Hello! I've wanted to write a Doctor Who story for sooooooo long now, but I've never really seemed to find the time or proper motivation to start one. The general idea of my story has literally been floating around my head for some time now.

Some of you may see this as a typical Doctor Who OC/story/plot/whatever there is to really complain about, but you know what? I wanted my own sort of spin on it. There are hundreds of Doctor Who fanfics on here with hundreds of OCs and story lines with the Doctor and other characters. So, you know, I thought to myself why not?

Enjoy! The only character in this so far to belong to me is Matilda Falconer, but the rest belong to the BBC and the fantastic creators and writers of Doctor Who.

Matilda blinked, once, twice...several more times, despite the fact that her eyes had adjusted to her new surroundings. They scanned across the room she was stood in the centre of, sharply whipping her head around and eyeing each area in sections. The peach-brown and white colour scheme didn't spark any recognition in her head.

She was in a kitchen, and not her own or anyone else's she knew at that. While trying to process what had happened and what she was going to do, a faint sound of a door creaking open came from another part of the house nearby, and a voice followed shortly behind it.

"Right, I need to use your kitchen as a lab!" Matilda froze, eyes widening and stomach plummeting within her. Automatically she went to turn, eyes wildly ransacking the room for the nearest exit. They landed on a set of doors which appeared to lead out into the back garden, but before she could dart towards them, the voice came again; this time louder and closer than before. "Cook up some cubes! See what—!" Matilda spun around on cue to face the owner of the voice as they entered the kitchen, and she immediately knew that her chances of escaping unnoticed had been blown.

The man was of average build, slender and fairly tall. He was dressed in brown trousers and a light blue and white pin-stripe shirt, a tweed jacket hung around his lanky frame and a navy blue bow tie fasted beneath his collar. His face was clean-shaven and the brown floppy hair on his head was partly swept off to the side. Plastic tubing was wound together and hung over his shoulder as he entered and a brief look of shock passed across his face when he took her in. She did the same, her eyebrows drawing together as she tried to put a name to his face. Had she seen him before?

Matilda found herself at a loss of what to say. She raised her hands in defence, her hazel eyes wide and pleading as she tried to defend her presence in what was presumably the man's kitchen. Or, if not, his friends, from what he had said moments before.

"Look, this seems bad and this is going to sound absolutely crazy...but, I don't know how I've got here and—!" She quickly stammered out, but before she could continue, two figures entered the kitchen and she was interrupted by one of them.

"Mattie!" A woman cheered, holding a small, blue plastic crate in her hands with several random items inside. She was dressed in a blue blouse and her centre-parted auburn her fell down past her shoulders. Matilda felt herself flush and her brow furrow with confusion as her eyes flickered from the two who had recently entered, from the woman to the other man standing beside her. He was smiling at her warmly, his dirty blonde hair combed back off his forehead and carrying thick, wounded plastic tubing like the other guy. As he placed it on the table, the woman continued, eyeing the confused other woman with amusement, an audible Scottish accent in her voice as she spoke. "We were wondering when you were going to show up..."

Matilda stared at the woman as if she had two heads. She'd literally just appeared, in her kitchen, but she was just speaking to her as if she was some sort of...old friend? And why did the three of them look...so...familiar?

As she went to reply back, to mutter some sort of confused response, she was taken into someone's arms. The arms that belonged to the guy wearing the bow tie, to be exact. She felt the air caught at the back of her throat as she became rigid, her cheek pressed firmly against the man's chest as he wound his arms around her waist, chin rested on the very top of her head.

She didn't return the embrace, though, her arms stuck out from each side of him and frozen in the air, not wrapping around his frame like he was doing so to her. He quickly pulled away, a small grin on his face as he did so, and then leaned down to bump his forehead against her own.

"Finally," He muttered softly, not taking note of the stunned look written across her face. "The past few days have been very quiet." He released her, pulling away from her smaller frame and moving around the young woman to go to the sink. Matilda let her arms fall limply by her sides, staring down at the space where he had stood moments ago.

"Right," The other man began, making sure the tubing was fully laid out on the kitchen table to the right of her. Matilda heard the clattering of a metal pot and the sound of a tap running behind her. "I'm due at work." He flashed Matilda a mock-roll of his eyes, a kind look still intact on his face.

"What?" The man with the tweed jacket demanded behind her, the sound of a tap running as he spoke. She partly turned as the other guy and the red-haired woman drew closer to their friend, giving him bemused looks. "You've got a job?"

