Author's Note: People seemed to enjoy "The Mysterious Mr. Pond." My beta reader suggested I write more about the TMMP version of Alfie; so here he is.
It might help a little to have read the aforementioned story; it is not, however, probably strictly necessary.
Part I: A Beautiful Day(te)
Alfie Owens took a deep breath. When he let it out, it frosted in the crisp autumn air. Alfie grinned. "Today," he said, "is a good day to be seventeen."
Not that all the other days he had been seventeen were not good days; today was a very good day, though.
"What's so good about today?" Gareth asked.
Alfie grinned at his friend. "Because, my lad, today is the day that I asked out Sharon Tully, and she said yes."
Gareth's jaw dropped and he stared at Alfie. "Get out of town!" he exclaimed. "I didn't even know she was blind."
Alfie punched Gareth in the shoulder. "Wanker," he said.
Gareth mouthed a silent "ow" and rubbed his shoulder. "For a skinny lad," he said, "you don't half have an arm on you." He assuaged his pain by shoveling chips into his mouth. "Where you going to go?"
"Go?" Alfie gave him a blank look.
"On. The. Date?" Gareth explained.
Alfie leaned on the brick half-wall they hung out by and said, "Haven't thought about that..."
"Oy," Gareth said, and rolled his eyes. He dropped the paper that contained his fish and chips atop the wall. "Alfie, I realize you are not a man of the world such as myself—stop with the laughing—so I will give you the benefit of my years of experience with women."
Alfie got himself under control. Despite his laughter, Gareth really did seem to have a way with girls; he had a revolving coterie of girls who he maintained affections for. Somehow, he managed to keep them all blissful in their ignorance of each other. "And where do you suggest I take Sharon, oh great one?"
"Sharon. Hm. She's a proper girl."
"I've always thought of her that way," Alfie grinned.
"Fit." His eyebrows rose. "Athletic."
"Hey!" Alfie punched him in the shoulder again.
"Ow! Okay, okay... um, movie and pizza. Or, conversely, pizza and movie."
Alfie considered. "Kind of commonplace, isn't it?"
"Trust me. First date, you don't want to go too far. No farther than Guildford. Definitely not to Reading or Winchester."
"Gare," Alfie said with a laugh, "you, sir, are the dog's bollocks."
"Thank you." Gare picked up his food.
"Or perhaps you simply are a load of bollocks," Alfie said, "I'm not certain which."
"Mm… I love the pizza here."
"I'm glad." Alfie held a slice in one hand, his chin in the other. He had not managed, yet, to get his own pizza past the stupid grin on his face.
Sharon Tully tossed back blonde hair and took a bite of her double pepperoni pizza. Alfie watched in a stupor as the girl in the pink hoodie and tight blue jeans used her tongue to collect excess cheese from the end of the slice. "Aren't you hungry?" she asked, with a sideways look at Alfie.
"I'm glad," he said, with the same stupid grin.
He straightened and dropped his pizza. "Huh? What?"
Sharon grinned at him. "Are you having trouble, Alfie?"
"Yes," Alfie said, "you're a bad girl and you keep distracting me."
She blushed and said, "Aw, Alfie, you say the sweetest things. You're so sensitive…"
Alfie reflected that the ability to cry on cue had served him well, over the years. "Yes," he said, with a sad look, "I've been through some things in my life, Sharon. They… changed me."
Sharon gave him an enthusiastic nod and took another bite of pizza. "I've always known you were different, Alfie. I don't care what Lew says."
Alfie blinked. "Lew? Lew who? Who Lew?"
She laughed. "Lew, Lewis, my older brother! You've met him. Down the shop."
"Right, Lew." Alfie considered. "Was he the big, scary one, or the huge, terrifying one?"
"You're so funny, Alfie. Lew is the big one. But he's not scary. He's sweet, he watches out for me."
And I'm sure every boy who has ever considered asking you out thought a lot about Sweet Lew, Alfie thought. I know I did. "What did Lew say?"
She grinned. "He says you're trouble. Says you got in a fix with UNIT, and weird things happen around you, and that your best mate, Gareth, is an article."
Alfie snorted. "I like that," he muttered. "Not to speak against your brother, Sharon, but exactly one-quarter to half of that statement is utter bollocks."
She burst into laughter. "Which parts, Alfie?" She smiled widely.
Alfie felt his heart thud a bit harder than usual. "I'm not trouble," he said, ticking the points off on his finger, "and weird things rarely happen around me." He shrugged. "The UNIT thing is old news." He considered the remaining piece of commentary. "Gare is a wanker, though, yeah. He comes up with some good ideas, though."
"Like what?" Sharon asked. Disbelief was visible in her green eyes.
"He suggested pizza and a movie," Alfie admitted.
She stared with her mouth open. "This is a Gareth approved date?" She sounded horrified.
"Er. Yeah?" He offered her his best grin.
Her eyes narrowed. "Okay," she said with a shrug, then, "he gets points for that one." She went happily back to her pizza.
Later, done with the pizza, they discarded their trash and headed to the theater.
"I hear this movie is really great," Sharon said, "It's got gunfights and kung-fu and car chases and explosions…"
Alfie grinned. One hand was in the pocket of his windcheater, the other free, in case Sharon wanted to hold hands. It was a trick Gareth taught him. If they had their hand there, you could just sort of casually brush it, and… Alfie caught what she was saying. "Sharon," he said, "I'm going to say something, now, and I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but marry me."
She smiled at him and took his hand. "Not until I see a ring," she said. "I'm a proper girl."
"Not sure I can afford a ring," he said, "but I could maybe get you one of those candy ones at the shop."
She considered the thought. "It's a start," she said.
"You know," Alfie said, "this may be the best day of m…"
There was a grinding and wheezing noise. It sounded like some strange bellows going. A tall blue box flickered into existence before them. Then the light on top went dark.
"What?" Sharon asked in a flat voice. Her eyes were wide.
The door opened and a man strode out.
He was tall and slender, with long, dark wavy hair. His clothing reminded Alfie of the Victorian style he had seen in a film, once: deep gray trousers and waistcoat, shirt the same blue as the "Police Call Box," with a knotted, burnt orange cravat at the collar; overall was a long, green velvet coat. Alfie's eyes flicked to heeled boots, a watch chain at the waistcoat.
"Hello," the man said with a nod at the two of them. "I'm the Doctor; have we met?"
Then he collapsed onto the pavement.