GIRL TALK
She had been waiting at the café for some time. It was her own fault - she had arrived much earlier than intended, and now here she was, drinking copious amounts of coffee and figuratively kicking her heels as she waited.
When they had arrived here, more by luck than design, she had quickly made up a story about wanting to check up on her ancestry. It was a lame excuse, and he probably realised that, but had said nothing, other than "good luck." However, at least the few days spent here would allow a brief respite from their adventures.
Within hours of arriving, she had placed a note in the classified ads covering most of the newspapers. By the next day she received a reply. A meeting was arranged, with the café as the venue. Neutral ground, she had told herself.
She was on her fifth cup of coffee when a shadow fell across her, temporarily blocking out the sun. "Miss Pollard?"
She looked up at the woman before her. "Doctor Holloway?"
"The very same," she replied, availing herself of the seat opposite Charley and ordered coffee for herself. "So, what's this all about?"
"You read the advert?"
"How could I miss it?" She smiled. "How did it go? 'A mutual friend would like to meet Grace Holloway regarding a TARDIS.' That's not something I'm likely to forget, Miss Pollard. So, you know the Doctor? How is he?"
"He's fine. And please, call me Charley." She was more relaxed now.
"Charley, as in Charlotte?" She nodded. "Okay, Charley it is. So, where is he?" Grace looked around, as though expecting the Doctor to appear from around a nearby corner.
"He's not here," Charley replied. "Well, he is, but he doesn't know I'm meeting you. I wanted this to be between us."
Grace nodded. "Girls together, huh?"
"Something like that." Charley hesitated, briefly. "I've been travelling with him for a while now, and he talks about you a lot," she explained. "I was curious. So when the TARDIS arrived here in San Francisco . . ."
"You thought you'd check out the opposition." Then Grace caught the look of horror on Charley's face. "Hey, I was only kidding."
Although Charley had seen much through her recent travels, any challenge against her morals put her on the defensive. "The Doctor and I are just friends, alright?"
"Alright." Grace wasn't here to score points. She was as curious about Charley as she was about her. So while she felt she had touched a raw nerve just then, she chose not to pursue the matter. "So, what does he say about me?"
"That you helped him through a time of crisis, against the Master," she replied slowly. "That's after you almost killed him, of course."
Now it was Grace's turn to feel uncomfortable. "Oh, he told you about that?"
"I think he forgives you." Charley offered a smile. "He told me that he relied on you while his regeneration stabilised - how he wasn't quite himself for a while. How did he seem to you?"
Grace hesitated. "Um, he was a little erratic, as you might suppose. For a while he wasn't sure of who he was, let alone if he were human or not. But once he got his memory back, he was fine." She sat back in her chair, remembering. "Then all he had to do was convince me that he was a Time Lord and that the Earth was going to fall apart at midnight."
Charley laughed. "He had to convince me, too. If he hadn't, I might have ended up dead long ago."
"Oh, what a guy," Grace observed. "When we kissed . . ." the sentence died in the air, as Grace realised her inadvertent slip.
Charley stared at her, shocked. "He . . . kissed you?"
"Well, I guess . . ."
"You and the Doctor . . ."
"Charley!" Grace exclaimed. "It was just a kiss - well, more than one. But that's all, okay?"
"But I don't understand . . ."
"It was like I said before, he was a bit erratic. And I suppose, when your defences are down, the baser instincts surface for a while." Grace realised she was blushing. "It's not as if we did . . . anything else."
"Oh." Charley was still taken aback. She had never thought of the Doctor acting in that way. "Look, perhaps this was a bad idea."
Grace sighed. "No, it wasn't. I guess we had to meet up sometime." She smiled. "After all, we do have a connection of some sort." Charley returned the smile. "I suppose we do, Grace."
"You know," Grace confided, "he asked me to go with him in the TARDIS."
This was another surprise. "And you refused?"
"Hey, I had a life to live here. Besides," she added, "I asked him to stay, and he said no. So we were quits." A faraway look came into her eyes. "Sometimes I wish I had gone with him."
Charley's voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't know what I'd do if I had to leave him."
"Charley?" Grace recognised the signs.
