Author's Note: The Doctor's plan is to hide out as a human while the poison from the Time-Lord-killing flower leaves his system. Enter, John Smith. Oh, and remember, I intend for this to be a love story of the Amy/Doctor variety. There's no Rory, and (consequently, I suppose) there's no River Song. I'd hate for you to think you were getting one thing, only to end up with another. Thanks for the feedback so far and please continue to let me know your thoughts. Thanks!


FADE IN:

INT. BIG APPLE APARTMENT - DAY

The open living room has a wall of windows that let light
into the space. It's not posh, but it's big for New York.
One corner is set up like a photography studio with lighting
equipment and backdrops strewn about. Another section has a
sofa, TV, coffee table and bookshelves. It's lived in.

On either side of the room, there are two bedroom doors. Amy
exits from the right room and walks out into the space. She
sees the studio and lights up. She runs over to the area,
but a loud crunching sound stops her. She turns to see...
The Doctor as John Smith. He stands in the middle of the
kitchen and is dressed in ripped jeans and a t-shirt with a
flannel shirt thrown over top. He chews a bite from the...
(gasp!) apple in his hand. He goes for another chomp.

AMY
Doctor! What are you doing?

Amy races over and knocks the apple out of his hand. It
rolls onto the floor. He looks at her incredulously.

JOHN SMITH
Are you mad?

AMY
You hate apples.

JOHN SMITH
I love apples. Bananas are... not
good. But apples are lovely.

AMY
You've got it all backwards.

JOHN SMITH
Why did you call me "Doctor?"

AMY
I... I didn't.

John Smith looks at her, calmly and patiently. He is
substantially more still than The Doctor.

JOHN SMITH
Amy, I'm sure you did.

AMY
Fine, rule number one:
(she smirks)
Amy Pond lies.

John Smith doesn't get the joke.

AMY
Anyway, I was just trying out a new
nickname for you.

JOHN SMITH
What, "Johnny" isn't awful enough?

AMY
You don't like being called
"Johnny?"

JOHN SMITH
You know I prefer "John."

AMY
John? Your name... is John? I mean,
your name is John. Of course,
you're John. Why wouldn't you be?

John Smith tilts his head. He looks concerned.

JOHN SMITH
I'm John... you're Amelia.

AMY
Amelia?

JOHN SMITH
By my preference. By yours, we'd be
"Johnny and Amy."

AMY
That's because Amelia is a seven
year old girl... and Amy's a woman.

JOHN SMITH
Yeah...

He leans against the kitchen counter and looks off for a
beat, lost in thought. Amy watches him carefully.

AMY
John?

He looks up with a nostalgic smile.

JOHN SMITH

Remember when we first met?

AMY
Quite well, yes. Do you?

JOHN SMITH
Yep.

AMY
Remind me.

JOHN SMITH
School dining hall. Those older
boys were making me eat odd
combinations, culminating in...

AMY
Fish fingers and custard?

JOHN SMITH
Fish fingers and custard! The most
disgusting pairing since Kurt
Cobain and Courtney Love-

AMY
Who?

JOHN SMITH
What?

AMY
Never mind.

John Smith laughs and musses Amy's hair.

JOHN SMITH
Nevermind. Exactly.

John Smith opens his flannel shirt to better reveal his
Nirvana t-shirt featuring the iconic Nevermind album cover.

JOHN SMITH
Anyway, those boys never bothered
me again after you socked each and
every one in their big bully jaws.
That Amelia Pond... she was a
proper super-hero.

Amy smiles fondly at John Smith.

AMY
Amy Pond is pretty cool, too.

He looks down, nibbling his lip.

JOHN SMITH
I am so very aware of that fact.

He sighs. Amy looks closer at his shirt.

AMY
Is that a naked baby?

She moves his flannel shirt away, her hands pushing against
John Smith's torso to spread out the shirt. He watches her
for a moment until she removes her hands.

JOHN SMITH
Amy, I've been wearing this shirt
since I was twelve years old.

AMY
Which was... how many years ago?

John Smith tilts his head.

JOHN SMITH
Nine...

AMY
You're twenty-one then... and what
year were you born?

JOHN SMITH
Seventy-eight.

He leans in to look at her.

JOHN SMITH
Are you feeling all right?

AMY
Nineteen ninety-nine.

JOHN SMITH
Seriously, Amelia-

She glares at him.

JOHN SMITH
Are you ill? Have you got a fever?

Amy laughs and leans toward him.

AMY
(flirty)
Are you asking if I'm hot?

JOHN SMITH
I... suppose...

She leans in a bit more.

AMY
Maybe you should tell me.

John Smith pushes some hair gently off Amy's forehead before
placing the back of his hand against her head.

JOHN SMITH
You feel fine.

Amy scoffs and turns to the fridge, opening it.

AMY
(muttered)
Oblivious as ever, I see.

JOHN SMITH
Are you sure nothing's the matter?

Amy turns back to him, letting the fridge door close.

AMY
No, not sure of that...

JOHN SMITH
'Cause I could cancel your three
o'clock shoot if you-

AMY
Three o'clock shoot? I've got a
three o'clock shoot? Of course,
I've got a three o'clock shoot.
Because I'm a photographer. That's
brilliant. This is all brilliant. I
mean, look at this place. Look at
you with your...
(she gestures to his clothes)
Are you a model? You could be a
model. I never noticed...you really
are a different sort of handsome.

JOHN SMITH
I'm what?

AMY
I bet you're, like, extremely
photogenic too. Come over here.

Amy bounds across the apartment to the studio area. She
finds a large, professional-grade camera.

John Smith still stands in the kitchen, staring at her.

AMY
What?

JOHN SMITH
I... did you just say... I mean...

AMY
Stop stammering and spit it out.

JOHN SMITH
You've just never said anything
like that to me before is all...
about thinking I'm... um...

AMY
What, handsome?

JOHN SMITH
Well... yeah...

AMY
Oh. Riiiight. 'Cause we're mates.

JOHN SMITH
Best mates.

Amy smiles. John Smith pushes his hair out of his face.

AMY
Well, don't worry about that,
Johnny. I was just speaking
objectively. Professionally.

JOHN SMITH
Professionally? But I'm not exactly
your typical subject.

AMY
Just come over here.

John Smith sighs and walks reluctantly to Amy. She holds the
camera up and takes a quick shot.

JOHN SMITH
Oi! I wasn't ready.

AMY
I know. It's called a candid.

Amy pulls the camera down as if to look at a screen.

AMY
It's not digital?

JOHN SMITH
What's not digital?

AMY
The nineties. Everything's so
old-fashioned here. No matter. Get
yourself over here.

She grabs his hand and drags him into the studio area.

JOHN SMITH
Have you taken drugs?

Amy laughs.

AMY
Shut up, you. Sit down.

She pushes his shoulder and sends him into sitting on a box.
She takes several shots. He smiles.

JOHN SMITH
This is really weird.

AMY
You're really weird.

John Smith laughs.

JOHN SMITH
So you've been saying for years.

Amy snaps more pictures. A knock sounds at the door.

JOHN SMITH
I think your three o'clock is here.

AMY
Shame. To be continued.

She grins at him. He stares at her with a curious smile.

FADE TO BLACK.