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Events
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The would be Time Lord walked down the street, looking around to see if anything will spark the interest of exploring, nothing along this street seemed to be sparking any interest at all sadly. So Mark just walked along quietly humming to himself, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
Mark just went around the corner when he accidentally bumped into this young lady. He gasped quietly, "I am so sorry.. Are you hurt?" He asked her. She did not appear to be hurt.. but then women are good at hiding things including injuries so maybe she was faking that she was hurt.
Looking down at her he just hoped that he did not hurt her, his hearts pounding as he waited for her response. The seconds became minutes and the minutes felt as though they were becoming hours. He wondered why he was so worried about this one, he bumped into many people, and just with them he apologized before continuing on his way, but why stop for this one?
“Ach!” Emmy said, letting out a rather undignified squeak as a young man barreled into her. The box in her hands dropped to the sidewalk and spilled the contents on the dirty ground. It wasn’t that the impact had hurt her, but it had startled her greatly. Well, Emmy, that’s what you get for zoning out, she thought to herself with a small sigh, bending down to clean up the collection of fob watches and tools that she’d dropped. Hopefully they would all still work, or she’d have to spend an extra few days fixing them.
“I am so sorry… Are you hurt?” he asked. Emmy ignored him mostly, smiling politely as she returned to picking up the watches. However, as she continued her task, she realized that the man was still watching her.
She looked at him, an eyebrow raised. He seemed panicked and anxious as he waited for a response. Waited? Well, that was new. Most people just apologized and went on. She closed the box and stood up, smiling at him with a puzzled expression. “Dude, calm down. It’s not like you sent me sprawling halfway ’cross London,” she said, stepping to the side of other fast walkers. “You’re a tourist, ain’t ya?” she asked. “Most people don’t stop to ask, I mean,” she said.
Emmy continued forward, glancing over her shoulder. “I’m just going to my shop. You’re welcome to come along, if you’re not too busy running into other blondes,” she teased.
Mark realized that she was possibly ignoring him, not that he was not used to that kind of treatment. But he really wanted to know that she was alright for some reason he did not know or understand, so he just stood there.
She closed the box and stood up, smiling at him with a puzzled expression. “Dude, calm down. It’s not like you sent me sprawling halfway ’cross London,” she said, stepping to the side of other fast walkers. “You’re a tourist, ain’t ya?” she asked. “Most people don’t stop to ask, I mean,” she said.
Mark watched her close the box up, noticing that it was filled with nothing but watches, he was puzzled about that. When he dated other women they were into hair dressing, some form of art, or something else that was.. more feminine.
He nodded quickly, "I am fine.. I just wanted to know that you are alright." He said as quickly as Mark nodded. He stepped to the side with her, then saw the box was still in the middle of the side walk, he quickly scooped the box up, "Uh.. You can say I am a special type of a tourist.." Mark replied as he looked from the box to her.
Emmy continued forward, glancing over her shoulder. “I’m just going to my shop. You’re welcome to come along, if you’re not too busy running into other blondes,” she teased.
Mark opened and closed his mouth a couple times as he figured out what to say, he kicked himself mentally for looking like a complete fool in front of her as he struggled to say some words, "Sure.." He said with a small smile. Ok that was not what he exactly had planned to say but it will work.
“I am fine… I just wanted to know that you are alright,” he said. She nodded at him to let him know that she was fine. The only thing potentially that had been hurt were the watches, but she didn’t think they’d hit the ground hard enough to be scratched or broken. She smiled gratefully as he bent over and picked up her box for her. “Uh… you can say I am a special type of a tourist,” he said, looking from her box to her.
She raised an eyebrow, but continued walking down the street, letting him hold the box. He looked a bit dumbfounded, but he looked honest enough not to make off with her watches. “Special type of tourist? What do you mean, then? Like an ambassador?” she asked, sticking her hands in her pockets. “You’re too polite to be an ambassador.”
Emmy crossed the street cautiously and pulled out a set of keys from her pockets. She pushed open the door to a building. There were a few flyers on the door declaring that she was a ‘companion-for-hire’ if any Time Lords (or Ladies) were looking for free labor. On the inside of the store, it was covered wall-to-wall in watches and clocks. There were tables full of her work. “Ta-dah! Emmy Bergström, clock-maker extraordinaire,” she said, bowing and taking the box from his hands. She plopped it down at her workstation.
