Celia dashed through the rain, worry etched clearly on her face. She mentally cursed herself for being so stupid. She had been so lost in her book that she hadn't realized what time it was. She was late for the bus, and if she didn't get home soon, her mom was going to be furious with her.
Like she isn't furious with me anyway. Celia grumbled as she ran. No matter what she did, her mom got angry with her, so it seemed.
She wheeled around a corner, bag swinging and stuttered to a stop, breathing heavily. She checked her watch and groaned.
5:48. 3 minutes too late.
In desperation, she scanned the street for any signs of the bus. Maybe it was also late, and she might still be able to make it home on time. She frantically looked for the telltale lights and soot covered windshield, to no avail. A car rushed by and splashed her jeans with mucky water, but Celia didn't notice or care.
"Sorry, sweetheart, but you're too late." A rasping voice said from behind her.
She turned around. It was Larry, a homeless man who lived in an alley near her old apartment. When she was younger, she used to talk to him all the time, before her mother had found out and put a stop to it. A vague tangent of her mind wondered if he had ever received the card she had sent to him to apologize.
He gave her a small smile. "If you'd only been here a minute sooner, and you would have made it too!"
Celia sighed in defeat. Her mom was going to murder her.
Why didn't you set the alarm on your phone? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
She realized he was still standing there. "Thanks, Larry." She mumbled and turned to sit under the bus stop awning.
It provided only a little shelter, since the wind blew the rain in her face anyway. She glared out at the rain. It normally annoyed her to no end, causing her curly hair to frizz and soaking her clothes, but today, she reflected, it suited her mood perfectly.
"You know, the next bus doesn't come for half an hour."
Celia jumped, startled. Through the sound of tires splashing through the rain, and her own thoughts, she hadn't heard Larry come and sit down next to her.
He grinned at her, his blue eyes twinkling from underneath his Yankee's baseball cap. Aside from some new wrinkles, he looked the same as she remembered him. His long grey hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and his classic leather jacket, faded and worn from years of use, was zipped up tight against the cold.
He looked her up and down and shook his head, noting her lack of a sufficient jacket.
"Go and get yourself a cup of coffee," he said, nodding to the Starbucks across the street, "You're going to freeze to death out here."
She opened her mouth to protest. She couldn't leave, in case she missed the bus again, but stopped as he raised an eyebrow.
"Think about it, Celia, as hard as thinking is for you." He teased.
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Oh, shut up!" Larry grinned wider; reminding her of the father figure she had looked up to in her youth.
The more she thought about it, the better his suggestion was sounding to her. He had a point, she conceded, it was cold. A shiver wracked her, as if to prove his statement right. Plus, a good, strong, cup of coffee before she saw her mother would do wonders.
She made her decision and stood up. Larry winked as he saw it in her eyes.
"Good girl. I'll make sure the bus doesn't leave without you this time."
Celia gave him a big smile to thank him, and quickly crossed the busy street, narrowly missing getting hit by two cars. She winced as she saw her reflection in the glass, but she wasn't going to be able to do anything about that until she got home. She hesitated a second outside the door before sticking with her decision and going in. The warmth and quiet of the café was heaven compared to the outside world.
The Doctor strolled down the sidewalk humming to himself. This hair was slicked down and water droplets poured down his face like tears. The weather didn't bother him at all, in fact it reminded him of London, but he knew this wasn't London, or at least, any London he'd ever been to.
He ignored the strange looks some people were giving him, and smiled in return. They hastily looked away.
A car whizzed passed and the Doctor followed it with his eyes.
"Hmm. Judging by the technology, it looks like I'm somewhere in the early 21st Century." He muttered to himself, the grinned. "Brilliant! I love the 21st Century! So many interesting things to do," He looked around and his smile slipped for an instant. "Though perhaps not here… Can't judge a book by its cover, though, or so the saying goes!" And he grinned at a little old lady walking down the street. She gave him a look that implied she thought he was insane and hurried on her way.
The Doctor's stomach growled, and he frowned in surprise.
"I'm famished. I haven't eaten since… Well I can't even remember the last time I ate. I suppose that's bad…" He turned to his right.
