"I can't wait for Thanksgiving," Karen clapped her hands together as she went around the shop. "Gonna have some baked hams!"

Thanksgiving aggressively approached and all but Ripley planned for it. Karen and Arthur were visiting her family since his parents were out of town on a vacation. Matt planned on visiting family. Diana had work and couldn't come, so it was just him. Ripley, well, best not to even utter the question.

Not to say someone didn't try to ask anyway, but it seemed that Ripley didn't have any plans and that she didn't even talk about visiting her family. She never even mentioned a word about them while the others talked about their families, day in and day out, since it's almost Thanksgiving.

From what they've noticed, it seemed like Ripley either didn't have a very good relationship with her family… or she didn't have any to speak of.

Of course, talking about this with her, wasn't the wisest thing to do.

Although she restrained herself considerably, it didn't stop her from lashing out against anyone that prodded into her personal life. However, it didn't stop the trio from at least offering her a room at their tables. Even if it looked by the day that Ripley wasn't coming to any Thanksgiving dinners and planned to isolate herself in her flat.

One night, around dinner, Karen and Arthur discussed things of various nature. Their past adventures, their jobs, and so on.

Karen brought up what they planned to do for Christmas. She's aware of Matt's plans, but disappointed with Ripley's. It's inexcusable for someone to be alone on Christmas. Arthur pointed out that Ripley didn't seem to mind that much at all, but Karen couldn't grasp why Ripley was so against… everything!

"Look, if she wants to talk about it on her own terms, that's fine, but we're not doing good forcing it on her," Arthur pointed out that trying to pressure her into talking about it, wouldn't do any of them any good.

If his days working at the hospital meant anything, the less they try to prod her into coming to places and events, the more willing she'll accept later down the line. Like a patient, Ripley becomes defensive. The only way to get her to corporate, give her breathing room, but give her a door to walk through. She'll come around and they'll all laugh around the dinner table.

"She's been like this since we've known her," Karen also brought up.

Arthur frowned and pointed out, "I'm not getting shocked by her touch and I don't want to have a dent in my head. She's already cross with Diana prodding, don't let her think she's cross with you, too."

He left it at that, it's better if they left Ripley alone. Maybe in the next year, she'll have it as her resolution, be more open. Then again, when has Ripley ever been open?

Now, the four were in the shop, Matt worked dutifully to wipe down shelves and rearrange the contents. Arthur put together a typewriter that's the same model as his, so he's familiar with this model. Karen helped sweep the floors.

Ripley worked on fixing a broken VCR, it's door jammed and she struggled to unstick it with her tools. Someone's child had the idea of gluing it closed, hence why she got it so cheaply.

However, it was a rare VCR that if properly fixed and refitted, it could've fetched a nice price, assuming Ripley can unstick the door.

"So, stuck in New Amsterdam, bloody hell, Oxford's working her bones," Arthur noted that Oxford pushed her to do so much work, especially around the holidays.

Matt agreed, but he stated that they planned their own make-up Thanksgiving after she gets back.

"I have some things ready for when she gets back, it's not much, but I'm not fighting old ladies over a can of ham," Matt brushed off the shelves with the rag. "I hate canned ham, anyway."

Karen snickered and said he's better off with yams, which Matt said he would've, but the grocery store ran out.

"I'm sure you'll make a feast," Ripley murmured as she worked to unstick the door to the VCR.

She busied herself with the VCR while the others talked amongst themselves.

"If you can consider custard and fish sticks a feast," Karen smirked at Matt. She's aware of his elective tastes and reminded him that those two weren't Thanksgiving foods. Diana wouldn't be so forgiving if he gave her a bowl of custard and a plate of fish sticks.

Matt stuck his tongue out at her and argued, "Why do you think I'm gonna flub my own Thanksgiving dinner?"

Karen pointed out, "Matt, you're good at two things, dressing like an old person and having weird food tastes."

Ripley got in between the two's conversation and stated, "I'm sure Matt can read directions on a recipe card just as well as you. I don't doubt his cooking abilities, even though his tastes are elective, he won't disregard Diana's. As for his taste in clothes, I think his suspenders, his clip-on bow ties, and tweed jackets look fine on him."

Matt smiled, it's good despite it all, Ripley still had his back. "See, voice of confidence," he points at Ripley as she stuck a short knife in between the door and the VCR and attempted to cut the sticky substance away from the door.

She carefully jiggled the knife, pulling away the glue from the seams. Her knife got stuck and she jiggled it, trying to free it, her finger slipped too close to the blade and made contact, cutting her finger.

Retracting her hand, the knife stuck in the VCR still, she reached down under the counter and grabbed a bandage and some peroxide, blood dripped from her finger as she cleaned it.

Matt came to her, worried, but she told him, "Everyone gets cuts and bruises, Matt, this isn't anything to write home about."

She dried her finger and wrapped it in two bandaids and sighed as she stared at the knife stuck in the VCR. "Children, what nonsense they get into," she frowned as she realized the door's completely glued shut.

"Here, let me try," Matt offered as he stepped behind the counter and grabbed the knife. He jiggled it until the glue unstuck and he pulled out chunks of it from the door, unsticking it. Pulling out the knife, he instantly put it away and checked the door, closing it and opening it. Once it looked like it's not sticking anymore, he checked on Ripley's finger.

"I'm not dead," Ripley pulled her finger away from him. "It's just a cut."

Matt pointed out, "Well, it couldn't hurt to make sure, please be careful next time, okay?"

Ripley watched him leave from behind the counter and went back to cleaning the shelves. She shook her head and sighed, before returning to the VCR where she began to clean off the residual glue.

As she mindlessly worked on the VCR, she noticed something odd, the toy soldier that Matt bought her from his trip sometime ago, that she put up in her flat, somehow made its way to behind the counter.

