Heather entered the con early in the day, excited by the hustle and bustle emanating from the huge crowd of nerds just like her. She usually got anxious around large groups of people, but her cosplay was her armor. The tweed jacket, bow tie, and fez lent themselves to her in a way that made her feel as if she could be, if not normal, then a little more interesting and outgoing than usual. She had been ecstatic when her parents had presented the ticket to her as an early birthday present, hopping up and down with a silly smile on her face while at the same time mentally planning a fabulous 11th Doctor cosplay. Oh, the mere thought of wearing a fez while holding bundles of TinyVinyl figures while pin-hunting had her grinning like her favorite madman with a box.

Wiping a bit of sweat off of her brow, formed from a combination of the Arizona heat and the tweed jacket, she surveyed the main floor. Heather stood still for a few moments, drinking in the detailed costumes, talented vendors, and amazing art. She spotted a fellow sonic wielder in the crowd and made her way through the throng to snap a quick cell-phone pic of the steampunked blue suit and Converse, making a mental note to find a shop that sold old-fashioned clothing.

After wandering around a bit more, she stopped to admire a gorgeous watercolor print of the TARDIS, its rich royal blues offset nicely by the dark setting of space and the golden hue of stars. After checking the price tag, however, she sighed quietly and walked on, in search of something a little bit more to her wallet's tastes. She found herself once more among the sea of vendors, and, spying a stall that held everything from bow-tie earrings to TARDIS ornaments to glow-in-the-dark K-9 plushies, she walked over in a haze of potential merchandise ownership.

Jackpot, Heather thought when she reached the stand. Its contents were even more amazing up close. T-shirts, bracelets, board games! Ooh, I didn't even know they had made a comic! She internally squee-ed and set herself to the consuming task of deciding exactly which items would find their way into her bag. As she sifted through the boxes of items, she thought back to the day when she had first been introduced to "her" Doctor.

* * *

"Heather, where are you, honey? The sitter will be here soon." her mother called, rousing Heather from her imaginary world full of princesses and monsters, fairies and happy endings.

"Coooming!" she shouted back, standing up quickly, careful not to upset her dolls. With little pajama-clad feet pounding down the stairs from her bedroom she ran to the entry hall, nearly running into her father.

"Whoah, there querida [1], slow down. Mr. Jackson will be here soon." He used the Spanish term of endearment with a soft smile on his face, looking on as the bobble of curly-hair that was his daughter ran to the foyer. The doorbell rang, and Heather rushed to answer it, wrenching open the lock as she laid eyes on her favorite sitter.

"Peter, please, come in," Heather's mother called from the foot of the stairs, pulling her coat on. "The emergency numbers are where they usually are and…" The rest of the conversation was lost for young Heather, just eight years old, as she stared at the warm brown eyes of her family's friend and neighbor. "...And make sure she gets in bed by 9:30. We should be back around 11:00. We're going to go see that newLord of the Rings at the theater." She knelt down to kiss her only child goodbye, saying, "Be nice to Mr. Jackson and don't watch too much TV. And remember to brush your teeth before bedtime." With this last advice and a parting hug she was out the door.

"So kiddo, what do you want to do?" Mr. Jackson asked.

"Movie time!" Heather responded eagerly. Mr. Jackson always brought a fun new film to watch each time he babysat.

"Sorry kiddo, no movie this week."

"Awww, but-"

"I have something even cooler to show you. I think you're gonna love it."

"What? What is it? Tellmetellmetellme."

"Slow down there kiddo," he said, patting the jumping child on the head. "I'll show you the surprise if you eat all your broccoli with dinner."

Heather really hated broccoli, but she also hated not knowing things so when her dinner plate was placed in front of her she scarfed down that dreaded veggie like it was chocolate.

"All done!" she announced when her plate had been cleaned.

"Good job kiddo! Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Heather thought about the taste in her mouth for a minute and decided that he was right. "Now can I have my surprise? Pleaaaaase?"

Mr. Jackson chuckled a bit at Heather, saying, "Ok, ok, now it's suprise time. And do you know what goes well with surprises?"

"What?"

"Chocolate ice cream, of course," he said, pulling a carton from the fridge.

"Yay!"

Mr. Jackson scooped the cold treat into two bowls, making sure to add all the proper fixings. He handed Heather a bowl and told her to go to the living room.

Once there, Mr. Jackson slipped a DVD from his pocket out of its case and into the player, balancing the ice cream with one hand and performing the action with the other. Heather had already made herself comfy on the couch and began digging into her ice cream. "Ok, are you ready for your surprise now?"

"Yes!"

"Well, OK then. Turn the TV on and press play."

Heather did just this, and saw on the screen a man in a blue police box wearing a loooong scarf. And then there was action! And aliens called Daleks! And time and space travel! Heather sat on the couch rapt, occasionally popping a bite of ice cream into her mouth, or letting out a gasp whenever something particularly awesome happened. By the end of the episode, Heather had fallen in love with the series, in love with scarfs and sonics, in love with the TARDIS, and in love with science fiction. Her previous world of pretty princesses had been forgotten. She had new worlds now, and lots of them. She had gone with the doctor and nothing would ever be the same again.

* * *

Heather remembered that day with a grin. She hadn't wanted to go to bed after the credits rolled on the second episode, and had convinced Mr. Jackson to let her see just one more. When Mr. Jackson had finally insisted that it was her bedtime she had dreamed of that final frontier, space, and of traveling through it with the Doctor. In the end, for her current cosplay it had come down to her first doctor (she never forgot him), and the 11th. It was so much of a tie between the two of them that it had come down to a coin toss, and when the penny dropped it had landed on heads, so Heather had gone with 11.

She turned her attention back to the merchandise in front of her, selecting the Dalek Talking Plushie, bought it, and placed it carefully into her bag. Looking at her phone, she realized it was almost time for the Whovian meet-up. Totally un-directional Heather wandered into a quiet corner and pulled out the multicolored trickery that was the con's map. Shoot, how am I ever going to find this place? The con is huge!she thought. With her head down in the map, her feet began moving to the west, then east and then- . Bugger. I better just ask someone, she thought, frustrated with her pitiful navigation attempts. She popped her head up and realized that she had absolutely no idea where she was.Ugh, not again. Looking around, she spotted a platinum blonde woman who was sitting at some kind of reception desk. Heather walked up to ask her and noticed that she was wearing a 3D TARDIS pin. "I-I l-like your pin," Heather murmured softly, a red blush quickly spreading across her tan cheeks.

"Did you say something?" The women spoke in a clipped tone, her voice that of a person that didn't have much time to waste.

"N-nevermind," she muttered. "I-I'm looking for the Doctor Who meetup and photoshoot. Do you know where it is?"

"Yes, you go down that hall and make a right. The meetup should be in the room on your left," the woman responded briskly, pointing down.

"T-thank you…" Heather walked quickly in the direction the woman had pointed, thinking of how exciting it would be to be around others who understood; who understood the show's pain, its humor, its anguish, its awesomeness. She took larger and larger strides, thinking of all the cosplays she would see, how the quotes would be exchanged, how the laughs would flow freely at the mention of fish-sticks and custard. Heather stood in front of the door, steadying herself for the crowd she was sure to encounter. There's nothing to be afraid of. These are your people, she reassured herself. She pushed open the heavy door, feeling the cold metal bite into her slick palm. The room was empty, and filled with a complete lack of light. As Heather took a small step over the threshold she heard the door shut with a soft click behind her and the world disappeared.

[1]-Querida: Spanish: Darling