A/N: I haven't really got much to say about this chapter for once...I just hope you all think this is going somewhere exciting! Ooh, also, I'm in the process of making a Fred/Doctor wallpaper (you know, because I have no life to speak of). Feel free to PM me if you'd like one when it's done!

A big holla to all the reviewers for the last chapter: MayFairy, DancingQueen411, padmay97, EleventhdocAmy, Abigailmaryjanesimpson, Brownbug, chibiwolfgurl, Mrs. 11th, Kellie (thank you so much for your kind comments! I'm glad you're enjoying my stories :D), Shifuni and Bad Dog No Biscuit! I love you lot!

Arriving in the Past

"1754?" Amy repeated following the Doctor and Rory toward the T.A.R.D.I.S wardrobe. "Why has the T.A.R.D.I.S taken us to 1754?"

"I'm not sure she has." The Doctor said, deliberately not answering Amy's question. He turned to his two companions. "Right, why don't you two go in and get changed. Something Georgian. Flamboyant."

"Why do we have to change and he doesn't?" Rory grumbled as he and Amy entered the huge wardrobe.

"Because I never change!" The Doctor called over his shoulder as he strode back down the corridor. As soon as he was out of sight, his light-hearted nature left him. He really wished Amy hadn't brought her up. Fred. The girl with the boy's name. The girl he had let down in the worst way possible.

No. He shook his head as he ran down the steps and toward the console. Now wasn't the time to think of her. There were other things to do, other things to worry about right now. The T.A.R.D.I.S being out of his control was one of them. He hadn't told Amy or Rory, but the force that had brought the T.A.R.D.I.S to 1754 was frighteningly similar to the one that had pulled him and Fred to the transport ship a year and a half ago. Was it really only eighteen months ago? It seemed like so much longer. So much had changed.

He loved having Amy and Rory here; especially the two of them together. Amy had been a bit too...hands on without Rory at the beginning. In more than one sense of the word. Together, they were great; they laughed, ran and fought together. But he missed her. He couldn't deny it anymore. He missed seeing her come down the stairs every morning and wondering what outlandish attire she had on. He missed her relaxed nature, her love of trouble. That's why he hadn't erased her room. Normally, once a companion had gone, he reconfigured the rooms and forced himself to move on but not with hers. With Fred, he had always had the feeling that it wasn't over yet, that there was something more to come.

He snorted. Stupid really, clinging onto hope like this. A sudden shout pulled him from his melancholy thoughts.

"Doctor! What do you think?"

Amy posed with a reluctant Rory at the top of the stairs in their Georgian gear; Amy in a large corseted dress with her hair tied up and Rory in a flamboyant shirt, breeches and long white socks.

The Doctor forced a laugh, willing himself to forget about her for now and focus on keeping these companions safe. "Very nice. You look...dashing, Ponds."

"Oh, this is ridiculous! I look ridiculous!" Rory gestured to his outfit. Amy laughed.

"I still think you're handsome, Mr. Pond." Amy put arms around him and kissed his cheek.

"That's enough of that!" The Doctor beckoned to them. "Come on. We have to see what brought us here."

The three of them stepped outside. They had braced themselves for the bustle of the dirty streets of Georgian London. Instead, they stepped out into a dark, dank room. Amy huffed.

"Doctor! What the hell is this?" She glared around at the room as though it had offended her. The walls, floor and ceiling were all stone and the only light in the room was one flaming torch on the left wall. There was a dark wooden door opposite them but the Doctor was far more interested with a pile of objects in the corner a few feet from the light. He squinted at the pile before rushing over to it, whipping out the sonic and scanning it.

Just as he thought, the screwdriver told him the items were from the 51st century. He picked them up and twirled them in his hands. They were mostly broken pieces of scanners, weapons and teleportation devices. He looked around the room and saw that there were six other piles like the one he was studying. He frowned. Something was very wrong here, he could feel it.

"Doctor, what are they?" Rory asked, coming up behind him.

"Things that don't belong here. They're pieces of technology from the 51st century."

"Doctor!" Amy grumbled. "I'm getting changed out of this bloody thing." She fiddled with the corset in annoyance. "If they're already things here from the future, I'm sure they can handle a pair of jeans." She opened the door into the T.A.R.D.I.S and Rory followed, grateful for the opportunity to be out of his long white socks and frilly shirt.

The Doctor was left alone in the room. He sighed and hoped that they wouldn't take long getting changed, not just because he needed to find what had brought them here, but also because he really didn't want to be alone; he didn't want to let his mind wander. He gazed around the room, desperate for something to distract him. He was about to give up when he spotted something behind the T.A.R.D.I.S, silver and sleek. He edged around the T.A.R.D.I.S and studied it. It was a control panel. He pressed one of the buttons and it whirred to life. He raised his eyebrows. The panel was fully functioning. He looked at each button and realised with a jolt that this panel could, in the right (and very intelligent) hands, be the thing that brought the T.A.R.D.I.S here.

Suddenly, there was a clatter outside the old wooden door opposite him and the Doctor whipped around, alert and ready. The door rattled, as though someone was pulling desperately on the handle on the other side. The door flew open and a figure fell inside. The Doctor raced to the person's side, too concerned and alarmed by the sudden turn of events to notice that feeling in his mind that had been painfully absent for so long. When he reached the figure – who was face down on the floor and gasping, catching their breath back – it hit him.

That tingle, the idea that he was being watched, that feeling that someone knew all of his thoughts was back and he didn't know if he should feel overjoyed or wary as he reached down and turned the figure over. They rolled onto their back and grinned at him.

"Hello, Doctor. Fancy seeing you here."

The Doctor knelt down and opened his eyes wide, trying to reassure himself that this wasn't a dream.

"...Master?"

Oh me, oh my...look who's finally arrived!

What do you think? Please review!