The bloke with the combed back hair had his hands raised in the air, an exasperated look on his face. "W-Yeah? Of course I've got a job!" He quickly snapped his head towards the auburn-haired woman to his right. She was still holding that blue basket with the random objects, one of which was a keyboard. Her eyes were narrowed on the figure behind Matilda, the man in tweed. "What do you think we do when we're not with you and Mattie?" Matilda frowned at this, her confusion bubbling deeper within her especially when the man flashed her a bit of an annoyed look as well.

"I imagine mostly kissing." The man from behind her stated, to which the blonde haired-bloke beside her made a look on his face that appeared as if he agreed with the guy in a way. The younger woman who stood out-of-place beside the three stared at each of them, one after the other, with the most incredulous look on her face that they had never truly seen before.

"Hypocrite." The woman scoffed and with the slight shake of her head, the red-head spoke again. "I write travel articles for magazines and Rory heals the sick." She explained before turning and placing the basket down onto the side to her right.

The man, who was apparently needed at work, quickly cut in. "My shift starts in an hour. You don't know where my scrubs are?" Right, a nurse or a trainee doctor then. He'd directed the question towards the other woman, who rolled her eyes and pushed off from the counter that she'd briefly leant against.

"In the lounge, where you left them."

Matilda felt herself back away slowly from the pair as the other man, the nurse presumably, trailed out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Her eyes followed him as he disappeared into the room to the left of the hallway. She desperately wanted to ask what was going on, to ask who they were and why they looked so damn familiar. But the words seemed caught in her throat.

Was she going into shock?

The woman pressed a hand to the top of her head and the other onto the kitchen table for support, palm pressed against her skull. She half expected an unbearable burst of pain take over her, for blood to suddenly spurt down the side of her head.

"Oh, have you got a headache?" Someone asked directly from behind her, depositing the small, blue crate of items beside her on the tabletop she stood beside. She jolted, clearly startled, but the man with the bow-tie didn't notice. He instead began to take out each random object bit by bit from the crate, placing it together in pieces before the two of them. The other woman, the woman with the blouse and auburn hair, appeared on her other side, facing the brown-haired man.

"Mattie," She gave her a lightly concerned look. "Just go into the cupboard over there, Rory keeps a small box of paracetamol on the top shelf." She nodded over towards a white cupboard close by to the kitchen sink, but Matilda didn't move.

Rory? Was that the other bloke who had gone off into the lounge?

She didn't catch the look that was directed her way from the man, and neither did the red-head. His mouth twitched down into a frown for a moment before he turned his attention to his friend.

He placed down a glass top over the blue plate where a black, lone cube sat in the centre, picking up a magnifying glass as he spoke. "Oh, the Ponds, with their house and their jobs and their everyday lives..." He peered through the glass, inspecting another onyx cube and throwing the woman a look before glancing down again. "The journalist and the nurse. Long way from Leadworth." A whirring, buzzing sound caught Matilda's attention. The man in tweed was holding a device in his right hand, something that triggered an unsettling feeling in her stomach as the green light at the end lit up, appearing dim in the light of the room. He hovered it over some wires that the other woman held forwards, an amused look on her face.

Where had she heard that sound before?

"We think it's been ten years! Not for you two or Earth, but for us. Ten years older. Ten years of you and Mattie, on an off." She threw a look towards the strawberry-blonde, her green eyes twinkling. She caught the look of confusion, her own perfectly shaped eyebrows twitching downwards as she gave the younger woman a look of concern. "Hey, are you alright?"

Both of their attention was now fully set on Matilda, who had taken a step or two away from the table and the two strangers. She shook her head after a few seconds of hesitation, opening her mouth to say something, anything, but the words just wouldn't form on her lips. She shut her mouth once again, her hand rising to her head and her eyes fluttering down to the kitchen floor.

"Where have you just been?" Matilda blinked up at the man, taking in the new expression which had replaced the soft smile on his face before. He now looked suddenly worried; she could see the dread on his face. She swallowed the lump in her throat, but something caught her attention and she was forced to snap her eyes away from the concerned bloke.

Her eyes were planted on the front door in alarm at the very far end of the hall and immediately, she drew backwards slightly, but not before reaching forwards and grasping onto the ginger's arm. She yanked her back, pulling her with her as the woman protested. Mere seconds later, the sound of glass smashing and wood being booted against a hard surface was heard, and the three watched as soldiers dressed in black thundered down the hall through the smashed down door, guns in their grasps.

