The snow fell as clumps around me as I stood, still and unshivering in the icy breeze, tickling my closed eyes and making my lips almost smile contentedly. I flexed my fingers in their mittens, stuffed into my pockets, and sighed. The cool air tightened my chest as I inhaled.

"Mum!"

The small voice wouldn't have interrupted me, had it not been a scream. I snapped open my eyes and spun on the spot, searching for the child. Close by, a little figure was pursuing me, his tiny padded arms restricted by his thick green coat. "Help!"

"What is it, sweety?" I asked him calmly, crouching down to his level and staring up into his panicked hazel eyes. Tears were brimming, but refused to fall, impossibly holding back. "M-my m-mom h-has...sh-she was right-t th-ere!" he exclaimed through hiccups, pointing hurriedly to the spot behind him. His hands didn't seem to know what to do, whether to flail or ring together.

I swallowed the piteous feeling and smiled assuringly. "Well, why don't we find her together? I'm sure she can't be too far. I'm Mia, by the way."

The boy hesitated, and then nodded enthusiastically. "O-okay...Simon" he said, a little more confidently. His hand shot out, and flexed his fingers to signal. I took his hand, and laughed a little. "We're matching," I pointed out, and he giggled at our red mittened hands.

We found ourselves outside a nearby woods, and for the first time in that day, I felt weary. "I don't think she'll be in there, Si. Lets try somewhere else, huh?"

The boy didn't answer, and I glanced down at him in question. Eyes focused ahead, he was still for a few countless seconds. Then, he tugged gently on my hand. "No, this way," he said, verging on demanding. Stubborn child, I nervously laughed to myself. I thought I would humour him by following his trail. After all, it was possible. I certainly hadn't caught sight or sound of a panicked mother so far.

Within minutes, we came to a clearing in the trees, and found a frozen over pond. A small wooden bridge stood next to it, overlooking, covered in icicles. The scene looked like it belonged on a Christmas card. But it also looked...too quiet. It was. Not a bird, or even an insect making a sound.

"I don't think she's here, Simon," I whispered, scared of breaking the seemingly unshatterable silence. "Come on, we should go ba-"

"No!" He shouted suddenly, tugging on my arm as I turned to lead the way out. A pain shot through my shoulder, and I winced in anger. "We're going to find her! She's around here somewhere," his desperate voice reasoned, becoming shrill with panic. I still felt sick from the pain. I kept my eyes on the kid, hoping he didn't run off. Then I felt pressure on my fingers, and his eyes grew wide.

"There!" he exclaimed, and tugged his hand away, laughing as he ran toward the bridge. I followed with my eyes, and found he was heading for the bridge. A tall, white figure stood there, a ghostly pale fale with black clothing. She held her hand out for the boy, but made no other gesture to embrace him. She simply stood, staring out over the pond. "Mom! This lady helped me find you!" he explained excitedly, as though he expected her to thank me. She simply stared as she did, and I could see she was unblinking, even at this distance; her eyes were huge.

"Nice girl," I heard close by, right next to my ear, in fact. Only a whisper. I flicked my head to the side, but nothing was there. I snapped my eyes back, and the bridge was empty.

I was alone in the resumed unshatterable silence.

Only a strange noise, a low, pulsing, mechanical sound close by, one that didn't seem to fit.

I waited for a moment, only a moment, for what I didn't quite know. After that moment, I turned to leave.

…

"Good old Lon-"

The tall man swung the blue doors open with a sense of happy returns, expecting the usual dingy car park, the sound of traffic and perhaps a large grey building gracing his brown eyes. But no, he had to land in a forest.

He was miserable and disappointed and grimaced for only a second, until he realised that the totally white picture was covered in snow.

"Ha! Snow!" he shouted in victory, scooped some up in his hand and threw it at a distant tree. "Snow that isn't ash! Snow at Christmas, what ever next!" He promptly removed his sunglasses and returned into the TARDIS, swapping them for a multicoloured scarf; for the sake of blending in, of course. On his first enthusiastic step into the blanketed ground, ice cold liquid seeped into his red converses, and he would have blessed the day if it wasn't tainted by a familiar itching in his brain.

Something is afoot here, he mused mentally, changing his cheery disposition for the serious, business-like man he was meant to be. With each tread and crunch of the white stuff beneath his feet, his inner child winced.

…

The walk home was tainted by thoughts on what had happened only a few minutes ago, from Simon's reaction to his apparent mother on the bridge, staring like a ghoul at nothing in particular. Her face flickered across my eyes for only a second, and it sent a chill down my spine.

Hell, she couldn't help the way she looked. Maybe she was in shock...

Even in reassuring myself, I sounded idiotic. But when I started wondering, I sounded even more idiotic. I should be happy the kid found his mum. But so would the mum...and she showed...nothing...

"Mia, stop it!" I cursed, and mentally slapped myself for talking out loud...to myself.

"Excuse me!" A male voice called, followed by heavy footsteps. I turned and faced the direction of the snow, blowing my red hair from my face beneath my blue beanie. This time, it was a tall figure, very tall and slim, running in my direction. He was fast, the tails of his long brown trench coat bellowing behind, but his long legs carried him further than what I could do in 5 strides. He slowed to a walk, and soon he was only a few feet away.

"Bit of a strange question, actually," he chuckled, ruffling his messy hair with his unpocketed hand, "Could you inform me where I..er...am...please?"

I had to admit, I was a little stricken by his smile to register the strangeness of his question, but it eventually caught up.

"Where you...are?"

He laughed again, embarrassed, but his brown eyes were sincere. "I would've asked someone else...but there seems to be no one around. Is it always as quiet as this? I would have expected families to turn out in the masses..." he paused his babbling only a moment, and looked back to stare at me. "Was that comment rude? I wasn't judging your abilities on placing geographical locations in which you're currently...present. Especially from a man who-"

"Who doesn't know where he is," I finished for him, finding him slightly adorable and amusing. He ruffled his hair awkwardly again, and I thanked the cool wind for making my cheeks red already. "In answer to your question, you're in Scotland."

He paused, and searched round. A smile grew on his face, contagious. I found myself smiling at nothing, just because. "Scotland, yes I recognise this place! Bit different now mind you, although I last time I was here is was over 1 hun..." His voice trailed off at the end, and I was sure he'd forgotten my presence. Suddenly he turned his face to me again, his face scrunched in confusion. "But surely," he began, as though restarting an unfinished conversation, "where are the families? The kids on sledges? This is weird," he commented, as though it truly distressed him.

"I don't know," I replied, seriously, catching his attention. "I haven't seen any kids around here for a few days now...since the snow came, I've seen one child. I feel that its wasted."

I felt childish for my comment, until I noticed his expression, and how interested it seemed in my words. His eyes became distant once i'd finished, as though raking something over.

"Hmm...strange indeed." He pulled his hand out of his pocket and ruffled his hair once more, and slid it down his face thoughtfully, scratching his chin with a similar expression. "Anyway, thanks for the...you know..."

"Placing yourself," I added, and laughed. He laughed, too. "Yeah, always an awkward question to ask. What's your name?"

Should I? Should I give a perfect stranger my name? Would the usual Mia Morton give a strange man her name, no matter how interesting or unusually charming he was? My mind drifted back, almost automatic, like a niggling reminder, of the events of a few minutes ago, watching a boy and a creepy woman vanish into thin air. Too much strangeness now, and this man's presence made the strangeness feel all the more...believable.

"Mia, Morton. Nice to meet you."

He returned my smile with a nonchalant grin. "John Smith, likewise. Thanks for your help!" he shouted the second part, having begun running in the direction he'd come from.