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Force of nature by DancingMooncalf
Chapter 1 : Lightning strikes
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 5

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 1.       Lightning strikes



When telling a story you have to make sure you have the full attention of the audience before the first sentence ends. It’s vitally important for the story. For example I would start with the obnoxiously loud ticking of my alarm clock in an otherwise heavenly quiet room. But, you know, I live in London and it’s never quiet in London. Also, my alarm is digital and thus the only thing that doesn’t make noise around here. So, that boat sank before it left the harbour. It would have made for a good start of a story, but not mine.

My story is incredible, though. And you’re stuck with me so deal with it! 

So yeah, hi, my name is Neil. How are you doing? Had a good night sleep, nice dreams?

I slept like a baby last night, didn’t get to bed until two-ish. Bloody exams are depriving me of everything good and healthy. The end of term is almost upon us.

Want to know the saddest part of this terrible opening, I’m actually awake and waiting for my alarm to ring. I know! It seven, well almost seven, it’s a Saturday morning and I’m already awake.

Since I’m already awake with a few minutes to kill, let me tell you my plans for today. I’m starting a new job, my second job if you count the voluntary night watches at the hospital (and I do count them, ‘cause they pay me for it), in order to make an attempt to pay bills without adding to my already monstrous student loan. I did have a job before but it sucked, and to be totally honest, so did I. We couldn’t agree, the job and I (or maybe it was the manager).

Either way, today I’m starting as a waiter. Not really my dream job, but it’s something.

There’s this lunchroom called ‘The Beanstalk’ run by a thirtyish guy called Jack. That’s the place. Their sandwiches are great (just saying).

My alarm says 6:59. I’m keeping my eye on it, I want to see the numbers change. Three, two… one, now! No… okay try again three, twooo, ooone. One more time three t…. beep beep beep beep, beep beep beep beep. Dammit!

That beeping is the most annoying sound in the world. Why can’t it be some cool sound, like the theme song of ‘Doctor Who’? I would wake up a lot happier if the first thing I heard was that ‘who-wee-who’. Imagine that, waking up with the promise of a TARDIS in your room. Well it would be disappointing to open your eyes and find reality waiting. So maybe not.

Either way it is time to get up now. Don’t want to blow it on my first day.

Yawn, I don’t want to leave my duvet. It’s so warm and comfy under here. Far better than the icy air I can feel on my face. What wouldn’t I give to stay under these covers. But you know, duty is calling. Can’t duty just shut up for once?

I’ll just poke my toes out first. Careful, if the air is this cold just imagine the temperature on the floor. My toes touch the stone tiles for a second before I yank them back to the safety of my warm duvet. Why didn’t I put carpet on my bedroom floor? We really should have someone to come and fix the heater too.

Okay I need socks, or shoes, or anything to keep my toes from falling off.

Joel’s slippers. What are they doing in my room?  Whatever they will do nicely.

What about a shower, a shower sounds good. Stumbling and crashing that’s the only way to get around my half lid room. This towel feels dry, I think I dropped  it on this chair last night. It will do.

Ugh, the draught in this place is terrible. It’s like all the windows and door are open and a hurricane is blowing outside. Joel discovered a leak yesterday. This place is about to fall apart, I’m telling you. Makes you wonder what our rent is spend on.

Our shower has two settings: blistering hot and icy cold, but if you balance the thing just right you’ll get half of each with makes for a decent shower. You must be very, very careful not to touch the tap, though, because that will send in over the edge and you’ll instantly regret it!

It’s a miracle what hot water can do for you. I don’t think I want to leave this shower, it’s exceptionally nice today. Do I really need the extra money, anyway?

Okay I do, we’re running extremely low on grocery money and I don’t think we can go that long without buying new toilet paper.

I run my towel through my hair to get it dry. Seriously why else would I do it?  

