Chapter One

Part One

10 years earlier

Winnie Darling stuck out like a sore thumb in the midst of the bellowing hockey fans and the 20-something waitresses rushing around. First of all, she rarely paid much attention to hockey because she could never sit through the entire thing. Secondly, she was believed to be 17 and too young to even drink at the bar. By believed to be, meaning no one was sure about her exact age.

She scurried through the mess of people, serving mugs of beer and pretzels to most patrons, and for the others trying to keep track of who ordered what. She desperately wished she had tied her hair up to begin with, but it was too late for that. She was already drowning in the sea of drunken fans watching the first hockey game of the season and didn't have time to take a break.

Winnie looked over at the bar to yell for three more beers, but Travis the bartender had wandered off somewhere leaving it empty. She sighed in frustration and elbowed her way through to the counter to serve the drinks. First, she turned her back and poured the beers she needed. Before one mug even saw a drop of froth, someone from behind her was yelling, "Excuse me, Ms!" She put the empty mug on the tray and turned around to tend to a customer.

A man with sticky brown hair and huge eyes to match was sitting on a stool waiting. He was overdressed, wearing a pin striped brown suit and blue tie. "Hello, I'm John Smith." The Doctor recognized her right away. A bit younger, but everything was in the same place. The only thing he could see that was different was the color of her eyes. They had a large yellow circle around each pupil, nothing like he had seen before.

"Winnie." She greeted. Her hair was much longer too. Long, wavy, and blonde. "What can I get you?"

"How about a Coca-Cola?" She nodded and shoveled ice into a glass.

"You're not from around here." She guessed. Eyeing him up and down. His mind began racing. How did she know he was an alien? Was he right to assume this was a trap?

"Sorry?"

She placed the mug under the nozzle for Coca-Cola on the fountain pop machine. "Your accent gives you away." Winnie just thought he was from the UK. The Doctor relaxed and gave her a friendly smile. "Definitely not Scotian." She poured the drink up to the brim and passed him the mug.

"You're awfully young to be working in a pub." The Doctor commented. She didn't stray from her script. She was completely prepared for when people asked about her age. The owners had made it very clear not to mention any age lower than 19, but Winnie wasn't one for remembering any sort of numbers (resulting in guys thinking they were being stood up and failing a math class or two), so she usually stuck to the low twenties.

"I may look it, but I'm twenty-three." That was the highest she had ever gone. She turned away to finish the task of waitressing.

"Actually," The Doctor tried to regain her attention. She didn't hear him and he didn't bother again until she was turned around with the large, black tray balancing in one hand. "Could I bother you for some directions to the nearest hotel?" The Doctor was clever, but not clever enough. Winnie politely told him she was busy and went off to serve the patrons. She laid down the full mugs on the table and picked the empty ones up, stacking them on the tray and then making her way back to the counter, grabbing two empty bottles on her way.

The Doctor, seeing she had her hands full, poured a bit of his water on the floor next to the counter. Just enough to make a puddle. When Winnie came charging back she slipped on the wet spot and all of the glass items when crashing to the ground, along with her. "Shoot!" She yelled. Winnie reached her hand to pick up a chunk of glass, but the piece scratched along her palm and left a wound from her pinkie finger to her thumb. Blood dripped down her hand. The Doctor kneeled down beside her to help her pick up the glass.

Before anything could be done about the cut, Winnie and The Doctor were distracted by the power in the bar shutting off. Every light in the establishment flicked off, including all of the televisions. Winnie lifted her head and looked around. Everyone in the bar was hollering and making a scene. "Alright, everyone stay calm!" A voice familiar to Winnie came from behind her. Her boss, and the owner of the bar, Desmond was searching for the switch for the generator. Winnie lifted her hand and felt for the counter, pulling herself up when she finally got a hold of it.

"Desmond, the switch is on the wall in the hallway!" She instructed, trying to yell over the crowd of angry hockey fans. Winnie felt her way to the switch, pulling it up and turning all of the lights back on. To Winnie's surprise, Desmond was not standing in front of her. Instead, an 8 foot tall, rather overweight alien was staring down at her.