Head Notes: Back again. I loved writing this chapter, specifically the interaction between the Doctor and Root. And I hope it is an enjoyable read. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

Clara sighed once again as her eyes wandered the walls of her prison. She'd been surprised when the old man had spared her life. At first she was relieved. But after staring at the walls for so long, she was growing bored. She didn't even know what time it was. The men had taken and destroyed her phone so there was no chance she could send a message to the Doctor or call for help. And the clock in the room had been removed. She had a bed and some water in a jug, but not much else. There wasn't even a window she could look out of.

Finally, the lock on her door started beeping and the door opened. The old man came in with a delightful smile on his face.

"Good morning, Miss Oswald," he greeted in a British accent.

"Why are you holding me here?" she asked. "No, hang on, better question: What is this place? You've got a private army, an insanely quick response time, and, judging by the way you haven't killed me yet, you need this place to be kept private, don't you. That's why you haven't killed me yet. Because my friend is out and you need to find him, don't you?"

The man didn't make a sound as she spoke, letting her work things out on her own. He almost looked impressed as she moved from one conclusion to another.

"A bright young lady is always a beacon of light in this dark world," the man replied, smiling. "But you're not the usual bright young lady. Your records show that you are already a school teacher at Coal Hill School in London. It's the middle of the school year, Ms. Oswald. What are you doing on the other side of the Atlantic?"

"Funny," Clara said slowly. "That's exactly the question I was going to ask you."

The old man gave an amused smile.

"So, where is your friend?" He asked. "How can we find him?"

Clara laughed. "You think you'd be able to find the Doctor?" She smiled. "Good luck, because he never stays in the same place for long."

"I sincerely hope you change your mind," he said, turning to leave. "Your stay with us will be much more comfortable if you cooperate."

"Never," Clara hissed.

"Very well," he said, closing the door behind him.

XxXxXxXxX

The Doctor watched as the woman sipped her coffee savoringly, his own coffee practically untouched. She had chosen a shop with an outdoor patio, the umbrella on top of their table providing shade. She put down her cup and looked across the table at him.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Well, Doctor, you can call me Root." She answered.

"How do you know my name?" he wondered.

"My boss has been telling me all about you. She's had to go quite a ways back to put all the pieces together and now, She's kind of a big fan of yours. The different faces throws Her off sometimes, but one thing always gives you away."

"And what's that?" he asked.

"The blue box," she whispered intriguingly. "She says it took her years to figure out how all those faces were one man. Until one day She found footage taken from a hospital where she saw one version of you die on the operating table and another stand up and walk away." She shook her head disapprovingly. "Humans can be so disappointing, can't they, Doctor. Although, I guess, in their defense, how could they know?"

"Know what?" he whispered. Though he suspected what she was going to say.

"That you're not human." The coy smile playing on her lips unsettled him. How did she know all this?

As if she could read his mind, she continued. "Your medical records from the time you served as the scientific adviser for the Unified Intelligence taskforce. They report that you have two hearts and that your blood type is not matched to any living creature native to Earth. We must be like ants to you."

"So since you know all this," the Doctor interrupted. "How are you going to help me? What is your boss going to do?"

"Well, first of all, She wants you to know that your friend Clara is alive and safe for now. The people that have her haven't killed her."

"She's still alive?" he breathed in relief. A relief that simultaneously transformed into worry. "Where is she? How are we going to save her?" the Doctor interrogated, rising from his chair.

"For a man who travels through time and space, you seem a bit short on patience," she remarked.

"Shut up! Just shut up!" he hissed, leaning over the table. "My friend is trapped in an unfriendly place with people armed to the teeth with guns. People who I have no doubt will kill her the moment they can find no use for her. And if that happens because we spend too much time criticizing my bedside manners, then you'd better be very, very careful how you speak to me."

"Relax," she smiled, meeting his stony glare with the same coy smile. "My boss wants to help save her. The problem is there isn't much we can do without your help."

"What do you need?" he growled.

"The people who have your friend are ruthless and not to be underestimated," she whispered softly. "The only way we can save your friend is to destroy them once and for all. We have a team working on something that will help with that, but my boss says that with your help, our chances of actually succeeding improve by ten percent."

"So basically, you'll help me if I help you," he summarized.

"If it makes you feel better, we are under the same predicament you are," she smiled coyly, reaching across the table to grasp his hand. "Are we ready, Doctor?"

XxXxXxXxX

Claire Mahoney walked through Samaritan's new base. After the last four months, they had regularly changed the base location, usually lasting about a month and a half or so before moving on to the next. She didn't know exactly why they changed bases so often, but she figured it was a way for Samaritan to remain discreet and undiscovered.

Frankly, she didn't know why they were keeping it a secret. All the amazing things Samaritan was doing, the work it was doing educating children, making sure they could fight their way out of a life of poverty, and planning a way to feed not only children here in America, but in other third-world countries. A program so advanced it was finding ways to solve all the problems humanity had created for themselves. If it was up to her, she would shout from the rooftops about the brilliance and passion of this amazing A.I. But for now, Samaritan wanted to remain a secret.

