The Universe's Mixer

Amy had a forty minute wait in the ER before one of the clinic doctors was able to see her. During that time she called the Doctor, who she was pretty sure did not mend broken arms.

"Do you ever answer your messages?" she started with an annoyed lecture, trying to balance a gossip magazine in her lap, turning pages with her good arm, while holding the injured arm in the air. She felt a bit sheepish. "I broke my arm and I'm not sure if socialized medicine has caught on here or not. If you don't mind bringing money or some psychic paper with health insurance on it? Maybe? Yeah? You know, if you're not too busy ignoring my messages?"

She hung up.

After waiting she was led into a small examination room. Then there was another fifteen minute wait for the nurse. Another twenty minute wait for the doctor after that. Because she was bit by a strange animal, there were shots. The needles were quite large, but Amy did her best to look away and ignore them. Then more waiting. Then x-rays. Waiting. Then the cast.

As the day progressed, Amy started to feel irritated. And itchy. Sitting down or concentrating became harder. Everything smelled. Even the blood from her shirt -- very thick, metallic and tangy.

"Can dog bites cause migraines? Would rabies cause a migraine? Could I have someone not wearing perfume putting the cast on, thanks? You're giving me a headache," Amy snapped at the nurse. The nurse decided it was as good excuse as any to leave her in someone else's care and left. Amy sighed. She opened up the door from the examine room and peeked down the hall.

The zoo had been a problem. Inside of the zoo, he'd not been able to do much of anything. The cage they had given him had been large, but very open. Not a whole lot to hide behind. Still, they'd fed him and kept him clean. Given him toys and companions. Not that the companions had wanted to have much to do with him. He was too big. They thought he would hurt them.

When the cage door had been left open, there was no way he could possibly let that pass by without at least trying to get out. It had worked, to his amazement. He slipped out of the cage and straight out of the zoo without anybody seeing him. His heart had been hammering against his chest, he'd been panting. He'd been so sure that somebody would not only spot him, but try to take him down with something a little rougher than tranquilizers.

He'd run to the shadows, first, and then followed his nose to trees. Trees, and grass, flowers, nature. It had turned out to be the park. Not exactly what he'd been hoping for. He'd wanted to make it all the way out of the city and into the forest, where he knew he'd be safe. But once in the park, he couldn't seem to find his way out of it. Scared, lost, angry, he'd shifted.

The form he had as a man was dark like his fur. The hair a rich black, the eyes pools of deep brown. He hadn't had any clothes, of course. He'd not worn clothes in a good long time. Since before the zoo. And certainly not in the zoo. He'd never even transformed there. Didn't want to risk somebody seeing what he was. Making a bigger spectacle of him. He hardly remembered clothes at all.

There had been some running around in the park, trying to find things to eat. Stealing from picnics and rooting through the trash can. He'd been gone from human civilization for far too long, words stuck in his mind and he couldn't make his throat form them. He grunted at the people he saw and ran away. He'd found a small cave in the heart of the park and made his home there, lining it with grass and a stolen picnic blanket. He became a wolf again to sleep, it was safer for everybody.

This morning he was just coming out, stretching and enjoying the warmth of the sun on his dark fur. Yesterday, he had seen the people on the television talking about him. They had not put the nude human and the wolf together yet. Which made him smile. Almost puppy like, he grinned at the world, his tongue lolling out. He needed to seek out food.

Amy Pond brewed her own trouble.

While the Doctor busied himself being Doctor-y, Amy decided to explore. Vampire Bars had only been the start. The City had plenty more to offer. There had been the library, but Amy found it much quicker to interrogate the librarians than to read the books themselves. A short skirt, a winning smile and there was no telling what a poor civil servant might research for you.

There were a few places that always existed since the history of The City. Although the history didn't make much sense Amy decided the places that had always existed might be important in some way. There'd been the museum, the botanical gardens. She finally settled on the hospital.

As a former kissogram, Amy had no qualms about dressing up in costumes. As a troublesome redhead she had no qualms about taking someone's lab coat. She also put a stethoscope over her shoulders just for good measure. With the heels, the pencil skirt and low cut blouse, Amy Pond was ready to snoop where she didn't belong.

From one of the nurse's stations she grabbed a clip board. There was nothing important on it, as far as Amy could tell, just some sort of medical release permission form that most patients were required to fill out. Holding the clip board, however, gave Amy an air of authority, provided that she hide what was on the clip board.

She opened doors, looked through windows, and even went through empty doctor's offices. Anything that wasn't locked or bolted down was examined. So far? Nothing. So Amy helped herself into the next room, a laboratory with impressive looking equipment. It was new, spotless and a bit sparse.

"Ooh. What do we have here?"

Help yourself, Amy Pond.

