I accidentally uploaded the wrong document the first time, and I only noticed when there were Warriors terms in place of the Doctor Who chapter I thought I was putting a commentary on. XD Oooooops! I was wondering why the folder had so many files in it! XD

Anyways, I really need to watch some more Doctor Who! .; However, since this is mostly my charrie's (are original charries in fanfics called OCs? Yes, they are, actually, right?) POV, I thought it might be okay. ^.^; 'Sides... I was sort of more trying to get the whole Doctor-meets-companion routine right, rather than his mannerisms!

Chapter 2

I glanced around at the empty street as I slowly made my way home. My backpack felt like it was about to fall off my back, so I shifted it back onto my shoulder properly. I wasn't feeling too cold, and I had been slow so far—ten minutes and I had only made it about half a kilometer, when I generally made two kilometers in half an hour!—so I picked up the pace.

Suddenly, I stopped dead.

I looked around.

Was someone watching me?

No…. I shook my head in confusion. Surely not? I walked on, looking around, but the uncomfortable feeling of eyes persisted. I suddenly reached the intersection; across the diagonal were the woods. Ahh, so that's where the feeling had been coming from!

Suddenly, I noticed a man across the street. It was strange, because he was wearing this cool long coat, a sort of light brown and generally just awesome. Underneath that, he wore a suit jacket, some brown stripey thing. He was also wearing a lighter shirt and a reddish tie beneath the jacket. His pants were identical to his suit jacket. He was also wearing running shoes, big white ones that looked comfortable. He had plain brown hair that more-or-less stuck up in the front, making him look like he never brushed it. Ever.

On any other man, they would have looked... well, I'll just say that they would have looked really, really awful together. This man was actually sort of looking nice.

I didn't recognize him from the neighbourhood, because although I lived a few streets down, I think I certainly would have noticed a man looking like this before. I'm serious! I had never seen a man who wore a suit and coat and shoes like that all together. Call me crazy and ignorant, but I seriously haven't. Really.

He had that sort of... misplaced, not from around here, look. He looked... well, different is the only way I can describe it, because it's true! Certainly this man wasn't a Canadian. He looked sort of lost, sort of how I guess you might look when stepping into your hotel room in Florida, wondering how you'll ever get used to living there, even for just a week (no offense, of course, to those who can't afford to go to Florida and stay in a hotel. Let's just call my family lucky and leave it at that, okay? Fine, maybe very lucky. Call it making right decisions) and thinking, "Okay, this is scary... I might do all the wrong things! What if they laugh at me? What if they kick me out of the hotel? I must certainly try my best not to do anything silly. Oh, NO! I forgot my change of underwear at home!" That sort of thing.

Anyways, I'm getting really off-topic here. Crap! I have a tendency to do that a lot, 'specially when I'm telling a story. I can tell a great story, but I usually talk so fast and put in so many references that by the end, most of the people listening have either deliberately found something else to do or unintentionally tuned me out! Hmmph.

In any case, where was I again? Right, yes, the strange man. And strange he was indeed! I felt the urge to go up to him and ask him, "Hi, do you need any help in getting around? Do you have any idea where you are?"

He'd probably most likely reply, "No, I'm waiting for a friend, but thanks anyway," and be done with it, then turn and go wandering away.

Well, there goes that idea flying out the window.

Damn.

It was only then that I realized that he was looking straight at me.

"What the—" I started to ask, then stopped. He was crossing the street towards me! His gaze was still fixed on me and was serious now, but I, still foolishly hoping I was wrong about all this, began stalking across the street and in the direction of my home. I had wasted enough time over here already; if I didn't hurry up NOW, then I would be late to pick up my little sister from her school at 3:15 PM!

No, wait, that's a given. I'm always late, even if I get home early.

Still.

I told myself I was panicking, simply not thinking straight. I have an anxiety disorder and have the tendency to freak out at the most inopportune times.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me. My anxiety set aside, I waited to see what he would do. Would he pass me? Walk beside me? Take out a knife and kill me? (The latter was not too likely, seeing as how we were on a residential street with plenty of people around, and we were

quickly approaching a busier road.)

"Umm, miss." The man spoke in a British accent. "A word, please?"

I turned around. "Yes?"

"Oh, so you do go to St. Spirit Catholic high school. Very nice school, if not a slight bit small." He simply jammed his hands in his pockets and nodded slowly at the emblem on my uniform. I was beginning to relax now. Just a minor panic attack, nothing more. It was thankfully nothing major.

"Oh? What about St. S?" I asked.

"That's what you call it?" he asked.

"Yep!" This man was British, so evidently he couldn't know. He fixed me with those penetrating eyes of his as he began, "So... about your school. You're going on a retreat, right? For Religion class?" I simply nodded slowly. Sagely, actually I thought. It was a bit strange how he knew, but I didn't press the matter.

"Why do you want to know?" I asked him.

"Oh, no reason." He grinned at me. "Just curious."

"You're not from around here… are you, sir?" I asked. He didn't seem like a threat, but appearances can be deceiving sometimes. Or however that saying goes.

"Oh, please don't call me that," he said, suddenly frowning, and waved his hand as if warding off the term. "'Sir' is such a stuffy old term."

"Oh… okay." I blinked. "Well, then. What should call you?"

"Oh, I forgot," he exclaimed suddenly, grinning that crazy, somewhat dazed-looking grin again. "I'm the Doctor! And who might you be?"

"Oh… my name is Amber," I said slowly.