Merry Christmas to my friend Mel, who is a wonderful actress and photographer and deserves the chance to be happy. This story is purely for her, so if you don't like it, I don't care :)

Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all his various people are the property of BBC.

"Listen, David, if you're not there in fifteen minutes they won't air the show! We need you to be here for this one, it's the Christmas special!" his manager shouted into the cell phone. David rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I know, I'll be there in five," he promptly hung up the phone. David Tennant was wearing his signature costume from his most famous role as The Doctor. White converse, long jacket, and suit underneath. His replication sonic screwdriver sat heavy in his inner pocket, waiting for him to grab it nervously before he went on stage, as habit called for. The Christmas Special was something BBC really wanted to happen, especially since he was filming in one of America's newest and greatest studios: Traverse City Megafilm Studios. BBC had adopted them as a 'sister corporation' in order to help boost funding in America and gain them popularity.

The actor's many-faceted mind was elsewhere as he looked both ways before crossing the street. But as fate would have it, one car that attempted to stop at the red light had break problems and came slamming into David, knocking him to the ground and causing the whole world to flash a strange shade of blue and fade into blackness.

Mel sat on her couch, enjoying the Christmas holiday away from arts school by spending a lazy Saturday afternoon watching Doctor Who and wearing yoga pants. She had paused her episode to check the nightly news, a steaming bowl of microwave ramen perched on her lap. Not paying attention, she raised her curious green eyes to the screen when the newscaster began talking about an accident nearby. "A young man crossing the street was hit by a car whose breaks had failed at an intersection earlier today. His body has not been found anywhere near the sight of the accident and witnesses are beginning to question his existence or involvement completely. Is it possible that the victim of this accident got up and walked away unharmed, or is this a cover up for something far more sinister?"

Mel laughed at the woman's inflection on the last sentence, sipping nervously at her hot ramen and switching her television back to Netflix so she could peruse her favorite Doctor Who episodes. "People make such a big deal over nothing these days," she said with a short, sharp laugh. "I bet he's wandering around trying to figure out where he is or even who he is. Who! That's what I need, some Doctor Who. Why am I talking to myself? That's right, because I'm me. I should stop."

She selected an episode, the Season 2 Christmas Special (The Christmas Invasion) in honor of the season, and settled down happily to watch and enjoy the last bit of Rose and the Doctor. About an hour later, as the words, "Not too bad for a man in his jim jams." rang through the house, Mel was fast asleep with her cold bowl of half-eaten ramen sitting on her coffee table and her mouth open slightly. Red hair splayed all over, she jumped with a little shriek when the doorbell rang and woke her.

She jumped down the stairs two at a time and, forgetting that she was only in her pajamas, flung open the door. The man on the porch flashed a charming smile and stepped inside, pulling out a small wallet with a piece of plain paper in it and showing Mel, "Hello miss, I'm just here to check the phone service."

"Uhhh..." Mel looked over his shoulder to the area behind him. No camera crew, no directors, no boom microphone, and nothing that would give evidence of him being filmed for the show. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I am here to inspect your phone!" he flashed the blank white paper again. Mel was slightly confused and starstruck at the same time. Was this man seriously on her porch?

"There's nothing on that paper," she said, pointing. He looked sadly down at the paper, shook it, and showed her again.

"Better?"

"No, there's nothing there at all."

"Well rats, that's disappointing," the strange man said, running a hand through his brown hair, which stood on end as if he had stuck a fork into an electrical socket and held onto it.

"Uhm, you're David Tennant, and you're in my entryway," she said with large round eyes. He laughed.

"No, the name's John Smith and I'm here to inspect your phone! So if you don't mind..."

"Oh, you mean you're the Doctor?" Mel laughed. "I didn't know you were back on earth."

"How do you know my name? What race are you, and what planet are you from?" his hand flew into his jacket pocket, retrieving his sonic screwdriver and aiming it carefully at the confused ginger. She raised one eyebrow as the small device glowed and buzzed but nothing happened, which was to be expected.

"I am a human, my name is Mel, and I know you because..." here she floundered, "Oh! I saw you save Britain last year." At this announcement, his chest puffed forward proudly and he slicked his hair back in a suave movement.

"That was rather brilliant, wasn't it?" he smiled.

"Yes, very impressive. How did you manage that?" she asked, leaning in a very awkward pose that was her best attempt at being seductive. Obviously her very confused idol was not paying any attention, because he walked past her into and up the stairs into the living room. "Would you like something to eat?"

"Sure. And then I'll need you to help me find my...vehicle. I seem to have misplaced it," he said, turning and flashing her a brilliant smile, hands casually tucked into his pockets. She blinked a few times and nodded.

As Mel walked into the kitchen she muttered to herself, "How the hell did David Tennant end up in my living room...and why does he think he's the Doctor?"