And in this chapter, I give you... the beginnings of a plot! Hooray!

That's all I really wanted to say... I hope you like it!

Spencer was positive he was going to open his eyes and be back at the BAU; victim of an unlikely filing accident, maybe.

And then he actually opened his eyes, and his hopes were crushed.
He was on the gridded floor of the same strange room, with the English man frowning concernedly down at him, holding his head down with a long-fingered hand.

"Don't get up right now, Spencer," he said, interrupting the young doctor's unvoiced words. "I still don't know what's wrong with you."

Spencer frowned. He had a million questions, and then some, but the first thing that came to mind was, "How do you know my name?"

The suited man frowned deeper, and Spencer noticed that he now had on a pair of stylish glasses as he peered down at him. "I know a lot of things," he answered absently. "Now, hold still…." The man then proceeded to take out his glowing-blue-pen-thing once more, buzzing it again at Spencer's face. He flicked it away, reading something off the side. He nodded to himself, seeming satisfied.

Reid, on the other hand, was anything but.

He had never felt so out of his depth, knowledge-wise.

The man then seemed to realize that his patient was still present. "You're not in immediate danger. You can get up now, if you want." He removed his hand and leaned away, sitting back on his haunches, watching Spencer expectantly.

The young FBI agent sat up slowly, never taking his eyes off the strange man. "How did I get here?"

The other man blinked. "Oh. Right. That. I have yet to figure that out, I'm afraid." He frowned to himself. "Second time this has happened, actually. Though, very different circumstances, I suspect. You haven't had anyone bring you coffee every day, have you?"

"What? No, I—I usually get it myself, why—?"

"Oh, nothing. It's not that. It couldn't be, really. Impossible." He nodded to himself with a small frown. "Mostly."

Spencer brought his legs closer to himself, gaping at the eccentric man beside him. "I don't understand what you're talking about."

The other's gaze descended back to the young doctor's. "No, I wouldn't expect you to." He extended a thin hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm the Doctor."

Spencer, against his every instinct, shook the Doctor's hand. "Doctor who?"

The 'Doctor' let out a pleased little laugh, tilting his head slightly. "Just the Doctor."

Reid blinked. "Okay." He knew better than to question someone so clearly lost in their own delusions—at least, this man seemed deluded. Something told him otherwise, but he didn't quite want to listen to that little something at the moment.

"Alright then!" The Doctor sprang to his feet, clapping his hands together and turning around to walk around his console. "You probably have plenty of questions, so we'll try to do them all at once." He spun on his heels, facing Spencer once more. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

Reid quickly got to his feet, still trying to determine the levels of hostility theoretically present in the other individual.

When he said nothing, the Doctor flapped an unconcerned hand. "Go on, then."

Spencer cleared his throat, fiddling with his hands awkwardly. "Where are we?"

"We're in my TARDIS."

"Wha—"

"Time And Relative Dimensions In Space," the suited man said immediately. "Well," he added, lightly scrunching up his face, "we're technically sitting in the middle of London… but we're inside the TARDIS."

Spencer paused for a moment before his eyes widened. "This is a time machine?"

The Doctor made a happy little noise. "You catch on fast. I like you."

Spencer wasn't really listening. "And it travels through space?"

"Among other things, yes," the Doctor said, shrugging.

The FBI agent was lost in his own little world. Something about the man made him believe it unconditionally; this was a real, functioning time machine. He stared at the console, taking in every little knob and lever, filing it away in his mind for later use. The walls, he suspected, were a lot thicker than they seemed; probably in layers, to be able to withstand the conditions of travel. He didn't quite understand how it could pass through time, but he definitely had a few theories that would need discussing.

The Doctor beamed at the young man's unmasked awe and curiosity. It had been a while since he'd had anyone so… interested. It was refreshing.

"And what are you, exactly?" Spencer asked, not looking away from the control panels.

The other man blinked in mild surprise. "I'm sorry?"

The young genius' head snapped up. "Oh, sorry, that may have seemed a little inconsiderate of me… but you're not human, are you?" He tilted his head. Spencer was too mentally occupied to be concerned by how unaffected he was by this new information. The man had called him 'human' earlier, so it wasn't an idea taken out of nowhere, but if he'd been paying closer attention he would have been mildly surprised by how his mind had made such an assumption.

The Doctor leant back on a railing, blowing out a long breath. He'd definitely not been expecting this. It seemed the unassuming young man before him was far more peculiar than he'd originally figured. "No, actually. Timelord."

Reid nodded, silently repeating the word to himself. "And you… what, travel around the universe? What for?" He readied himself for the reply, putting himself into profiler-mode; as innocently intrigued as he seemed, he still didn't quite trust the man whose spaceship he'd suddenly found himself in.

The Doctor paused for answering. "Just… to travel." He seemed lightly bemused by the question.

"But is there a point to your travels, Doctor? Are you an adventurer of some sort?"

"Well, I-I suppose, but…" the timelord stuttered. When had this become an interrogation?

