Hello, all! Thank you as always for your patience. Here we go with Human Nature, at last!

Two blurs of reddish-orange lightning skidded across the Herefordshire moors, brilliant against the night. Sometimes in unison, other times with one or the other ahead, the two speedsters danced, racing, leaping, spinning, letting the Speed Force fill them and carry them, coming together to launch an exchange of friendly strikes, before separating again, reveling in the sensation of the ground under their feet, the wind in their faces, the lightning in their bodies…

It doesn't get much better than this, Barry Allen thought, leaping clear over a lonely farmhouse, twisting in mid-air to watch his sensei follow. The other speedster landed with barely a jolt, then dropped low and attempted to sweep Barry's legs out from under him, but he rolled forwards over the sweep and came back around, rising just in time to see Max's fist coming towards his face at a speed most airplanes would envy. Barry wove underneath, grinning, and responded with a flurry of strikes of his own, most of which Max parried, blocked, and deflected, taking a punch to the stomach with a grunt and nod of acknowledgement.

"You're getting there, grasshopper," he smiled. "Soon we'll…"

What they would have to do, Barry never found out, as just then, a green light swept over them from above, followed by the sight of an object streaking downwards from the sky.

They've found us.

Speeding across the countryside, the two men searched the ground for several miles in every direction, but found nothing.

"I'd better warn Martha," Barry said. Max clapped him on the shoulder.

"Do that. I'll let you know if I find the ship."

"Be careful," Barry warned his mentor, but the elder speedster just smiled.

"I have been doing this for a while, you know."

"Just wanted to make sure your creaking joints were up to the task," Barry smiled back. "Let me know if you need a cane."

"Oh, you'll be getting a cane…" Max warned him, frowning, but there was a teasing glint in his eye. "Be well, Barry."

"Later!"

"Oh, and Barry?"

"Yeah?"

Max smiled at him. "I'm very proud of you."

The younger speedster blushed and shuffled his feet a little. "Thanks."

"Good night, my friend."

"'Night!"

Barry had no way of knowing that that would be the last time he saw his friend alive.


After a quick consultation with Martha (who, like them, had seen the light of the ship, but failed to find anything), Barry had spent the night sleeping uneasily before going back to work in the library the next day. He organized books, checked in with John Smith, talked to students and professors, and ate lunch in the school cafeteria, all the time half-expecting another energy beam to materialize in thin air. Nothing happened, though, and by teatime, he'd almost started to relax.

Have to meet up with Max again tonight, Barry thought. Get Martha, too, do a planning session. Should we just hole up inside the TARDIS? But no, if we do that, these guys will probably never leave us alone. Maybe reopen the watch, get the Doctor back, and steer the TARDIS somewhere no one else can get hurt?

"What's comin' will come and we'll meet it when it does," Barry muttered to himself. "Good advice, Hagrid."

The past is gone, Max had said to him once. The future is imaginary. Even eternity will always be now.

"Right," Barry nodded to himself. He centered himself with a deep focusing breath, inhaled his tea, and began to sip.

And then nearly spilled it all over himself when Martha burst in, cap and gown askew.

"They're here."

Barry jumped to his feet, tea forgotten, as she explained that she'd been having tea with her friend Jenny, when she had started to behave incredibly oddly.

"I made up an excuse, and ran over here, but she shot at me with this, this energy blaster thing."

"Like the ones from before?"

"Yeah, exactly."

"Okay," Barry rubbed his hands together nervously. "We need to grab John, uh, the Doctor, the watch, and warn Max."

He grabbed for his cell phone—which he'd been keeping in his coat pocket all day—and speed-texted his mentor, then nodded at Martha.

"Let's get John."


Unfortunately, John Smith was in no mood to listen to them, especially when it turned out that the watch had gone missing.

"What do we do now?" Barry asked once John had fired Martha and literally shoved them out of his rooms, intent on going to the ball with his date Joan Redfern, the school matron.

Martha looked at Barry, aghast. "I was hoping you'd know! You've been with him a lot longer than I have!"

"Not that long!"

"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "Like Max would say, focus on the present. We know they don't have it, otherwise they wouldn't have bothered taking Jenny and asking me questions."

"Unless they grabbed it just now while we were in the library," Barry pointed out, a dawning sense of horror growing within him.

"Couldn't have, he's been in there with Joan, he would've said something," she pointed out, and it was Barry's turn to take a deep breath.

"Right. Okay. And you're sure it was on his mantelpiece yesterday when you dusted?"

"Positive."

"Hang on."

Barry was gone in a whirl of lightning for just long enough for Martha to start worrying, then sped back, face set. "I didn't see it lying around anywhere, not in any of the dorms or anything. So probably, if someone took it, they have it with them."

