A/N It's good to know that it's not just me who thought that there was potential in this episode.

NOTES: I've told myself and my muse that I will NOT write an entire story in the Doctor's POV. The main reason for this is because I do not believe that I (or anybody) could write him accurately; he's an alien, I'm not. It would come out sounding…like a disgruntled human. So, I don't like this chapter because it wanted to be written 1st person and isn't – it doesn't flow very well…

My inspiration on how to write Arthur came from this picture http/ www.bbc. co.uk/doctorwho/gallery/s204gallery/1024/doctorhorse. jpg (remove the spaces)

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. This is very obvious, because if I did 'The Girl in the Fireplace' would have ended, pretty much, with the Doctor staring ruefully at the smashed mirror/solid wall and the line 'Talk about seven years bad luck, try three thousand…'.

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Through The Ages

2 – Incendia

It's 1979; it's been almost an entire year since the Doctor fixed the timeline, trapping himself in the process.

Of course, the flow of time has altered many things, except of course his appearance. He's almost stopped himself from the feeble hope of a rescue, telling himself that if it was going to happen, it would've happened by now. It has been a year. Reinette and the King of France have aged, and not only in looks – the Seven Years war was taking its toll on any one even remotely connected to the royal household. How things change, and yet they stay the same: wars are still fought one hundred years from now, one thousand years, one billion years from now. It's one of the constants of the universe, he tells himself. No need to jump any time someone mentions a war.

He's not in Versailles anymore, not even in France. The King, Louis, hadn't exactly banished him, but it was a close-run thing. A polite banishment if you will, a 'If you don't show yourself for a while, we might welcome you back for Christmas' sort of thing. It was the jealousy behind it: he couldn't stand the way Reinette looked at the Doctor any time he entered the room. The King couldn't bear it when he walked in on the two of them alone, talking about something that they'd immediately stop because of his entrance.

It had been nothing against the King personally; they both knew he was a good man. It was just that they were normally discussing the sorts of things that they'd seen in both of their minds, during their unplanned double-linking. Things that it was probably best not to spread around.

Even if Louis hadn't asked him to leave, there was no way that the Doctor could have borne to be in the same place for an entire year. So, this brought him to what he was doing now: an extended tour of Europe. He had the next 250-or-so years stuck on the planet; he might as well get to know some of the geography a bit better. Never know when something hostile will be chasing you over it. Or at least, that was what he'd told Reinette.

The truth was that he was always moving, always had been. It was how he'd lived, especially after the Time War…-no, not a good idea to dwell on that. The problem, well, the latest in the long line of problems that his stay was causing; was that if he kept going at this rate, he'd have been over every single inch of the planet and still have just less than 100 years with nothing to do.

Reinette hadn't exactly been happy to see him leaving: her angel wouldn't be around to keep watching over her. He did feel a stab of guilt at the way his mind phrased this but she had better things to do then to be obsessing over him. And he, no offence to her, couldn't stick around. So he'd left, taking Arthur and minimal supplies.

She hadn't let him leave without first trying to press numerous objects on him. For example, the overcoat he was wearing had been a gift from her. His own had been left back in the 51st century, carelessly slung over a supporting beam. She'd also made sure he'd taken plenty of travelling rations, which he hadn't touched but were just behind the saddle, another thing weighing Arthur down. The Doctor supposed that it was a good thing he did have someone along to be baggage handler.

In truth, the horse had decided to come with him rather then the other way around. He'd been about to set off, a small pack slung over his shoulder, when a distinctly annoyed neigh had stopped him in his tracks. He'd then nearly been knocked over by the aggravated beast, until he'd returned to get a saddle and bridle. Reinette had found the entire episode highly amusing, she hadn't stopped laughing until he'd actually ridden out of the gates of the estate.

Of course, it would be quite a bit slower if he hadn't taken Arthur, but he was proving useful. The horse, besides being quite the show jumper, was severely cutting down on the tedious amounts of time between places. And, on top of that, the Doctor couldn't quite tolerate travelling by himself – the thoughts in his head grew too loud and he'd end up miring himself in a swamp of self-recriminations.

The guilt would kill him, if the boredom didn't.

As if sensing his rider's gloomy pre-occupations, Arthur whickered and gave his whole body a sudden shake; designed to make the rider pay attention or fall off. With a sudden curse, the Doctor clamped his legs solidly and shifted his balance to avoid meeting the hard-packed dirt of the track.