"I think I love him, Grace," she blurted out. "I think I always have. I just never dared admit it. Not to anyone."
"So, why now?"
"I suppose . . . I suppose I needed someone to talk to. Someone who would understand."
And then Grace understood. "Someone who knew the Doctor."
She nodded. "I'm sorry to burden you with this, but . . ." And the tears began to flow.
"Hey, dry those eyes." Grace passed across a handkerchief, which Charley gratefully accepted. "Boy, it's sure a day for confessions."
Charley looked at Grace. "Didn't you love him?"
'Whoa, this is getting too close for comfort,' she thought. "I guess I might have done, at the time," she admitted, "but when you meet a guy with two hearts, there's no real comparison. And how could either of us hope that those feelings would be returned? I mean, he's an alien. They probably do it . . . different, y' know?"
The tears had been wiped away, and Charley had recovered her composure. "But he does care," she insisted.
"And that's the important thing," Grace told her. "The Doctor cares. He looks out for anyone in need. He's one of the good guys, and we're lucky to know him." She looked at Charley. "Maybe this meeting didn't turn out the way you thought it would, but I think we've both learned a lot today."
She raised her coffee cup. "Here's to us, Charley."
Charley raised her own cup in agreement. "Yes, to us." They chinked cups, and laughed.
*****
Across the road from the café stood an Olde Worlde Tea House. Inside, the Doctor watched as Grace and Charley swapped stories and reminiscences. Once or twice he had been tempted to join them, but this was their time, and on this occasion he had no right to interfere. So he had watched the whole scenario played out before him. With a plated window between him and them, he hadn't heard a word that was said. Which suited him just fine, thank you very much.
He was in the act of raising a steaming cup of tea to his lips, when he froze.
Just entering his field of vision was a young woman he had known for a long time in a previous life, and at the beginning of this one. Her dark hair, previously short and spiky, had long since grown and was tied back in a ponytail. Dressed in a safari jacket, white shirt and long shorts, with a haversack across her shoulder, she was the very image of an unconventional archaeologist. And Bernice Summerfield was heading in the direction of the café.
"Oh no," the Doctor realised. "Now I really am in trouble."
She had been waiting at the café for some time. It was her own fault - she had arrived much earlier than intended, and now here she was, drinking copious amounts of coffee and figuratively kicking her heels as she waited.
When they had arrived here, more by luck than design, she had quickly made up a story about wanting to check up on her ancestry. It was a lame excuse, and he probably realised that, but had said nothing, other than "good luck." However, at least the few days spent here would allow a brief respite from their adventures.
Within hours of arriving, she had placed a note in the classified ads covering most of the newspapers. By the next day she received a reply. A meeting was arranged, with the café as the venue. Neutral ground, she had told herself.
She was on her fifth cup of coffee when a shadow fell across her, temporarily blocking out the sun. "Miss Pollard?"
She looked up at the woman before her. "Doctor Holloway?"
"The very same," she replied, availing herself of the seat opposite Charley and ordered coffee for herself. "So, what's this all about?"
"You read the advert?"
"How could I miss it?" She smiled. "How did it go? 'A mutual friend would like to meet Grace Holloway regarding a TARDIS.' That's not something I'm likely to forget, Miss Pollard. So, you know the Doctor? How is he?"
"He's fine. And please, call me Charley." She was more relaxed now.
"Charley, as in Charlotte?" She nodded. "Okay, Charley it is. So, where is he?" Grace looked around, as though expecting the Doctor to appear from around a nearby corner.
"He's not here," Charley replied. "Well, he is, but he doesn't know I'm meeting you. I wanted this to be between us."
Grace nodded. "Girls together, huh?"
"Something like that." Charley hesitated, briefly. "I've been travelling with him for a while now, and he talks about you a lot," she explained. "I was curious. So when the TARDIS arrived here in San Francisco . . ."
"You thought you'd check out the opposition." Then Grace caught the look of horror on Charley's face. "Hey, I was only kidding."
Although Charley had seen much through her recent travels, any challenge against her morals put her on the defensive. "The Doctor and I are just friends, alright?"
"Alright." Grace wasn't here to score points. She was as curious about Charley as she was about her. So while she felt she had touched a raw nerve just then, she chose not to pursue the matter. "So, what does he say about me?"