Let’s take a look in the mirror. My blond hair is damp and hopelessly tousled from my towel. Instead of trying to flatten it I’ll just mess it up even more, it might look like I meant for it to be that way. It won’t lay flat to save my life so I’m not even bothering.  I hope my boss won’t be offended, he didn’t seem the irritated kind of guy, but you never know.

First day at work outfit? Jeans, t-shirt, jumper, perfect. It’s almost Christmas and it’s really cold outside. You know, last night I thought walking home without my jacket would be fine. It wasn’t. I almost froze to death. Literally.

Oh, god I’m hungry! Lest find some breakfast. This will be an interesting quest, I didn’t do any shopping for… ten days? Maybe eleven. Joel might have done some, I don’t think he has though.

There is one egg in my fridge. That’s not going to make a good breakfast. Let’s check the cupboard. Our tiny kitchen has two cupboards under the sink and two minuscule ones above it. The only thing I find in either cupboard is a box of cereal. I think that’s considered living under the poverty line.

No, this is going to be a great breakfast (insert sarcastic snort). Sometimes it’s really hard to have your own place, especially when it comes down to keeping it stocked with food. Even if we have money for groceries I don’t like getting them. It’s stupid and tedious and I always forget something important like milk or bread. Respect to my mom for doing it every week for five people and a dog. We’ve never gone hungry so she must’ve done something right.

After I’ve filled my stomach with scrambled egg and half stale cereal it's off to The Beanstalk with me. 

I don’t think Joel is home. If he is he’ll have a hard time finding breakfast.


It takes twenty minutes with the underground to get from our flat to the nice part of London, with all the restaurants and lunchrooms and cafes. I somehow ended up squashed in between a very large man and a rather smelly old lady with a little dog on her lap. The dog kept licking my hand the entire time. I feel violated.

“Good morning!” I say upon entering the lunchroom. Jacks looks up surprised, but then he smiles with recognition.  

“Mornin’ Neil O’Connor, how are yeh?” He gestures for me to follow him. I’ll follow, I’m an obedient guy. Uh, not in that way, get your mind out of the gutter.

Anyway, he takes me through a swinging door behind the bar, into a small kitchen.

“Here’s your work apron, it’s specially made for yeh. You take it home and I trust you keep it clean and presentable at all time.” Jack hands me a dark green apron. It has my name stitched on it. Awesome!

I take some time to wrap the dark fabric around my waist, finding the right way to show of my name is a delicate matter. Then I get a tour around the kitchen and the lunchroom itself. It’s not very big and it’s painted in several colours of green with fake ivy (or something of that substance) climbing up in the corners and it has a small terrace, that’s closed now because of the cold weather. I mean, no one is going to willingly freeze to death on a terrace, that’s madness.

I get introduced to the chef, a balding guy named Alexander, who is wearing a white apron over his impressive chef belly. He looks like, exactly how you’d expect a chef to look like. He tells me he makes the best omelettes in Great Britain. I don’t believe him, so he’s making me one for lunch break. He’s cool. 

After a quick but thorough explanation on how to use the cash register (I’ve done that before, thank you) Jack hands me a menu to memorise the specials. If I can memorise all the bones in the human body the night before the examination a few specials won’t be a problem, right?

“It won’t be very busy ‘till about eleven.” Jack tells. “Just a few regulars. You can start t’day by settin’ the tables and foldin’ the napkins.”


That morning only a hand full of people come in for a cup of coffee. Not really a booming business, but it’s fine by me. Just after ten I’m toying with the coffee machine for something to do when a young woman enters the lunchroom. She’s got a cute smile, I’ve got to say. She sits down near the bar, her back is to the window, but she keep looking over her shoulder.

Right, work. “Good morning, what can I help you with?” No that’s not it, what was I supposed to say again, “Welcome to the Beanstalk, can I be of help?” Something like that, she’ll get the message. She looks up and gives me an odd look. Did I say something weird? I’m new, I can’t help it.

