Author's Note: I officially want Mrs. Lancaster as my mother.


Chapter 7

"We've got to get of here. Now." The Doctor tossed the sonic screwdriver, paper, and glasses into his pocket and dashed for the door. "They could be anywhere. They could be surrounding us right now. And from the strength of those signals, they might be." He shoved the door open. "Go!"

"The ink!" Rey skidded to a stop in the doorway and looked back. "Shouldn't we—"

"Right. Grab everything you can find, and go!"

Her steps slowed as she approached the cabinet, and the sounds of the Doctor and Tom scurrying around the shop faded away as thousands of voices bombarded her mind. Her fingers shook as she opened the door, and everything in her resisted closing her hand around the bottle.

She took a deep breath and forced back the wave of repulsion that filled her. She forced her fingers to close around the bottle, and jumped back as if pushed by the force of the signals.

She held the bottle at arm's length and focused her eyes on the doorway. All she had to do was get out of the shop. She could dump it in the snow the minute she got out that door…

The bottle seemed to throb against her hand, sending one message shooting up her arm and into her mind.

Her fingers released it, and it fell to the ground with a crash that seemed to echo through the entire city.

She clenched her fists and almost let out a little sob. She had given in! The ink had told her not to touch it, not to steal it. And she had let go!

"Well, that's one way to do it." The Doctor's voice cut through the fog like a knife, and her eyes snapped open and focused on him. "Bit conspicuous though. Run!"

She leaped over the spreading puddle of ink and was out the door and halfway down the nearest alley before she could take a breath. A crash echoed behind her, and she whirled to see at least five bottles crashing to the snow by the door of the shop. Relieved of his burden, Tom dashed down the alley and to her side. They glanced at each other, and their eyes met in a moment of silent assent. They flew down the alley and skidded around a corner, snow flying up in a white cloud behind them.

A tall figure loomed up before them, and Tom let out a little cry and threw himself in front of Rey.

"Well, there's no need for that!" The Doctor flicked his sonic screwdriver to life and illuminated his face with its blue light. "I'm not that dangerous!"

Tom looked away and managed a little laugh. "I apologize, sir."

The Doctor placed his hands on their shoulders and leaned in close. "Listen. Here's the plan. Whatever they're doing, whatever they're charging, it's centered on the meeting house. Split up, meet by the meeting house, and we'll go from there."

Tom nodded, and snapped his hand to his forehead in a salute. "Yes, sir!"

The Doctor grinned. "Good boy. Now go!"

Rey felt Tom's hand squeeze around hers, and its warmth flowed through her fingers. Their eyes met, and his hand lingered on hers for a moment longer.

"Your hands are cold," he said softly.

She wiggled her fingers. "I'm fine," she said.

He slipped his gloves off, and pressed them into her hands. "Take these," he said. "You need them more than I do." And then he was off down the alley, and disappearing into the darkness. She just stood there for a moment, her mouth opening and closing.

Finally, she clenched her hands around the gloves and made for the street. Whatever was pursuing her, it wouldn't dare show itself on the main street, even if it was night. Anyone could be watching.

She hoped.

She just sauntered down the street for a few moments, somehow not wanting to break the silence by running, or to disturb the snow with anything but small footprints. She wiggled her fingers, and glanced down at the gloves in her hand.

Maybe her hands were cold.

She slipped on the gloves with stiff fingers. Warmth seeped through her frozen hands, and she clenched and unclenched them.

She wished she could thank him.

She sighed, and stared down the street ahead of her, dotted with the flickering light of a few still-burning streetlamps. The blue light of early morning was just peeking over the horizon, and turning the streets to a grey haze. When was the meeting? She sped up, suddenly not caring about disturbing the snow. She needed to get to the…

The meeting house.

Where was the meeting house?

"Wonderful," she muttered, scowling at the dark form of a nearby house. "I'm lost. Doctor? D—Doct—oh, never mind. Map. I've got to—"

Oh, she wasn't going to find a map anywhere around here. Finding a map would be harder than just wandering the city until something looked familiar. She sighed, and kicked at the snow.

She should have stayed with Tom.

She closed her eyes, and tried to remember the streets she had seen that morning. Oh, why did everything look so different at night? That shop. If she could just find that shop, the one that had smelled like baking bread—

A door creaked open, and she whirled to see a dark figure emerging from the door of a shop that looked—

That was it! That was the shop! She just needed to follow the street now, and she would—

"Looking for something?" The voice was eerily familiar.

