The Doctor took a step toward Rohstan. "My...friends...and I were just hoping to return to our ship to clean up and rest for a bit. But it appears there's been a new mudslide since we landed, and our ship is buried. Could we ask your help in digging her out? Once your people are all safe and cared for, of course," he added.

Rohstan nodded, a quick bob of his head. "We will be honored to assist. In the meantime, we can offer you a place to bathe and rest."

"Oh, thank God," Sarah muttered. Martha threw her a commiserating look.

Rohstan led them through the mudfields, around collapsed buildings and past flocks of workers still digging and searching for victims. Sarah wasn't sure how much longer her legs were going to hold out, trudging through the mud, which clung to her wellies and added five pounds to each already heavy foot. She tried to concentrate on other things and just keep her legs moving mechanically. She noticed, with astonishment, that the sky was lightening and realized that they'd worked through an entire night. Of course, her weary brain said belatedly, who knows how long nights are here. Long, her muscles answered back. Very long.

The last few exhausting steps were up a hill and onto dry land, where a vehicle waited. Rohstan climbed in, then waited, staring, while the Doctor helped Sarah Jane and Martha to step up into their transport, then climbed aboard himself. Sarah relaxed gratefully into the seat. "I'm afraid we're making your vehicle awfully muddy," she said to Rohstan.

He stiffened and looked at the Doctor, who looked mildly back at him. "Hope you have a good cleaning service," the Time Lord said.

"Yes, our hens are quite skilled at laundering items," Rohstan assured him.

"Good. They're going to need to be," Sarah said, yawning. "But why is it a hen's job?"

"Sarah," the Doctor said softly.

"Don't worry, I'm too tired to get on my high horse at the moment," she reassured him. Then she looked at Martha. "But once I'm rested...." She just grinned at the younger woman instead of finishing her sentence.

The drive to Rohstan's headquarters was long, at least an hour, Sarah thought. But she'd drifted in and out of sleep so much on the way that it could have been much more and she wouldn't have known. "I'm on an alien planet," she told herself as she tried to keep her eyes open. "How many more times am I going to have the chance to experience that?" Her body didn't care. Sleep, it said, and she couldn't always resist.

So when they finally arrived at their destination, Sarah's first knowledge of it was Martha, gently shaking her awake. "We're there," the younger woman said. "Wherever there is."

Sarah yawned, stretched, groaned, and climbed out of the vehicle. The mud that caked her clothes, hair and body had had time to dry on the trip and she now felt as though she were encased in a plaster-of-paris cast. "He did say bath, didn't he?"

Martha nodded. "Can't come too soon." She picked at dried chunks of mud that clung to her overalls.

They followed Rohstan into a building and down several corridors. He stopped at a doorway and spoke to the Doctor. "This is the hens' bath. Please advise your hens."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows, which caused flecks of dried mud to break loose and float down onto his cheeks. He ducked his head and brushed them off, then looked at Sarah and Martha, his lips twitching with ill-concealed amusement.

"We heard him," Sarah said wryly. She looked directly at Rohstan, who stiffened. His crest raised and Sarah couldn't help but be reminded of a cockatoo.

"Where will you be?" Martha asked the Doctor.

"With Rohstan, I s'pose," he said, looking at their host for confirmation. Rohstan bobbed his head in a quick nod. "With Rohstan and da guys," the Doctor said in an American accent, curling his lip and jerking his thumb towards the two of them, striking a Rebel-Without-a-Cause macho pose.

"Oh, this place is being such a bad influence on you already," Sarah said, shaking her head at him. He sniggered and dropped the pose.

"See you," Martha said, giving him a little wave.

They turned and walked through the doorway Rohstan had indicated, and found themselves in a short hallway.

"Hope there's more than one so we don't have to take turns," Sarah said as they walked down it.

"Well, he did say it was the hens' bath, plural, so I'd think..." Martha trailed off as they rounded a corner and saw the hens' bath.

It was a big circular room, with a big circular pool at the center of it. On the shining white tiled walls surrounding the pool were a series of pegs, which had garments of various colors hanging from them. In the pool, which appeared to be quite shallow throughout, stood or squatted a number of beings. They all froze at the sight of the humans, their huge eyes staring in astonishment. "Can't blame them," Sarah thought, looking down at herself in her mud covered orange overalls and wellies and glancing at Martha, who was in the same condition. "Bet they've never seen anything like us before."