“I’ll have my special,”  Yeah, I’m new here madam, you have to be more specific.

“ Excuse me, miss, but I don’t...” I begin, but she raises her hand to silence me. Seriously? What a nerve this woman has.

“It’s okay. Just tell Jack it’s Megan and he’ll know.” She looks really awkward, then adds: “Oh, and a cup of lemon tea, please.”

Okay, what on earth is here problem? There must be a story behind this woman, something to explain her.

After that episode it’s not until eleven that it finally gets busier. To more precise as soon as the clock strike eleven a rush of people wash in, it’s like a sign for the shopping people in the street, they all come tumbling into the lunchroom, making it steadily more and more crowded. If they don’t stop coming all the tables will soon filled and people will have to sit on each-others laps. That would be a cool idea for a couples restaurant, only one seat per table.

Right, I have to work, lots of people to serve and only poor old me to serve them.  

I have to work harder than I remember ever working in my entire life, including that one time when I was asked by my dad to help on the boat and suddenly a storm blew over. That had been hard work, but not compared to this experience. I’m running around like a crazy person with big plates and dishes, cups and glasses and a slightly forced polite smile. I try my hardest but a lot of people have to wait for quite some time for their food and drinks. Really, it’s so busy I accidentally screw up some of the orders, handing a flustered looking chap a cup of green tea, that was clearly not meant for him.

Some purple haired woman complains about her soup being too cold to eat. A ridiculously good looking girl refuses to pay for her sandwich because in had mayonnaise on it and she claims that she gained weight just by looking at it. Come on people, cut me some slack, I’m new here!

God am I tired. It’s well past four before it calms down in here. That was by far the most running I’ve done in weeks. Figuratively speaking, of course, because I’m not actually aloud to run in the lunchroom. Unless there is like a fire or something.

My face is so sweaty I have to wipe it on a tablecloth, a handkerchief is not going to cut it. There are only three tables occupied right now. All customers provided with the right food and drinks. I’m being a brilliant waiter, thank you very much.


“Sorry you had to work this hard on your first day, boy.” Jack hands me glass of juice with an apologetic smile. “If I knew Irene was going to be ill I would have found a replacement, but you see, I’m a bit low on staff at the moment. Tomorrow it will be better though. You’ll have some excellent help.”

“That’d be great.” I answer, honestly I wouldn’t be able to pull this off again. It was a real nightmare to figure out the menu, get on top of the social skills required for waiting tables and wrapping my hand around the mechanics of this cash register, and all of that on my first day.

At least my ice cold orange juice tastes delicious.

 I can’t believe it’s already six o’clock when Jack closes the cash register and hands me an envelope. Inside I find thirty-four pounds, twenty-two whole pennies! That’s nice, I didn’t know I would be paid at the end of every shift. Now that’s something I can get used to. Though I would have hoped it paid a bit better.

“I pay your salary at the end of each month.” Jack says, wait, what’s this money then? “The tips are for you waiters, you’ll have to split it with our waitress tomorrow, but today’s tips are all yours. You deserve it after all this.” He waves his hand around at the lunchroom.  Ah, the tips, that’s a huge amount for the terrible waiting job I did.

That’s cool, I can go buy take away food with this or I might have enough to eating out!

“Don’t you want any tips then?” I ask Jack. I hope he doesn’t, but it’s common curtesy to ask. He shakes his head.

“I earn enough, plus I don’t have to pay for a study. You want to become a doctor, I understand?” I nod. “Well, that’s an expensive study, I understand medical studies offers next to no financial support for their students. It really is a shame, but they have to go round on donations as it is I belief.” He looks troubled, it’s true we do really get the shortest end as medical students, it’s not a problem for most of them though, they have rich doctor parents who can pay up. 

“And Alexander?” I wonder out loud. Shouldn’t he get some of it, as the chef?

Alexander has kept me in good spirits all they, making jokes when I came to pick up the orders. I’d be the last person to deny him his share of money.

