AN: Apologies in advance for the writing style of this one, as you can probably tell it was originally done as a role play between me and Lissy (). I did attempt to fix it into a fanfic but I got lazy as you can tell, what with being so busy doing the third part of We all fall down and balancing University work too. But apart from that... Enjoy~

/~~/

The year was 1728, in the height of French aristocracy.

It was winter, and the winters in Paris were terribly cold. Those who could afford so had closed up their windows and stocked up their fires, preparing for another frosty night in the bustling centre of Europe. Those who could not were curling around fires on the riverside and down small windless alleyways, praying the cold did not catch them for another night.

The Bonnefoy household had closed up for the night, servants busying themselves with adjusting the house for the cold night, being sure to avoid the master's business. Lights went out one by one, leaving rooms dimly lit by warm, flickering fireplaces, their only source of heat.

Francis had spent the evening the way he always did, after a lavish evening meal with his father and tutor he was brought to his musical homeschooling, then to Latin and finally fine art. By the end of the evening and after supper he was thoroughly exhausted, changing to his sleeping gown and brushing out his mid-length golden hair before the fireplace, staring into the golden licks of light as they reached for the grand engraved arch.

Francis blinked, for a second he was certain he saw someone in that fireplace, he was sure of it. Setting down the brush on the cold marble floor he shifted closer to the fireplace, squinting and peering in, making sure not to get too close. "B-Bonjour?" He called out.

/~~/

Far across time and space a vessel drifted lonely in the vast expanse of the endless night, its dull call for help only heard by single blue phone box and the good Samaritans aboard it as they drifted through the rifts of time.

Hushing the two humans he had along with him, Arthur led them about the ship they had landed on. Rustic, old fashioned... the smell of burning, barbeque... cooking. The two following him chattered amongst themselves, but he was too curious about why they had landed here to pay attention.

After walking around, the British 'man' found himself in a room with a French renaissance fireplace attached to the wall. Genuine, also. It didn't seem to have any flames until he noticed that the flames were in the back. Walking over, he sank to his knees in order to look through it. How strange... the flames belonged to something else, not /this/ fireplace.

"B-Bonjour?"

Ah, French. Arthur was always so glad that the Tardis could translate for him. Out of all the languages, Alien and earthbound, French was the hardest for him to master. "Ah, hello." He noticed the small blonde boy in the fireplace and nodded too him, crawling in a little more.

"Hello there, what's your name? Now... Now, don't be scared. I'm the fireplace inspector and I'm making sure that your fire is doing its job correctly. "Looking into the room the boy stood in, he realised he was right.18th or 19th Century France, he couldn't quite remember.

"I apologise if I woke you, boy."

"That's quite alright, monsieur. I wasn't sleeping" He tilted his head, watching as the man beyond the flames came forward making himself clearer. He spoke broken French to him, with a strong British accent; he chuckled a little at this to himself. "Can I help you?"

Thinking for a second, he nodded. "Yes actually, has anything been bothering you lately? Any problem with the fire? If so, I will have it fixed immediately. Also, what's your name? So that I can check you off my list of fireplaces to investigate." Nodding again, he smiled up.

Arthur didn't particularly like the French, but he didn't despise them. This little boy seemed cute, not many French people that Arthur had encountered actually had blonde hair. It was rather fetching on the lad.

"No, Monsieur." He smiled, laughing a little at the man. He was so strange, this stranger in his fireplace, checking the fire for any faults, he'd never heard of a man like that before. He shifted a little again, hearing the voices of the evenings affairs bubble out outside his room, meaning his manservant would soon be there to check on him. "It's Francis, Monsieur."

"Alright, I have a Francis here. So I'll tick you off and be back to check on you later. Now go to bed, try your best to sleep. After all, we wouldn't want you to be exhausted tomorrow, now would we? Goodnight. "With that, Arthur pulled his head from the fireplace and fumbled around about it. If there was another time-zone behind this fireplace, then surely he could get to it? Fumbling more, he found a lever and looked to his assistants.

Francis laughed lightly again as the man ticked his name off the list and departed, how strange he was. He heard feet heading towards his room and quickly placed the brush on the dressing table, hurrying towards his bed and tucking himself in. Behind closed eyes he wondered about what strange things the man would tell him next time he was behind the fireplace...

"Alright you two, stay here and don't wander off. I should be back soon." Pulling hit hard, his theory was correct and he was soon swung into the room of the little boy.

/~~/

...Francis slept peacefully in the moonlit room, the fire had died out hours ago as the manor lay silent, the evening's frivolities died out hours ago and dawn seemed to be arriving slowly. There wasn't a sound at all as the fireplace swung round, stirring the French boy from his quiet slumber to stare at the fireplace man as he inspected the mantlepiece. He dared not disturb him.

/~~/

Stepping about the room quietly, Arthur noticed the broken clock. "Hmm, so that's the reason I'm here." Sighing softly, he rand a finger over the delicate shelf of the fireplace. "Not one speck of dust... tell me, Francis, do you have servants? Are you royalty? This is a very fine room you have."

Nothing got past Arthur. Little boys pretending to sleep certainly didn't. "It's alright, don't get up."

/~~/

"Fireplace man..." The boy mumbled, half scared, half fascinated by the man stood in his bedroom as he sat up, letting the cotton and silk sheets slide away from him. He laughed at what the man suggested, "No, no... I'm the son of a financer... Mother wants me to grow up and be an actor and musician so that I can become part of the court of Versailles... father he... he's not so impressed... Isn't it customary for one's house to be spotless, Monsieur?"