"Is that ba-?" The question died on his lips and the excitement in his eyes faded. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Then he composed himself with a smile.
"Right, then. Better go find something to eat"
He continued walking down the sidewalk, noting curiously all the closed stores and buildings. The Starbucks caught his eye immediately, bright and warm in the middle of a bleak area.
"I could do with a cup of tea, though Starbucks is known for their coffee, so I suppose I could have that instead. What a funny word, coffee. COF-fee. Co-FEE." He went on about it until he opened the door and walked inside.
He took a minute to stare at the specials, and then walked up to the cashier who was texting on her phone.
She gave him a scathing look for a second before looking back down at her phone.
"We don't serve hobos."
"Oh, I'm not a hobo. Temporarily homeless, sure, but not a hobo. I'm the Doctor. Hello!" The Doctor said cheerily.
The woman looked back at him in disbelief. "Can I help you?" She asked in a bored voice.
Ah, yes, actually, I would like to have," The doctor scanned the display case. "One, of those, and that too, and then throw in a couple of those." The Doctor pointed out the various food items. "And also a coffee. Though Rose never let me have coffee. Said I was hyper enough as it was without adding caffeine. Rose was my, uh." He faltered for a moment "Uh…friend, you see."
Someone behind him coughed in apparent annoyance. The Doctor looked back. It was a young woman. Her soaked clothes stuck to her thin frame and her long brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. She was looking slightly ticked off at his rambling.
"Sorry. I get a bit carried away." He turned back to the cashier. Her nametag said Samantha in bold white letters. Samantha. The Doctor rolled that around his mind. He realized that she was staring at him.
"I'm sorry, what?" He said, adopting what he hoped to be a sincere face.
"I said, your total is $22. 75." She was staring at him suspiciously. "You have money to pay for all that, right?"
"Yes, of course!" He reached into his coat pocket and felt around. He grabbed a wad of cash and shoved it into Samantha's hands. Then he turned to go and grab his drink.
"Sir, we don't take pound notes." It was Samantha again, her opinion of him showing in her voice. She clearly thought he was an idiot.
A look of understanding passed through his eyes. "We're in America. Right. Ah, good, old, America!" He gave her a tight smile. "So, no, of course you don't."
He took his Sonic Screwdriver from his inner pocket and scanned the money with it, then handed it back. "There you go!"
The Cashier looked at it and her frown faded to astonishment. "Bu-!"
The Doctor smiled. "Keep the change."
He grabbed his coffee and his food, then on second thought, wandered over to the newspapers and grabbed one too. Sitting down at one of the tables, he pulled out his glasses and put them on, and opened the newspaper.
He frowned in confusion almost immediately. "Won't cha look at that." He said incredulously. "Four nearly identical deaths in the past month, alone."
"There no evidence of murder or foul play, and the police are stuck scratching their heads. Healthy people don't just drop dead, after all."
The Doctor looked up in surprise. It was the girl from the line, except now she was smiling and carrying a large steaming mug of coffee.
"Sorry." She said, and extended her hand. "I didn't introduce myself. I'm Celia. Celia Amsel. Do you mind if I sit down?" She asked gesturing to the empty seat.
"Oh! No! Not at all!" The Doctor replied quickly. He moved his food, and she sat down. "Amsel. That means blackbird in German. Did you know that?" He asked leaning forward across the table.
She gave him a curious glance. "I did, but not many people do. Are you German?"
"Ah. Nah. I've been there a couple of times, traveled and all, and I speak German rather well, if I do say so myself. " He frowned and leaned back in his chair. "Sorry, I'm the Doctor. Terribly rude of me and all, not telling you my name. I usually have someone to remind me of this sort of thing, but," He shrugged. "As you can see, they're not here right now."
He took a large bite of blueberry muffin to keep himself from rambling anymore. Celia laughed lightly.
"Your name's the Doctor? What kind of a name is that?"
The Doctor stared at her. "Well, what kind of a name is Celia Amsel?" He asked, then checked himself. "I'm being rude again, aren't I? Need to stop that."
"A doctor of what exactly?" Celia persisted, looking intrigued.
