Disclaimer: The Doctor Who ideas, main characters, and places all mentioned in the BBC show do not belong to me. They belong to BBC. The only things that belong to me are the new characters and the story line. Enjoy.

Doctor Who: The Time Architect

Prologue: The Blue Box

"Half past eleven. He should be here by now."

Emily checked her watch again. Indeed, it was eleven-thirty. Their comrade should have arrived at least fifteen minutes prior, but no. As always, he was late.

"Why do we even bother telling him to come right at the exact time? We should have told him to be here an hour ago."

Emily couldn't help but laugh. "He'd still be late." She looked over at her friend, Samantha. "You'd think after a while he'd figure out how to use a clock."

"Or buy a watch."

At the pounding of footsteps approaching, the two girls turned to see their late friend arriving at last. He looked like he had just run a triathalon, which he probably had just to get there.

"Speak of the devil," chucked Samantha.

"Well once you catch your breath, Harry, you can tell us your story of why you're late."

Harry looked up from his position. "No story today. Just late." He wasn't panting any longer, but he was still breathing hard.

"As usual," Samantha jokingly scolded. "Now come on; let's get going. We still have time to get some chips before that movie starts. I've been starving while waiting all morning for you to arrive."

"There you go again, nagging about food," Harry retorted. "You could have gotten something to eat if you knew I was going to be late. But no, you insist on yelling at me anyway."

"I was not yelling!"

"Were too."

Emily stayed silent as the two continued to squabble like an old married couple, which likely they some day would be considering how they got along. Emily's mind continued to wander. Samantha and Harry, were so lucky to have found one another.

Emily's life so far had been a dull bore, to put it lightly. A boyfriend here or there, but nothing really serious. She had been too busy with school and work, trying to get into Oxford. Times that she got to spend with her friends were scarce and precious, but at the same time, they were becoming dull and boring. All the three of them did together was the same old things week after week, month after month, year after year. It all melted together until it got to the point where it seemed like they had been doing this since the beginning of time itself.

Emily's mind was so off, she couldn't even watch the movie properly, let alone join in the discussion afterwards. What did finally snap her out of her daze though, was a sound she had never heard before. It sounded like some sort of machine.

"Can you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Harry asked?

"It was over there."

Completely ignoring the bewildered looks on her friends' faces, Emily hurried ahead a few blocks before turning down an alleyway, then stopping in her tracks.

"Em! What are you going on about-" Samantha's short in mid sentence, eyes also on what Emily was staring at, Harry right behind her. "What is that?"

"Can't you read?" Harry asked, acting like his scientifically nerdy self again. "It says 'Police Box' at the top."

"What's a police box, genius?" Samantha asked back with just as much attitude and sarcasm.

"Really, Sam," Harry retorted. "You need to read more. It was used to hold criminals until police arrived."

"Forget what it is," Emily said, somewhat entranced by the box. "What's it randomly doing in the middle of an alleyway?"

"Maybe just a joke," Harry concluded. "Or stored for some party or something?"

"But that doesn't make sense. Why store something in an alleyway where it could be damaged or vandalized?"

"Here's a question." Samantha's impatient voice interrupted their thoughts. "Why are we even talking about something that doesn't pertain to us? Come on, I want to get to the bookstore before it gets too crowded." With that, she turned and left them there.

"Samantha! Wait up!"

Harry left Emily alone, who couldn't really seem to take her eyes off the mysterious blue box. There was something about it, just screaming for her attention. But how could some ordinary piece of wooden history be so special?

"Emily! Let's go!" Samantha's voice called out from the street.

"Coming!" Emily finally peeled her gaze away from it. However a question wasn't so kind, still rolling around in her mind hours after they left that alleyway: what was a 1950's blue police box doing in the middle of a London alleyway in the twenty-first century?