Author's Note:

Thanks very much to the lovely people who took the time to review. Your feedback is always so encouraging :)

So big hugs to: MayFairy, Vincenth, MountainLord-92, CallingTheMaker, The Yoshinator, CelestialValkyrie, Raingirlkm, XxCupcakeAssassinxX, EmmaMarie,CrimsonDelight, HydeAndSeek, skidney, EDZEL2, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, SophieQueenOfTheWorld, silentnightDW, ConfusedSoAmI, Theta'sWorstNightmare, TheWickedHeart and Son of Whitebeard.

To silentnightDW: Yeah, now that Charlie's been activated, it won't be easy for Allie to get rid of him. And Larry is great, isn't he? He definitely needed a bigger part in canon. Thanks so much for the review. Hope you enjoy this one as well :)

- CHAPTER EIGHT -

Allie didn't have time to think, she only had time to react. Later, she wondered if, had she been able to consider the situation properly, she might have been far too scared to do what she did. As it was, the only thought in her mind was the terrible danger Larry was in.

Before Charlie could reach them, she flung herself in the path of the golem's deadly charge, her arms spread wide, forming a human shield in front of Larry.

"Stop!" she yelled. "You said I'm your master, so I command you to stop! Larry's my friend, you're not to harm him!"

To her utter relief, the golem pulled up short, standing almost face to face with her. Allie's fear was so great that she almost stopped breathing. There was no doubt about it, Charlie had increased in size. This close, he was taller than she was, his red eyes smouldering like embers as they bored into hers. She could hardly believe this unearthly creature was the same comfortable statue that had kept her company during the long, boring hours in the shop.

"Friend?" he echoed. "What is friend?"

A tendril of hope unfurled inside her. Perhaps she could make him understand after all. Perhaps if she explained, he would let them all go and no-one else would be hurt. "A friend is someone you know and care about," she said urgently. "Someone you trust! I care about Larry and I trust him!"

For a few seconds, the golem was silent, and Allie began to think she might have reached him and this nightmare would all be over. But then his eyes glared brighter than ever, as though a fire was blazing out of control inside his head. "Friends...betray!" he said harshly. "Friends...kill! This I have seen. Friends...are a threat to Allison Castiel. All friends must be eliminated."

With that, he brushed her roughly aside, consumed with the single-minded determination to get to his quarry. Allie struggled with all her might to stay upright, desperate to keep herself between him and Larry, but it was like wrestling with a brick wall. Charlie swatted her aside with no effort at all, sending her tumbling to the carpeted floor, dazed but unharmed. From there, everything seemed to descend into confusion. A screaming, high-pitched noise suddenly tore through the air like a hail of razor blades. The sound was so intense that Allie felt as though her ears were bleeding inside. Like an enraged bull, Charlie swung around, instinctively searching for the source of the piercing uproar, wanting to find it and destroy it.

Dimly, Allie could hear the Doctor's voice, shouting Larry's name and telling him to run. Then the Time Lord was beside her, tugging her to her feet. Charlie charged at them, but the Doctor raised his sonic screwdriver, the blue tip glowing. Belatedly, Allie realised that the hideous noise was emanating from the slender device. Momentarily confused by the wall of sound, the golem fell back, just long enough for the Doctor to seize Allie's hand and to sprint towards the French doors leading out into the garden. Larry was just in front of them, making the most of his reprieve and running like the wind.

Allie ran faster than she ever had before, forcing herself to keep up with the Doctor's long-legged stride. Her breathing was rasping madly in and out, her throat burning as if it was on fire, and her heart was pounding fit to burst. It had been cold enough inside the house, but the frigid air outside hit her like a slap in the face as they burst out into the garden and pelted across the snow-covered lawn. It should have been terrifying – and it was, knowing that Charlie was right behind them - but somehow it was also exhilarating at the same time, the Doctor's hand tightly wound around hers, filling her with both confidence and comfort. In a weird way, running with him was almost like flying.

"The TARDIS!" he shouted. "If we can get there, we'll be safe!"

Just ahead, Allie could see Larry veering towards a small copse of trees at the end of the garden. And there, showing through the bare, wintery branches, was the warm blue outline of the Doctor's police box.

Behind them, a long, ululating roar cut through the thin, frosty air. Risking a glance back over her shoulder, Allie realised that Charlie was standing in the open doorway to the house, his head thrown back, as though he was calling for something. The chilling thought sent shock waves curling down Allie's spine. Calling for what?

She didn't have long to wait for the answer. Even as the last echoes of the golem's call died away, scattered patches in the smooth carpet of snow began first to shift, as if something unspeakable stirred beneath, and then to bulge.

"RUN FASTER!" the Doctor urged, pulling harder on her hand.

