Fic: The Guardian's Key- Chapter One
Title: The Guardian's Key
Fandom: AU Doctor Who
Characters: Doctor (Eleven), UNIT, OC
Summary: He crashed into her life. Now he has to figure out why.
Author's Notes: Here, have a chapter :D
Without bothering to put on anything except my winter boots, I hurried down the stairs. A million thoughts began running through my mind: first off, would my insurance cover a projectile from space destroying my Grand Am; I doubt this highly. Second, was there anyone inside that projectile that I could yell at for destroying my baby; I doubt this even more. Much to my surprise, there was someone inside. More specifically, he was climbing out of it. Two seconds later, he was standing in the snow, next to what was left of my car.
He seemed to be about my age, maybe a little older. The pinstriped suit he was wearing didn’t seem to fit him in size or style. It was also quite tattered, ripped in some places and burnt in others. He looked around, first at his blue box, then at my car and then at me, allowing me to see his face. It was attractive, in a geeky sort of way. His eyes were hazel-ish in color, his hair was dark brown and his skin was a bit pale, though that could be explained by him being shaken up from his ordeal. There was a cut above his left eyebrow and a trickle of blood running down from the corner of his mouth. His hands also had a few cuts and scrapes on them. He just stared at me for a moment, the snow beginning to gather in his hair, before smiling. Despite the shape he was in, I couldn’t help noticing that he had a very nice smile.
“Hello!” he said, a bit cheerily for the situation. “I seem to have crashed into this car, do you happen to know the owner?” I didn’t answer right then; instead I went to him and put one of his arms over my shoulders. Car problems went directly to the back burner; this man needed my help.
“Come on. I think you need a cup of tea.”
I walked the injured man up the three flights of stairs to my apartment and sat him down in my favorite chair. It was an old brown, plush recliner that had been left to me by my grandmother, who died my senior year of high school; I’ve been told by many a furniture store to just trash the chair when I’ve asked for it to be mended. I tell each of them if they don’t want my money, I’ll take it to someone who does.
“Oh now this is a chair!” the man said as he flopped himself down into it. “Nice and comfy, though a bit worn down in places…” I watched in amusement as he fidgeted around until was seated diagonally; his head was against the left side of the chair back while his legs hung over the right arm. “Oh… this is how you sit in it?” I nodded. He snuggled in the chair. “I can see why… I could fall asleep.”
“You may want to do just that,” I suggested, turning to grab an afghan off the back of my couch. “You look like you could use a rest.” By the time I had turned back around, the man was fast asleep. I chuckled softly as I covered him with the afghan. He didn’t look to be in much pain, but did I dare leave him alone? What if something happened to him while I was at work? I soon went to my computer and logged into my work email; I had a few personal days saved up and the weather would be a reasonable excuse to take one. Thankfully, it was a Friday-one was all I’d need.
After sending in my email to my supervisor-he replied moments later saying not to worry about it, as he was staying home himself; he had a few choice words about Western New York winters that I wholeheartedly agreed with and I made sure to tell him so-I sent an email to a friend/sometimes coworker of mine in England. The blue box meant something, though I wasn’t sure what. My friend would know. That old dog somehow knew everything and had no problems with letting everyone know that he knew everything.
I knew not to expect a reply from him anytime soon; he had recently lost someone quite dear to him and because of that, he spent most of his time traveling alone. His last email to me had been short, only requesting to know if I was alright. He and I have never met face to face, never spoken verbally, but I still consider him to be my dearest friend. Because of that, I’m not sure why I felt that I needed to lie to him and tell him that I was unharmed.
I had never lied to a friend before; my faith has never lied with religious figures or government officials, both of which whom were cursed by everyone in regards to what had happened. Instead, it has always been in those closest to me; during my school years it lied in my two best friends, a pair of twins named Bob and George who always seemed to find their way to the wooden bench outside the principal’s office. By sixth grade, I found myself sitting between them.
When Bob, George and I all ended up in different colleges, I found myself taken in by the Sacred Guild of Geekdom, a university club that was comprised of every sort of geek imaginable. I found myself in the gamer crowd along with Tracey and Jill; the three of us bonded quickly and it those two who were always willing to lend me a bunk when my roommate brought her boyfriend over. Thankfully, the next semester found me moving into the guild’s house-like a frat house, but less booze and classier women-and sharing a room with Tracey and Jill.