It was hard for Eric to not be happy. In the strange way of things that tended to make a vampire happy, Eric had plenty going on. He had his bar here, and it was doing fantastically, he had many prospects with Baba Yaga that gave him pleasure on many different levels. He was finding his way about the City, and discovering it's lack of vampire laws to be freeing. He'd met a vampire who he'd thought at first he'd enjoy killing, but found out he enjoyed talking to. Plus he had his little human, Fred. What a good little human she was, too. He knew where she was, what she was feeling. And the next time they saw one another, she'd feel mighty infatuated with him. His very nearness would make her feel safe. It was the false safety that gave him the biggest smile. He also wondered how her dreams were.

He was taking a night off from Fangtasia, he decided he didn't need to be there so much right now. He had his vampire dancers, and those were enough to keep the humans of this place enchanted. Seeing him was a special gift that they clamored for, and he thought the less they got, the better it would be for business. Just when they gave up on ever seeing him, he'd waltz in and sit with them.

There had been a leaflet in the City's newspaper talking about the library's expansion. He'd always found interest in museums. Sometimes he even found something of his own in them. He didn't know if this place would be the same way, but he wanted to go and see what was there on offer.

One other person had apparently the same idea as he did. Eric recognized the smell, and he approached the little redhead quietly. When he was directly behind her, he inhaled.

"Amy Pond." His voice was slithery and deep, like velvet. He'd done it on purpose, of course.

Amy Pond was harassing a lamppost. Or rather, a strange bit of technology that was attached to said lamppost.

"Okay. This one is on. Are you sure you're not getting any signal?" With her obviously Scottish accent the young twenty-something year old appeared to speak to no one in particular. It wasn't until she brushed back long red hair over her shoulder with blue painted fingernails one could notice the earpiece. There was a sigh.

"Doctor? Are you there? I said it's on. It's working. Are you there, Doctor?" Apparently she was in some sort of technological dead zone. The TARDIS wasn't picking up signal from either her earpiece or the piece of timey-wimey alien technology. Pulling out her earpiece Amy scolded it, "I really hate you."

She had until then she'd seemed almost normal compared to the madness of The City with it's shifting streets, vampires and unassuming police call boxes that were really alien time traveling space ships. Occasionally people walked past Amy or there would be a car, but for the most part her work was ignored. The City natives got under her skin. Like zombies that didn't eat brains - which somehow made them a little more unnatural.

Amy pocketed the ear piece. The street corner had already changed on her.

"Great. Now I'm lost again."

It wasn’t until her third encounter with the special edition personal ads that Amy finally bothered to read them. She recognized one immediately, assuming he’d written it to find her and possibly even spread them around himself. The Doctor was always doing brilliant things like that. Sure it was silly, and he was probably going to get a lot of messages he hadn’t intended but he’d found a way to communicate with his companion.

It made perfect sense to her. There was another personal ad she hadn’t recognized, though she have. It’d been written for her. But as of yet no one had replied to it.

She wasted no time leaving the following message: “Doctor!? I really hope this is you and this is not some other Space Gandalf. If it isn't you just ignore this. Sorry. But if it is please, please, please call me back. 555-551-5527!”

The rest of the time was spent waiting. And waiting. And staring. ( An hour felt like several when you had nothing else to pass the time. )

Amy had found a quaint little hostel which catered to new arrivals. Until she had income she would have a bed to sleep on, a place to shower, laundry food to eat and employment opportunities shoved down her throat. Specifically kiss-o-gram jobs. How did the City have so many openings for kiss-o-grams? Couldn't they have a nice bicycle messenger position available instead?

Amy wasn't that desperate yet. The food at the hostel was terrible (cheap mac and cheese or ramen) but Amy wasn't desperate enough yet. Instead she decided to hit the street and explore. How could she resist going into a bar named Fangtasia?

After showing the girl at the front door her ID, Amy just barely of age to be in the establishment, looked around with a surprised expression on her face. She felt very inappropriately dressed-- particularly because she wore color. She'd never seen so much black and leather. She smirked despite herself. Vampire themed bar? Really?

"...Vampires aren't real," she said to herself. Walking to the bar she ordered a water. When the bartender gave her a look, Amy was quick to lie: "Designated driver." Despite the fact she'd come in by herself. But Amy was could be clever and at least this way she wouldn't get dirty looks for being broke. She hoped.

Amy had been in The City for days now. That alone wouldn't have bothered her except...

Well, she needed money and a place to stay. If The Doctor was going to rescue her why hadn't he shown himself by now? Why hadn't he gone back through time and left her with helpful notes or money? No one told her to come along. Not once. Sure, she'd met a few people who were helpful-- some more sympathetic than others-- but everything she'd learned so far.

...What if she was trapped in a vortex? What if the TARDIS fell into a vortex and now the Doctor was trapped in Colchester, her time? Amy was afraid though she wasn't sure if it was for herself or the Doctor. Would he have to live the rest of his life pretending to be human? It wouldn't be a terrible loss for herself. Amy didn't leave anyone behind, really. No real family to speak of. A few friends. She could start over here. As far as vortexes went she could have ended up somewhere far worse.

