Who: Amy Pond, Castiel, The Doctor (and more?) Where: New York Public Library, Main Branch When: Wednesday afternoon What: Lost and Found Rating: TBD
Amy spent hours every day at the library. Not doing research on how to blend in to 1960s America, nor on how to find a way out. No, Amy spent her time at the library curled up in an armchair, a pencil tightly gripped in her fist (sometimes so tightly that it snapped in half), and staring at pieces of paper pinned to a cork board on the wall.
She'd first noticed the bulletin boards the morning after she'd arrived, hung in the lobby of the hotel where she'd spent the night. Writing would appear from nowhere, and then more writing would follow in a different hand. It didn't take her long to understand it for what it was: some kind of citywide instant communication technology-- that obviously didn't belong here. She'd been to America in 1969, and if they'd had this technology five years before, she would have seen it then. At first she'd taken interest in them because the Doctor would have taken interest. But soon she saw how she could use them to her advantage. She couldn't search the whole city over for the TARDIS, but if she sent a message-- an advert in a papershop window, as it were-- she'd have more eyes to help her search.
Rather than park herself in front of the board in the lobby, she'd asked the concierge where she could find more of these boards. He'd directed her to the Public Library, a few blocks away in Bryant Park, where she'd secured herself a small study room with its own bulletin board. Thinking carefully about what to say, she'd written her request down on a piece of paper, then pinned it to the board. Miraculously, she didn't have to wait long before responses appeared, from people who had or hadn't seen or heard of the "big blue box" she'd said she was looking for. Some of the replies surprised her-- it sounded like there were people in the city who knew the Doctor, but not the same Doctor she knew. She wondered if he'd spent time in America in his previous lives.
So Amy began spending her time at the library. She pulled the armchair up in front of the board so she didn't have to pace back and forth waiting for the next reply. When the janitor came at closing time, she made him promise not to touch anything, saying "I'll be back in the morning, and I want ev-ry-thing as it was, got it?"
Days later, one person who Amy'd initially found confusing and entirely unhelpful ended up surprising her. He said he'd found the Doctor. Unending joy and shattering doubt filled Amy. She bombarded the man with specific questions; she had to know if he was telling the truth. When he answered everything correct, down to the fish custard, Amy knew her problems were solved.
"After days of waitin'," she elated to the empty room, 'finally, result!"
Suddenly, she felt a brief blow of wind and heard a ruffle of feathers, and then, when Amy turned around, the room wasn't empty anymore.