Doctor Who Why Me?

Summary: Great, just great. Why me? I'm too old for this kind of...*clears throat* _Anyway_...why did it have to be that him? There are others of him I sure like a whole lot better, and why _now_? Why not when I was _young_? He's still going to wind up with me though, cuz I'm not where or when I should be. Or even where or when I was when I went to bed last night. Life is so very _strange_, sometimes.

* * *

_**Why Me?**_

* * *

I am _not _a young woman. I am not overly educated. I'm not slim and pretty or any kind of hero. In short, I'm not the sort of person who should really be here, but as any actual adult knows, 'should' and 'is'...yeah. You know how that works. First, while I have my trailer and my cats, I'm pretty sure that isn't in my trailer park. In fact, I know it's not. I should see some grass of a length that needs cutting, another, somewhat larger trailer with an asshole living in it, a few branches from a non-fruiting (irritating that) mulberry tree in front of a raggedy old stable or barn...whichever it is...and a few rows of self storage buildings along with a honeysuckle covered box wire fence nearby off to my left and a little tiny bit of a little chainlink fence down on the far end that I can see from my computer out the door.

_That's not what I'm looking at._ This is a big park, and while my trailer and vegetable filled pots are here, so is that mulberry tree...but not the old broken down barn. I see...and hear...a lot of very upset people outside and they're getting closer. Close enough that the indistinct murmur of voices have cleared to the point that even with my hearing, I can clearly detect _accents_.

_Fuck_. If I were at least in my nation of origin, I wouldn't hear one. And those sound very, very _English_: That could be good or bad, depending on who it is but I'm an American and from the South, solid Redneck, in other words. I tend to be a bit hard to get along with so whether we talk about all this _or _have a shouting match depends on if they give me a really good excuse to start cussing.

Unfortunately for these people, I'm _also _not particularly polite. I also have a very short, rather foul temper and it's _hair-triggered_.

* * *

"What the hell?" I looked up and saw what looked like a military version of a small caliber rifle...what, exactly is the point, in a military .22? I wondered, It was only good for small..._really _small deer...or maybe gophers, big ones. That wasn't the point, though. The point was that someone had just stuck the barrel of _some _sort of rifle into my door. Yeah, I ain't exactly the sort to put up with that sort of bullshit and I didn't care that it was a small bore.

"Boy, if you don't get that fancy pants deer rifle outta my trailer, first I'm gonna put a stop to it and after that, I'm gonna get a _strap _and tear your uniformed ass _up _with it. An' if I wear that out _afore _I get tired..._or bored_, well, there's lotsa bushes 'round these parts I can cut switches from. Decent folks _knock _on the door frame and say howdy _before _they go muzzle inward inta somebody's house."

The barrel quivered, then steadied and stayed where it was.

"Have it your way, _boy_." I picked up one of my bigger tomcats and tossed him on that soldier boy's head without warning. "Here's me puttin' a stop ta that gun-pokin',"

As expected, he dropped his gun's muzzle groundward and went to screaming in pain and trying to get that yellin', scratching, claw-rakin' cat off him with his free hand. I hollered at the cat as I kicked that man's fingers really hard to make him let loose of his gun altogether. That manchild dropped the rifle like it was a hot coal.

Old Bander, he just jumped from the soldierboy's head back into the trailer as I was coming out with a leather belt in one hand. My forefathers had kicked the British ass many times, warming the seat of this one's breeches didn't bother me _none_. Sure, getting down from the trailer leaning on a metal crutch ain't all that fast but folks tend to underestimate me and I didn't want him running off before I had a good oppotunity to make sitting down _painful _for that kid.

"What are you? Eighteen? Less? And you thought pointing a gun at _me _was bright?" I told him as I grabbed hold of one of his elbows and kicked the gun aside. Toldja to stop it, _didn't _I? Didn't _listen _didja? What I tell you I'd _do _if you didn't stop it on yer own, boy?"

_"Um_."

"Gonna whoop you real good, for not mindin' me _and _for being a run of the mill English _idiot_."

