"To get matterials!"
"Fine. Fine. Just…hurry. Please." He ran his hands through his hair, the past months' frustration seeping back to him.
"You do realize you're standing in a time machine?" Canton asked.
"And?" He replied as he moved to sit down on a chair before the console, his voice was edged in terseness.
"Hurry is pointless. You can go whenever and wherever you desire." Canton said.
"Yeah. True enough. I just…I'm not used to having that kind of time." He explained. "And, god, I know you can't help it, but sitting here talking to you is so incredibly strange. I mean, usually the guy I know who looks like you would be trying to manipulate me or kill me. Or I him."
"'m not the man you think I am, though. Perhaps you'd like to get to know me to prove the point."
"Sure, whatever." He said, crossing his arms as he glared at the floor.
"No, really. It won't do to go into some situation with you still believing, albeit subconsciously, that you need to kill me. Go on then. Ask me something."
"Fine. How old are you?"
"I'm thirty seven. Easy, yeah?"
"Whatever." He said, rolling his eyes. "Alright. Where are you from, exactly?"
"I was born in England, but grew up here in the states. My mum was a teacher, and my dad was an accountant."
Sam scoffed. "And how exactly did you come to meet the time traveling alien?"
"Yes, the Doctor. I was serving President Nixon as security when he and his friends stumbled into the oval office. They were about to kill him when he shouted 'River, make her blue again' and his giant blue box appeared in the middle of the floor. Everyone else still wanted to shoot, but I persuaded the president to give him a chance. After that it was all we could do to try to fight the real evil, the Silence."
"Silence?"
"Ugly gray beastly alien creatures. They have mental powers that erase your memory of seeing them, yet leave hypnotic suggestion so that you do whatever they bid without ever realizing it. Anyway, with the help of NASA, he hijacked a broadcast of Niel Armstrong, and finally got the jump on them. I imagine they're all about killed off by now." Stanton recounted.
"So…you were really from the Nixon era?"
"Yes, yes I am."
"What about Watergate?"
"What? Do you mean the building?"
"You don't….wow. Historical continuity…. Ok, forget I said anything."
"Fine by me." Sam looked off to the side, making an incredulous face. Time travel just screws everything up, he realized.
"Well!" The Doctor shouted as he came back up the steps. "I think I've got it!"
"Got what?" Sam asked, rising to meet him.
"The matterials!"
"I don't….all you've got here is junk," Sam said questioningly, picking up a colander-like contraption from a box the Doctor carried.
"Hey! Careful. That's the psychic interface link. We'll be needing that shortly. But, in the meantime, I want you to focus on what we're heading for. I need you to choose a memory of your brother so that the Tardis can hone in on his presence in the near future to take us to him. Can you do that?"
"Yeah, I think I can," Sam replied, swallowing hard as if it would help ease the tightness in his throat.
"Good then. You, go sit down. Canton, come help me with this."
Sam nodded silently, pacing back over to the seat he'd been in before while the Doctor and Canton fussed about banging things and rifling through the boxes of junk he'd brought up with him from wherever the coridoor went.