Head notes: I apologize for not posting anything yesterday. I was extremely busy. Also, I don't know if I will be able to post anything the next few days since I am traveling out of town and I am not sure if there will be WiFi. But I made a goal when I started this story that I would have it finished before season 5 started and I am almost there. But for now, here is chapter four. Thank you and enjoy!

Chapter Four

Harold made his way to the safe house as quickly as he could. The cryptic text Ms. Groves had sent him stressed the need for haste. Curiously, it also instructed him to bring the Machine. He hadn't heard anything from her since they first turned it on earlier. She hadn't even told him who the Machine had seen. She had simply instructed him to keep the Machine running and he had for as long as he felt comfortable. After thirty minutes, he became worried that Samaritan would notice and had switched it off.

He didn't know what trick Ms. Groves had up her sleeves, but he hoped it would prove more efficient than their previous attempts. He pulled up next to the safe house and grabbed the briefcase before stiffly easing his way out of the car.

XxXxXxX

The Doctor stirred in the twelfth teaspoon of sugar in his tea and walked back into the front room. Root had taken to entertaining herself with her phone and glanced up at him as he walked back into the room.

"Enjoying the tea?" she asked, making small talk.

"I've had better," he snapped. How he hated small talk. "So are you going to introduce me to that amazing boss of yours?" he asked.

"Eventually," Root assured. "She prefers it when we take things slow."

"We don't have time to take things slow," he insisted. "My friend is still in danger and her chances are dropping every second we waste talking."

"Believe me, my boss wants to save her just as much as you do," Root insisted.

"Then what are we waiting for?" He demanded. "Why are we sitting here talking?"

This time he didn't wait for an answer.

"Forget it," he said, standing up and making his way for the door. "If all you are going to do is sit around, I will rescue her myself."

"Doctor, no," Root said, panic rising in her eyes. She cut in front of the Doctor, with her back to the door. "They will kill you before you even have a chance. And you won't do Clara any good if you are dead."

"It's better than doing nothing," he said, pushing her aside and taking out the sonic screwdriver.

"Just give me time," Root insisted, cutting in front of him again.

"How much time?" he growled. "How much of Clara's time do you want me to waste?"

"Two minutes," she replied.

Just as she answered the locks on the door beeped and the code was put in. The door opened to reveal a short man in glasses carrying a briefcase. He froze in mid-step when he met the Doctor's eye. For a moment, the man looked trapped as he took him in.

"Relax, Harold," Root said, the coy smile back on her face. "He's here to help."

The man, Harold, looked back at him. After a moment, his eyes scanned the room and fell onto the TARDIS.

"How did that box get in here?" he puzzled.

"Gee, I wonder," the Doctor began sarcastically. "Maybe we smuggled it in through the door that's too small for anything wider than a man. Maybe we folded it up and squeezed it inside."

The man took in his answer with a confused and puzzled look on his face.

"Boys, play nice," Root reprimanded them as if they were children. "Harold, this is the Doctor and there's quite a bit you should know about him."

"You know what, I find it easier just to do this," the Doctor said, moving to the TARDIS.

"This is my time machine," He said, throwing the doors open and letting Harold come and take a look. "It also travels in space. I can go anywhere, anytime, take a quick tour of the Herculeous Galaxy and be back in time for tea."

"Oh my," His eyes widened as he took in the immense size of the room. He stepped inside looking around the console room like a boy in a candy store. "How in the world is this possible?" he wondered, stepping outside to double-check the size of the outside.

"It's not possible in your world," the Doctor answered.

"My world?" Harold repeated. So he didn't know about him. Why did only Root know? Was he kept out of the loop as well?

"Dimensional engineering is never achieved on Earth. You lot manage to invent vortex manipulators and space ships larger than an ocean liner, so you can travel through time and space. But a feat like this is never accomplished by humanity."

Harold stepped inside the TARDIS again, setting his briefcase down, before giving himself a more in-depth tour of the console room. He moved around the room, taking in every little detail with fascinated glee.

"Oh my goodness," he breathed as he stopped in front of the bookshelves. Taking a book, he turned to face the Doctor.

"This is a first draft, first edition copy of Chekhov's first published story," he said stunned, holding it up for the Doctor to see. "I've been looking everywhere for this. How did you find this?"

"Easy," the Doctor said. "I went back in time, bought a copy. I even got him to sign it for me."