* * *

Kate Stewart wasn't happy with either the problem _or _the older woman's solution. When one of her non-coms had reported back that the strange, seemingly _human _woman in the battered old travel trailer that had just appeared out of nowhere, was apparently half crippled and had still managed to disarm and then take a strap to the unfortunate young 1st. Lt. whose group had been sent down there, despite leaning on a crutch, she'd just stared. Now, _true_, he should have backed off with the gun as soon as the occupant was shown to be an ill-tempered old woman, but wasn't that just a _bit _extreme?

Of course, the next person the woman ranted at, was _her_, and she accused the English military of some sort of vile plot that involved yanking people and their homes..._and pets_...out of their own towns and countries, in her case and over here. She wasn't anywhere near willing to calm down. Not even close, actually, she'd taken a switch to two more low grade officers and Sgt. Mackie when they further annoyed her. She didn't know what UNIT was or _care_, as far as Kate could tell.

Kate was pretty sure she'd never seen even the Doctor _this _angry.

_Speaking of whom..._

"Did he _answer _the space telegram?"

"Yes ma'am, says he's on his way in. He had to close the universal breech she was dragged in through before something _else_ went wrong."

"Good, he's _good _at calming people down. Then maybe he can find out what happened and how she _got _here."

"We finally got all the switches and belts out of her reach, Ma'am. Made things easier when she decided she was tired and dumped the Major out of _his _chair. _She just tipped him right over_."

"Well that's good...sort of. Not that she literally _dumped _him on the ground, but if she's starting to calm down, _that's _good. I had a feeling _I _was going to be next and she's got a _very _good aim."

"That she does Ma'am, that she does." The man paused. "The Americans say she _is _an American, has ID and all, but not a passport. She was chewing them out from comfort..._her's_...when I came over here...something about passports were for world travelers and _she'd_ never intended to leave the States and what did they think they thought they were doing, but the instrumentation _himself _left us says she's not from _this _reality. If she was moved while asleep...well, I supposed I'd be pretty angry too."

"So would I, Sgt...Mackie, is it?" Came a voice they both knew from behind the soldier. "Why are you _limping_?"

The soldier flushed and refused to answer.

"The woman is under the mistaken belief that both the Americans and ourselves were conducting _inadvisable_ 'experiments': We weren't, but she won't believe us. Maybe she'll listen to you. Did you go look at that instrument you set up, Doctor? She's already taken a strap to some of my men...as if they were merely unruly boys."

"Yes, I did. So, she's lost from her reality and thinks it's your fault, you English. And she's what? Spanked some of your people?"

"Yes Doctor. Quite literally. She's been yelling at us for at least two hours and called _me _names I refuse to repeat." She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "She's very, _very _good at the use of invective."

"I believe the representative from the consulate put it best...she's is massively _ticked off."_

"Okay, I'll see what I can do. She's likely going to have to come with me anyway, can't leave her out here like this, no telling what she'd attract."

* * *

Behind the English she saw a _familiar _shock of hair and then a shoulder covered with what looked like buckskin or brown leather. Maybe it was that she was apparently in England that had her thinking of _him_, but she shook off the thought. That wasn't real. This was real, though and she just _knew _some moronic politician had approved some idiot to run tests without finding out what the tests included first.

_Assholes_.

She stared at him when he moved forward through what she called 'billy big brass' and once she got a good look at him she started to cuss. Luridly, looking around for...

"I'm the Doctor."

"_Liar_. Can't you English at least come up with something _believable _instead of using charcters from television shows _known the world over? _Just when I thought you idiots couldn't get any dumber, you do. So, despite what you seemed to have convinced yourself of, you're just a guy, a man, normal...because the Doctor isn't real. Not _him_, he doesn't exist so, no matter what crazy thing you Brits have come up with, I ain't buyin' it, he's just a television charactor, so get lost." Was all she said, because she'd almost believed, for just one wild second...and it pissed her off again. _"Go on, David, get outta here."_

* * *

Returning to Kate's tent, he sighed, cocked his head, grumbled and scuffed one foot on the ground before looking up at Kate.

"I'll be right back. I need to go get the TARDIS. She'll never believe I'm me if I don't. Not from this reality, that one. Knows me and my ship from _television_. Fiction. So...I have to _prove _I'm me."

"Better have your lady pick this one's trailer up, it's got all kinds of biting insects in it, fleas, flies, mosquitos, even ticks and spiders." One of the orderlies to told the David Tennant look-alike.

