If a fish swam out of the ocean, grew legs, and started walking;
And the apes climbed down from the trees, grew tall, and started talking;
And the stars fell out of the sky and my tears rolled into ocean;
Now I'm looking for the reason why you would set my world into motion.

-Black & Gold, Ellie Goulding (2010).

She didn't notice anything amiss at first. Some of the blame could be placed upon the fact that she was in a foreign country, mostly blind without her thickset glasses, and, like the majority of the human race, was too absorbed with her own life, needs, and goals. A large portion of the remainder could be rested on the fact that the changes were so small, it would be a wonder that anyone had noticed at all if they were just another, mostly blind, human foreigner.

But possibly, the biggest and most obvious reason of all that she didn't notice, was because it happened when she was sleeping...And when she woke up, she was in a pasture that looked nearly identical to the one she had been in previously. The only difference was that the sheep, which had originally been surrounding her and sniffing her curiously, were on the opposite side of the fenced pasture and that she couldn't find her purse anywhere.

The woman adjusted her photochromic prescription lens, blinking owlishly around her in perplexed confusion. It had cost her a small sum to get said glasses in the first place but worth it. Being born visually impaired because of a lack of melanin to protect her retina, was unfortunate, especially since her vision would continue to decrease with age. Not to mention her increased risk of eye cancers because of UV damage from the lack of melanin as well. Really, sunglasses and prescription glasses were a must for her, this way she could have the best of both worlds.

Currently, however, her prized glasses were doing nothing to help in the way of her search for her purse, which was still suspiciously absent. She mused to herself that it was a miracle that whatever villain which had taken her purse missed her vintage camera. It used to belong to her grandmother and was still in surprisingly good condition from being over three decades old. Perhaps that was why it was missed, who would want an old X100S when so many more advanced models were available? Still, she held a fondness for the old ways of printing and developing pictures, not to mention that this camera held much sentimental value from being passed down from mother to daughter for three generations if she included herself. She found herself grateful that this camera might yet make it to being passed down a fourth generation.

A sense of irritation at herself, for having fallen asleep in the first place, developed from her sorrow over her lost purse. She wouldn't lose any money since she had a debit and you needed a code to access that, but it would undeniably be a hassle to get it all straightened out. A new debit card, driver's license, phone... Not to mention a new hotel key. Damn, she mentally cursed, hoping that the villain of a thief would only take the meager few pounds that she had left over from getting lunch and then dump the purse. If he was clever enough to use the key to find the right hotel she was staying at and got into her room...

What a disaster.

Letting out a long-suffering sigh before letting out a small cough, she turned to gaze speculatively at the flock of sheep which had taken to huddling on the side of the pasture opposite to her, as if they perceived a threat somewhere while they bleated plaintively. "Why...?" She murmured to herself, unsure as how to finish her question. Intrigued, she began to approach them only to stop when the sheep proceeded to retreat away from her whenever she went near them. Previously, it had been all she could do to get some personal space from the animals. What would cause such a change in behavior?

"Oi!" A man's voice called, causing her heart to leap in her chest and breaking her from her puzzled thoughts. The young woman whirled around to see a tall man hurrying over to her, waving his arm in the air to get her attention. "We need to talk."

Well, it wasn't as if she hadn't expected this to happen at some point. She was just happy that this didn't happen while she was sleeping... Although, on second thought, if he was here earlier, he might have prevented the robbery of her purse and the thief would have inadvertently become her alibi. As it was, however, she would simply have to get creative, as she really wasn't supposed to be here. At all.

"Yes, we do," she asserted in an authoritative tone, forming her expression into a frown. The man seemed surprised by this, as if he hadn't expected this particular response. His surprise only grew more pronounced by what she said next, "I am Gilly Hopkins, the Livestock Inspector." The woman, now so-named Gilly, made a move as if to reach something before making her expression even more sour and crossing her arms. "I would show you my ID, but your ram decided to try it on for size," she stated dryly before covering a cough with the back of her wrist and clearing her throat.

"Er, what?" The man blinked.

"Your ram ate my ID," she clarified. "I suspect by now it has made its home in his stomach."

"What?" He choked, likely shocked, in the young woman's opinion, that his ram would pull a move that most would expect of a goat.

"That was what I said too, followed by a few expletives. Now, we have a problem. Besides my lost ID, your sheep are behaving rather strangely. I would suspect this to be a case of animal abuse, since they had only begun to act this way around the time you had arrived—"

"What?! You're making a big mistake, I'm not—"

"However," Gilly interrupted the man loudly, continuing on her previous train of thought before he had cut her off. "From the specimen that I have examined, this does not appear to be the case. They are well fed, uninjured, properly maintained, and have, until recently, displayed no outward sign of any untoward treatment. As this is a surprise inspection, I have to say this had bode well for you until, of course, this new behavioral pattern developed."