When we graduated, I said goodbye to Tracey and Jill and went right to my first job (that wasn’t work study). I joined my team as the youngest member and expected to be snubbed because of it. To my surprise, they never did and I made sure to live up to that. My team became who I put my faith and trust in. It was them who put me back together after the ordeal… literally.
A soft moan took me out of my thoughts and I found myself looking over at my chair. The mysterious man was still asleep, but now he had the blanket wrapped tightly around him. In spite of how weird the entire situation was, I couldn’t help smiling and thinking how adorable the sight was. At the same time, I couldn’t help realizing that it was a good thing I had covered him with a blanket; the suit he was wearing was falling apart and I didn’t doubt that the right movement would leave the man in his undies. He needed new clothes, or at least used ones that would stay together. Luckily, I had just the thing.
Before he passed on, my father had been a professor of medieval literature, one most freshman students pray they don’t get. It wasn’t because he was a strict teacher, or that his lessons were confusing or even that his homework was hard. After having taken his class, most students would agree that Dad was a decent teacher who gave out interesting assignments and graded fairly. However, the new ones were not able to get past the fact that he dressed like Professor Henry Jones, Senior and at orientation, he acted like him as well. This, for some strange reason, scared the hell out of freshmen.
Dad’s been gone less than two years; many of his things are still in his room, including most of his clothes. I haven’t been able to throw them away or give them to goodwill just yet…but this mysterious man needed them. In a way, he needed me; the universe had placed him in my path. I had no choice.
In my father’s closet, I managed to find an outfit that looked to be brand new and never worn, though completely in Dad’s style; a light brown tweed jacket with a plum colored pinstripe collared shirt, a darker purple bow tie and navy blue slacks. I had no idea if these, or the black dress books I found to go with the ensemble would fit my guest, but it was much better than the alternative (if you’re wondering, there wasn’t one).
I took the folded clothes and the boots into the living room and placed them on the coffee table, noticing as I did so that my visitor had awakened. I smiled kindly and nodded to the clothes.
“You might need those,” I told him. “Yours are falling apart.”
“Thank you,” he replied, sitting up properly in the chair, but making sure to keep the blanket tight around him. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced; I’m the Doctor.”
“Hello, Doctor. I’m Duff. Duff Topel.”
Fandom: AU Doctor Who
Characters: Doctor (Eleven), UNIT, OC
Summary: He crashed into her life. Now he has to figure out why.
Author's Notes: Here, have a chapter :D
Without bothering to put on anything except my winter boots, I hurried down the stairs. A million thoughts began running through my mind: first off, would my insurance cover a projectile from space destroying my Grand Am; I doubt this highly. Second, was there anyone inside that projectile that I could yell at for destroying my baby; I doubt this even more. Much to my surprise, there was someone inside. More specifically, he was climbing out of it. Two seconds later, he was standing in the snow, next to what was left of my car.
He seemed to be about my age, maybe a little older. The pinstriped suit he was wearing didn’t seem to fit him in size or style. It was also quite tattered, ripped in some places and burnt in others. He looked around, first at his blue box, then at my car and then at me, allowing me to see his face. It was attractive, in a geeky sort of way. His eyes were hazel-ish in color, his hair was dark brown and his skin was a bit pale, though that could be explained by him being shaken up from his ordeal. There was a cut above his left eyebrow and a trickle of blood running down from the corner of his mouth. His hands also had a few cuts and scrapes on them. He just stared at me for a moment, the snow beginning to gather in his hair, before smiling. Despite the shape he was in, I couldn’t help noticing that he had a very nice smile.
“Hello!” he said, a bit cheerily for the situation. “I seem to have crashed into this car, do you happen to know the owner?” I didn’t answer right then; instead I went to him and put one of his arms over my shoulders. Car problems went directly to the back burner; this man needed my help.
“Come on. I think you need a cup of tea.”
I walked the injured man up the three flights of stairs to my apartment and sat him down in my favorite chair. It was an old brown, plush recliner that had been left to me by my grandmother, who died my senior year of high school; I’ve been told by many a furniture store to just trash the chair when I’ve asked for it to be mended. I tell each of them if they don’t want my money, I’ll take it to someone who does.
“Oh now this is a chair!” the man said as he flopped himself down into it. “Nice and comfy, though a bit worn down in places…” I watched in amusement as he fidgeted around until was seated diagonally; his head was against the left side of the chair back while his legs hung over the right arm. “Oh… this is how you sit in it?” I nodded. He snuggled in the chair. “I can see why… I could fall asleep.”
