The Heart Collector: The Golden Friend

The Golden Friend

That bitch! Emma threw down her bag on the floor in her shared kitchen with her new best friend, Mary Blanchard.  The school teacher in Storybrooke. A little seaside town in Maine.  The town where her long lost son lived.  The reason why she was here.  Humphing with displeasure Emma rolled her eyes as she grabbed her IPOD and turned the volume to full blast as she sat down and closed her eyes taking a few deep breaths as she did so.  There was no one available to talk to as her roommate was engaged in extra-curricular activities.  Extra-curricular meaning taking a long walk in the forest surrounding the northern end of the town in an attempt to try and forget about David Nolan.  

That was also the so-called Mayor’s fault too.  That still puzzled Emma. Why did Regina not reunite husband with wife sooner? Why did she have to wait until he woke up from his ten year long coma before … with a small sardonic twist of the lips Emma thought of the curse that Henry believed in.  A curse that made all the people in the town forget who they truly were.

Thank goodness she was rational. Emma had seen too much of real life to believe in fairy stories, particularly those that ended in: And they lived happily ever after.  Yeah, sure!  As she was thinking about food the ring from the door forced her to switch back on as Acting Sheriff.  With a deep sigh and a little squaring of shoulders and back straight, she opened the door.

Oh brilliant!

“Hello, Miss Swan,” the man smiled.

“Mr Gold,” she said.

“May I come in?”

Always well turned out in sharp suits of either charcoal, dark blue or black.  Silk ties with dazzling patterns that seemed to twist with the light.  Beautifully pressed shirts of a variety of colours and his suave, silver topped cane finished the elegance of the man.  

Turning to her side she waved her arm up: “Come in,” she said.  “There’s no one here.”

“Have you had dinner yet?” He asked as he walked to the music station and switched the din off, “do you really listen to that racket?”

“No, I have not had dinner yet,” Emma sighed, “and yes, it gets rid of my hang ups for me.”

“Would you care to join me for a rapacious repast?”

It was the quiet Scottish accent that threw Emma off.  Then again the previous Sheriff was Irish.  “Are you seriously asking me out?”

Mr Gold stood the other side of the kitchen counter and gazed at the woman before him.  Beautiful if a bit harsh in some of her expressions.  Sexy though.  Always wearing those vest tops that accentuated her curvacious figure.  Dating her would be a spit in Regina’s eyes, he thought, and a dagger in her back.  The thought of a dagger with some oriental, ornate handle sticking between The Mayor’s shoulder blades caused Mr Gold’s smile to almost reach his ears.

“Well,” he tilted his head impishly and smiled again.  The twinkle in his eye was unmistakable to Emma.  “Do you have anything better to do?” Mr Gold glanced around the house: “Our illustrious school mistress is absent from your home, I notice,” Emma folded her arms and tilted her chin up with some sort of defiance, that made Mr Gold almost respect her. Sometimes he liked it a little too much when someone stood up to him. Emma was a strong capable woman. Definitely one that is the best foil for the Mayor. Mr Gold blessed the day that Henry discovered his mother. “You are alone, I am also without companionship,” he hobbled around the counter to stand directly opposite her and leaned on his cane, “well, do we have a date?”

“They do say misery loves company,” Emma sighed.  “But on no circumstances whatsoever is this a date!”

“Fine then,” he proffered her his arm from the good side, “we’re two mutuals that decided to eat at the same time, in the same place, at the same table.”

Emma picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder: “Let’s go,” she sighed.

“I hope you are settling in nicely, Miss Swan,” he said opening the door for her.  The twist of the lips actually reached his eyes this time, “Miss Blanchard was very kind and altruistic offering you a place to stay.”

“No one else seemed interested in giving me a roof over my head.”

“I would have had to have known you a little more,” Mr Gold closed the door behind him.  Good job it was one that automatically locked itself.

“I would have had to be sleeping in cardboard boxes before I accepted a roof over my head from you.”

“Oh, believe me, Miss Swan,” Mr Gold’s cheeky dimples deepened along with that strange glint in his bright eyes, “I am not your enemy here. There is no law against us being friends, you know.”

Every time he was near her, Emma’s senses tingled with electricity, and not the sort that made her comfortable. There was a lie behind every single smile he gave and yet she could not detect what that lie was. It threw her senses all off! Since she entered Storybrooke her powers to define deceit seemed to zigzag through her neural maze rather than go through a straight line to the core. If she told Henry this he would just say that it was part of the curse!

