A/N: Hello, I'm back! Remember me? Probably not. Anyway, this is Chapter 4 of The Tenth Muse. Which you can probably tell. Enjoy!

Ancient Greece

Tyler grinned when she finally found the wardrobe. She had been thrown against the walls of a few hallways as the time machine flew – does it even fly? Or materialize, sort of? Focus, Tyler – but in the end had arrived in a gigantic room with multiple levels. She wasn't a girly sort of girl in general, but had to let out a gasp and a quiet little squeal in the face of so many clothes. She could have happily spent a day in here, rushing from one area to another, but from the way the Doctor had described the flight method, she didn't think she had that much time before they landed. She saw a hoodie sweatshirt, and a few rows down a pair of go-go boots stuck out of a bin. Even further along, she saw a corset and a hoop skirt.

"Right, then, looks like back in time is that-a-ways," she said to herself, and set off.

When five minutes had elapsed and she still hadn't come to the end of the 1900s, she broke into a trot. Two minutes later, somewhere in the 1750s, she had set off at a run. Obviously the female user of this system wasn't one for shelving things properly – the go-go boots and hoop skirt were frequently used items, perhaps, that didn't get returned to their proper places and got kept near samples of clothing from Tyler's present day. She finally reached Greece, and came to a halt – but only by tripping over a Roman spear. She grinned. "Bingo."

She reentered the console room with a smile. The Doctor looked up and nodded. "Very nice. Periodically accurate. Altogether adequate."

"You think so? What a glowing review. I'm flattered."

"For an ape."

Tyler looked like she belonged in the Grecian dress. The soft, white material floated about her gently, and the fierce scowl she wore as a customary expression was replaced with a glowing, if temporary, smile. She had pinned her dark hair up in a loose, quick bun near the crown of her head, but a few short strands framed her face. She wore black leather sandals with braided straps tied tightly around her ankles, and from the box she had impulsively grabbed she had removed a silver-colored ring with bending designs of flowers and leaves in intricate miniature that she wore on her thumb. She bounced on her heels anxiously, knowing that outside of the door was ancient Greece.

"All right then! We need to figure out this…Greece revival movement."

"You make it sound like a band."

"Well, I daresay it's a little more than that…"

"Ancient Greece, a little more than a band?"

"No need to get defensive, I'm not saying it's not great and fantastic, for an ape empire."

"For an ape, for an ape. Can you get over yourself and focus? Are the rest of you aliens this pompous?"

They stare at each other briefly, teenager and Time Lord.

She sees what's happening behind his eyes, a thousand combatants in a melee of emotion, steel blue turning black. Quickly, she says "Ancient Greece!"

He nods, jumping back into gear. "Ancient Greece!"

"Can we go see?" she's almost bursting with excitement now, he notes, as he steps forward to hold the door for her.

"Behold, ancient Greece!"

"Oh…"

"What?"

She's quiet, as she steps outside, grey eyes wide, mouth agape. She turns around in a little circle, barely breathing.

"Ancient Greece."

He nods, wondering what, exactly, she's doing.

"Ancient…Greece!" she squeals, and, suddenly, she's exploding into motion. She runs up to him, and jumps up, throwing her arms around his neck. Taken aback, he just stands for a moment, blinking, as stunned as she was only a moment before.

She seems to realize quickly enough what she's doing, and lets go, stepping back quickly. She's blushing now, and looks down at her shoes in an attempt to hide it. She brushes imaginary dirt from her dress, intent upon her task, then clears her throat, looking up.

"Ancient Greece."

He nods, bemused smile on his face. "Can we say something other than ancient Greece now?"

She laughs, and agrees.

They set off through the bustling marketplace, the Doctor walking purposefully ahead, Tyler doing her best to keep up, occasionally skipping or squealing softly.

He loves how excited they always are the first time he takes them somewhere, he loves the expression on their faces and the look in their eyes. With some, the excitement never dies, and those are the ones that become his companions. Like Rose.

