Chapter One

"What just happened?" Robyn asked, getting to her feet and brushing herself off, picking leaves from her long dark hair. "Why did the TARDIS just throw us out like that?"

The Doctor continued to lie on the ground, thinking about how they'd gotten into this mess, then shook his head. "I don't know yet," he replied. "Although... there might be some kind of temporal disturbance, something that the TARDIS decided it needed to get away from quickly."

"And she couldn't wait until we were inside?"

Upon hearing this, the Doctor stood, brushing the grass and leaves from his clothes. "Evidently not, or else we wouldn't be here." He took out his sonic screwdriver and turned it on, pointing it in the area immediately in front of him. "And the temporal disturbance seems to be quite close," he continued. "We just have to find out where it is."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" Robyn folded her arms across her chest, becoming rather angry with him. "We're stuck here until the TARDIS comes back, and we've got no where to stay..."

"We'll find somewhere," the Doctor reassured her. "I'll need a place to work while we look for the source of the disturbance."

Robyn sighed. "Will the TARDIS come back?" she asked, letting her arms fall to her sides. "How long are we going to be stuck here?"

The Doctor looked at her, his face gravely serious. "I don't know," he replied, crouching in front of her. "It could be days, weeks, even months for us, but it could only be a few minutes for Amy. That's why we need to find the disturbance and deal with it as quickly as we can."

"This disturbance... is Amy in danger?"

"Very likely, but she's a smart girl, and she can look after herself. But I am going to have to do some jiggery pokery... stuff, before I can contact her."

Robyn shook her head in disbelief. "How are you going to do that?"

The Doctor rummaged through the pockets of his coat, then produced a small earpiece, not unlike the hands free device that worked with a mobile telephone. "I'll use this," he said, affixing the device to his left ear. "And whenever I'll need to talk to Amy, it'll connect me straight through to the TARDIS."

"But you've only got one earpiece," Robyn argued. "How am I supposed to be able to talk to Amy too?"

The Doctor laughed. "Oh, that's easy," he said, taking a second earpiece from his pocket and handing it to her. "I always carry a spare, in case one doesn't work."

Robyn grinned, and attached the device to her ear. "And she'll be able to talk to us?"

"She certainly will," the Doctor replied with a nod of his head. "As a precaution, though, anyone listening to us will think we're talking gibberish."

"Gibberish?"

"Gibberish."

Robyn looked down at herself, realising that she was going to need more than one set of clothes if they were going to be staying there for a while. Unlike the Doctor, she didn't feel comfortable wearing the same outfit, or variations there of, all the time. "You'll have to take me shopping," she said.

"Shopping?"

"I can't wear the same clothes all the time, Dad, not like you. So we have to get me some new clothes."

"Yes, I suppose we'll have to," the Doctor replied, with a groan. "All right, we'll do that when we find a place to stay."

"We'll need money too," Robyn added. "Can't buy clothes without money, and we'll have to pay for them, and for a place to stay when we find it."

This time the Doctor didn't respond, thinking about what they were going to do about Amy. Whatever the temporal disturbance was, it started affecting the TARDIS as soon as it had materialised, and was, quite possibly, still affecting it while they stood around in the park. Not that anything Robyn had said wasn't important. They definitely would need to find a place to stay, hopefully within the area of the disturbance, so they kept as close to the TARDIS as they could. He scratched his head. "I don't really know what to do now," he said. "It's been a while since I had to spend a long time on Earth, you know."

Robyn frowned. "Well, the first thing we should do is find a shopping centre, or something. Sometimes there's advertisements in the windows that people put there if they're looking for flatmates, or stuff like that."

The Doctor grinned. "That's a very good idea." He took her by the hand. "Come on."

Together they left the park, and walked up the street, until they came upon a small shopping village. They looked around carefully, taking note to pay extra attention to the windows, in case they found anything like Robyn had described. But, unfortunately, they didn't find anything.

"We'll have to try again in the morning," the Doctor said with a sigh. "Because it doesn't look like we're going to find anything tonight."

Robyn nodded sadly. "We'll be sleeping outside tonight, then?"

"Certainly looks like it, unfortunately."

"It's okay," Robyn replied, shrugging her shoulders. "I slept outside all the time, when I kept running away from the orphanage. Of course, I kept giving myself colds because of that too."