"She warned us not to handle some of the biters, don't go handling the little black spiders. She says they are a really small form of black widow. The teeny ones are males, safe enough, but the bb sized fat ones are girls." Informed the orderly. "Best just use pesticides."

"Poisonous, then." The Tennant look-alike sighed.

"Apparently. And as far as I know they were still working on an antivenin. Newly emerging species, apparently." He answered but received only a nod from the Doctor who turned to go get the timeship and found himself speaking to the Brass' instead. He watched as, a few hundred meters away, the angry woman tuned his presence out, though he could hear her refer to him as The Disappointment before slapping the orderly who'd been trying to convince he was him. He sighed.

_She _was still clearly fuming.

* * *

The sound of...of _her_...was unmistakable. That the soldiers around me, the brass anyway, weren't surprised told me tons. The younger ones weren't surprised, but they didn't act like they'd see his TARDIS actually land and materialize before, either. When the groans first sounded, I froze, then moved up on the little wooden pallet that served as my porch without bothering to open the door. While Ten...well, _Eleven _really, if you count the War Doctor, and I do, _is by no means my favorite body_, he's still the Doctor. Besides, my biggest problem with him is that he doesn't use his brain as much as he used to...and I figured that if I could just manage to embarrass him in public often enough, he'd turn it back on and leave it on. Shouldn't take much to figure out, actually...and didn't actually have to ask questions.

The TARDIS did what we'd asked him to have her do and picked up the whole trailer, my potted plants and me standing on the porch, while at the same time landing. He wasn't in the cargo bay where I and my stuff...and my cats...appeared so I patted the wall and simply said, "Thank you, darlin'. For being _you _and therefore smarter than _he _is with a load more _common sense_, for a smooth pick up and putting up with my house cats." I opened the door to the trailer and tied it back so they could get in and out as they liked.

I picked up my crutch and leaned against the wall, "A nice, colored stripe on the wall...with directional arrows would be helpful. Don't expect much in the way of speed from _me_, though. Moving is slow and painful." I told her, though I was still trying to come to terms with her reality. Honestly? At this point, I had decided I was still _asleep_: But it was a _nice _dream and I'm pretty good at taking control of my dreams...so why not enjoy it?

* * *

The Doctor looked up and chuckled. "Thinks she's doing some lucid dreaming, does she? And we count as a _good _dream?" He sent the ship back into the vortex after picking up the woman and thought about it. "I'll take that, as it makes things easier for me, though I really have _no _idea why anyone would consider dreaming about _me _to be good." He paused, sensing that his timeline had just shunted away from one future and into one that was calmer, if odder. He knew it had something to do with the new human, but shook off the feeling as he felt the ship settle into drifting and went in search of his new guest.

An image of her rather slow and painful progress included the medbay door...she wasn't all that far away, really. All the stairs had disappeared from the corridors, though. She just _couldn't _manage them. He smiled sadly and headed in that direction, still amused at the conversations he knew UNIT UK was having by now. Her response to waking somewhere strange was embarrassing, to say the least. Not often a civilian took their highly trained people and turned them into scared lads trying to avoid a good thrashing.

He reached the medbay door, opened it to see an actual hospital bed instead of the usual gurney, then gestured her inside. "Let me help you."

She paused, "Only if you let me do the same. I ain't no good for running, but I got a good solid shoulder, anyway and you're more than welcome to use my common sense. Perhaps perspective is something you could also use."

"It's not safe for you to leave the TARDIS under most conditions, though there's places that are uninhabited or undiscovered that could be enjoyable."

"Twit, I don't _need _a tour. I don't need you showing off or trying to impress me. That's fine for the young girls, but I'm past the age when you need to do imitation Gorilla belly slaps. I left my fertile years behind a decade ago."

He laughed out loud at this. "Okay. What _do _you like?"

"Oh, nebula...observed at a safe distance through a window is fine, rather than explored, by the way. I am a calm sort, mostly. Quiet company is preferred, conversation is okay as long as it's not just filling air with sound just to make a noise. No need to yap like a Jack Russell."

"Sounds like I'll be in less trouble than usual."

I snorted. "I represent the start of something odd for you, you know."

"Really?" He got her settled on the exam table and ran some scans that saddened him as he gathered up medications and started a bag of saline to make it easier to administer them. "How did you get so many head traumas so young?"

