2 – Flammable

"What is this?" Cameron took the form from Junior and squinted down at it through his bifocals. "A requisition for flame-retardant clothing? You know I'm going to say no to this, so why did you even bother asking?"

"Because Mum said no first," Junior replied with a rueful grin. "I figured I'd apply through official channels after the under-the-table aspect didn't work."

"I certainly won't deny the hazardous nature of our job." The Caseworker sighed as he rummaged through his desk for the appropriate stamp. "Where do you intend to go that you might catch on fire?"

"Why does it matter to you? I'm working." Junior shot a surreptitious glance over his grandfather's shoulder to the wall display that had first inspired him. It had been there since his mother had taken office as a way of keeping track of her sole client. Cameron had not seen fit to remove it, although Junior could not tell whether it was from a grudging respect for its usefulness or the forgetfulness of age. "Like you just said, it is a hazardous line of work. And since my time-sense isn't as accurate as yours or Mum's is, it never hurts to err on the side of caution."

Cameron followed Junior's gaze to the wall display and made a disgusted sound. "Pompeii? Your father is dangerous enough without being near an active volcano, and now you want to throw the extreme emotional stimulus of familial revelation in on top of a Time Lord and a natural disaster?" Cameron shook his head. "You are the child of your parents, that is for sure."

"Don't forget, I am descended from you as well." Junior smirked at his grandfather and rose from his chair, smoothing the wrinkles in his suit as he did so. "And who says I'm going to interact with him? All I want to do is watch."

"Fathers aren't always the heroic figures you make them out to be." Finding the stamp he was looking for, Cameron centered it neatly on the requisition and pressed the rubber to paper with a firm hand. "I say this both as a son and a father. Please be careful."

"The things I do for my work," Junior muttered as a cool breeze teased the bottom of his tunic and tickled the bare skin of his legs. "I feel like a showgirl, but when in Rome..."

"Rome's a ways away, sweetheart! Not quite sure what you're worried about." A young woman lounging in a nearby doorway laughed after saying this. "What's a fine young thing like you doing out and about by his lonesome? Looking for a bit of trouble, are we?"

"You might say that," Junior replied warily, blushing under the woman's steady assessing gaze. "Why, are you offering it?"

A second voice interjected from an older woman leaning out a window to observe. "If he's going to hang around much longer, Laelia, he's going to have to pay. And might I say, boy - " she gave Junior a disgusted look " - most men don't come here to chat."

Junior was about ready to fire off an acid remark when Laelia silenced him with another laugh and a dismissive hand gesture. "Pay no mind to Prisca there. She's just bitter because she wanted to be a vestal virgin and, shall we say, missed the mark." Prisca made an affronted sound and withdrew from the window, snapping the drapery closed behind her. "Nosy old shrew. Not my fault she's past her prime and I make more than she does. What say you, were you still looking for a little diversion?"

Finally realizing what Laelia was hinting at, Junior flushed bright pink and swallowed hard. "Erm, no, sorry. By trouble, I meant my father - he's a bit of a task, you see, and I was supposed to find him..."

"Ah." Laelia raised an eyebrow at her visitor's discomfiture and allowed herself a small smirk. "Well, good luck in finding your troublesome senior. My door's always open if you want to come by again."

"I'll definitely keep that in mind." Painfully aware of Laelia's sweetly mocking smile, Junior scurried away to spare himself further embarrassment. His steps took him down the street and away towards what he guessed to be the market portion of town. As he trotted, his preoccupation ran him straight into the path of a crimson-robed female who stumbled and would have fallen had Junior not reached a hand out to catch her. "I'm so sorry, madam, my thoughts were elsewhere."

The woman frowned, causing furrows in the intricate pattern of pigment on her face. "So they are," she murmured, giving him a strange look before hurrying off. Junior watched her go with a puzzled head-shake before moving onward. A member of some strange cult, perhaps? And why did she look at me like that? It's not like I've sprouted an extra ear or something like that...