"Don't worry, we'll find somewhere to sleep... well, we'll find somewhere for you to sleep."

Robyn frowned, looking up at him in confusion. "Don't you need to sleep too?" she asked, yawning a little.

The Doctor shook his head. "I never need sleep... well, actually, I sleep, but I can go a long time before I need to sleep again."

As darkness descended, the Doctor and Robyn returned to the park. Neither of them said anything, resigned to the fact that they would spend that night outdoors while Amy had to contend with a malfunctioning TARDIS. They eventually made themselves comfortable, or as comfortable as they could, and Robyn settled down, resting her head in the Doctor's lap, and went to sleep.

OoOoOoOoO

The next day, the Doctor and Robyn returned to the paper shop, hoping that something had now been posted in the windows. At first, it looked like there were only the same lost dog notices, and job advertisements, that they'd found the last time they looked, until Robyn noticed something unusual...

It was a note.

In red pen.

In Amy's handwriting!

The note had been posted above an advertisement which read 'One furnished room, available immediately. Shared kitchen, bathroom, with 27 yr old male, non-smoker, 400 pound p.c.m. Suit young professional.' The one thing the advertisement didn't mention was the address.

However, Amy's note did. Robyn stared at the note, bewildered, trying hard to figure out how it might have gotten there. Amy was still stuck in the TARDIS, so how could she be able to put a note above this particular advertisement?

"Looks like I'm going to have to tell Amy to leave us a note after all this," said the Doctor, noticing the confused expression on his daughter's face. "Or else we won't be able to find this Aickman Road."

"But how..." Robyn shook her head, coming to her senses. "No, wait, if I ask you how this got here, then you're just going tell me 'Wibbly wobbly, timey wimey', so I might as well accept that it's here, shouldn't I?"

The Doctor laughed. "Good girl, you're learning." He walked inside the shop, taking the note and reading it. "This is definitely Amy's handwriting all right," he murmured. He walked back outside and checked the advertisement. "400 pound p.c.m? What's that supposed to mean?"

Robyn shrugged. "I think whoever made up the ad was trying to be clever," she replied. "I think they mean 400 pounds rent per calendar month." She frowned. "Which means we're back to needing money."

"Well, at least we've found a place to stay now," said the Doctor, placing Amy's note in his pocket. "We'll just have to convince the person who put this up to let us stay with him."

"Which brings us back to needing money," Robyn reminded him. "Because this '27 yr old male', whoever he is, is going to want us, well... you... to pay him rent." She glanced around, checking to see if there was a cash-dispenser somewhere. "Come on, this way," she said when she finally saw one, dragging the Doctor over to the machine. "I haven't got any idea how much we'll need, but..."

"Better to get a lot," the Doctor replied, taking his sonic screwdriver, and a paper bag, from his coat pocket. He handed the paper bag to Robyn. "Here, you hold this underneath, and I'll use the sonic on the machine."

Robyn gulped. "Will that work?" she asked, looking him nervously. "Besides, isn't that stealing?"

The Doctor grinned. "Don't worry, I'll put in a call to UNIT and get them to reimburse them later."

"Still feels like stealing though, even if you do get this UNIT lot to put the money back. I mean, what if we're caught? They'll take me away from you if we're caught!"

"No one's going to take you away," the Doctor replied, trying to assuage her fears. "And we're not going to get caught."

Robyn frowned. "You say that now..."

"We'll be fine."

Not inclined to argue about the issue any further, Robyn did as she was told, holding the paper bag open underneath the slot where the money came out of the cash machine. The Doctor activated the sonic screwdriver, the tool buzzing and whirring as he pointed it at the machine. Almost immediately, cash started spilling into the paper bag before their eyes. They waited for a few moments, then the Doctor returned the sonic to the off position. At the same time, the cash stopped flowing into the paper bag, and Robyn looked at it wide eyed. She'd never seen so much money before, let alone held it. She sighed. It was almost a shame to have to use any of it, but it was necessary. She needed clothes, and they needed to pay for the room they hoped to rent. "We should go buy me some clothes next," she said. "And we should still have enough left over."

The Doctor nodded, putting the sonic screwdriver back in his pocket and taking the paper bag from his daughter. "Right." He looked around, trying to work out where they should go to find Robyn some clothes, then frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" the Doctor replied, a little too quickly. "Nothing at all." He took Robyn by the hand. "Come on, there's bound to be a clothing store around here somewhere."

