Head Notes: Back again. Enjoy!

Chapter three

Claire stopped at the door to look back at Clara. The warm smile that had melted her features was gone in an instant. Quickly replaced with a furious cold rage the moment she had slipped and mentioned her friend. Clearly a friend she was very close to and very defensive about. After a moment, she turned the handle and walked out of the room.

Moving to the main control room, she stopped as Greer called her name.

"Did she give you anything?"

"Only that her friend is a doctor," Claire answered. "But that's when she panicked and yelled at me to get out. She didn't even give his name."

"Her friend is a doctor?" Greer repeated, faint worry lines creasing his forehead.

"Is that important?" Claire wondered.

Mr. Greer lifted the blinds on the door and gave Clara a good long look.

"Samaritan is concerned." He began. "It has been spotting a pattern over the past few months, a blue box with a man inside calling himself 'The Doctor.' If Miss Oswald is a friend of the Doctor, then he must be found."

"What will you do?" she wondered.

Greer glanced at her for a moment before turning his attention back to Clara.

"We will have to interrogate her," he said simply.

Claire stifled a groan. If only Greer would realize there was more than one way to get information. Crude tactics and intimidation would only get so far. People were more willing to talk to people who garnered trust. People who became a confidant; someone they could share intimate details with. She imagined Greer went straight to interrogation because it was faster. He wasn't patient enough to try plain old human interaction. But he got results and that was what he cared about. That was why Samaritan put him in charge. Something she'd learned over the past year, Samaritan didn't care what methods were used as long as they produced results. Maybe one day Samaritan would put her in charge and she could change the methods and tactics for more efficient ones. But until then, Greer was the superior.

"Fine," she said with an exaggerated sigh. "With one suggestion. When you are not busy interrogating her, I want to be with her; talking to her."

Greer looked back at Clara as he thought about it.

"Perhaps a wise decision," he agreed. "Though for now I think you should give her time for herself."

"Alright," she said. Suddenly noticing the clock, she realized that she was going to be late for her next job if she didn't leave now. "I need to go to my next shift. See you later."

Greer wished her a good day and watched her leave. As soon as she was out of sight he spoke. To appearances sake, it would seem like he was talking to himself. But the words were intended for his A.I. superior.

"She's starting to ask questions," he said. "Starting to doubt authority. What should be done with her?"

He drew his phone out of his pocket as Samaritan calculated its options. After a moment, his phone beeped.

OBSERVE. TAKE NO ACTION.

"Very well," he breathed, slipping his phone back in his pocket.

XxXxXxX

Root stepped out of the restaurant quickly followed by the Doctor. Honestly, she hadn't known what to expect from him. He was definitely a fighter. He would never be the kind of person to lay down and die. And he had no patience for small talk with his friend in danger. He seemed even less patient with her. She was sure that the only reason he had agreed to work with her was in order to save his friend. As for her, she genuinely enjoyed his company.

He looked to be about Harold's age (though she had no doubt he was much older than she could imagine.) and had the same dress style. A dark slender suit with a vest over his white shirt. But the most obvious things about him were the eyebrows and the thick Scottish accent. The eyebrows themselves were worth mentioning independently. By themselves, they could transform the entire look of his features. Which became really obvious when he'd leaned over the table to threaten her. The Machine was turned off now. Harold had probably switched Her off to avoid discovery. And now, she needed a place to hide the Doctor. Once Samaritan realized who he was and captured him, all their advantage would be lost.

"Your TARDIS can go anywhere? Fit in any place, right?" she clarified.

"Yes," he grumbled. She smiled as the picture of him scowling behind her entered her mind.

"Good. 'Cause I need you to take us to a specific address." She said.

At that, the Doctor growled and swung her around to face him. Root panicked for a moment as his cold, unforgiving eyes glared into hers.

"No. No. No." he growled. "You don't get to order me around. You don't tell me what to do or where to go. I agreed to help you but I never agreed to become a little pawn that you say, 'oh, go over there,' or 'go sacrifice yourself here.' If you want my help you will tell me what is happening."

"None of that will make any difference if we don't get off the street," Root said calmly. "And if we are going to work together we need to find somewhere more private."

She watched his eyes as he contemplated what she said.

"And work on your trust issues," she added.

His nostrils flared at her comment, but he controlled himself.

"Now, your TARDIS?" Root reminded him.

"This way," he said, making a point of leading the way.

He seemed to have an obsession with being in control. Although, since he had at least a few hundred years of experience she supposed that was understandable. They made their way through the crowd and the Doctor took a key out of his breast pocket and unlocked the Tardis.

The Machine had warned her that the TARDIS was bigger on the inside, but the sight of it still overwhelmed her. The dark lighting with orange and blue shades augmented the stairs and bookcases that filled the space. The console in the middle, laden with hundreds of buttons and levers, connected to the ceiling by a tall translucent column with three circular levels, each one slightly larger than the one below it. It was beautiful. The closest humanity would get to any kind of heaven.

"Well, aren't you going to say it?" the Doctor asked.

"Say what?" Root asked.

"That the TARDIS is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside," he boasted with a satisfied grin which faded a moment later. "Let me guess. Your boss told you."

Root replied with a smile of her own. "You're catching on."

"So what is the specific address you want me to take us?" he asked.

Root gave him the address of the safe house and he typed them into the TARDIS and fired it up. He pulled a lever and the TARDIS began groaning and wheezing. She smiled as the column in the middle moved up and down. Taking her phone out of her pocket, she texted Harold to meet her at the safe house. The TARDIS landed with a thud, just as she slipped her phone back in her pocket.

"Are you going to tell me where it is we've landed?" the Doctor asked.

"Like I said, a private place to meet," Root answered, opening the door of the TARDIS. "There's food in the pantry and tea in the cupboard. Help yourself."

XxXxXxX

The Doctor followed Root out of the TARDIS into an apartment room. It was bigger and more open than Clara's room, but had less furnishing. He'd guess that no one formally lived here. The door had a keypad next to it, indicating that it was fitted with an electronic lock.

He'd only known Root for a half hour and already he didn't like her. The smug smile on her face as she revealed private details of his life didn't help. It was obvious she wasn't attached to UNIT so there was no plausible reason for her to know so much about him. But that wasn't even the most unsettling thing about her. The coy smile and the smug look in her eyes hinted that she was hiding something. Something big. Something that might help him save Clara. Yes, he sometimes hid things from people, but it was his job to be mysterious and have all the facts. But she was hiding information that could help him save Clara. If Clara died because he didn't have that information, it would be Root's fault. Plus, there was that text she had sent. The way she did it suggested that she had been trying to hide it from him. Hoping he wouldn't notice. But the old Time Lord noticed almost everything.

She plopped herself down on the sofa and made herself comfortable.

XxXxXxX

End Notes: So, likes? Dislikes? Any suggestions for better writing?