Every Consulting Criminal Needs A Companion (Wholock)

The Fifth Hour

Author's Note: Yes, all the chapters will be named after Doctor Who episodes. The name will allude to whatever's in the chapter.

•~•~•~•~•~•

The Soldier scurried down the sidewalk, wanting to get home very quickly now. He was still unnerved from his meeting with John. You almost blew your cover! he scolded himself inwardly. He fiddled in his pocket as he turned down a driveway. When he reached the door, he already had the key in hand. He opened the door to the exceptionally large, white house and stepped inside. A bell chimed, signalling that someone had entered to anyone inside. He closed the door then sighed and quickly took his shoes off, setting them by the door. He took off his coat and hung it on the wall-rack next to the door, too. He undid the bowtie he'd been wearing all day then removed his shirt. Shirtless, he strutted over and plopped onto the luxurious couch. He brushed away some envelopes and papers lying at the other end so that he could put his feet up.

He was finally totally relaxed when the phone rang. The Soldier groaned dramatically and let it go to his old recording. The Soldier cringed at how weird it sounded. He felt his throat, wondering if he still sounded like that.

Whoever had called must've given up trying to call him, or maybe they got scared away by the recording. Whatever the case, the ringing had reminded him to call that girl from the cafe. The Soldier sat up, swinging his legs off of the comfy couch, and picked up the phone. He quickly dialed in his number and waited impatiently for the girl to pick up.

"Hello?" she answered. "Who is this? Why is it a guarded number?" she began pestering with skeptical questions.

"Hold up! Hold up!" he teased back into the phone.

"Oh, you're the boy from earlier," she responded. Her tone calmed with this information.

He laughed, smirking though she couldn't see it. "Yeah, the one you gave your number to. I called to see if you wanted to catch dinner or something, Ashley, right?"

"Yeah, that's right, and yes. I would love dinner!" He could hear laughter on the other end, though it wasn't loud enough to be her own. "Hey! Quit laughing! At least he's cute!" he heard as a muffled shout. She must be talking to a friend, or something, he deduced.

"I'll meet you at the cafe at five," he finished, hoping she had heard.

"Okay!" she said, giggling cheerfully. He heard a beep as she ended the call. He yawned and stood up. He then proceeded to get ready. Wow. He was actually going on a date. Well, not a date. Not really. He just needed a companion. Someone British; someone who would give him a good reason to stay here longer. It was surprising he'd stayed this long! Oh right, he stayed because he didn't know how to leave. He silently cursed as he reminded himself of that; he'd have to stick it out until some one

He picked up pretty well. He wore a clean, light purple and white plaid shirt with a splash of baby blue. He also had on khaki pants and his favorite London cap to control his messy, curly hair. He made his way out. The cafe wasn't too far away, so he decided to walk there instead of taking a cab.

When he arrived, which was just on time, he saw her sitting and waiting. He waved, to catch her attention, before entering. He made his way over and sat across from her at the small table for two near the back. He reminded himself to smile and not to trip or run into another table. Look happy! He sighed inwardly. Ugh. Maybe I should just act naural. Wait, not natural. How about... a fake natural? Whatever. Go with natural. He was having a horrible time deciding how to go about getting her to not freak out about him.

"So, sorry for asking, but what's your name? I never got it when we were over the phone and stuff. I know it's a bit rude to ask now, but I guess it's better late than never," she rambled. She smiled sheepishly too. The Soldier guessed she must be nervous. Probably hasn't been out alone with a boy before, or even on a date.