“The crazy things that bloke gets up to,” he murmured as the credits began to roll on the third episode of the latest series. “Quite unbelievable at times.”
I laughed. “That's why it's called science fiction. It sure the heck isn't science fact.”
Suddenly those big brown eyes of his bore into mine. “You enjoy studying the sciences, don't you?”
I swallowed hard. How did he know? I nodded automatically. “Yeah, sure I do. I didn't get a chance to study any science in depth in college, but I've always had a layperson's fascination with all things astronomical.”
“Yes, I noticed your Amateur Astronomer certificate on the wall when we came in. It hangs beside the bookshelf containing an astrolabe, a year's worth of Sky and Telescope, and the hardback edition of Stephen Hawking's' A Complete History of Time.”
Whoa. This John Smith was much more observant that I had credited him. Here I thought for the last three hours he'd been simply enjoying my TiVoed episodes of Doctor Who. Instead, he'd been scoping out my apartment.
“You know what an astrolabe is?” I wondered aloud. Most of my friends had mistaken it for an unsually shaped, miniature telescope.
He frowned, puzzled. “Of course I know what an astrolabe is.”
A chill raced down my spine. Perhaps bringing this handsome stranger home hadn't been such a good idea after all…
“Is your fascination with the heavens why you've become such a fanatic over a television program about a time traveler?” he asked.
I blinked, but still I found myself glued to the spot. “Partly. Mostly it's pure escapism for me. I have to have something in life that will rescue me from this dreary existence occasionally. Doctor Who is a godsend.”
“Even when it went off the air for a decade?”
“Even then. There were the books, the conventions, the awful TV movie and the fans. The fans are the best. I've met a lot of lovely Doctor Who fans over the years. They've cheered me up enormously when I was down and out between jobs and husbands. When Southwestern Bell transferred me here from Dallas I didn't know a soul, but the local fans soon became my family. I'm not alone in the universe as long as I know there are others out there who like the same thing I do.”
“Hmm.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. He seemed to be seriously contemplating my heartfelt disclosure. “Then why do you frequent dodgy establishments such as the place I found you in earlier today?”
I blushed and averted my gaze. It was time to spill the beans, to let him in on the underlying motivation for bringing him back to my place. I suddenly felt ashamed of my actions. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“Cici? Is there something you'd like to tell me?”
His voice sounded soft, yet demanding. He placed a hand under my chin and tilted my face until his penetrating eyes meet mine once more. My heart began to race and my breathing became ragged. His prying eyes continued to probe the depths of my soul. Every fiber of my being burned with a desire to make a clean start of our relationship.
“Okay, you caught me,” I confessed with a sigh. “We need you to star in our fan film. You're a dead ringer for the Doctor. My plan involved kidnapping and seducing you, forcing you to stay in town for a while so we could film our friend Sammy's screenplay. He's terminally ill. We want him to see his movie idea made before he passes on. That's all. I promise.
*
