A/N: I know, it's been ages, but here's the next chapter! :D

I have decided that the theme song for this story will be 'The Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond' a traditional Scottish song. If you type 'Loch Lomond - piano cover/The Bonnie Banks' into youtube, that is the particular arrangement I had in mind. It's a piano solo - no vocals but still very pretty. :)

Oddly enough, this story has decided to take a change in direction...if it turns out to be terrible...blame Dr Who :P

Guest Reviewer1: Thanks so much for your review! I'm glad you're enjoying it! Yes I most certainly am! Aside from the fact that I will be trying to get as many characters from the series in there as possible - Jess and Becker made their first appearance last chapter :) (Yay!)

Guest Reviewer2: Wow thankyou! Not sure about an Aladdin's Cave - but Black Hole definitely! :P I'm glad you're liking it! Thanks so much for your review! :)

Thank you my reviewers and Mijo54, YouHaveLovelyHair, AGoodOmen, Rubytronix, and AriannaS for following/favouriting. Your support means a lot :)

Enjoy! :)

III. Most Inconvenient Introductions

Miss Jessica Parker had come to realise that she did indeed like the country. In fact, she liked it all very much, especially the colour. Who knew there would be so much colour in the country?! They had been in the carriage now for over two hours and she was beginning to become severely bored. One could only take so much enjoyment out of reading women's magazines over and over again. She had even attempted the children's game 'I Spy' for a total of three seconds before she realised her opponent was not going to be very forthcoming on the matter. "Lester, do you think we will be there soon?" Jess asked, turning away from the countryside that whizzed past, to her guardian.

The carriage chose that exact moment to bounce over a large bump, startling the older man, "How should I know, do I look like one of the bloody drivers to you?" Lester replied testily, straightening his suit, which had seemingly managed to jerk out of place, "Although I am quite sure I could do a better job of driving just at the moment."

Jess frowned disapprovingly, "Lester be nice! Language please!" she chided.

"Nice! Why on earth should I be nice?!" Lester glared at his charge, "Honestly, one would think a man could complain about unsatisfactory service - if he so pleased; without being rebuked by his ward - who I might add is entirely dependent on his kindness."

"And such a kind man you are." Jess smiled sweetly at him and leaned over to bestow a kiss on his cheek. For all his grumpy exterior, James Lester really was quite soft, and she knew he could never resist one of her smiles.

Lester sighed and rolled his eyes, "Alright, alright, no need to butter me up quite so much thank you," he grumbled before opening the window and calling to the driver, "Driver, how long until we arrive at Malonay House?"

"Primvale is about a mile or two away Sir." came the answer, "If you like Sir, we could stop there to let the young lady stretch her legs for a moment. Malonay House is another thirty minute drive from there Sir."

Lester let out another weary sigh and Jess turned her pleading look, blue eyes opening wide. "Please Lester, could we stop? My legs are awfully sore."

"Fine, so be it." Came the dry reply and Jess smiled happily as he passed the command on to the driver. Her first look at the countryside town that was to be her home - she was nothing short of certain that it would be absolutely perfect.

..oOo..

Connor took a deep breath before rapping his knuckles on the door three times. The brass plate that read 'Dr Nicholas Cutter' gleamed in the midday sun, effectively blinding him just as the door opened; leaving him standing there, mouth gaping open like a fish and eyes blinking rapidly.

Obviously not a particularly appealing first impression on the blonde man that opened the front door. "Yes?"

"I...errr...Dr Cutter...Connor Temple." Connor stammered out, continuing on when he saw the older man's blank expression.

"Sorry, never heard of it." Dr Cutter said bluntly.

"No, it's not...it's not a place, it's my name," Connor laughed awkwardly, shifting his stance at the door. Severely beginning to wish he had come up with a better plan. "I was one of your students."

"Oh. Right." the doctor said in his thick Scottish accent, his face giving no indication of recognition or interest in the younger man's revelation. "I don't mean to be rude, but what do you want?"

Connor gulped, now was his moment to shine, "I...erm...you...I...ahem..yes...right," Off to an auspicious start already. Just wonderful. "I wondered if you might be looking for an apprentice?"

"An apprentice?" Cutter said, a smile twitching at his lips as he studied the young man before him, "Now why would I need an apprentice?"

For the second time, Connor was left trying to think of something to say. Unsuccessfully too it seemed. "Errrrrr..." was all that managed to come out of his mouth when he attempted to make a brilliant statment.

