Sometimes, when she was bored and had nothing else to do with her mind, Violet fantasized about meeting the Doctor. It wasn't anything serious, mind you; just exhaused ramblings of the mind, the piecing together of events one might think of when thinking of their favorite actor or actress, for example.
Anyway, she pondered things like this like anyone would: she would be cool, she would be collected, and (if it was necessary) she would be calm in the face of danger. Certainly a person that would have the nerve to travel with the Doctor, or at least someone he would approve of.
She would be anything other than what she was at that very moment, staring wide-eyed and speechless, not even bothering to get up from the ground.
She was finally (finally!) shaken out of her mental wipe by the Doctor. "Uh...uh, are you okay? Young lady, are you-"
"I-I'm fine!" she managed to choke out. "N-nothing's wrong here!" This sentence was punctuated by nervous laughter that was intended to be sweet and endearing, but probably came out as psychotic. "Thank you for picking up my notes..."
"Doctor," the man grinned, holding out his hand and helping her stand up. "Just the Doctor."
"Violet," she replied, shaking the same hand that was helping her.
"Hello, Violet!" he smiled. "Lovely name, Violet. I've known a few girls with names like that. Flowers, I like flower names..." And then he started to babble and banter, and act pretty much as confidently awkward (if that was even a thing) as everyone who had seen the Doctor reported that he was.
It was amazing, Violet decided. Absolutely amazing. Finally, she looked up at the man, and repeated what she had meant to tell him before nerves got in her way. "Thank you for picking up my notes, again."
"Not a problem! I know how bad that is, with everything. It was the least I could do, and..." There he went, off on his tangent again. Perfect. Now, she could ponder on what to do right now, and not have to deal with ugly things like awkward silences.
On one hand, this was the Doctor. The Doctor. According to what she heard, she was talking to the most important man in the universe. Who the hell wouldn't drag him home and interrogate him until his ears turned blue and you heard his life story ten times over?
On the other hand, however, this was the Doctor. No matter how good things turned out in the end, the point still stood: wherever he went, trouble followed. He just learned to deal with it by learning how to save the day. Now, what if he wasn't as successful next time? And what if Violet, or someone she knew, was in the middle of it all? What if they died because of a problem he caused? Why the hell didn't she just turn and walk away right now?
She had two solutions in her hands: the boring, safe one, and the exciting, horrifically face-meltingly dangerous one. What was a girl of her sort to do?
Oh hell yes.
"If you don't mind...Doctor," she interrupted, "I've lost my friends, and I can't find them. My mum would be livid if she found out that I was walking around alone, so would you mind walking me home?"
He paused in confusion. "Walking you home...? Wouldn't your mum be even more livid if you arrived home with a stranger than if you arrived alone, and oi what are you doing?!" he yelped as Violet gripped his hand and dragged him behind her. "I-I'm sorry, but I can't go with you, I have friends who are waiting for me, and-"
His complaints were drowned out after a while. All she could think of was that the Doctor was here and she was actually getting to meet him.
"It's alright!" she shouted back. "We're not going to be gone long. I live really close, in Powell Estate. You can make it back here in what, ten, fifteen minutes?"
It's weird. As soon as she said where she lived, the Doctor didn't say anything else.