Even as he spoke, a dozen dark figures began emerging from the snow, unfolding themselves and slowly standing upright, as though they were being born from the earth. The shapes were rough, barely formed, almost clumsy and lumpen in appearance. Apart from having a head, two arms and two legs, they were hardly recognisable as humanoid. But they all had glowing red, sentient eyes. And they all began moving as one, converging on the three fugitives running through the garden.

"What are they?" Allie screamed.

"More golems!" the Doctor responded. "Charlie's been busy building an army!"

Up ahead, Larry had reached the TARDIS, but the doors wouldn't open, no matter how hard he shook them. Whirling around with his back to the police box, he stared wildly back the way he had come, his eyes wide as he saw the macabre figures bearing down on them.

"DOCTOR!" he yelled. "HURRY!"

Allie's strength was failing rapidly now and her legs were beginning to collapse beneath her. The golems were so close, she could hear them shuffling through the snow at her back, sense their misshapen hands reaching out to seize her. Knowing she couldn't go much further, she tried to tug her hand free of the Doctor's, wanting him to go on without her. However, he refused to let go. Drawing on some unknown, hidden reserve of energy, he put on one last extra spurt of speed, hauling her over the remaining stretch of ground separating the two of them from safety, somehow just managing to keep them ahead of their pursuers. There was a gleam of bright metal in his free hand, and she realised it was a key. There was nothing alien about it at all – it was just an ordinary Yale lock key, like the one she used to get into her own house. Without hesitation, the Doctor thrust it into the lock in the police box door and twisted it. The door swung open and Larry and Allie tumbled inside. The Doctor brought up the rear, wheeling around and slamming the doors shut, before engaging the dead lock.

There was a huge jolt from the outside and the entire TARDIS shuddered as the small army of golems tried to force their way inside.

"Blimey, that was a bit close for comfort!" the Doctor exclaimed, leaning his back against the doors and slowly sliding to the floor. Allie collapsed beside him, her eyes tightly closed in overwhelming relief, fighting to get her racing heart-rate back under control.

Larry was bent over double with his hands on his knees, sucking in great, ragged gasps of air. "They...can't...get in, can they?" he asked worriedly, as the ship shook violently once more.

"Of course not!" the Doctor retorted. "Genghis Khan and all his men couldn't get through those doors!"

Reassured more by the confident tone of his voice than by what he was actually saying, Allie gradually managed to calm down. And as the blinding rush of adrenaline began to recede and her breathing settled back into a more regular pattern, coherent thought started to filter back into her brain. The blue police box...the shining key...the doors opening... The images flashed at her in a choppy, disjointed sequence, like a badly made film, as the realisation of where she was dawned on her. She was inside the Doctor's ship. The TARDIS, that was what he had said. She was inside the TARDIS.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked around. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but her first sight of the console room just about stole what was left of her breath away. His ship wasn't just bigger on the inside, as he had claimed. If anything, he had been understating it. It was enormous on the inside. If it hadn't been for the terrifying army of living statues still audibly banging around outside, nothing would have stopped her from running out to make doubly sure they were truly inside that tall, narrow blue box. The room was circular, the walls an indescribable colour - not quite gold, and not quite bronze - studded with a myriad of small hexagonal indentations. Allie couldn't even begin to guess what the walls were made of. Spaceship design hadn't actually formed a large part of her A Levels. But she got the impression that it wasn't any usual sort of building material – somehow it looked organic, warm and alive, as if the ship had been grown rather than constructed. The six roof supports looked remarkably like intricately-twisted pieces of sea coral. And in the centre, on a raised metal mesh platform, a control console dominated the room, also circular in shape, and topped by a crystal column which reached the ceiling, inside which appeared to be a glowing green inner assembly of tubes. Even though the ship was stationary, the control room hummed with dynamic, vibrant energy, teeming with invisible possibilities and untold potential. The overall effect was alien in the extreme, an atmosphere like something out of a dream. Allie was sure she had ever seen anything so beautiful in her entire life.

"What do you think?" the Doctor asked.

With some difficulty, she tore her eyes away from the incredible sight, returning her awed gaze to where he sat beside her. He was watching her intently, an expectant expression on his face as he waited to hear what she would say.

"It's...amazing!" she whispered in a heart-felt voice. The word was completely insufficient to convey how she felt, but she couldn't describe it in any other way. The TARDIS was unique. Just as he was unique, she thought, staring into those warm, intelligent brown eyes. Surely there could be nothing else like either of them, the Doctor or the TARDIS, in the whole of the Universe.

Even though her words had been inadequate, she knew instantly that he understood, as if he had read her mind and knew everything about her. He smiled at her, that wonderful smile he had that lit up his face, the whole room, the space between them. "Welcome to the TARDIS, Allison Castiel."

This is here, she told herself, sudden joy welling inside her as she smiled back at him. This is now. I am here, with this extraordinary man, inside his alien spacecraft. This is one of those rare, perfect, golden moments to snatch and hold on to, to keep no matter what happens in the future.

