A/N: HELLO! *gives a little wave* I'm Sera! Nice to meet you! This is my first Doctor Who fanfiction, so constructive criticism please. I really like the 10th Doctor. His personality is… Fun! Anyway, I'm from America, so I apologize for any British grammar or spelling issues, and just issues in general. Obviously, I do not own the Doctor, or the TARDIS, nor am I making any money off of this. All I own are my ideas, and Plithing (Pronounced : PLY – thing). Allons-y!

Rain poured down over the dreary, little city of Plithing, Ohio. Dark clouds hung ominously over the skyline, but none of the buildings were tall enough to reach them. Lightning speared the horizon, followed by the bestial growling of thunder, shaking the foundations of buildings to their cellars. On the ground, people rushed to wherever their small lives were taking them, heads set permanently down, shoulders scrunched to preserve what little warmth they had left. Wind whistled by them, nipping at any exposed skin, and lifting up the numerous old newspapers and crisp bags that littered the street. A permanent mixture of fog, smoke, and chemicals filtered through the air, leaving a foul taste and sticking to anything it touched – whether it was clothes, hair, even the buildings. All in all, it was one of the good days.

The city hadn't always been like this.

Once, a long time ago, it had been a booming coal-mining town, a bright speck in the rural land. The miners always went out at dawn and came home at dusk, filthy, except for the gleaming white of their smiles. The women sat together and gossiped daily, while the children played out in the mud. It was a place that you couldn't help but feel welcomed into, accepted, even. The people were kind and cheery, always ready to help when needed. And while the weather then still hadn't cooperated, the people had made up for it with bright smiles and warm houses.

When the big corporations from New York came, the people welcomed them. They made promises – new cars, better houses, lots of jobs, a good school. They wanted to transform the small town into a booming, bustling city; so they warped it into something that they called "modern and sleek". But as the city grew larger, the people grew further apart, the tight-knit community crumbling to dust. Houses with porches where the women gossiped were torn down and replaced by monochromatic gray apartments. Local businesses struggled, eventually being bought by even bigger corporations. New people, with even newer cars, trickled in, bringing their snobby children who wouldn't play in the mud, and looked down on the other children. The city changed with every arrival it had.

And then the coal stopped. It stopped, suddenly, inexplicably.

Without the coal, the town died. The rich people moved back almost as fast as they moved in, leaving only a trail of stinking exhaust in the wake of their fancy cars and a memory of their snobbiness. The Corporations stayed a while longer, but only so they could get the legal rights to back out of everything they promised. The townspeople could only watch them go and slowly begin to pick up the pieces of all the shattered dreams.

So that's what they did. Slowly, life came back to the city, though not like before. Plithing's once brilliant spark turned into a muted flame, snuffed out by the slick corporations and dulled by the smog that blanketed it. And the people no longer dreamed.

Hidden behind the overstuffed shelves in Plithing's only bookstore, a lone girl sat alone in enraptured silence. Her wide eyes greedily scanned the page of the book, taking it all in, and she chewed nervously on her bottom lip as she read. Beside her sat a pile of books, all different sizes and genres, pulled hastily from the shelf that she was sitting in front of. So fascinated by her book, she failed to hear the small cough of the old storeowner trying to get her attention.

He coughed again. This time she did look up, suddenly, startled from her own world by the noise. She looked apologetically over at him, sheepishly grinning.

"Sorry, Mr. Gratten." She mumbled.

The man let out a faint chuckle that soon turned into a hacking cough. When it finally subsided he looked at her watery-eyed with a faint smile.

"It's all right, my dear. I just wanted to inform you that it is officially closing time."

"Oh!" Her eyebrows shot up in worry, and her lips formed a perfect O shape. "I'm so sorry! I'll be out of your hair at once!"

