Chapter Text
The night was coming on slowly as she sat on her back porch, smoking a cigarette. Life was perfectly ordinary for Glenda. She took few risks in life other than the cancer stick—And it was true what some said, we’re all allowed one vice. This was hers, a private indulgence that no one knew about. She preferred that people saw her as stable and dependable, a woman who did what she ought even if she wasn’t particularly ambitious. Glenda seemed content with her life as it was: working seven-thirty to three at the local middle school as an English teacher during the day and keeping mostly to herself and her lesson plans at night. But it was this one thing, the smoking, an unknown fact that said the most about her: she wanted something else from life, something that her middle class world could not offer her. She fully expected nothing to happen to her that would change her life in any appreciable way. To her family and her friends she seemed content with her lot in life. But with each drag on the cigarette she announced to herself that she wasn’t happy with the way her life had turned out.
Which was why she nearly set her clothes on fire with that cigarette when something DID happen.
“What the hell,” she exclaimed as she jumped to her feet to let the burning cigarette fall from her lap and down to the wooden planks. She stomped it out with the toe of her Toms. For a second or two she had been sure that one of the shrubs in her tiny backyard had been ablaze in blue light. By the time she had her cigarette out the light was gone. Glenda rubbed at her eyes. Maybe her contacts needed to be changed, she thought. As she lowered her hand, though, she saw the shrubs alight once more and this time it pulsed back and forth between a sky blue and a blazing white in a gentle one-two rhythm. It was beautiful. And like a tractor beam, she was drawn to it. She slowly descended the steps of the porch and stepped out onto the lawn. As she approached, her mind called up an old story from Sunday school, the one about Moses and the burning bush. With little other thought in her head she kicked her espadrilles off and approached the rest of the way on bare feet, letting the dewy grass tickle her sensitive flesh.
She reached her fingers towards the light, wondering if it would burn her, but just having to know one way or the other. She was mere inches from the beautiful light and it was as though whatever was there was eager for her touch as well because it pulsed, like rave lighting, faster and faster. A tiny wisp extended towards her hand. She turned her palm up as though she’d like to cup that light in her palm. But then, without notice, the flames retreated into itself and then extinguished completely. Her whine of disappointment was on her tongue when she heard her garden gate creak open and then shut with a clang. Glenda spun on her heels in surprise to see a man holding a green laser pointer that was aimed straight at her. It must have been malfunctioning, because it buzzed and whirred in his hand and when she looked down at herself she didn’t see the telltale dot that should have been on her chest. She noted this in that surreal way one experiences when one’s brain is starting to overload.
Glenda began to wonder if someone had laced her cigarettes with weed. She even looked down, expecting to see a cigarette in her hand but had forgotten that it lay smouldering on her porch. At that she released a small giggle--and then whatever invisible wires there were that held her up were cut and she collapsed to the ground.
◍ ◍ ◍
An indeterminate amount of time later Glenda was coming to again by the gentle tapping of a cool hand against her cheek.
“Ah, there you are. You scared me for a moment.” She blinked the fuzziness from her eyes and in the decreasing light she could just make out the face of the man who’d been aiming the laser pointer at her. Now that she was stirring, he backed up and removed his hand from her face and began smoothing floppy hair from his rather wide forehead. After this, he rubbed his square jaw and bit his lip, seeming to mull over an important decision.
“Who are y—“ But before she could finish that sentence he had whipped the laser pointer out again and ran it up and down her body. It wasn’t a laser pointer, though, she could see that now. At least not one she had ever seen before. It looked more like a miniature light saber out of Star Wars, minus the actual saber part. It was whirring and buzzing like before.
“To answer your question,” he began as he finished moving the light over her and then flicked it upwards to study the shaft, “I’m the Doctor.”
Glenda pushed herself up onto her elbows and stared at him. “You’re a doctor?”
He continued to stare at the device, turning it this way and that in his hand. “If you like.”
“But what’s your name? Wait, are you British?” It had taken her a minute to place the foreign cadence of his voice but it definitely wasn’t American.