"Oh, you know," He waved his hands. "This and that. I'm talented at a lot of things." He smirked.
Celia grinned. "I'll take your word for it."
"That's not-…I mean-…what I meant was-!" The Doctor fumbled, flustered.
Celia snickered. "Oh, be quiet loverboy, it was a joke." She wrapped her hands around her mug. "The police say their hearts stopped."
It took the Doctor a second to realize that she was talking about the dead people again.
He gazed shrewdly at her. "But you disagree?"
She glanced up from her coffee. "As I said, healthy people don't just drop dead. I knew one of them, Steve Marlowe, and the day he died, he had just gotten a clean bill of health from his doctor." She shook her head bewilderedly. "I know something's fishy, I just don't know what it is."
The Doctor scrunched up his face. Then he leaned forward.
"What's the date again?"
It took Celia a moment. "Umm. The 1st of March 2013."
"Huh. I was right, 21st Century." He noted with a grin. "Never been here before though, and that's saying something. I 've been practically everywhere and everywhen." He boasted.
Celia opened her mouth to reply, when the door to the shop slammed with a BANG! She jumped at the sound, nearly spilling her coffee all over the Doctor in the process. The shop went silent, everyone turning to look at the person who had interrupted their peace.
"Sorry!" The young cop stood awkwardly at the center of attention. "I didn't…" He trailed off then sighed. "Sorry." He took off his cap, revealing a head of messy white blond hair that stuck up slightly in the back.
Once they realized that the intruder was only a young cop, people turned back to what they were doing, and soft chatter resumed. Recovering from his awkwardness, he walked up to the register.
The Doctor turned to Celia, beaming. "Here's our chance to find out what's happening."
She stared at him uncomprehendingly, then understanding flashed through her eyes. "What? You mean, now?" She gestured towards the officer.
"Do you know a better person or time to ask?" He stood up and stretched, then reached a hand out to help her up.
Bemused, she got up, and followed him to the cop. She smiled, amused at the intent expression on his face.
"Hello! I'm the Doctor. Nice to meet you!" He said in a rush, "Now, see, I was just passing through, seeing the sights and all, when I heard about these mystery deaths and I thought: Oh wow, that sounds interesting! Now who could I ask about those? And then you popped in and I thought you looked pretty qualified to tell me about them, so what do you say?"
"Wh-"
"Brilliant!" The Doctor said with an excited grin, and he bounced up and down on the balls of his feet.
The cop looked back and forth between them both, a nervous expression on his face. It was obvious to Celia he didn't know what to do. She gave him a warm smile as encouragement.
"Are you new here?" She inquired.
He nodded, and gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Look…I-I don't think I'm really qua-qualified to tell you anything. You should probably ask the chief. He's down by some bookstore investigating another death."
"Another one?" The Doctor asked, eyebrows raised. "That's completely unacceptable!"
The young officer looked at him confused.
"Ignore him." Celia advised. "The death is by the bookstore you said?" She didn't wait for a reply, and turned to the Doctor. "I know where that is!"
"Well, then, what are we waiting for? Let's go!" He grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the store, without looking back.
"But what about your coffee?" She protested halfheartedly.
"900 years and you think I would have remembered! I hate coffee!" He exclaimed.
"What about MY coffee?"
"I doubt you hurt it's feelings by leaving it behind."
Across the street, a large blue bus slowed to a grinding halt. Celia wrenched her hand from the Doctor's and paused, conflicted. He stopped and turned around to her, his face a masking the hurt from her rejection, and regarded her carefully before speaking.
"Sorry. I'm used to having someone with me, and I guess I got a bit…carried away. You don't have to come, if you don't want."
You're going to hell, anyway, so why not break the rules for once?
She gave the bus one last glance, then steeled her gaze, and looked at him. "Going off with a crazy man to investigate mysterious deaths. Why wouldn't I want to come?" She grabbed his hand and didn't look back.
A/N: Hiya! Yeah. I've been a bit busy. Okay, maybe not. I was brainstorming (Read: Lazy) and then this came to me. So tell me if you like it or not, and any suggestions. I have a basic idea of how this is going to go, but I can try to incorporate certain elements if you want. Okay! Thanks!