Spencer narrowed his eyes, taking in every minute detail of the Doctor's body language. "How long have you been travelling alone, Doctor?"

The Doctor closed his mouth, eyebrows rising in surprise. "Not long, I just—"

"What are you running from?"

The Doctor stared at him for a long time, and Reid found himself staring back with the same intensity. It was strange, since the younger man usually wasn't too keen on eye contact.

"Alright, Spencer," the Doctor finally said quietly, "I think that's enough for the questions. We need to talk about you, now."

The young FBI agent said nothing, but relaxed his stance slightly. He wasn't aware of how tense he'd become during the impromptu questioning.

"I've determined," the Doctor went on, "that there is something about you, Spencer. Your mind. It's not quite ordinary, is it?"

Spencer didn't answer. He didn't have to.

The Doctor nodded, pacing slightly as he continued. "Now. I don't yet know how you got into my TARDIS, or why, but you're here now, and there must be a reason for it, so let's figure it out!" He stepped almost uncomfortably close to the younger man, expression serious. "This part might feel a little strange. I'm going to need you to close your eyes."

Spencer felt no obligation to comply, and took a small step back. "I, um, don't really think that's necessary…."

"Oh, it's nothing bad, I promise!" Spencer somehow felt that the Doctor's promises weren't exactly the most reliable things. "I'm just going to have a look into your mind. It won't hurt." He frowned. "Probably."

Reid took another step back. "I'm sorry, Doctor, but I don't—"

"Oh, enough of that! I just want to help! You've been having headaches, correct?"

"How did you—"

"It's quite easy to see. I can tell you're squinting, even in the TARDIS' dim lights. In fact, you're having one right now, aren't you?"

Spencer's mouth was a thin line. "Listen, I don't know who you are, or why I'm here, but there are people probably looking for me, and—"

"How bad is it?"

"It feels like there's a giant needle trying to drill its way out through my eyeballs," he admitted. He felt no sense in denying it, what with how insistent the man was being. As if having been summoned by the confession, a dozen small signs of weariness were suddenly made visible, most notably in the tired slump of his shoulders and the dark circles under his eyes.

The Doctor nodded in sympathy. "I can help," he said, gently but firmly.

Spencer hardly dared let himself hope, but his eyes widened nonetheless.

"The—the doctors haven't been able to find anything. I've been to seven hospitals in the state of Virginia alone, and—"

"Oh, my dear Spencer," the Doctor interrupted, grinning cheekily, "you seem to have forgotten; I'm not your ordinary doctor."

After a long examination that left Spencer feeling like more questions had been raised than answered, the Doctor voiced the available options.

"Oh, it could be a number of things… a parasite, a disease, a tumour…." He sounded so nonchalant, it scared Spencer a little. "It could also be a block on your mind. Someone might be hiding your memories. You never know," he said, shrugging. Or… it could also be psychosomatic.

"It's not," Spencer said, scowling.

The Doctor blinked, mouth open. "It's not what?"

"It's not psychosomatic."

The Doctor continued to blink confusedly. "I didn't say it was."

Spencer narrowed his eyes further, annoyed. "Yes, you did."

The timelord's brow scrunched slightly as he replied. "No, I didn't, but I…." His eyes widened. "Oh. Oh." He jumped slightly at some realization, running over to pull a screen from the console towards him. "Okay, I have a theory! But first… Spencer, will you just watch to this recording of a few seconds ago?"

Spencer didn't question the existence of such a recording. The TARDIS was probably always keeping track, after all.

He listened as their past conversation resurfaced.

"Someone might be hiding your memories. You never know."

"It's not."

There was no in between. The Doctor really hadn't said anything about it being psychosomatic.

Reid felt mildly faint. He grabbed a spinning chair behind him and plopped down heavily into it.

"Am I going insane, Doctor?" he asked helplessly, holding his head between shaking hands. He wanted to believe it wasn't true, but there was no hiding it now. He was hearing voices. He didn't know how distressed he was supposed to feel at the moment.

But the Doctor was quick to reply, attempting to quell his worries. "Oh, Spencer, no! Of course not, it's not that at all! I wasn't certain before, but now…." The Doctor cleared his throat. "I don't know if you're going to like this information, Spencer, but you really should know." He seemed at once brimming with excitement and apprehension.

The young doctor looked up, not knowing quite what he was expecting, but wanting it heard.

"Spencer, I don't think your brain is trying to tell you anything at all. I think it's trying to do something."

The young FBI agent tilted his head in inquisition.

"That part about it being psychosomatic… I didn't say it, I thought it."

Reid sucked in a breath, but he didn't tell the Doctor to refrain from saying what he'd already guessed. His wide eyes showed a desire—no, a need—to understand.

"Spencer… I think you can read minds."

Aaaaand there we go! Potential plot material, am I right?

Expect more from the BAU in Quantico next chapter.

Oh, and in case no one understood the whole "has anyone been giving you coffee" thing, it's referring to the whole Donna Noble fiasco with her wedding and all that, when she appeared in the TARDIS for no apparent reason. I hope it's clear!

Please review or ask any questions you want!