Disclaimer: Doctor Who and its respective creations belong to the BBC and their respective creations. I own nothing just using them for this fanfic. Some characters are original creations invented for the purpose of the story. Although, the characters are fictional the plot is based on an actual event

Chapter 2

The Doctor and Jamie sat on red plastic chairs in a small side-street café. The chairs were certainly uncomfortable and, several times, Jamie had found himself slowly slipping down them as he waited for the food he had ordered to be served. 'Ach, could ye no' find us somewhere with more comfortable seats, Doctor,' he groaned. 'Hey, don't blame me,' the Doctor protested. 'You were the one who took off like a bat out of hell and started complaining he was hungry.' 'Aye, well, like I said something wasnae right in that place.'

Before the Doctor could reply a waitress had come over with the plate of gammon and chips which Jamie had ordered. The Doctor rolled his eyes as the young Jacobite consumed the meal with great gusto. At the sight of his companion's table manners (or rather lack of) the Doctor turned away and began to scan a newspaper he found abandoned on the next table.

Suddenly the Doctor sat bolt upright as though he had been electrocuted. Jamie gave him a puzzling look and then, deciding it was higher in his list of priorities, returned to his meal. 'Have you seen this?' the Doctor proclaimed, shoving the newspaper under Jamie's nose.

The Scot scanned the newspaper quickly, eager to get back to his dinner. The article was a piece on a recent spate of fires that had begun in the city they were in, Rotherham, and seemed to be spreading all around the country. All the victims' possessions had been destroyed except for a painting of a crying boy. There was a black and white photograph of the painting which Jamie instantly recognised as the painting the fireman had shown him and the Doctor earlier.

'Ye remember I told ye there was something no' right about that place earlier, Doctor?' 'Yes, you did.' 'Well now I've read yon article I realise what it was that was bothering me. That painting, Doctor, there's something no' right about it. I could sense it earlier.' 'What do you mean?' 'Remember, in the TARDIS, we were talking about those strange feelings I keep having? 'Yes.' 'Well this painting; it gave me one of those feelings when I saw it earlier.' 'And you think this painting is somehow dangerous?' 'Aye, like I said before these feelings are ne'er wrong. I wish they were but they've always been right so far.' 'Well, looks like we have a mystery to solve. Come on!' 'Ach, can I no' finish my dinner first!' Jamie protested.

The Doctor grabbed Jamie by the arm but the young Highlander, desperate to finish his meal, refused to let go of the table cloth. The Doctor tugged and tugged at his friend's arm but still Jamie (who was much stronger than the Doctor) did not let go.

Suddenly, the Doctor lost his hold on Jamie. All at once everything seemed to slow right down as the inevitable outcome played out before the Doctor like a film. The Doctor, losing his grip on his friend's arm had thrown Jamie off balance and caused him to stumble and land smack on his bottom, all the while still holding onto the table cloth. The momentum had brought the table crashing down and sent Jamie's dinner flying across the room. All this was followed by an almighty crash.

At the sound of the crash the café owner looked up to see the Doctor helping Jamie to his feet as the young Scot brushed himself off. 'Oi, you two!' he cried. 'Trash my café, will thi! Just you wait right there I'll sort tha out, tha young hooligans!' 'Quick, Jamie,' the Doctor yelled. 'Run!'

Jamie made towards the door before suddenly stopping and heading back towards the upturned table. 'What are you doing?' the Doctor cried. 'I havenae finished my dinner yet,' Jamie replied.

The Doctor watched as his companion scooped up as many of the chips as he could reasonably carry in his hands before making for the door just as the café owner came bounding out from behind the serving hatch.

'Get back here, you young hoodlums, tha haven't paid!' he roared.

Taking no chances the Doctor and Jamie sprinted out of the café and off down the street with the café owner's expletives ringing in their ears as they went.

When they were a safe distance away the Doctor stopped and leant against the wall to catch his breath. For his part Jamie did not seem at all flustered in anyway. He was accustomed to running from his experience of fighting on the moorland at Culloden. Instead, he began to wolf down the half a dozen or so chips he had managed to salvage from the café floor, before remembering his manners and offering one to the Doctor.

'No thank you,' the Doctor replied. 'Suit yersen,' Jamie shrugged and went back to devouring the chips with delight. 'You do realise they've been on the floor, don't you Jamie?'

Jamie looked at the Doctor, this mouth full with chips.

'So?' he mumbled. 'They still taste good!' 'But they are full of germs!' the Doctor protested, before realising that germs meant nothing to a boy from the 1700s who had spent his youth roaming the Highlands of Scotland and probably shared his home with all manner of livestock. 'Come on, let's make our way back to that burnt out house we found,' the Doctor said. 'And Jamie?' 'Aye, Doctor.' 'Please don't speak with your mouth full in future. It's very rude!'

Jamie merely rolled his eyes as he followed the Time Lord back towards the street where they had first arrived.

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