"That you helped him through a time of crisis, against the Master," she replied slowly. "That's after you almost killed him, of course."
Now it was Grace's turn to feel uncomfortable. "Oh, he told you about that?"
"I think he forgives you." Charley offered a smile. "He told me that he relied on you while his regeneration stabilised - how he wasn't quite himself for a while. How did he seem to you?"
Grace hesitated. "Um, he was a little erratic, as you might suppose. For a while he wasn't sure of who he was, let alone if he were human or not. But once he got his memory back, he was fine." She sat back in her chair, remembering. "Then all he had to do was convince me that he was a Time Lord and that the Earth was going to fall apart at midnight."
Charley laughed. "He had to convince me, too. If he hadn't, I might have ended up dead long ago."
"Oh, what a guy," Grace observed. "When we kissed . . ." the sentence died in the air, as Grace realised her inadvertent slip.
Charley stared at her, shocked. "He . . . kissed you?"
"Well, I guess . . ."
"You and the Doctor . . ."
"Charley!" Grace exclaimed. "It was just a kiss - well, more than one. But that's all, okay?"
"But I don't understand . . ."
"It was like I said before, he was a bit erratic. And I suppose, when your defences are down, the baser instincts surface for a while." Grace realised she was blushing. "It's not as if we did . . . anything else."
"Oh." Charley was still taken aback. She had never thought of the Doctor acting in that way. "Look, perhaps this was a bad idea."
Grace sighed. "No, it wasn't. I guess we had to meet up sometime." She smiled. "After all, we do have a connection of some sort." Charley returned the smile. "I suppose we do, Grace."
"You know," Grace confided, "he asked me to go with him in the TARDIS."
This was another surprise. "And you refused?"
"Hey, I had a life to live here. Besides," she added, "I asked him to stay, and he said no. So we were quits." A faraway look came into her eyes. "Sometimes I wish I had gone with him."
Charley's voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't know what I'd do if I had to leave him."
"Charley?" Grace recognised the signs.
"I think I love him, Grace," she blurted out. "I think I always have. I just never dared admit it. Not to anyone."
"So, why now?"
"I suppose . . . I suppose I needed someone to talk to. Someone who would understand."
And then Grace understood. "Someone who knew the Doctor."
She nodded. "I'm sorry to burden you with this, but . . ." And the tears began to flow.
"Hey, dry those eyes." Grace passed across a handkerchief, which Charley gratefully accepted. "Boy, it's sure a day for confessions."
Charley looked at Grace. "Didn't you love him?"
'Whoa, this is getting too close for comfort,' she thought. "I guess I might have done, at the time," she admitted, "but when you meet a guy with two hearts, there's no real comparison. And how could either of us hope that those feelings would be returned? I mean, he's an alien. They probably do it . . . different, y' know?"
The tears had been wiped away, and Charley had recovered her composure. "But he does care," she insisted.
"And that's the important thing," Grace told her. "The Doctor cares. He looks out for anyone in need. He's one of the good guys, and we're lucky to know him." She looked at Charley. "Maybe this meeting didn't turn out the way you thought it would, but I think we've both learned a lot today."
She raised her coffee cup. "Here's to us, Charley."
Charley raised her own cup in agreement. "Yes, to us." They chinked cups, and laughed.
*****
Across the road from the café stood an Olde Worlde Tea House. Inside, the Doctor watched as Grace and Charley swapped stories and reminiscences. Once or twice he had been tempted to join them, but this was their time, and on this occasion he had no right to interfere. So he had watched the whole scenario played out before him. With a plated window between him and them, he hadn't heard a word that was said. Which suited him just fine, thank you very much.
He was in the act of raising a steaming cup of tea to his lips, when he froze.
Just entering his field of vision was a young woman he had known for a long time in a previous life, and at the beginning of this one. Her dark hair, previously short and spiky, had long since grown and was tied back in a ponytail. Dressed in a safari jacket, white shirt and long shorts, with a haversack across her shoulder, she was the very image of an unconventional archaeologist. And Bernice Summerfield was heading in the direction of the café.
"Oh no," the Doctor realised. "Now I really am in trouble."