A/N: You can find Alex's outfits for this chapter on my Tumblr, under the name 'darksideofparis'.

Things were a lot better in the TARDIS now that Rory was traveling with them. For starters, Amy had gotten over her little school-girl crush on the Doctor, which had opened her eyes to the love she had for her fiancé . . . and the fact that the Doctor and Alex's connection with each-other was far too extraordinary to try and ruin.

She was especially alerted to it after their adventure on Barcelona, where the Doctor had to rescue Alex from a bomb she was tied to that had been set to explode the whole planet in less than three minutes so that an evil megalomaniac could sell the remains as fuel to other races. When they got back, the Doctor had barely let Alex out of his sight. Amy watched them as Alex attempted to try and make brownies, a skill that she would never achieve, no matter how hard she tried.

"Doctor, move!" Alex laughed, shoving him to the side with her hip as she measured out the mix. Amy noted that it was about two inches more than the recipe called for.

"That's too much," the Doctor crowed from beside her. He peered into the bowl. "Two point five inches over actually."

"Is that the superior Time Lord side coming out?" Alex questioned, challengingly arching an eyebrow.

The Doctor pretended to look insulted. "Yes!" he indignantly cried. He picked her up by the waist and placed her to the side, Alex squealing and giggling. "Let me show you how it's done."

"Oh, so you cook?" Alex said doubtfully. She leaned back against the kitchen counter, showing off her slim physique in a tight white t-shirt and black mini-skirt with patterned tights.

The Doctor poured some of the brownie mix back into the box. "Yes. I ever take you to Paris, I'll show you. I'm quite known there for my ratatouille." He pronounced this final word incorrectly, which Alex immediately pounced on.

"Ratatouille," Alex corrected, pronouncing it in the correct French way. "You're saying it wrong. My French teacher drilled it into our brains after that ridiculous Disney movie came out."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Fine. Ratatouille. Now go fetch me that measuring cup. Second cabinet, left side."

Alex looked indignant but marched over to the cabinet anyways. "Why do I have to fetch it?" she grumbled as she walked back over to him. "You're the one who took over, remember?"

"My kitchen, my rules," the Doctor smirked at her.

As the two continued bantering and playfully bickering, Rory came up behind Amy. "Okay, seriously, how are those two not together?" he asked in a low voice so that the Doctor and Alex wouldn't hear him.

Amy sighed. "I have no idea," she confessed. "I mean, they are so protective of each-other. Remember how the Doctor nearly hit the guard that was blocking him from where Alex was being held?"

"Yes," Rory said. "Or how Alex kicked a guy in the shin when he said something negative about the Doctor's bow-tie?"

"Yes," Amy said, "even though she also pokes fun at it." She pulled Rory over to the soda fountain counter that lined the outside of the kitchen. "Thing is," she began as she settled on a stool, "those two are very attracted to each-other. They just won't admit it."

"Tell me about it," Rory agreed. "Did you see how the Doctor was ogling her in Venice when you made her dress in that jumpsuit?"

"And Alex hasn't thrown out the rose he gave her either," Amy revealed. "Even though it's completely wilted now, it's still sitting in a vase on her desk." She suddenly jumped as she remembered something. "Oh! I almost forgot! Alex told me about something that happened in Venice." She quickly told Rory about the Doctor breaking the nose of the guard that had slapped Alex.

Rory gaped at her. "The Doctor did that?!" he cried, turning on his stool to look at the doorway leading to the kitchen, the Doctor and Alex's voices echoing out.

Amy nodded. "Alex said she had never seen him so enraged. She had no idea he would do that, even though we all saw his reaction to the mark on her face."

"It's just as you said. They are protective of each-other."

"Precisely. And have you ever noticed how they finish each-other's sentences?"

"And say things at the exact same time?"

Amy twirled around on her stool. "They're in love," she sang softly. All of a sudden, she stopped twirling and leaned forward so that she was almost touching Rory's forehead. "We need to get those two together."

"You want to play matchmaker?" Rory asked skeptically. He seriously didn't think either the Doctor or Alex would go for Amy shoving them into a closet together with nothing but a bottle of champagne.

"I'm not saying we lock them up in a closet," Amy said, reading Rory's thoughts. "We just need to push them together a little." She hopped off her stool and strode over to the doorway. She gestured for Rory to follow her and once he did, pointed into the kitchen. "I mean, look at them! Don't they look like a couple?"

Rory followed her gaze into the kitchen where the Doctor had jokingly tossed a bit of flour into Alex's face. Alex was currently threatening him with a bottle of whipped cream, but the effect was ruined by her giggling every five seconds. After a minute, she placed the bottle down on the counter and flounced over to the radio that the TARDIS, for whatever reason, kept in there. She switched it on, allowing the opening strains of L-O-V-E to fill the room. Smirking, she went back over to the Doctor. He held out his hand and once she took it, pulled her towards him. He placed his hand delicately on her waist and began to twirl her around, both of them completely oblivious to the fact that their actions were being observed.

Rory leaned over to whisper to Amy. "Yes, they definitely look like a couple in love."

Amy looked very smug. "My point exactly!" she chirped. "So, are you going to help me?"

Rory sighed. He could easily tell that the Doctor and Alex cared for each-other and he had to admit, he would like for them to get together. "Okay," he agreed. "I'm in."

~Living the Life of Ally~

But it was harder than it seemed to actually get two people together.

For starters, both the Doctor and Alex were stubborn, incredibly stubborn. Neither would ever admit they were attracted to the other and both would adamantly tell Amy and Rory to keep their nose out of their relationship with the other. Subtle hints didn't work and Amy and Rory were beginning to despair and worry that their plan wouldn't work.