And so, the pair of them set off, eventually managing to find a small store where they bought Robyn a few outfits that she could mix and match as she pleased, a couple of pairs of sturdy running shoes, and a satchel to keep them in. Of course, the Doctor managed to get them thrown out of the same store not long after they made the purchases, but that didn't matter, because now it was time to find 79a Aickman Road.

"What are we going to do when we get to Aickman Road?" Robyn asked as they walked. "Start looking for the temporal disturbance?"

"We have to look for this flat Amy pointed us to first, then we'll start looking for the temporal disturbance," the Doctor replied. "Who knows, maybe they'll be in the same area."

"It'd definitely make everything a little easier."

"Or make it a lot harder. I won't be able to use any conventional alien technology when we get to Aickman Road, and that includes the sonic screwdriver."

Robyn grinned. "And you'll need to act completely human," she reminded him, finding the thought that her father would have to act like a human, for what could be a couple months, absolutely hilarious. "Maybe Amy can give you some help when we contact her." She giggled. "You'll really need it this time, Dad."

But before the Doctor could reply, he noticed a woman exit a house further along the street, then get into her car and drive off. He quickened his pace, then stopped in front of the house that the woman had come out of. He took the note from Amy out of his pocket and looked at it, then at the address on the intercom next to the front door. They matched. "We're here," he said. "79a Aickman Road."

"What are you waiting for then?" Robyn replied. "Ring the doorbell already, Dad!"

The Doctor scowled at her. "I will, keep your socks on." He straightened his jacket, then his bowtie, and approached the front door with Robyn in tow, then pushed the doorbell button for flat 79a. Moments later, a portly young man came to the door, spouting declarations of love for someone. The Doctor smiled. "Well, that's good, because we're your new lodgers."

OoOoOoOoO

The same day, just over an hour earlier...

A young man was walking past number 79a Aickman Road. He was thinking about all the problems there were in his life, and how desperately he wanted to escape them...

At least he was, when the voice of an old man came through the intercom on the front of the house, and he stopped in his tracks. "Hello?" the voice called. "Hello? Please? Hello?"

The young man looked around, wondering if the man was speaking to him, or if he was speaking to someone else who might've been close by. But he was alone. There was no question about it. The man, whoever he was, was obviously talking to him.

"I need your help," the voice continued. "There's been an accident."

The young man approached the front door, staring at the intercom, but said nothing. He had no idea what was going on, or why the old man needed help, or why the old man had specifically asked for him, but something, he didn't know what, was compelling him to go into the house. Someone in that house needed help, and he was going to give it to them.

The front door opened automatically, and then the inner door house opened with very little effort, swinging back into place when the young man was safely inside.

"Hello?" he called, looking up the stairs as the lights flickered. He rationalised this as just faulty wiring, but even if he hadn't come to that explanation, the flickering still made him worry. He shook his head, trying to forget about the flickering lights, then looked up the stairs again. Just as he thought, there was an old man standing in front of the door leading to the upstairs flat, resting his hand on the banister.

"Please, will you help me?" the old man begged.

The young man looked at him, still confused. "Help you?" he replied, approaching the bottom of the stairs gingerly. "What's wrong?"

"Something terrible's happened," the old man said. Although he was shrouded in shadow, there was the feeling that something not right about the old man, but it was hard to tell whether it was his desperation to find someone to help him, or something else entirely. "Please help me."

The young man, despite his better judgment, ascended the staircase, following the old man into his flat...

But it was the last thing he ever did.

However, the effects of this did not go unnoticed in the downstairs flat...

Craig Owens, the occupant of the downstairs flat, was in his living room, currently making tea for himself, and his friend, Sophie. This was the same woman that poor Craig loved, yet could not declare his feelings for. She was the reason he wanted to stay in Colchester, and nothing would make him leave her. However, while he was making the cups of tea, she was staring at the patch of rot that was growing on the corner of the ceiling.

"Craig, what's that on the ceiling?" she asked as she put her set of house keys, on the table by Craig's laptop.

"What's what on the ceiling?" Craig replied, without looking up.

Sophie pointed to the rot, showing it to him. "That. It's coming from upstairs." She frowned. "Who lives up there again?"

