Well, sophomore year of university starts Monday. I'll try to keep a regular update schedule but... if I miss a week or I'm late, cut me a bit of slack, yeah?

One of his final appointments went longer than he'd expected and by the time he stopped by his locker, he was over half an hour late. He left the locker room at a dead run and just like cars would veer for an oncoming ambulance, people got out of the way for the running doctor. They probably thought there was some emergency he was hurrying to get to and the thought made him chuckle to himself.

John slowed to a walk as he neared the playroom, pausing outside to catch his breath, and brushed his hair away from his forehead. He headed into the room with an apology already forming on his lips…and stopped dead.

Elliot was at his usual table, doodling away, but there was someone else sitting with him. Elliot raised his head and smiled at John. Violet Lewis turned and smiled as well.

John felt the blood rushing to his face but he recovered quickly, crossing the room in a few strides. He sat down in his usual chair across from Elliot. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized.

Elliot shrugged like it was no big deal. John was getting very good at reading his body language. He'd been around him long enough that he was starting to understand what the different smiles and frowns meant, how one type of nod could mean one thing and another meant something entirely different. Everything from the way he stared at something to how hard he gripped a pencil had meaning. It was just a matter of translation.

"It's fine," Violet answered.

"Keeping him entertained while I was running late?"

"I think he keeps himself entertained just fine. But I knew you were supposed to be here today and I asked him if he knew where you were," she admitted. "He invited me to have a seat and started showing me some of his drawings. He's quite talented."

"That he is." John agreed.

Elliot smiled but then pointed at John's notebook hopefully.

John sighed. For the past week he'd told Elliot there'd been no new dreams. This was a lie. There had been dreams. Well, just one dream repeated every time he slept. It was…terrifying and it always left him shaking and breathing heavy whenever he was able to wrench himself free. He wasn't sure how long this was going to last so he figured he might as well get it over with and tell Elliot. Although, with Violet here, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

He noticed Violet peering at him curiously and realized she didn't have any idea what was in the notebook. He rather lucked out with Elliot and knew not everyone would be as accepting of his bizarre dreams. Well, he supposed he had to tell her now.

"I, ah, I have these dreams." He stopped and glanced at her.

Violet nodded encouragingly.

"They're quite strange. Um." No, he was definitely not flustered. Not at all.

Elliot rolled his eyes impatiently. Get on with it.

"In them I'm an alien called the Doctor and I…I travel all across space." He looked at her carefully, gauging her reaction. "And through time."

Violet's eyebrows shot towards her hairline. She looked down at the journal. "A dream journal," she realized.

"I suppose so, yes."

"And they're all the same?"

John shook his head. "Well, yes and no. They happen all through space and time; so many different people and places and monsters. And there are all sorts of people travelling with him at different points but I'm always the Doctor. That never changes."

"Well, that's weird," she said matter-of-factly and his heart sank. She must've noticed his expression because she smiled at him reassuringly. "But a good kind of weird. …Can I see?"

"Hmm? Oh." He looked down at the notebook in his hands. "I suppose so." He handed it over and she opened it, flipping through the pages. "It's all out of order and I—I'm not a very good artist. Elliot makes me look like a toddler with crayons. Um."

Her eyes flitted across the pages, too quickly to be actually reading. She paused to look at each little drawing before flipping to the next page. There was something about the amazed curiosity on her face that made his heart beat a little faster. She thought it was weird but she wasn't running away. She was actually interested. That was good, right?

He noticed Elliot grinning wickedly and John frowned. Hang on a tick. Why exactly why had he invited Violet to sit with him? Not for the first time he wondered if Elliot actually could read minds. It was impossible, of course, but then, so were his dreams. Elliot certainly didn't act like a mind reader.

Like you'd know what a mind reader acts like, he thought.

Elliot saw him looking and the smile disappeared, though it seemed ready to reemerge any second.

"Looks like a salt shaker."

"Pardon?" John leaned over and she tapped the picture in question. "Ah. That's a Dalek. The Doctor's mortal enemies."

Violet quirked an eyebrow and looked down at the metal creature. "Not much of a mortal enemy if you ask me."

Elliot shuddered and John shook his head. "That's just the shell. Inside is a creature born to hate…whose only thought is to destroy everything and everyone that isn't a Daek too." He frowned slightly, wondering where that'd come from but knowing it to be true.

He pointed to the whisk-like appendage protruding from the base. "That shoots out a laser that kills whatever it comes in contact with. Painfully. Death by extermination, not the way you want to go. And this other one has all sorts of functions and it's the closest thing they have to a hand. No less deadly."