Two weeks had passed since they first drafted the scheme and they were beginning to work on Plan B. Only problem was that they didn't know what Plan B was. Amy and Rory sat in a corner of the control room, discussing ideas while the Doctor ran around the console, blabbering about flamingos or something. Alex was perched right across from him, seemingly engrossed in a thick non-fiction book titled The Complete History of Paris, France - Vol. 4. In actuality, she was also listening to the Doctor. Amy and Rory had discovered that she multi-tasked whenever the Doctor began going on his rants.

This was a seemingly normal day in the TARDIS . . . until Alex's phone rang.

Everyone jumped as Alex's phone started belting out the chorus to a Rascal Flatts song. Alex hastily put her book down and grabbed her phone. Without even glancing at the Caller ID, she pressed the talk button and lifted the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

A bunch of excited screaming came from the other end, causing the others to jump again and Alex to jerk the phone back in shock. She glanced at the ID, rolled her eyes, and lifted it back to her ear. "Hello?" she said impatiently, but the only response she got was continued screaming.

Alex held the phone out far away from her, the screaming still very audible. She sighed and slapped a hand over it. "Okay!" she said brightly. "From what I can tell, the world is coming to an end and my best friend decided to call and tell me!" She got up and smiled apologetically. "I'll be back in a second." Alex swiftly hurried up the stairs, the last thing out of her before she got out of earshot being, "Jesus Christ, Lacey! Stop screaming! I'm not deaf!"

Rory chuckled. "It must be her friend from home, Lacey Abernathy," he told the confused looking Doctor.

"Home where?" the Doctor asked. Alex had never mentioned her hometown to him, aside from a few vague references.

"Bristol, Kentucky," Amy clarified. "She doesn't speak about it much, but when she does, she sounds like she likes it."

"Hmm," the Doctor mused before turning back to the console. As he pulled down a lever, he asked, "How long has she been living in Leadworth?"

"Two years," Amy answered.

"And in that time, just out of curiosity, did she ever go back home?"

"Never," Rory said adamantly.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at him. "Never?" he repeated. "Not for holidays or a birthday, even a funeral? Never?"

"Never," Amy confirmed.

"But she does speak to her friend Lacey a lot," Rory added. "They've been friends all their lives."

As the group discussed Alex's life pre-Leadworth, Alex walked into her bedroom and shut the door. She held the phone patiently to her ear as she flopped down sideways on the bed. Being patient was something she had acquired after knowing Lacey for so long.

"OHMYGOSH ALEX!" Lacey squealed on the other end. "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?! I'VE BEEN TRYING TO CALL YOU FOR DAYS BUT I CAN NEVER GET THROUGH!"

Alex blushed slightly, thankful that Lacey couldn't see her. The Doctor had upgraded her phone to Universal Roaming just yesterday. "Oh, my phone's been broke," she lied. "I only got it fixed just this morning."

"Okay," Lacey said, a bit more subdued. Alex mentally sighed. It was too easy to lie to Lacey on the phone but in person, it was way harder. Despite her bubbly and clueless exterior, Lacey could be pretty sharp-witted when she wanted to be. "So, what have you been up to?"

Alex thought for a moment. Where to begin? What could she say that wouldn't sound like she needed to be placed in a mental hospital stat? Deciding to go for a grain of truth, she replied, "Well, traveling a little. It's a lot of fun."

"Don't you have a wedding to obsess over in the next few days?"

Alex mentally calculated Lacey's current time. The Doctor had warned her that calls could come from anywhere in her timeline. "Uh, yeah, but I'm only maid of honor. Amy and Rory are doing all the worrying."

"I really wish I could meet them," Lacey revealed. "They sound really great." Another good thing about Lacey was that she wasn't jealous. She had been relieved to hear that Alex had made friends in Leadworth.

"Yeah," Alex said. "So, how's Marigold?"

Lacey groaned. "Ugh! She's still badgering me about when I'm going to go to college. I wish you were here! She wouldn't hound me about it in front of you!"

Alex laughed. "I doubt that."

"It's true!" Lacey insisted. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I know she loves me, but you've always been her favorite out of the two of us. You got good grades, were little Miss Perfect, got into a great college—"

"Which I was kicked out of," Alex reminded her.

"Details, details," Lacey said impatiently. Alex could almost envision her waving her hand while saying this, brushing aside Alex's statement. "Point is, I wish you would visit. You haven't been home in two years!"

"God, I can't go back there," Alex argued, sitting back up. As she jumped off the bed and headed over to the door, she said, "You know how Carla and I get along."

"Everybody in town knows," Lacey remarked dryly. "But you don't need to worry about Carla. She's off on a drinking binge. She's been gone for two weeks."

"Maybe she'll choke herself on moonshine," Alex said bitterly as she headed down the hallway back towards the control room.

"Or finally cause her liver to explode on her next bottle of Budweiser," Lacey joked. Though they knew it was cruel, both girls liked to envision Carla spontaneously exploding from one too many cans of beer. If anyone deserved it, it was Carla.

Alex sighed as she entered the control room. "Well, as much as that news relieves me. . ." She trailed off as she saw the Doctor looking very, very smug, more so than usual, and Amy and Rory looking like the cats that ate the canary.

"Uh, Lacey? Hold on a second." There was a squawk of protest from Lacey, but Alex had already covered the phone with one hand. She raised an eyebrow at the group. "Okay, out with it," she commanded. "What're you all looking so giddy about?"