“He says he doesn’t need more than his monthly pay check. Don’t worry about it.” Jack replies. It’s all fine by me, I have to pay my rent with this money… maybe I shouldn’t eat out.  “Well, have a good night and I see you tomorrow.” Jack says opening the door to let me out. I wish him a good night and stumble over the threshold.

Wow, great move Neil! Seriously.

To do list for right now: Buy groceries, we need at least something for breakfast and some toilet paper would be nice. Make dinner, or order dinner, or get dinner inside me by any means possible. Learn for that test about poisoning that we have next week.

I’ve got this, I’ve totally got this. I do wonder what Joel is doing tonight.

I stifle a yawn with in hand. Wouldn’t it be amazing if, when I come home, my mom is there with a perfectly cook meal. Wouldn’t that be a surprise. I know she won’t be, she’s cooking dinner alright, but it’s for my father and for Amy and Owen.

Oh, man I am tired!



There was no Joel waiting for me when I got home, no dinner either. Just and empty house and an empty fridge and the pizza I bought on the way home.

Then, the next morning, seven am my alarm rings again. This evil devise has some a seriously high qualification as candidate for the ‘most likely to annoy Neil to death’ award.  I’m not even going to try waking up before I set foot in the Beanstalk. I’m a stumbling, blundering idiot by nature, no-one is going to notice the difference.

It’s when I enter the lunchroom that I remember that I will have help today. Maybe this Irene person Jack told about got better or maybe the other waitress. I’m curious who she is, Jack couldn’t stop talking about her yesterday, he seems to really like her. According to him she makes the best caramel surprises, which appears to be a specialty of The Beanstalk. I hope she’s cool, I don’t handle drama very well.

Did you know all waiters keep their pencil behind their ear, it’s rule number one according to Alexander. He might have been messing with me, but I’m not taking any risks. I’m just putting mine in place when the door opens with the soft tingling of the bell. In walks a girl.

A very pretty girl.

Like, nothing you have ever seen before. She’s hot in every aspect of the word. She’s petit but everything works, long slender legs, thin face, long red hair pulled back in a ponytail.

I’m staring, I’m definitely staring. But come on; her cheeks are splattered with freckles (and I love freckles, have I told you how adorable freckles are?)  and her eyes are sparkling, like really bright. She’s wearing a blue pair of very fitting jeans and a white blouse. Her apron is already in place and it all suites her so wonderfully. How does Jack expect me to get any work done around something like her?

Her brown eyes fix on me and she smiles. Even her smile is adorable.

She’s one of those girl that, when they get introduce in the movies they walk in slow motion with wind blowing their hair and birth light shining all around them.

Did I remember to close my mouth?

“Hi!” She says a little timid. I had not imagined her to be timid at all. That’s a bit confusing.

She smiles that perfect smile again, you know, the kind of smile that won’t fail to make any guy swoon (okay, guys don’t swoon, but you know what I mean). I’m sure she has every boy in London after her, with a smile like that. Her lips part and she bites her bottom lip.

I quickly bend down to pick up my pencil, it’s all I can do to keep myself from groaning out loud. Plus, I dropped in surprise. In my defence; I don’t meet hot redhead every day. So I’m allowed to be a bit shocked.  

When I straighten up I find her right next to me. How did she get here?

“Hey,” My voice is barely more than a whisper. A very heavy, awkward silence follows. The kind of silence one could cut with knives. She’s looking at me, her brown eyes fixed on my face. Her brows are knitting together as though she’s thinking about something.

Close up I can see her whole face is covered with a thousand golden freckles. They are sprinkled over her nose and cheeks and some of them found their way to her forehead and chin. I’m staring, again. Well, bite me! For your information she’s staring just as hard.

