Chapter Three
I simply couldn't grasp it at first. "Aliens?" I repeated. "You're telling me aliens blew up London Bridge?"
The Doctor nodded. "Yep." He raised his eyebrows mischievously. "Isn't that great?"
"Hmm, let me think," I snapped. "Human terrorists, or alien invaders with ray guns? I wonder which one is worse!" I waved my hands around, attempting to mime a set of scales.
The Doctor cast his eyes heavenward. "Oh, dear me," he murmured before stooping down to scoop up a random chunk of cement. Placing it in his pocket, he started to walk away.
"Wait! Where are you going?" I demanded, scampering after him. "You're done here already?"
He turned to look at me. "Yes, I'm done here already," he confirmed, "and I fancy some chips right about now. How about you?"
I gaped at him incredulously. "Chips?!" I exclaimed. "How can you think of your stomach at a time like this?"
"Well…the local authorities will be here soon…or would you rather hang about and get questioned?"
He had a point.
I tagged along behind the Doctor back to the police box, trying to sort out my hyperactive thoughts into something more coherent that I could throw at the Doctor. So many questions ran through my mind – would I ever get an answer to them?
What was supposed to have been one of the best days of my life, what with my lunch with James and all, had rapidly turned into the most horrifically bizarre. And on top of a piece of London getting blown to smithereens, here I was – stuck in the middle of an alien invasion with a nutter who sniffed cement and made it explode and craved chips in a crisis. I trotted to keep up with him nonetheless, because being stuck with somebody completely off his rocker was better than being alone. Besides, I had a strange suspicion that he knew more than he was letting on.
To my surprise (and at the same time, somewhere in the back of my head, it made total sense, what with my first impressions of the Doctor and what have you), upon arriving back at the police box, the Doctor opened the door and stepped inside.
"I thought we were going to get chips?" I bleated, suddenly rooted to the sidewalk.
He poked his head out round the doorframe. "We are," he replied. "Come on, what are you loitering about for?"
Hesitantly, I walked up to it. "I don't see how one ruddy police box is any help here," I grumbled as I stepped inside.
Then I looked up, and promptly swooned.
"Connie?" I heard the Doctor call out as I ran outside.
"Oh. My. GOD!" I cried out to the sky. "Oh, my god, that is purely impossible!"
The Doctor had puttered out after me, and to my fury he was standing outside the box, observing me with an amused face.
I couldn't help it. I just broke apart right then and there. I struggled to keep the tears at bay as I walked right up in front of him, trembling with fear and anger and frustration, and I don't know what else.
The Doctor's face changed from amused to concerned. "Connie, what's the matter?" he inquired, his voice going soft.
"'What's the matter?'" I parroted, mimicking him to his face, my voice rising in pitch with barely-contained hysteria. "You're asking me what's the matter?"
My head hurt. It felt like it was going to go the same way as London Bridge. My legs were barely able to hold me up, and I could hardly feel the Doctor's hands, strong but surprisingly gentle, gently clasping my shoulders and pulling me towards him for a hug.
"It's all wrong!" I finally wailed. "This whole day…it's all just wrong!" I buried my face in the lapel of his coat, wishing so hard that I could just wake up in my bed and start this whole horrible day over…over even better, erase it completely and not have the bridge go up in smoke.
He patted my back reassuringly. "It'll be fine. I promise." He kept his arm around me as he led me back inside the police box. Seating me down on a small white couch in front of a computer screen, he made sure I was comfortable before turning to the central control panel.
I figured that that's what it was, for it had all sorts of flashing lights, fiddly knobs, and large switches covering its surface, with wires poking out here and there. A large clear cylinder went from out of the control panel to the very roof, and I gazed at it, mesmerized by shock and wonder, as he started pressing and flipping buttons and switches.
Suddenly, a grating, screechy pumping noise filled the air, and I saw that the cylinder was glowing a bright, eerie green as the pump inside it rose and fell.
"Hang on, Connie," the Doctor suggested. "This could be a bumpy ride."