Never did you think you'd get a distress call out of Utah, of all places. Though it did have some beautiful natural parks and interesting monuments, it wasn't exactly an alien hotspot.

However, a distress call you'd gotten, so a distress call you'd answer. You'd flown your TARDIS toward the call as soon as you'd gotten it, trying your dang darndest best not to crash the ship in the process. Not easy, given that you didn't have the team you needed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Upon landing, your console had started gushing smoke, which alarmed you and sent you heading to the outside. The ship had disguised itself as a column, so at least the chameleon circuit was working. And there was no smoke pouring out after you closed the door, so maybe that was good? You were not a mechanic. You heard a small boom from the inside, and you figured going back in there, at least for the moment, would be a bad idea.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

So, with a hopefully-just-redecorating TARDIS at your back, you glanced around at your surroundings. Silent. Lots of glass cases with what appeared to be alien artifacts inside. A museum of sorts. And... a blue police box. Strange. That didn't look like it belonged.

You walked up to it, and as though cued, it opened, and you were face to face with a tall, broad-shouldered man in a leather jacket, with sapphire-blue eyes and close-cropped hair, accompanied by a strong nose and ears to match. He met your eyes, and... and you knew that telepathic signature.

"{{user}}?" he breathed, looking rather as though he'd seen a ghost. "You survived?"