The figure emerged into the morning light, and she looked straight into the eyes of the printer.

She ran. Her feet pounded against the ground and sent snow flying up in all directions around her. The cold air stung her throat and bit at her lungs. She didn't dare look behind her. Was he there? Was he following? Had he recognized her? Oh, of course he had recognized her! She flew around a corner and skidded halfway down the alley. She was fairly sure she had no idea where she was, and she was also fairly sure that it didn't matter now. She bent over, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Why was it so hard to run in the cold?

She shot a glance behind her, and saw nothing. Not that that was any kind of indicator. He could—

She thought she saw a flash of light around the corner, and flew back down the alley and out into the street. A printer's shop loomed in front of her, and she skidded to a stop, and looked this way and that.

Slowly, she tiptoed toward the printer's shop. She pressed her ear against the door, and searched in her mind for that horrible, familiar tug.

Nothing.

She tugged at the doorknob, and to her surprise, it opened. She nudged the door open and stepped inside.

Still nothing.

She tiptoed to a newspaper and brought it close to her face.

Still nothing.

She sighed, and slumped back against the wall. This was a clean printer's shop. She could hide here.

A small sound echoed through the shop, and she stepped back. Maybe not. Working her way along the wall, she scanned the shop. The now-familiar yet still strange printing press stood in the center of the shop as usual, barely an outline in the spreading morning light. She narrowed her eyes and looked closer. Was that—

A dark figure rose from behind the printing press with a shout. She let out a little shriek and jumped backwards, grabbing for something, anything she could use as a weapon. Her hand closed around a drawer handle, and she yanked it out with a jerk. A thousand tiny pieces fell from the drawer and scattered to the ground, and she held the empty wooden drawer in front of her face.

The figure approached.

She drew back the drawer. "I have a weapon," she said, her voice shaking, "and I will hit you over the head with it if I have to."

"Please don't." She lowered the drawer, her eyes wide. Tom stood in the middle of the shop, staring at her with equally wide eyes. "Just…don't. It's me." He stepped forward. "Oh thank goodness. I thought…"

"Yeah. Never mind that." She stared at him. "How did you—"

He ducked his head, she thought she saw a little smirk on his face. "I—well, I picked the lock." He lowered his voice until it was nearly imperceptible. "My mother taught me how."

"Your mother—taught you—"

He laughed, and looked away. "She did. She has made certain that I've mastered every skill that might aid me in my future assistance to the cause…"

Rey giggled. "I'll remember that." She glanced at the door. "We should—"

"Indeed." He held out a hand, and, almost without thinking, she slipped her hand into his. "Only one block more…"

"Block?"

He tilted his head to the side. "You don't know—well, we're very close. Just come on."

The minute they were out of the door, they were running down the street, hand in hand. Rey saw the tall steeple of the courthouse in front of her, poking over the tops of a few buildings. She looked at Tom, and they both grinned.

We made it.

Something pressed itself onto her mind, a cloudlike consciousness that seemed to surround her in a bubble. She stopped, and the feeling of Tom tugging at her hand seemed to come from somewhere far away.

"Tom," she mouthed, and she wasn't sure the words came out or not. "Something's—wrong. Something's very—run!" This time she heard herself, and she took off at a run down the nearest alley. She heard Tom's footsteps at her heels and together they skidded around a corner—and straight into the form of a stranger, who was bending over a barrel.

Tom, Rey, the stranger, and the barrel all tumbled to the ground in a groaning, protesting pile. Rey wiggled herself free of the tangle of arms and legs and wood, and jumped to her feet.

She looked straight into the eyes of the Doctor.

"I had almost gotten it!" He held up something that looked like a strangely-shaped gun. "I had almost gotten it out, when you two had to run around the corner and come barreling into me like you were fleeing from the devil himself! Well, not the devil himself, that was another planet, but something close. Now I'm going to have to start over! You've probably broken it. Next time you…" His voice trailed off, and he stared at the thing in his hand. "Oh," he said. "I got it." A grin spread over his face. "I got it!" He turned it over in his hands and examined it. "Now what could you be?"

Tom stared at the Doctor. "Where did you get that?"

"Oh—in the barrel. This thing was mounted inside this barrel. Whatever it is, it's—oh." He stared at the sonic screwdriver, which he had retrieved from the ground after the collision, and was now scanning over the strange object. "Oooh. That's bad. That's very bad."

Rey glanced between Tom and the Doctor. "What is it?"

"This is a vaporizer. And it's a big one, too."