Title: Message in A Bottle
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: gen & pre-slash Doctor/Owen
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Table: 50ficlets
Prompt: 37, Message
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor frowned as he looked down at the psychic paper in his hand, wondering who could have sent him this message. There was no signature -- but whoever had sent it knew how to reach him, so there were only a few people it could be.

Jack was the first possibility that had leapt into his mind, but he didn't think that was it. No, Jack would have signed the message; he would have let the Doctor know just who was calling to him. It wasn't his style to send anonymous notes.

At least whoever it was didn't appear to be in trouble; there was no sense of urgency in the message, no entreaty to come quickly.

No, it was just a short message requesting him to be at a certain place on Earth. No particular time, just "meet me at ...." and the rest of it. Short but sweet -- and completely mysterious. He had no idea who it could be from.

Of course, it had occurred to him that it very well could be a trap set for him by the Master, though he didn't think that was so. Usually, he could pick up on anything like that, especially through the psychic paper. No, this couldn't be a trap.

Who, then? He mentally went over the list of his acquaintances from 21st-century Earth who could possibly be calling to him across the galaxy, and he came up empty. There were people who might like to see him, but none who would call him in this way.

And none who really had the capability of doing that, either. None that he knew of, anyway. But there was obviously someone -- or he wouldn't have this message in his hand telling him to come there and talk to them.

It was strange, and perplexing. But he'd find out when he got there. At least, he hoped he would, and that this person wouldn't keep him waiting.

Was it possible that Jack was playing a joke on him? But that really wasn't Jack's style, either. He wouldn't do something like this as a way of playing because he was bored -- he would save the psychic paper for something important.

This was a bit like getting a message in a bottle, really. He had no idea who it was from -- and it had seemingly washed up on his particular beach. Though of course, he was meant to get it. It hadn't reached him by some accident.

Who could possibly want him to come to them? And with no urgency, no apparent purpose in mind. Just to see him, to talk to him.

Maybe they knew that something was going to happen on Earth, and they wanted to be able to warn him so that he could do something about it? That was a definite possibility, though he hoped that it wasn't true. It was a bit overwhelming to contemplate.

Still, it could be something like that -- especially since the message had said to meet this person, whoever they were, in Cardiff. That was why he'd thought it was Jack -- he couldn't conceive that there would be anyone else there who wanted to see him.

The fact that he'd been called to Cardiff was what had made him think it was Jack -- that he'd possibly been summoned because of something to do with the Rift. But without a sense of urgency, he simply couldn't tell who it was.

Ah well, he'd find out soon enough, wouldn't he? The Doctor tried to relax, tried to let the anticipation die down within him and not pace around the control room.

But that anticipation wouldn't die. Instead, it was mounting, a knot forming in his stomach when he thought of all the possibilities for what this could be. Each mental image was becoming worse; he had to get there quickly to find out what was happening.

Ah, the Tardis had landed. He could feel the knot in his stomach tightening as he headed for the door; he was almost afraid to open it, apprehensive about what he might find outside. For all he knew, it could be another Canary Wharf.

No, that would have definitely come through in the message -- though it hadn't had any sort of urgency about it. He just had the feeling that he needed to get to Cardiff and talk to this person soon -- whoever they might be.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the Tardis, looking around him and wondering who he might find. There didn't seem to be anyone in the immediate vicinity -- though he had landed at the Hub and he'd half-expected to see Jack waiting.

"Hello, Doctor." The voice came from behind him, a low, soft voice, a little husky, definitely sexy. A voice that he wouldn't mind hearing more often.

He swung around, his eyes widening at the sight of the man standing there. Not someone he'd expected to see, but not someone unwelcome, either. Someone he'd found very attractive when they'd met, but who he'd put out of his mind as being impossible to have.

"Owen!"

***