Before going to the museum, the Doctor had gotten a glimpse of a bubbly girl walking home one night.
She was alone and...slightly drunk, which already isn't a good combination, and deadly dangerous if someone finds her like this.
And then he tripped on an empty can.
The girl whipped around to look at him, and he was sure he'd stuffed up. Not that he was following her, of course, just...watching. From a distance.
The girl smiled, waved at him enthusiastically like they'd been friends all their lives, and then kept heading down the alleyway.
The Doctor stopped, frozen in shock. That girl...he was positive they'd never met before but there was something so...familiar. So right.
As if they really did know each other on some sort of intimate level.
And then she was gone around the corner, out of the Doctor's sight.
Part of him wanted to run after her, talk to her, get to know her. But that wasn't who he was anymore.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed back down the alley.
*The Night We Met - Lord Huron
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Doctor Who: Really Tiny Short Stories
FanfictionThe bloody TARDIS. Of course, that was a brilliant idea; show everyone the Doctor's muddled clumps of memories... So I found some things in an old document of mine, and decided to publish them because why not? As the title says, they are very, VERY...