"What!" he demanded of the innocently pricked-up ears in front of him. The only reply he received was those ears flicking back at him momentarily. In spite of himself, the Doctor grinned, this horse was getting to understand him better then some of his companions had. He was getting quite accustomed to having him around and he would miss the animal terribly. It would almost be one straw too many when Arthur died, leaving him all alone again.

…Unless… It went against most of the laws of Time, and quite a few of the principles he'd made for himself, but…a horse's physiology wasn't the same as a human's. Well, obviously. But, if one knew what one was doing and one had a suitable tool…he fished the sonic screwdriver out of his suit pocket and grinned again, slightly manically. No time like the present, before his better judgement over-rode his impulsive resolve.

Abruptly reining back to stop Arthur in the middle of the road, the Doctor dismounted and caught the white horse's bridle, a comforting hand placed reassuringly on his neck. This meant that the sonic screwdriver ended up between his teeth. …He had to stop doing that, it was impossible to operate from there. Letting go of the bridle, his fingertips skimmed over the sides of the animal's head, searching. Suddenly he found what he was looking for and turned the sonic screwdriver onto a specific bone structure.

If it was possible, Arthur seemed to understand and merely widened his eyes at the strange device. A few seconds later and the Doctor had finished, sighing explosively as he realised what exactly it was that he'd just done.

He'd created an immortal horse. Well, not exactly, but unless there was an accident Arthur would now live for about 200 years. Enough time to get even more attached. Ok, so maybe that hadn't been such a good idea, but still at least he now had someone to pass the two centuries with. Even if that someone didn't offer much in the way of conversation.

He sighed, what was done was done; it couldn't be un-done without bending some of the rules of time. And for that, he needed the TARDIS. His mind was going round in circles – he kept trying to think of a way to escape from his predicament, but continued running into the metaphorical brick wall that he couldn't escape without assistance.

To try and occupy his mind with something else, the Doctor had a good look around at his surroundings. Currently he was a little off the well-travelled path, somewhere in Sweden. Quite a long way from Versailles really, he hadn't meant to go so far. He'd just… gotten carried away really. Almost run straight through Germany, Poland, Lithuania, Latvia, Russia and Finland. No excitement, no action, although he hadn't really stopped to look for any.

So now…he was almost perishing from the sheer boredom of nothing. Always moving on, that was what he did. The difficulty now, was that he could only move on in space, the ability to jump time had been lost to him.

…He was missing Rose though, and even if he would never admit it to either of them, Mickey too. It had been a year for him, but they weren't even there to miss him yet.

He was jerked out of his reminiscing by Arthur, again. The white horse flung his head up, snorting at the air. Curious, the Doctor also sniffed warily at the wind. That wasn't normal. But where was it coming from?

Suddenly, he caught sight of something on the horizon. A glowing orange smudge on the horizon, a trail of black smoke rising into the sky.

Fire.

Something was burning, and judging by the size of it, something big. Without another thought, the Doctor nudged Arthur towards the blaze, increasing the pace until they were travelling at a fast canter cross-country. Unconsciously his mouth stretched into an almost-unfamiliar grin. He hadn't had the occasion to use it for a year; he'd almost forgotten what excitement was.

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It was the capital of Sweden, Stockholm. The capital was burning and there was not a lot that anyone could do about it. The fire was well underway when the Doctor clattered into the town, panic having set in and people running everywhere yelling at the tops of their voices. Right, time to act the hero again.

Slewing Arthur across the path of one group of townsfolk, the Doctor glared down from his perch on the horse's back.

"You and you," he snapped, pointing randomly at two of the men in the front. "Start organising a bucket chain! Are there no wells around here?"

The group looked startled, but soon ran off with a purpose.

"That's the problem with humans…" he muttered to Arthur as he skilfully turned the horse in the direction of the main blaze. "They never get round to thinking for themselves. Soon as a disaster happens, they want someone else to do their thinking for them…Always the same…"

With a rather more forceful kick, the Doctor got Arthur moving towards the fire. Arthur didn't like it, and let him know by whinnying constantly and shying from the bits of burning wood littering the street. Despite his steed's obvious reluctance, the Doctor didn't let up, forcing Arthur towards the centre of the inferno.

He didn't know exactly why, but he felt that there was someone here that needed him. There was some reason for the Doctor to be here, if only he could find it.

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I know, he probably couldn't/wouldn't do that to Arthur, but I like that horse! And besides I don't want to give him a human companion and I need him to talk to/at someone.

So please give me opinions on 1st/3rd person.

Review!

Tai