It took next to no time before Dean and the Doctor moved their discussion out to the TARDIS. Dean didn't have any concrete proof that anything odd was up with the new neighbors, but the Doctor had learned to trust Dean's instincts.

More than that, the Doctor had learned to trust the TARDIS to take him where he needed to go, especially lately, especially when he still sometimes felt the call of exactly what he was trying to outrun. He had so much more left that he could do. He wasn't ready to go.

He shook those thoughts off and watched instead as Dean grinned around the TARDIS, running his hands along the railings with the same reverent energy that the Doctor knew he sometimes did. The Doctor couldn't explain in any language the connection that the TARDIS forged between itself and anyone who had flown her, but it never went away, and it always felt deeper and more profound than the mild telepathic bond the Doctor had learned about in school on Gallifrey.

The TARDIS chimed, and Dean grinned. "Missed you too," he said.

The Doctor smiled and looked down at the control panel. He hadn't seen Dean grinning, not even around his new family, until that moment. And he wasn't about to point that out. Not yet, anyway.

No, instead, he tucked that knowledge away and put it aside to use later when he asked Dean to travel with him, to help him outrun destiny in a way he knew Dean would be all-too-familiar with. Because Dean loved to run; it was painted all over his face.

"Alright, let's see what we've got," the Doctor said, sliding into place by the scanner as the TARDIS hummed and dinged and got to work.

"Must have been something big for you to come," Dean said as he stood on the other side of the console, looking around to see if the TARDIS would point him in a direction he could help. And when the TARDIS lit up a few buttons, Dean grinned and set to work.

Between the two of them, then, it took no time at all before the TARDIS had its results displayed on the monitor, and the Doctor found himself pulling his glasses out of his pocket to peer at them, his mouth slightly open and scrunched up at the corner. "Well, that definitely doesn't belong on Earth," he said, turning the monitor to show Dean what the TARDIS had found. The image of Dean's neighbor's house was absolutely alight with energy signatures, the biggest of which came from underneath the house. "Looks like someone found a place to park their spaceship."

"They did do some gardening renovations when they moved in," Dean said, his frown pressing lines into his forehead as he looked over the readout. "What's the big signature in the kitchen?" he asked, tapping a spot in the center of the house.

"Not sure," the Doctor admitted. "It's drawing its energy from the underground ship, though."

"Then it's probably not good," Dean surmised.

"Not necessarily. Could be they're just trying to blend in," the Doctor pointed out, frowning. He'd forgotten how quickly the Winchesters could jump to trying to solve the problem by identifying an enemy.

"If that's what's happening, what happened to the people who used to live there?" Dean pointed out. "Something's going on. Plus, I doubt the TARDIS would bring you here just to say 'hey, some aliens are living here'." He patted the console affectionately. "Right? You wouldn't be overly dramatic, would you?" he asked.

The TARDIS dinged, and the Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Anyway," he said pointedly, "let's investigate before we jump to conclusions."

"Was always gonna do that, Doc." Dean crossed his arms and leaned with one hip against the console holding most of his body weight. "What's on your mind?"

"I'm fine," the Doctor said, waving a hand dismissively as he read over the readouts one more time, frowning. He recognized this energy signature, but he was having a hard time placing it. Too many lives, too many adventures stuck in his head.

"You sure?" Dean asked.

The Doctor held up a hand and lightly shook his head, taking his glasses off and turning them in his hands to give himself something to do as he searched his memories. There was something there…

"Androgum!" The Doctor snapped his fingers and broke into a grin as he finally put it together. "Of course. That's why it looked so familiar."

"Gesundheit," Dean said dryly. "You want to explain for those of us that don't speak Klingon?"

The Doctor grinned at that and pointed at the readouts. "I ran into some Androgums a long time ago. They were working with the Sontarans."

"Okay, them I know," Dean said, standing up a little straighter with information he could work with.

"I don't see anything that indicates the Sontarans are working with this group, though," the Doctor said. "Looks like they just came here looking for something to eat. Probably took a space hopper looking for a new cuisine."

"Why do I get the feeling that's bad news?" Dean said with one eyebrow raised.

The Doctor sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Well," he said slowly, "they're not picky eaters. They'll hunt and kill pretty much anything—including intelligent species." He tucked his glasses into his pocket, his eyes narrowed. "Almost lost Jamie that way," he said, almost under his breath.

"McCrimmon?" Dean raised both eyebrows. "That would not have been a good way to go, speaking as someone who regularly gets nearly-eaten."

The Doctor chuckled at that. "I suppose it's an occupational hazard for you, huh?"

"Used to be, anyway."

"Right." The Doctor took a deep breath and let it out again. "Best thing we can do is outwit them or redirect them, get them off-planet. Even if they're not hunting people at the moment, we can't guarantee that they won't get there eventually."

"And they were working with the Sontarans?" Dean asked, frowning. "You sure they're not still teamed up? I met one of those a few years back…"

"It's worth looking into," the Doctor said, both eyebrows raised. But then, spoilers… he couldn't remember meeting any Sontarans with Dean, so that must have been a different Doctor.

"But they're definitely not safe to have anywhere near Lisa and Ben."

"You could probably work with them, but you can't trust them," the Doctor agreed. "And don't, under any circumstances, go to anything they invite you to involving food."

Dean pulled a face. "Right. Makes sense. Glad we canceled dinner, then."

"No kidding." The Doctor straightened up, and this time, he let himself fall into a mischievous grin. "So, Dean," he said, gesturing toward the TARDIS door, "shall we see what's on the menu?"