John Smith sat in his quiet, lonely office, drawing what he could remember of his strange and exciting dreams. Finishing off one of the heads of the terrifying metal men, the Evening Bell running through the school telling all students to get into their cold beds. John looked out of the window, the glowing stars glittering in front of the pitch black background. He gave a small smile as he looked down at his drawings. He was quite fond of the stars. He knew the names of many and often went stargazing just over the field. His fellow professors never truly understood his unusual interest, but he paid them no mind.

He'd been working at Farringham School for Boys for a month now, finding he enjoyed the role as history professor and found happiness in sharing his knowledge with his students. Although he'd been slightly homesick for the first week or so after he'd arrived, his Housemaid, a delightful young woman named Martha who had served him and his family since he could remember, quickly made him feel at ease again. It was nice having someone around to help.

There was a shy knock at the door, a middle aged woman walking into the room with a tray in her arms. He recognised the woman nearly immediately… Jenny? She was often seen with Martha whether it was during daytime chores or afternoon lunch. It didn't take a mastermind to see they were close friends. "Evenin', Mister Smith," she greeted tiredly.

John smiled at her as she dropped the tray down on his desk, which carried a teapot and a cup. "Where's Martha?" he asked as Jenny took a teaspoon from her apron, no room for it on the tray.

"She went out not too long ago, Sir," Jenny replied, placing the spoon on his desk. "Requested by the Headmaster that she go to the near farm next town over to make sure they had flour in for the school by the end of the week. She'll be back within the next half hour, Sir."

John frowned as he poured the tea into his small mug. "It would have been considerate for the Headmaster to ask my permission before using my Housemaid," he retorted, nearly coldly. It wasn't polite for the Headmaster to be using his property as he was. "Is he still awake?"

"Oh, I wouldn't advise paying him a visit, Sir," Jenny said with a face. "He's been in a foul mood the past few hours. Caught one of the students stealing bottles from the Wine Cellar. Been giving all the staff a difficult time since." With a curtsy, Jenny nodded. "G'night, Mister Smith," she said in farewell as she walked from the room.

John nodded, taking a small sip of his toasty tea. He knew better than to harass his superiors when they were in no mood. It was cheek anyway, asking the Headmaster not to use his Maid when he was the one practically placing the food on the table for her and keeping a roof over her head. He shook his head to himself. He had no right.

Placing the cup down, he heard a feminine voice scream from outside, "Mister Smith!"

'Martha!' he though as he rushed to the window, watching as she struggled toward the school, dragging a figure as she went. John grabbed his coat and hurried to the door, skipping steps as he went down the stairs. He walked through the narrow door; following two of his co-workers as he stepped out into the cold air, hastily walking to his young Maid and the figure she was dragging.

"I just found her," Martha explained vaguely as she set the woman down of the dry grass. "You know the sheds down there?" she pointed behind her to three small huts. "Found her there, jus' lying on the ground. Do you want me to go get Nurse Redfern? She's not waking up, and she's bleeding a lot and-"

"Martha!" John cut her off. "Calm down, please. First, I want you to go get Miss Redfern. Then, I want you to make yourself more presentable, okay?" he added, nodding to her red drenched hands. Giving a weak nod, she hurried to the school, Jenny and few others of the staff following her as they littered her with questions.

John and one of the other school professors looked down at the young, red-headed woman on the ground. Most of her face was covered in a claret shade, making it difficult to she her face, but the deep, long gash on the side of her cheek, which was spread down to half her neck, was very noticeable, making John wonder if the woman really had red hair or not. "Interesting clothes she's wearing," said one of the male Professors, Mister Walsh. "I must say, I've never seen a woman wear trousers before."

John nodded in agreement. Trousers were not appropriate women wear, but then again, that wasn't the first thing that came to his mind. A strange woman was dragged here by his Housemaid, covered in blood and unconscious, and typically, the first thing Mister Walsh though of was her clothing. Not her safety, whether she was alive or not, or not even where she came from, which were the exact questions that twittered around in John's mind.

A few minutes later, the windows were showing the figures of many young men in their nightwear as Nurse Redfern walked onto the scene, growing pale quickly at the sight before her. "Get her to my quarters," she ordered quickly, two of the staff members picking the limp woman up cautiously, scared of getting the woman's red colour on their clothes. As she was dragged off, John quickly noticed a large black sack onto the woman's back, which was muddy and wet. Wherever this woman had been, it mustn't have been a pleasant errand.

Mister Smith was told he would no longer help and that he'd best return to his bedroom. Not that he'd be able to sleep. Instead, he ushered the young students back to their rooms, telling them their curiosity would have to wait, like his, he added to himself.

He saw Martha not too long after, in a set of new staff clothes and clean hands. "Are you okay?" he asked as soon as he saw her.

"I'm fine, Mister Smith," she assured. "Just a lil' bit shaken, is all." She looked around his office and began to gather the now empty teapot and cup, placing them back on the tray. "And before you ask, Sir, no. I don't have any idea how she is or where she came from. I just found her. Nurse Redfurn said she's likely to be up and about by tomorrow. G'night, Mister Smith," she said in finality. Nodding his goodnight, he slipped out of his coat, which he clumsily threw on the armchair. Quietly, he dressed into his nightwear, crawling under the covers when the cold air hit what skin it could.

A.N: Thought I'd try something new and get away from my other story for the time being. I've been meaning to do this for a while, but never got round to doing it. This Fanfic is basically going to be about situations where Rose might have returned to the Doctor in Season 3 and 4. I don't know how often I'll be updating this, but my head it buzzing with idea's at the moment. Any idea's and requests will be taken. Also, this Fic has nothing to do with my 'Cub' series, this is completely different with no AU characters. Hope you enjoyed :)