She scrambled up and started replacing each of her books one by one onto the shelf. Her long brown hair fell into her eyes as she did this, so she hurriedly tucked it behind one ear. Finally she was down to the last book. Her fingers danced longingly across its spine, the smooth, old, leather soft to the touch. The faintest hint of sorrow dashed across her face as she went to replace the book.

"Take it."

She confusedly glanced up at Mr. Gratten. He was a strict, thin, old man, with a mop of white cotton hair on his head. He never spared time for false compliments or flattery, and some – mainly her mother – disliked his rude manner. When he was with her, though, she saw an entirely different side of him. He told her that she reminded him of his granddaughters – albeit much less spoiled – and he was fond of her visits to his shop. But even he never gave his books away for gifts. In tough times like these, he needed every penny he could save.

"Oh, don't look so surprised." He said, interrupting her thoughts. "I'm growing old, Celia, I'm going to die soon. And you take care of the books."

"Bu-"

"No buts." He said firmly "Besides, you're the only one who comes in here anyway." He sighed and sat down on the wobbly stool behind the counter.

"Really? Thank you! I'll do anything to make it up to you." Celia replied quickly, as if afraid he was going to take back what he had said before.

He cocked his head at her, serious. "That's a dangerous promise to make. I don't advise it." Then he smiled. "And no, it's a gift for you. You've got such a great mind, such a bright imagination…" He trailed off and stared blankly out the window.

Quickly, Celia gathered up her bag and new book, and nearly skipped out the door. She paused for a second, and turned one last time to Mr. Gratten, to say thanks, and then rushed out into the downpour, eager to be on her way.

Back in the shop, Mr. Gratten stared sadly at her receding figure.

"So much good. So much potential. You remind me of my younger days." He murmured to himself. "Just do me a favor. Leave this place and don't return."

Then he shook his head and glanced at his silver wristwatch. His time was up. He took a deep breath in, and everything became hazy. Faintly, he felt their claws sink in, but then the blackness to hold, and he was gone.

On one of the side streets, behind a derelict and abandoned apartment complex, something strange was taking place. If you had been walking by on a non-rainy day, you would have heard the strangest noise, as if a herd of elephants were trumpeting all at once. Maybe, if you had been brave enough to venture closer, you would have felt an unnatural breezed whipping at your hair and clothes. If you were stupid enough to venture closer after that, you would have seen a sight like no other, and probably would have questioned your sanity. However, as it was raining buckets on the day that this miraculous event happened, no one noticed the TARDIS appear except for a small alley cat, who looked on from his hiding place under a trash bin curiously.

After a minute of seeming deliberation, the TARDIS landed on the wet, cracked pavement. The striking blue police box looked entirely out of place in the grey, depressing landscape; it's color making it stand out like a beacon.

Suddenly, the doors swung open, and a very annoyed man stormed out.

"Oi! What was that for?" He yelled at the TARDIS. His tan overcoat whipped around him, already completely soaked.

He glared at the blue box.

"It's not funny! I wanted to go to Paris in the year 3000, but you drag me off," He waved his arms around gesturing towards the building. "HERE!" He huffed. "Does this look like Paris to you? The answer is no. No. No. No. No. No! Aghh!" He yelled, venting his frustration.

He paced for a minute, muttering at the ground, then sighed and ran a hand through his mussed and dripping hair. When he looked up his face was more amused than annoyed.

"Ah, don't mind my antics. So this isn't Paris, but I suppose there's good enough reason for you dragging me here. And, well, I suppose I better go find out what that reason is. Even if I was looking forward to eating croissants. I like croissants. But I like adventures better." He grinned as he started marching off towards the vague image of the street that he could see through the rain. Then, as an afterthought, he spun around, raising one finger in an attempt to be stern.

"Though, when I get back, we are going to Paris!"

A/N; So? Good? Bad? More words per chapter? I know the doctor was hardly in it at first, but I had to build where they were. Next Chapter up soon! Please tell me what I need to change or what you liked. I will try to PM to every reviewer with an account. Thanks!

:D – F.F.