That sobered her a bit. "I see."

"But they're all dead." he added. "Most of them were killed in war—don't know much about that war, though, I'm afraid. Just that it was bad. There've been a few that escaped that have popped up but they were dealt with."

Elliot rapped on the table with his knuckles to get their attention and held up the picture of a Dalek he'd drawn last week. Beside it, surrounded by a jagged speech bubble, was the word EXTERMINATE. He tapped just below his eye then pointed to the eyestalk.

"That's how it sees?"

Elliot nodded.

"But it's not all monsters, you know." John interrupted. Violet looked up at him. "There's fun, too. And running. Lots of running. He saves worlds, the Doctor. Entire galaxies are safe because of him."

"He sounds like quite the hero."

John shrugged. "Madman, more like."

Elliot tapped the table again then pointed to the notebook insistently.

"I think he wants you to read to him now." Violet handed the notebook back to John and started to get up.

"You don't have to go." He blurted out. "You can stay and listen."

This newest dream wasn't…exactly something he was proud of but if she stayed he'd read one of the older ones. Elliot could deal with it for now.

Violet shook her head. "No, I can't. I need to get to my afternoon rounds. Maybe later?" she asked hopefully.

"Okay." He nodded. She beamed, waved goodbye, and walked out of the room.

John watched her go. He heard a quiet, breathy sound, like a snigger. He heard it again. With a start, he realized Elliot was actually laughing.

"You planned that." he accused.

The laughter subsided and Elliot's mischievous expression morphed into one of pure innocence.

John pointed at him sternly. "You're not foolin' me with that. I work with children for a living, you know."

Elliot grinned, glancing the way Violet had gone, and then wagged his eyebrows.

"Oh, playing matchmaker, are we? Right, well if I catch you pointing heart-shaped arrows at anyone, you're gonna get it."

The boy sniggered again.

John shook his head at him although he was fighting laughter himself. Then with a sigh, he sobered. "Was it really that obvious?" Elliot nodded. "I suppose it's pretty sad if I have to have a ten year old take charge of my romantic life."

He scrawled something in his notepad and held it up. She likes you too.

John arched one eyebrow. "And you know that for a fact, eh?"

Yes. Plus it's kind of obvius.

"You spelt obvious wrong."

Elliot rolled his eyes exasperatedly. Whatever Casanova.

"I'm hardly Casa—wait! How do you know who Casanova is?!" John sputtered. "You're ten!"

Elliot grinned broadly, showing off all his front teeth. Then he wrote: Read now please.

John sighed. "Out of the frying pan and into the fire," he grumbled as he flipped to the newest entry in his journal. Unlike the others, this one had no accompanying pictures or added comments or notes. He hadn't felt like it at the time.

"This one isn't…it isn't like the others. It's missing a lot and it's…it's incomplete. And it's sad." That was an understatement. He'd woken up in quite a state first time. He hadn't cried like that since his mother passed away.

John steeled himself then began to read. "'There are these creatures chasing us. They're telepathic parasites. When they're in a familial unit of four like this lot, they're called a 'Family of Blood.' Normally escaping into the Time Vortex would be enough to shake them but this Family was able to chase us through time with stolen technology.

"They're after me because I'm a Time Lord. If they possess me they'll have enough power to live forever. Then they'll travel across the stars causing chaos like few can imagine. Civilizations will fall. Planets will burn. Men, women, and children will be slaughtered without distinction. The last time it took an alliance between the Time Lords and another powerful, ancient race. That race is gone and I am the last Time Lord. If they take me there won't be anyone left who can stop them.

"We ran from them once and for a while it seemed to have worked but they found us again while we were in Cardiff, Wales. So many people died. Rose blames herself because she was the one who told us to run. There were…other options but she didn't even want to consider them. I've tried to tell her it's not her fault but I don't think she's listening. But she's told me to do it. It's our only option, like she said. But I don't want to leave her…'" He trailed off.

"I don't know what it is that he did." He added for Elliot's sake. "Something to do with a watch, I couldn't understand everything, it happened so fast.

"'I knew it was going to hurt so I sent Rose away. I didn't want her to see. But she hasn't come back. She always comes back, I don' understand why she hasn't this time. I know how much it hurts to watch someone you love in pain. I was trying to protect her. But she's just gone. And now I'm alone."

John swallowed and closed his journal.

Elliot blinked and then scowled in disappointment.

