☆ The Pilot ☆

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Nardole enters the office through the door followed by a girl. Nardole's arm shrieks as he gestures to the girl to take a seat in front of the desk. A bolt falls off. He smiles awkwardly kicking it behind him before backing out the door, closing it behind.

The girls eyes wonder around the room, landing on the blue police box parked in the corner by the window. It has a sign hanging on the doors saying Out of order.

On the desk were some photographs.
One of Susan Foreman and River Song. Her eyes trail to the photo that looked to be a wedding picture. The bride was dressed in a beautiful blue gown. She couldn't quite make out her face as they had their foreheads pressed against one another, lovingly.

Their was a framed drawing of two people holding hands with that same blue police box in the background surronding by a starry night

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Their was a framed drawing of two people holding hands with that same blue police box in the background surronding by a starry night. She realised it was the same female in the wedding photo. Or at least she assumed it would be. She smiles in awe.

She reaches out to touch a pot which should be filled with pens and pencils but was in fact sonic screwdrivers. Not that she would know what they were, when suddenly what was once peaceful silence was ripped by a loud screech coming from an electric guitar playing Beethoven's Fifth.

She jumps in her chair in a fright and clears her throat.

The Doctor pokes his head out of the other door to her left before going back again. There is this whir sound before he comes out.

"Potts?" He asks.

"Yeah,"

"Bill Potts,"

"You wanted to see me,"

"Er, you're not a student at this university," the Doctor begins.

"Nah, I work in the canteen,"

"Yeah, but you come to my lectures,"

"No, I don't. I never do that,"

"I've seen you," he says.

"Love your lectures. They're totally awesome,"

"Why do you come to my lectures when you're not a student?" He asks.

"Ok, so my first day here, in the canteen, I was on chips. There was this girl. Student. Beautiful. Like a model, only with talking and thinking. She looked at you and you perved. Every time, automatic, like physics. Eye contact, perversion. So, I gave her extra chips. Every time, extra chips. Like a reward for all the perversion. Every day, got myself some chips, rewarded her. Then finally, finally, she looked at me, like she'd noticed, actually noticed, all the extra chips. Do you know what I realised? She was fat. I'd fatted her. But that's life, innit? Beauty or chips. I like chips. So, did she. So that's ok,"

☆ Alone in this world ☆ Book 2Where stories live. Discover now