“So, Mr. Special Tourist,” she said, taking out the watches and tools and setting them carefully on her desk. “Were you lost?”
She raised an eyebrow, but continued walking down the street, letting him hold the box. He looked a bit dumbfounded, but he looked honest enough not to make off with her watches. “Special type of tourist? What do you mean, then? Like an ambassador?” she asked, sticking her hands in her pockets. “You’re too polite to be an ambassador.”
Mark laughed, "Uh.. no I am not an ambassador.. but that depends on what you think of my type of tourist that frequents certain parts of the planet often.." He said, looking to her, "It is all thanks to how my mother and father raised me. Otherwise I would be a jerk like everybody else.. even though my dad now a days can be a jerk.."
Emmy crossed the street cautiously and pulled out a set of keys from her pockets. She pushed open the door to a building. There were a few flyers on the door declaring that she was a ‘companion-for-hire’ if any Time Lords (or Ladies) were looking for free labor. On the inside of the store, it was covered wall-to-wall in watches and clocks. There were tables full of her work. “Ta-dah! Emmy Bergström, clock-maker extraordinaire,” she said, bowing and taking the box from his hands. She plopped it down at her workstation.
The would-be Time Lord followed her across the street, looking to the building he noticed some flyers, they were not for hiring someone for work at her shop.. more of advertising that she was an available companion for Time Lords or Time Ladies.. interesting so she knows about Time Lords? When she was inside he followed her in, noticing all the walls were covered with watches, not noticing that she took the box until he looked at her, "Awesome.. so you like to work with watches?" He asked Emmy, "I'm afraid I never caught your name.."
“So, Mr. Special Tourist,” she said, taking out the watches and tools and setting them carefully on her desk. “Were you lost?”
"My name is Mark Owen." Mark told Emmy, "I uh.. frequent this part of town often enough to say I know this town like the back of my hand." He told the young lady with a smile, "I saw your flyers on the door.. What are Time Lords?" He asked her, crossing his arms and leaned against the empty wall next to him.
Like to work with watches? Emmy raised an eyebrow at him. “Bit obvious, yeah?” she said, sitting cross-legged on her desk. She picked up a watch from the desk and began to examine it. It wasn’t one that she had designed. It had been commissioned to her so that she could mend it. She began the process of taking apart the watching, watching him in her peripheral vision. “There’s a chair over there if you’d prefer,” she said, gesturing to the chair behind her desk. “I only sit there when I’m trying to look professional,” Emmy grinned impishly. “But you aren’t an ambassador, so there’s no point in impressin’ you, eh?”
“I’m afraid I never caught your name.”
Emmy tilted her head a little. “Bergström. Emmy Bergström,” she repeated, blowing on the balance wheel. She took out her screwdriver and tightened the balance wheel carefully. “And yours, Mr. Not Ambassador?” she asked politely, returning her concentration to the fob watch. The balance staff seemed to be a little scratched. She sighed and removed it, getting her polisher and beginning to carefully remove the scores from the staff.
“Mark Owen. I uh… frequent this part of town often enough to say I know this town like the back of my hand,” he said, smiling.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Owen,” Emmy said, tipping her imaginary hat poshly. She shot him a toothy grin before returning to her work carefully. “The trouble with these watches is that people just don’t know how to take care of them,” she said. “Do you like watches, then? I design and fix them.”
“I saw your flyers on the door…” he began. Emmy looked up at him, pale blue eyes watching him carefully. “What are Time Lords?”
She paused. It was a common enough question. “My answer depends entirely on whether you’ll try to institutionalize me,” Emmy said. “I’ve got a question for you though. Do you believe in aliens, Mark Owen?”
“Bit obvious, yeah?” she said, sitting cross-legged on her desk. She picked up a watch from the desk and began to examine it. It wasn’t one that she had designed. It had been commissioned to her so that she could mend it. She began the process of taking apart the watching, watching him in her peripheral vision. “There’s a chair over there if you’d prefer,” she said, gesturing to the chair behind her desk. “I only sit there when I’m trying to look professional,” Emmy grinned impishly. “But you aren’t an ambassador, so there’s no point in impressin’ you, eh?”
Mark nodded, "Yeah it was a bit obvious..." He replied, looking to the chair that she was gesturing to, "Thank you.." He said as the man walked over and sat down, "What is the point of impressing people? They just turn around eventually and stab you in the back. Well at least some do anyways." He leaned back in the chair, studying her, "It does not take much to impress me."