♥x♥x♥x♥x♥

Sitting on the chair in the control room Nyssa observed the Doctor pressing buttons.  “This place is really special, I promise you.”

Rolling her eyes Nyssa leaned her cheek on her hand: “What part of English History are you going to take me to next.”

“That was a minor error, Nyssa.”

“It always is,” she sighed as she leaned her cheek deeper into her palm. Nyssa wondered if the TARDIS had left some part of hers on Earth and was trying to get it back. “Doctor,” she said, “what would you do if I decided I had enough of travelling and wanted to - settle down, somewhere?”

“Have I upset you?” The Doctor suddenly rushed to Nyssa and knelt down on his knees taking his hands in hers: “Nyssa,” he gazed deeply into her eyes, “I do not want you to feel you are wasting my time. I never waste time on anyone!”

“What about Tegan?”

“Even Tegan,” he squeezed her hands in his and smiled as he did so, “I cannot apologise enough, I seriously thought…”

“It’s not that,” Nyssa sighed, “I was just asking the question.”

“What brought this all up?”

Nyssa was about to reply but the scanner blipped and the Doctor rushed to readout: “Now that does not make any sense!” He scowled and began grinding his teeth.  Nyssa got up and was prepared to help him any way she could but the Doctor was already trying to steer the TARDIS back on course, typing in co-ordinates.  Swinging the ship in the depths of space.

“What can I do, Doctor?”

“I am afraid there is nothing to do,” the Doctor sighed as he felt the TARDIS shudder before the controls started moving on their own. Lights flashed. Buttons pressed themselves seemingly with an invisible finger. The TARDIS seemed to be taking over completely.  “Nyssa,” he said glancing at his friend, “for the first time in my long life I am absolutely baffled!”

“You mean this has never happened before?”

“Never,” the Doctor said taking her hand.  

“Do you not say that the TARDIS is sentient?”

“She has a personality,” the Doctor said walking backwards as he stared at the unit in almost silenced awe. “That is certain,” his voice became quiet, thoughtful, “but she has never in the many centuries I have travelled with her done this before?”

“So,” Nyssa gazed up at the Doctor’s profile, “what does this actually mean?”

“It means,” he said turning to gaze into her wide blue eyes: “the TARDIS is either taking us away from danger or,” Nyssa steeled herself, she hated the ‘or’ and waited for the Doctor’s guess to be said: “she has felt the distress of a child.”

“A child?”

“The TARDIS seems to have developed a motherly instinct since you entered,” the Doctor smiled reassuringly, “she has always felt warm by the many other travellers you are by no means the youngest occupant the TARDIS has had but you are the only one that …” here the Doctor trailed off, Nyssa did not need to hear the rest.  She suffered it! “Oh well!” The Doctor squared his shoulders, “it is sort of nice to not be in charge - I can put my feet up.”

“Are you not frightened?”

“Why should I be?” The Doctor grinned, “brave heart, Nyssa!”

“Sometimes,” she sighed, “just sometimes I wish you were more like Tegan.”

The Doctor laughed silently as he wrapped an arm around Nyssa’s shoulders and hugged her into him.  “You could make a wish that we land somewhere nice?”

Nyssa and the Doctor slumped down on the floor and watched in equal admiration of the TARDIS taking control. Neither knowing what was going on! Why it was happening?  Where they were headed?  How the TARDIS was suddenly leaping into her own action? Or when they were going to land?

♥x♥x♥x♥x♥

The waiter took the menus away from Mr Gold and Emma after they had ordered their drinks, starters and main meal.  Mr Gold stared at Emma as she sipped her water: “Better tell me what this is all about!” Emma sighed, she ran her fingers along the edge of the glass.  Unfortunately it did not ring out a tune the way it did for Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality.  Emma avoided Mr Gold’s eyes but felt she had to make some kind of effort to act like they were on a date, so she concentrated on his lips instead.

“Why do I have to have an ulterior motive?” Mr Gold murmured leaning forward, tilting his head down to force her to look into his eyes, “can I not just want to get to know you as a new member of our community?” Emma arched an eyebrow and Mr Gold laughed a little: “you are a member of our community, are you not?”

“I guess,” Emma said with a lazy shrug of the shoulders, keeping her arms folded and turned her gaze to another couple.  It was David, with his wife. Briefly, Mr Gold turned to look at them.