She stopped what she was doing and reached for it, it looked bloody and there's a cut on its back with something sticking out. Carefully, she pulled it out and found a message. Unwrapping it, she read it and worry grew on her face.

'DOCTOR — I NEED YOUR HELP. MINERVA MUSEUM. 1946. PLEASE. YOU PROMISED ME.'

She knew exactly who left this message and she immediately dropped everything she was doing and hurried to close the shop.

"Rip, what's going on?" Matt watched her hobbling around her shop, locking the door, setting the alarms, turning off the lights, and putting up the 'CLOSED' sign.

Ripley grabbed the police box's key and hurried towards the backroom, she stopped when she remembered and turned her head. "Listen, I need your help," she begged them. "Micha needs me and I promised him that I'd help him."

Without question, the three stopped what they were doing and ran with her into the backroom, locking it from behind, and hurried into the police box.

Matt ran to the console and muttered under his breathe and he hits multiple buttons. He stepped back as he and the others felt the air change around them and the sound of metal sheets rubbing against each other echoed throughout the control room.

Within a few minutes, it finally stopped, and Ripley rushed to the door and opened it. She immediately called out, "Micha, it's me, I got your message, what's wrong?"

She looked around, finding they've materialized into the storage room of the museum. Her dark eyes glided over the boxes, trying to find the little boy she promised.

Her eyes stopped when she spotted a man standing before the police box. Behind her, Matt and the others poked their heads out, seeing the man too.

Ripley hobbled out of the police box and stared at the man, he was in his forties, but due to his youthfulness, he didn't look like he was in his forties. He had dark hair, combed back, barely a beard, and a proper dapper suit.

"Doctor, it's me," he pointed at himself. Ripley stared at him in disbelief, last she saw, Micha was a young boy, barely seven.

She stared at him for a good minute before she saw a bit of his father. "Micha, I hardly recognized you!" Ripley admitted as he shifted in his spot.

Gesturing, Ripley asked him, "I'm surprised you still remembered me, you were only a boy last time I saw you. How's your father?"

Grimly, Micha told her he'd passed away fifteen years ago, heart attack in his sleep. Ripley frowned and gave her condolence for not knowing he'd died and Micha thanked her.

"Doctor, I can't reason with him and I'm scared he'll get everyone here killed," Micha began telling his woe to her while Matt and the others stood behind her, watching him. "Do you remember that night, Doctor, when you saved me, after you left, I started thinking about it more. My father wanted to forget it ever happened, but I couldn't. When I got older, I started looking into rumors, stories, anything. I found reports that officials forgot to burn and they told of something similar. Everyone who helped relocate it died horribly shortly after and it was gone by the time police found it."

Judas' Selene's Opal matched the description of something similar that Micha found in the reports, but the difference was, it wasn't pearly white, it was black.

Ripley's eyes widened as she listened to Micha tell her what he found out and nodded. Micha begged her, "Please, Doctor, you know what they are, what are we going to do?"

Ripley firmly told him, "I didn't make my promise for nothing, now, what time is it?"

Micha told her it was almost ten and she frowned. It was night, that'd mean the males are out, females don't normally travel at night, they preferred overcast or cloudy days. For this, they're traveling anytime and anywhere.

Micha's chocolate eyes moved towards Matt and the others and he asked, "Doctor, who're your companions?"

Ripley uncomfortably looked behind and the three stared at her, she never told them about the time she helped Micha when he was a young boy. She omitted that detail when she decided to let them travel in the police box more.

"Uh, this is Matt, Karen, and Arthur, they're going to help us," Ripley mustered as she pointed to each one.

Matt looked around and asked, "Where are we?"

Micha told him they're in the storage room of the museum and that the opal Judas' showcasing is already on the showroom ready for the unveiling.

Realizing their clothes aren't going to help them blend in, Ripley shook it off, there wasn't any time to go and change out. This was a pressing matter and they couldn't play fashion show for a bunch of people that'll forget them the moment they depart.

"Alright, has anything happened?" Ripley went over the night with Micha. Micha shook his head and replied, "No, nothing's happened. Doctor, what's going to happen?"

If it's just as they fear, a lot of things are going to happen. She immediately told him, "Nobody can leave, everyone needs to stay away from the windows, and well, pray."

Blocking them inside would've ensured their deaths, but letting them escape through the exits would've also ensured their deaths, the guests would've had to stay in the museum, but away from any panels of glass, and pray.

"Excuse me, but, a little context goes a long way," Karen spoke up, she wanted to know what got the two tensed. Ripley chewed on the bottom of her lips as she told Karen, "A very bad day is going to happen unless we stop it and I want you three to be on your guard and do as I say. I don't want anything from you. I need your help. Micha, when are they going to unveil it?"

She turned to Micha and he told her Judas planned to unveil it when it's a full moon out and there's no clouds in the skies.

Micha led them out of the storage room and blended into the crowd gathering in the museum.

"How many people are here?" Arthur asked Micha. Micha counted and replied, "Almost three-hundred. He's got them all riled up to show the damn thing."

Ripley frowned as she added, "Not the only ones riled up. Micha, is there any way to close the glass ceiling?"

Micha replied that they've installed shutters and Ripley implored him to find a way to close them.

"Doctor, how am I going to do that, I'm not even supposed to be here," Micha told her. Ripley gave him her C.S.S and said, "Just tell them you're the inspector and that you're concerned about the integrity of the shutters. It'll do the rest. Go."

Micha nodded and hurried away while she looked towards Matt and the others. "What's going on, Rip?" Matt gestured, he never seen Ripley so unnerved before. Seeing her this tensed made him worry and what she said only worry him further.

"Mama's very angry," she told him. "Mama's very angry."