The Unexpected Hero

The Poster

LACEY

I stared at my Doctor Who poster I had contained in my possession since I was sixteen. I remember the excitement I had when I bought it; even more so when I found out it was double sided! KEEP CALM AND DON'T BLINK, indeed!

I couldn't stop smiling at the waxed plastic endorsement poster, even after today's radical events. I didn't expect the Doctor to still be here, and I didn't expect this to ever be over, so I took this moment by the hair and wept out loud.

"Doctor," I huffed to the figures in the poster, "I have something to admit... You're kind of hard to handle! But you're still so... I don't even know what I like about you. I just like you."

I sat on my bed after my silent rant, feeling an eerie presence lurking behind me.

"You look crazy talking to that poster," the Doctor said coolly in a pensive tone. I had my hand over the picture of Eleven, since the poster had portrayed every past Doctor to date.

"Just by looking at him I can tell he's not you," I grumbled, moving my hand.

"Not this again!" The Doctor groaned, obviously tired of hearing my comparisons. "Let's just draw the line. I'm nothing like fantasy man."

"The Doctor lies," I hissed under my breath. A grin spread across his lips.

"I have slightly different rules," he winked at me. He winked? Or was that an eye twitch? A malfunction of evil, perhaps? Mixed messages!

He made me think badly of him, and I didn't like it. What did he do to his companions to leave him companionless? Was it something bad? Or did he not even have companions in the first place, and they were just used for slavery? I didn't want to think about it right now.

"I'm sure you're still very much like the man I think you are," I told him, but it was a complete lie. The Doctor was at my side now, his eyebrows arching up in disbelief.

"Let me prove my point," I hesitated, then swallowed my fear and pressed my lips on his. I almost started to cry when I felt his hands at my neck. That was it... He wasn't waving them around wondering why they were even there. He put them somewhere.

And in a seductive way, too.

"I wasn't expecting that," the Doctor wiped his lips with the back of his hand, "I wasn't expecting that at all."

His hands weren't fidgety when I let my hands drop into his.

"This won't work," I spoke narrowly to the Doctor, my gaze shifting over to the poster, "it was never going to work."

"I knew that," the Doctor was on his feet, and out my bedroom door. "Keep the dress!"

Once I was sure the Doctor had left, I angrily balled myself up on my bed, and screamed in agonising pain.

I looked over to my computer chair where the Doctor had sat, noticing he left his screwdriver.

I had the sonic technology in my hands, feeling disillusioned and confused. I was so depressed I probably couldn't spell Wensday. I mean Wednesday.

Rubie and the Master were probably cuddling right now. They were so lovie dovie with each other it was loathsome and embarrassing. Next thing you know, he'll be massaging her feet as per his suggestion! Ew.

"I left my sonic screwdriver!" The Doctor's voice was rushed as he yelled.

"I know," I snuffled, looking up at him. He had changed into his typical wear of tweed and his shirt I always thought looked like grid paper, complimented with his shiny brown bow tie.

"You knew it the whole time, Lacey. Why bother trying to prove yourself otherwise, when I'm me, and not him." The Doctor mentioned calmly to me. I clutched at my pillow, shrugging.

"Because I believe in you too much!" I sobbed, longing for some comfort. The Doctor's lips brushed up against my forehead in to a brief, affectionate touch.

"I'm sorry. A little, but you know me in reverse. Being evil, hurting lives, etcetera," he chuckled, making me spurt out a tiny giggle.

"In this world's version of your life, the Master is evil and you're good," I wiped away my tears with a tissue.

"In my eyes the Master is always evil... And so are you, but maybe that's just because I am evil, but that doesn't mean anything, not to me. Anyway, I better be off, lots to see, lots to do..."

The Doctor's voice faded. He looked at me as he got up. "I thought you wanted to see no where." His hand pulled me off the bed unexpectedly. "Quick trip. You'll be back in time for sleep."

"But I'm sleepy now," I groaned, flopping back onto the bed.

The Doctor stared at me confusingly. I had my back on the bed, holding in my smile like a kid who knew about their birthday present, and couldn't wait.

"Good Eleven would usually leave and appear five years later. What will you do, Doctor?"

"Stay," he muttered, sounding surprised with himself. I threw my pillow at him, laughing.

"As if!" I crooned.

The Doctor nodded.

"If it makes you feel uncomfortable, I will definitely stay. Might as well take the hospitality, you did give me food, and in assumption means you'll clearly be fine with me staying." He babbled.

I nodded and shrugged, just to make him feel better.

"Just for one night. Then I want you out of my house," I had a tinge of noticeable excitement in my voice.

Doctor smirked, sitting himself down on the bed.

"What do evil people do on this planet?" The Doctor asked, smiling at something. Was there something on my face?

Oh, I had the weirdest vision of him having retractable vampire teeth when I shut my eyes for a half second. Those monsters like in the TV show Supernatural. Since he mentioned evil people.

I didn't want to give the Doctor any major ideas, like genocide or war. The UN couldn't stop a galactic felon. Wait, was the Doctor...

"You lie to people, don't you?" I eyed his suspiciously.

"Hmm?" The Doctor seemed reluctant to answer.

"They all think you're nice! That's why you're so nice to me without problems. Now that's evil."

I was pretty proud of my sudden prediction to be true. I could be so smart with more adrenaline!

I pulled the blanket over myself, yawning loudly.

"Because I don't trust you, sleep on the chair," I instructed slightly sarcastically. He just slumped into a comfortable spot on the swivel seat, with this arms crossed over his chest and his hair flicked over his forehead. I reassured myself to sleep, that everything would be OK.

I couldn't trust the Doctor as a person... But I trusted him as a man. In the sense that if he wanted to seriously hurt me, he would of. Repeatedly. Unmercifully.

Instead he secretly offered me a trip to no where in his TARDIS.

It's not sweet, its guilt. Wonderfully charming guilt.