Craig looked at the rot, feeling uneasy about the whole thing. "Just some bloke," he replied noncommittally, as if that was all that needed to be said on the issue.

Although she wasn't completely satisfied by his answer, Sophie decided not to push it. It was none of their business what was going on upstairs anyway. Besides, this was her time with Craig, and she was about to let anything spoil it... well, she hoped nothing was going to spoil it. Her plans with Craig had been spoilt far too many times than she could remember, and she wasn't about to let them get spoilt again.

"So, what's the plan tonight?" Craig asked, handing Sophie her cup of tea. "Pizza, booze, telly?"

She grinned. "Yeah. Pizza, booze, telly." A loud crash came from above them, and the two of them looked at the ceiling in alarm. "What is he doing up there?" Sophie asked, but Craig didn't respond, so she decided change the subject. "You put the advert up yet?"

"Yeah, did it today," Craig replied, putting his cup of tea on the coffee table. "Paper shop window. One furnished room available, immediately. Shared kitchen, bathroom. With 27 yr old male, non-smoker. 400 pound p.c.m - per calendar month - Suit young professional."

Sophie smiled. "Sounds ideal." Just then her mobile rang, so she got up to answer it. "That's your mission in life, Craig," she joked as she picked up the phone. "Find me a man."

"Otherwise you'll have to settle for me?" he asked, letting out a nervous laugh as he picked up the Jubilee pizza menu.

"You'll have to settle for me first," Sophie countered. She looked the screen on her phone, then sighed. "Melina again." She answered the call, while Craig decided to take a closer look at the rot problem. "What? Right." A feeling of disappointment washed over her, and she knew the evening's plans would have to be put on hold. "Yeah, but I've kinda got plans," she said, hoping Melina would take the hint. She sighed again. "No, it's nothing important, it's just Craig."

Craig glanced at her and scowled. "Oh thanks, Soph," he said, feeling slightly hurt that she said such a thing.

Sophie covered the mouthpiece with her hand. "Sorry," she whispered. "You know what I mean." Uncovering the mouthpiece, she returned to the call. "Okay. I'll... eh... I'll talk to Craig. 'kay." Ending the call, she looked at Craig sadly. "Now she's having a Dylan crisis on top of the Claire crisis," she told him. "It could be another all-nighter." She smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, but I really should go. Do you... mind if I go?"

But Craig did mind, but his feelings for her kept him from showing it. "No, not at all," he replied, shaking his head. "No, honestly. Course not, go."

"Cause, I could stay?"

"No, go on," he insisted.

"I mean, we've got plans."

Craig laughed. "It's just pizza," he said, dropping the menu on the table, and trying to downplay how important it really was.

"Yeah, it's just pizza," she echoed, looking at the menu wistfully. She waited for a moment, hoping Craig would do something to stop her leaving, but what she hoped for never came. "Okay, right," she said at last. "I'm going." She collected her jacket and headed to the front door, still silently hoping he would stop her before she left.

But he didn't. "All right, then," he said instead. "Well, um... I'll see you soon."

"Yeah."

"All right... and give me a call," he added. "And I hope everything's okay."

Sophie looked at him as she went through the door. "Thanks," she replied. "Sorry." Out in the hall, she leaned against the door for a few moments, devastated that her plans with Craig had been ruined yet again. Resigning herself to another night of helping Melina, she started to head off, when another loud banging sound came from the flat upstairs, distracting her briefly. She looked upstairs, and for a moment she thought she saw an old man peering through the front door's stained glass window... then turned and walked away, knowing it was wrong to stick her nose into other's own business.

Back inside the flat, however, Craig too, was having a personal crisis of his own. He stood in front of the refrigerator, practicing how to tell Sophie that he loved her, when the doorbell rang. He looked over at the table, and smiled, realising that she'd left her keys behind. "Every time!" he said with exasperation, collecting them and heading to the front door, continuing to practice the words he was going to say to her when he gave them back to her. He opened the door, and before he could stop himself, before he realised that the person he was talking to was not the person he thought he was going to talk to, he blurted out "I love you," to a young man, and a little girl, who were standing on his doorstep.

"Well, that's good," the man replied. "Because we're your new lodgers." Not realising they belonged to someone else, he took the set of keys from Craig's hand. "Do you know, this is going to be easier than I expected."

OoOoOoOoO