She looked over at the Doctor, who she assumed was the mastermind of whatever they had planned. "Doctor?" she said, fixing a critical gaze on him. It was one of her best looks, a look that used to put annoying boys into silence and get teachers to get off her back whenever she swore in the hallway or smoked in the parking lot.

The Doctor smiled at her and Alex relaxed almost instantaneously. For some reason, whenever he looked at her like that, she felt like the safest girl in the universe. "Ally," he said slowly, exciting her more, "how would you like to go and visit Bristol for a little while?"

Alex gaped at him. Is he serious? "Bristol. . . You mean as in my home-town Bristol?"

The Doctor nodded. "The very same."

Alex felt like jumping up and down but managed to restrain herself. She had a feeling that the others were tiring of her bouncing up and down like a kangaroo on crack. Even she had to admit that it was a bit exhausting. "Sounds great!" she cried, allowing the excitement to come through her voice. She dashed over and, keeping one hand planted on the phone, gave him a quick, fleeting hug before whirling around to continue her phone conversation.

"Lacey, what's today's date?" she asked.

She could practically feel her friend's surprise at the question on the other end. "Uh, the sixteenth," she answered. "June 16th, 2010. Don't you know that?"

"England's five hours ahead and I haven't had a chance to look at a calendar lately," Alex replied quickly, satisfied that a glimmer of truth was in her answer. She looked over at the Doctor, who was racing around the console rapidly, flicking switches and pressing buttons. "Okay, Lace, do me an incredible favor; I need you to go outside of town tomorrow, by Lover's Lane, at ten thirty."

"What?" Lacey cried, totally confused. "Alex, what are you on about?"

"Just do it," Alex insisted. "Promise me, okay?"

Lacey huffed and Alex could imagine her rolling her eyes, staring up at the constellation painted ceiling in her bedroom. "Kay. Ten thirty, Lover's Lane, important favor, got it. But can you tell me what I'm going to be doing there?"

Alex grinned, even though she knew Lacey couldn't see her. "Trust me, Lacey," she said cryptically. It seemed even more of the Doctor was rubbing off on her than she realized. "You'll know." And before Lacey could ask any more questions, Alex hung up the phone and turned to the Doctor.

"You catch all that?" she asked, going around the console to him. Once he had nodded, she added, "And you better get us there on time. No twelve-year thing like you did with Amy."

"Oi!" the Doctor cried, looking at her, his face put-out. "That was one time!"

Alex stared him down. "Funny, because I recall you telling me that you once got Rose Tyler home a year late."

"What?" Amy cried from her seat. She turned to give the Doctor a sharp look. "I'm not the first you've been late with then?"

The Doctor muttered something unintelligible under his breath though Alex caught last time I tell her anything and bloody girls ganging up on me. She snickered a little into her hand. She loved messing with the Doctor. It was one of the many benefits she got traveling with him.

As the Doctor piloted the TARDIS, Amy and Rory clutched the bottom of their seat for balance while Alex hung onto the railing. She glanced down at her outfit; ripped jeans with a short white sundress over it, along with white sneakers. Her only jewelry was a pair of flower stud earrings with blue jewels in them and her parents' wedding bands. In other words, it was a good outfit for the hot weather that was currently hitting Kentucky at this time of year.

Right at that moment, the TARDIS let out its familiar vworp-vworp noise and landed with a solid thump. Alex squealed and tucked her Blackberry into her back pocket. She raced down the stairs to the doors but once she got there, stopped and turned to look at the others. She frowned slightly. They were all dressed in layers, being unused to extreme heat - at least, Amy and Rory were, the Doctor possibly not.

"Um," Alex began, casting a look at the Doctor's tweed jacket, "I should warn you. Kentucky is pretty hot at this time of year. You all might want to change."

"Alex, we'll be fine!" Amy argued. Alex cocked an eyebrow at her. Amy was currently dressed in black tights, a red mini-skirt, a long-sleeved black top, black leather boots, and a jean jacket. She'd burn up in ten seconds flat. Rory was just as bad in a blue long-sleeved collared shirt, jeans, and boots. And the Doctor . . . well, it'd be a miracle if he didn't break a sweat.

Alex sighed and shook her head, resigned. It was their decision. If they all wanted to sweat five pounds off, that was their business. At least now she could say that she had warned them. She turned back around and reached out to open the doors.

Alex grinned as she stepped out into the Kentucky sunshine. The TARDIS had parked right inside an old tunnel created by a huge hoard of oak trees, which was primarily called Lover's Lane due to its popularity with the high-school crowd. Alex had been a visitor to it as well and had indulged in many kisses and more in that old tunnel.

Behind her, she heard the TARDIS door swing open and then an irate Scottish voice curse as the heat settled on her. Rory followed Amy out and settled for a somewhat surprised, "Blimey, it's hot!" Alex expected a comment from the Doctor, but none came.

Alex marched across the dirt road next to Lover's Lane to perch on the old blue wooden fence that surrounded a large horse pasture. The pasture belonged to Joe McHale, a farmer in his sixties who was more known for making moonshine than breeding Kentucky Derby winners. She swung her legs and giggled slightly at the sight of Amy gathering her long red hair up in one hand and fanning the back of her neck with the other.

A sudden burst in dust caught Alex's attention. Coming down the road was a familiar white Volkswagen Rabbit convertible, going faster than it probably should. The car came to an abrupt stop just a few feet down from Alex, the giant foam four-leaf clover that hung from the rear-view mirror swinging wildly. The car door was thrust open and slammed with the same amount of force. Out came a young woman Alex's age. She had curly blonde hair that came down to her collarbone and sapphire blue eyes currently hidden by a pair of white sunglasses. The girl wore a lace mint green sundress tucked into a pair of white short-shorts with a pair of matching green rhinestone sandals. Alex watched as the girl came to a stop in front of her and pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head.