“Bergström. Emmy Bergström,”
The young man smiled, "Lovely name Emmy.. A pleasure it is to meet you." Mark said, doing a slight bow from his seat.
“The trouble with these watches is that people just don’t know how to take care of them,” she said. “Do you like watches, then? I design and fix them.”
Mark tilted his head up a little to have a look at the watch, "I have a couple.. not a fob watch just a sports one. They last longer.." He said.
She paused. It was a common enough question. “My answer depends entirely on whether you’ll try to institutionalize me,” Emmy said. “I’ve got a question for you though. Do you believe in aliens, Mark Owen?”
He watched her closely, "I do not judge people in that sort of way Emmy." Shifting some in his seat and throwing one leg over the other, "Do I believe in them? Well what if I tell you a little secret? One that only those in my family know.." Well maybe not just his family as there was one other Time Lord that knew about Mark and what he was.
“What is the point of impressing people? They just turn around eventually and stab you in the back. Well at least some do anyways,” the young man said. Emmy turned to him, continuing to polish the staff. The score had almost come undone and she’d be able to finish up fixing this watch. Then she’d be able to polish the front and clean it up a bit. “It does not take much to impress me.” She felt his eyes on her, and she looked up at him, putting the watch and her polisher in her lap.
“You know, Mark Owen,” she said, raising a pale eyebrow, “it sounds like you’ve been scorned a few times too many.” Emmy smiled a little at him. “Not everyone is out to get you and not everyone’s going to break your heart,” she told him. She decided not to dwell on his comment that it didn’t take much to impress him – her comment had been meant mostly for jest. She picked up her tools and continued her work, screwing the staff back in and setting it together. “Anyway, what’s the fun going through life without getting hurt, eh?” she asked, grinning at him.
“I have a couple,” he said in regards to her comment about the watches. “Not a fob watch just a sports one. They last longer…” he said.
Emmy clucked her tongue. “You just have to know how to care of them,” she said, finishing putting the watch together. She put it on the other side of her desk.
And then he asked about Time Lords. Emmy avoided the question – she had done so many times in the past, and then finished brushing off the question by making up some story about her parents telling her stories as a child. Most people accepted this divergence from their original question. But not Mark. “I do not judge people in that sort of way, Emmy. Do I believe in them? Well what if I tell you a little secret? One that only those in my family know…” he asked.
Emmy blinked, not sure how to take this. Nobody had ever taken her down this path, and trust her – she had a lot of crazies when she mentioned aliens. She leaned a bit closer to him, exposing her canines in another puckish grin. “Wouldn’t be much of a secret, would it? Here, I’ll make this fair. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” she said, and held out her pinky to him. “And we’ll pinky swear not to tell anyone else. A deal, Mr. Owen?”
“You know, Mark Owen,” she said, raising a pale eyebrow, “it sounds like you’ve been scorned a few times too many.” Emmy smiled a little at him. “Not everyone is out to get you and not everyone’s going to break your heart,” she told him. She decided not to dwell on his comment that it didn’t take much to impress him – her comment had been meant mostly for jest. She picked up her tools and continued her work, screwing the staff back in and setting it together. “Anyway, what’s the fun going through life without getting hurt, eh?” she asked, grinning at him.
Mark nodded quietly, "Yeah.. maybe. I guess that is how dads are towards their sons at times huh?" He said with a small grin. He laughed quietly at her little question, "Yeah there is no fun in life without having some hurt."
Emmy blinked, not sure how to take this. Nobody had ever taken her down this path, and trust her – she had a lot of crazies when she mentioned aliens. She leaned a bit closer to him, exposing her canines in another puckish grin. “Wouldn’t be much of a secret, would it? Here, I’ll make this fair. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” she said, and held out her pinky to him. “And we’ll pinky swear not to tell anyone else. A deal, Mr. Owen?”
Mark watched her, he could tell that she as not had anyone that trusted her, Mark knows how that can feel at times. The young man laughed, "No.. not really." He replied. He nodded, "It is a deal Ms.Bergström." He wrapped his pinkie around her small delicate pinkie, at least it appeared that way to Mark.
