The Girl Who Accidentally Ran Away (A Doctor Who Fan-fiction)

Chapter Twenty-Three: Beautiful Day For A Wedding

"Where did you want to be dropped off again?"

The Doctor new the answer to this question. He just didn't want the answer. We hadn't been apart in hundreds of years, so honestly, a break from each other was long overdue. 

"London. Modern day."

"How boring. What could you possibly want to do there?" I sighed.

"Is this how it's going to be?" I questioned, "You pouting the entire time?"

"I don't pout! I'm not pouting."

"You kind of are." Rose agreed.

"Fine. London, Modern day, coming right up." He started flipping switches haphazardly in some attempt to show up. I rolled my eyes as the TARDIS landed.

"Rose, can you give us a sec?" I asked. She nodded, going back into the corridors.  The Doctor leaned against the console, his hands jammed in his pockets. He was staring at the ground as if he were trying to burn holes through the floor. I put a hand on his face, forcing him to look at me. "Doctor...we haven't been apart for more than an hour or so in hundreds of years. A bit of space will do us both some good. Just go with Rose, have fun, come pick me back up in a bit."

"Might. Might not."

"Pouting."  I pointed out.

"I'm not pouting!" I pressed my lips to the corner of his mouth before grabbing my jacket off of the jump seat and walking out the door. The TARDIS took off again and it took only two passerby's and a boom box to realize that this is not modern day London. I spotted a newspaper stand a couple feet away and ran over to it, grabbing one.

"November 7th...1987. Doctor, I swear..." I tossed the paper, putting on my jacket over the dress I was still wearing and walked down the street. I might as well find something to do. 

I walked past church that had bells ringing. A car pulled up with ribbons tied on. Car, ribbons, people in nice clothes. Beautiful day for a wedding. There was a man in a suit talking into a clunky, eighties-style cell phone.

"Half the guests haven't turned up. You're better off not being here, it's a disaster in the making."

"Quite the optimist." I muttered to myself, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"No, in this case, 'knocked her up' is a phrase I'd use. Hello? Who's this?" I furrowed my eyebrows, walking over to the man.

"May I? Thanks mate." I took his phone, pressing it to my ear.

"Hang on! Who are you?"

"Watson, come here. I need you." I furrowed my eyebrows. That's the first telephone call. Alexander Graham Bell. Wait a minute, if that's coming through on the phones, then...someone has gone and screwed up a timeline.

"Dad, get inside. We can't see the bride before the wedding. That's bad luck." I handed the man, apparently the father of the groom, his phone back.

"Bad luck when you met her. I tell you, this day is cursed. Now you, are you supposed to be here?" He asked me. I nodded.

" Of course I am. I was invited. An invitation is usually a pre-requisite for attendance to an event, is it not?" He looked dumbfounded and followed his son inside without another word. Something is wrong here. The bride climbed out of the ribbon-clad car in a very eighties wedding dress. She was talking to the women by the gate, but I couldn't hear what they were saying from where I was standing.

"I'm here, stop your bellyachin'!" Wait...I know that voice. I looked up to see none other than Jackie Tyler getting out of the car. "Take Rose a sec, will you?" She handed off a baby carrier. My eyes widened.