Okay, this is my first fanfic so don't be too harsh. Reviews welcome!

Chapter One: Running

My name is Lyric Jackson. I'm fifteen, nearly sixteen and I am your common or garden nerd. I know every word to the first and last chapters of every Harry Potter book, I prefer reading and twitter to actual human contact. My average internet time per day is seven hours and I do my homework after midnight and still get one hundred per-cent on every test. I saved up for a week to get the mockingjay pin from Clair's accessories. I have the ultimate Xena collection, Blackadder, 3rd Rock From The Sun, Red Dwarf and the Monty Python movies plus TV shows. And I can recite every single word to every single episode of all of them. And I have never run more than a hundred metres in my entire life. Until now. This is not a good day.

A tall girl with long, messily dip-dyed blue and brown hair falling out from under a grey beanie hat with the Hogwarts crest on it, looks up from her book as if someone's told her something she didn't expect. "Oh my gosh." Lyric Jackson mutters under her breath and goes back to her book, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. She pauses at the corner of the street, eyes widening at the content of her book. Because of the shocking fangirl moment, one of many that control Lyric's life, she doesn't glance up, even momentarily, and completely missis the man in a tweed jacket and bowtie running towards her with an angry crowd of lavender people with trunks chasing him. He reaches Lyric and grabs her hand, making her drop her book in shock.

"Run!" the man yells, dragging the shocked and scared, yet still reluctant to run, Lyric behind him. Lyric glances behind her and sees the hoard of purple elephant people charging towards her, yelps once and puts all her effort into keeping up with the long legged man in strange clothing. They get to the end of the street and the man spins round again and grabs Lyric by the shoulders.

"Right. Quick. Science museum. Which way?" he asks, panting slightly. Given this moment's rest, Lyric doubles over, gasping and clutching at the stitch in her side. "Come one, come on, quickly!" the man says, looking back at the lavender gang and running a hand through his already messy hair. Lyric, still unable to talk gestures with her hands. The man stares at her and she does it again. Then the man grins.

"Nope, no idea what you're talking about. You'll just have to run ahead of me and lead us there." He laughs, snatching up Lyric's wrist and dragging her on. Lyric makes whimpering sound like a wounded animals and forces he legs onwards, leading the man and gang of long-nosed lilacs to the science museum, half a mile away.

Just as they reach the white stone stairs leading up to the museum, Lyric trips, falling flat on her face and squashing the life out of her shoulder bag. The man is jerked to a halt as her hand is ripped from his grasp. He rushes back and stands at her side, pointing a whirring stick with a glowing end at the advancing purple monsters. They're smiling now, lavender lips split into sickly grins, their trunks whipping the air, a nasal cackling rising from them.

"Uhm… Uhm… Get up?" the man mumbles, looking from Lyric to the grinning monsters to his stick and back again. Lyric wheezes and slowly gets to her feet.

"What the… hell are they?" she yelps between gasps, hazel eyes wide. "Who the hell are you?"

"They are Sphics. I'm the Doctor and I really need you to go inside the science museum, go inside the little blue police box and pull down the large green lever, right? Green lever, definitely NOT the blue one 'cos that's boring." The Doctor gabbles, grinning at Lyric like a madman. "Well, go on then! I can't hold them off for very long no either you can stay here and reason with them or you can go and pull the green lever in the police box."

Lyric stares at him for a moment then nods, turns and runs into the museum. She spots the police box instantly as it is sat right in the entrance of the museum. Suddenly, a metallic skidding sound behind her makes Lyric spin round to see a small gold key spinning across the stone floor towards her.

"Hurry up!" the Doctor shouts from outside. Lyric snatches up the key and rams it into the lock of the blue box, twisting it as hard as she can. The door swings inwards and Lyric stumbles in, her hat falling to the floor. She picks it up, glances round momentarily then does a double take, staring at the large domed interior of the tiny blue box.

"I'll file that under 'Freak out about later'" she whispers to herself and rushes up to the circular console. Her hand flicks out automatically and yanks down hard on the green lever.

The whole room jerks about, throwing Lyric to the floor, yelping indignantly as she lands on her bag for the second time in as many minutes. The faint outline of the Doctor appears beside console, becoming more solid with each 'vroomp' of the police box. He laughs, a short, triumphant laugh and slams his hand down on a switch.

"Well done stranger!" he shouts over the noise. He stops twirling round the circular, button and switch covered desk and turns to face Lyric. "What's your name?" he asks, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Lyric Jackson." Lyric replies, retrieving her hat from the floor and jamming it back on her head. She flops back against one of the barriers surrounding the console and surveys her surroundings. "Where are we?"

"You, Lyric Jackson, are in the one, the only, the sexy, Tardis!" the Doctor yells, throwing his arms wide. "Anything you want to say about it?"

Lyric shakes her head. The Doctor scowls at her like a moody child and turns back to the console. He suddenly spins back round, scowl still set heavily in place, finger outstretched, pointing right at Lyric who backs away until her back's against the doors.

"How did you see me? And the Sphics?" he asks, jabbing his finger into Lyrics face, "How were you even moving? I timelocked the whole of East London to get those Sphincs off Earth and yet you were still moving. How? What are you?"

Being forced up against a wall by a man who's just made you run half a mile across London being chased by large purple monsters with trunks like elephants is not the best feeling. But that wasn't the worst of it. Oh no. The bit, was his eyes. Now, being a social outcast, I usually avoid eye contact with all strangers and even people I mildly like but this man, The Doctor, I felt strangely drawn to his eyes. They were green with tiny flecks of blue and gold. But they were old. So very, very old and pain filled, like the many terrible things they had undoubtedly seen were permanently imprinted on them. They scared me. More than the purple monsters, more than him appearing out of nowhere, even more than Lord Voldemort had scared me when I was five and read the first Harry Potter book myself. His eyes confirmed what I had suspected since I'd met him. He was quite, quite mad.

Well, that's chapter one. Chapter two will be up whenever can write it.