Savoring the midday sunshine on his back, Junior slowed his stride to take in the atmosphere of the ancient marketplace, taking time to casually examine some of the goods being offered while at the same time keeping an ear out for anything unusual. He had stopped to haggle over the price of a piece of pottery when a commotion arose nearby, and he took the pretext of thinking over the potential sale to step aside where he could observe unnoticed. At the sight of the brown-suited man and redheaded woman hurtling through the plaza, he grinned and stepped into a nearby alley to avoid being spotted. "Trouble! Love it, oh yes we do..."

"Excuse me! Excuse me! There was a box - big blue box - a big blue wooden box just over there. Where's it gone?" Junior craned his head to listen to the hasty inquiry between a pottery merchant and the Doctor and groaned when he realized that he'd only just spoken with the vendor a moment earlier. Please, Elder, don't let the man make the connection or ask the obvious...

"Sold it, didn't I?" The vendor grinned in satisfaction with his fortune, oblivious to the fact that he may have done something catastrophically wrong. He brushed off the Doctor's protests, saying, "It was on my patch. Got fifteen sisterti for it! Lovely-jubbly."

It was hard for Junior to suppress a squeak of shocked laughter at the awkward scenario unfolding not far from him, but upon hearing the name of the unsuspecting purchaser, he decided to assist in rectifying the mistake. "Matriarch forbid an unattended human of this era get a look inside that ship," he muttered by way of justification. "I mean, I've never even seen what the TARDIS looks like inside, but I've got more right than they do! I'm only his bloody son - "

"I thought so." His blood ran cold at the sting of metal slicing into his back, and even colder when he recognized the voice of the mysterious crimson-robed woman with whom he had recently collided. "The High Priestess demands your blood and your life, and it is only my pleasure to fulfill her demands."

The wound now stung as the knife was withdrawn and Junior sank to the ground with a hiss of pain. "What the... hell... is up with you? You've... got the... wrong man."

"Incorrect. You just said yourself that you are the son of the prophet of the blue box, and as such we cannot allow you to live. Make your peace with your gods – if you have any - for you shall soon meet them."

"Like hell he will!" There was a roaring yell and a meaty thud as something heavy connected with the would-be assassin's skull and sent her unconscious to the ground next to her target. "Why didn't you see that one coming, Sibylline bitch?"

"Be careful, Prisca! The gods do not like such words spoken of their seers, no matter what their affiliation." A rustle of fabric as someone knelt next to the woozy young man, and a muttered oath when they saw what the Sibylline oracle had done. "Help me carry him to Fidelis, he's close and he has more knowledge of wounds than either of us."

"But he's just a boy, Laelia, and an ignorant one at that. Why not let him go and do the world a favor?"

Laelia glared up at her colleague. "We must not let any harm come to this one!" She looked back down in worry as the youth's eyes drifted closed. "Trust me on this, Prisca, even if you have never believed me before."

"Good god, Junior, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" It was a question that he had heard many times before, asked with an accompanying exasperated sigh as his mother dusted him off or reached for a fire extinguisher and/or first aid kit, depending on the situation. He was not surprised to hear it again now as he saw her in his mind's eye sitting by his bedside with her arms folded in disappointment.

"Got stabbed in the back by a Sibylline oracle in Pompeii, then got dragged to safety by two ladies of the night." Junior tried to lift his mother's foul mood with a grin, but even this failed. "Come on, Mum, you've got to admit that's pretty absurd."

Lilith rolled her eyes. "You're right about that. Sounds like something that would happen to your father – or me. Whatever are we going to do about this sort of rotten luck?"

"You can start by patching me up, please. I'd rather not die from something so stupid..."

An astonished laugh. "I'm your mother, not your nursemaid. And for pete's sake, Junior, haven't you forgotten about what's in that blood of yours? Save yourself, it's not that hard."


Fidelis shook his head in disbelief when he saw the two women and their burden arrive at his door. "What have we here, Prisca, Laelia? Another lovesick swain who can't take no for an answer?"

Prisca opened her mouth to reply but was shushed by her younger cohort. "On the contrary, Fidelis, this lad was attacked on the street. The attacker has since met justice" a rueful sideglance at Prisca "but he's hurt. Can you take a look at him?"

"Of course. Alcimus, Varius, stir your lazy bones! We've got a patient to move!" Two teenage boys appeared and carefully removed Junior from the custody of the women, Laelia breathing a sigh of relief as she shook out her weary arms. "If you'll wait in the atrium, ladies, I'll get to work."

