I was standing outside the front of my apartment building finishing a smoke when the Doctor appeared out of absolutely freaking nowhere. To my credit, I didn't jump or scream or anything like that. Ok, maybe I did. But just a little.
"Hello," the Doctor said, practically beaming. I could've sworn his teeth looked sharper this morning.
"Uh. Hi." I blew out a cloud of smoke and the Doctor watched it fade away curiously, head tipped to the side. "You startled me."
"My apologies." The Doctor glanced at me, then back to where the smoke had been. He hadn't blinked once, which was more than a little unnerving. Then he tipped his head back and exhaled, a long, white trail of vapor escaping into the air. I stared at him, dumbfounded. The air outside wasn't cold enough to freeze breath yet, so how the hell had he done that? The Doctor noticed my stare and blinked slowly, smiling innocently at me.
"How...never mind." I dismissed the question, writing it off as another faerie trick. I shook my head and stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray on the garbage can before stuffing my hands in my pockets, wishing I actually had a decent pair of gloves. "Did you want something?"
"Are you going to investigate the lot now?" The Doctor had moved closer and I forced myself to stay still.
"Nah. It's Monday, I gotta go to work."
"Oh." The Doctor frowned briefly. "May I come with?"
"No!" The words were out of my mouth before I'd even had time to think. The Doctor narrowed his eyes and I swallowed nervously. "S-sorry, what I meant is, um...I don't think that'd be a very good idea."
"Why not?" He was doing that head-tipping thing again, looking absolutely crestfallen. I felt like I'd just kicked a puppy. Maybe letting him tag along wouldn't be such a bad thing.
Ok. Hold up. Don't being going soft, I chided myself. God only knew what kind of trouble he could get up to with all those plants. He'd probably get me fired or something, and then where would I be?
I braved a glance at the Doctor, who was giving me the saddest look I'd ever seen, and felt my resolve waver. Damn emotionally manipulative faeries. "Ok," I sighed. "You can come with. Just stay out of trouble, all right?" The Doctor's face lit up instantly and he nodded, smiling.
"I knew you'd say yes," he said in what sounded like a very smug tone. I eyed him.
"Oh, yeah? Why's that?"
"You are an honest man."
"No I'm not," I said, affronted. "I lie all the time. I'm the most untrustworthy person to exist."
The Doctor shook his head. "That's not true. Why would you believe that?"
"Dunno," I muttered, looking away. "Guess if you hear something enough…"
A cold hand touched my face and I jumped slightly, turning to look down at the Doctor. He was staring at me, his bright blue eyes unreadable. "Wrong." His voice was tight. "The people who said that to you, they were wrong. I know. I can see your heart." The Doctor moved his hand down, pressing it against my chest. "And I am always right."
"Oh, are you now?" I joked, trying to lighten the mood. There was this weird heaviness in the air. It didn't feel bad, necessarily, but I wasn't sure if I liked it. The Doctor drew back with a laugh, the silvery sound of it sending a shiver through me.
"Yes." He said with total confidence. Then he blinked, staring at me. "When does your work start?"
"Crap." I checked my watch. "I'm going to be late. Again." I started walking as fast as I could, the Doctor keeping pace with me easily. I work at a garden center a few blocks away. It's not exactly my dream career but it's something. Business had been slowing down for the past couple weeks due to the onset of winter, but it would spring right back up again next month. Christmas trees and wreaths and mistletoe and all that. You know.
I practically ran down the sidewalk, weaving through the crowds. The Doctor didn't seem to be having any trouble at all, as evidenced by the fact that he was spouting plant trivia at me. "Did you know," he said, not in the slightest bit out of breath, "that in the language of flowers, snapdragons symbolize deceit-"
"That's...great," I cut him off, breathing heavily. "But we're here." I leaned against the brick front of the garden center, trying to get some air back into my lungs. Man, I needed to exercise more. "You can't hang around me all day, y'know. I'll get in trouble."
"I will stay out of your way then." The Doctor breezed inside, leaving me staring after him in exasperation. Ugh. I followed after him a few seconds later but he was nowhere in sight. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.
"Okay. You can handle this," I muttered to myself. "It's just a normal work day, even though a faerie who won't leave you alone is here doing God knows what."
"Fitz, who're you talking to?" A passing coworker paused, holding a potted plant.
"Nobody!" I gave them what I hoped was a disarming smile but probably looked more like I was going off my rocker.
"Ok," they said doubtfully. "You know you're late again, right?"
"Yeah," I said glumly. "Bad couple days."
"Well, we covered for you. If you get back there fast enough you should be okay."
"Thanks." I gave them a sincere smile and went to check myself in. I usually work at the register and I quickly set everything up, grateful that my boss hadn't noticed my lateness. At least I had an actual excuse this time.
The excuse in question popped up about twenty minutes later, clutching a fern. "This place is wonderful," the Doctor said with a smile. He sounded like he meant it. "Did you know there are butterflies?"
"Yeah, we keep a garden for them. It attracts customers."
"Hmm." The Doctor made a humming noise, staring off into space for a few minutes. Then he shook his head and held the fern out. "This is for you."
"Um. Thanks." I took the plant and placed it on the floor, mentally making a note to replace it when my shift was over.
"Do you know flower language?" The Doctor asked suddenly, leaning over the counter.
"No," I said cautiously, dragging out the 'o'. "Why?"
"Humans," the Doctor said sadly, ignoring me. "You make up something beautiful, then forget all about it." He shook his head and turned around, disappearing back into the rows of plants. I decided not to question what that had been about.
The rest of the day dragged by. My job is hardly the most exciting thing in the first place, and it's even more boring on slow days with barely any customers. I didn't see the Doctor again until a couple hours later, right before closing time. He was holding another plant: a flower this time.
"Look at this begonia," he said mournfully. The flower didn't look too good, to be honest. The stem was drooping and the petals were falling off at an alarming rate. "I found it crushed in the back of the store."
"Give it to me. We'll throw it out, it's not worth anything anymore." I reached out to take the flower but the Doctor snatched it away, shaking his head.
"No. I want it."
"Doctor, it's half-dead. What're you going to do with it?"
"Rescue it." His eyes stared into mine and I was once again grateful that we couldn't soulgaze. I sighed, deciding to argue with him anymore. He was a faerie, after all. Maybe he'd bring it back to the Never Never where it'd turn out to be a flower princess under a spell. Or something.
"All right. You have to pay for it still, though."
"I know." The Doctor set the begonia down on the counter and rummaged through his coat pockets, pulling out things that couldn't possibly fit in there and handing them to me. I didn't recognize any of the objects. "Ah. This will do." He produced a hundred-dollar bill with a flourish and I blinked. What was a faerie doing with paper money?
"No kidding." I took the money and dug through the register for change. "Ok, we have to close up shop soon. You have to leave." I paused, then added, "please." The Doctor took his change and the the begonia, hugging the plant to his chest.
"Are you going to the lot afterwards?"
"Yeah, might as well. Hopefully I'll find something before it gets too dark."
"I will wait for you outside." The Doctor smiled, then turned and made his way to the doors. I shook my head as he left, closing up my area. Bring Your Faerie to Work Day had gone a ton better than I was expecting, which was good. That meant, of course, due to the inverse ratio of the universe that said every good thing must be followed up by a bad thing, tonight's investigative activities were going to go down terribly.
Fab.