“So, you met my top waitress,”  Jack breaks the silence. We both look up startled. “This is Lily Potter. She’s the best, I’m telling yeh. It will be like a holiday now that she’s here. Nothin’ like yesterday.” He turn to Lily with a smirk, “He had to work one of our busiest shifts all on his lonesome yesterday. Irene got sick. His first day too, no less. You know how it gets here. Did you have a nice wedding?”

Well that snapped me out of my daze really effectively.

“Oh yeah, it was loads of fun.” Lily replies, turning to him.

I’m confused, she looks barely older than eighteen. She can’t be married, right? Who gets married at eighteen? My eyes travel down to her hand. She’s not wearing a ring, so this wasn’t her wedding.

Wow, Sherlock, what a marvellous observation.

She would have been a little young to get married, granted I don’t even know how old she is. She could be a twenty-something year old with a very young face.

“Who’s wedding was it?” That came out before I could stop myself. My mum would not approve of that.

“Oh, my cousin Dominique’s, married this Greek guy, they met on a holiday. It’s a disaster waiting to happen if you ask me,” Lily rolls her eyes, a perfected motion that gives of the vibe like she does it often.

I’ve yet to introduce myself but before I can utter a word our first customer waltzes in. Those people have no respect for poor guys trying to talk up pretty co-workes.


 “So what is your name? I did not catch it earlier.” Lily asks when she’s put away the cash. I’m lean against the bar, my notepad safely tucked away in my apron. She’s looking at me like I’m the most interesting thing. Her head a little inclined. She looks really adorable.

“Oh, it’s Neil, Neil O’Connor.” I tell her, offering my hand to shake hers. “I’ve been to China, you know.” Oh JESUS! Did I just say that? Did I literally just say that? Why did I say that? She’ll think I’m a bragging weirdo.

My cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Do I dare look at her?

Her expression has changed from curiosity to amusement. Her eyes grow wide as she smiles. She thinks I’m a weirdo for sure.

“That’s so cool!” She exclaims, laughing a little. “I would love to travel around the world some time. What is China like? My uncle has a joke shop, he sells those lantern thingies, he says they are from China. They are a lot of fun, they...”  She stops talking and turns away from me, a customer raises his hand. “One second, ” she says, blushing furiously, and she’s off to serve him.

See what I said about little respect. 

While she’s gone other customers come in, keeping us both too busy to talk. Such a shame, but that’s a job in the real world for you, no time to socialise in the boss’s time.

It is really nice to work with Lily, though. She knows her way around the lunchroom and she is a great help with the coffee machine. The thing seems to do whatever she wants it to. I’m not kidding if she told it to make us a sandwich it probably would.

When the end of the day draws nearer the lunchroom actually goes quieter too. A good thing, because we’re both in serious need of a rest. Lily is putting away hand full of change. She picks up a 50p piece and giggles softly. The way she looks at it is like she’s holding strange currency, instead of normal pennies and pounds. It’s curious.


It’s a big relief when Jack finally turns the door sigh to ‘closed’, but I can’t help but linger at the bar. Both Lily and I have taken off our aprons and Lily is talking to Jack about her cousin’s wedding. He seems to know her family a bit, asking about her aunt and some other relatives. Lily answers his questions with enthusiasm, animatedly flapping her hands around to accentuate her speech. It’s rather mesmerising to watch. I would have thought of a witty metaphor, but I’m kind of busy staring.

I’m trying to keep my eyes at her face, I swear, but they are very stubborn and wander anyway. I can’t blame them, her appearance is quite stunning. A feast for my hungry little eyes, that sounded so much better in my head. Look at her back, curved ever so slightly, and she wearing the perfect jeans for that bottom. What I can’t get my head around is fact that she’s so very small. She can’t be much more than a metre and a half, maybe 1,60 and so fragile about her. Everything about her seems to be tiny, petite.

Suddenly Lily turns around, looking amusedly at me. Did she catch me staring? Oh my god, she did. I’m innocent, she can’t proof anything.

