A/N: I have to admit, I have changed her name about five times now. So if you see a woman's name that doesn't match, no worries, I just missed it when I was editing. Please tell me and I'll fix it.

&&&
She regarded him with large, scared eyes. "Who are you?" she hissed through clenched teeth.

"I'm the Doctor, now hold still and let me see." He unwound his scarf from his neck and piled it behind her head, making a pillow.

"I've got a blooming arrow sticking out of my leg, what more do you need to see?" she responded, trying to twist away from him. Torrents of fresh blood gushed over her already soaked jeans.

He gently pressed on her lower leg, holding it in place, and pressed his right hand against hers, dispelling her weak attempts at escape. "What's your name?" he asked, trying to sound pleasant despite the situation.

"Alannah," she eventually responded, breathlessly.

"Ah, Alannah… that is a good Irish name." He patted her uninjured leg reassuringly. "Well, Alannah, I am afraid I have to ask you to bear more undue pain. May I borrow your belt?"

She eyed him, worried as she watched him loosen his own. He noticed the look, shaking his head. "Oh, no, it's not like that! No, don't worry…" he pulled his out of the loops of his trousers with a flourish, then deftly wrapped it around her thigh in a homemade tourniquet. "Well, maybe worry a little. You are bleeding badly, and it will only get worse when I remove the arrow." He pulled her belt out and laid it aside, then ripped the leg of her jeans, exposing her bloodied skin. "Thankfully, it did not hit your femoral artery."

"How do you know that it didn't?" she asked, fear spreading into her voice again.

"Well, if it had, simply put… you'd already be dead."

She swallowed. "Oh… how comforting."

"These arrows are usually about, oh, 2 feet long?" He measured it with his hand. "There is about twenty inches showing, meaning about four inches are actually in your leg… this might take some time." He held her belt up to her mouth. "Here, bite this. And if it starts to taste good, spit it out and tell me at once." He forced the leather strip between her teeth as her blood soaked hand curled around it reluctantly. He gently removed her hand from the arrow and wrapped it around the other.

He shifted his weight, and, while giving her a hopefully-reassuring smile, lifted her leg and placed her foot against his shoulder. "I'm getting it above your heart," he said in response to the questioning look she gave him. He looked at her sadly. "Now, I am terribly sorry. This is going to hurt like hell. At least they used a hunting arrow and not a broadhead." He grasped it in his left hand, looking into her eyes. "I'll go when you are ready."

She inhaled loudly and held it for a second, then nodded reluctantly, her eyes closed.

A second's pause, then he pulled it firmly. It had to only been a few seconds, but it felt longer to both people involved. A muffled scream issued from between clenched teeth as she struggled, trying to escape the pain. He wrapped his free arm around her leg tighter, holding it as still as he could. Finally, with a sick sucking sound, the metal point came free, much to his relief. Then more thick red blood welled out.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked, tossing the weapon aside and looking at her white face. He reached for some of the cleaner looking rags and stuffed them against her leg. Grabbing her wrist, he forced a shaking hand against them, holding them in place. "I don't think I killed you… yet." He shrugged at her wild-eyed look. "I'm no surgeon. I only did what I could. Now we have to get this to stop bleeding."

He forced her to lay flat while they both applied pressure to the wound. She managed to spit the bite marked belt out of her mouth, making a sour face.

He dug in his pocket with a bloodied hand, then found the paper bag he was looking for. "Jellybaby?"

"Green, please," she gasped.

"Oh, really? My favorite is orange. We should get along swimmingly." He dropped one into her mouth and popped one into his own. Leaving the bag where they both could easily access it, he returned pressure to her leg, which, he noted happily, seemed to be bleeding slightly less.

"So, major crisis diverted… now on to questions."

He held a finger against his lips. "Just relax. Although I am trying to figure out how you arrived here, don't try to talk."

She covered her face with her hand. "Just as well. I don't know how I got here, either."

"Ah." He shifted his weight, trying to get more comfortable. "So a 'rift in the curtain of time' opened up and dropped you several hundred years in the past. Is that it?"

She nodded weakly. "I... I guess so… Is that why you are here, too?"

He shook his head, chuckling. "No, I'm afraid not. I'm a traveler. I got a signal in my ship, and was trying to figure out what it was, when your appearance caused a disturbance in the fabric of space-time."

At that moment a bolt in the door slammed open, the door practically flying off its hinges. Something flew in, tossed from the doorway before it swung shut again. "But wait, couldn't you tell me why we are being held prisoner?" the Doctor yelled in vain, then looked at the bundle itself. "Oh, Alannah, look, I think we are in luck." He gently disentangled himself and walked across the room cautiously. When he opened it he gasped happily at the two pieces of dry bread and some mouldy cheese inside. "Well, indeed! We are definitely fortunate." A second later a skin full of water came flying through, nearly hitting him. Fortunately he caught it before it hit the ground and burst open.

"Jackpot," she said rather tonelessly. He noticed she was on the verge of exhaustion, reclined on the hard ground. He knelt beside her, pouring some water into her thirsty mouth. Leaving the food beside her, he rummaged around purposefully. He placed a sack of grain under her leg carefully, propping it up, then found another for her head, returning his scarf to it's rightful place around his neck. Satisfied with his handiwork, he sat down beside her head, leaning against the wall.

"You've not ate anything." He pointed at their provisions.

"I'm not terribly interested," she responded, voice thick with sleep.

"Aw, come on now. I know it is not great, but it is something. Here, I'll help you." He ripped off a piece of bread and held it to her mouth. "Open wide." She glared at him. "The airplane wants to come in and land!" he burbled, smiling in a possessed way.

"I'm not a ch-" she protested, cut off when he took his first opportunity.

"You need to eat, alright? More than I do. You'll thank me later." She grudgingly consumed what he gave her, and drank more water. When her eyes slid shut, he clapped her face.

"Why won't you just let me sleep?"she pleaded.

"You don't actually want to sleep. That is just the blood loss. Now, stay awake for me, okay?" She grumbled incoherently in response, but managed to fix her eyes on his.

&&&