All the same, the squealing thing is becoming ridiculously annoying.

She runs over to a stall and begins enthusiastically gushing about a somewhat lackluster brass ring, while the merchant stares at her warily. Not surprising, as she's saying things like "One like this found just last year…"

"Can you calm down? You're being extremely high-pitched."

"What, super special alien hearing can't take it?"

"No."

"Fine."

More walking in silence, and, while he's contemplating the merits of the idea of bringing a person who appears to be almost as strong-willed as him into the TARDIS for what is actually a rather important trip, she's still hung up on the fact that she's actually in ancient Greece. And reminding herself to breathe.

When a suitable awkward silence has settled around them, she, Queen of Unapproachable Prickly Teenagers, realizes that he could potentially not say a word for the rest of this trip. That would be unpleasant.

And as much as she hates to say this, she thinks she might understand where her dad is coming from sometimes.

"So…we're looking for something wrong? Something bad?"

"Yeah."

He offers nothing more. Is that what she's like?

"Something…alien?"

"Maybe, but mostly just something wrong."

"Let's…oh, look!"

She has, in a much less high-pitched way, become almost as excited as she was originally. She grabs his arm and drags him over, to where a man is hawking his wares. A small stand, loaded with woven baskets and wooden containers, pressed up to the side of a building. Despite the fact that his placement is hardly prime, he's drawn quite a crowd, who all seem to be mesmerized.

She watches with rapt attention as the man holds up a tan woven basket, about the size of his fist (which is pretty large – he's a head taller than the tallest man in the crowd) with a black swirling pattern. It doesn't look Greek, she notes, but more…Celtic? But not quite that either. No matter.

The Doctor's checking something on his screwdriver – she's never seen a screwdriver quite like that before, but she suspended her disbelief after she saw a telephone box materialize in her room. And then a chimera showed up. So she's good with it, really.

Something occurs to her that probably should have been evident sooner, but…

"Doctor?"

"Hm?"

"He's speaking Greek, right?"

"Yes."

"I don't speak Greek. I tried, but I can't find a class."

"Yeah, that's the TARDIS, translates inside your head."

"What's so interesting about that screwdriver, anyway? You're just staring at it."

"It's picking up alien readings – things not only out of place but out of time."

"That's us, mate."

"What kind of a scanner would it be if it indicated itself as suspect?"

"Not a good one?"

"No, it's something that's giving off a massive amount of energy in a relatively small size."

"Computer chip small? That'll be impossible."

"No, I'd say smaller than a loaf of bread but larger than a stick of butter."

"And what, lighter than a pound of cheese?"

"Probably. The mass readings are far from definitive. Your planet has wacky gravity."

At the audience's collective gasp, two heads snapped up.

For no discernible reason, the man had a wooden rod stuck inside the basket, which he pushed in until it disappeared. "It collapses!" came the cry from a few cynics, so the man took a thick woolen blanket from the boy standing next to him, and proceeded to stuff it all into the tiny basket. Tyler's eyes widened, and she poked the once-more-occupied Doctor in the arm. He looked up.

And saw the vendor's arm buried in the little basket, halfway past his elbow.

"Does all Greek stuff do that?"

He spoke in a low, quiet tone of voice, saying softly "We are going to walk slowly up to the stand, into the front of the crowd. No pushing, maybe a gentle 'excuse me' if you must. And we are going to follow that man. Act normal."

Directly after his calm pronouncement, the Doctor gasped loudly when the basket rotated to display the Seal of Rassilon woven into the side. If that didn't confirm his suspicions, nothing would.

"What happened to normal, mate?"

"No wonder that was reading as out of time. That's…well, my race made that."

"What, fantastical genius space weavers?"

He looked at her as if she were an idiot – which she felt – and said slowly "Bigger on the inside."