"I told you it was incomplete," he said quietly. "But it's always the same, every single night for the past week. It never changes at all. Just running, a bit of talking, Rose crying, and pain and…darkness. And then Rose is gone and it hurts again."

He stopped talking, too upset to continue. He'd felt the Doctor's loneliness and despair as if it were his own. The Doctor had fully expected Rose to come back and so, too, had John. He still was. Just thinking about it again made his heart clench in fear. Where was she? Had something happened to her? Was she dead or merely detained? What if she never came back?

But now Elliot was looking at him with a mixture of anger and confusion. Suddenly he felt judged. The kid had never once seemed to think he was mad or given any sign that he thought he was weird. The good, the bad, and just plain bizarre—he'd accepted the strange products of John's mind and used it to fuel his own creativity. Now it seemed as if he was judging him.

Was he right to? John was grieving for the Doctor's loss as if it were his own. Except…

Except it wasn't. John was real. The Doctor was just a fictitious character, one of millions. His life wasn't real. His pain wasn't real because it never happened.

Well, that settled it. He'd let the dreams run their course and he'd continue to write them down but only for Elliot's sake. He'd no longer get invested in them. And then once they stopped occurring he'd put them into the journal and let Elliot work his magic. Then he'd move on. The Doctor had his Rose.

John had a certain blonde doctor. Maybe.

He shook his head to clear it. "Well, I suppose that's it. I've got to get back to work. I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe I'll finally have something new to write."

He felt Elliot's eyes on him as he fled from the room.

The next day John arrived on time and Violet was standing next to Elliot's table. He barely faltered this time, taking her presence in stride, and smiled at them both. "Hello."

"Good afternoon." Violet smiled at him. "It's later and I have the next half an hour or so free and Elliot already said I could stay. If you don't mind, that is."

John realized what she was asking and grinned right back at her. "No, I don't mind! Great!"

It was as if telling Elliot had been the catalyst for triggering new dreams. It was unusual but then it was the first time he hadn't gone to Elliot immediately with a new dream since he began sharing. Last night's dream was one of the few he'd had that didn't feature Rose as the Doctor's travelling companion and he got the feeling that this was one of those that predated her, not one that occurred after she hadn't come back.

The two of them took their seats and John slid a sly glance in Elliot's direction. The would-be Cupid winked.

"Alright, let's see what you drew."

Elliot shook his head and waved him off.

"Don't be shy," Violet said.

Elliot gave her an annoyed look that clearly said I'm not.

"Do you…not want to show her?" John tried.

He sighed, rolling his eyes, and flipped open the sketchbook to a blank page and held it up. John looked at it for a few seconds. "I don't see anything. Did you…not draw anything?"

He shook his head.

"Oh. Well, that's new. …I suppose there really wasn't much to draw, was there?"

He shook his head again, sadly this time. John wondered if he'd been wrong yesterday. Maybe he hadn't been silently ridiculing John and he'd just been upset at the new development or that he didn't get a very interesting story after waiting for a week. That still wouldn't change his mind, though. John had thought about it more throughout the evening and decided it really would be best for him to make an effort to separate dreams from reality.

"We're in luck, Elliot. I've got a new one today." And about time, too, he added silently. "It's…well it's a strange one. The Doctor's got three traveling with him and one of them is a Time Lord! Or, well, Time Lady I should say."

Elliot's jaw dropped. The significance was lost on Violet who didn't even know what a Time Lord was, much less that the Doctor was the last one (at least by the time he began traveling with Rose).

"Susan, he calls her, though I don't think that's her real name. Not very Time Lord-y, Susan, you know? Oh, and this is the best bit: she calls him Grandfather." He grinned. Elliot's brow furrowed. "Don't look like that, Elliot. He's over nine hundred and you think he never got married or anything?"

That didn't seem to help him. John bit back a sigh. This was one of those times when he wished he would talk. He had no idea what was throwing the kid off. Maybe he didn't know where babies came from? Nah. No way he knew who Casanova was but hadn't gotten wind of the birds and the bees yet.

Violet listened patiently as John told of their encounter with the Aztecs and how one of the human companions had been mistaken for a goddess. His eyes kept flicking up to her face as he read and he wouldn't deny that he enjoyed the bright curiosity in her eyes. She interrupted him twice to ask questions but other than that she remained silent during the whole thing. Elliot started sketching midway through and by the time John was explaining how the four of them escaped back into the tomb where the TARDIS was waiting, he was finished with his drawing.

Elliot turned his sketchpad around, smiling proudly. It was a woman's slender arm with a gleaming snake-shaped bracer wrapped around it.

