Bitter Sweet
Meet Your Match
It stopped…
…and so did he. He looked at the silent time rotor in amazement, and stepped away from the console, hands in the air.
“That. Was. Not. Me,” he said slowly. The strange girl on the shelf opened her eyes and lifted her head slowly.
“It was me,” she explained in a quiet voice. His head snapped upwards, towards the voice,
“What the…? How on…? Who are…? Why…?” He looked in bewilderment at the teenager above him.
She gave him a watery smile,
“Normally people finish one question before starting another…”
“Well, yeah,” he smiled at her, in spite of himself, “I suppose they do.” The girl slid her legs off the shelf and looked in vain for an easy way down. He leapt round the console and offered her his hand. She took it gratefully and dropped onto the floor.
“Thanks,” her voice was barely audible.
She looked at the man in front of her and smiled again,
“I can’t believe it’s you,” she said quietly, “I thought I might never see you again… Doctor.” At the sound of his name The Doctor turned back towards her, but was only in time to watch her crash down against the metal grids on the floor.
“Oh, heck!” he clamoured, as he dropped to the ground and turned the girl over onto her back. He quickly felt over her nose and mouth to check she was breathing, and when he realised she had simply fainted, he stood up in confusion. He hovered above her for 5 minutes before deciding what to do with the strange teenager that had suddenly materialised in his ship, and then promptly – if inconveniently – passed out.
With reasonable effort he lifted the girl off the ground and carried her over to the TARDIS chair. He laid down her headfirst and let her feet drape over the edge of the seat. Then he picked up his still crumpled jacket and folded it into a rough pillow, before lifting up her head carefully and placing the head-rest underneath her. He would have got her a blanket, but he didn’t want to leave her… just in case she did turn out to be a nutter. Although, the more The Doctor looked at her, the more he couldn’t believe she would actually turn out to be nut-case. He didn’t know why – I mean you can never tell these days – but, there was just something…
He leant against the TARDIS console, watching her, with a small, paternal smile playing across his lips. He registered her features, trying to think where he might know her from. She knew him, knew his name, and seemed to suggest that they’d met before. He couldn’t believe he’d forget a face like the one before him though. The stranger had dark brown, chestnut hair… long and loose, small strands swept across her face. There was a long, sweeping fringe and a clear, gold-tanned complexion. Full, red lips, long, black lashes with a slim, petite frame.
The Doctor’s eyes scanned over her clothes, hoping they would give him some clues as to her origin. But they gave hardly anything away. The girl’s black combats and trainers looked like Earth, 21st century maybe – but her cream jumper looked oddly similar to ones he’d seen worn by the Amalthean Deep-Space Travellers that time he'd visited in the 51st century. He looked at her clothes again in confusion, it was all too strange… and she couldn’t be more than 16 or 17. Then again appearances could be deceptive, him of all people should know that. She looked like a 16 year old human girl, just like Rose, in an odd way, but her clothes told another story. But then again, he looked like a 30-odd year old human; and he had 2 hearts in his chest cavity…
His musings were cut short, as the girl stirred on the chair. Her eyes flickered open – and he saw once more the deep, chestnut colour from her hair open up. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, then smiled apologetically.
“I’m sorry. About the whole… fainting thing, you know,” she paused for breath, “I mean, I’m not normally the fainting type. Really, I’m not… Well, it’s just, I had a bumpy ride, I guess. Steering the TARDIS on my own after everything else...” The Doctor listened, incredulous, as the girl kept talking,
“I’m sorry if I scared you, as well. I didn’t mean to. I suppose it must be pretty scary – and a bit weird… to have a teenager, just materialise on your impenetrable ship. And I do know what you’re thinking… I’m not a nutter. I’m not mad or anything. Promise. I just; I guess I talk a lot when I’m nervous. A whole lot. Mainly about rubbish, to be honest. I mean; I don’t talk about rubbish – I just talk rubbish… And…” she stopped and looked up at him, “I’m doing it now aren’t I?”
The time-traveller looked on, slightly amused at this tirade of information. He smiled at the young girl in front of him,
“What?” he asked her, “Talking rubbish?” He sat down beside her on the seat, while she looked at him, hopefully,
“Yep!” She sighed with embarrassment. “Why don’t you tell me something useful? Who are you? Actually, what are you? And how did you get on my ‘impenetrable’ ship?”
“Oh, well…” she smiled at him and he smiled, wanly, back, “My name is Maria Dulcea.” The smile on The Doctor froze, as he remembered his dream…
Her breath… her lips. The girl… dark hair.