"If 'switch things up' means leave me here to bloody rot instead of flying into Oncoming Storm rage and rescuing promptly, I am not enjoying it."

One blonde woman in the corner of a richly furnished cell, muttering to herself. And two or three people with the bare chests of men, the legs and feet of goats (complete with cute little tails) and high-powered sonic blaster thingies, staring at her intently.

"What are you waiting for? I'm not going to burst into flames or start glowing or whatever!"

This time, things were proceeding according to plan, with the two travelers slowly edging towards the front of the crowd.

Tyler, after accidentally stepping on a snobby-looking man's foot, made it to the display shelf of the stall and pretended to carefully peruse the merchandise.

Tiny basket, little box, great big basket, little wooden lion, acting casually…wait. Her eyes lingered on a rectangular box made of dark wood, embellished with a golden, square design. "It can't be!"

"I left that on the TARDIS!"

The Doctor catches her eye from the far left of the crowd, where he's ended up, and mouths to her "He's almost done. Stay right there and don't let him out of your sight. We'll follow them."

She nods, almost imperceptibly. Well, she thinks imperceptibly.

And turns her attention back to the box. It must just look similar, she decides, opening the cover. But inside, the same two Greek letters are carved carefully in the same exact spot. It's the exact same box. She fingers the inscription carefully. How did it get from her bedroom to here? Or here to her bedroom, she supposes. But how?

The man quiets, and suddenly, she's pressed against that stall, breath knocked out of her. A crush of people has rushed forward, desperate to get their hands on unlimited storage in limited space. Soon, she's jostled back, box clutched tightly in her hands. She can't see a thing, and…

The people in front of her are too tall, she can't find that merchant, and she curses softly under her breath. The crowd is almost violent, and…she catches a glimpse of a beefy leg and left foot. It'll have to do for now. She starts towards it desperately.

She must have picked the right left leg, because she bumps into the Doctor. He pulls her against the wall of the alley, where the loud salesman is conducting an animated but quiet conversation with a shapeless figure.

"What's that in your hand?" the Doctor whispers. "Are you stealing now?"

"No! This is my ring box!"

"What, so you paid for it?"

"No, on my fifth birthday, way in the future, a lady that was at my party – some friend of my parents', maybe – gave me this box, with this ring inside it. This exact box, with the same inscription, and looking brand new. It's in the TARDIS!"

He looks at it closely, then opens the lid and reads the inscription. He lowers it slowly, looking slightly shocked. The inscription is sickly familiar, and he wonders just how awful today is going to get.

Theta Sigma, carved on the inside of the box. And Tyler's box. And the third box, in a larger box of his old things, last he saw it, in the storage area of his living quarters in the Citadel. On Gallifrey. A planet which, if this weren't complicated enough, no longer exists. Anywhere or anywhen.

"This is getting decidedly odd."

She sighed. This was taking an exceedingly long time. "If a certain Time Lord does not show up within the next," she checked her watch "twenty-three minutes…"

One of the guards jabbed the door. "Is the Tyler Rose taking command?"

"Um…no…she's just talking to herself."

"She will be silent until she takes command."

Brilliant. Just brilliant.

Tyler looked at the Doctor, her eyes wide. "What?"

"It's mine, this box. I got it as a present. I used it for various things over the years, eventually it was just forgotten…and it burned on a dead planet."

"Well, rather obviously not!"

"We'll figure it out later, just look, there!"

The two figures had been joined by a third, and they appeared to be finishing their conversation. The third dropped the hands of the two original forms, and said, in a voice much louder than the previous conversation "The end is foretold! The end is near!"

A/N: Ooh, look, a plot. Some things that I haven't mentioned yet but are of some importance to the story - Tyler is meant to be British, as most of the companions are, if you're a person who reads with accents in your head. Also, this story takes place between The Long Game and Father's Day, but a while after they dropped Adam off (I'm assuming more than a week between episodes, as I generally do, so please deal with that). Anyway, what did you think?