There was music in the library.
It wasn't coming from the radio, since the musician had pilfered the machine for its electronic components some time ago. The music was coming from a Stradivarius violin, polished to a loving sheen and played with a careless grace. The music itself had no real melody, just a variation on a few notes, rising and
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Closing the performance with an understated flourish, he set the instrument in his lap and beamed brightly at the newcomer. "Good morning! It is still morning, I hope. I'm the Doctor; what's your name?"
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"It is, I believe, but barely just. My name is Daniel."
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"Ah, pardon the research," said the Doctor apologetically, instrument, bow and books all precariously in his grasp. "It's so difficult to conduct decent research when nothing in this library has been published past the Humanian Era 2007. As I was saying, have you been in the Hotel long?"
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"Hey, Doctor," she said softly, waving at him before going to the shelves to absently pick a book. Nancy Drew, Nancy Drew...Sweet Valley High? She was in the wrong section, it seemed.
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"How've you been? I didn't know you played," she said, nodding toward the violin. "I totally don't."
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He smiled ruefully. "You know what they say. Once you hit the big 950, the memory starts to go."
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