~Brilliance~

Aliens were hardly the worst of my concerns, even if they were nude nightmares trying to take over the world. I do believe that it was actually a walk in the park compared to everything else.

My mind flicked through torn and shattered memories the way one turns through a magazine - that is, without much care.  And this being my situation, I paid no mind the plastic arm that I was still holding until I reached home.   Well, Lucille's home and my house. Before attempting the many stairs, my eyes found a large bin and I realised Lucille would ask questions I didn't want to answer, so I did the logical thing and threw it into the arm into the bin.

I sheepishly opened the door to the flat, and almost wished I hadn't.
Lucille looked like she had swallowed a hive of bees that were trying to dance the gavotte in her stomach - a sight I would gladly go my whole life without seeing again.

She brought out the lungs I knew she was most capable of using and gave me the most stern telling off that I had ever received, the type that left both emotional AND automatic Aria shaking.

It was lovely to hear that she cared enough for me to be concerned, but again, it was hitting chords of a song I didn't want to play. A song that I knew would end far too quickly.

I allowed Lucille to throw her harsh (but nonetheless most welcome) words and thinly veiled threats to slap me to the grave if this situation occurred again - which left me very confused, as at this specific point in time I had no clue about the 'accident'.

Once her tirade had finished, she was reduced to a sobbing pile of pink velour as she explained to me just how much she was worried and I felt bad. It wasn't as though I was so incredibly late, but when I asked about her concern, she merely turned on the television.

~Brilliance~

"Here with all the current information, back to Mallory at the scene."

The news reader cut to the reporter standing by a building that was very clearly on fire.

"Thank you Greg. As far as the authorities know, the explosion seems to have been caused by a leaking gas pipe and exposed wires, although the Fire Department claims the fire shouldn't have caused such a large explosion. The Department also would like to remind anyone owning an older building to remain vigilant. Witnesses say that the fire started a little past 8:15, thankfully after all the retail workers had gone home."

The scene cut to a badly shot video of what was most definitely the grey stones of Gleesons very much on fire. The top floors were nothing more than a burning metal skeleton and sparking wires - it was not, in any way, shape or form, what it had looked like when I had left. Not one bit.

"The Department of Health and Safety have declined to comment at the moment, although we expect one by tomorrow morning. No one seems to have been injured in this devastating explosion, however it is unlikely that the building will be put back into use for a long while. Back to you in the studio."

He. Blew. It. Up.

"And now, is the Minister for Defence an alien? Francis-"

If the Doctor turned out to be who I already knew he was, he had hell to pay. Nay, he had far more than that on his plate when I released angry emotional Aria and perhaps an angry Lucille, but I had yet to decide if it was too painful to bring her into the mix.

It was no wonder why Lucille was concerned.

~Brilliance~

I swear on my Agatha Christie collection that I had no idea he was going to blow the BUILDING UP!!

I stayed awake and comforted dear Lucille until late, her tears leaving stains on my slightly dust covered work clothes. When she eventually went to sleep, I collapsed. It's at times like this when I really feel out of sorts - when all the little things are going on around me. Should I try to look closely at them, as though under a microscope, they disappear because I have spent too long admiring from afar.

Once I had made sure that the crazy woman I had the honour of calling my 'mum' was in bed, I grabbed my keys, coat and a bit of chocolate before making my way up to the roof. I lay back comfortably on the chilly concrete roof and gazed at the stars that only dreamers wished they could touch. When my back started to ache, at what my watch told me was 2am, I headed back inside as quietly as I could, my thoughts whirling.

Little Bird, future, past, somewhere sideways, I still can't help but ponder the what ifs...
What would it have been like if we had kept quiet, if we hadn't asked for the stars and been given the universe... what if, what if...
It never does anyone any good.

But regardless of philosophical questions, I went to sleep and woke up as per my normal routine, and started to make a nice apology breakfast for Lucille.
By nice, I mean something that I could make without blowing our middle-to-lower class family budget for the week. The only thing that I could realistically make, with such barriers in place, was scrambled eggs with toast.
A breakfast fit for royalty, that Lucille seemed to enjoy.

She was acting as happy as a stressed woman could be, but I quickly caught on to her dampening mood. The job.
She was incredibly proud of me for both having a job in the city and managing to keep it, so the situation she now found me in really sent her back down to earth (in none to subtle a fashion). She began suggesting jobs and is, as of this very moment, quite insistent that I work at the butchers or someplace to that extent.
While the pay is good, I would much rather not work in an environment such as I would find working there. Perhaps when I get back (should I decide to stay with Lucille), there will be a better job opportunity waiting for me.