“I suppose you’re sad about him deciding to be with his wife!” Snapping her head back round, Emma narrowed her eyes.  “Disappointed, then?”

“It’s not my problem what a complete stranger does,” Emma said taking another sip of water, “my only problem is the fact that he seemed so set on leaving her until the Mayor stuck her size 5 boot up her size 3 ass1”

Mr Gold laughed, not too loudly, but it made the feet of the table rock beneath him and his eyes were glowing with joy. Yes, he liked Emma. The town definitely improved the day she showed up. Emma did not like him.  Certainly did not feel the way he did. They were absolutely not mutuals!

“What did I say?” Emma said with twist of her lips as well.  “Glad I made you laugh!”

“Oh my,” Mr Gold dabbed under his eyes with his dark red silk handkerchief and methodically folded it back into shape and fastidiously placed it back in his sharp suited pocket. “Oh dearie me!” He shook his head, Emma hated herself for wanting to brush aside his hair.  This man was a creep.  He then proceeded to pick up his water and held it aloft, “You had best stay,” Emma’s frown was enough of a visual question mark to let the man continue, “Because,” he spread his mouth wide as he tasted the beverage, “your little boy would be so disappointed if you do not!”

“Is that a threat?” Emma sat forward to make sure he could hear, see and feel her intent. “I swear, you hurt one hair on Henry’s head you will suffer!”

It was just what he wanted.  Now she was holding proper eye contact Mr Gold also leaned back, carefully and keeping the gaze on the young woman in front of him.

“Not a threat, Emma, advice,” Mr Gold said also taking a cool sip of water.  “I like Henry, he’s a bonnie lad.  Respectful, kind, honest - more of us could be like him!”

They kept quiet when the waiter was putting their drinks in front of them.

Once he left Emma decided to ask her own question soothed by Gold’s assurance that Henry was not going to be a part of this deal: “So, you and Regina,” Mr Gold arched his own eyebrow. God, no wonder the sides of his face were so creviced and wrinkled, did the man do anything but smile? “Were you once a couple?”

Mr Gold wanted to laugh out loud at that but he just shifted a little in his seat whilst swirling the wine in the air: “No,” he said simply, “Regina Mills is not my type.”

“Because she’s a bitch and you’re a bastard?”

“I will not use the cliché,” he twitched the corner of his lips, “it is insulting for one. All women have some form of inner strength which is admirable,” Emma folded her arms across her chest tapping her fingers on her bare arm: “but that does not mean I have to like it,” he winked. “A mother bear protecting her cub is spirited but I would not take her out for a meal because of it.”

Despite herself, Emma actually smiled at the image Mr Gold had painted inside her head, she decided to answer Mr Gold’s question: “Yes,” she sighed, “I have officially moved to Storybrooke.”

“Excellent news,” Mr Gold lifted his glass, “a toast to our own Miss Emma Swan.”

Maybe she was just imagining it but did he always lay particular emphasis on her given name? It was like, every time he uttered it - he was laughing at a joke only he knew.  Em-MA.  Or there was some deep hidden meaning to it that she had no clue about.  The gleam in his eyes disconcerted her somewhat.  She had to sit through a three-course meal with this guy.  She had a feeling Mr Gold wanted her to stay for dessert.  

“A toast to me,” she said also raising her glass.

“We hardly see anyone from the outside world,” Mr Gold smiled, the candles in the centre of the table were aflame, the fire light highlighted that mischievous gleam. If she was a spiritual person, Emma would have sworn she was eating with the devil, “let alone have anyone move in and become a part of it,” the man was about to say something else when the Waiter finally arrived with their starters.  Mr Gold had some tomato and basil soup and freshly baked bread.  Emma had a prawn salad.  

“Enjoy your meal, Mr Gold!” The waiter said, deep inside his heart he felt sorry for the woman with him.

Ignoring the waiter Mr Gold carefully ate his soup whilst Emma ate her salad.  Both ate in silence, exchanging only the odd curious look, until the meal was over.  This was not preferable to being alone, she thought, not even close.  Once the starter dishes were taken away Emma  realised they would have to talk again: “You were saying?”

“Ah,” Mr Gold said wiping a little soup from his mouth with the red serviette: “So I was,” he sighed, “you, dear Emma,” again that weird little lilt to the end of her name, “have made Storybrooke history!”