Matilda felt herself being yanked backwards too.

"Clear!" Bow-tie swept forwards in front of the two women while the soldiers drew closer, before finally standing in the doorway of the room. "Trap one, kitchen secured!" The three twisted their heads around, eyes wide and startled to see several more soldiers gathered outside the doors leading to the garden, each of them surrounding the exterior of the kitchen on the patio outside. One communicated through his radio to the other who stood in the doorway of the kitchen.

The three of them looked at one another momentarily, before turning their focus onto the approaching figure that was making his way towards the kitchen.

The blonde nurse was followed through into the kitchen with his hands raised in the air, his upper half-dressed in a long, white sleeved t-shirt and a turquoise blue scrub shirt and his lower half almost completely unclothed; except for the orange underwear he was wearing.

An exasperated look was on his face as he spoke before he even made it into the kitchen. "There are soldiers all over my house," He snapped, clearly a bit irritated, and then flung his arms upwards at his sides. "And I'm in my pants!" He let his arms fall back down at his sides, shaking his head as the ginger replied, a slight pout on her face.

And despite her situation, Matilda laughed out loud, standing beside the man with the bow-tie.

"My whole life I've dreamed of saying that, and I miss it by being someone else."

The man beside Matilda found the situation amusing too, throwing her a grin as he clapped his hands together once in glee. The poor nurse gave the ginger an odd look, his hands folded over himself slightly.

"All these muscles, and they still don't know how to knock." A new voice was heard, drawing the foursome's attention away from the funny predicament for a moment and towards the owner of the voice, causing the half-dressed bloke to come to stand beside Matilda.

All four watched as a blonde haired woman in a trench coat weaved her way through the soldiers, continuing to speak, and her stride casual. "Sorry about the raucous entrance. Spike in Artron energy reading at this address. In the light of the last twenty-four hours, we had to check it out, and the dogs do love a good run out." She paused for a moment after flashing a brief look at a soldier who stood rigid in the kitchen, gun held stiffly in his hands. She then gave the four of them a light smile, hands remaining in the pockets of her grey trousers.

The woman breathlessly greeted them. "Hello. Kate Stewart, head of scientific research at UNIT." She'd removed one hand and pressed it to her chest during her introduction, eyes trailing over each of them individually before landing onto the brown-haired man beside Matilda. "And with dress sense like that," She paused again, her hand that had previously been pressed to her chest now slipping into the pocket of her trousers once again and pulling out a rectangular device. Kate raised it forwards, directly in front of the man's chest, and the devise began to beep a few times. "You must be the Doctor."

Matilda felt her stomach plummet and her eyes widen. Her knees wobbled and she immediately went to grab for something, which unfortunately for the man on her left, was the guy half-dressed in his scrubs. She clutched onto his arm, rocking forwards slightly while he turned to her in alarm.

"Mattie?" His words were laced with worry, causing Kate Stewart, the red-head and of course, the Doctor, to turn their attention to the younger woman. The Time Lord, who was very clearly panicked at the girl's state, gently took hold of her arm to steady her. But as soon as he did this, Matilda flinched back and snatched herself away from his grasp, and also the nurse's. The four others watched as she drew backwards, hazel eyes wide and suddenly, she was able to form the words to speak.

"No, no...no, no, no!" Well, or she could repeatedly just say the word no. She found herself digging through the pockets of her grey suit jacket, searching for her mobile, for her wallet or any sense of proof that this wasn't actually real. She pats at the pockets a few more times, panic in her eyes. "Th-this isn't real! It can't be!"

Each of their eyes widened at her protests, the Doctor's face was twisted in hurt. He takes a step towards her, hands raised slightly in such a way as if he was approaching a frightened animal, but she automatically takes another stride back, raising her own hands in defence.

"You never said where you'd just been." He stated, his face turning solemn, no longer trying to come closer towards her. She shook her head, raising one of her hands to press against the very top of her skull. His eyes followed it, shaking his head slightly to himself. Another emotion mixed with the solemn look that had formed over his features, a look of grief.

Matilda blinked the tears back, pursing her lips for a moment as her eyes flickered down towards the floor. "I climbed into this taxi." She swallowed, the anxiety tightening itself around her chest as she spoke, the realisation dawning on her.