It was always a telling moment for the Doctor – those initial seconds when a potential companion stepped fully into his world for the very first time. The TARDIS was his pride and joy, the only constant in his long, wandering life. Seeing how his companions reacted to her never failed to intrigue him, no matter how dire the circumstances. Often, that first instinctive gut-reaction told him volumes about the people he came in contact with.

Amazing, she had said. It was a word he usually disliked. Amongst humans, it was trite, cliched and horribly over-used. It was the same word they used in TV commercials when describing a vacuum cleaner with out-standing suction; or by air-headed teenage girls trying to impress each other with how wonderful their boyfriends were; or by office workers around a water cooler on a Monday morning, chatting about an enjoyable weekend trip to the seaside.

But Allie didn't mean it in that way at all. One look into her wide, candid grey eyes soon proved to him that she meant it in the true and absolute sense of the word. Despite the tension and stress of the last few hours, the magic of the TARDIS had captured her as soon as she entered.

And in those tiny few seconds when he saw the unalloyed joy and wonder shining in her eyes, he knew that he had been right to come back for Allison Castiel. No matter how far and how fast they had to run to escape his impending death, it would all be worth it.

All he had to do first was to sort out the small army of golems following her all over London and then they would be home free. Simple.

"Right," he said, levering himself to his feet. "Let's get cracking!" He pulled off his damp coat and tossed it over one of the coral roof supports, before hurrying up the ramp to the console platform.

"Where are we going?" Larry asked, forcing himself to straighten up.

"Somewhere I can think without all that racket going on," the Doctor answered, as the banging on the outside of the TARDIS got even louder.

"But... we can't just leave!" Allie protested, climbing shakily to her feet and following him up on to the platform. "Charlie's killed people. We can't just leave him loose to do whatever he wants. Who knows what he'll do next, or where he'll go!"

"Oh, I know exactly where he'll go," the Doctor replied in a calm voice, flipping some switches and re-setting the navigational co-ordinates.

She stared at him. "Where?"

"Wherever you are," he told her bluntly. Then, seeing from her blank expression that she still didn't understand, he added more gently, "Allie, Charlie's a golem. He's a clay figure, artificially endowed with a charge of life energy. Basically, he's a tool, a weapon, with a specific purpose - nothing but a mindless, soulless construct. He exists for one reason only, to follow orders literally and unrelentingly. You can't reason with a golem and you can't bargain with them. He will fulfil his purpose, his emet, or die trying."

Allie sat down abruptly on one of the yellow jump seats facing the console, as if her legs would no longer hold her up. "And...his purpose...is to protect me?"

The Doctor nodded. "Apparently so. You could travel to the other side of the world, and he would still find you, wherever you hid. He won't stop, or give up, no matter what. He doesn't need food or air or sleep. He can withstand any kind of environment. And human weapons are completely useless against him."

"But why? Why me? I don't understand any of this. I don't know anything about golems. I've never even heard of them before!"

"You've obviously never played 'Dungeons and Dragons'," Larry commented, seating himself beside her on the other jump seat.

"No, actually, as it happens, I haven't," she said tartly. "My bad! When I was a teenager, I was more into playing 'Doctors and Nurses', if you know what I mean. 'Dungeons and Dragons' never quite made it on to my radar! And even if he is a golem, why would Charlie suddenly come alive after two years and decide that I'm his master?"

"He was dormant. The Rift energy contained in those artefacts from Africa must have woken him," the Doctor explained. "I'm guessing you were the first thing he saw when he woke, and he's imprinted on you, like a newborn chick emerging from its egg. His original emet was to protect his master and he now thinks that's you."

Horrified, ashen realisation crept across her face. "Oh my God, then it's my fault, isn't it? I'm the reason that Terry and Mrs Neeson are dead. That thing killed them because of me. And he tried to kill you and Larry. I'm like some sort of walking Jonah. Everyone I come into contact with is in danger!"

"It's not your fault, Allie!" the Doctor said sharply. He recognised that look only too well – he had seen it staring back at him from the mirror too many times to mistake it. It was survivor's guilt, that terrible, twisting feeling of self-blame you got because you were alive and other people weren't. He'd carried a heavy load of it in his own life for such a long time now, and the last thing he ever wanted was for any similar pain and regret to fall on Allie's slight shoulders. "You had no way of knowing any of this was going to happen! But you're right, we do need to stop him. Somewhere along the line, his purpose has become twisted, and he believes that everything human is a threat to you and must be destroyed. He's going to keep on killing single-mindedly until there are no humans left. And if he continues creating more golems like himself, until he has an army, that's a very real possibility. We need to find out exactly where he came from."

Allie bit her lip uncertainly. "My aunt bought him at an auction for a deceased estate," she said. "But I can't remember the name of the person he belonged to. I'd have all the relevant information back at the shop, though."

"Then hold on to your hats!" the Doctor exclaimed, slamming down the de-materialisation lever. "Because back to the shop we go!"