Sitting at the front counter in Dur Waffle House it took Amy a few moments to realize the waitress had been waiting for an order.

"I'll take the banana split waffle," she finally spoke, sheepishly. The irony being that Amy was going to have to figure out how to run when it came time to paying the bill. She'd checked her pockets. No cash to speak of and the currency wouldn't have been any good here. She didn't fancy sleeping on park benches, either.

What if she had to go back to earning her keep as a kiss-o-gram?

She didn't even have the police girl outfit anymore. Or the nun's.

Amy Pond was too hungry and tired to think but at least there would be waffles.

Fire -- fire through his veins, through his chest, down his arm -- fire dropped him to his knees, then further. Further, down to the unyielding stone floor, the cold and damp bedrock that had never been coated with a civilized floor. He gasped air but couldn't breathe. His heart had never been strong. The opium. He could blame the opium, but he never would have given it up. He always knew... He always knew... The cellars, his agonied thoughts whispered, would be his sepulcher; the Opera House would be his mausoleum.

---

There was no transition. One minute, he lay face-down in the 11th cellar of the Paris Opera house, was sure his heart was ready to burst. The next, he was flat on his back with the warm sunshine on his face -- and how long had it been since he felt that -- with no pain whatsoever in his chest. His first thought was Heaven?... But laughter, short, derisive, bubbled from his lips a moment after the thought populated. There could be no heaven for creatures like himself. The next, then, was sheer and utter panic. He was outside. In the day. And --

A pale hand slapped at his face. No mask. No mask! Again, no transition. He was on his feet, hand slapped firmly over the ruined half of his face, looking frantically for some sort of shelter, only --

Only.

He stopped. Everything stopped. What used to feel like slick, poreless ice under his hand was now warm and ... normal. Nothing disfigured... nothing scarred... Hesitantly, Erik ran his hand over what used to be a wreck of a face and found only what every other person would have found: a face.

Slowly, he dropped his hand from where he'd been pressing it. What in the world had just happened? His eyes were adjusting to the light. He was in a field. No. It was a park. He was in a park. There was a squat, ugly bench beside a smooth walkway. And behind the gates of the park, a strange City. He squinted. Every instinct told him to take cover; every shred of logic told him that he needed to find out what had happened and where he was. For the moment, he sat down. And then, reverently, touched his once-ruined cheek again.

Where am I?

"DOCTOR."

Even when Amy wasn't yelling her voice sometimes reached impressive decibels, drawing out the alien's title like a referee's whistle. The TARDIS continued to shake while sparks flew from the control panel. Gears made a grinding sound as if on a loop, the familiar wvorp! wvorp! of an alien time machine trying to land.

Amy held on to the handle bars positioned just below a monitor for dear life. If she were in a car, the equivalent would have been the dry cleaning bar located above the door, sometimes affectionately called the "oh shit handle." But Amy didn't curse, she much preferred to wail. She waited for the frightening shudder of the alien machinery to pass before doing so.

"Doctor? The numbers are gone. What does that mean? The monitor doesn't have the ...Doctor? Are you listening to me? DOCTOR."

With shaky fingers she reluctantly let go of the monitor's handle bars, waiting for her legs to solidly support her weight again. It didn't take long. She straighten out her blue jacket, tugged down on her green top and adjusted her leggings. By the time she'd finished nervous primping she noticed that the TARDIS's parking break sound had finally stopped.

"I think it finally landed. Are you going to answer me, Doctor?" Amy glared at the intercom as if he might somehow feel how annoyed she was. "Well fine then! I just better not be in that.. vortexy.. vortex.. thing.. you mentioned. Alright. I've been cooped in here long enough. You can't stop me if you won't speak to me. Well... Right then. Off I go. I'm going right now, Doctor."

The silence started to scare. Just a small amount. Maybe more, but Amy Pond was too upset by the situation to let anyone know it. "I'm leaving you a note! You better come find me!" Amy looked around the TARDIS console and found one of the Doctor's tweed jackets. Why he needed more than one-- or any, really-- was beyond her. She searched his pockets for a pen but found a small velvety jewelry box instead. Being nosey, she of course opened it.

It was a diamond ring.

She tried the ring on. It fit.

Amy quickly removed the ring and shoved it back into the Doctor's jacket pocket. Better to act as though she'd never seen it. At least for now. One red pen and a post-it note later slapped over a blank TARDIS monitor and Amy was out the white double doors. The note read simply: Answer when I'm talking to you! Gone out. Love, Amy.

From The City's perspective it looked as though a funny noise preceded the materialization of a strange blue box with the words POLICE CALL BOX illuminated over the doors. Only moments later did a young, red haired woman step out. Of course without a key she'd be locked out, but then Amy had assumed the Doctor was somewhere nearby.

At least until she noticed her surroundings.

"Nope. Definitely not Colchester." Her expression sobered accordingly.