Violet lifted a single, delicate eyebrow. "That's…very good. Not quite how I imagined, but—"

"But that's how it looked." John informed her. "In my dream, I mean. All those drawings you saw—they're are exact in every detail."

"Get out."

He grinned jovially. "I'm serious. I don't even help him. He just does it."

"How does he—" She looked down at boy. "How did you do that?"

Elliot just smiled mysteriously and shrugged his shoulders. She stared at him strangely for a long minute then, shaking her head quickly, she smiled once again. "Can I see some more? I've still got—" she glanced at the clock "—a good ten minutes before I have to leave."

He nodded and flipped the pages back until he reached the first one he'd drawn on the first day: the blue box.

"That's the Doctor's ship," John said.

"Doesn't look like much."

"It's bigger on the inside."

"How is that possible?"

"Something about different dimensions, I think. I've never dreamed all the details," he admitted. "I just know it's bigger on the inside and the control room and console look different sometimes. And you know what else?" He paused for effect. "Its entirely sentient and telepathic. Can't communicate with words, just images and colors and emotions. Sometimes the lights will flicker or the hum of the systems will fluctuate. It's got a whole vocabulary made with that."

She leaned forward, squinting. "Does that say…'Police Public Call Box' on the top?"

"Ah, that it does."

"What's—?"

"Back in the 1950's, before mobile phones were invented, Britain used to have Police Boxes on the street corners . If you needed help you could phone for help in there. Or if they arrested somebody they'd lock 'em inside until a car came to pick 'em up. I'm…not sure why his ship looks like that but it ever changes."

Elliot pulled the sketchpad back and flipped through the pages before turning it back around.

"Oh, that's K-9, the Doctor's robot dog. He's only been around once so far but he's very smart—he's basically a supercomputer—and his voice is adorable."

Violet lifted her head in surprise. "It speaks?"

"'Course he does! What'd you expect? Barking? Not much use that'd be."

She looked at him like she thought he was half mad but laughed anyway.

Elliot showed off a few of the villains—Cybermen, a Slitheen, a Zygon—and John explained each of them as best he could. Then the sketch of Captain Jack ("Oooh, He's handsome.") followed by the sketch of Rose, smirking up at them like she knew the answers to all their questions.

John sighed inwardly, cursing his sleeping mind for making Rose so pretty and Elliot for showing her to Violet.

"Oh," she murmured. Violet looked at the drawing of Rose for a long time, her eyes taking in all the little details. "For all the monsters and aliens you come up with, you can imagine some very pretty girls."

He shrugged, resisting the urge to rub the back of his neck.

Elliot tapped the flower in her hair. Violet peered closer. "Is that a rose?"

"Her name's Rose," John explained. "She's one of the Doctor's companions but she's appeared more often than the others. Cheeky, that one."

Elliot turned the page. The Bad Wolf stared at them dangerously from the doorway of the box, light building in her outstretched hand, ready to annihilate the Daleks for their crimes. For threatening her Doctor and killing the Captain.

"Is she an alien?"

"No. She's very human. Except here she's the Bad Wolf."

"'The Bad Wolf'?" Violet smirked. "You know there's a bar down on 9th called that?"

"Really?"

"You didn't know?"

"I'm still new here. I guess I must've seen it once and forgotten." Though John wasn't too sure about that. The name Bad Wolf just seemed too right for her. More than just something left floating around in his subconscious from his walk around town when he first arrived.

"So what's the Bad Wolf?"

"An entire army of Daleks were secretly controlling Earth. The Doctor, Rose, and Captain Jack got pulled into the mess to help defeat them. But it wasn't looking good. There was a way to beat the Daleks but doing so would wipe out the Earth as well. The Doctor knew they would probably die as well so he sent her away in the ship to protect her. But she wouldn't have it. She ripped open the ship and looked into its heart, joined minds with it, and swallowed the Time Vortex and all its power. Together they became the Bad Wolf.

"All the power of time in the hands of a twenty-year-old shop girl from the East End." He shook his head. "She killed them all. The entire Dalek fleet turned to dust in seconds. But the human mind isn't designed to hold that kind of power. It should've killed her but the Doctor took it from her and healed her at the cost of one of his lives."

Elliot rapped lightly on the table to get their attention. He'd turned to a new drawing when they weren't paying attention. It was the one of three Daleks staring at the Bad Wolf. He turned the page again and it showed the same Daleks being turned to dust.

"And she did that?" Violet asked.

"Oh yes."

