2
"You know what I'm in the mood for?" the Doctor said, looking away from his reverie on the time rotor, "Ice cream. That's what I want. Slow churned ice cream."
Looking up from her work at the other side of the consol, Jenny pushed silver bangs from her eyes. "Ice-cream?"
"Yup." The Doctor said, "Been craving it all day. And I don't think you've ever had real old-fashioned ice cream," his dark eyes lit up as he described, "real cream, real ice, turned slow until the texture's absolutely ace. Yes, I think that's exactly what I'm in the mood for. You game?"
Jenny watched her father with a doubtful tilt of her brows. "I think we've got some in the fridge."
"Oh, but that's store bought stuff." The Doctor said with disdain, "I'm talking about the real thing. Only one place to they do it properly too. America, pre-Korean War twentieth century America. That's the ticket. Midwest for best texture. Maybe... ah, let's make it the Dairy State. Remember which one they call the Dairy State?"
"Wismatiaon?" Jenny ventured. The Doctor held up a finger as he reset the chronotetrometer. "Close but wrong. They don't call it Wismantiaon in the twentieth century; it's Wisconsin. Set the coordinates in for Earth, there's a preprogrammed setting for each of the states on the American continent. Let's say, nineteen forty-nine. And summer. Absolutely has to be summer for eating ice cream." Then he looked up, and grinned at his daughter.
The TARDIS materialized softly in the dappled shade of the wood. Opening the door, the Doctor stepped out, drawing a deep breath.
"Ah. Smell that air. Green things and summer time. No diesel fuel residue in the air yet, too early and too far out in the country. Love that. Nineteen forty-nine, bit of a hard year for the United States."
"Nineteen forty-seven." Jenny muttered, glaring down at the patent leather shoes that completed the costume her father had insisted she wear. "You missed the target year."
The Doctor shrugged. Jenny glared up at her oblivious father. "Why does male fashion never change?"
The Doctor gave her a disparaging glance from under the brim of a black fedora he'd scrounged out of the Wardrobe. "It does. I did slick my hair back. Even put on a hat, see?" he tapped the brim. "Hat. And the dress isn't that bad, Jenny."
In response, Jenny looked down at the pink skirt and white top he'd argued her into, then back up at her father, her brows raised. The Doctor gave her a bright smile, trying to hold off any further argument."It's very nice! Makes you look quite…pretty. And it's in period."
Jenny's brows quirked a little higher. "It's pink."
"So?"
"Pink."
The Doctor slowly shook his head. "I'm not seeing the problem."
Jenny snorted. "You wouldn't."
The Doctor shrugged, and started forward. "If I'm right the main street should be straight ahead. We're on the outskirts of the small town of Wausau, Wisconsin. Wausau, Wisconsin. Has a bit of a ring to it, don't you think?"
"Rhythmic anyway." Jenny conceded, pushing aside a branch. They came out of the trees onto a narrow road, shaded by trees and lined with houses.
"Charming." The Doctor pronounced, "Feels like we walked into a Norman Rockwell painting. C'mon."
The main street of Wausau was short, lined with flat-topped brick buildings and boxy cars. Jenny grudgingly admitted that her father had been right; the women on the sidewalks all wore skirts in similar pastel shades to the one she was stuck in.
A bell rang over the door as the Doctor pushed it open. The store was bright with linoleum and chrome, surfaces flashing in the noon light that blazed through the window. The thick man glanced up from his polishing of the counter.
"Hi folks."
"Hello," the Doctor said jovially, sliding onto a bar stool, "two ice creams please." The man behind the bar set down his rag. "Sure. Got any flavors in mind?"
"Hmm…vanilla and strawberry I think," the Doctor said, "You?" he asked, glancing at his daughter.
"Chocolate," Jenny said decisively, "thanks."The man behind the counter nodded. "Sure thing, coming right up." He turned to open the lid of the freezer behind him.
The Doctor glanced over a paper on the counter, headlined '3rd Boy Mauled by Feral Dog', and tapped the date. Jenny was right; he had missed the target year a bit. He looked up and grinned as he was handed his cone. He took one luxurious lick. "Mmmm. See what I mean? Perfect!" Jenny nodded, biting into her own treat.
They took their ice creams outside, strolling down the street as the Doctor commented on interesting quirks of the period. Jenny listened interestedly. Then she grinned, gesturing with her cone at the billboard plastered to the wall of the building they were passing, which showed a manically smiling woman opening a refrigerator for display. "The art's pretty bad in this period. I know it's only an advert, but jeez!"
The Doctor laughed. "You've got a point there. Look at the way her eyebrows…" Then he looked at the wall again, below the billboard. His words trailed off. Jenny glanced up at him. "Something up?"
Instead of answering, he strode forward, reaching out a hand. He ran his fingers along the three vertical trenches that had been dug into the bricks. "Claw marks," the Doctor murmured, looking down the wall, where more vertical furrows were dug in the brickwork.
"What is it?" Jenny asked sharply.
"Claw marks," the Doctor said, "dug right into the brick." He glanced up, meeting his daughter's eyes. "Something's been sharpening its claws here."
"That's not good." Jenny said quietly, staring at the marks. Slowly, her father nodded. "I'm guessing it's very not good. Very, very not good."