The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS and smiled. He loved Paris, especially by moonlight. It was a beautiful sight. Thousands of lights illuminated the city, and in the distance, he could hear jazz flowing through the air. He took a deep breath, and let it go with a sigh of satisfaction. He had always loved the Roaring 20s. This had to be one of his favorite time periods.
He left the TARDIS parked at the base of the Eiffel Tower, and walked towards the sound of the music. He knew that where there was music, there was dancing, and where there was dancing, there was joy. He could use some joy right now, and a little dancing never hurt anyone.
He arrived at an outdoor bar of sorts. People milled around, drinking and speaking in French, and on the dance floor, couples reenacted their own versions of the popular dances of America. A small, elevated stage held the band, complete with the saxophone player, the drummer, a piano player, a bassist, and a singer. Every member of the band was male except for the singer. She was a young woman, probably in her early twenties, her blonde hair crimped into the fashionable short style of the era. She had a very nice smile, and she wore a white dress complete with pearls and a thin wrap. Her voice was honey-sweet, but quite powerful.
The Doctor sat at the bar, watching the energetic dancers. They turned and hopped and went all over. The place was very alive, which lifted the Doctor's spirits. He looked around for a dance partner, eager to give it a go.
As his eyes swept the place, he caught the singer's eyes. He may have been wrong, but he thought that he saw her eyes flash for a moment. Then she smiled at him; a sweet, almost knowing smile. For some strange reason, he got the feeling that he knew her.
The Doctor turned away and ordered a drink. It wasn't common for him to drink, but then again, just one couldn't hurt. Behind him, the music changed into an instrumental slow song, and couples swayed around with their arms around each other.
"Oh Doctor, I never knew you liked the twenties," a sweet voice behind him said. The Doctor spun in his seat, and came face to face with the singer from the band. She smiled up at him.
The Doctor looked at her for a second, tempted to pull out his glasses. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
The young woman laughed softly, brushing her hand through her hair. "I've changed a bit since our last meeting. I guess you could say that I've left my past self behind." She shrugged a bit. "I was getting a little sick of that shapeless brown hair, and my horrible stature that made me tower over everyone, and those worried looks I could never brush off my face." She looked back at the Doctor. "You remember?"
The Doctor blinked, and then it clicked. "Ruthalia!"
She beamed up at him, throwing her arms around him. "Oh, Doctor, I've missed you. I haven't seen this you in so long."
"This me?" the Doctor asked. "You've met my other regenerations?"
"Only the future ones," Ruthalia said with a shrug. "Don't worry, I'm not changing your past."
"But," the Doctor looked at Ruthalia's blond hair, fair skin, and dazzling blue eyes. "What happened? Why did you regenerate?"
Ruthalia's smile fell a bit. "I can't tell you. You know the rules and such. It's something for you to find out on your own."
"I'm there when you regenerate?" the Doctor asked.
Ruthalia shook her head. "I didn't say anything like that. What was it that friend of yours is always saying? Oh, yeah," she smiled. "Spoilers."
"You mean that archeologist?" the Doctor asked. "River Song?"
Ruthalia nodded. "Lovely woman. She kind of reminds me of you."
"You know my future, and you're not going to even give me a clue?"
"Well, by any standards, it is only a potential future. Anything could happen." Ruthalia looked back onto the dance floor with a serene look. "I absolutely love Paris. The language is beautiful, the people are intriguing..." she sighed with satisfaction. "And the music. No one can play jazz like the French."
"Well," the Doctor said, smiling at the now-changed version of the young girl he'd once met in a theatre. "Fancy a dance?" He held his hand out.
Ruthalia looked down at his hand, then back up at him. "I should be a fool to refuse such an offer, Doctor."