This was her first chance to see any of these creatures clean and, apparently, naked. She tried not to stare, but as the locals had no trouble staring at them, she did take a moment to check them out.

Tail feathers. Yup, she confirmed to herself. Definitely tail feathers. And crests--nowhere near as big and flashy as Rohstan's, but still, feathery crests on top of their heads. Soft down appeared to cover their arms, with a slightly heavier line of larger feathers visible along the outside of each arm, evolutionary remnant, she supposed, of flight feathers. They came in a variety of colors, but they were all muted tones, soft browns and greys, mostly.

One of them climbed up out of the pool and walked over to them, and Sarah got her first chance to check out their feet. Definitely bird feet, she decided. The skin was leathery and scaly, and the foot had three long toes pointing forward and one backward, each equipped with a curled claw.

"I am Sparona," the hen said with a slight ducking of her head. "Are you the creatures that we have heard of, who came from afar to assist our people in our hour of dread?"

Sarah and Martha exchanged a glance. "Erm, yes," Sarah said.

"S'pose we must be," Martha added.

"Thank you," Sparona said. "We all thank you." She made a graceful sweep of her arm toward all the hens in the pool, who ducked and bobbed their heads in apparent agreement. "Would you care to bathe with us?"

"Oh, yes," Sarah said earnestly. Then she thought about it. "Well. That is."

"I do not mean to offend," Sparona said, plucking at Sarah's overalls. "But...is this your skin or a garment?"

"A garment," Sarah quickly assured her. "A very muddy garment. If we take them off here, it will make a terrible mess on your floor."

"That can be easily remedied," Sparona said. "Renncha? Larenka?" She beckoned to two other hens, who climbed out of the pool and stood by Sarah and Martha and looked at them expectantly.

Sarah and Martha exchanged another glance, then sat down on the floor and pulled off their filthy, mud-caked wellies. One hen carried them off as Sarah and Martha stood up, unzipped their overalls and shucked out of them. Another hen carried them off as well.

"Ah," Sparona said, looking at their regular clothes. "Now. Is this your skin, or more garments?"

"More garments," Martha said, looking at her clothes. The overalls had helped tremendously, but some mud had still managed to seep inside them.

"More filthy garments," Sarah said, curling her lip in distaste as she surveyed her own clothes.

"Then please to remove them and our people will launder them for you while you bathe," Sparona said.

Sarah and Martha again gave each other a look.

"We are so gonna get stared at," Martha said ruefully.

"Like we aren't already," Sarah pointed out softly.

"True."

Sarah looked longingly at the water, then walked over and dipped a toe in to test the temperature. She nearly melted. Blessedly warm.

"It's worth it," she said, and quickly stripped off her clothes and slid into the pool.

Oh, bliss, she thought, closing her eyes and letting herself relax into the water, feeling the mud and the aches floating away. She heard a quiet splash next to her and knew that Martha had also taken the plunge. She held her breath and let herself slide underwater, scrubbing ferociously at her muddy hair, wanting to be rid of the last vestige of the plaguing mud.

When she popped back up to the surface, she saw all eyes were on her.

"I think you freaked them out going underwater," Martha said.

"Oh," Sarah said. "Sorry!" she called out to the hens.

Sparona had re-entered the pool and taken up a position near them. "Sparona," Sarah asked. "Do you have any shampoo?"

Sparona tilted her head quickly and jerkily from side to side. "What is this...shampoo?" She clearly was trying to articulate the unfamiliar word.

"Blimey, the TARDIS is having trouble with this lot's language, isn't she?" Martha commented softly.

"Soap." Sarah tried to make it simpler. "For your..." She looked around at the hens who were staring, fascinated, at her. "...head feathers," she finished, lamely.

Sparona again flicked her head quickly from side to side. "We do not use soap on feathers. But...your feathers are not like ours."

"Any sort of gentle soap would do," Sarah said. "Something you'd use on a very delicate fabric, perhaps?"

Sparona nodded, then conferred quietly with another hen, who got out of the pool and headed off in the direction of the hens who had taken their muddy clothes away. She came back in a minute with a bottle of pink liquid and handed it to Sparona, who handed it to Sarah.