"Look," the man started, his eyebrows furrowed deeply. "I really think you've got the wrong impression here. I'm not—"

"Oi!" Another voice called, this one considerably more angry. "What do you think you lot are doing on my property, eh?!" The two of them looking up to see a large, bear of a man come down the hill towards them, looking suspicious and furious. He had a gun. Gilly grimaced, it appeared things had just gotten a lot worse. Still, she wasn't beaten yet.

"Ah, so you are the real owner, then?"

"I bloody well better be!"

"Then you should know that this man here has tried to commit a crime by impersonating you and is trespassing on your property." She gestured with an awkward cough to the gaping man beside her.

"What?!" He cried out in horror the same time the owner shouted it in outrage.

"Is that really all you can say?" The young woman directed in an irritated manner towards the first man. "Honestly, for a criminal, you are pretty daft." She was finding it difficult to talk and act like this, but it was quite fitting for the image she was attempting to project: confident, self-assured, and the slightest bit arrogant.

The tall, slender man could only sputter while the much shorter and bulkier man demanded, "Explain yourself, who are you?"

"Gilly Hopkins, Livestock Inspector. I would show you my ID, but one of your rams ate it."

The owner narrowed his eyes. "It's not breeding season, the rams are being kept separate from the ewes."

The woman raised her eyebrows in a disbelieving manner. "Yes, and? It is my job to inspect everything, not just this one pasture, sir. However, to insure security, it would be best to identify yourself. I cannot be sure that you are not like our friend here, otherwise."

"I'm Ralph Dunbar, the owner of this property," he growled irritably. "You know, this inspection you're claiming of wasn't expected. How can I be sure that you're not in league with this bloke? 'Seems too convenient with your identification noticeably absent.'" He was mocking her with his last sentence, derisively mimicking her posh word choice.

She sighed, thankful that her lens were currently tinted to counteract the bright sunlight, otherwise both men would have seen her eyes widening in alarm. As it was, they only observed her clenched jaw and raised eyebrows, likely they would think her a mixture of indignant and incredulous. "Because," she started forcibly before coughing once again and taking a moment to clear her throat of any tremor. "In that case, I would have declared him to be my associate if we were indeed working together. More likely, I would have been his understudy or assistant so as not to rouse suspicion by working against expected gender roles. Furthermore, all inspections are to be unannounced as per company policy to ensure that our clients are following regulations and are legitimate in their claims. Not to say that we are doubtful of your genuineness, Mr. Dunbar, sir, but it is insurance against others who may not be as forthcoming in their work."

The owner was still unconvinced and suspicious, for good reason. "And you expect me to believe that a company from the UK hired some American to carry out these inspections?"

"I am Canadian, but I lived near the border, so I suppose it is an understandable mistake to make. I was transferred here some time ago, along with a select few others, to continue to work in the Sussex branch of the company. However, if my being a foreigner offends or unsettles you in some way, I am positive that a 'native' replacement could be arranged."

The tall man was floored by this, completely in disbelief. He spoke for the first time since he had been insulted, "You have got to be kidding me."

The young woman replied in a rather cheeky manner, "If you want me to be a midwife for your goats, it is going to cost you."

If the situation had been different, the taller man might have laughed at the clever quip, but as it was, he could only frown, put off by how the conversation had derailed, crashed, and burned. Honestly, he hadn't expected it to take this direction at all. He had visualized many responses but never, in a million trillion years, could he have foreseen this result.

Meanwhile, however, the shorter man had quickly become exasperated with the whole situation and decided to throw in the towel. It was too much trouble at this point. He just wanted them, whoever they were, gone and fast. He stored his handgun in its holster with another irritated growl, not wanting any part of this idiocy any longer. "Look, Hopkins, is there anything else you need to inspect?"

Relieved that a way out presented itself, Gilly seized it, carefully. "Hmm, I suppose not," she drawled, as if she didn't want to bolt first chance she got, as if she wasn't scared out of her mind with a good dose of panic, as if she wasn't an imposter with no clue of what she was doing. "You can expect a report and an analysis within the week, sir."

"Yes, yes," he snapped waving his hand in an agitated fashion. "Just go, both of you. I got a job to do... And I don't want to see either of your faces again. Make sure 'the company'-" his tone had become sarcastic "-sends someone with an actual ID next time."

She many have been pushing her luck, but Gilly told him, "Right, but before I go, I would warn you to watch that ram of yours. He will likely be experiencing indigestion soon enough. I am sure you know as well as I do which one I'm speaking of..." She smiled before coughing slightly. "He is a bit forward. Good day, Mr. Dunbar, sir." Then, quickly, before the surly owner could change his mind, she strode away as fast as she could manage without giving away her ruse. As soon as she was over the hill and out of sight, though, the façade dropped, and she was sprinting back the way she had originally entered the pasture in the first place.

