The next day, the Doctor did a lot of stuff on his own—less noticeable if one person was wandering the deck with a strange device than if two were—so I mostly wandered around below deck, waiting for him to turn up and tell me what he'd found. I didn't stay down there very long until after supper.

After a while, I'd somehow found myself in narrower hallways—third class, I was sure—and I didn't know how to get back to where the TARDIS was parked. I found that the hallways were looking more and more alike as I looked for anything that might be familiar.

"Ma'am?"

I jumped.

"Oh, sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to startle you." The man who spoke was a broad-shouldered young man, somewhere between me and the Doctor in height. "Are you lost?"

I didn't say a word, too stunned to say much anyway. I could've sworn I'd seen him before, or someone that looked like him. I was still trying to figure it out when he spoke again.

"My name's Sam," he said, holding out a freckled hand. I shook it, noting that his hand was very calloused and warm.

"Eliza," I replied tentatively.

He smiled and asked again, "Are you lost, Eliza?"

I nodded and couldn't keep from smiling. "If you could take me to the deck, I could find my way from there."

Sam smiled and escorted me to some stairs.

"Thank you, Sam," I said.

He only nodded his reply.

A few minutes later, the Doctor found me sitting on one of the deck chairs.

"There you are!" he cried a little too loudly. A few heads turned in our direction, so he leaned down and gave me a peck on the cheek.

I felt my face heat up. "I hate you," I muttered.

"No you don't," he replied, taking the seat next to mine.

"Did you find anything?" I asked.

"No. It's peculiar just because I usually find something and fix it within a few hours if the TARDIS takes me somewhere." He frowned. "I haven't found a single thing out of place. Shame I never got to investigate before. I was quite occupied. But perhaps the TARDIS got it wrong for once. Come on." He stood. "I'll take you home."

The door to the storeroom was locked. The Doctor tried to open it with the screwdriver, but it did nothing. I tapped on the door, then looked at the lock.

"Wood," I said. "Even the bolt is wood. You still haven't fixed your screwdriver?"

"No," he said irritably. "What's most frustrating is that it'd only take a few minutes."

"Well, why don't you do it now, then?" I asked.

He sighed. "I need the TARDIS."

I looked around at the other doors, and knocked on a couple of them. They were all wood. But the locking mechanisms all seemed to be metal.

"Doc—sorry, I mean Neil, have you tried any of these doors?" I gestured to them.

He looked at the doorknobs dubiously and tried one of the locks. It worked.

The Doctor put his screwdriver away and paced a bit. "It's almost as if…" he started.

I waited for him to finish, but he was taking too long. "Almost as if what?"

He looked at me. "Almost as if… someone knew the TARDIS would park there. But who could have known?"

"Any of your enemies had to assume you'd come here at some point in your lifetime," I said. "Considering it's one of the biggest tragedies of the twentieth century. And you did—three times."

"Well, yes, and I have, but how would anyone know where she'd park herself this time?" He rubbed his hair exasperatedly. "Augh! Who could know?"

I shrugged and leaned on the wall. "That's important and all, but how are we getting home?"

"I'll have to find a way to break the door down. Since it opens outwards, that'll be a problem unless we can find an ax somewhere, or even just a good, sharp knife." He rubbed his face and took a minute to even look at me.

When he did, I said, "You know security wasn't very tight, right?"

He stared blankly at me.

"They had guns and other weapons on the ship. It wasn't like airport security," I said. "We could just ask around for a knife or even a gun."

He nodded. "Right. Any idea where to start?"

I shrugged. "We could start by getting lost. It's how I found someone to help me find the deck earlier."

"Alright," the Doctor said, "let's get lost. Lead the way."

We wandered around, keeping an eye out for anyone who might be able to help. I found myself again in the narrow hallways of third class, and the Doctor stuck close by.

I was turning back to tell the Doctor we might need a new plan when a door opened to my right and someone stepped in front of me—I ran right into his back.

"Oh, sorry," he said, stepping forward and turning around. A grin spread across his tan face. "Eliza. Lost again?" His grin fell a bit when he saw the Doctor behind me.

"Actually, Sam, I'm looking for—" I glanced back at the Doctor before continuing. "We need some help. I left something important in a storeroom upstairs, and no one seems to have a key."

"What sort of help are you looking for?" he asked.

I hesitated. "You don't… happen to know where we can find a gun?"

Sam "borrowed" a gun from under his bunkmate's pillow and the three of us headed back to the storeroom.

"What time is it?" I asked.

Sam whipped out an old pocket watch. "Ten after ten."

"Crap," I muttered, "we're running out of time."

"Excuse me?" Sam said.

I bit my lip. If I remembered right, we only had a few hours. Sam more than likely wasn't going to make it. "Nothing," I said quickly.