"Alexandria Locke!" Lacey Abernathy screamed.

"Lacey!" Alex matched her voice. She jumped off the fence and raced over to hug her friend enthusiastically.

"Oh my God, how are you here?!" Lacey squealed, clutching Alex close. "I only called you yesterday!" She pulled back and swatted Alex's arm. "Why the hell didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise. So . . . surprise!" Alex grinned. She was immediately pulled into another hug by Lacey.

"I'm so glad to see you!" Lacey cried. "You haven't changed a bit." She pulled back again and grinned. "Well, aside from giving up head-to-toe black of course."

"Are you ever going to let that go?" Alex groaned. "It was a phase! I grew out of it!"

Lacey smirked at her and led Alex back across the road. "Well, Alex, I don't know. Mind telling me who your friends are?"

Alex laughed and dragged Lacey over to the others. "Lacey Abernathy, meet Amy Pond and Rory Williams. Guys, the infamous Lacey Abernathy."

"It's great to finally meet you," Amy said as she fanned her face. A thin sheen of sweat had already gathered on her brow and would soon wreak havoc on her mascara.

"Alex has told us a lot about you," Rory added.

"All horrid knowing her," Lacey laughed.

Alex snorted. "And all true!" She had plenty of stories that detailed the many insane things Lacey had done over the years, including stealing a duck on her sixteenth birthday, getting flat out drunk on a bottle of Bacardi right before taking the ACT, and the various excuses she came up with to get out of doing term papers and math problems.

"Well, it's good to meet the couple Alex has spent two years shoving together," Lacey remarked. She appraised the two as though she were a farmer in the area checking out a horse to buy. Amy and Rory blushed slightly - though Alex suspected it also had something to do with the heat - and Lacey moved her gaze from them right to the Doctor.

Alex watched as Lacey's eyebrows shot upwards and she placed one hand on her hip, her mouth curving into a smile. That was Lacey's classic flirting pose and it had never failed to charm the guys in high-school. Lacey had clearly noticed that the Doctor was extremely hot despite his Oxford professor-style attire and was ready to show him just how fun Southern girls could be.

"Hello there," Lacey greeted, drawing up her accent. "Lacey Abernathy, best friend of Alex. Who might you be?"

The Doctor eyed her, a slight smile on his face. Alex's blood turned cold. If he started flirting with her best friend, she'd go throw herself off Red River Gorge. Or claw Lacey's and his eyes out. Whichever suited her fancy. "So I've heard," he said. "Dr. John Smith, but everyone calls me the Doctor."

Alex could practically see Lacey mentally swoon at his British accent. "A doctor? Of what?"

"Oh, many things," the Doctor replied casually. His tone was playful and mysterious, making Alex want to shake him. Why is he flirting with her when he could be flirting with me? She thought pettily.

Lacey giggled and Alex resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Okay!" she exclaimed quickly before the Doctor and Lacey could get engaged. "Lace, how about we stop and see Marigold? You said yourself she'd be glad to see me."

Lacey turned to give her friend a withering look, but the Doctor pounced on this suggestion. "Sounds fun!" he said enthusiastically. "You two go ahead. We'll catch up with you later."

"Great!" Alex agreed quickly before anybody could try to alter this plan. "Don't go getting into trouble, okay? People around here own guns, sometimes more than one."

"We'll keep an eye on him," Amy promised.

Once she had said good-bye, Alex dragged Lacey over to the Rabbit and hopped inside the passenger seat. Lacey turned the key and put the car in reverse, then drive. As the two drove out of sight, Alex dug around in the glove compartment for some music. "Jason Aldean, Jason Aldean, Jason Aldean – God, Lacey, are you married to the guy? - Lady Antebellum, ooh, what's this?" Alex pulled out a Grateful Dead CD. "Going punk on me, Lacey?"

"Ha, ha, ha," Lacey replied monotonously. "For your information, that's Brett's. His car is broken and I've been driving him to work every day while it's being fixed."

Alex whistled. "Ooh, somebody's been busy," she teased. Brett Parker had been Lacey's steady boyfriend during senior year until they famously broke up at prom right after Brett had been crowned Prom King with his ex-girlfriend.

"We're just friends, Alex!" Lacey argued. "Don't read so much into it!"

"Well, I'm glad you're not dating a punk again," Alex said. "Freshman year was good enough for me."

"Johnny wasn't a punk!" Lacey protested, slapping the steering wheel for emphasis. "He was sweet!"

Alex couldn't help but snort. "So, you call a guy who wore a black leather jacket and black jeans 24/7 with two face piercings and rambled on about how punk music was prophetic sweet?"

Lacey ignored her and simply switched the radio on to a Garth Brooks song. The two softly sang along to the song as they passed dozens of fields of farmland and wild blackberry bushes before finally reaching a large blue metal road sign. Welcome to Bristol, Kentucky, it read. Population 2,200. Alex noticed that the population number had been crossed out and a new number written underneath it; 2,195.

Lacey noticed Alex staring at it and explained. "The Mahoney's moved three months ago. Mr. Mahoney got a job in Tennessee. Something to do with tourism or some such thing. Debbie and Carl acted like little vagrants when they heard the news. They're probably torturing their parents, trying to get them to move back here as we speak."