She caught a glimpse of Mr. Greer just as he exited a room. He put in the lock code and the deadbolts fastened in place. It wasn't a room they used very often and they only locked the doors when the room was storing something valuable. And ever since he'd ordered her shot on a rooftop with no guarantee of survival, she'd found it difficult to trust him.

"Mr. Greer," she called.

"Good morning, Claire," he beamed, flashing a grandfatherly smile. A smile she had come to distrust.

"What's in there?" she asked pointing to the room he had just left. She tilted the blinds on the door to see a woman about her age. "Who is she?" she asked.

"We don't know," he answered. "Samaritan detected an intruder and saw this young woman and an older gentleman loitering in the hall. The man disappeared and this young lady remained behind. And she has made it clear that she will not cooperate on her own accord."

Claire didn't like how this was looking. Greer was insane and really lacked imagination. There was no telling what he would do to the woman in order to get answers.

"What if I talked to her," she suggested.

Greer turned to her puzzled. "You think she'd talk to you?" he wondered.

Not knowing whether that was an insult to her abilities or a genuine concern, Claire continued.

"She is practically my age," she pointed out. "She may connect better with someone closer to her age. Then I might be able to establish some rapport."

"Perhaps you're right," Greer decided. He put in the lock code and the locks clicked again. Claire turned the handle and walked inside.

XxXxXxX

Clara glanced at the girl that entered her prison. What, did they think she'd betray the Doctor to someone her age?

"Hi," the girl began. She was American. "Sorry about him. He tends to go to extremes to keep this place secret."

"What is this place?" Clara asked.

The girl looked at her confusedly.

"You mean, you don't know?" she asked. At Clara's head shake, she took a deep breath. "Then why are you here?"

"Wrong place, wrong time," she responded. "Happens quite a bit actually. Where am I?"

The girl looked back at the door, then up into the corner. After a moment, she turned back to Clara.

"I suppose you deserve to know," she decided. "I know I'd like to. Have you ever noticed cameras? Like in stores, or movie theaters or on street corners?"

"Of course I have, I'm not blind," Clara answered.

"They aren't either," the girl said.

"Meaning?"

"Well, all the video information they collect, on any person at any time is accessed by an A.I." The girl explained. "The most powerful artificial intelligence with an almost god-like omniscience. It can find the answer to any question. The solution to any problem."

As the girl continued with her description, her countenance brightened.

"And its name is Samaritan," she finished.

"Okay, an Artificial Intelligence in 2015," Clara repeated. "Why hasn't anyone heard about it?"

"I think Samaritan wants to focus on helping humanity first," the girl answered. "It's got programs in place to solve hunger, power corruption, and war. All these problems that humanity made for itself can be solved."

From what the girl said, this Samaritan was similar to the Doctor. Flying around trying to solve problems too big for humanity to fix itself. With one significant difference: the Doctor would never use guns the way these people did. He wouldn't even allow people around him to use gun like this. Still, this girl, whoever she was, might just be her only way out of here. She seemed nice enough.

"What was your name again?" Clara finally asked.

"Claire," she answered. "Claire Mahoney."

"That's funny," Clara smiled. "I'm Clara."

The girl smiled for the first time since she entered the room. She sat down on the end of her bed.

"So, I've told you a little bit about me," Claire said. "What about you?"

"I'm a school teacher. Year eight to Year Ten," she said, careful not to give anything about the Doctor.

"A school teacher? Really?" Claire repeated. "I am too. Well kind of. I provide technical support at some Charter schools."

"Cool, how did you get started on that?" Clara asked.

"It was Samaritan's idea," she replied. "The education system is failing in America. And let's face it Common core is just a short term fix to a long-term problem. Like putting tape over a hole in a dam. Samaritan might not be able to fix the students' financial situations, but it has found a way to help children educate themselves so they can build a better life for themselves when they are older."

"No greater way to change the world than to educate a child," Clara agreed.

"Then why aren't you there now?" Claire asked. "What brought you all the way to America in the middle of the School year?"

"It's just where the Doctor landed," she blurted out before she could stop herself.

"Doctor who?" Claire asked.

"Nothing," Clara blurted out. "Out! Get out, now!" How could she have let her guard down so easily? "You are going to have to try harder if you think I'm going to betray the Doctor for the sake of conversation."

She furiously turned away from Claire, refusing to look at her. She listened as Claire made her way to the door and paused before leaving the room.

Oh, how could she be so careless? She might have given everything away. Might have given them everything they needed to know to find the Doctor. The Doctor was hard to find, but if Claire was telling the truth and Samaritan had eyes everywhere, how long could he hide from them?

XxXxXxX

End Notes: The Machine is a Whovian. Need I say more?