Lucille left at 8am with the intentions of getting me compensation for what happened, but I highly doubted she would get far. An older natural blonde trying to talk to the police in her obnoxious pink track suit was bound to go down well.

Once I had bid her fairwell with a quick hug, it was just me in the flat.
Absentmindedly playing with a piece of my hair, a thought occurred to me, concerning a China bowl and a ring.
You know the bowl and ring I am referring to, I (boldly) assume. I won't write it down again, just on the off chance that this book gets found.

I proceeded to unlock the dresser draw and pushed through the bits and bobs before I found what I was looking for.
I'm only now realising what a stupid mistake it was to put the bloody necklace on, regardless of how pretty it might have the looked. That stupid necklace with the stupid ring containing that STUPID DIAMOND. But no, emotional Aria, always facing your problems upside down and in the wrong language. (Little Bird reading this, don't you roll your eyes at me, that was not "JUST ONE TIME" ... it happened twice. In succession.)

Armed with the necklace and a large collection of unanswered questions, I headed to the dining table to try and begin writing what was going to be this entry. Obviously I didn't get that far.
I had only just got my pen out when I heard the sound of the cat flap rattling - something it should not have been doing.
Lucille nai led it shut months back, when a stray kindly decided to urinate on the sofa.
The stench is one that does not go away with time, and our new sofa was proof of that.

Ever the lady (oh, I'm hilarious), I got down on my hands and knees, moving to the door with the intentions of scaring the cat away, but when I got there it was a different story all together.
Neatly surrounding the door were the screws that had previously held it shut, and as any person faced with an obvious truth, I was slightly put out.

The oddly pitched buzzing coming from the other side of the door pushed the boundaries of my inquisitive nature, and so I can rationalise that as the reason I stuck my hand into the flap to open it.
Only to be greeted with two peircing blue eyes.

~Brilliance~

What. The. Hel.
I hurrriedly stood and wrenched the door open, pointing an accurastory finger at the man on the other side.

"What are you doing here?"

"Uh... chasing more of those plastic... uh... things." He hesitated before seemingly gathering his wits and becoming angry at me. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here!"

Taking a step back, he glanced over me before answering, slapping a half smile on his face as he did so. "And you're not plastic?"

"Doctor. Do. I. Look. Like I am plastic?"

"No?"

"That's because I'm NOT, you plum."

His mouth fell open, "Did you just call me a plum?"

"Yes."

The Doctor smiled a little before his grin completely slid off his face. He looked down at the instrument (the one I assumed to have been making the buzzing) and gave it a hard tap on his hand.

"Mustn't be working. Are you sure?" He reached forward and tapped on my forehead. "Yup, definitely not plastic."

My eyes found themselves gently glaring at him, before my body started to drag him into the flat. I pushed him a little further into the small house (a stunned look still plastered on his face), and slammed the door behind me.

"What a nice house. You live here?"

"Don't mock me."

"I wasn't." He held up his hands innocently as he walked over to the sofa, sitting down, triggering what I have dubbed as my 'tea gene'.

"You want a cuppa?"

The Doctor shot me a look of surprise before he schooled it into one of indifference, "black, two sugars thanks."

I smiled at him before walking into the kitchen and grabbing my floral cup and an ugly blue one for him. I set about the tea making process (the 21st century way, which was sadly only the third easiest), but from the open doorway I could hear quiet comments that had the nasty habit of putting me on edge.

I had almost finished the hardly-sacred London tea process when I heard him comment on his own appearance.

~Brilliance~

Were this under any other circumstances, I'm sure I would have let the comments slide from my memory, but as this isn't and what he said was quite paramount, it is worth noting.

A near silent, "Not bad, not bad at all. But take a look at the ears! I thought I had them bad before."

Oh Doctor.

~Brilliance~

Praying to whoever the hell was listening, I hoped against hope that this idiotic man wasn't going to be who I knew he already was.

"Tea's done."

"Oh, thanks." The Doctor popped his hand and face into the kitchen, snagging the ugly blue cup and carefully walking back to the sofa, where he sat down with a plop - somehow managing to not spill the tea (a skill I have yet to acquire).

Following him at a pace acceptable when one is carrying tea, my burning questions finally got the better of me. "Why'd you ask if I was plastic?" Sitting down in a single seat, I cut his answer off, "Did blowing up my job not finish yours?"

"Uh, not exactly. I only asked cause I've been getting all sorts of weird signals since last night and they seem to be coming from here. Why'd you ask?"