“So, what are you eating tonight?” She asks, playfully twirling a strand of hair around her finger.
That’s a very good question, if I could get my brain to work properly again I might even be able to debate it myself. I’m not feeling the whole cooking thing tonight, not that I ever feel it. I’m very much tempted to spend the rest of my tips on take-out food. So I shrug and tell her that.

Lily shakes her head, “If you like... I made a lasagne yesterday and at the rate I’m eating it I will be eating lasagne till I’m sixty. So...?”

I smile. She knows how to invite someone, it’s practically impossible to say no to such an offer. If she had invited me to eat stale popcorn and soy-sauce I would probably have said yes to.

“Alright.” I guess I’m having lasagne tonight, that’s pretty sweet. Joel can do the groceries, if he can take his eyes off Sophia long enough to read my text.

Lily’s eyes dart around the street when we leave the lunchroom, seemingly confused for a second, but it’s such a brief moment I could just as easily have imagined it. What could be confusing her in the middle of a perfectly normal street.

I pretend not to notice her curious look at the street sign before she points to the left and starts walking. Cars are humming past, the streetlamps are glowing orangey. It’s a nice night, though pretty damn cold. The way to her house is longer than you’d expect someone being willing to walk, Lily pretty much talks the entire time we’re walking. I haven’t got a clue what she’s talking about, maybe still the wedding. She doesn’t seem to mind my lack of response. It’s possible I’ve ‘hmmm-ed’ and ‘yeah-ed’ in the right places, she might also just enjoy the uninterrupted babble. Either way I feel an bit guilty. Maybe next time I will listen to her, once I’ve gotten over her pretty face.

 “Here we are.” Lily says suddenly, stopping in front of an old warehouse-like building. It’s large windows show it’s several stories high. When we enter the wide entrance hall the sound of the closing door comes back at us in tenfold, echoing in the staircase. Lily leads us around a corner to her flat on the ground floor. She informs me of her roommate and best friend, who she shares the flat with, a girl by the name Alice Jones. But this Alice has a boyfriend at the moment and is practically never at home (much like Joel). According to Lily this is only temporary.

“Alice has a different boyfriend every few months. She goes around telling everybody how this is the one, the boy she’s going to marry. Only to get bored with him after a few months, break up, be happily single for a bit and repeat the process. Somehow that still hasn’t bored her senseless.” She gives a small smile and opens the door.

Her front door opens straight into the living room, which also functions as the kitchen, the two are only divided by a kitchen counter. A small round table is happily sitting in the middle of the small, but overfull, kitchen area. One of the two doors on the wall opposite is ajar. It supposedly leads to one of two bedrooms. The light yellow wall give the room happy sort of feeling. A big, poufy looking, red couch in the corner invites you in.  

I feel a bit awkward as I step over the threshold. I’m not the kind of person that gets invited into girls’ houses very often, and I’ve known Lily for less than a day now. How did I end up being invited for dinner? And how am I supposed to behave? I can’t handle this. Yes I can, come on Neil, be cool.

I’ll just sit down on one of these chairs, have a look around. Act normal, no harm in sitting and looking, right?

It must be said it’s a miracle on can sit in this kitchen, every centimetre of the kitchen counter is littered with stuff. There are little bottles, magazines, some metal bowl of sorts and just loads and loads really random stuff piled up. This place sure needs a good clean-up. Not that I’m one to judge, if you would randomly walk into my flat you wouldn’t find it in much better conditions. I’ve neglected the washing up for the past week and the trashcan does look like it’s about to burst. So in comparison this kitchen is perfectly clean and tidy. I suppose that’s to be expected from a house where two girls live.

It’s a bit like Amy’s room, with the framed flowers on the wall. Amy would love it here, though she would get a heart attack form that kitchen counter, neat freak that she is.

Lily doesn’t take notice of my awkward stature as she pulls the lasagne form the fridge, takes out some plates and slabs the squares on them. Firing questions at me with as much firepower as a battle tank.

