A/N: Almost all explanations... but the action's going to continue, I promise.

The Doctor woke up after about two hours. It was still too early, so Clara decided to take an opportunity and listen to him until something else could have taken place.

"Well, how d'you like my new limbs?" he asked, having come out of the bathroom. Of course, none of the old men's clothes found somewhere in the depth of Clara's wardrobe (there was a suspicion that he could open the door to another dimension right from there... thank goodness if Narnia and nothing scarier) were designed for this case, so he had ripped two holes on the back of a well-worn shirt.

Surprisingly, the Doctor hadn't turned the bathromm into a mess. It had been worse with Benna. At least three layers of skin had been scratched off her, and as about dirt... no, it's better not to recall such events.

"If you didn't regenerate again... then what took place?" Clara asked.

"A bit of interference", the Doctor replied, flopping onto the couch next to her and Benna (who was busy examining her new look - you know the difference between of what's seen and what's hidden after a long period of being not washed properly). "I guess those guys planted the beginning in me. You know, like seeds when it's about gardening. Then those seeds grew roots and... now these wings can't fall off me, because their bases got really entangled in muscles".

"Sounds horrible... but who could perform it?"

The Doctor shrugged.

"Don't really know, actually. They took my TARDIS as well..."

"Then how did you get here?"

"Through a time warp. Those kiddies work in time, searching for specimen. Taking the worlds not for power, but for experimenting. I know such type of bad guys... And I am a really curious specimen".

"Definitely".

"Managed to escape from them through a small crack. It took me to Middle Ages, where I found Benna... Can't understand what kind of name is yours, Benna!"

"Ben-na", she replied. And went on unexpectedly for herself: "Ben-na-dit".

"Benedict?" The Doctor's eyes glittered after a short pause. "Ah, I think I got it... A girl in the family is said to be a tragedy, and besides there were lots of diseases in Middle Ages because someone didn't know how to tidy things up, so you were named with a boy's name to be kept alive in both cases, am I right?"

Benna nodded. Now she was similar to an any up-to-date girl, except for her bewildered attitude and feeling uneasy in these clothes. She appeared to have thick ginger-blond hair (which had experienced scissors - in some places it had been so tangled that nothing apart cutting would have helped, so now it reached her shoulders) and freckles all over her cheeks and nose. Much better than dun locks and dull grey stripes on the face that had been there before.

"I don't get it, Benna. You didn't speak, but as soon as I appeared, you started to do it". The Doctor decided to change the talk's subject. "Did I influence you this way?"

"Doctor", Benna replied, beaming at him with mouth full of newly cleaned teeth. And Clara grinned:

"You influence everything. It's a part of you... Hey, wait. What did you say about time warps?"

"I got here through the same time warp that brought the experimenters to the escapee, aka me. But they didn't take to attention that, as a Timelord, I could try and find the way to other times or make the time itself obey my thoughts, like TARDIS telepathic circuit..."

"You're bluffing".

"I am. But I told you the truth about the time warps... All right". The Doctor bounced up. "Task: to find out who those brain-puddings are, to close all the time warps and to get rid of these..."

"And not to cause chaos again", Clara interfered. "You forgot that I've got a work to do. In some hours I should be at school".

"Why?"

"That's my job!"

"Sorry..."

"And I'll be truly pleased if you don't blow up everything in here or don't attract a bunch of paparazzi here! This refers to both of you!"

"Clara", the Doctor said in the most charming way, as far as it was possible for this groove, "do I look like the one ready to blow up the flat?"

All this time his wings were firmly pressed to the back, but at this moment they unfolded a bit, and two or three feathers fell onto the floor.

"A rhetorical question", Clara assumed.