slow down around her. Some men were throwing buckets of water and a few women and children were watching in twisted interest. There were flames still licking at the edge of the broken windows, the smell of gasoline still strong.

"No," she whispered horrified. "Not again, please dear God, not again," she begged. Then time began to speed up again as she ran towards the house. Once she was free from the throng of the people watching, she ran towards the house.

A hand reached out around her waist and pulled her back at the last moment. She struggled against the hold, kicking and screaming that she had to go get her friend. Her friend was in there! Why didn't this man understand that?

"Ma'am, please, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Your friend is gone."

The worst thing about his voice was that he did sincerely sound sorry. Eventually, she stopped struggling against his hold and instead collapsed against him. He sank to the ground, still holding her tight. Another hand, a softer slender hand rested on upper back. The man moved her around so that while she was sitting on the ground, not even caring that the snow was getting in her dress, he was crouched in front of her. She raised an eyebrow at his odd dress but didn't have the heart to say anything.

He cupped her face and wiped away her tears before rubbing his arms on her upper arms, trying to comfort her and warm her at the same time. He looked up at someone behind her and she felt something come down around her shoulders, protecting her from the cold.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Lillian Baker," she responded hoarsely, tears still streaming down her face and soul shattering pain still tearing apart at her heart.

The man smiled sadly, "Lillian Baker, it's my pleasure to meet you. I'm the Doctor."

She looked at him oddly, "Doctor who?"

The man smiled, like he enjoyed that question being asked. "Just the Doctor."

"My friend," she asked, ignoring the fact that the man in front of her didn't have a name, "she's trapped in that building. Her name's Gwyneth and she has such a beautiful soul! She may just be a servant but she deserves to be saved. Please, let me go." She begged, trying to get to her feet and run back into the building.

The Doctor shook his head sadly and restrained her from moving. He looked up at the person behind her. Lillian turned, her eyes filled with tears, for the first time seeing a blonde woman, standing there in man's trousers and a scandalously revealing top, her arms not covered and the shirt made of nightdress material.

"I'm sorry, Lillian," the woman said. "we tried to save her but she died saving us."

"No," Lillian protested, a new wave of hysteria overcoming her. "NO! She's alive! She promised! She promised me!" She sobbed, collapsing in towards herself. She covered her face with her hands and was bent over so severely that her forearms rested against her legs. She felt the move familiar feminine hand on her shoulder that eventually pulled her into a comforting embrace. The Doctor stood up, placing his hands in his pockets, his long jacket opening to reveal the oddest suit that Lillian had ever seen.

"Lillian, you need to get out of the cold," The Doctor advised gently. He could see that the fire was now extinguished and no doubt they would be taking out the bodies soon.

With all the fight drained from her, Lillian nodded and allowed the pair to help her to her feet. She sluggishly followed them, not even questioning the fact that they somehow knew where she lived. However, she did question the woman, "I'm afraid that I do not know your name," she pointed out.

The blonde woman smiled, a slight and endearing gap between the two front teeth, "Name's Rose Tyler."

"At least you actually have a name," Lillian muttered, shooting a glance over at the man that asserted his name was simply 'The Doctor'.

Rose laughed and linked her arm with Lillian's. "He's a bit of an odd ball, that one."

"Oi!" The man protested, his face comically becoming offended. "What's wrong with being a little odd?"

Rose gave him a clearly unamused look, "A little? Licking blood sound familiar?"

"That was only once!" He protested loudly. "And I was still cooking!"

"Once too many times in my opinion," Rose retorted dryly.

Lillian eventually stopped listening to their playful bickering. She simply felt numb. From the day she stepped foot in Cardiff, Gwyneth had been her greatest friend. And now she was gone. Just like all the others, she was gone. Dead; Lillian wasn't even sure how she had died. Had she been burned alive? Maybe she was mercifully spared that death and been dead before the fire started. Lillian certainly hoped that it was the latter of those options.

Her musings were cut short when she saw a large, impossibly blue box in the alley the man and woman had disappeared in earlier. Rose and the Doctor didn't seem to notice that she had stopped walking, Gwyneth's words from earlier that day painfully ringing in her head.

"Lillian," the Doctor said, his usual jovial smile gone from his face. He was now staring at her seriously, unimaginable worlds and knowledge in his eyes. "You need to breathe, alright?"

She gulped nervously and nodded, not even realizing that she had stopped breathing. She took a few deep breaths and found her words, "What is that?"

"She's called the TARDIS. She's my spaceship."

Lillian felt faint. "Spaceship?"

He nodded grimly, "I'm not human. I'm an alien. I was born on a different planet light years away and I'm over nine hundred years old. My spaceship doesn't just travel through space. She also travels in time."

