A/N: Hello! So there's been a lot about Glee/Doctor Who crossovers on Tumblr so I thought I'd try my hand at writing a fic. This should be full-length (as in, not a one-shot/two-shot). I've already pretty much planned out where it's going, so..yeah!

Updates might be a little slow at first since I've got some exams coming up, but I'll try my best!

Enjoy and reviews are always appreciated.

Kurt tweaked the deep blue bowtie one last time, looking into the mirror in the hall to make sure it was straight before slipping his hand into his boyfriend's. They stepped out of their small rented apartment and into the warm spring air. The table was booked for seven and Blaine had insisted it wasn't too far away, so they'd decided to walk there. The weather was nice enough. It wasn't warm enough to leave off a jacket altogether, but not cold enough for winter coats and scarves. To Kurt, it was a perfect evening, his jacket fitting snugly about his arms and torso. Blaine looked across to Kurt as they made their way down the street on which they lived. His eyes lingered on Kurt's body for a moment, admiring the tight tailoring before resting his eyes on his face.

"So where are we going?" Kurt asked for what felt like the thousandth time that week. Just like every other time, Blaine laughed lightly and replied,

"It's a surprise, Kurt." He saw the sceptical look on Kurt's face and squeezed his hand. "You'll love it, I promise." Kurt rolled his eyes. He hadn't expected Blaine to tell him of course, but not knowing was driving him mad.

"You'll find out soon enough. It won't take more than twenty minutes to get there." Kurt took Blaine's word for it. They chatted idly on the way, sharing the details of their days, Blaine of his work as a piano tutor and of a particularly stubborn child he taught today, Kurt of the daily drama in the editing department of fashion magazines.

Fifteen minutes later, Blaine brought them to a stop outside a small restaurant that specialised in Spanish food. It was on the corner of the street and both exposed walls were covered in glass panels, displaying the tables and diners inside.

"Aquí estamos! Ta da!" Blaine waved his hands in the air, a goofy grin forming on his face after using pretty much all of his knowledge of Spanish. Thankfully, he'd known more about Kurt's favourite types of food and knew this restaurant would be perfect. Kurt's mouth was hanging open.

"You're kidding? I've heard how hard it is to get bookings here, Blaine. I'm sure people have literally given limbs to get a table."

"Ah, that's the thing, see. This leg," he tapped his right knee, "it's prosthetic." His face was deadly serious. At least it was until Kurt slapped a hand against his chest playfully, then his lips curved back upwards.

"Okay, okay, let's just say I've got connections," he winked and took Kurt's hand before he could reply and pulled him towards the door. "Come on, we can't just stand gawping at the place all night."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Kurt stepped through the door that was being held open for him by Blaine - ever the gentleman - and was hit immediately by the atmosphere of the space. Music was being provided live by four men with stringed instruments which obviously originated from Spain, accompanied by a couple of brass instruments and a piano, all of whom were perched in one corner. The people sat at the tables were talking happily, the lighting perfect; not too bright, but not so dark you can't see what you're eating. Red candles flickered faintly, adorning the middle of each table, lighting the faces of those around it. Even without tasting the food, Kurt could understand why reservations here were like gold dust.

They were shown to their table and handed leather-bound menus by a cheerful but professional looking waitress, dressed smartly in black and white. The couple shrugged off their jackets, carefully putting them on the backs of their wooden chairs. Kurt looked around again, taking everything in. He couldn't wait to tell everyone at work that his boyfriend had gotten them a table here. Kurt reached across and rubbed his thumb against Blaine's palm, holding his hand across the table. Of course, the table was the perfect width in order for him to do that.

"This really is amazing, Blaine. I don't know how you did it, but thank you." Blaine smiled.

"You were always going on about how fabulous this place was supposed to be, a table was sure to come your way sooner or later."

After five minutes of studying the menu, accompanied by various sounds of surprise and delight at what choice it offered, they ordered their food and a bottle of wine - because why not? They were in a highly sought after restaurant and they might as well experience all it had to offer. They admired the view they could see from the windows, and, looking up, Kurt could see now that the roof was, like the two outside walls, also mostly made of glass, something you couldn't see so well from outside. The sky was devoid of clouds, the stars just coming out and each one shining brightly, standing out against the clear black.

Blaine pointed out of the window to one of them.

