*DISCONTINUED* Between Dimensions (A Doctor Who Fanfiction)

Chapter 12: Orangey Light

The TARDIS materialized in a narrow, cobblestone alley. As the door opened, Susan noticed a cat racing off as fast as its legs could carry it.

"Poor kitty," Adrian said sympathetically as they all stepped out of the police box.

"Right, so, here's the plan," the Doctor said. "We find Vincent and he leads us straight to the church and our nasty friend."

"And I have a feeling that we will find Vincent in that direction," Susan said, leading them out of the alley and pointing to a café.

"Orangey light, chairs and tables, yup, that's the same exact café Vincent painted," the Doctor said, heading toward the café.

"Good evening," the Doctor said to a waitress. "Does the name Vincent Van Gogh ring a bell?"

Adrian and Susan walked to an empty table and sat down as the waitresses spoke to the Doctor. Adrian glanced through a window of the café. "There's a man with orange hair who is holding a painting. Perhaps that's Van Gogh?"

"Most likely," Susan replied. "Wait, don't move."

Adrian froze. Susan gazed at him as he looked at her questioningly. The orange light coming from the café bounced off of his pale skin, contrasting perfectly with the icy blue of his eyes. It looked like something Vincent Van Gogh would like to paint, though she wouldn't ask him. That would be very weird. She quickly considered snapping a picture with her iPod, but she didn't dare take it out of her bag in case others would see it. She would just have to save this image in her memory.

"What's wrong?" Adrian asked. Susan pretended to brush something off his face.

"Nothing; it's just an eyelash." She leaned forward to get a good view through the café window. The man with orange hair was following the manager out of the building.

"Come on! Come on! One painting for one drink. That's not a bad deal," Van Gogh pleaded. Adrian and Susan grinned excitedly at each other. Susan turned to look at Amy, whose mouth was open in the trademark silent scream of a fangirl trying to suppress her excitement.

"It wouldn't be a bad deal if the painting were any good. I can't hang that up on my walls. It'd scare the customers half to death. It's bad enough having you in here in person, let alone looming over the customers day and night in a stupid hat. You pay money or you get out."

"I'll pay, if you like," the Doctor interrupted.

"What?" the manager asked.

"Well, if you like, I'll pay for the drink. Or I'll pay for the painting and you can use the money to pay for the drink."

Vincent glared at him scornfully. "Exactly who are you?"

"Oh, I'm new in town," the Doctor replied.

"Well, in that case, you don't know three things. One, I pay for my own drinks thank you." He paused when bystanders started laughing, and then continued. "Two, no one ever buys any of my paintings or they would be laughed out of town. So if you want to stay in town, I suggest you keep your cash to yourself. And three, your friend's cute, but you should keep your big nose out of other people's business."

Susan and the Doctor glanced at Amy with raised eyebrows. She shrugged her shoulders, smiling slightly.

"Come on, just one more drink. I'll pay tomorrow," Vincent begged.

"No," the manager said firmly.

"Or, on the other hand, slightly more compassionately, yes?" Vincent looked hopeful.

"Or, on the other hand, to protect my business from madmen, no."

"Or?"

Amy interrupted the two men's bickering. "Oh look, just shut up, the pair of you. I would like a bottle of wine, please, which I will then share with whomever I choose." She looked meaningfully at Vincent when she said this.