The Mysterious Man From The Blue Box (A Doctor Who Fanfic)

Before I start the chapter, I would just like to thank all of you for your lovely comments and votes. Your support is what keeps me writing! :)

Second, I must admit that this is a rather long chapter. It was nearly impossible to split into two parts, so I'll just leave it as this.

(Also, excuse any poor spelling or grammar mistakes. I kind of rushed through this chapter. And excuse the poor indention of the paragraphs as well. I'm posting this from Safari on my iPod so the format is a little...sketchy.)

Enjoy!

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Chapter 6: 

Peace, Love, and Angels

I stepped out of the TARDIS and onto the surprising vacant sidewalk. The time machine had parked itself neatly in an alley nestled between two brick buildings. The Doctor followed right behind me, his hands in his trouser pockets and a grin playing upon his lips.

My eyes scanned the city fervently. What sort of alien activity could have brought us here? It looked just like the city I used to visit every summer, except forty-four years younger. Not only did it look younger, but more naïve. Protesters of the Vietnam War lined the streets, chanting and holding signs that said things such as "Make love, not war." It looked like something straight out of a peace-movement documentary film.

"Of all places to land...why did the TARDIS pick here?" I pondered aloud. I meant more to ask myself the question, not ask the Doctor. But he answered anyway.

"Well, it must've had good reasons. It doesn't simply bring me wherever it wants me to go. It brings me wherever it needs me to go." he explained to me. I watched him as his eyes darted across the street to the rooftop of an elaborate chapel. My gaze followed, but I saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"What is it, Doctor?" I asked him. He blinked a few times and shook his head.

"Nothing. At least not anymore," he mumbled. I could tell that he was lying, though. It didn't matter whether or not I could search through his mind like a filing cabinet. I could always tell when someone was lying. He had seen something. It might've only been for a split second, but he had definitely seen something.

"Right," I said slowly. I ran my fingers back through my hair. It was a nervous tick of mine. "So what do we do now? If the TARDIS brought us here on purpose, there most likely is something...out of the ordinary here."

"We're not doing anything. I'll be investigating the situation just as soon as I get you home." he said, turning on his heel and sauntering back into his blue box.

"You're taking me home? But we just got here!" I whined, following him back into the machine.

"Precisely. You're not meant to be here. You saw the city. Fantastic. You figured out something was wrong. Brilliant. And now I'm taking you home." the Doctor elaborated. I crossed my arms over my chest and raised and eyebrow.

"I'm not going anywhere. You need me here, whether you know it or not," I told him sternly. But then my voice lowered, becoming more dark and emotionless. "I'm not another silly human, Doctor. I can do things you wouldn't believe."

"I need you to go back to where you came from and I need you to be safe. Got that?" the Doctor said to me, for once not talking a mile a minute. He turned his back to me and flipped a switch on the console of the TARDIS.

"I'm not leaving. And I think your precious TARDIS will agree." I said, nodding toward the center platform. The Doctor ignored my comment and pushed what he thought would be the final button to start the machine. But it stood still, unwavering in its position. The Doctor took a step back and shoved his hands back in his pockets. He lifted his chin up a bit as he tried to determine what was wrong.

"Might just need a refuel. It'll feed on some possible Rift energy and it'll be set to go in no time," he said smoothly. He added a sniff to the end of his sentence, which I found quite strange. But to him it seemed like a normal thing to do in conversation. He lowered his head a tad and squinted at the center tube. "Well, 'no time' being an hour or so. Well, maybe more than an hour. Two hours tops."

I started to smile again. "So I've got two hours to convince you that I should stay?" I asked him, half teasingly but also half seriously.

"Looks like it," he nodded. "You lucked out, Miss Atkinson."

I leaned back against the railing of the platform and peered at him. "Why do you insist on calling me Miss Atkinson?"