"Wow," she murmured. Violet, for her part, was awed and somewhat intimidated. For this Rose girl to have been prepared to give her life and absorb that kind of power for the Doctor, she must have loved him dearly. She wondered if that was a reflection of something John secretly desired—a woman who'd give her life to save him—or was just something his imagination had come up with.

Elliot turned to another drawing he'd done of Rose. This time she was wearing a tank top and fuzzy pants, her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail, while lounging on a very squishy couch with a book propped up on her legs. She couldn't be one hundred percent sure but she thought the title might've been Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. She nearly laughed. What if that turned out to be one of the actual book titles? That would just beat all.

"She keeps coming back," John mused to himself.

Violet looked away from the imaginary girl. "Pardon?"

"Rose, she always comes back. He warns her it's too dangerous but she doesn't leave. She gets lost, she finds him again—or he finds her. He sends her away to keep her safe and she comes right back each and every time to face the danger with him. Except…for this last time. They were being chased by these creatures, these um—these hunters and he sent her away again for some reason—I don't know why, the dream was just a bunch of fragments and sounds—but she hasn't come back. He's all alone now and he's waiting for her but she's…."

He trailed off sounding pained and somewhat lost. It occurred to Violet that maybe John felt an acute attachment to these characters of his since he seemed to experience it all as if he were having the adventures and feeling these emotions. Violet looked down at the girl on the paper again and felt a pang of anger. She obviously loved the Doctor very much if she would go through all that to save him. So why had she suddenly left him?

She shook her head quickly. Just a story. No need to get overly emotional about it.

Still, she couldn't help but wish Rose would find her way back to the Doctor, if only to put John's mind at ease.

Elliot showed her one last drawing, this time it was the Doctor's special tool: the sonic screwdriver. According to John, the little thingamabob was capable of emitting thousands of different sonic frequencies that each had a specific function. From opening locks to making ATMs dispense cash without a card.

She started to say goodbye to them both but John asked if he could walk with her for a little bit.

Violet smiled, her cheeks warming. "Sure."

John told Elliot goodbye and if the kid was upset that he was leaving early, he didn't show it. But, then, Elliot didn't show much emotion anyway. In fact, the only other person besides John who'd ever been able to get any real response from him had been Macy Clearwater. The last time the little girl had visited him, Violet swore she'd seen Elliot laugh but hadn't been close enough to hear to confirm. Even if it hadn't been a laugh, the look of delight on his face was a miracle in itself. She hadn't seen him laugh with John yet but the amount of smiles certainly made up for it.

She wasn't going to say it out loud in case it jinxed it, but Violet couldn't help but wonder if John would be the one to get Elliot past whatever issues he was going through (besides leukemia) that had caused this perpetual silence of his.

She and John walked side by side down the hall in silence for a few moments. "You're very good with him," she said.

"Well…" He smiled the tiniest bit. "I understand him."

"How did you do it? He's not my patient but Jasmine used to talk about him in the staff room. Apparently he used to be a chatterbox but when he arrived this time he was as silent as the grave. Nothing anyone said or did got through to him until you came along."

"Maybe it's because I did something none of you did. I listened to him." He looked at her and she was surprised at the amount of emotion gleaming in those brown irises. "It was all there, waiting for someone to notice. The silence alone told spoke volumes. The first time I asked about him, Jasmine told me he used to talk everyone's ears off, so I wondered why such a talkative little boy would suddenly be mute. Answer me this, Miss Lewis: why do we talk?"

"To communicate."

They were at the men's locker room now. Instead of going inside, he turned to face her fully. He nodded encouragingly. "Keep going."

Violet looked at the ceiling as she considered the question. "We talk to share our opinions with people, to make ourselves understood, or to explain things."

"And what do we expect to happen when we speak to people?"

"We…expect them to listen to us."

"Exactly. And if no one was going to listen to you, would you bother speaking?"

She said nothing.

"Even if it isn't in your nature to allow yourself to be ignored, wouldn't you eventually realize the futility and give up? Fall silent?"

Realization dawned on her and she widened her eyes.

He could tell she understood. Nodding, he closed his eyes briefly. "He felt ignored by someone. His parents, I think. In fact I'm almost certain. I've seen them interact and they don't seem very pleased with his silence. And he clams up when they're around."

"What do you mean?"

"Elliot is very expressive."

She frowned skeptically.

"He is! He speaks with his body. Everything from the way he looks at you to how tight he holds the pencils when he's drawing means something. It's just a matter of understanding it."

"And you do."