Lacey took a left turn past the sign, plunging them into a wooded area containing rose bushes with wild briars on them, several gnarled oak trees, and a few rabbits that scattered as the convertible sped down the road. The road abruptly switched from dirt to gravel and the woods cleared out to reveal a lush golf-course green lawn, a small series of immaculately trimmed hedges lining a gravel drive. Lacey pulled up into a round concrete driveway, right next to a freshly painted blue fountain with a fat cherub in its center. As Lacey got out, Alex looked up at the beautiful Southern mansion that she truly considered home.

The house was painted butterscotch yellow and had three floors. A balcony hung from the second floor and the porch was flanked by a series of white columns. Every window was covered with white silk drapes, a few of them open to allow air into the house. Bundles of pink hollyhocks had been planted around the porch and Alex quickly spotted the large, sleek black Lexus that Marigold was well-known for driving just around the house, outside the garage.

Lacey leaned against the back of the Rabbit and drew out her cell-phone. Pressing a few buttons, she placed the phone to her ear and began talking. "Hey, Auntie!" she chirped. Alex snickered into her palm as Lacey continued. "Listen, can you come outside for a sec? It's very important." Lacey was silent for a moment before abruptly hanging up the phone. "She's coming!" she sang.

Alex watched the large red door to the house open and beamed as a person came through it. Marigold Abernathy was truly a beautiful woman. As far as Alex knew, she was in her mid-forties but looking at her, you'd swear she wasn't a day over thirty. Marigold had long, layered blonde hair, Lacey's sapphire blue eyes, and a figure that had been obtained through countless hours of Pilates and liposuction. Today, in mind of the weather, Marigold wore a white skirt suit with a white blouse, tall white designer heels, and simple hoop earrings.

"Lacey Rose!" Marigold said in a thick Southern accent as she came out onto the porch. "Why on earth do you want me. . ." Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of the passenger in Lacey's car.

"Alexandria Locke!" Marigold cried, her eyes shining. Alex smiled and jumped out of the car, racing over to her. As Marigold grasped her into a tight embrace, she beamed, "Look at you! You are so pretty! I swear, you haven't aged a day!"

"Thanks," Alex laughed. "It's so great to see you! I've missed you."

"I've been the same, darling," Marigold laughed. She looked over at Lacey, who was looking rather pleased with herself. "Lacey Rose, why didn't you tell me she was coming in? I could've had a whole room made up!"

Lacey rolled her eyes. "I didn't even know she was coming, Auntie!" she cried. "Alex called me last night and told me to go out by Lover's Lane at ten thirty this morning. I saw her there with a few friends of hers and we sped over here."

Marigold sighed. "Well, regardless, I'm delighted you've come in." She eyed Alex critically. "How long are you here for? You'll be staying here, of course. I don't care if that dratted woman is gone off on a drinking binge; you aren't breaking into that house and staying by yourself." By 'dratted woman', she meant Carla, of course. Marigold had never liked Carla and wouldn't hesitate to say so.

"Probably a day," Alex said apologetically. She was grateful that the Doctor had offered to let her visit her home for a while, but she doubted he'd stay here longer than a day. Sooner or later, he'd get bored.

Marigold's eyebrows shot up, although not by much. Alex suspected she'd gotten Botox recently. "A day?!" she cried. "Oh lord no, I won't hear of it. You'll suffer from extreme jet lag."

"Some friends of mine from England came here with me," Alex explained. "And they are not used to this heat. They'll want to leave pretty soon."

Lacey snorted. "No kidding, Auntie! You should've seen them. That girl Amy I told you about? She was wearing a jean jacket, tights, and a long-sleeved shirt in ninety-degree weather! Her fiancé was wearing a long-sleeved collared shirt and jeans! They'll drop dead of sunstroke before noon."

"Well, I'm sure they can get proper clothes in one of the stores in town," Marigold dismissed. Marigold was always willing to order others around and take control of situations. This was one of the reasons Alex loved her. She had helped her during some pretty tough times in her life. She looked over Alex appraisingly. "And lord, do you need some sun! I know England is famous for being absolutely wet all the time, but that's no excuse for you to be so pale like that!"

"I'll be fine," Alex assured her.

"Well, get some sunscreen at the gas station when you go to town," Marigold told her. "I know you girls won't stay here much longer. Tell Wanda to put it on my tab. And don't protest, Alex; I insist and won't take no for an answer."

Alex laughed. Trying to say no to Marigold was next to impossible. It was like trying to tell a group of charging cattle to stop stampeding. "Okay, I will," she promised. She balanced on tip-toe and kissed Marigold's cheek. "I'll see you later!"

"I expect you back here for dinner," Marigold informed her. "I'm telling the cook to make all your favorites. You need some meat on your bones. You're positively skinny!"

Alex was actually at a healthy weight but agreed nevertheless. "Alright," she swore. "I'll be back." She could probably talk the Doctor into allowing her to stay the night. He, Amy, and Rory could go off in the TARDIS for a little while if they got really bored.

Alex hopped into the car, Lacey right behind her. As they sped off down the driveway, Alex waving a quick good-bye to Marigold, Lacey piped up. "See?!" she cried excitedly. "I TOLD you that you were her favorite! And she didn't jump on me about college at all! I swear, every five minutes it's been Lacey, when are you going to stop waitressing at that god-forsaken diner and get an education?"

"I thought you quit waitressing," Alex remarked. She rummaged around in the glove compartment and pulled out the spare pair of aviator Ray-Bans Lacey kept there.

Lacey tugged her sunglasses back down. "The Polka-Dot Shop closed," she revealed. For the last couple of months, Lacey had worked at the little kid's clothing store, citing it better than waitressing. "Kate turned sixty-five and said she didn't think she could run around like that anymore. The girls and I offered to work longer hours but she ended up closing shop anyway."

