This muse has been permanently retired effective 13th August 2007. The journal remains open for archival purposes at the request of someone very near and dear to the muse's writer, and the writer thanks each and every one of this journal's readers for their support, their kindness, and their encouragement whilst this journal was active.

Catherine stood at the waterfront, gazing out over the Bay. She could just make out small white peaks in the water as the wind stirred it. The Golden Gate Bridge rose majestically off to the west. She hugged her arms around her middle, shivering a bit in the nighttime chill. It didn't help that her clothes were damp from walking in the rain. She hadn't dared return to her car, not even for her umbrella, for fear that those men she and the Doctor had dodged in the restaurant would be able to trace her.

The chill didn't help her sense of melancholy. She sighed, and rubbed one of her eyes with the heel of her hand as she dug her mobile out of her jeans pocket. She scrolled through her contact list, found the TARDIS--and double-checked that she was dialling the correct one--and then raised the phone to her ear.

"Hello, Doctor," she said warmly when he answered. "I'm ready to be picked up, but there's been a slight change of location. I'm at Fort Mason."

Catherine stepped out of the Ninth Doctor's TARDIS and set off down the street into the cold, gray, rainy Tuesday afternoon. Her hair was tucked under a knit cap, the ends poking out, and she hoisted a large umbrella over one shoulder to keep dry.

She had agreed to meet the Doctor at a shop near the medical centre. It was so unlike her to be so impulsive, and yet she felt compelled to do it. Because really, of all the people to run into...

She shook her head slightly, clearing it, banishing the thought as she paused at the shop's front steps to shake her umbrella out and close it. She stepped inside and carefully set the umbrella in a rack placed conveniently just inside the door, and began surveying the interior, looking for the man she was meeting. She hadn't asked the usual daft first-meeting questions such as "How tall are you?" or "What will you be wearing?"

Catherine had a feeling she'd just know when the Doctor presented himself.