How dads are sometimes? Emmy looked at him curiously, unsure what he meant. Was he trying to tell her that his father hurt him? She brushed off the comment with a bit of uneasiness, uncertain how she was meant to interpret his light-hearted comment. Hadn’t that been the second time he’d said something about his father? “I wouldn’t know, really. My parents and I get along pretty well,” she said, raising an eyebrow at him. Was this the part where she was supposed to offer advice about foster homes and running away?
She grinned when he wrapped his pinky around her own. Emmy withdrew her hand and set the watch to the side, leaning towards him. “So what would you say if Time Lords are these wicked awesome aliens that travel through space and time? My parents traveled with one,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “And I was conceived on the TARDIS. My parents told me that the Time Lady was afraid that I’d become one, but… I just became the perfect specimen of human. Pretty boring, eh?” she told him. “I was born on a planet called Avalon, but I haven’t left Earth since I was a baby. They won’t let me. Says it’s too dangerous.”
Emmy sighed and shrugged her shoulders, obviously a bit annoyed by her parents. “Anyway, now you probably think I’m the craziest person on the planet, your turn, Mr. Owen,” Emmy said.
She grinned when he wrapped his pinky around her own. Emmy withdrew her hand and set the watch to the side, leaning towards him. “So what would you say if Time Lords are these wicked awesome aliens that travel through space and time? My parents traveled with one,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “And I was conceived on the TARDIS. My parents told me that the Time Lady was afraid that I’d become one, but… I just became the perfect specimen of human. Pretty boring, eh?” she told him. “I was born on a planet called Avalon, but I haven’t left Earth since I was a baby. They won’t let me. Says it’s too dangerous.”
Mark listened to her closely, it was all very, very interesting to the would be Time Lord, "Not boring at all.. I find to be very exciting actually." He told her, he was about to say something else when-
Emmy sighed and shrugged her shoulders, obviously a bit annoyed by her parents. “Anyway, now you probably think I’m the craziest person on the planet, your turn, Mr. Owen,” Emmy said.
Mark nodded, he took a deep breath and let out a slow sigh as he put his words together carefully, "You are not the craziest person on the planet at all Emmy.. I am.. well.. I would be a Time Lord but you see.. I was conceived and born on board my mom and dad's TARDIS.. so technically I would be a Time Lord but I am not because I never went through the initiation as the planet my parents are from was destroyed during a war." He put his hands together, "I understand about your parents.. My dad would not let me out of his ship at all.. until well once I stole my mother's Vortex Manipulator and fled to Earth.. my parents found me, took me back. Then my grandfather, who is also a Time Lord, came and took me for a while. After that.. well my parents let me out on my own." He glanced up at her, wondering what she was thinking.
“You are not the craziest person on the planet at all, Emmy,” Mark told her. She nodded and shrugged a little. She knew that she wasn’t crazy – or, at least, she had pretty strong idea that she was about as far from crazy as one can get. Hopefully. She’d never actually gotten tested. “I am… well… I would be a Time Lord but you see… I was conceived and born on board my mom and dad’s TARDIS—”
Her mouth dropped open. When he’d first mentioned that he “would-be” Time Lord, she’d been honestly ready to brush him off as some sort of a psycho trying to get into her pants. Again. But then he’d mentioned the word ‘TARDIS’ – Time And Relative Dimensions In Space – a word that she hadn’t uttered to him, but was the central core of a Time Lord. Or, at least, that was how her parents had explained it to her. So the only reason he would know the word is if his story was true. She was suddenly all ears, listening to him intently.
“—so technically I would be a Time Lord but I am not because I never went through the initiation as the planet my parents are from was destroyed during a war,” he said, putting his hands together. She continued staring at him.
“I was expecting someone more… alien. My parents told me Time Lords look just like human, but I was expecting…” she sighed and glazed through her repertoire of words. “Someone with a little more panache. But I like you plenty.” she said. Her first Time Lord! She squirmed happily.
“I understand about your parents… My dad would not let me out of his ship at all… until well once I stole my mother’s Vortex Manipulator and fled to Earth… my parents found me, took me back. Then my grandfather, who is also a Time Lord, came and took me for a while. After that… well my parents let me out on my own.”
This was bloody brilliant! Emmy jumped off the desk and hugged him tightly. “I could kiss you, Mark Owen! I knew I’d find a Time Lord one day if I just kept looking! Honestly, though, I expected for them to come looking for me, I’ve put up enough fliers to last me an eternity.”