"No way," he breathed, flipping to the front page. Pure excitement exploded in Harold's face as he beheld the words penned by the author's own hand.

Despite himself, the doctor couldn't help but smile at Harold's expression. The man was definitely cultured with a good taste in literature and style. He also gave off an unassuming impression. In fact, if the Doctor hadn't noticed the briefcase or the lock on it, it would have been very easy to underestimate him. He also gave off the impression that he was used to keeping secrets from others. But in a way that was different from Root. In fact, he had the exact opposite effect Root did. The Doctor had a feeling that he and Harold would get along just fine.

"Alright Harold," Root called. "It's time to talk."

Harold gave one last look at the book before shelving it and exited the TARDIS.

"So, if you're an extraterrestrial time traveler," Harold began. "What are you doing here?"

"My friend was captured," he answered. "She," he continued indicating Root. "Has yet to tell me exactly what we are going to do."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"She offered to help me rescue my friend if I help you lot," the Doctor explained.

It took a moment for the Doctor to realize that Harold was no longer next to him and he looked back. Harold was looking at Root as if she had betrayed some grand promise. An expression that bordered between disappointment and disbelief.

"Ms. Groves," Harold called, his voice slightly higher than it had been. "May I speak with you in private?"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked. "The Doctor here isn't a fan of secrets."

"Kitchen, now," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "If you'll excuse us." He pardoned.

XxXxXxX

Harold stepped into the kitchen, waiting for Root to follow. How could she be so reckless? So careless? To gamble an innocent woman's life for the sake of an advantage.

"What's got your kite string in a knot?" Root asked.

"Ms. Groves," he said, lowering his voice in case the Doctor was listening in. "What on Earth are you thinking?"

"That we have an alliance with possibly the most powerful man in the universe," she answered honestly.

"An alliance that doesn't have to be based on dangling a carrot," he reprimanded. "Where is his friend?"

"They accidentally got themselves on Samaritan's radar and he was forced to leave her behind," Root explained.

"Samaritan?" Harold repeated. "That's who has his friend? Ms. Groves, you know how unsure that possibility is. There is no way we can guarantee that we can save her. And this man, the Doctor has no obligation to step in just because we are short-handed. We can't put an innocent man in danger for the sake of an advantage."

"Look with or without us, he is going to try to save his friend," Root reasoned. "And the Doctor and I agreed that we both stand a better chance of succeeding in our goals if we worked together."

Harold always found it irritating that Root could find an answer to every argument he posed. It always felt like she could get anyone to agree to anything.

"And if it makes you feel better," Root continued. "The Machine says our chances improve with his help."

"Fine," Harold reluctantly agreed. "But we can never tell him about the Machine."

"Is that a good idea? Keeping him in the dark?" Root wondered.

XxXxXxX

The Doctor watched as Harold and Root walked into the kitchen. Stupid, primitive pudding-brains! They asked for his help. How was he supposed to do that if they kept things from him? No matter. He could find information on his own.

The briefcase Harold brought with him obviously contained something important. Easy enough to deduce by the lock on it. He looked to the kitchen to make sure they weren't coming back, but they were too engrossed by their discussion.

Taking out the sonic screwdriver, he approached the briefcase leaning against the TARDIS and knelt down. He tripped the lock easily. Well, relatively easily considering that it was protected by the most advanced defense for this age. He carefully opened the briefcase, letting the half closest to him rest on the floor.

"Ohh, ohh," he sighed, taking in the sight that met his eyes.

He didn't know what it was yet but it was brilliant. Thirty-eight state of the art storage ram chips. The latest available storage technology going by the year. They were storing something huge. After a moment studying the architecture, he flipped the sonic screwdriver open and scanned it.

The ram chips were storing some kind of code. Computer code that went well beyond twenty-first century Google. It was so advanced he was tempted to assume it was alien technology. But no, it was human made. Impressive work for a human, especially in this age of primitive technology. But it was still too hard to see exactly what it was.

Whatever it was, it couldn't be turned on without a connection to an external source like a computer. He'd have to wait until he had access to one before he could work out what it was.

Closing the briefcase, he locked it back up and put leaned it back against the TARDIS. Clearly whatever that code contained, it was a big part of Root's plan. If he wanted to save Clara, he had to figure out what was in that code and what it was for.

XxXxXxXxX

End Notes: So what do you think? Do I have the characters down alright? Is the story flowing okay so far?