I sighed, a tiny bit of anger lodging itself in my throat. "Because I want to know if you're just being an ass or if you genuinely want to save the world. It's a rather fine line, you see, between saving the world and blowing stuff up for fun."

He scoffed at my words, sending me a degrading look. "Oh please, it's hardly a fine line."

"Well, it is if you're being an ass about it."

"Touché, Aria Phillips. Touché."

We sipped our tea quietly as a few beats of awkward silence passed between us, only breaking it when all hell was set free.

~Brilliance~

Little bird, you remember when I mentioned throwing the arm out? Apparently I didn't throw it hard enough.
That evil little plastic piece of -

Yeah, so I didn't throw it hard or FAR enough, it turned out.

~Brilliance~

I finished my sip of tea and was about to put it onto the coffee table (why not a tea table? I put tea filled cups on it far more often than I do coffee) in preperation to converse with my guest, when that stupid arm latched onto my face and started trying to... I don't really know. Choke me? Suffocate me? Poke my eyeballs out?
Who knows. As I had already made definite note of, the plastic didn't really have the best manoeuvrability.

"Bloody- Hang on Aria!" The Doctor leapt into action, I think wielding the sonic device (as I had decided in it being), and in doing so broke the coffee table.

We struggled for 1 minute and 43 seconds exactly before the Doctor managed to rip the hand off my face, allowing my a lovely breath of fresh London air.

"Thanks."

"All-" he was cut off abruptly when the plastic hand (naturally, part of the plastic arm) attached itself to his neck, and I could tell that this time it was going for the kill.

"Constipated Christie!"

I started pulling on the arm with all of my human strength, which moved it very little. The Doctor tried to point the sonic... pen? Mutilated spatula? Stick? Screwdriver? Chopstick? Thermometer? Whatever it was called, he tried to point it at the plastic, which did nothing as he couldn't reach the button.

Ripping it from his grasp, I pointed the whatever at the plastic and pressed down the button, almost immediately stopping whatever animation (Reanimation?) that had caused it to move.

The Doctor took a short, shaking breath and nodded his thanks as he pulled the stilled hand off his neck.

It was quiet in the flat for a few minutes, both of us seemingly catching our breaths (not that I really needed to), before the Doctor probed the silence.

"Thanks for that."

"All good. That's what you've been trying to find?"

He nodded a simple, "Yup."

Maybe this wasn't the best time. I wouldn't want to leave Lucille after such a situation as yesterday, and the time I was spending with my friends from work - Brooke and Felicity - it was quiet a lot of fun, if I was being honest with myself. I didn't need to leave just now, I had time. I had all the time I could ever ask for.  "And there's no other reason for you being here now?"

"Seems so, yeah."

"Ok."

I must have shifted in my seat, perhaps straightening up or moving my arm slightly, I can't recall exactly what I did, but whatever it was, it caused the Doctor to clear his throat and stand up.

His hands busily dusted himself of as he moved towards the door, ignoring the degree that once was a coffee table. My body moved faster than my mind (an improvement for the time being), and it wasn't until I had reached the front door that I realised what I had done.

"And where are you going?" My voice was strong, and was only the slightest bit rushed, "you didn't even say goodbye."

"Uh... I'm going... out?"

"Doctor, this is my... well, that was my house. You cant just decide to come in a break my table and chinaware."

The doctor shot me a look, "If I'm remembering correctly, and I am, you pulled me into your flat. I didn't decide to come in."

"Be that as it may," my face heated up as I realised how royally I might have screwed myself over, "you're in my house now."

"Yup, but now I'm leaving." He either didn't notice my face or was ignoring it, but whatever he was doing was really hurting his chances of not being slapped.

His words sunk in, thier meaning rather lost. "What?"

By this time, he had opened the door and was walking briskly down the stairs that lead to a nearby park. Stupidly enough, I followed him and continued to half heartedly ask what the hell he was doing, to which I was given a speil on how he knows things that I couldn't even dream of knowing.

What a cock.

"-now forget me, Aria Phillips." He waved his hand in front of my face, which served only to make him look like more of an idiot, before turning and running to a blue... was that a telephone box?

Dear Christie, what had I gotten myself into?

I turned to leave when the doctor closed the door behind him, only to whirl back around again when I heard a noise that I recognised all too well.

Oh. No.

~Brilliance~

~
3000 words

Ok. So I kinda lied.
This chapter is not the last of this episode, as I apparently write far too much (by that I mean I procrastinate and write poems instead of story chapters).
This episode will probably be about 3-4 chapters in total, but I won't be able to update again until November.
I hope that you guys (if there is anyone actually reading this) like this! Xx

- MallaHarkness04