The Doctor sails through time and space, not really noticing where his TARDIS takes him, though he knows that he's in the vicinity of Earth. For some reason, his eyes glaze over as he considers the past events, the people he's known and lost. Rose sticks out in his mind, as always; the very fact that he lost her drives him insane, especially during the one hour that he slept per week. It was always her face, her image that swirled around and around in his mind as he realized he needed to rest. That was what usually triggered it, you see- the endless image of her signaled it was time for a short nap.

But the Doctor isn't tired right now, and he isn't incoherent. He's just thinking, thinking of a girl named Rose who got trapped away in a parallel universe and remained there. He sighs and sits back in the Commander's chairs, not noticing as the TARDIS moves without his permission, soaring down and down towards the green and blue planet below. He finally notices this rapid movement as the TARDIS lurches and shakes and sighs, and he cries out in disbelief, "What? What? WHAT?"

And then the TARDIS lands, and all he can do is sigh. Then he grins, and turns to the companion that isn't there to cry, "Let's see what's out there, then!" But then he sees that Rose is lost and Martha has left him, and he sighs. At the least, he doesn't have to worry about anyone's safety but his own. He steps outside and sees the strangest sight- the streets of Chicago, Illinois, some-when about 2007, perhaps early 2008. He looks around and frowns; such a boring time to be in, for Chicago. But he might as well look around while, while he's here.

So he steps outside of the TARDIS and walks down the city streets, watching as people move past him, hustling and bustling in typical human city-dweller fashion. But he smiles, reveling in the chaos. Ah, Humans! They fascinated him, to the end.

He walks past a giant greenhouse, filled with plants and flowers. Everything in the greenhouse is alive and well, and he decides to go in, thriving on the feeling of plant life and such. Every now and then, everyone should visit a greenhouse. It was good biologic therapy; botany did things to other living creatures that nothing else could. Maybe it was those oxygen omissions from photosynthesis.

He strolls among the potted flowers, stacked up on shelves and towering over an average-sized person. Being rather tall by human standards, the Doctor isn't perturbed and can easily examine the topmost flowers. They are all roses, and the mere sight of their red and pink and white colors makes him swallow out of pain. But he continues on, and next to the shelves of flowers is a giant display of flower bouquets, bouquets of petunias and geraniums and carnations and lilacs and sunflowers and lilies. He examines closely five bouquets of bright orange tiger lilies, which were arranged not in a line like the others but in a small little circle. Perturbed, the Doctor peers forward and is somewhat startled by rustling in the flowers. He regains his composure and moves aside one of the bouquet wrappings and is amused by the sight that greets him.

Buried in between the flowers is a little girl, only about five or maybe six years old. She has shoulder-length brown hair and is wearing a knee-length aqua blue dress and a denim jacket. She has no shoes on, and she looks up at the Doctor with a wide-eyed, terrified facial expression. Her eyes are teal in color, the most startling pair of eyes the Doctor has ever seen. He smiles down warmly at the girl, his eyes alight with amusement.

"And who are you?" he asks, almost cooing, kneeling down to the height of the three-foot girl.

"I dunno," she mumbles, leaving her small circle of flowers. Her voice bears an American accent, though young and high-pitched.

"Really? You don't know your name?" the Doctor prods, frowning. He knows human development, and by that age most human children would definetly know their name- usually their address and telephone number and alphabet and numbers, too. But nothing surprises him anymore.

"Nope," she shakes her head sadly, "I woke up in the streets, sir, and it was warm here, so I came over."

"You don't remember your parents? Your home?" the Doctor raises his eyebrows, praying for some sort of information so that he can bring the little girl home.

"Last thing I remember, before coming here, was my mommy and my daddy yelling at me to go and hide. Don't remember what they called me," the girl shrugs, looking away from the Doctor's face in embarrassment, "But they were worried, there were round things in the sky and they killed my parents. Round, dark things, things my parents called aliens. That's all I remember. "

The Doctor's frown increases in magnitude. The destruction of the paradox machine should have erased that memory from the little girl's mind, and her parents should have survived. What could have caused this? His mind whirs with explanations. Perhaps they had some sort of significance with the paradox, so the parents still died, and the erasure of the year-that-never-was from the girls mind erased all but that event from it.

"Well," the Doctor pauses, "How have you been coping, out here in a greenhouse, then? It's been a while since that happened."

"The people who come here drop lots of food, and water is everywhere for the plants, and it's really warm," the little girl smiles brightly, "I like it here."

"Wouldn't you rather be with a nice family? Friends? A home and bed of your own? Good food every day and water that you drink out of a glass?" the Doctor asks kindly.

"Well, yes, but no one has found me before you, mister," the girl shrugs, "And it's better here than outside, on the streets, where it's cold and food isn't easy to come by."

"Hmm," the Doctor pauses, and then straightens up to his full height, "Would you like to have a home?"

"Oh, yes mister! Can you find me a family? A home? I'd like that, I really would," she affirms cheerfully. The Doctor smiles despite himself. The innocence of children had that affect on him, always.

"Okedoke, let me just go check on something and then I can find a place where you can get a home. I have to return to my home for juuuuust a bit," the Doctor shrugs. He gently takes her small hand in his, and felt his heart warmed somewhat by the fact that her hand was so small his completely enveloped hers. She smiles up at him, beaming, with a wide toothy smile- all of her baby teeth were in and none of her grown up teeth had yet fallen, the perfect child smile. She looked so innocent for one who had been through so much.