…and so did he. He looked at the silent time rotor in amazement, and stepped away from the console, hands in the air.
“That. Was. Not. Me,” he said slowly. The strange girl on the shelf opened her eyes and lifted her head slowly.
“It was me,” she explained in a quiet voice. His head snapped upwards, towards the voice,
“What the…? How on…? Who are…? Why…?” He looked in bewilderment at the teenager above him.
She gave him a watery smile,
“Normally people finish one question before starting another…”
“Well, yeah,” he smiled at her, in spite of himself, “I suppose they do.” The girl slid her legs off the shelf and looked in vain for an easy way down. He leapt round the console and offered her his hand. She took it gratefully and dropped onto the floor.
“Thanks,” her voice was barely audible.
She looked at the man in front of her and smiled again,
“I can’t believe it’s you,” she said quietly, “I thought I might never see you again… Doctor.” At the sound of his name The Doctor turned back towards her, but was only in time to watch her crash down against the metal grids on the floor.
“Oh, heck!” he clamoured, as he dropped to the ground and turned the girl over onto her back. He quickly felt over her nose and mouth to check she was breathing, and when he realised she had simply fainted, he stood up in confusion. He hovered above her for 5 minutes before deciding what to do with the strange teenager that had suddenly materialised in his ship, and then promptly – if inconveniently – passed out.
With reasonable effort he lifted the girl off the ground and carried her over to the TARDIS chair. He laid down her headfirst and let her feet drape over the edge of the seat. Then he picked up his still crumpled jacket and folded it into a rough pillow, before lifting up her head carefully and placing the head-rest underneath her. He would have got her a blanket, but he didn’t want to leave her… just in case she did turn out to be a nutter. Although, the more The Doctor looked at her, the more he couldn’t believe she would actually turn out to be nut-case. He didn’t know why – I mean you can never tell these days – but, there was just something…
He leant against the TARDIS console, watching her, with a small, paternal smile playing across his lips. He registered her features, trying to think where he might know her from. She knew him, knew his name, and seemed to suggest that they’d met before. He couldn’t believe he’d forget a face like the one before him though. The stranger had dark brown, chestnut hair… long and loose, small strands swept across her face. There was a long, sweeping fringe and a clear, gold-tanned complexion. Full, red lips, long, black lashes with a slim, petite frame.
The Doctor’s eyes scanned over her clothes, hoping they would give him some clues as to her origin. But they gave hardly anything away. The girl’s black combats and trainers looked like Earth, 21st century maybe – but her cream jumper looked oddly similar to ones he’d seen worn by the Amalthean Deep-Space Travellers that time he'd visited in the 51st century. He looked at her clothes again in confusion, it was all too strange… and she couldn’t be more than 16 or 17. Then again appearances could be deceptive, him of all people should know that. She looked like a 16 year old human girl, just like Rose, in an odd way, but her clothes told another story. But then again, he looked like a 30-odd year old human; and he had 2 hearts in his chest cavity…
His musings were cut short, as the girl stirred on the chair. Her eyes flickered open – and he saw once more the deep, chestnut colour from her hair open up. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, then smiled apologetically.
“I’m sorry. About the whole… fainting thing, you know,” she paused for breath, “I mean, I’m not normally the fainting type. Really, I’m not… Well, it’s just, I had a bumpy ride, I guess. Steering the TARDIS on my own after everything else...” The Doctor listened, incredulous, as the girl kept talking,
“I’m sorry if I scared you, as well. I didn’t mean to. I suppose it must be pretty scary – and a bit weird… to have a teenager, just materialise on your impenetrable ship. And I do know what you’re thinking… I’m not a nutter. I’m not mad or anything. Promise. I just; I guess I talk a lot when I’m nervous. A whole lot. Mainly about rubbish, to be honest. I mean; I don’t talk about rubbish – I just talk rubbish… And…” she stopped and looked up at him, “I’m doing it now aren’t I?”
The time-traveller looked on, slightly amused at this tirade of information. He smiled at the young girl in front of him,
“What?” he asked her, “Talking rubbish?” He sat down beside her on the seat, while she looked at him, hopefully,
“Yep!” She sighed with embarrassment. “Why don’t you tell me something useful? Who are you? Actually, what are you? And how did you get on my ‘impenetrable’ ship?”
“Oh, well…” she smiled at him and he smiled, wanly, back, “My name is Maria Dulcea.” The smile on The Doctor froze, as he remembered his dream…
Her breath… her lips. The girl… dark hair.