"Damn," Alex muttered. "Let's see, that only leaves the Dollar Tree, the diner, Scooter's, and the auto garage."

"Tell me about it," Lacey muttered. "I swear, none of the shops will hire any of us anymore! Remember the number there used to be back in high school?"

"Eight," Alex said wistfully. "And that decreased when Ben Riley and his cousin set off a smoke bomb in Blockbuster. And then one in the library."

"Right," Lacey mused. "Hey, who was Ben's cousin? I can't remember. Wasn't he a freshman when we were juniors?"

"I think so." Alex thought for a moment. "Max Richmond, I think. I remember thinking he looked like a mini-Channing Tatum, only with black hair."

The girls continued talking as they approached Bristol proper. Right outside the main part of town was a Circle K gas station. Alex fondly remembered driving up every morning before school, either in her car or with one of her friends who drove her when Carla was home, and getting a large Polar Pop with Diet Coke that she would suck on until third period. That gas station had also supplied her with various things whenever emergency struck, from feminine hygiene, to snack cravings, to the many supplies she needed whenever she ditched school.

Alex vaulted over the car door, just like she had done a thousand times before. Dashing into the gas station, she paused to deeply breathe in the familiar scent of Clorox and cheap air freshener that smelled a lot like pinecones. Right by the counter were several bottles of sunscreen. Alex grabbed a bottle and slapped it on the counter. "Hi, Wanda," she greeted the older heavyset woman behind the counter. "Marigold told me to tell you to put this on her tab."

Wanda smiled at her and wrote the price down on a small pad of paper. "Alex, it's been too long," she said. "Gosh, it's like it was only yesterday you came zipping in here, grabbing a drink before zipping back out again!"

Alex laughed. "That's me all right." Alex said good-bye to Wanda, grabbed the sunscreen, and headed back outside. Once Lacey had begun to drive again, Alex rubbed some of the coconut scented mixture on her shoulders and arms. Tossing the bottle in the backseat, Alex leaned back in the leather seat and breathed in the fresh country air.

"God, I missed this place," she sighed.

"England does not have our southern charm, does it?" Lacey joked.

"Pretty much," Alex admitted. "I've missed it."

Lacey laughed and cranked the radio up to where the music was making the seats vibrate. As Brad Paisley sang, she assured Alex, "We'll soon fix that."

The two drove into town and Alex grinned as she spotted the many stores she had frequented during her youth. On Lacey's side, there was the large Kroger, built when she was twelve and where she had gotten many of her groceries. Next to it was The Wine Cellar, where she had to heavily flirt with a clerk one time before she could be allowed to purchase a huge bottle of Maker's Mark whiskey. On Alex's side, she spotted a local barbeque place, a used car dealership, and Bristol Drugs, where she used to purchase Red Hots candy and where she had shoplifted a dolphin statue on a dare when she was fifteen. She had returned the statue during the night though; her conscience had forced her.

Once reaching a crossroads past all this, Lacey took a right turn which led them past the car dealership and over to a small strip mall. She parked in front of a tanning salon and tooted the horn. "Bailey's working here now," she explained.

Alex smiled as a young blonde woman came running out the door, dressed in a blue, red, and white plaid sundress and brown mid-calf leather boots. "Ally!" Bailey Adkins cried as she raced over to the car and jumped up on the running board. Bailey had been one of Alex's friends all throughout school.

Alex fixed her with an icy glare. "Yeah, still don't like being called Ally," she retorted before lightening her gaze. Except by one person, she thought, relishing in that secret.

Bailey rolled her eyes and threw her arms around Alex's shoulders. "It's so good to see you! Lacey told us that you moved to England and I couldn't imagine it. It must be awful over there because look how pale you are!"

Alex chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll get some sun yet." She gazed up at the sky, feeling the sun warm her face. "I can feel it working already."

"Well, if it doesn't, come by here," Bailey offered. "I'll fix you up with a fantastic spray-tan. On the house, of course."

Lacey snorted. "Like your mother would ever let you do that."

"She wouldn't mind," Bailey protested, swinging back and forth from the door. "She loves Alex."

"She didn't love me so much when I accidentally broke a tanning machine when I was eight," Alex recalled.

"That was AGES ago!" Bailey reminded her. "And I think I was with you too then. At least, I remember a bunch of screaming aimed at me. She forgave you for that a long time ago."

"Wanna ride along with us?" Alex offered. "I haven't seen Bristol in forever. It's nice to see what's changed."

Bailey groaned. "God, I would love to, but I can't. Mama's at the mall today, shopping for Mickey's wedding."

Alex arched her eyebrows. "Mickey's getting married?" she cried. Back during her middle school days, she and Lacey had had huge crushes on Bailey's older brother. Alex still had old math notebooks with Mrs. Mickey Adkins scribbled on the inside covers.

Bailey nodded. "Mmm-hmm. To the oldest Vincent girl, Jessica. She's sweet and all, but I think he could do better. They're set to get hitched next month."

"Well, tell him I said congratulations," Alex told her.

"Don't worry, I will. Hey, how long are you staying? I turned twenty-one two months ago and I can legally buy you a drink at Blair's."

Alex smiled apologetically. "Not long. Probably only a day. Some friends of mine from England are with me and they won't be able to stand the heat much longer. Not to mention that they're getting married in a few days."

