The Angels Speak

The Angels Speak

as told by the Doctor

I whipped out my sonic screwdriver, scanning the angel statue. It was normal. No lack of time energy, no outrageous amount of them, what could it want? It's got to be one of them. It can't be any old normal statue. That would be too easy. I'm clever, I should be able to figure this one out. But first, why this house? Who lives here? If it is a normal statue, then whoever lives here put it there.

I walked over to the dark brown door and knocked four times.

The door opened.

"Hello? And who might you be?" asked a young girl with dark blue eyes and chocolate brown hair that curled around her face.

"Smith. John Smith," I lied, flashing the psychic paper, which now made me a statue inspector...if those even exist.

"Statue inspector? What, do you get paid to look at stone? There's a job for everything nowadays. I'm Abigail," she held out her dainty hand. I shook it, nodding my head.

"Right, now Abigail, if I could just come in. I'd like to ask you a few questions. About the angel statue in your front garden."

"It just turned up this morning. I've never seen it before, anywhere. Phoned my friend to check and make sure it wasn't some Christmas gift," Abigail explained.

"Oh! Is it Christmas already? Time really does fly. Okay. I need to watch that statue. Have you got a while, Abigail?" I asked, putting on my glasses. I don't need them that desperately, they just make me look more clever.

"I've got time for you," she said.

"What was that?" I asked, knowing exactly what she'd whispered.

"What was what?" Oh, she's good.

"Well, tell me everything you've noticed about that statue. Has it...moved?" That's probably going too far. She'll say I'm mad, which isn't exactly a lie.

"Yes."

"What?"

"It's moved." Well, that's not exactly good news. Well, it's bad. Well, it means we're all in danger, but now I know it's not an ordinary stone angel. What if it wants the TARDIS? Well, I've got the key. Nothing's getting in.

"Listen to me, that's no ordinary stone angel statue. It's a Weeping Angel," I told her.

"Well yeah, looks like it's crying," she replied, a smile forming in the corner of her mouth.

"This is no laughing matter. We're in danger," I told her.

"Why is it here? At my house?" Abigail wondered. I thought for a second.

"I don't know. Usually they need time energy or something. That's what they feed on, the energy that comes off people when they're sent back in time. There's only one in your front garden, so we're not in desperate trouble yet, but if more show up, find me. Look for a blue police box," oh no, she's going to find the TARDIS sooner or later. They always do.

"Oi! You're leaving? We've only just met! And how am I supposed to sleep at night with this angel outside my house? It could get me in the middle of the night!" she protested. I couldn't stay with her. That'd just be awkward.

"Well....." I started to protest.

"Please! I don't want to stay here alone with that....that thing!" she begged. I can't resist humans....especially good-looking females...

"Okay, I'll stay. I should sleep on the couch, though. Don't want any-"

"Yes, yes of course. I'll go get blankets," she said. What have I gotten myself in to? A Weeping Angel in the front garden, and I'm sleeping on the sofa owned by a stranger! I sat down on the sofa to take in my surroundings, and Abigail walked in the room with bedding in her arms.