The man shoved his tool back into a pocket of his (was that tweed?) jacket and then sat back onto the grass in a cross-legged position, like a schoolboy, sporting a boyish grin to match. “I already told you my name. I’m called the Doctor.”
“That’s not a name.”
“Sure it is. What’s yours?”
She pushed a strand of hair out of her face and sat up the rest of the way to face him. “My name’s Glenda.” She narrowed her eyes warily. “What kind of name is The Doctor?”
The man steepled his hands under his chin, resting his elbows on each thigh and the smirk widened a bit. “Why don’t we exchange question, yeah?” She nodded and was about to ask her question again when he interrupted. “Splendid! I’ll go first! What happened here in your garden tonight, Glenda?” The smirk faded and became one of grim concentration and Glenda’s pulse began to race.
“Umm, I was sitting on my porch back there, smoking a cigarette—“
“You know that’s a filthy habit, right?” He straightened the red bow tie at his neck.
“Yes, I do,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Do you want me to finish or what?” The man gestured for her to continue. “Anyways. I was just sitting there smoking.” He rolled his eyes at her. When she was sure he wasn’t going to interrupt again she continued. “When all-of-a-sudden my azalea bush burst into blue and white flames.”
His eyes drifted from her face and landed on the bush in question. “That’s definitely not normal,” he said, very slowly.
“No, it’s not. I nearly burned a hole in my jeans, I was so surprised.” She found the charred bit of her pant leg and scrapped at it with her fingernail.
“One of the many hazards of smoking, I suppose,” he said, absently. He straightened the bow tie again and Glenda wondered if it was a nervous tick.
“Yeah, yeah,” she replied, dismissively. “My turn: Who are you, really?”
“I told you already,” he answered as he rose to his feet and started to walk slowly towards her azaleas. “Not my fault you didn’t like my answer.” He drew that weird tool from his pocket again and aimed it at the plant. Now that the darkness was nearly complete she could see the green glow radiating softly from the tip. “But you can ask another question, if you like.”
She huffed her annoyance. “Are you always this annoying?”
“It’s been mentioned from time to time.” Again he whipped the tool upward and seemed to be reading something that she couldn’t make out from the handle. He sniffed a bit and added, “I don’t generally pay attention to those types of remarks.”
This was getting weirder by the minute and she couldn’t take it sitting down any longer. With some effort, because her limbs still weren’t that steady, she got to her feet and approached his tweed-clad back. He was bent over the bush, sniffing the leaves. When she got closer she saw that he was actually sticking his tongue out to lick one of them.
“What are you doing?”
“Now, now. My turn!" He smacked his lips as if trying to identify what he had just tasted. Then he straightened and turned to face her. “What did you do when you saw this bush burst into flames?” As he spoke he began walking slowly towards her, causing her to instinctively move backwards towards the porch. She still had no clue whether this man (The Doctor? What kind of a megalomaniac doesn't have a name?) was a friend or enemy. In the complete absurdity of the moment it had taken her mind a little longer than it should have to raise the intruder alarm. Well, it was ringing now. She wasn't exactly getting serial rapist off this guy, but maybe he was an escaped mental patient?
She only had a few more feet to go before she could race up her steps onto the porch and then maybe she could make the rest of the way into her nicely dead bolted house. There was a phone in there with brightly backlit numbers that she could punch to get a 911 operator on the line and tell them to bring the butterfly nets and a straight jacket. In Glenda's confusion, she had completely forgotten about the automatic flood lights she'd had installed a few weeks earlier. So, when she absently stepped into the radius of its sensors she almost screamed as her yard was instantly bathed in bright light.
The man shielded his eyes against the sudden shocking illumination. Glenda decided to take the opportunity to make a break for it.
"Oy, come back!" she heard him call after her just as she closed the sliding glass door and locked it. She leaned her back against its cool surface and tried to get her racing heart under control. The phone was just on the other side of the living room. She would call the cops and then -- A loud thump against the glass startled her and she whirled around to see her trespasser standing there with a pleading expression across his face.
