John Noble shifted aside a large pile of invoices on his desk, frowning at the mess. Term at the university would begin soon, he had several large shipments of textbooks to be delivered in the next few weeks, and he'd just lost his newest assistant. Again. It seemed that, after two years, Tegan had finally managed to bump into her Soul-match at the airport yesterday and now the two of them were off to Australis, of all places.

He could call his sister in to help with the bookkeeping, but she and Lee were just settling into their new house and, according to Donna, were spending a lot of time 'starting a family', she'd told him with a wink. He shuddered and shook that thought off. Not something he wanted to think about his sister and her Soul-match doing. Not that Donna wouldn't be a lovely mother, because she would. But to get to that point…

Hefting a large box of books from the counter in the back room, he wandered out to the shelves, grumbling about flighty assistants and university students and bloody Soul-matching in general. His business and the adjoining coffee shop, owned by his friends Amy and Rory, were places frequented by countless twenty-something uni students and community members, making them prime meeting spots and he was always witnessing the brilliant, romantic, breaths-caught moments when Soul-matches met for the first time and every time he saw one, it eroded brittle wall that he'd attempted to build around his own heart.

Almost two decades ago, he'd been just as hopeful as any other promising young man, swinging through his twenties, just waiting for some pretty little thing to bump into him and let him know that his life of loneliness was over and, boy, how had he ever lived before he'd met her?

And then he'd turned thirty, watching as all his friends, most of them already Matched, got married and bought houses and started families and he'd wondered what could possibly be wrong with him. Was he unMatchable? Had his perfect woman taken one look at his big ears and sizeable nose and turned heel to ignore her Pull for the rest of their lives? Did she live on another continent? Was she too poor to get to him? Should he start wandering the world to try and find her?

He knew she wasn't dead. Two years ago, at Donna's prodding, on his thirty-fifth birthday, he'd gone to a specialist who'd explained to him that if the unthinkable had occurred and she'd been gone before she'd even met him, that he would very soon have followed, and never known why.

But here he was, bitter, alone and crowding forty, and very much still alive.

So where was she?

-

The little bell above the door tinkled and John looked up from the register in surprise. He'd just unlocked the door a few minutes ago but hadn't been expecting anyone for a bit. No self-respecting uni student ever set foot into his shop before at least nine. Other than habit, he wasn't even certain why he opened at eight. Even Rory and Amy didn't open until 8:30 and they ran a coffee shop. His brief glance up at the potential patron made him sigh. It was a girl, probably about twenty, blonde, and looking like she was going to need a lot of assistance as she stared, wide-eyed around the immense, bigger-on-the-inside, book-filled store.

Probably a first-year, having just stumbled into town, here for orientation before term began and lost already. He watched her for moment as she wandered over toward the fiction section and disappeared into the stacks. Well, he'd give her a few minutes to get lost and then he'd go rescue her and guide her to the fashion merchandising textbooks or the gossip rags or something.

He got distracted and then, almost half an hour later, when he hadn't heard any further sounds from the aisles or had another customer come in, he went in search of her. To his surprise, he found her sitting on the floor in the science fiction section, her coat under her bum and a copy of the latest TARDIS book spread out on her knees, completely engrossed.

He awkwardly shuffled his feet, trying to make some noise so as not to startle her. When she didn't look up, he cleared his throat. Her head shot up from the book and she staggered to her feet immediately, almost losing her balance. "Whoa, there!" he said, reaching out with his glove-covered hands to steady her shoulders. "All right?" he asked, peering down into her wide, almost panicked eyes.

"Fine, fine," she said, squirming away from him. He held his hands out in front of him and took a non-threatening step back from her as she fidgeted with the strap of the duffel bag at her feet. "I'm sorry, I -"

"No, no, it's ok," he said, calmly, ignoring the way his own heart had raced a moment there, standing so close to her. "I own this shop, noticed you come in earlier. Just wanted to make sure you were finding everything ok."

"Oh, yeah, sorry. You probably don't like it when people read in here," the girl said, frowning apologetically. "I just got in on the train this morning and this was the only place that I found was open. I didn't plan this out very well, you see. Just hopped on a train and then...here I was! I just...well, anyway, thought I would just wander around here for a bit until the coffee shop next door opened, but then I saw that the new TARDIS book was out and I just couldn't help myself." She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear (and suddenly he wanted to do that for her) and offered him a rather charming, haphazard smile with her tongue in her teeth.

Down, boy, he thought with a frown as his heart began to beat rapidly again. She barely looks old enough to be searching for a Match and she certainly isn't yours. You've been down this path before and it only ends in heartbreak for you.

Her smile began to fade in the face of his continued silence. "Don't worry, I'll buy it," she assured him quickly, looking flustered. "I own all the rest of them; it's a brilliant series. Have you read it?"

He shook his head to clear out the candy-floss cobwebs suddenly inspired by her whisky-coloured eyes and realized that she was waiting on a response from him and then he nodded, to her confusion "Yeah, actually. I liked the one with the gas-mask children, the best so far, I think." Turning on his heel, he moved toward the front of the store, hoping that she would and would not follow in equal measure .

"Me too!" she echoed. "M'Rose Tyler," the girl continued, bending down to collect her coat and bag, and then shadowed him to the register, clutching the book. Ah, following him then.

"John Noble," he replied gruffly, swiping her card and handing her the receipt to sign.

"The ending to that one was just brilliant. 'Everybody lives!'" she quoted with an even larger smile as she handed the receipt back to him with a flourish and leaned against the counter. "Did you - "

"Coffee shop should be open now," he pointed out, gesturing to the store next to his and, to his genuine surprise, her expression seemed to fall a bit as he not-so-subtly indicated that she could go. He needed to get her out of here, away from him.

"Right," she replied, tucking her receipt into the book as a marker. "Well, it was nice to meet you, John Noble."

He grunted in response and turned away from her immediately, ducking beneath the counter until he heard the bell tinkling to indicate that she was gone. Sliding down the wall, he scrubbed a hand over his face.

He would not be attracted to this woman. She was not his. She would not be his. And anyway, it didn't matter because his behaviour had probably been so off-putting today he'd never see her again anyway.

Huh.

Why did that thought hurt so much?