"I didn't put my seatbelt on."

"You didn't put your seatbelt on."

The two of them, Matilda and the Doctor, had said those two sentences simultaneously. The young woman planted her gaze onto the man with the bow tie, a distraught look on her face as she drew in a sharp intake of air.

Tentatively yet quickly, she walked around the four of them, removing her gaze from the Time Lord, his two companions and Kate Stewart. "Sorry." She muttered, throwing a disturbed yet apologetic look in their general sort of direction, her shoulders squared as she went to exist the kitchen. "I-I can't. Sorry."

She stepped into the hallway, ignoring the gazes that burned into the back of her head, but before she could go very far, one of the soldiers in black uniform stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

It was just one more thing!

"Oh, come on!" She snapped, the haunted look on her face being replaced by an incredulous, irritated stare directed at the armed soldier. "Out out my way!"

The soldier, who stood unmoving and unblinking, stared straight ahead with an expressionless look on his face. "I cannot do that, ma'am." He replied, not taking any notice of the appalled look he received. She rocked back slightly, her face twisting into a frown.

What had she done? She'd just appeared! She hadn't broken any laws or caused any trouble; she hadn't offended anyone or knew any information?

"Did you just call me ma'am?" She lowly demanded, eyes fixing a cold glare on the soldier, which, once again, he took no notice of. She shook her head, reaching one hand up, presumably to push him away, but her hand froze in the air and she decided not to do so. With a sigh, she flexed her fingers out, wincing, and turned left thought the first door to go into the living room. She glanced to her right, a look of despair on her face as her eyes searched the room for a phone.

From behind her back in the kitchen, she heard the soft voice of Kate Stewart. "Is that not Matilda Falconer? Is she alright?"

No, she certainly wasn't, but the Doctor thought otherwise, quickly brushing the comment off. "Yes, yes...she'll be fine. Now, tell me, since when did science run the...?"

Matilda had stopped listening, all of her attention and focus immediately drawn towards the unmistakably familiar, royal blue 1960's police call box which stood tall on the left hand side of her; tucked at the back left hand corner of the living room. This was the last reason, the last sign and slap in the face that this was what she had clicked it onto be.

It was mad, and extremely unlikely, but Matilda Falconer appeared to be trapped in an episode of a British television show. When her friend Beth had insisted that she should start watching Doctor Who and that it'd totally suck the twenty-three year old in, she didn't think that literally could.

She paced back and forth for a few minutes, eyes scanning over the furniture, over the blue and teal colour scheme, over each trinket and photo frame in the room. Occasionally she would throw a look towards the blue box that stood behind her, unassuming and quiet.

Of course it's quiet, you idiot! It's a box!

No, Beth said had said something odd a few times. She'd gushed about how she, as in the, well, box itself, was alive. As if it had a soul.

Did it?

She found herself frozen, staring at the old police call box with wide eyes, her mouth parted open as if she was about to say something. For a moment, she was ready to. She could feel words urging to come out of her mouth, her vocal chords ready to be put to use again.

Matilda averted her gaze away, shaking her head and focusing on the mirror hung above the wooden mantel, eyes fixated on her reflection. She approached closer, noting that her appearance hadn't particularly changed since when she'd last seen it that morning, when she was getting ready.

Her wavy, strawberry-blonde hair was still kept in its messy bun, her eyes were still hazel in colour and she was still dressed in her formal clothes for work that she'd shoved on in a rush before leaving to climb into the taxi. She tilted her head forwards, now inches from her reflection, and peered up at the very top of her skull.

Nothing had changed, except for the fact that there was no blood, no shards of glass lodged into the scalp, her skull fully intact and not dented. No trace of the accident, no trace of the fact that she was possibly dead.

At that was when it suddenly occurred to her that she very well could be.

There was a photograph to the left of the mirror, stuck against the blue-green painted wall above the many, random trinkets below. Four people, four adults grouped together and either smiling or pulling a face at the camera. From the right it went from the dirty blonde, pulling a mock-surprised face, the red-head, who had a grin in fact, one arm around him and the other around the other man, the Doctor. He was leant back slightly, smiling and without his tweed jacket. His arm was wrapped around the shoulders of a young woman with shoulder length, off-blonde hair, who was simply smiling directly at the camera, a soft look in her eyes.

It was Matilda. Only, of course, she couldn't remember having the picture taken.