Right Place; Wrong Time

 Author's Note: A shorter version of this story (less than 1200 words) is posted on another site for a contest I entered (they were specific with word count so I had to tweak and hack this short story from its original finished length). Anyway, this is the ORIGINAL finished version of Right Place; Wrong Time. I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think!

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Eliza was running late – again. And tonight of all nights too! Her half-sister will definitely kill her if she ruins her wedding rehearsal. She left work late after getting caught up on her latest project; if she nailed this presentation Eliza was looking at a very hefty bonus come Christmas time.

                She just parked her trusty seven-year-old SUV on the nearest empty parking slot closest to the church’s entrance and high-tailed it to the doors when out of the blue someone materialized right in front of her, causing Eliza to collide with him and they both landed on the ground.

                “I’m so sorry!” She apologized to the stranger once she regained her bearings. She thrust out her hands and pushed herself up. “Are you okay?” she looked down at the man who cushioned her fall. One thing stood out as soon as she looked at the man lying on the cold hard sidewalk underneath her. At first she thought her eyes were deceiving her, but after blinking a couple of times she was still seeing the same thing.

                “You’re not from here!” Eliza exclaimed then clamped her hands to her mouth in shock of her raised voice.

                The man Eliza collided with appeared very much winded and disoriented. It took him a while to focus his gaze on her. He gave her a lopsided grin that brightened his strong, chiseled features. He reminded Eliza of one of her numerous heroes from those romance novels she was fond of reading.

                “‘Allo,” he greeted, his voice hinted of a Scottish brogue that Eliza found sexy. Upon closer inspection Eliza thought he even looked like David Tennant, one of her most recent imaginary boyfriend and favourite hero to imagine when reading one of her romance novels, and with his accent he could very well be him. “I’m sorry, but what year is it?” The handsome stranger inquired while still sprawled flat on the ground.

                “Twenty-twelve,” Eliza answered and held out her hand for him to grab.

                “Thank you,” he smiled and accepted her hand. He gave her a slight pull then pushed himself upright. “My name’s Ethan, by the way,” he added once he was upright and facing her.

                “E-Eliza,” she stammered.

                “Nice to meet you, Eliza,” he pumped her hand he was still holding and gave her a cheeky grin. “Sorry to drop in on you like that,” he let go of her hand and lifted his arm to show off a brown leather wristband with some sort of futuristic device strapped to the middle of it. “Still trying to get used to this,” he boasted and tapped on the device strapped to his wrist.

                Eliza gave him a queer look. Clearly she doesn’t understand what he was talking about, but she was a clever girl with an overactive imagination. She was slowly putting two and two together and coming up with a big freaking migraine. She took a step back and regarded the man clad in Victorian attire. He spoke with an accent befitting that era and yet she got this vibe off him that even back in Victorian London he was as out of place as he was here and now.

                “From when are you?” she asked.

                “From the future,” was his nonchalant reply. He was busy checking something on the device on his wrist and from the worried look on his face Eliza got this feeling that something was wrong.