"Traffic accidents, mostly. The other end is on the inside of my left knee and the outside right calf. There's nerves there which were damaged when I was nine, that have caused gout flare ups a few times."

"I _think _I can repair those. I have nanogenes for humans." He eyed the woman. "What are you that is _so _odd for me?"

"A _dependent_...and I don't mind at all."

"A dependent, instead of a companion."

"Well, a dependent could be both but most of my issues are genetically degenerative in nature. They'll come back, eventually. And then there's the fun of relearning how to walk without my crutches. Or get used to hearing or seeing things I've not heard or seen in years."

"Readjusting _could _be awkward."

"Yeah. So...what do I like? I like deserted beaches, safe ones where I can collect shells, coconuts and wild bananas and other things like papaya or starfruit or guava to make jam. I like gardens, safe plants please, cuz I like to plant things from seed and help them grow. I like to lay on my back somewhere comfortable and watch clouds pass overhead...try to pick out animal shapes in them. I like the 'natural' world, not the smart or the big things, but the small...patterns on petals or leaves, that kind of thing. Quiet joy, Doctor." I looked up at him. "And I think you could stand to learn what it is. So...let's stay on Earth and go to places without large or poisonous predators or people...let me get back to basics and take the Time to enjoy the wonders of creation itself. Will you let me?"

"What, just park on a beach and take the slow path?"

"For a while? Yes."

"Where?"

"Um, The Fort Myers, Florida in winter or autumn or Morehead City, North Carolina area in spring or summer, in the late 1950s, sparsely populated even now, really...wouldn't've been many people then I think. Settle above the spring tide high marks and make sure not to chose a year with a hurricane in it that is Cat three or higher. Little ones we can just shift further up the shore for. And your lady here...we'll need her shields to keep away alligators, crocodiles and sharks, sea snakes or other poisonous sea-life so we can go swimming in peace. Just don't put me anywhere near North Carolina from 1963 onward. I'd be born at that point and there's no sense tempting fate...or you, for that matter, by telling you what part of the state."

"Oi!" He protested. "I'm not _that _bad."

"No, not normally...but this you? Sorry, but you _are_." She looked away from him then, staring upward. "How about a predator, pirate and native free, undiscovered as yet, island in the South Pacific, big enough to explore, small enough not to exhaust myself in the heat, with all sort of tropical foods, from fish and shellfish to fruits. Somewhere isolated, after 1963."

"Oi. I'm over here."

"Yes, I _realize _that...but, I was talking to _her_." An upward pointing finger clarified this.

* * *

"Where did you get this?" He was gently holding up a DVD case.

"Did you get permission to ask me that?"

"You weren't kidding when you accused me of being an actor, were you?"

"Nope. Afraid not. Look at the bright side. At least you're no where near as...deliberately _thoughtless_...as he portrayed you. This is good because otherwise you'd've been a gross disappointment in this body, Eleven."

"Ten."

"War Doctor Counts."

His lips tightened. "_He_ wasn't a Doctor."

"Chemo and radiation as cancer treatments count: So yes, he counts as a Doctor, too. But that isn't why I counted him. Has absolutely nothing to do with it actually."

"Really? Care to share?"

"You expended the energy, yes? It's gone? He counts."

"Yeah, by that measure, he _counts_." The Doctor blew out a breath on a heavy sigh. "Okay. _Eleven_."

"You're a little scary when you, _of all people,_ screw up math that simple. Glad to see you can count in doubled digits again."

He froze at the sheer audacity of the insult, "_Weeeell_, you sure don't pull any punches, do you?"

"Well, a Time Lord that forgets how to count in numbers fewer than twenty, is a little terrifying, really. That's why I was about to ask the TARDIS to make sure to check behind your figuring to make sure you hadn't messed up something simple, but with major repercussions..._and not noticed_."

He gaped at me.

"What, you thought I'd do it myself? Hell no. I can't even handle really simple addition without messing up...but then I'm not trying to do that kind of math, either. Nor do I want to."

"I haven't had one on board like you since Tegan."

"Whom you adored."

He blew out a sigh and let his head drop. "I'm _so_ screwed."

_**"Possibly."**_

_**~*~ TBC ~*~**_


End file.

Doctor Who, Drama, Humor