They walk down the streets together, her skipping somewhat and smiling, her hair bouncing around. She is the perfect picture of an innocent little girl, and the Doctor smiles to himself. He hadn't felt like a father in such a long time, but there it was. That protective instinct, that loving instinct, the feeling he hasn't felt since long before the Time War, long before all that had happened.

"Well, we'll need to give you a name, won't we? Can't bring you to a family and tell them you have no name," the Doctor laughs. The little girl giggles as well.

"Do you have a name that you like in particular? Like Helen or Valerie or Darcy or Barbara?" the Doctor asks absentmindedly as they make their way towards the TARDIS.

"I like those flowers I was sitting in, for so long. What are they called, sir?" she asks cheerfully.

"Lilies. Tiger lilies, to be exact," the Doctor nods, "Lily's a pretty name. Do you like it?"

"Oh, yes! Yes I do!" the girl smiles, "But I can't only be called Lily. Don't people usually have two names?"

"They usually have three- a first name, which people usually call other people, then a middle name that's rather secret, and then a surname- last name- that tells people what family they're from. You'll get a surname when you get a new family. But what would you like your middle name to be?" the Doctor asks.

"Well, there was another flower there that I liked, lots of people bought it, though, so I couldn't hide there. I remember, they are called roses. Could I be called Lily Rose?" she asks hopefully. The Doctor swallows. He wishes she hadn't asked that. But he really won't see her again after he finds her a home, so what's it to him?

"All right then, Lily Rose!" the Doctor laughs, "Just wait out here, I'll be right back," he instructs as he goes inside the TARDIS, which they had just stopped in front of. Lily, however, can't contain her enthusiasm. She runs inside after him, like a lost puppy, and gasps. The giant space inside just couldn't fit inside that small blue box. It just... it couldn't! She giggles and runs over to sit on the Commander's Chair. Maybe it was magic. She would believe in anything, now.

And then the TARDIS takes its chance and begins to whir, whir and hum and groan. The Doctor emerges from a hallway and gasps, seeing Lily sitting on the chair and the TARDIS disappearing away from the grand city of Chicago.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" he gasps, running forward and looking at the readings on the TARDIS screen, "Oh come on old girl, where are you taking me now?"

"What is this place? Is this your home?" Lily asks cheerfully.

The Doctor looks over at her, and sighs, realizing that he might as well get used to her presence, "Yes, well, sort of. I guess it is. It's called the TARDIS."

"Tar-dis," Lily repeats, frowning.

"It's... well, it's a spaceship. And a time machine," the Doctor sighs.

Lily gasps, "Cool! Hey, mister, I never asked, what's your name?"

The Doctor looks over at her and frowns, "The Doctor."

"The Doctor? That's it? What about your middle name, or your sir-name?" Lily asks in confusion.

"Nope," the Doctor pops the 'p', "I just go by The Doctor. But that's a very long story."

"Ah," Lily nods, "So, did the Tar-dis just start up by itself?"

"Looks like it," the Doctor runs a hand through his hair in exasperation, "It doesn't do this often, but when it does it's important."

"Ah," Lily swings her legs against the chair, "Do you have a bathroom, Doctor?"

The Doctor looks up in shock- he hadn't been asked that question in a while, "It's just down the hall, over there," he points absentmindedly, "Immediately to the right."

"Okedoke," Lily gets up and skips down the hall. She evidently finds the bathroom, for she comes back soon after with a clean face and an even wider smile. At this moment, the TARDIS begins to moan and groan as it comes to a faltering stop. Lily stumbles forward at the lurching of the machine, but the Doctor is quick and reaches out to catch her.

"Thank you, Doctor," she smiles happily and stands up, "I don't suppose you have shoes?"

The Doctor sighs and runs a hand through his hair, "Where'd your shoes go, then?"

Lily shrugs, "I dunno. Where'd my memories go?"

"Good one," the Doctor laughs, "Okay, yeah, lemme see..." he runs down the hall to the female wardrobe, which he hasn't entered in eons, ever since Rose. But he doesn't think of this as he finds a pair of child sandals and runs back out, handing them to Lily.

"Well, I suppose we should go see what's out there... if it's dangerous, though, we have to come back inside, no matter how cool it is, alright?" the Doctor asks.

"Okedoke," Lily nods, "One last question, though, if it's okay."

"Yeah?" the Doctor asks.

"Where are you from? You don't sound like all the people I met in the flower place," Lily frowns in childish puzzlement.

"Well, I sound like I'm from Britain, but I'm actually from far, far away," the Doctor laughs.

"Where? Are you an... an... what's it called... alien, right?" Lily asks.

"Yup," the Doctor grins cheekily, "Is that okay with you?"

"Oh yes! That's cool!" Lily claps and jumps up and down.

"Alright then. Let's go see if what's outside is cool, too?" he suggests, holding out his hand for her to take. She nods and takes his hand, and he envelopes hers with his.

"Let's see, then," the Doctor nods. They go over to the door and open it, stepping into the sun.

A/N: Well, this is starting out as an experiment- please review, though, reviews feed my desire to write! Plus they'll tell me whether or not this is, to coin the British phrase, 'complete rubbish." Yay! Please review!