"Let me in, Glenda. Please?" The sound of his voice carried through the glass in a muffled sort of way and she had to lean closer to hear him. "I think you may be in terrible danger." Another thought seemed to occur to him because he added, "Or you might have a new pet. I'm not sure yet. But that's why I need to talk to you! "
"I think you might be the only danger I'm in, Doctor!" She called back from her side of the glass. "Now get off my property before I call the cops."
The Doctor pulled at his hair in frustration and then slowly smooshed his face against the door. He looked rather ridiculous and the action made his next words come out even more muffled. "Look. I swear on my TARDIS that I mean you no harm."
"Your what?"
The Doctor pulled his face from the glass, leaving behind an impression of his face. He rubbed at his nose before answering her. "My TARDIS. The thing I hold most dear in the universe."
“And that’s supposed to mean something to me, because...”
With her question that boyish glint was back in the Doctor’s eyes. “Ah! I can show you that!” He rubbed his palms together with apparent glee. “If that’s what it takes, I will show you!”
"Show me what?" She said, the frustration building inside of her. She pointed her finger at him, aggressively. "If you're about to show me your thing then you can save it, buddy. I'm not buying what you're selling."
The Doctor looked scandalized. "My what?! Good Lord, you Americans really are rather rude, aren't you?"
"I'm not the madman trespassing on private property!"
"Just because I'm mad, doesn't give you the right to be rude." So, he was insane. But she was beginning to feel a little ashamed and embarrassed by what she'd said.
"Alright. I'm sorry for being rude. What did you want to show me?"
The Doctor's affronted expression seemed to relent somewhat with her apology. "Wait here," he said. "I'll be right back." And with that he trotted off her porch and back out the way he had come, through her garden gate.
Glenda waited. And she waited some more. When she was starting to believe that he wasn't coming back was the exact moment an awful sound started to assault her ears. It was like someone had crossed the screech of an elephant with what you would expect a pterodactyl's screech to sound like. And over top that screeching was a sound like something out of a bad sci-fi movie, making her think of laser beams. That sound pulsed over and over. It drew her out of the house against her better judgement. By the time she'd reached the top of her porch stairs something was beginning to materialize out of that sound. She saw a flash of a blue shed type thing or maybe it was a telephone box, but it wouldn't stay solid for more than a moment. She closed her eyes and told herself that none of this was real. She was having a crazy dream, brought on by eating those leftovers spring rolls in her fridge. She knew they had been in there too long but she'd eaten them anyway. That's all this is, she thought. I'm dreaming and soon I'll wake up.
When she finally opened up her eyes, however, the blue box wasn't flashing in and out of sight anymore. It was solid and very real looking, parked in the middle of her lawn. She pinched the underside of her arm, though, just to be sure, and when she still didn't wake up she started laughing. She was going mad. Her laughter grew to hysterical levels when she saw the door of the box open and out walked the Doctor. At first he looked smug, as though he'd pulled off a particularly good parlor trick, but as he noticed the state Glenda was in he seemed to grow concerned. Glenda thought this was funny too and she collapsed on the top stair of her porch, clung to the porch railing and keened with hysterical laughter.
The Doctor approached her carefully, his hands out in front of him as though she were a wild animal he was trying to coax out of a fury. "Are you alright?" When she didn't answer him but kept on laughing he placed a hand on her shoulder and looked directly into her eyes. He searched them for a moment and then said, "Well, this is a first. Usually people are shocked of course, but --"
"Glenda and the Burning Bush!" It was hard for him to make out the words through her gasps between giggles. "Took my shoes off...And now there's a madman with a blue box..." Suddenly, she trailed off and her crazy laughter stopped. She met the Doctor's eyes and said, "I think there's something wrong with me."
As she said this her azalea bush burst into those dancing blue and white lights once more. They both whipped their heads around to stare at it. Glenda stood and started for it but the Doctor grabbed her by the hand and pulled her back. "No, no, no you don't!" He was much stronger than he looked and the force of his pull yanked her away from the burning bush and slammed her into his chest. She struggled but the Doctor put his arm around her waist and started to walk backward with her towards his blue box. "I think you're right, Glenda," he whispered in her ear. "Something is very wrong. I'm taking you into my ship. You'll be safe there. I promise."