“You may want to do just that,” I suggested, turning to grab an afghan off the back of my couch. “You look like you could use a rest.” By the time I had turned back around, the man was fast asleep. I chuckled softly as I covered him with the afghan. He didn’t look to be in much pain, but did I dare leave him alone? What if something happened to him while I was at work? I soon went to my computer and logged into my work email; I had a few personal days saved up and the weather would be a reasonable excuse to take one. Thankfully, it was a Friday-one was all I’d need.
After sending in my email to my supervisor-he replied moments later saying not to worry about it, as he was staying home himself; he had a few choice words about Western New York winters that I wholeheartedly agreed with and I made sure to tell him so-I sent an email to a friend/sometimes coworker of mine in England. The blue box meant something, though I wasn’t sure what. My friend would know. That old dog somehow knew everything and had no problems with letting everyone know that he knew everything.
I knew not to expect a reply from him anytime soon; he had recently lost someone quite dear to him and because of that, he spent most of his time traveling alone. His last email to me had been short, only requesting to know if I was alright. He and I have never met face to face, never spoken verbally, but I still consider him to be my dearest friend. Because of that, I’m not sure why I felt that I needed to lie to him and tell him that I was unharmed.
I had never lied to a friend before; my faith has never lied with religious figures or government officials, both of which whom were cursed by everyone in regards to what had happened. Instead, it has always been in those closest to me; during my school years it lied in my two best friends, a pair of twins named Bob and George who always seemed to find their way to the wooden bench outside the principal’s office. By sixth grade, I found myself sitting between them.
When Bob, George and I all ended up in different colleges, I found myself taken in by the Sacred Guild of Geekdom, a university club that was comprised of every sort of geek imaginable. I found myself in the gamer crowd along with Tracey and Jill; the three of us bonded quickly and it those two who were always willing to lend me a bunk when my roommate brought her boyfriend over. Thankfully, the next semester found me moving into the guild’s house-like a frat house, but less booze and classier women-and sharing a room with Tracey and Jill.
When we graduated, I said goodbye to Tracey and Jill and went right to my first job (that wasn’t work study). I joined my team as the youngest member and expected to be snubbed because of it. To my surprise, they never did and I made sure to live up to that. My team became who I put my faith and trust in. It was them who put me back together after the ordeal… literally.
A soft moan took me out of my thoughts and I found myself looking over at my chair. The mysterious man was still asleep, but now he had the blanket wrapped tightly around him. In spite of how weird the entire situation was, I couldn’t help smiling and thinking how adorable the sight was. At the same time, I couldn’t help realizing that it was a good thing I had covered him with a blanket; the suit he was wearing was falling apart and I didn’t doubt that the right movement would leave the man in his undies. He needed new clothes, or at least used ones that would stay together. Luckily, I had just the thing.
Before he passed on, my father had been a professor of medieval literature, one most freshman students pray they don’t get. It wasn’t because he was a strict teacher, or that his lessons were confusing or even that his homework was hard. After having taken his class, most students would agree that Dad was a decent teacher who gave out interesting assignments and graded fairly. However, the new ones were not able to get past the fact that he dressed like Professor Henry Jones, Senior and at orientation, he acted like him as well. This, for some strange reason, scared the hell out of freshmen.
Dad’s been gone less than two years; many of his things are still in his room, including most of his clothes. I haven’t been able to throw them away or give them to goodwill just yet…but this mysterious man needed them. In a way, he needed me; the universe had placed him in my path. I had no choice.
In my father’s closet, I managed to find an outfit that looked to be brand new and never worn, though completely in Dad’s style; a light brown tweed jacket with a plum colored pinstripe collared shirt, a darker purple bow tie and navy blue slacks. I had no idea if these, or the black dress books I found to go with the ensemble would fit my guest, but it was much better than the alternative (if you’re wondering, there wasn’t one).
I took the folded clothes and the boots into the living room and placed them on the coffee table, noticing as I did so that my visitor had awakened. I smiled kindly and nodded to the clothes.
“You might need those,” I told him. “Yours are falling apart.”
“Thank you,” he replied, sitting up properly in the chair, but making sure to keep the blanket tight around him. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced; I’m the Doctor.”
“Hello, Doctor. I’m Duff. Duff Topel.”