CHAPTER FOUR

The past…

The boy looked at the girl, trying to build up the courage to ask her out – his palms were sweaty, even his feet felt sweaty, he could do this.

The girl gazed at the boy, surely he was going to ask her out, she'd sent out all the signals, but he was taking his sweet time.

He'd finally reached the point of no return, he took a deep breath…

She felt her stomach sink, he was going to ask…

They were interrupted, he never again tried to ask and she moved on. History changed and new relationships were formed, and some relationships that should have been – were not.

Now

Time has changed, people have changed and one choice not made became two, then four, a hundred, a thousand. How many choices does a person make everyday and how many other people are affected by those choices, then their choices are changed and more people are affected, exponential variances in the time line.

The world is the same but different, the ripple is minute and the universe infinite, but time is fickle, even the smallest bump must be ironed out.

This I know, as a former time agent and as a sometimes companion to a Timelord, I know that reality has been changed and that means trouble must, by definition, follow.

"Computer, transpose variables on a linear graph and display."

The news was good, and bad. Good that reality was repairing itself, time was realigning to what should be instead of what is. Bad… bad because whatever had initially effected the timeline was long dissipated, you can't fix what you can't find. I know, it sounds pretty low impact – time was almost fixed. Problem is that the old adage is true, it would get a lot worse before it gets better.

Life in Summer Bay was about to get a lot weirder, and I was stuck smack bang in the middle with a broken ship and a deadline, even worse there was almost too many choices for intimate distractions for a man with my eclectic tastes. Between trips to the city for parts, socialising at the local 'pub' and finding myself in a different bed (sometimes two)

every night and trying to track down the problem in the timeline my week is almost up. At precisely 2pm tomorrow my ship will become visible and then the authorities will turn up, and then I will have to go to ground, and then… well I had not thought that far ahead.

Snapping my notepad with all my calculations shut (I know! A notepad, how barbaric but then the ship could not even spare the power for a holo-pad, and it was better to blend in with the locals) I leaned over and kissed the beautiful lady goodbye. The older ones were always more understanding about my quick exits and for some strange reason that sometimes made me want to stick around. Of all the people I had encountered this week she had been the most… amazing, and she also seemed the most unaffected by the bump in the timeline.

I stood back and gazed at her sleeping form and enjoyed the serenity for just a few precious minutes, for all I knew my luck was about to run out and if this was my final happy memory then I could live with that. Like all things time was just not on my side, so I quickly and quietly exited the room and padded down the stairs, just as I reached the door a quiet cough sounded behind me and I spun around.

Noah.

Sitting at the table, looking at me, looking upstairs and then back at me – then shaking his head in what seemed to a disappointing way.

What in the seven rings of Titus Felon IV was he doing here. I had called him of course but he was always busy and then everytime I was in a rush he would turn up, like now. Tempting a morsal though he was sometimes a guy did have to prioritise and getting off this planet during this time in history was a definite priority. Getting caught by the authorities for a bit of admittedly very hot ass just would not be worth it. The paranoia of the people of this time made the isolationist policies of the Icromada Collective look meek.

I ran a hand through my quite messy hair (no decent conditioners for my genetics) and I tried to look both happy to see him but regretful that I had to go, not too much of an act really, "Sorry Noah, things to do you know."

He just snorted, "Is that how you put it – is Irene a 'thing' just to do, to pass the time?"

"She knows the score kid, the were no illusions on her part."

Noah let that one go and I thought I might get out with him only mildly unimpressed, but he had not finished.

"You seem to be building up quite a list, Hayley and Josh, Kirsty – and her sister, yes and then the other sister, Jack Holden – saw that one coming, Kane – did not see that one coming, Hayley and Josh again and now Irene. So am I last on that list or should I regret having given you my number?"

"I don't have time for this," I muttered, perhaps a little too curtly and I winced as I saw the hurt expression on his face, but I still walked out that door – because it was true, I really was out of time.