Sarah sniffed it, poured a little on her hand and rubbed it on her arm. It foamed up nicely. She rinsed her arm, then inspected it carefully.

"Seems harmless," she commented to Martha. "Well, here's for it. If I end up bald...." She poured the liquid into her hands and soaped up her hair, then ducked underwater again to rinse. When she came back up, she saw Martha staring at her head. "Is it still there?" she laughed, running her hands through her long auburn hair to reassure herself.

They were both scrubbed clean and wrinkly from staying in the water so long when they finally decided they had had enough and needed to find the Doctor. Sparona met them with towels and two clean garments as they climbed out of the pool--not their own clothes, which, she explained, were not ready yet, but two of the garments the hens wore. Sarah dried herself, then slipped into the blue garment that was handed to her, while Martha donned a lavender version.

They looked at each other, then both quickly and instinctively crossed their arms over their chests. "Erm. Sparona," Sarah said.

"Yes?" she replied.

"Erm. Do you have anything a bit more, erm, well, less revealing?" The hens' outfits were much like the men's--a skirt with two broad straps that went over the shoulders. The straps were nowhere near broad enough to accommodate human modesty, though.

Sparona looked at them with that quizzical air that they'd elicited from her so many times already. "You wish to cover your chest appendages?"

They both snorted with embarrassed laughter. "Yes. We do."

"We do not have such appendages," Sparona said, running her hands down her smooth, flat chest to demonstrate.

"Right," Martha choked out. "But we do. And in our culture, we keep them covered up in public."

"Ah." Sparona called another hen over to her, conferred with her for a moment, and then sent her off out of the bath room. "Please to wait and we will accommodate your needs."

"And while you're at it," Matha said, peering over her shoulder. "Could you do something about the gap in the back?"

Sarah had thought she felt a draft back there, but had been too flustered to really inspect. Now she looked over her shoulder too, and then tried to position herself so no one was behind her. The garment had a large hole in the back, obviously designed to accommodate the hens' tail feathers. "Yes, please," she added to Martha's request.

Sarah was starting to feel sorry for Sparona. She didn't know if she had been assigned to act as their hostess or if she had just volunteered for the job, but obviously, two alien females were proving a bit much for her. "That is to accommodate your tail feathers," the hen said.

"Yeah, well, I don't want my tail feathers sticking out," Martha laughed. She looked at Sarah. "You?"

Sarah laughed too. "No, I don't."

Sparona gave what must have been the bird version of a shrug, called another hen over to her, and sent her scurrying off after the last one.

"It shall be so, then," she said.

The hens must have been skilled seamstresses, because it wasn't long at all before they came back with two modified garments. A piece of fabric had been sewn in between the two front straps, and the tail feather hole had been filled in with another bit of fabric.

"Much better," Martha said, modelling the outfit and checking out her reflection in the shiny white tiles. "Thank you."

Sarah offered her thanks as well and then they padded barefoot after Sparona, who led them out the hallway, back into the corridor where they'd last seen the Doctor, and into another room. There they found the Doctor, all clean and shiny, togged out in one of the local kilts, wild hair freed of mud and back to having a life of its own, engaged in an animated conversation with Rohstan.

He flashed them that dazzling grin of his and gave them a wave, then quickly turned back to Rohstan. Sarah looked around the room for a comfortable chair, but it seemed these people only went in for hard wooden seats. Ladderback chairs, but with a few rungs missing toward the bottom. To accommodate their tailfeathers, of course, she thought. A nice, soft, comfy overstuffed chair wouldn't do at all for a being with tailfeathers. Sure would do for me right now, she thought sleepily. The combination of a long night of strenuous activity followed by a long soak in hot water had left her ready to drop in the traces. She glanced over at Martha, who had perched on one of the hard chairs, and saw the same look of dopey exhaustion on her face that she knew was on her own.

Sarah sank down on one of the chairs and closed her eyes. The second time she snapped back awake just in time to keep from falling off the chair, she heard the Doctor say, "I think my friends are ready for a rest."

"Of course," Rohstan said. "Let me show you to your quarters."

Sarah opened her eyes and blinked muzzily. The Doctor was standing in front of her, smiling down at her affectionately. "Come on, Sarah. Martha. You deserve a nice long kip."

