(The Firemakers)

Ian Chesterton still didn't know what he was to make of the strange old man in charge of the spacecraft – he didn't trust him quite enough to think of him as their host, but he was no longer sure if ‚captor' was accurate, either – he had helped them earlier, even given an apology of a sorts. In the end Ian had always made a point of cultivating an open, inquiring mind, and this was an inexplicable phenomenon not previously known to man.

Though in the end, the mix of misgivings, curiosity and pragmatic understanding all boiled down together to an understanding that it would be better not to let the stranger out of their sight – He might not have the faintest idea who the stranger was, or where he came from, but anyone with even the most basic powers of of observation could determine that the old man had a habit of wandering off and a tendency to get himself into trouble.

Later, when relations between them would have somewhat improved, Ian would find himself musing that the Doctor's pronounced curiosity showed his relation to his likewise inquisitive granddaughter, but that day was not come yet. The old man was so much more reckless about it.

When Ian followed him through the trees as he was inspecting the forest, ostensibly to take samples and put some observations down in his notebook, it was then mostly to keep an eye on him while Barbara looked after Susan – the old man was the only one who could operate the craft (for some definition of ‚operating it') and without him, Ian an Barbara would be stranded – so they'd better keep track of him.

At first Ian had not really meant to draw the stranger's attention or interrupt whatever he was doing unless he were to start doing something suspicious, but once he noticed what he was doing, his bemusement got the better of him – „Are you trying to start a fire, Doctor?"

At once, the flighty secretive stranger let go of the sticks and leaves he'd been fiddling with, even spreading them about as if to obscure his doing.

„If only I knew why you are being so suspicious of us…" Ian surmised, „What reason is there to hide it?"

„Nothing, really," the Doctor answered, dismissively. „I saw you do it earlier, of course, and I was thinking that it might come in quite handy if we find ourselves beset by cavemen again one of these days…"

Ian decided not to press him, and stepped closer.

„Let me show you how it's done – first, it works better if you look for wood that has completely dried. If you use some that's been too recently removed from the tree, it won't burn properly, and if it does, there's going to be much more smoke…"

After overcoming some reluctance – maybe pride, perhaps distrust, possibly embarassment – the Doctor nodded and began his attempts at replicating Ian's technique. It took him some attempts, but in the end, some of the leaves caught fire.

More than delighted at his newfound power, the old man broke out in mischievous giggles, looking far too pleased with himself.

There was almost something charming to it.

In the meantime, Ian had gathered some rocks to place around the small fire, to keep it from spreading too far.

„You know Doctor, it strikes me as a little curious that you would go on a journey like this without learning some survival skills as preparation. You say that you and Susan hail from some fantastically advanced civilization, but didn't you think to prepare for environments with less technology?"

„I learned to use matches, didn't I? Granted, I may have uner-estimated just how low-tech things can get. There hasn't been any use for firemaking with sticks on my planet for a very long time… but, I suppose, I set out in the TARDIS in order to learn new things. I do believe that one is never finished learning."

The fire, now growing vigorous, filled the small clearing with a subtle cackling noise.

„Say, young man, if you don't mind me asking… how did you come by this skill? Your civilization might be far from producing something like my ship, but you aren't exactly living in caves either."

„Oh, I learned during my time this in the army."

„The army!" repeated the Doctor, saying the word with some disdain.

„Let me guess?", Ian questioned, with a mildly humorous tone: „The people of your world are beyond such ghastly institutions?"

„Not exactly." admitted the Doctor. „We do have one. Though I never did join. I'm not very much the following orders type, as you might have guessed. I prefer the pursuits of the mind and the study of science."

„Me too, actually-" confessed Ian, „That's why I've spent all the days ever since teaching science to children, trying to awaken in them a passion for discovery. It's just that I didn't have much of a choice at the time – I was drafted into the Second World war when our country came under attack. I don't suppose you have any experience with that in your fantastical utopia."

„Not everything about the place we came from was great." said the Doctor, „There was a reason we left. For one thing, I don't think Susan liked any of her previous teachers as much as she did Miss Wright."

At first, it seemed like this was all the answer that Ian was going to get, but then, despite himself, the stranger felt inclined to add something: „I can't say I have experienced anything like your World Wars – I hope I never do."

„So do I, I don't wish that on anybody. However, one doesn't always get a choice." throughtfully, he threw another stick into the fire.

„By the way, Doctor – you wouldn't happen to have something like a sausage or a marshmallow stored away in your ship?"

„What is... a marshmallow?"

„It's something from earth that tastes great when you roast it over a fire. You really need to try it sometime, after you've gotten us home."

When you think about it, Ian & Wilfred are technically from roughly the same generation – I'm sure that if this was pointed out to the Doctor, it would kind of break his brain a little bit – like when you realize that MKL and Anne Frank would be roughly the same age if they hadn't met their respective grisly fates though we tend to associate them with separate ‚eras'. Same time-travel nonlinear wonkyness that would lead someone to meet 200+ year old River before her 7 year old mother, I suppose.