"Your shoes are smoking," she pointed out, and he stamped them out while muttering to himself. "But who'd steal a watch?"

"Has to be a student or one of the teachers," Barry mused, eyes narrowed. "Maybe a prank of some kind?"

"What do we do now?"

"OK. I guess we'd better go to the dance, keep an eye on John."

"Guess so."


Things at the dance, however, weren't much better. Spying an opportunity, Martha sat down in front of Joan as John went off for drinks. She whispered something to Barry, who rushed off to the TARDIS.

"Please, don't," Joan begged. "Not again."

"He's different from any other man you've ever met, right?" Martha asked.

"Yes," she admitted unwillingly.

"And sometimes he says these strange things, like people and places you've never heard of, yeah? But it's deeper than that. Sometimes when you look in his eyes you know, you just know that there's something else in there. Something hidden. Right behind the eyes, something hidden away in the dark."

"I don't know what you mean," she insisted.

"Yes, you do," Martha said quietly. Just then, with a rush of wind and lightning, Barry arrived out of thin air, holding out a metallic device.

"How…how…"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Redfern," Barry told her. "I really am. But there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

"Hamlet," John Smith said as he returned to the table. "But really, Martha, Mr. Allen, this is getting out of hand."

Barry simply held up the sonic screwdriver, which he'd grabbed from the TARDIS.

"Do you know what this is?" Martha asked. "Name it. Go on, name it."

"John, what is that silly thing?" Joan questioned. "John?"

Hesitantly, almost unwillingly, John reached out to take it.

"You're not John Smith," Martha told him. "You're called the Doctor. The man in your journal, he's real. He's you."

Just then, two people burst into the hall-a woman Barry recognized as Martha's friend Jenny, and one of the students from the school. He thought his name might've been Baines. Both wielded energy weapons that no more belonged in 1913 than Barry's ring or Martha's cell phone did. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tim Latimer, one of the boys from the school, ducking aside from a window and slipping something into his pocket.

"Silence, all of you!" Baines—or whatever was possessing him—demanded. Just to prove a point, he shot a man, who vaporized on the spot. "Quiet, now!"

"Mister Smith?" Martha whispered. "Everything I told you, just forget it! Don't say anything."

She traded a look with Barry, who mutely shook his head. If they ran, they would be leaving a hall full of people alone with a pair of dangerous, ruthless aliens.

Not having that on my conscience, he thought as he stepped sideways to block their view of Mr. Smith. Behind his back, he waggled his fingers. Thank God, despite being human, his friend was still quick on the uptake, and passed Barry the sonic, which he slipped into his pocket.

"Now then," Baines drawled. "We have a few questions for Mister Smith."

"No, better than that," piped up a little girl who'd been sitting to one side. "The teacher. He's the Doctor. I heard them talking."

Barry ground his teeth. Son of a Sith.

"You took human form," whatever was possessing Baines murmured.

"Of course I'm human," John snapped. "I was born human, as were you, Baines. And you, Jenny. What is going on? This is madness."

"Ooo, and a human brain, too. Simple, thick and dull."

"But he's no good like this," whatever was inside Jenny piped up. "We need a Time Lord."

"Easily done," No-Longer-Baines replied, raising his ray gun.

"Change back."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Change back!"

"I literally do not know…" John started, but No-Longer-Jenny grabbed Martha, too, and put a gun to her head. Barry winced, but he couldn't keep his cover any longer. In a blur of motion, he'd rushed forwards, and both guns were suddenly lying to one side. Martha took a small step forward to pull her captor off balance, twisted to loosen her grip, and kicked backwards. No-Longer-Jenny let her go with a gasp.

"Good one," Barry muttered, wincing in masculine sympathy. "Max'd be proud."

"Still human anatomy, then," she pointed out, and he nodded.

"Nice moves," No-Longer-Baines snarled. "But whatever that was, you cannot stop us!"

Half a dozen scarecrows marched into the room, amongst screams and shouts from the other villagers. They stamped to a halt in almost military formation, and paused, waiting for orders.

"Wait a minute," No-Longer-Jenny said. "The maid told me about Smith and the Matron. That woman, there. And that one, too. I remember from her memories. The librarian."

"Excellent," No-Longer-Baines purred as Joan shrank back a little, and the Doctor (chivalrous in any form) put his arm around her shoulders. Martha and Barry stepped back-to-back.

"Doctor, if you won't change back…tear them all apart."

Where is Max Mercury in all of this? How will our intrepid heroes escape? Will John Smith be willing to die to turn himself back into the Doctor? What will it take to convince him? What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow? (Almost) all these questions will be answered next time!

I'm in the middle of finals period, but I have an outline of Part 4 already done, so hopefully it'll be finished and out in a few weeks. Happy Hanukkah to my Jewish readers!