They stood and shook their heads, trying to clear the sleep out long enough to get to a bed. Then Sarah suddenly noticed what the Doctor was wearing. "Turn around," she said with a grin.

"What..." he started to say with a frown. Then he twigged. "You first," he said, one eyebrow raised, eyes glinting with mischief.

***************

Sarah Jane was stumbling tired. The last time she remembered being this tired, she'd been a little girl and had fallen asleep on the sofa, waiting for Father Christmas to arrive. Aunt Lavinia had found her there and had walked her, asleep on her feet, to her bedroom. She had so yearned for a pair of strong arms to scoop her up and carry her to bed that night.

She was just about to that point again. Then she felt a strong arm wrap itself around her waist, and she looked up into the concerned brown eyes of a Time Lord. She smiled blearily at him in what she hoped was a reassuring way, wrapped her arm around his waist, burrowed into his side, closed her eyes, and just let him guide her to wherever it was they were going.

He fairly hummed with energy. She could feel it, all up and down her side and waist and arm, wherever their bodies touched. That's odd, she thought with the small part of her brain that was alert enough to think. I've held him and touched him--many times--before and never felt anything quite like this. Sure, he's always full of energy--this version of him even more than the others--but this... Well, maybe it was just because she'd never been this tired before. Not when he was around, anyway. She let it go and just walked along beside him, enjoying the hum, for another minute, until another thought occurred to her. He's doing it deliberately. Yes, that felt right. He's sending me energy. He knows how nearly out of petrol I am and he's filling my tank with his own boundless supply.

She opened herself to the energy, invited it in, welcomed it. He must have been able to tell, because the hum escalated until it became a song. By the time they reached their quarters, Sarah felt as if she'd had, if not a good night's sleep, then at least a very refreshing catnap.

"Thanks," she said, looking up at him.

"Wha' for?" he asked, eyebrows raised, the picture of bemused innocence.

She ignored the pretense. "You're better than a cup of coffee."

He dropped the innocent look when he realized he'd been rumbled, then grinned and clicked his teeth. "And no caffeine jitters!"

Rohstan was waiting, hands on hips, his crest rising and falling impatiently, for the Doctor's attention. When he got it, he showed him around the quarters, Sarah and Martha listening in and following along but totally ignored by their host.

It looked much like any generic apartment or hotel suite on Earth, except for not having any bad art on the walls or any upholstered furniture. The main door opened onto a room with a table and four wooden chairs. A large monitor screen, dark now, was embedded in one wall. Adjoining this first room was a kitchenette which, Rohstan showed the Doctor, was well stocked with food. There was some sort of soft covering on the floor, but it clearly wasn't carpet as they knew it. Makes sense, Sarah mused. Carpet is made up of loops and, with their talons, they'd forever be catching them in the loops.

Rohstan led them down a short hallway and opened the door on a windowless room whose walls and ceiling were painted midnight blue. "This is the sleep room," he said. That definitely got Sarah's attention, so she stepped over to where he stood to look inside.

She saw three structures, each placed a foot or two in front of a wall. Each structure looked like a padded cylinder that stood about a foot high, two wooden legs holding it up, one at each end. Like little hurdles, she thought. Little padded hurdles. But you couldn't jump over them. You'd jump right into the wall. Or if you tried to jump from the wall side into the center of the room, you couldn't, because there was no take-off room. And that's because they're not hurdles, her tired brain finally realized. They're....

"Perches!" she said, turning to Martha and the Doctor.

Rohstan's crest rose and fell quickly as the Doctor stepped to the door to confirm Sarah's diagnosis. "Erm, Rohstan," he said after seeing the perches. "We don't perch. We sleep lying down."

"Actually?" Rohstan asked.

"I'd be happy to demonstrate if he needs a visual," Sarah said.

The Doctor chuckled, then answered Rohstan. "Yes. Humans sleep in beds. And Time Lords," he added, offhandedly. "When I sleep."

Rohstan made a peculiar noise, sort of a cross between a chuckle and a cluck. A cluckle, Sarah thought, amusing herself.

"Do you jest?" he said.

"What's that?" the Doctor asked.

"Time Lords. Sleep in beds." Rohstan cluckled again, longer this time.