"Hey, is it just me or does that one look kind of green?" Kurt followed where his finger was indicating and sure enough, there was a star hung in the sky that was larger than the rest and slightly green.

"Looks green to me too," Kurt replied, "I don't think I've seen a green star before." Kurt wasn't even sure if he'd heard of such a thing.

"Me neither. They must be rare."

A moment later, the waitress came back with their red wine. After the obligatory tasting, she poured it into both their glasses and they thanked her. Blaine raised his newly filled glass. Kurt did the same.

"To us," Blaine paused, "and many more fancy restaurants." Kurt laughed, clinking their glasses together and repeating the toast.

They hardly got a chance to drink as a crash sounded loudly, vibrations sending cutlery and plates smashing to the floor and extinguishing candles. Conversation stopped completely for a second and Kurt looked across to Blaine. Recovering slightly from the shock, everyone started talking at once. Voices were panicky and people disorientated.

"What the hell was that?" Kurt questioned. Blaine shrugged, shaking his head.

"Earthquake or something, maybe?" His answer was unsure, hesitant, his mind stuck on the fact that earthquakes didn't really happen here. In fact he hadn't experienced one in his life as far as he could remember. Before Kurt could even think about replying, the ground shook for a second time. It was much more violent than before, tipping over the unoccupied tables. A woman all but whimpered across the room.

Immediately after the ground stopped for a second time, a low-pitched whine resounded around the walls. It seemed to be coming from the instruments in the corner. The musicians held them bewildered as it grew louder and louder. The sound swelled and intensified and seemed to be coming from everywhere, closer to the floor now. People started fumbling in pockets and bags to find that the tone was being emitted from their phones too. It got progressively louder over a very short period of time until the sound in the restaurant was just about unbearable.

Windows started to rattle and those near the door began piling out of it, some grabbing belongings, some forgetting them in a moment of panic, instead jamming fingers in their ears to try to block out the noise. They were closely followed by others whose ears were thrumming with the volume. Kurt and Blaine looked to each other and shared a look of complete understanding before standing themselves and grabbing each others' hands.

"What's going on, what're we supposed to do?" Kurt shouted over the racket.

"I don't know," Blaine replied, equally loud, effectively answering both questions, "everyone's going outside, maybe it doesn't sound as bad out there." As he yelled, he managed to keep his voice relatively calm, contrary to what was happening in his head. They joined the rush of people getting through the doors and spilling out onto the street. It turned out the sound was only slightly more subdued out there, the sound not exclusively coming from the restaurant, it appeared.

People were running in all directions, sprinting to cars, plugging ears as best they could.

For the first time that night, Kurt regretted walking there.

Blaine looked round slightly frantically before pulling Kurt down the street, past shop fronts with glass shaking in the frames, down to an alleyway between two buildings. Blaine hoped that maybe the walls would stop some of the noise so they could talk somewhat normally. Thankfully, it quietened a little as they made their way down. When they got halfway, they stopped and turned to each other, identical looks of confusion and panic on their faces.

"We're going to have to go home, aren't we?" Kurt asked, slightly out of breath. Blaine looked apologetic.

"I don't know what else we can do, Kurt." They both sighed. Kurt shivered.

"And we left our jackets. As well as missing out on a reservation at one of the best places in town, my new limited-to-only-twenty-in-the-world-and-was-a-present-from-the-designer jacket has probably been trampled by half the people in there." Blaine let out a short chuckle. Yet the humour was short lived as the smashing of broken glass joined the din in the air.

"What do you think's happening out there? Do you think it's happening everywhere or just here? Would we really be any better off going home?" The words tumbled quickly from his mouth and Kurt chewed on his lip and Blaine stepped closer, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulder

"I really don't know. I wish I did." Kurt shifted into Blaine, pressing their bodies together as they silently wondered what they should do next.

Their thoughts were interrupted suddenly by a noise that could only be described as 'vworp' coming from the other end of the alley. It was louder than the sounds coming from the street and was accompanied by a bright blue light. They sprang apart, staring shocked as a large blue shape materialised from nothing but thin air in front of them.

What struck Kurt as the most odd, however, was not the fact that the box had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, nor the fact that it didn't belong in his country, never mind his time. It was the fact that he recognised it, and not from the history textbooks he'd studied from religiously in school. He'd seen it before.

What astounded Kurt even more was that he also recognised the tall, messy-haired man who stepped out of its doors a second later.