Disclaimer-type-thing: I don't own Chameleon Circuit, Doctor Who, or anything else I may or may not inadvertently lead you to believe I own. Unless of course I own it. Then I do. You know what I mean.

Oh, shout out to the awesome person making it possible for me to satisfy your inner Whovian, FullWolfMoonGirl!

"Come... On!" I pulled in vain at the leash of the stubborn yellow labrador.

The large dog stayed where it was.

"Fine." I dropped the leash. With my parents out of town, I, of course, was left to take care of the new dog all by myself. "I'll just walk without you." I'd already figured out how this dog worked, despite the fact that I'd only owned her for a few days. I would walk out the door and go for my run, and when I came back, Buttercup, the dog, would be miserably whining at the door.

With one more glance at the dog, I donned a hoodie and tucked my iPod into the pocket, then stepped out the door, into the cool evening air.

Dusk painted the sky in brilliant oranges and yellows. On the horizon, the large fiery ball of the sun was sinking like the Titanic, submerged past its halfway point in trees.

After carefully turning my iPod to my favorite band, Chameleon Circuit, I returned the music player to its place in my jacket pocket, and started off at a brisk pace, softly singing along to the music.

"I've had so many different faces, so many different personalities..." Unconsciously, my feet jogged in time to the music.

"My tastes change, I get cravings." Lyrics echoed in my ears. "There's some things you can't take away from me."

Matching the music, I softly sang the lines. "You can't stop me dreaming. I used to be old, but now I feel young." I smirked at the appropriateness of the next line. "Cause I was a boy when I learned how to run." Several lyrics later, though still all too soon, I was turning, crossing the rode to make the jog back to my house.

True to my usual routine, the journey back to my house was traveled at a sprint. The breeze picked up then, drying the sweat on my face. It felt great.

Ever the digital comedian, my 'psychic iPod', as I sometimes referred to it, switched to "Awful Lot of Running".

Out of breath and preoccupied with my music as I was, I didn't happen to notice the blue police box materializing on my front lawn. Later, when I looked back on it, I still can't believe that I didn't notice it.

Only when a tweed-clad man with floppy brown hair popped his head out the door did it register that my biggest wish had just come true.

The TARDIS was still at last.

Of course, everyone inside was a little bruised and sore, but that didn't stop the Doctor, chipper as ever, from hopping right up to see where they were.

Pulling the screen around the console to get a better look at it, he frowned. "Not registering," he said with a puzzled expression. "Very not good."

Rory hauled himself off the floor with a groan, rubbing his bashed elbow. "What's not good, Doctor? We don't like to hear 'not good'."

"The TARDIS," he responded, trying a few buttons. "She's not giving me our location." Trying to put a positive spin on things, he plastered on a grin. "Looks like we'll have to do things the old fashioned way, then, eh?" He sauntered towards the doors of the ship, swinging them open and popping his head out the door.

He was met with a very shocked (and perhaps a touch of elated)-looking brunette girl, her mouth forming an 'O' of surprise. Music trickled from an earbud hanging down. "Hello!" he said cheerily.

In response, the girl fainted.

Rushing forward quickly, so as not to have the girl get a lovely concussion, the Doctor managed to catch her, if in somewhat of an uncomfortable position.

As he lowered the girl to the ground, the Ponds decided just at that moment to make it to the door of the TARDIS.

A frown formed on Amy's face. "Doctor, what did you do?"

"If I had a nickel for every time..." Rory muttered, cut off by a sharp elbow in the side from Amy.

"Rory, you're the nurse here," said the Doctor, "Do your... Nurse-y... Thing."

"You're the Doctor," retorted Rory, but nevertheless knelt to check on the girl. "She's fine, just unconscious." He shot a pointed look at the Doctor, but it was lost on him, since he was busying himself with sonicking things for readings. Peering at the Sonic Screwdriver, a peculiar expression crept over his face. "Doctor? What's wrong?"

He looked up suddenly. "What? Nothing. Everything wonderful. Actually, not great, very not great, but-"

Rory cut him off abruptly, catching a snatch of music leaking from the girl on the ground's headphones. "Doctor, listen to this..."

"Rory, don't judge the girl on her choice of music," the Doctor scolded disapprovingly.

Amy knelt down next to the girl and picked up her fallen iPod, which read in decorative lettering on the back, Anna M. A frown became more prominent on her pretty features as she continued to scroll through the music.

"Doctor, listen to the songs she has on here," Amy read off a list of peculiar songs, including but not limited to "The Doctor is Dying", "Gallifreyan History 101", "Mr. Pond", "Rory's Song", and "Traveling Man."

The Doctor was silent for a moment, then muttered something about fangirls, someone named Emily, and falling through a rift. Again.

"Doctor?" Amy peered at him in concern. "Again, what did you do?"

"One more nickel," Rory muttered. Amy shot him a look; Something she'd been getting quite good at.

The Doctor ran a hand down his face. "Well... It's complicated. I may have landed us in an alternate universe- Again- Where I'm a... A character, on a television show."

"What?" The couple said simultaneously.

"What do you mean, 'Again'?" asked Amy.

Her question was never answered, though, because the unconscious girl began to stir.

"Here we go again," muttered the Doctor as he braced himself for madness.

Review! Reviews (and fingers) keep me a-writin'!

~Julia

Jabberjay, Whovian, singer, YouTuber, songwriter, can't-wait-to-turn-15-er, actress, stalker, writer, and fangirl.