"Well. I'm fairly adaptable. But yes, beds work for me. Like humans."

Rohstan's large eyes looked puzzled and he flicked his head from side to side. "You are saying you are a Time Lord?"

"Hadn't I mentioned that?" the Doctor said. "Yes. I am."

"That is impossible. Time Lords are legendary."

"Well..." the Doctor said, pulling a 'meh' face.

"And the legends say they became extinct in a great war."

The Doctor's face sobered. Sarah straightened, throwing Rohstan a warning look, and saw Martha step closer to the Doctor, placing her hand on his arm and looking up at him tenderly.

"All but one," the Doctor said shortly.

"You." Rohstan said, looking at him with a peculiar blend of awe and skepticism. The Doctor nodded. "But...that cannot be. That the stuff of legend springs to life before me." The Doctor raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "But...if you were...are....were a Time Lord, then, so say the legends, you can...could...regenerate. Completely."

The Doctor nodded. "Done it a few times, yeah." A muscle in his jaw jumped as his face grew grim. "A few too many, actually."

Rohstan's crest rose and fell and his head bobbed frantically. "I do not wish to offend an honored guest, but I am experiencing difficulty believing you."

"I've seen it," Sarah said. Rohstan looked at her, then at the Doctor, who nodded.

"And Martha's come close. A couple of times." The Doctor wrapped an arm around Martha's shoulders and gave her a wan smile.

"But...if this is so....it is brilliant! Wonderful! Fantastic!" Rohstan crowed.

The Doctor, Sarah and Martha all stared at him in surprise. "Why?" the Doctor finally asked.

"My research!" he said. "As I told you, I am a scientist. This is a scientific research complex we are in. And my area of research is tissue regeneration."

"Really," the Doctor said, perking up and looking interested.

Rohstan bobbed his head again. "Yes. There are species on the home planet that can regenerate limbs if they are damaged or severed. Related species to ours, but not as advanced."

"Must be like salamanders on Earth," the Doctor said softly to Sarah and Martha.

Rohstan carried on without noticing. "My research seeks to determine the mode and mechanism of regeneration. Perhaps with the future result of our species being able to regenerate limbs. Or even--although I dared not dream it until now--complete regeneration if the entire organism is damaged beyond repair." He peered at the Doctor. "That is what Time Lords do, is it not?"

"Yup," the Doctor agreed.

"Oh," Rohstan gasped. "Will you help me? Please say you will assist me with my research!"

"Ah. Well. Of course. I'd love to see what you're working on. And if I can help, well, it's the least I can do. Since your people are going to help retrieve my ship and all."

Rohstan fairly danced with joy.

Sarah yawned. She really couldn't help it. She did put a hand in front of her mouth, but it was still clearly a yawn. A big one.
The Doctor's energy infusion had been wonderful while it lasted, but it was wearing thin.

"But back to beds," the Doctor said to Rohstan, acknowledging Sarah's contribution. He proceeded to carefully describe a bed and mattress, Rohstan listening and nodding all the while.

While the Doctor talked, Sarah walked into the sleep room and sat on one of the perches, since they seemed to be the softest seats around. She leaned back against the wall, but it was a bit too far for comfort, so she sat back up and rested her elbows on her knees. Martha walked over and sat wearily on the perch that stood in the center of the adjoining wall and Sarah gave her an encouraging smile.

"I'd be happy to sleep on the floor at this point," Martha said. "Do you suppose they at least have blankets?"

"Not sure I'd even need a blanket."

"Hang on, you two," the Doctor said. "Rohstan is going to work something out for us."

"Soon?" Sarah said hopefully.

"Hang on, I said," he repeated, kindly but firmly.

"Hanging," Martha confirmed.

"By a thread," Sarah added. She slid off the perch and onto the floor, trying to use the perch first as a back rest--too low--then as a pillow--too high. "Oh well," she thought. "Since I'm down here anyway..." She rolled onto her side, curled up with her arm under her head for a pillow, and closed her eyes.

At some point, she heard the Doctor's voice calling her name, but it just worked its way into her dreams and she didn't even open her eyes. Then she felt strong arms scoop her up, one under her back, the other under her knees, and that worked its way into her dreams too. The arms deposited her on a softer surface than the one she had been on, and then even dreams couldn't find their way into her sleep.