“I’m halfway through my first year of medical training,” I answer on of her many question. Lily nods, she’s still working on the lasagne with her back to me. Suddenly the smell of tomato sauce and cheese fills the kitchen. She turns and puts two squares of hot lasagne on the kitchen table. I don’t know how she heated them that fast, but I don’t really care, it’s probably a trick only women are allowed to know about. It smells amazing, though!

“That’s so nice, you want to be a… a doctor then?” she asks, I nod. “Cool, I’ve got a cousin who is a doctor. She’s one of the best, they say. I’m only an intern, I’m working for the prophet at the moment. I want to be a reporter.”  If she can write as well as she can talk she won’t have a problem there.

“Do you have a nice family?” I ask her conversationally over my lasagne. Lily gives me a smile and nods. The piece of lasagne slips of my fork and down my shirt. That will leave a stain, thanks so much terribly delicious lasagne.

Lily hasn’t noticed my misfortune, which I consider to be a good think. She’s answering my question though, so I better listen.

“… got two older brothers. James and Al. They are the loudest, most obnoxious bunch you’ll ever meet. But I guess they are okay. You won’t imagine the trouble they get into on a daily basis, though. I don’t envy mum, at all!” She laughs loudly.

“That bad, huh?” I ask. They can’t possibly be worse than Owen. Lily nods again then shakes her head.

“Yeah, they’re pretty crazy. Mom’s always said it was a big relief to have me and not another boy. She’s a sports reporter, by the way. My dad’s a hero, he hunts bad people for a living. He says it’s his destiny.” She laughs again, throwing her head back a little. The sparkle of mirth brightens her brown eyes. I don’t get what’s funny, but that okay, I smile anyway.

Then Lily looks at me with a sudden intense expression. Her stare makes me feel just a little bit uncomfortable. Then she smiles as if nothing happened.

“How about you?” she asks “What’s your family like?”

“My family? Oh, they’re is pretty normal, I guess. I’ve got a brother and a sister, they’re twins, both sixteen. Owen and Amy. Amy is rather pretty, I guess, got a lot of boys following her around, according to Owen. He tried to ward them off, but he’s not very successful.”

“Please tell him not to do that. You don’t know half how annoying that is.” There is an irritated edge in her voice but her eyes sparkle mischievously. Protective brothers, Lily? I can’t help but smirk, that’s so typical.

“Yeah? I like the thought of her being protected from boys with the wrong intentions. Anyway, my parents are both marine biologists. They live by the sea, they don’t make a lot of money, that’s why I have to work two job to pay for my study, but my dad says that it’s character building, so I’m not complaining.”

“I guess it is character building.” She says, she’s got her brows knitted together. “We’ve never had many problems with money. I just wanted to know what it’s like to support myself, you know. I mean, you can’t always live on someone else’s gold.” Her solemn look makes my chuckle. I guess that’s also true. “I’ve always been curious how… you people live. That’s why I took the job at the Beanstalk. It’s not that bad, though.”

That sounded kind of snobbish, what does she think she is, royalty?

Apart from the occasional strange comment it rather surprising how easy it is to talk to Lily. Didn’t expect a young doctor to be socially awkward, well that’s me. But Lily is cool, she starts rambling from time to time, but she’s genuinely interested when she asks questions. I’ve discovered she likes laughing a lot. To my surprise she thinks I’m really funny. Well I guess I can provide her with some laughing matter, her laugh is really adorable!

That’s how you start a story, a meet-cute, a pretty girl, a promise of future meeting between guy and girl. I could always go work in the film industry, but you know, I like the thought of saving lives.



A/N: I do not own anything that you recognize. Any mentions on Doctor Who or other tv-shows are without further intentions and do belong to their respective owners (which are not me, sadly). 
I've been busy editing the entire story (again). The changes are small but I think the make the story better. It's probaby not the final form, but still... Leave me a review to tell me what you think. Thank you! 




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