/~~/

"Yes, yes... of course yes. I apologise, I'm rather forgetful." How adorable, an actor. "Have you had any trouble since I was last here?" How loud did that clock have to be, exactly? The ticking was driving him insa-... Hm. The clock was broken, so something had to be there. "Francis, are there any other clocks in this room other than the broken one on the mantlepiece?"

If the answer was no, he would no doubt swoop in and protect the young boy. Who knew what part he played in history? And who would allow a child to be in danger?

/~~/

"Not at all, Monsieur- Eh? The clock?" He blinked, what was this strange man on about, he could hear the steady ticking and thought nothing of it. He was so bizarre, and so... strange up in person. Almost silly looking. "Non, there are no other clocks in here... why do you ask?"

/~~/

"The clock is broken, but I hear ticking. Francis... stay in the direct middle of the bed, can you do that?" He stepped slowly and careful towards the little boy's bed, making sure he was in a safe position.

Slowly bending down, he looked beneath the bed then jumped back up again. "Be very... very quiet. Don't make a sound."

/~~/

Of course! How could he have not noticed before, a clock could not tick if it were broken! And yet, he'd accepted it as if it were normal. He froze on the spot at what the Fireplace man suggested, watching him carefully. T-th-th-there was something... someone... under his bed? He couldn't do anything other than look at the stranger with fear.

/~~/

Leaning forward, he gently cupped the boys face and smiled. "I'm the fireplace man. The clock was on the mantlepiece of the fireplace, therefore I can deal with this."

Bending down again, he clicked his screwdriver on and buzzed it around until the figure had scrambled to its feet behind the boy. "Francis..." He began, as he stood up and faced the being.

"Do not look behind you."

/~~/

The boy flinched, blinking wildly as his heart rate picked up when the stranger touched him. He /touched him/, this surely couldn't be a dream. Watching him as he crawled down like a servant below him to peer under the bed, causing some sort of unheard noise before snapping back up, and causing Francis to jump in shock.

Do not look behind you.

What was behind him? He remained still, watching the stranger that he put his trust in, fighting every urge to look behind him.

/~~/

"What are you doing here?" He called out to the masked face of the ticking man.

"What purpose have you got for being under a small boy's bed?" Why did this make him so angry? It was only a little boy... yes he wanted to protect him, but he rarely got angry.

The mechanical voice called back to him. "We do not have the parts. They are not ready yet."

"Parts! What parts could you possibly need so much that you scared a little boy, hide in his room, break his clock and then take its place!"

/~~/

Parts? The boy felt himself go even more rigid, no longer able to stop himself as he turned to look at the thing behind him. Eye's widening at the masked ticking man, his regal wear and powdered wig seemed so very out of place in a financer's home. "What d-do you mean?" He asked, trying his uttermost best not to sound afraid.

/~~/

"We do not have the parts, he is not mature enough. "

"So you have to answer him but not me?" Stepping around the bed and facing the creature, he glared as he got into it's face. "If you're going to harm this boy, I'm going to stop you." Then all too quickly he was threatened, a type of weapon retracting from the monster's hand. "Ah , I see... I don't take kindly to threats."

/~~/

Francis let out a gasp at the weapon, "S-Stop!" He commanded, heart practically running away from him at this rate as he panicked for his fireplace man, he didn't like this, he didn't like this at all.

He watched as the masked man seemed to dissolve into the air before him.

/~~/

Looking back to the boy, Arthur moved to the bed and sat down before running a hand through his hair. "Thank you, that was very kind.. " The boy must care for him, obviously.

"You're a good boy. Remember, that they must listen to you."

/~~/

Francis nodded slightly, still rather shaken by what just happened as he watched the stranger. His hand's tightened on the bed sheets as he pulled them slightly closer to himself, a million questions flying through his head, all combining into one, "W-Who are you?"

/~~/

"The doctor.. call me, Arthur." Patting his hair, Arthur gently tucked him into bed. He was too sweet to have this happening to him, Arthur didn't like it. But then, who would? He would be there for the boy whenever these things were there. He'd find a way. "I'll be here to protect you, alright?"

/~~/

Francis nodded, watching his fireplace man, his nightmare man, his guardian angel, tuck him into bed and speak those calming words to him. Feeling the warmth of the bed drag him closer to sleep, but not wanting to close his eyes and miss the Doctor again for another couple of months.

/~~/

"Go to sleep, I don't know when.. but I promise I will return to you." Pressing his lips to the small boy's temple, Arthur gently cupped his cheek again. Precious.. so precious. Waiting for the boy to drift to sleep before he left; Arthur continued to stroke the boy's face with his thumb and speak in gentle, hushed tones.

/~~/

Francis smiled, blinking slowly as he fought to keep his eyelids open, which slowly betrayed him and slid shut, carrying him off to easy dreams. His head fell limp to one side, hair falling gently across his peaceful face as his breathing went deep and even.

/~~/

Wishing he didn't need to go, Arthur ran his hands through his hair and kissed the boy again. "Sleep well, Francis." Standing up, he walked back to the fireplace and then stared back. He would most certainly be back. Clicking and pulling the lever again, he was thrown back into the usual world.

"He's so.. What? The one thing, I tell them is NOT to wander off!"