Episode One: The Rutans' Fury *part two*

This is the next part of Episode One. Tell me what you think!

"Mum, I'm fine..." I said for what felt like the hundredth time.

I was sitting on the couch at the apartment in front of the telly, flipping through the channels. I had been home for an hour, and in that time, my mum had asked me repeatedly if I was alright, if I needed something, if I needed a doctor.

"Lisa, tell me what happened." She sat down on the coffee table in front of me.

"I honestly can't remember," I lied. So much for being honest. "I was talking to Nikki on the phone, and then there were these explosions and now I'm here."

"Oh, sweetheart..."

Just then, I heard the door open, and Nikki stormed into the living room, carrying a small gift bag, glaring at me, bits of snow melting in her short black hair.

"Merry Christmas," she growled and tossed me the bag.

“I thought you were grounded," I said.

"I am, but your little incident made Dad change his mind. Still, thanks to you, I'm two blocks away from the party, and Dad's waiting out in the car for me to finish 'visiting' you. The way he says it, it makes it sound like you're on your deathbed! And I can't even slip off to get a soda!" With that, Nikki slumped onto the couch next to me and began dejectedly flipping through the channels on TV.

"Thanks," I said, holding up a pair of old striped socks.

"Welcome."

A car honked outside our window.

"That would be my father." Nikki rolled her eyes. She got up, but not before hitting me with the remote playfully, waved goodbye to Mum, and left our flat.

I switched the telly to the news, and my mother walked into the kitchen muttering something about chips.

“It's Christmas again, folks," said the news reporter, "and you know what that means. Aliens. And tonight, that's what I'm here to talk about."

"Mum!" I called. "Get in here now!"

"What is it?" she whined and strode in, her lips still greasy from the snack.

"Just... listen." I pointed to the TV.

"It seems as though Christmas is now thought of as a time of fear," the reporter was saying. Images from the past holidays flashed across the screen behind him. The people lined up on the tops of buildings, ready to jump, the Christmas Star, sending bolts of blue electricity out into the city, and a large ship, the Titanic, plummeting down through our atmosphere, straight at London. "This year, for the fourth time in a row, we have been contacted."

Mum gasped as a picture of a deadly-looking creature with green leathery skin, orange eyes, and a sucker-like mouth shimmered on the screen. On the top of its head, prominent ridges flanked the skull, and one red eye was centered above its forehead.

"This footage was transmitted directly to us a moment ago, with the caption..." the newsman put his hand to his ear, receiving information. "Well.... Roughly translated into English, it says... 'Surrender electricity of Earth or all humans will... die.'"

There was a silence. A silence that no doubt hung over ever viewer of this channel as they huddled in their homes, wondering what would happen, and if this would be a truly 'merry Christmas' after all. No one knew what to do. There was nowhere to go, and no sign of anything progressing.

"I'll be right back." I stood up quickly.

"Where are you going?" Mum wailed as I strode over to the door.

"I... I don't know, but I can't stay here."

"So what, you're going to the shop?" she snapped.

"Sure," I sighed. "The shop, to get you more chips."

And with that, I left the building, blindly running down the alley.

"Oh, God," I whispered to myself.

The line in front of the grocery store was out the door, people no doubt stocking up for the coming 'alien invasion'. I turned back around, and meandered down the street, head spinning. I didn't know what to do. I sat down on a bench, and began to cry, hopelessly, for the first time in years. It wasn't that I was afraid, but because it all happened so suddenly, and there wasn't any way to get out of this mess.

"Er, oh dear, that's not right."

I looked up suddenly and there, standing right in front of me, was the same lanky, wild haired man I had been seeing for years at the site of every alien crisis in London. He was wearing squarish black glasses, and was frantically poking a metallic, high-thechy looking box with a small silver stick. It had a little blue bulb at one end, and lit up, sending out a light buzzing noise in the cold silence of the night. And then, seemingly noticing me for the first time, glanced up at me and grinned.

"Hello, you wouldn't happen to know where the nearest telly is, would you?"

I blinked.

"Apparently not..." the Doctor said, and continued down the street as if following a very confusing map.

Quickly, I dried my eyes, stood up, and ran after him. "Oi!"

The Doctor spun around and flipped his glasses off. "Yes?" he asked as I caught up to him.

"Question: Who the hell are you?" I remembered who he was, I just needed him to tell me himself.

"I'm the Doctor." He scratched his ear. "Do I... know you? You look slightly familiar."

"I'm Lisa Anderson."

"Uh-huh. Can I use your telly? Won’t take a moment."

"And who are you again?" Mum asked, serving the Doctor a cup of milk.

He was on his knees in front of our TV, holding his metal wand between his teeth and fiddling with a few wires from his silver box. His glasses were on, and he looked very intently at the two wires he was slowly tapping together.

"The Doctor," he replied through clenched teeth.

"Doctor what? And why do you need our telly?" Mum grumbled.

"Mum," I hissed. "Be nice."

"Oh no," the Doctor said, taking the metal thing out of his mouth. "I've met lots of disgruntled mothers in my lives, much more... menacing than yours." He gave the television a short burst of light from the wand, pocketed it, and stood up, rubbing his hands together. "Now, who's got that remote?"

I gave him the remote, slightly confused.

And with one last small adjustment, he pointed the remote at the silver box. The telly turned on, slightly crackling with static.

"What time was the alien picture broadcasted?" the Doctor interrogated.

"Oh, around six o'clock," I replied.

"Gotcha." The doctor looked down and pressed a button. "Rewind..." he muttered.

"You can't rewind the telly," Mum exclaimed. "Not unless you've got one of those expensive things like..."

And to our amazement, the TV flashed back to the same news presentation from earlier.

"What the hell..." I whispered. "What is that thing?"

"Sonic Screwdriver!" The Doctor grinned. "Greatest invention in the universe. Well, that and paper clips...."

His boyish smile faded when he saw the photo of the alien.

"Surrender electricity of Earth or all will... die."

"What?" the Doctor shouted. "What?"

"What?" Mum and I asked at the same time. "What." His voice lowered.

"It's alien," I said. "Just like last year, the year before, and the year before. I was attacked by a band of Father Christmases a couple hours ago. Explosions. And then this thing comes up..."

"But what would a Sulurian want with electricity?" murmured the Doctor. "Just doesn't make sense..."

"I'll tell you what 'doesn't make sense', mister," Mum said, stomping toward the Doctor. "You don't make sense, and I want you out of my house this instant!"

"Alright, I'm off, then," he said, and grabbed the small box and yanked it from the wires, making the telly go static. The Doctor made a small wave to me, and raised his eyebrows at my mother before striding out of the apartment, hands deep in the pockets of his long coat.

And in this moment, I determined part of my fate: I stood up, hugged my astonished mother, and ran out after him. I ran quietly, following him unnoticed down a couple of blocks. He seemed to be humming to himself, a tune that sounded like the Beatles, and admiring the graffiti on the walls of the buildings.

"Y'know," the Doctor said, seemingly to himself, "Lisa, I was wondering if you would like to tag along to help me save the world." He spun around, catching me crouched behind a bench. He grinned, a manic grin, infused with the excitement of a kid on Christmas.

Hm, I'd almost forgotten it was Christmas. I stood up and smiled back at him.

His smile slipped a bit, as if remembering something sad. "Just for this one time, got it? Just tonight."

"Hell, yes!" I cried.

"Let's go then!" His grin returning, he held out his hand for me.

I ran up to the Doctor, took his hand, and I let him drag me out into the universe.