After a few more minutes of chatting with Bailey, Alex and Lacey drove off. They passed the rest of the strip mall and a Dairy Queen before coming into a small suburb. Alex had always been envious of this district because it was filled with many beautiful Victorian era homes that had been built when coal mining was still big in the town. Lacey pulled up in front of a brown three-story house, the window frames all painted dark blue. In the driveway was a peeling turquoise Jeep along with a young woman with long, curly red hair, wearing a white halter top, jean shorts, and white sneakers. She was talking with someone on her phone as they pulled up.

". . .are you sure she's back? Okay, just because you saw someone in Lacey's car with Lacey doesn't automatically mean that. . ." The girl's voice trailed off as she looked up and spotted the car and, more importantly, the person sitting in the passenger seat.

"OMG!" Emmy Rawlins gasped into the phone. "She IS back! Yes, she's right here in my driveway! Talk to you later!" Emmy hung up the phone and sprinted over to the car. "Alex Locke, what the hell is wrong with you, showing up without any warning?"

Alex laughed and got out to hug her friend. "Nice to see you too, Emmy."

"You too," Emmy said impatiently, "but REALLY! I've gotten three calls in the past five minutes with everyone saying you're back! Do you know how much my data plan is gonna go up because of this?"

Alex clutched her fist over her heart dramatically. "Oh, I am so sorry, I didn't think about that!" she cried, turning up her accent. "Can you EVER forgive me?"

Emmy lightly hit her arm. "Oh, stop," she laughed. "God, we've ALL missed you! Nothing fun's happened around here since you left!"

"I'm sure that's an exaggeration," Alex dismissed, jumping back into the passenger seat.

"No, it's the truth," Emmy insisted. She turned to look up at the house. "Oh, hold on. I bet Lola isn't aware you're back." Emmy marched across the lawn and picked up a pebble from the rock garden surrounding the house. With the same incredible aim she'd had on girls softball in high school, she threw the pebble at a window on the third floor. "HEY, LOLA!" she screamed up to the window once the pebble fell to the ground.

The window immediately opened with a BANG and out popped the head of Emmy's cousin Lola. Lola had long bleached blonde hair with a cotton candy pink streak in her bangs and was corpse white due to the amount of time she spent indoors, reading murder mysteries and attempting to write the Great American Novel. "WHAT?!" she screamed down, glaring at her cousin. "I was reading!"

"Get your nose out of your book for five seconds and look whose back in town!" Lola lifted her head from her cousin to look at Lacey and Alex, still sitting in the car by the driveway.

"Oh my gosh!" she cried. "Alex!"

"Hi, Lola!" Alex called up to the sixteen-year-old. Even though Lola had been significantly younger than the rest of the gang, she was still good friends with Emmy and Alex's friends and had always been invited to whatever party or scheme they cooked up.

"What are you doing back?" Lola cried, moving to sit on the window seat and sticking her head out further. She reached down and brought a cigarette up to her lips. Lola didn't like smoking, but she did like carrying around cigarettes and sticking them in her mouth to try and appear glamorous. "I thought you moved to Vegas!"

"She moved from there to England!" Emmy corrected her.

Lola made a face at her. "I can't keep track!" she complained. She looked back over at Alex. "Anyway, what are you in town for?"

"Visiting," Alex explained. "And, according to Emmy, people already seem to know I'm back."

At that moment, there came a distant chirping of a cell-phone and Lola looked back into her room. "Hold on a sec. That's my phone!" She disappeared from the window but was back a second later, flipping through what Alex assumed were text messages.

"You're right!" she called down. "Brett and Ross just texted me to ask if the rumors that you were back were true!" There was another chirp and Lola examined it long enough to add, "That was Bree. She said to tell you to get your ass down to the diner so she can see you."

Lacey laughed. "Tell them all to meet us at the diner in fifteen minutes!" she shouted.

"Make that twenty," Alex corrected. She leaned closer to Lacey and whispered, "I need to check something out." By the tone of her voice and because she knew her so well, Lacey knew exactly what Alex was talking about. She didn't think it was a good idea, but she knew that Alex wouldn't change her mind.

The two said good-bye to Emmy and Lola, who promised to meet them and many others at the diner, before zipping off. Lacey's speedometer sped up as they zipped past the rest of the Victorian's before eventually driving into the country. As they passed a field of violets, Lacey hesitantly asked, "Are you sure you want to go by the house? I haven't been out there since you left, but I imagine it's something awful."

Alex pursed her lips. "I have to see it," she said steadily. Lacey could tell that Alex was trying not to snap at her, so she shut her mouth and continued driving.

The two eventually passed a weathered road sign that Alex could name without even looking at it: Antebellum Road. They passed a small bungalow that belonged to their eighth-grade science teacher Mrs. Hardwick and a few large fields with horses grazing in them before reaching a very small suburb. Everyone in Bristol referred to this area as a suburb even though there were only three houses on one side of the road, each largely spread out and separated by tall hedges while the other side contained Sonny Siler's long neglected tobacco farm.

Lacey stopped and shut the car off at the end of the driveway to the second house. The house was a true mansion with three floors, topped off by an attic and gables. The house was made of brown brick on one side and white brick on the other, probably to compete with the neighbors at the time. Alex, however, always thought it tacky. The roof was gray slate and Alex could see a few missing pieces in some spots, which probably plagued Carla with leaks every time it rained. All the windows were lined with black shutters, some of them hanging precariously from their latches, threatening to topple to the ground at any moment. Alex bit her lip. It was exactly as she remembered.