Prisca took a seat near Laelia and waited until they were alone before speaking. "All right, Laelia, what's so special about that one? I'd never risk my neck for a stranger."

Laelia sighed, then scowled when she noticed a spot of blood on her otherwise immaculate clothing. "It doesn't take an oracle to see that he has a greater destiny than to die on the street in Pompeii. He's not from here, Prisca, not even close. And if he's that stranger's son like he said he was..." She reached into a fold in her garments and withdrew a medallion on a string that glittered dully in the dim light of the atrium. One side bore an emblem of a sword piercing two crossed rings, the other side stamped with words printed in a language that Laelia didn't understand. Vann'e Sidra, she thought, scanning the words and remembering the day that the medallion had been given to her. They told me to keep watch... "He is a treasure that cannot be allowed to pass away in some freak accident."

"Whoever sliced him knew what they were doing," Fidelis murmured as he peeled away the cloth from his patient's back. "He's lost so much blood. Alcimus, bring my instruments. Varius, fetch some bandages and clean, hot water – and be quick about it!"

The requested items were brought to the physician with admirable haste, but he and his assistants had to step back and stare in puzzlement after Varius had sponged the blood away. "Fidelis, sir, look at that! The injury is healing itself!"

"Nonsense, Varius. That would be a miracle - " Fidelis squinted down at the ravaged tissue on the unconscious young man's back. Where a deep knife wound had oozed dangerously only moments before, a pale pink scar now snaked its way up the flesh and then disappeared altogether. "I don't want to believe it, but it can't be denied. Get this lad a fresh change of clothing."

Junior next awoke to a soft hummed song and equally soft touch of cool fingers on his brow, smoothing away errant locks of his hair as he lay on a comfortable pallet. "Good, you're awake. You've been out for most of the day after that witch stabbed you." Realizing where he must be, the youth flushed deep red and did his best to sit up so that he could effect a swift exit. Laelia gently but firmly pushed him back town to a resting position, giving him the sweetly mocking smile that he remembered from first meeting her. "No, we aren't at my workplace. I rented a nicer room for you to rest in – although I'm not sure that you need it after that strange recovery."

A light tremor shook the room and Junior tried to rise again with much the same effect. "Laelia – thank you for being so kind, but I have to leave. It's not safe."

"Oh, the gods must be miffed over our mistreatment of their oracles. Let them be, I have more important things to worry about." She dangled a golden medallion just within eyesight and long enough for Junior to identify it before quickly stashing it away. "Yes, you're safe with me. I know the area better than you do; it's just a quick shake-up that will pass before you know it." Laelia paused, thought for a moment, then continued. "You were having the strangest of dreams, though. Some words that I've never heard of before – 'Pyrovile,' 'volcano' – and then you were pleading with someone to stop and think about what they were doing before they made a terrible mistake. Is something going to happen?"

"I - " Another tremor, more forceful, caused a vase to fall from a shelf and shatter. "You've been so kind, more than you needed to be with a careless stranger." You can't violate the order of things by telling her! Even though she works for the Commission, she's still a resident of this city and is supposed to die. Junior swallowed hard, squeezed his eyes shut and breathed a quick prayer for guidance. If something goes wrong, it will be on my head... "If I told you to leave right now, Laelia, leave and head for the hills, would you trust me and do as I say?"

Laelia laughed as if he had said something terribly funny. "I guess so. But why? These quakes are nothing new. Calm down, they will pass!"

"No, Laelia, they won't." Something in his eyes made Laelia catch her breath in startlement, a blue ice that froze the heart and brooked no argument. "Life for life – you saved me and now I'm saving you. Don't argue!"

Laelia nodded assent, then on an impulse leaned down and brushed his cheek with a light kiss. "Very well." She then rose and walked out of the room amidst the strengthening tremors, leaving Junior alone with his thoughts.

"It's what you would have done, right?" he murmured to no one in particular and then vanished from sight. A large chunk of stone dropped from the roof onto the mattress where he'd lain, followed in short order by the rest of the building around it. The sky above choked with ash and beneath that veil the city of Pompeii fell.