"Right, so now that's settled, have a nice day Mr Connor Temple." Cutter said politely, before effectively shutting the door in the younger mans face.

Connor slowly turned around, utterly bemused. "Well...that went well..." he muttered under his breath, before wandering off down the street.

..oOo..

Black boots hit gravel with a satisfying crunch as Captain H. Becker jumped from the coach, nodding his thanks to the driver as he turned to walk down the small country drive. It had been his extreme misfortune that the public coach he had been travelling on (with all his luggage) had lost a wheel. To his good fortune, another passing coach had been able to accommodate him (after all, he had been the only passenger).

However, the new coach had been unable to take his luggage (as IT was almost full), and was also unable to travel the whole way into Primvale (as that was not it's regular route), instead, stopping a mile or two outside the village. So he caught the second coach, told the driver of the first to send his bags on to Primvale once he managed to get the wheel fixed; and from the second coach was dropped several miles outside the village itself to walk the rest of the way. All in all, the entire event had given him a headache.

Becker sighed, the walk would probably do him some good - at least he had no luggage to carry. He had barely got ten paces when he halted and turned back to face the way he had come. He had been informed that there were no other carriages into Primvale (other than the one he had been on); yet he could swear that that was the sound of a carriage he heard. Rapidly approaching too.

And yes, there it was, coming just around the bend. Inwardly, Becker cursed the carriage driver who had assured him that his was the only business to provide service to and from Primvale. Severely aggravated (after all, it had been a not particularly pleasing day), Becker stepped slightly in the line of the carriage. Not so much that he would not be able to easily jump from the road should the driver not stop; but in the way far enough that the driver (if he were a good one) would be forced to halt.

Which (luckily) he did, with a clatter of hooves and a creaking of wood. Instantly, Becker walked around the side of the carriage, and noticed his mistake. The driver was yelling at him, and the man inside was most definitely yelling (after all, he could quite clearly hear the loud 'what the devil' and cursing coming from it) and, there, on the side of the carriage was a definite lack of business paraphernalia. No 'Johnson and Sons' or 'Cartwheel Co.'; no sign at all in fact - only a fair bit of intricate woodwork.

It was then that he realised his mistake, "My deep apologies Sir, I thought this was a public carriage." Becker said hastily, stepping away.

"Thought it was a-" The man inside studied him severely, and Becker suddenly felt as if he were a mouse being scrutinised by a hawk. Not a particularly pleasant feeling at all. Becker carefully kept his face blank and stood to attention. "If I may, what would a soldier of Her Majesty's army be doing wandering around with no luggage?" the man asked suspiciously. Deserters were, after all not all that uncommon.

"It is a long and complicated story Sir, but I am on my way to Primvale." Becker replied easily. He could just make out the faint outline of another person in the carriage, perhaps the man's wife. "Captain Becker at your service Sir. Again, my deepest apologies for halting your carriage."

"Oh never mind. " the man sighed, (rather melodramatically, if Becker was honest with himself), and he could hear the other person inside whisper something. The man sighed once more and rolled his eyes, before turning back to him once more, "The carriage has already stopped, so you might as well join us Captain. If indeed you are headed to Primvale. That is where we are also headed."

Becker nodded respectfully, "Thank you Sir. I will." he replied, and when the man opened the carriage door, he hastily pulled himself in. He was not however, expecting the scent of roses, explosion of colour, and bright, wide blue eyes that met him when he stepped inside; and as such was unable to stop the look of complete surprise that overcame him. When Becker sat down, next to the man, he quickly pulled his emotionless mask back into place. He had only let it slip for a second, but perhaps it had been a second too long as the man beside him had begun to study him intently once more.

"Captain Becker ma'am." Becker said stiffly, "At your service."

However, it was the man beside him that spoke, and not the young woman in front of him, "James Lester, and this is my ward Miss Jessica Parker." he said. So it was his ward - not his wife. She was far to young, and pretty to be such an old crotchety man's wife anyway, Becker found himself thinking.

Miss Parker smiled prettily at him, and for the first time, Becker felt himself melt...just a little (much to his horror). "How do you do." she said, (even her voice was lovely he realised - once more to his horror) as the carriage started up once more, "Are you coming to Primvale on business Captain?"

Becker took a deep breath and looked her in the eye, "No Miss Parker, I came to see to my aunt's affects." he said steadily, "She passed away recently, and as I am her nearest kin, I am sent to handle her affairs."