Emma shook her head, was this all he wanted to say? “You still have not answered my question,” she said leaning forward, not realising Mr Gold was getting a pretty good view. He was too much of a gentleman to look - eyes were more important to him.  Eyes were the only way you could gauge a person. “What is the deal between you and Regina?”

“It is quite simple,” the antique store owner sighed, “we just live in the same town.”

“There has to be some kind of hang up?”

“Angst? No,” Mr Gold said, “we mutually hate each other,” Emma wanted to kick him to get information but that would not work.  “If she likes someone,” he set his lips straight, finally, “I do not, and vice versa!”

That snapped Emma back to her senses: “But she dislikes me?”

“Precisely,” Mr Gold smirked, “which is why I hope we manage to get along famously, Miss Swan,” the waiter had arrived now with their main course, Mr Gold decided on Shepherds pie - an English dish - and Emma had a vegetarian lasagne with a side order of fries. “How about it, Emma?” She looked at him as he sipped more of his merlot, and she swallowed down some of her pasta: “Friends?”

♥x♥x♥x♥x♥

The TARDIS stood in an Alleyway behind a cafe.  It was dark.  Smoke plumed in the air from a vent and the TARDIS was still sizzling a little from her unexpected journey.  Nyssa leant her back against the wall and looked up at the stars, second star to the right and straight on till morning, Tegan once said to her.  The way to Never Never Land.

Humans were utterly strange, she sighed, odd story for a child. Wicked pirates, a boy who could not, and did not want, to grow up. That part was fine.  The fairies, mermaids, and a ticking crocodile puzzled her.

“Doctor,” Nyssa began but was suddenly stopped by the sight of a tall gangly man with red tufts of curly hair, glasses, a good smile.  Very friendly!  

“You called!” He said.

“No, I was talking to my friend,” Nyssa sighed, she turned around the Doctor stood at a restaurant window reading the menu.

“Dr Jim Hopper,” he took Nyssa aside as a car drove by and stopped by their side. Just as the Doctor decided to amble across to Nyssa and her new acquaintance.

“I’m sorry!” An elfin faced woman stepped out of the car looking flustered. Smartly dressed in pale but warm colours, with a dark pixie cut framing her apple cheeks and red lips.  The Doctor shook his head, impossible!  “I hope you’re all right!” She took Nyssa’s hand, “Mary Margaret Blanchard,” she said.  “Dr. Hopper, are you all right, too?”

“I am fine, Miss Blanchard,” he took his bow and squeezed Nyssa’s hand.  “Hope to see you soon, uh?”

“Nyssa,” the young woman replied.  “Of Traken!”

“Where’s that?”

“It isn’t.” Nyssa lowered her eyes, “my home was destroyed by a tyrant!”

Immediately Dr Hopper wanted to hug the poor girl but maintaining his calm professionalism he nodded and squeezed her shoulder instead: “I am a Doctor of Psychology.  Particularly with children.”

Smiling Nyssa nodded: “Thank you, Dr Hopper.”

The Doctor’s scowl deepened, why - when he looked at this guy - did he just want to give a little whistle.  As for Mary Margaret, why did he feel there would be music in her emotional soup? Odd!

“Nyssa is a lovely name,” Mary said, “you and your friend are welcome to Storybrooke Maine!”

“Must look better in the daytime!” The Doctor said.

Mary gazed at the two people before her. Nyssa was petite, with clear and glowing complexion, her clothes were a little too retro for her tastes, but her hair and stance showed she had some innate breeding.  Nyssa definitely radiated goodness from within. The man was taller than his companion. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Perfect nose. Cheeky smile.

Mary was about to say something but her eyes fell on the restaurant window where David sat opposite his wife. Every time she saw them together her heart broke. Then her gaze turned to see Mr Gold and Emma, her only best friend in the whole world, eating dinner. Nyssa followed Mary’s gazes. Her senses prickled when she saw the older man suavely dressed eating a chocolate fondant with amarretto cream and a glass of white wine. Emma looked up and noticed Mary watching her and she was with two new people.

“Who are they?” Nyssa asked.

“The couple sitting near the window is Mr and Mrs Nolan,” Mary sighed.  It hurt less to say it like that.  “The other couple are Mr Gold,” she hesitated with his name, “and my new roommate and only real friend,” Nyssa’s heart swollen with pity for this poor young woman, “Emma Swan.”

