A Mysterious man, and a Green Rock

We had been running for what felt like an hour. Even in a light breezy toga I was sweating like polar bear in Cuba. The Doctor had barely broken a sweat, while my lungs were fighting for breath. He must do a lot of running, which lead me to wonder if he always got into this sort of trouble. The answer to that was probably no, he got into far worse trouble than just this.

It was not fun being dragged along. It felt like the first time I ever water skied, with the boat tugging me along, and I tried to keep my balance and not fall over. Needless to say I didn't last long before my epic (and inevitable) wipe out. But this time there was no water to cushion me. Only a busy Roman street filled with vendors selling anything from fruit, to idols, homeless and poor begging for some extra coins, thieves and small children trying to figure out who would be the easiest to steal from.

When we felt we were far enough away from the coliseum and the angry mob, we slowed our hurried pace to one that I could actually breath steadily at. By asking a couple different vendors, we discovered that master Petriticus lived in a grand estate near the Pantheon. Great. All the way back where we started.

For no particular reason, the Doctor had an astounding knowledge of ancient Roman back streets, and we were there in no time. Obviously he'd been here before but how had he come to this time period and not caught even the slightest hint of something fowl?

We followed a hidden path up behind the Pantheon, to what was more than just a grand estate, it could've passed for Julius Caesar's palace. The place was massive. He must've devoted his life to digging up precious rocks.

We hiked up the hill and then up the many (many) steps to the palace. There were guards (much like the one at the coliseum) waiting by the door. This time we told them we were interested in purchasing some of their master's famous emeralds. They granted us entrance without hesitation.

"So, what business have two weary travellers, such as yourselves have in my humble home?" The master of the house asked, as he walked down a grand marble stair case in the front hall. He was not young, but not old, a fair age, probably late 30's to mid-40's. He sported the clothes of Roman noblemen, the formal wear specifically. Probably on his way to see his slave executed.

"We had heard magnificent things about this, grand palace, of yours. We had hoped to see it, along with this famous Emerald of yours that has been cause of such talk lately," the Doctor said. He had such a flourish with his words, it was no wonder he always got what he wanted. "I am Sparticus of the Roman colony Bluebox. This is my wife Percisa of Bluebox. She's a big fan of jewelry."

"Well I'm afraid you caught me at a rather inconvenient time, Lord and Lady of Bluebox. I am off to see an ex-slave of mine executed. She caused damage to this emerald of which you speak. I have some of the finest Jewelers in Rome appraising it to see if it can be repaired," he claimed, brushing us off.

"Well, when my husband here says I am a big fan of jewelry, he means that I am the daughter of a jeweler and spent many years as his apprentice. I have picked up a lot of skill at it, and am interested to see if I could fix your precious gem. I won't take too long. If you let me look at it, It would only take me, say 5 days to fix it, depending on how deep and long the crack is." I said quickly stumbling over some words. He didn't seem too convinced.

"Yes, of course that's what I meant. I just did not wish to show off my wife. Don't want another man stealing her eh?" The Doctor said with a laugh. Petriticus seemed to also find this funny, and gave a chuckle.

"Lord Sparticus, it would not be her skill that would tempt a man, but her fair beauty," he said coming down the stairs and kissing my hand. I blushed. The Doctor gave him an angry glance. I'm not sure if this was because he was playing the part or he actually didn't want someone to steal me away. "What could it hurt, I shall let you appraise my precious stone. It is the same colour as your eyes, fair lady."

"Now that's how you treat a woman," I whispered to the Doctor, "Not by breaking into her house. Or her mind for that matter."

"Hey, you got into my head too!" He whispered back harshly.

"Yeah, but I did not get half as much information from you, as you got from me!"

"Trust me, you don't want to see the rest."

Oh, but how I did.

The Master of the house took us down a hall and to a small room. The room was dark, but Petriticus lit a torch and dropped it ever so dramatically into a trough filled with oil that ran along all four walls of the room. He was more dramatic than the Doctor, and just as handsome. Shit did I just say that? I don't fancy the Doctor, I just, well he's attractive and that is an honest opinion. Nay, not opinion, fact. Oh forget I said anything.

The stone stood on a pillar in the middle of the room. It reflected the light of the fire, like a mirror, but it had a more rough-looking and dull exterior. It looked nothing like an emerald really, it had the colour of green quartz. It had a smooth surface but didn't sparkle, only reflected the light. It's hard to describe, but I knew it was not from this earth. Or at least, not originally.