Miss Parker sent a sympathetic smile his way at that. "My condolences Captain."

Becker merely nodded in reply, "And where are you from then Captain Becker?" Lester asked, drawing his attention away from the woman in front of him.

"London Sir, originally." Becker replied, "I was trained at Sandhurst in the RMC - Royal Military College."

"Oh right, right. Of course." Lester said, apparently considering him. The man really did have a knack of sounding utterly bored with everything, "What regiment do you belong to Captain? If I may ask. It is, after all, a very unusual uniform you wear."

Becker replied automatically, straightening a little in his seat as he did so. "The 95th Rifles Sir."

Lester's eyebrows shot up at that, "The 95th? Really? Well, well." he said, turning to his ward, "Jessica, it looks as if we may have picked up a talented officer of Her Majesty's Army after all."

"Lester!" the young woman gasped, horrified; and Becker couldn't help the small grin the flitted across his features, at her embarrassment.

"What! It is the truth is it not?!" Lester grumbled, "Man's not allowed to speak his mind any more."

Jessica opened her mouth to make some tart reply (no doubt) but suddenly their attention was drawn by the clatter of hooves on cobblestones. They had finally arrived at Primvale. Lester was the first out of the coach, and Becker followed suit thereafter.

Setting foot in a small country town like this one almost did his head in. There were old women gossiping happily, gentlemen greeting each other in a friendly manner; and the occasional child running about in laughter. He was not used to this - this feeling of overwhelming tranquility and peace. It was so different to the sounds and blood and death of the place he came from. And in truth, it made him rather uncomfortable.

Quickly, he turned in order to take Miss Parker's hand as she stepped from the coach, helping her down the small steps. Jessica blushed as soon as his hand made contact with hers, and Becker found himself working very (very) hard at keeping his emotionless mask in place. Her smile was altogether too infectious.

"Please excuse my father's not entirely polite words Captain Becker." Jessica smiled brilliantly at him as they stepped away from the carriage. "He sometimes says things without meaning to.

Lester, from behind the carriage, in discussion with the driver, peered around and glared at them, "What a load of rubbish Jessica! I always mean the things I-"

Becker had to work even harder at holding back the smile that threatened to spill over when Jessica promptly ignored her guardian and started talking once more, "If it is not discourteous of me to ask, where are you staying, whilst here in Primvale?" she asked brightly, "Not alone I hope...I mean, of course you might like being alone. That is entirely your decision...Or maybe you have other family here...a wife perhaps? But you did say you were your aunt's only kin in Primvale...I'm rambling aren't?"

Becker's eyes crinkled a little at the corners when she blushed and faltered, yet he managed to keep a straight face. Barely. "Yes Miss Parker." he said, "I do believe you are."

Jessica frowned, and pursed her lips. "I really don't know why I do that, sorry." she said, still blushing, "Well then Captain Becker. The point is, the offer is open should you wish to take it."

"Thank you Miss Parker." Becker nodded, looking down at the small burst of colour in front of him, "I will consider it."

A/N: Research:

Sandhurst was originally the Royal Military College at Camberly, founded in 1800 as a college for staff officers; from there, it moved to Sandhurst in 1812 and used as a college to train gentleman cadets of the line.

If anyone thought the '95th Rifles' was a regiment that sounded familiar...it would be because it was made famous by 'Sharpe' the hero and protagonist of the series of the same name by Bernard Cornwell (played by Sean Bean in the tv series *drool*). I decided Becker would be a part of that particular regiment for a number of reasons. The most important being that...Becker doth not wear RED (the colour of the coats worn by British soldiers in this period)! He weareth BLACK! (with a little dark green :P). Yep that's right. The 95th Rifles were famous for the distinguishing colour of their uniforms - a dark green and black. Also, for my second reason, the rifleman were treated differently than in the regular infantry - with more equality. As sharpshooters and skirmishers (sent in pairs ahead of the main army) they had to think on their feet - not a usual practice for the British Army at the time (the army had a whole 'no-skill-but-lots-of-bullets-in-the-same-spot-will-definitely-kill-you' attitude to the training of their infantry). Finally, to put the cherry on the equality cake, Officers of the 95th would dine with their soldiers *le gasp!* to become familiar with every man in their company. Now doesn't all that skill, colour, and compassion just scream Becker to you? ;)

LOVE HISTORY