"Time?" Lillian squeaked.

Rose nodded, "And we," she looked at the Doctor in confirmation, the man nodding before she continued, "would like you to join us."

"Me? Why me?" Lillian questioned, unable to believe anything the pair said. She had thought when she woke up that morning everything would be normal but then she meets the scandalous woman, the tortured mad-man, then her friend is killed in a fire, and now this pair want her to travel in time and space.

"Why not?" Rose questioned. "We were sent here to get someone and we run into your first. If there's something I've learned this past year traveling is that you never ignore coincidence."

The Doctor held out his hand for her, "So what do you say, Lillian Baker, ready to see the starts?"

Every instinct in her told her to turn and run as fast as she possibly could from these two lunatics. But then she heard a voice in her head that she hadn't heard for seven months, one week, and four days. "Live a little, Lils. If not for yourself, live for me."

With her mind made up, she reached out and grabbed the Doctor's hand. He beamed at her, his brown eyes lighting up like a child when given a particularly wonderful treat. "Fantastic! Allonsy!" He pulled her forward, Rose beaming as she opened the door. He let go of her hand as he skipped up to the middle of the impossibly large room. Lillian froze in the doorway while Rose simply smiled at her when she walked past to join the Doctor on the platform.

Lillian stared in shock at her surroundings. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before.

"So Lillian, what do you think?" the Doctor questioned her, goading her towards an answer.

She didn't look at his eager face. Instead, she walked forward, picking up her skirts slightly when she walked up the ramp to where the pair was standing, anxiously watching her reaction to the machine. Lillian hesitantly reached out and ran her hand on the edge of the circular console in the middle. "She's magnificent."

"Oh yes, she is," the Doctor said fondly, his smile even wider that his newer companion found his ship beautiful. But he still wanted to hear his favorite bit. "And what about the shape? Anything interesting since you saw the outside?" he questioned as he darted around the console, hitting that part and kick this one while flickering another.

Lillian seemed contemplative as she looked around the amazing room she was in. She knew the Doctor wanted her to say something specific and Rose was laughing silently as his antics. Suddenly, Lillian realized what he wanted and snapped her fingers, "She's circular on the inside!"

"Exat—what?" The Doctor started out shouting happily but ended up looking at her like she had grown a second head.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she elaborated, "The outside was square but inside it is circular."

The Doctor started at her, gob smacked while Rose nearly doubled over with laughter. "She's got you there Doctor," Rose said between laughs.

"Oh well," the Doctor said in defeat. He flipped one last switch and then turned to look at Lillian with an expectant look on his face, "So what do you say, Lillian Baker, ready to see the starts?" He jumped to the door and dramatically waited a moment before he threw the doors open.

Lillian's mouth dropped. The Doctor smiled widely. This was the exactly why he did what he did. To see the look of wonder and amazement on each of his companion's face the first time they saw the wonders of the universe – he would never tire of it.

She stepped forward and looked at the breath taking scene in front of her. Her mind couldn't comprehend what she was seeing. Bursts of color shot past them, a star nearby flared, creating an elegant curve in the night sky. Other stars farther away twinkled like diamonds. In that moment, Lillian had never felt smaller, insignificant, or greater in her entire life.

Unbeknownst to her, tears started falling down her cheeks. The Doctor placed a hand on her shoulder in concern, worry building up in him as more tears fell. He knew that everyone reacted differently and maybe he had thrown too much at her in such a short period. Her friend had just died not an hour ago and he was already showing her the deep end. At least he didn't take her to the end of the Earth…that might have been a bit much, he realized when looking back on his decision. His ninth self really didn't think that through….

"Lillian, is it too much?" He asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. Rose walked over to join them, and enjoy the view, and she too grew concerned when she saw Lillian's distress.

Lillian jumped at the sudden contact. "Of course not! This is the most stunning thing I have ever dreamed to see," she said in awe as she continued to stare at the picture in front of her.

"Then why are you crying?" Rose asked.

Reaching up, Lillian was shocked when her hands came away from her cheeks wet with tears. "I don't know."

"We'll give you a moment," the Doctor promised. "We'll be right up there. Holler if you need anything."

Lillian nodded and waited until the two of them went back to the area where the glowing green tube was surrounded by all the buttons. She looked out at the magnificent scene in front of her and could never remember feeling more content any other time in her life. There was only one thing in the entire universe that would make this moment better but she knew it was impossible.

"Oh, Vincent, I wish you were here with me," she whispered as she looked out into the great expanse of space. With that thought, she settled down on the ground, simply watching the universe go by in all its majestic glory.