The Doctor looked at Mr Gold too and shuddered: “Come on, Nyssa, we can’t stay!”

“Excuse me!” A young voice pipped up behind them.

“Hello,” Nyssa said bending down to be level with the child. “I am Nyssa, and this is the Doctor.”

“I’m Henry!” The boy said with a smile. Nyssa melted for him already.

“Miss Blanchard, ma’am,” Mary turned to look at her most imaginative if a little unhinged pupil, “what is my mom doing on a date with Mr Gold?”

“What’s wrong with Mr Gold?” The Doctor asked the boy.

“It would be easier to tell you what isn’t.”

“I know someone like that,” Nyssa sighed, “still, she seems to be all right with it.”

“She’s new to this town,” Henry said, “and you are too, but Mr Gold does not do anything out of the goodness of his own heart.”

Mary felt as if she should intercede: “Mr Gold practically owns this town,” she explained. “But, Henry. I am sure your mother went willingly with him!”

“I don’t want Mr Gold to be my father!” Henry scowled.

Mary laughed and hugged him: “You had best…” too late! The sleek car drove up. A heel appeared attached to a pair of sleek legs. Another followed. Then the woman stepped out of the car.

Henry turned: oh dammit, he would never get a chance to tell his real mom his plan.  

“Henry Mills!” Her voice rang clear through the deserted night streets. Spoken so loudly that the diners could hear. Mr Gold turned around and smiled at the scene and at the two strangers in the street. One of them was extremely pretty. The other one bothered him.

Immediately, Emma grabbed her handbag and coat. She was not going to let Henry be publicly humiliated. Mr Gold left his card on the table and followed his date. It would be to his advantage to remain on Emma’s good side. Also, he felt a sort of fatherly energy burst through his soul when he saw Henry. At this stage he wanted to keep being on Emma’s good side. If he helped Henry, Emma would work with him a little more.

“Hey, Regina!” Emma said, her voice rang in the clear stillness of the night.  Once she reached the crowd Emma stood confidently, putting her fingers in her jeans pockets. “Henry was not doing anything wrong, give him a break.”

Regina narrowed her eyes at this blonde annoyance in front of her: “Get in the car, Henry,” she said.

“I want to be with my real mom!”

“May I remind you what your real mom did?”

“Yeah, and she is standing right here because he found me. I stayed because I realised what an idiot I was for giving him up,” Emma said, “Henry, go into Regina’s car.”

“Okay, mom,” Henry said with a smile.

Annoyed that Henry seemed to prefer to obey the woman that has only been in his life for five minutes rather than her, Regina turned to look at her rival: “You had better be careful, Miss Swan!” Regina murmured, the tone chilled everyone in the group.  She scanned the rest of the crowd, “you can be evicted from your property anytime I wish it with a snap,” she clicked two digits, “of my dainty little fingers!”

Regina swung her head back round but Mr Gold coughed: “I think you will find, Regina, that I own Miss Blanchard’s and Miss Swan’s shared home,” Regina’s shoulders stiffened, “so, please, leave them alone!”

Gulping Regina clenched her hands by her sides: “This isn’t over!” She hissed before stepping up to her car.

“Well, she’s a barrel of laughs,” the Doctor said.

Nyssa shuddered: “It is like she has the soul of winter deep within her veins,” Mr Gold leant a hand on Nyssa’s shoulder, she looked at the hand and then up at his somewhat kindly face, “you are?”

“Ah, yes, a formal introduction.” The man smiled, “Mr Gold Esquire, and you are?” He gave a florrid bow and took her hand: “my dear lady?”

“Nyssa,” she smiled as he kissed her hand.

“Nyssa,” Mr Gold smirked, “such an unusual appellation for a very beautiful girl.”

The Doctor visibly took Mr Gold’s hand away from his friend’s: “Nice to make your acquaintance - but Nyssa and I need a place to stay!”

“There’s Grannies!” Mary, Mr Gold and Emma said together.

“Sounds homely,” the Doctor wrapped an arm around Nyssa’s shoulder, “where is it?”

“I’ll take you!” Emma said, “I stayed there too when I first came here.”

“No, Emma,” Mr Gold said, “I need to collect their rent so I will take our two new friends,” Emma was about to object but Mr Gold turned to her, “it was a lovely date, Emma, perhaps we can meet for dinner again sometime?” Taking her unawares he kissed her cheek before turning back to Nyssa, “Miss Blanchard,” he nodded, “I promise you I will not let Regina make you homeless.”

