"Lets see now. If I twist this and adjust that slightly. I will just raise that to half way and lower that bar down to... Yes there." The Doctor flailed his hands and arms in the air as they dashed poetically from lever to knob to handle and back again. Flicking switches, in what appeared to be, a desperate fashion but in reality was just complete normality.
Abbie was leaning against one of the TARDIS' many support beams. "I know I ask this a lot but..." She flicked her red fringe from in front of her eyes. "Do you actually know what you are doing?" Her tone was both curious and questionably worried.
The Doctor glanced in her direction as he danced and pranced around the controls to the machine. "I ask myself that everyday, and I am yet to come up with an answer that satisfies the question, so when I reach an agreeable conclusion to the inquiry I will make sure I inform you first". He made sure to throw a reassuring smile in her direction. He may not have been human but that gesture would make many hearts melt.
The TARDIS began to make the rhythmically recognizable tone, that was so often heard by many but very few came to know the true meaning behind the grinding.
The Doctor stopped moving, a rare phenomena, and looked at his assistant Abbie. It didn't take long to take her appearance in. She was no taller than five foot three, so quite short in height. Her hair too was short, with its fiery red locks barely reaching the peaks of her shoulders. She was wearing lose fitting combat trousers and plain black t-shirt, she would dress more stylishly but the Doctor described this look as timeless, and so would work in anytime period.
"Any guesses as to where we are going? Go on, you like guessing, don't you?" The Doctors tone was playful and energetic, he enjoyed playing games.
Abbie sighed to herself. "Com'on Doctor, you know I hate guessing gam..." Her dissatisfied exasperation was cut off by the timely voice of the Gallifreyan.
"But I love guessing games. You know you want to guess my dear. Go on, have a go. You know you really want to. I am the Doctor, I know these things before even you do." He let a childish grin slither across his face.
"Oh fine..." She looked aimlessly around the inside of the blue phone-booth for some form of inspiration but nothing came to mind. She splurted out, "2389, I don't know."
The Doctor laughed a little and walked towards the door. Abbie let a smile cross her face, thinking she got it correct. "I am right amen't I? Or really close, please tell me." She bounced over to the Doctor in anticipation.
He opened the door and answered her. "If close classifies as off by a couple and a half centuries then you m'dear are one hundred percent correct." With that he flung his arms into the trench coats sleeves, before shoving his right hand deep into the waist height pocket. It emerged grasping the sonic screwdriver. He twirled it in his fingers before kissing it and submerging it back into the jackets orifice. "You should probably wait here." He was looking at Abbie. "It's a bit nippy out and you're not wearing much. But don't worry, I don't plan on getting into any trouble, this time around..."
He whipped himself out of the door, leaving Abbie behind. She couldn't resist shouting after him. "But trouble finds you!"
The Doctor was walking through the streets of London, his tanned trench coat blowing freely in the wind revealing his pitch black trousers and matching turtleneck beneath. He began talking to himself out loud. "I wonder if they have any good country tunes in this time. I am in the mood for a goo...."
"Did you just say, 'In this time'?" It was an elderly woman with a dog that had spoken. The Doctor had not even noticed her presence until she spoke. The dog, a small highland terrier, was looking at the man in a funny way, as if not sure if he was a threat or not.
The Doctor smiled. "I did, didn't I?" He leaned down and put his hand out for the dog. It sniffed the appendage and accepted the fact he was friendly. "Sometimes I just.... Lose track of time Ma'am." He grinned a wide, honest smile.
With that he walked off and turned the street corner, swinging around on the electricity pole. A cold breeze caught him as soon as he made it around the corner and he swiftly let his hands dive into the deep pockets before he began to whistle a very forgettable tune to himself.
He let his eyes wander up to the window where they were met by a young woman. I spy with my little eye, an angel soon to be lost in the dimensions of time.... She whisked herself away from the window and out of his view. Till we meet again. The Doctor thought.
He walked along care free by the police tape that was blocking off a portion of the street. A group of officers were zipping a boys body into a large black bag as the Doctor neatly skipped across the pavement whistling his tune.
As he went to continue further down the street a young police officer on a horse stopped him and demanded two answers to his questions. "Who're you and what're you doing 'ere?" His London accent was quite thick but the Doctor understood perfectly.
"I am not quite sure what I am doing here yet, but right there I was skipping."
The officer raised an eyebrow and made a final inquiry. "Well, who're you then?"
The man smiled.
"I'm the Doctor."