"I am particularly proud of this one," Petriticus beamed as the Doctor and I stepped closer to the rock, "Dug it out myself. All my shovels had broken, so I was using my hands to claw at the grimy stone and dirt that was around it. Took me five long hard months. My hands still haven't fully recovered. Every time I wash them, a little bit more dirt comes off-"

"My Lord, I'd love to hear this trying tale of yours," I said, interrupting his monologue, "but the Doc- I mean Sparticus, and I prefer to work in peace and quiet. Would you also be so kind as to leave us with the stone for a while? Just so we can get a better, reading if you will, of it's condition." I put as much flirt in this line as possible, batting my eyes and leaning my hip to one side. It felt awkward but it must have worked since he left.

I touched the stone with my index finger, and it felt warm underneath the slight pressure. The Doctor was circling it, like a shark before a frenzy. I found the crack, short but it ran from the top to no more than one eighth of the stone. At a closer glance, I noticed some even smaller, barely noticeable cracks around the main crack. The pattern the cracks made reminded me of something, but I couldn't put my finger on what.

Suddenly, the Doctor swooped in on his prey. He gently felt the sides of the stone, being careful not to touch the crack. And, for what appeared to be no reason, he licked it. He tasted the surface on his tongue making some clucking noises, then shivered. Obviously it tasted unpleasant, it was a rock.

"So, all-knowing Time Lord, how does today's dish taste?" I asked, every syllable coated with sass. He stood there staring off into nothing, muttering to himself, and occasionally clucking at the taste again.

"Ash. Ash and Dirt. Today's dish is ash and dirt. That's what I've found, what have you discovered?" He asked challenging me.

"Well, first appearance: Not Emerald, but we ruled that out already. Second appearance: Not of this world, again already determined. But we never determined why really. Other than being able to communicate between the dead and the living, we can now see that the light from the fire reflects off of it, but the surface is not anywhere near shiny enough for that to actually happen. When I touched it, it got warmer beneath my finger, it produces its own heat which means it could be alive. The crack, at first glance seems like a normal dropped it kind of crack but if you look closely, and I mean really closely, you can see this strange pattern of tinier cracks, which look exactly like that of cracking an egg. It's an egg and whatever is inside is ready to come out."

"Well do you have a better idea?" I snapped at the Doctor in a harsh whisper, "We need some way of getting this egg out of here, and we already know he fancies me. A little more flirting won't hurt, especially if it can get that egg out of here."

"Well what if it doesn't get the egg out of here?" He replied nervously.

"Oh so you have no confidence in my abilities to flirt, is that it? Or is it something else? Maybe you don't want me flirting with him because-"

"Because what?" He said cutting me off.

"Because you'd be jealous!" That stopped him for a while, but not too long. But I caught something in his eye, and I knew what it was. "But something like this has happened before. They left you or almost left you for someone they met on a trip. And you can't handle something so suddenly being taken away from you again."

He was not crying but he appeared to be remembering the feel of tears in his eyes. All the times he cried over the things he lost, the people he's lost. And I could see there was a lot of them.

No, wait, I could actually see them. All of them. Faces and things were flying by, all a blur, but all distinct. A girl no older than 20 being sucked away into a void, then saved at the last minute, A med student, simply walking away from him, A woman in a white dress, who he barely knew. His granddaughter. And there were face changes too. New faces flew by, all of them men, all of them him. All the people he barely knew but watched die-

And they were gone. Just as fast as they came. I had been inside his mind again, but I didn't know how. Shit. If I hadn't messed things up before they were messed up now. He'd probably just take me back to the TARDIS now, and drop me back in my bathroom. No use apologizing.

"I'm sorry," I said. I was so bad at not apologizing; you'd swear I was Canadian or something.

"How did you do that?" was all he said. But I could see the look in his eyes had changed. It was no more sadness but wonder and curiosity. I had again proven I was a new and interesting puzzle for him to solve. "We weren't even touching, how could you have done that?"

I didn't answer since he seemed to be asking himself that question and not me. "There is something much more to you than even you know, Hazel, my brilliant, clever Hazel." The way he said clever sounded foreign to him, like he'd never used it to describe someone other than himself.

"Um, thank you," was all I said, and I said it as quietly and mouse-like as possible. I was never clever, hardly ever brilliant, mostly just intelligent or smart. But something about how he said it this time, made me actually believe it. I was more than smart. I was clever.

"Anyways, the plan. No, you shan't flirt with him, too risky. If you fail, our cover is blown and he'd know we want the stone-"

"But if it works, we have the stone for as long as we need, and we wouldn't be stealing it like you plan on doing."

"You're not taking my stone," Lord Petriticus boomed as he stood in the door way.