Lining the house were several shrubs, beer cans littered among them. Alex sighed as she looked over at the once pretty white roses at one corner of the house, now wilted from too much beer and heat. She looked around at the several trees planted in the front yard, from the weeping willow just left of the driveway to the large oak tree on one side of the house that she taught herself to climb when she was nine and had used to sneak out of the house whenever she couldn't access her car.

Alex got out and cautiously approached the front porch. "You sure Carla is gone?" she called to Lacey.

Lacey nodded adamantly. "Positive. Wanda told Auntie that she pulled into the gas station two weeks ago cursing up a storm and forked out enough money to get her down to Nashville. Wanda asked how long she'd be gone and Carla spat a month."

Alex nodded and slowly went up the steps. While she knew Carla's word wasn't gold, she did know that her grandmother liked to be gone in the summer. Alex had spent many summers alone at the house, relishing in the freedom she had from late May to early September.

Alex approached the porch and shook her head at the many insect carcasses that decorated the wooden floor. Off a little ways was a rusted patio set with weather-beaten floral cushions. Alex turned to the door and hesitantly propped open the screen door with her hip. She tried the knob on the wooden door. "It's locked!" she announced.

"Do you still have your key?" Lacey asked.

"It's back in Leadworth," Alex explained. And Alex knew the exact spot it was in; in a shoebox at the bottom of her closet, where the light of day couldn't touch it.

Lacey sighed. "Well, there's not much use in trying to get in. Carla's probably trashed it anyways."

Alex nodded limply, her shoulders sinking. Though she knew it was the truth, she longed to get a look in the house and see just how much had changed since she left. There were a few things in there she had left behind when she moved to Vegas and she wanted them back. "Yeah," she agreed, walking down the porch and driveway over to the car.

Lacey pursed her lips, looking up at the house as Alex got back in. "You know, it's a damned shame," she suddenly announced as she put the car in reverse. "That house was always one of the prettiest ones here. It should be on the historical society list, if we even had a historical society. Marigold told me once that that house was built around the turn of the century."

"1902 to be exact," Alex revealed. She had done some digging one summer into the history of her house. "It was built by some Irishman named Artie McGregor. He was one of the first and few people to make big money mining here. He built it for his second wife who died in childbirth and shortly after his son turned one, he jumped out a third-floor window to his death." She grinned. "People say that at night, you can see him plunging to his death . . . right out my old bedroom window."

Lacey shivered. "Stop that, Alex!" she scolded. "That's creepy!"

Alex cackled. "Oh, Lacey, that story's an old wives tale. I lived in that house for thirteen years and never saw a ghost. Now, would you like to hear about the maid that's supposed to haunt the basement?"

"No!" Lacey shrieked, putting the car in drive and speeding off. "We used to spend weekends getting drunk in that house and playing Clue! I will not have you ruin it for me!"

"Okay," Alex said slowly, still grinning. She had also done some digging into Lacey's house and discovered something that she knew Marigold would never tell her jittery niece; that five people had died in that house from Spanish flu after World War I and that their ghosts were rumored to be running around the house, getting ready for a big cocktail party that had been scheduled before their deaths.

The two sped back to town and once they reached the car dealership, Lacey drove straight ahead, taking the left turn had she been at the crossroads. On this side were Kroger and the Wine Cellar along with a few other buildings. Alex spotted a bar that hadn't been there the last time she was here, along with the used bookstore she used to spend many weekends in, and a shoe store that sold awful shoes but was one of few stores that had air conditioning when Alex was a teenager.

Lacey took another left turn, going up a steady rise that held all these stores. Right along the rise, just a few meters away from the Wine Cellar parking lot, was Blondie's Diner. However, to the teens and young adults of Bristol, it was commonly referred to as 'the diner' as Blondie had passed away seven years ago and the property was now controlled by her niece Elena. The parking lot was already packed with several cars in various states, from a brand-new sedan to a paint chipped Toyota truck that had a taillight taped up.

Lacey pulled into a spot in the front, carefully left there by the occupants of the other cars. Once switching the ignition off, she turned to give Alex a wry look. "Ready to see the gang again?" she asked, already anticipating Alex's answer.

Alex smirked at her and flounced out of the car. "You know it!" she cackled. Fluffing up her hair, she waited until Lacey had gotten out before linking arms with her and heading inside.

A/N: So there's the first part of 'Bristol, KY Stop'! Not much happening yet other than some background information for Alex. Lol, she was quite the wild-child when she was younger, huh? :)

Roll Call:

Lacey Abernathy - Alyson Michalka

Some notes on reviews. . .

ElysiumPhoenix - You don't have to wait any longer! Here it is! :D

Gwilwillith- Here it is! :D

jesterlover - I love 'Amy's Choice' too! But you should be a bit nervous for Alex in that episode. . . *smiles mysteriously*

rycbar124 - Thank you! I know, the tension and chemistry between them is crazy! Don't worry, I promise that that moment will be epic...whenever it happens. :) And I agree. The Doctor does need someone to tell him it's not his fault. I haven't seen a companion tell him that yet, so I made Alex the first. Alex is pretty rational and tries to make judgment after she's seen everything there is to see, so she felt that Rosanna really was to blame for her race ending. And here's the first of the original chapters! Hope it doesn't disappoint! :)

TheUltimateGuest - LOL, the Doctor IS Alex's boy, isn't he?! Jack Harkness will have a particular word for his kind of behavior around Alex. Yes, I am officially announcing that Jack and the Torchwood team will meet 11, Alex, and the Ponds! :D

Thank you to ElysiumPhoenix, Gwilwillith, jesterlover, rycbar124, and TheUltimateGuest for reviewing and thank you to those who followed/favored this story. Please review and see you tomorrow!