Oh Good Grief

The humming from the console was a pleasant background noise within the TARDIS, and the time rotor was gently moving up and down as the ship drifted through the vortex. Its pilot, owner, and sole occupant was, for once, taking a break from his usual hurrying about and mad adventures. He wasn't running down corridors, or delivering a chop of his hand to some creature's neck. Instead of that, the Doctor was lying back on a white deck chair inside the console room, reading through a fairly battered copy of The Once And Future King.

It had been that way for the last half an hour or so; not that long a break for the Doctor compared to the amount of time he spent saving worlds. But on a whim, he had decided to take a little downtime for himself. And why shouldn't he? The Brigadier didn't have any pressing issues that needed his immediate attention (though there would likely be several whenever he returned to UNIT). And Jo...well, Jo had gone now. Gone to get married with the Doctor's blessing. She was happy, and probably wouldn't be missing him all that much.

"Need some music," the Doctor muttered to himself, standing up off his chair and going over to the console. Some Beethoven was what he wanted right now. So he pressed a few buttons and flicked a lever. But the TARDIS' humming wasn't replaced by the sound of classical violins and other instruments. Instead it was the vworp vworp of the time machine's engines as it began to materialize somewhere. After a few groans, it landed with a thud.

Frowning to himself, the Doctor checked the console's instruments. He hadn't pressed a wrong button, had he? Of course he hadn't. So how had he landed somewhere? Suddenly he decided that he'd had a long enough break. Placing his bookmark, a Dodo feather, back in his book, he set it down on the console before flipping the switch to open the doors. He went down to them, taking his black cape off its stand and pulling it over his green jacket, before stepping outside.

Closing the doors of the blue police box behind him, the Time Lord looked around. His first thought of where he was was Earth. As for when, it looked somewhat more futuristic than 1973. Not the far-future though...perhaps it was later in the 20th century, or maybe even early 21st. Why had the TARDIS landed here? Continuing to look around, the Doctor started walking in what he thought was the best direction.

Was there ever going to be a normal day? Perhaps even one where Lucius didn't have to deal with the abuse of the other children or the ridicule of his guardian. After the fourth time he had ice cream thrown at him, the small boy had simply stood and removed himself from the situation. Why they all insisted on picking on him was hard to fathom. Maybe they knew he was a freak. Lucius sure thought of himself that way some days. But it wasn't a bad thing, was it, not being normal? Perhaps. At least his mother had insisted he believed those words. So he did to the best of his capabilities. She had never led him astray in his tiny mind.

Scratching at the back of his neck, Lucius kept walking down the busy street of London. The orphanage had insisted on yet another trip to the polluted city but he hardly minded. What he did mind, however, was the sticky substance that stained his favourite button up shirt. The brown smear stuck out in an embarrassing fashion against the bright yellow fabric and it drew the attention of the older folk. They probably thought he was so excited to chow down on his ice cream that he let it dribble on his shirt.

Odd things for a young child to think about, wasn't it? Why should he worry what other people thought? He should be more focused on having fun and enjoying himself, freeing himself of the constraints of peer judgement. They were all the same in one aspect, at least, and that was being parent-less. Well, some more than others.. at least Lucius had a mother somewhere out there. One, he hoped desperately, would come back for him soon. It had been far longer than he was willing to endure, yet here he still was. It caused him to sigh again but his stubbornness kicked in and booted up his faith. She would come back, she'd promised.

The distracting thoughts whizzing through Lucius' fast-paced mind nearly made him miss a rather amusing sight. He stopped his stroll, one which lacked direction, to stare at a man wearing a cape. Was he simply a few days too early for Halloween? Or perhaps he was an actor. There were plenty of those in London, including the street performers. It made him curious so as the older fellow walked on his way Lucius trailed behind. He had come to know the city well enough that he would make it back to his group by quarter to four. Sure, he might get an ear full from Mrs. Bensworth but he often found the trouble worth it after satisfying an itch.