“—so technically I would be a Time Lord but I am not because I never went through the initiation as the planet my parents are from was destroyed during a war,” he said, putting his hands together. She continued staring at him.
“I was expecting someone more… alien. My parents told me Time Lords look just like human, but I was expecting…” she sighed and glazed through her repertoire of words. “Someone with a little more panache. But I like you plenty.” she said. Her first Time Lord! She squirmed happily.
Mark laughed, "No we appear more like humans.. although we are technically not humans." He said, hoping that he was making at least some sense, "Panache?" Mark repeated wondering what Emmy meant by that word.
“I understand about your parents… My dad would not let me out of his ship at all… until well once I stole my mother’s Vortex Manipulator and fled to Earth… my parents found me, took me back. Then my grandfather, who is also a Time Lord, came and took me for a while. After that… well my parents let me out on my own.”
This was bloody brilliant! Emmy jumped off the desk and hugged him tightly. “I could kiss you, Mark Owen! I knew I’d find a Time Lord one day if I just kept looking! Honestly, though, I expected for them to come looking for me, I’ve put up enough fliers to last me an eternity.”
Mark looked from the floor to Emmy to see her throw herself at him in a hug, all he could do was wrap his arms around her, it was not everyday that someone would react to meeting a Time Lord in this fashion, "Kiss me? Oh well.." He listened to her speak, "Oh well you got lucky today then." Was all that Mark could manage to say as well he could not figure out his words. He looked around when he heard something, "Did you hear that?" Mark asked, the footsteps were loud and coming from above, "Does someone live above this store?"
Emmy raised an eyebrow at him, then nodded understandingly. “Oh yeah. I forgot you were alien. Panache is like… flamboyant! I was expecting someone with a light show or surrounded by fields of glitter roses or something,” she said, brushing it off casually. “But I’ve never been a real panache type person. I like low-key. Though I knew you were pretty odd when I met you. I just thought you were from the country or something,” she explained, crossing her legs as she thought about his words. Of course the Time Lords would want to blend in. His parents hadn’t mentioned them looking different.
She flung herself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug. He awkwardly wrapped his arms around her as well, and Emmy beamed as she hugged her very first Time Lord. Even if he’d insisted that he was only a ‘would-be’. A ‘would-be’ was a hell of a lot closer than a ‘not’. “Kiss me?” Mark asked, looking confused. Emmy nodded, then looked up at him curiously. “Oh well you got lucky today then," he said, sounding slightly awkward.
Emmy smirked slightly. “You okay, Mark? What’s the matter? Time Lords don’t kiss?” she asked, leaning back slightly. She still had her arms wrapped around his neck. “Here.” She kissed him on the lips and drew back, brushing herself off as she sat back on the desk, propping her feet up in his lap.
She heard rattling coming above her and what sounded like footsteps, but she was a bit too preoccupied with staring with wide-eyed fascination at the Time Lord in front of her to care that there shouldn’t be footsteps. “Did you hear that?”
“Mhm,” she answered, nodding her head while staring at him.
“Does someone live above this store?” he asked.
“No, the only thing upstairs is…” she paused, realizing that there shouldn’t be footsteps. She stared up at the ceiling. “The attic. And I don’t have the attic keys.” She tilted her head, looking like a confused dog. “You know what this means? My very first Time Lord and my very first adventure. Wicked,” she grinned, jumping from the desk. “Here’s the plan I have! We break open the attic, and beat the intruder with a watch! What say you, Mark?”
“No, the only thing upstairs is…” she paused, realizing that there shouldn’t be footsteps. She stared up at the ceiling. “The attic. And I don’t have the attic keys.” She tilted her head, looking like a confused dog. “You know what this means? My very first Time Lord and my very first adventure. Wicked,” she grinned, jumping from the desk. “Here’s the plan I have! We break open the attic, and beat the intruder with a watch! What say you, Mark?”
Mark continued to look up at the ceiling as the walking continued, he frowned some more when she mentioned that all that there was above them was an attic, "Alright.." he came to a stand and looked to Emmy as she jumped from her desk, "No.. we have to know what it is first.. Last thing you want to do is get a Cyberman angry.." The would be Time Lord made his way to what will lead up to the attic, pulling the ladder down with the small piece of rope, he made his way up.
Quietly the young man peeked into the dark, then quickly climbed back down and closed the attic up, "Well.. how did a Weevil wind up in there?" Mark quietly asked himself.
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