Emma stepped close to Mary and watched in stunned amazement as the two strangers walked off into the depths of the night with Mr Gold: “Well, how about that,” she said narrowing her eyes, “I will protect that young girl, she’ll need it.”

“Mr Gold likes her,” Mary said, “and he seems to like you too!”

Emma tilted her head to her friend and arched her eyebrow before they both burst out laughing as they stepped in the car. What neither lady knew was that David was staring at Mary through the gold painted lettering on the restaurant window, not listening to a word his wife was saying.

♥x♥x♥x♥x♥

“Their rent?” The Doctor said.

“Her only grandchild lives with her,” the man smiled.  He seemed to want to keep Nyssa away from the Doctor by standing between them, “Ruby, be careful - she’s a goth who loves wolves. Bit strange!”

“Are you not in pain?” Nyssa asked concerned about his limp. “I have the ability to heal, if you want me to …”

“Beautiful and compassionate,” Mr Gold winked, Nyssa blushed which made her prettier, “it is but an old wound. I have come to consider it a blessing, rather than a curse,” he took her hand, “I can still hold my own, though.”

So, the Doctor sighed inwardly, let’s take stock. I have met a child psychologist who made him want to yell out jehoshaphat. A pretty young woman called Mary Margaret Blanchard who made him want to warn her about apples. Felt the presence of someone truly evil who seemed to be the adopted mother of a sweet child who may be innocent in all of whatever muddle this town is in.  And now we have a grandma owning a B+B with a wolf-obsessed, goth who probably wears a lot of red to encourage the irony that her name is Ruby… he began humming hi-ho hi-ho hi-ho quietly.

… As for Mr Gold? The Doctor gazed at the man’s profile, never trust someone with a surname of a precious metal, he thought, particularly one who dresses in the best of the best either. Why did he want to say another name? A name of a fairy tale creature who could spin?  As soon as he could, the Doctor thought, he would have to get some sense out of this. The only person he felt could offer up answers was that charmingly sweet little boy.

“Here we are!” Mr Gold exclaimed.  

All right, where were the gingerbread men and the candy canes with the red stripes?

Nyssa loved how exquisite the setting was. Almost English. Mr Gold opened the gate but - somehow, Nyssa could not walk through it - she tried to move her feet but it seemed that, suddenly, they were turned to lead: “Doctor,” her voice quivered. Mr Gold stood behind her, “something is wrong here!”

“Grannie’s the sweetest…”

“No, Mr Gold,” Nyssa said turning her head, “that woman.  The one who was - she was like - her!”

“Nyssa, this is a perfectly amiable and warm place. Come on,” he said, “one little step at a time.”

“I’m not a child, Doctor!” Nyssa said, “there is something inherently dark about her. Like there is a shadow over her heart - she did not seem - human!”

Mr Gold arched an eyebrow: “Is she going to be alright?” He asked the Doctor.

“Nyssa has highly developed senses,” the Doctor said to Mr Gold.  “I owe my life to her!”

“No, I need a weapon.  I don’t feel safe!”

“Nyssa…” the Doctor tried to say in a reasonable tone of voice.

“I need to be somewhere safe!”

“Like where?” Mr Gold asked tilting his head to the side.  

Nyssa could not say the TARDIS - besides being overheated to a crisp - it would not make sense to Mr Gold.  “The two women… Mary?”

“Emma Swan is Acting Sheriff, Doctor.  Your ward could not be in better hands!”

Reluctantly the Doctor nodded: “I will see you in the morning.”

“Tell Grannie to sort out my rent, and I will pick it up in the AM instead. Oh and tell her your bed and board is on me!”

The Doctor nodded and watched helplessly as he was separated from his friend.  Still, Mr Gold seemed capable and kind. Down the path into Grannie’s house. Let’s hope she doesn’t have a big mouth to eat me with, he smiled at the image as he thrust his hands in his pockets.

Well, Doctor, the Doctor sighed when he opened the door into the cosy entrance way where a tall, slim and leggy brunnette with bright red lips and a shirt tied underneath her breasts and a tight black pair of jeans stood petulantly behind a counter.

“My Grandma is at the hospital, my name is Ruby, how may I help?”

The Doctor gulped, we are definitely not in Kansas any more!