Hopping the fence that was running parallel to the dirt road, Gilly exhaled, muttering to herself, "That was a close one..." Fiddling with her camera, she let out a sigh and began the long walk back to the nearby town, since she was unable to call a taxi with her cell phone located inside her currently missing purse. "Bugger," she swore, borrowing a curse word that she had heard many a person use on her long stay in the United Kingdom.

"Oh, don't swear," a voice groaned behind her, causing the girl to jump. It was the tall man from before. He had somehow managed to seemingly materialize behind her without alerting her of his presence until he spoke. Discretely, she glanced down in a bewildered manner at his feet. Despite the road being gravel, his footsteps were almost indiscernible underneath the sound of her own footsteps. She had feeling if they were on a different surface, say grass, carpet, or tile, his footsteps would be completely inaudible. The art of soundlessly sneaking around was obviously something he was well versed in. Maybe her fib of him being a criminal wasn't actually that far off the mark after all. He continued, oblivious of her internal analysis, "What happened to that posh, if snooty, dictation from before?"

Oh, he was trying to take the mickey of off her, likely revenge from the insult and sassy comment from earlier… Plus throwing him to the wolves. Not to mention, he was probably unconvinced of her performance, either. Well, as the British were fond of saying, 'in for a penny, in for a pound.' If she was going to lie like she did earlier, she was going to keep that lie alive for as long as possible until either this man gave up or it was impossible and useless to keep the lie going. Whichever came first.

"I have good reason to be upset," she told him. "My superior is not going to be happy with my report."

The taller man rolled his eyes. "Are you still on that? We both know it's complete rubbish."

"I have no idea what you are on about…" She declared airily.

"Oh, I believe you do, 'Miss Hopkins'," he said her name with sarcasm, not believing it to be her real name. "You're not really a Livestock Inspector, are you?" He pressed, his longer strides effortlessly keeping up with her quick, yet shorter ones.

"You are mistaken," she insisted. "How many Livestock Inspectors have you met before me? Do you have anyone to compare me to?" At his hesitant expression, she nodded. "I suspected as much. Stop following me or I will report you, criminal."

"'Criminal'?" He sputtered before muttering under his breath darkly. Louder, he said, "Look, just – just stop for a moment, eh? I really do need to talk with you, imposter."

Huffing, she turned around, finally deciding that the ruse was likely up. "What? What do you want, huh? Look, I'm sorry I used you as a scapegoat, I just…needed to get out of there. I'm having a bit of a bad day right now, and I doubt you wanna be on the receiving end of it…"

He blinked, surprised at how quickly her accent became more pronounced and less pretentious than before. Likely this was how she normally spoke. Just as he suspected, the person from before was all an act to weasel out of trouble, a bluff. He smirked inwardly at her clever ploy before growing serious once more. Appearance wise, his expression only grew more intense. "I'm afraid your 'bad day' is only going to get worse."

The young woman looked shaken by this, letting out a small hiccough, "Is that a… Is that a threat?"

"No," he assured her. "It's a fact." When the girl retreated fearfully away him several steps, he realized that he was going about this entirely the wrong way. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "That came out wrong…" He sighed before smiling and holding out his hand. "Hello, I'm the Doctor."

"Uh, I'm… Gilly Hopkins," she stated, cautiously taking his hand and giving it a small shake before dropping it as if it was hot.

'The Doctor' looked surprised. "That's your actual name, not an alias?"

Gilly flushed. "Well, my full name's Glenda, I just go by Gilly. Besides, lies are more convincing if you have a bit of truth woven in."

"Well, Glenda, I'm afraid to say that your life is in danger and that you're going to need more help than clicking your heels three times," he told her regretfully, making no move to approach her as she retreated another couple of steps back.

"Wh-What're you trying to say?" Her voice wobbled, heart beginning to pound double time as an all-consuming sensation of dread enveloped her.

"You are irradiated with dangerous levels of chronon radiation. Right now you're in the beginning stages of radiation sickness. If you don't trust me, you are going to die a horrible and painful death in under forty-eight hours."

A/N: Well, here's my effort of a realistic person falls into Doctor Who universe. The main differences? She's not fan (actually, she doesn't know anything about Doctor Who...) and she has issues that are potentially life threatening and dangerous that have nothing to do with foreknowledge.

I've been inspired by a story called, 'Living Fiction' and have the resolve to read the other stories in Emptyvoices's community as soon as I'm able. I'm taking the idea of 'Artron Poisoning' and elevating it to another level. That's all I'm going to tell you. Anymore and I would be spoiling.