"Well, I don't mean to boast, but…" He glanced at his watch. "Oh, excuse me for one moment."

He opened the door to the locker room and disappeared inside. Violet leaned against the wall to wait. She didn't have long before she was due at Robert Carter's appointment but she was willing to make them wait a few minutes if it meant she got to hear John's theories on Elliot. And spend a few more minutes with him.

John reemerged a minute later without his notebook and smiled. Violet returned the smile and set off in the direction of the clinic. John followed. "Where were we?"

"You said he clams up?"

"Oh, right. Yes, he does. Whenever they try talking to him he's very stiff, with shoulders hunched, sometimes his head's tucked. He hardly looks at them and when he does he usually only stares. They bought him that little notepad he has so he can write out what he wants to say but he never uses it with them."

"Does he for you?" she asked. "He did for me yesterday. Once."

"Yes. If it's something he really wants me to know but can't convey with gestures. He does it for Macy, too. But his parents: no. He doesn't even try to communicate with them. His posture is always very drawn in, reserved, or, hell, maybe even defeated. Like he's given up completely. So, yes, I am fairly certain they have a lot to do with their son being mute."

Violet frowned at the dark thoughts suddenly swirling through her mind. "Do you think they might've abused him?"

John was quiet for a minute. He looked straight ahead, eyes distant. The longer he remained silent the more her anxiety grew. Oh, she hoped that wasn't it. She really hoped. But if so, the line to give them hell started behind her.

John sighed and shook his head. "Not in the way you're thinking. They don't seem like the abusive type and from what I've seen they're not actually cruel to him. They're just your typical worried cancer patient parents. But they do seem to be disregarding his mental health problems. This kind of muteness is usually the result of some form of trauma or depression. For Elliot, I think it's the latter based on the way he reacted to Macy's departure.

"His parents care for him but they're insensitive to his mental needs. I guess they're too focused on the physical ones. They tell him to talk instead of taking the time to realize that his silence is actually him screaming a thousand words at the top of his lungs. He stopped talking because he felt he wasn't being listened to. Why? What was he saying that they didn't seem to hear? What were they saying? What did they do? What should they have done? But they don't understand him."

Violet stared at him in amazement. "You—I—how? How can you know all of this?"

"Easy: I observed them. Everything I told you I've deduced simply by watching, asking around, and applying logic. When I realized what was going on, I also realized how completely obvious it was."

"Not to the rest of us."

"Like I said."

"Well, he's not even my patient, nor is he Jasmine's only patient. She can't devote that kind of time to him. I'm surprised you could."

"I didn't need to. Everything I've learned about Elliot happened during the times I've read to him and the other times I saw him or his parents while I was doing rounds."

They'd arrived at her clinic now. She turned to face him and searched his face carefully. She didn't understand how he could've deduced all that in such a short time but he seemed completely confident. He must be very smart. Top of his class probably.

"You should tell all of this to Jasmine," she said. "Maybe she can do something about it.

"I should, shouldn't I?" He frowned ever so slightly. "I'm just worried something will happen to break Elliot's trust in me."

"I don't think that's possible. You're a great guy."

John's entire face lit up and he stood a little straighter. Violet smiled to herself. "Violet…you know the town better than me. That Olive Garden on St. Charles Ave—is it any good?"

Oh my God. Was he asking her on a date? "I don't know," she admitted, trying to ignore the sudden fluttering in her stomach. "I've never eaten there."

"Well, then, would you like to find out? Say, around seven?"

Violet beamed. "I'd love to."

"Should we meet there? I don't have a car so I use the bus system to get around. I'm not a very good driver, anyway."

"Well how about I pick you up, instead?"

"That doesn't seem proper." But he was smiling.

"Yeah, well, who cares? It's not like we've got to worry about impressing my parents."

John laughed and plucked a piece of paper and a pen off the nearby reception desk and scrawled his address down. He handed it to her and she tucked it carefully into her pocket. "Well, then, John Smith, I'll see you at seven."

"It's a date."

So absorbed in each other, neither of them noticed the British medical student standing a few feet away listening to every word.

*stands between you all and Violet* I politely request you all be mature about this. I understand the feelings of extreme resentment towards anyone "interfering" with the DoctorxRose ship, but c'mon, have a little faith. I know what I'm doing. ;)

And in other news... 905 REVIEWS SDFGHJKJHGFDSASDFGHJKLKJHGFDSDFGHJKL JESUS! AND WE'VE STILL GOT LIKE... 1/3 LEFT OF THIS STORY?