Ah, the story of Smorrow. :) I dunno, can one of my shipping experts come up with something better?

Oh, well. As it suggests, the story of John Smith and Alicia Morrow. :) Enjoy "Human Nature!"

***

John blinked his eyes open, slowly trying to remember what had been happening in his dream. There had been -

There was a knock on the door, and John sat up. "Come in!" he called.

Martha entered, carrying a breakfast tray, then quickly turned her back. "Pardon me, Mr. Smith, you're not dressed yet. I can come back later - "

"No, it's all right, it's all right," John put on a dressing gown, gesturing for her to continue. "Put it down. I was, er . . . sorry. Sometimes, I have these extraordinary dreams."

"What about, sir?" Martha asked as she opened the curtains.

"I dream I'm this adventurer," John answered. "This daredevil, a madman. The Doctor, I'm called. And last night, I dreamt that you were there, as my companion."

"A teacher and a housemaid, sir?" Martha laughed. "That's impossible."

"No, there was someone else," John frowned, trying to remember. "Hazy . . . possibly Miss Morrow?" He shook his head. "But I am a man from another world."

"Well, it can't be true, because there's no such thing," Martha shook her head as well.

"These things," John picked up the two fob watches on the mantle, then put them back. "Ah, it's funny how dreams slip away," he sighed. "But I do remember one thing: it all took place in the future. In the Year of Our Lord, 2007."

"I can prove that wrong for you, sir," Martha picked up a newspaper. "Here's the morning paper. It's Monday, November 10th, 1913, and you're completely human, sir. As human as they come."

"Mmm," John nodded. "That's me. Completely human."

***

"Morning, sir!" Martha smiled at John as he passed by later.

"Yes, hi," John nodded absently as he headed up the stairs.

"Head in the clouds, that one," Jenny observed as she and Martha returned to scrubbing the floor clean. "Don't know why you're so sweet on him."

"He's just kind to me, that's all," Martha shrugged. "Not everyone's that considerate, with me being . . . " She pointed to her face.

"A Londoner?" Jenny grinned.

"Exactly!" Martha laughed. "Good old London town!"

Her smile faded when two of the boys, Jeremy Baines and his friend Hutchinson, stopped. "Er, now, then, you two, you're not paid to have fun, are you?" Baines asked. "Put a little backbone into it!"

"Yes, sir," Jenny bowed her head. "Sorry, sir."

"You, there," Hutchinson pointed to Martha. "What's your name again?"

"Martha, sir," Martha looked up. "Martha Jones."

"Tell me, then, Jones," Hutchinson leered, unaware of the blonde woman approaching from the other end. "With hands like those, how can you tell when something's clean?"

Their laughter was cut short when an icy voice spoke from behind them. "Please, tell me the joke behind that, Mr. Hutchinson."

"Er . . . " Hutchinson's eyes widened as he turned to face Alicia, the librarian's arms folded, one eyebrow raised. "Miss - "

"Fortunately for you, Mr. Hutchinson, new books arrived just the other day," she smiled sweetly. "Would you be a dear and help a young woman sort them?" Hutchinson's mouth opened and closed like a fish, Martha and Jenny watching with small smiles, before he headed up the stairs. "Go on, Baines," Alicia shooed Baines off. "You won't miss him."

"Thank you, miss," Jenny smiled at her.

"Not to worry, Jenny," Alicia waved a hand, heading up the stairs. "Sometimes, boys can just be bozos."

Martha's head shot up. "What was that, ma'am?" she asked.

"Boys can just be idiots," Alicia frowned. "Did I say something?"

Martha swallowed. "No," she shook her head. "Sorry, ma'am."

Alicia followed Hutchinson up the stairs, then grabbed his arm and dragged him off. "Oh, what the world could do with women like Miss Morrow," Jenny sighed in admiration. "Just think, though. In a few years time, boys like that'll be running the country."

"1913," Martha recalled the year. "They might not."

***

John was carrying a large stack of books when a bright voice in front of him said, "Oh, good morning, Mr. Smith!"

Startled, John dropped the books, and sighed. "There we go," he bent down to pick them up.

"Let me help you," Joan bent to help as well.

"No, no, I've got it, no," John shook his head. "Er . . . how best to retrieve? Tell you what. If you could take these . . . "

Joan accepted his remaining stack, and John stacked the fallen ones. "Good," she smiled.

"No harm done," John agreed. "So, er, how was Jenkins?"

"Oh, just a cold," Joan shook her head. "Nothing serious. I think he's missing his mother more than anything."

"Oh, we can't have that."

"He received a letter this morning, so he's a lot more chipper." She looked down at her arms. "I appear to be holding your books."

"Yes, so you are," John tried to figure out the best way to take them. "Sorry, sorry. Just let me - "

"No, why don't I take half?" Joan suggested.

"Ah, brilliant idea," John nodded, giving her a few more books. "Brilliant. Perfect! Division of labor."

"We make quite a team," Joan smiled.

"Don't we just."

"So, these books," Joan looked at them. "These wouldn't happen to be heading in Miss Morrow's direction, would they?"

"Yes," John nodded. "This way." They headed down the corridor to the library. "I always say, Matron, give the boys a good head of steam, they'll soon wear themselves out."

Joan looked at him. "Truth be told, when it's just you and me, I'd much rather you call me Nurse Redfern. Matron sounds rather . . . well, matronly."

"Ah," John nodded. "Nurse Redfern it is, then."

"Though," she considered him, "we've known each other all of two months, you could even say Joan."

"Joan?" John blinked.

"That's my name."

"Well . . . obviously."

"And it's John, isn't it?"

"Yes. Yes, it is, yes."

Joan took a moment to consider the bulletin board at the top of the stairs. "Have you seen this, John?" she asked. "The annual dance at the village hall tomorrow. It's nothing formal, but rather fun by all accounts. Do you think you'll go?"

"I hadn't thought about it," John admitted.

"It's been ages since I've been to a dance," Joan sighed, turning to look at him. "Only no one's asked me."

"Well," John sputtered, backing away slightly. "I should imagine that you'd be, er . . . I mean, I never thought you'd be one for . . . I mean, there's no reason why you shouldn't - if you do, you may not . . . I probably won't, but even if I did, then I couldn't . . . I mean, I wouldn't want to - "

"The stairs," Joan realized, looking behind him.

"What about the stairs?" he blinked.

"They're right behind you!"

"John, look out!" Alicia shouted as she ran from the other corridor.

Unfortunately, that only startled him more, and he fell backwards down the stairs, paper flying everywhere. Alicia groaned, shaking her head. "You bozo."

"I'm sorry?" Joan blinked at her.

"Idiot," Alicia looked at her. "I said idiot. Didn't I?"

***

"Stop it," Joan smacked John's shoulder as he flinched, she tending to his head where he'd hit it. "I get boys causing less fuss than this."

"Because it hurts!" John whined.

Martha charged in, eyes wide. "Is he all right?" she demanded.

"Excuse me, Martha, it's hardly good form to enter a master's study without knocking," Joan frowned at her.

"Sorry," Martha huffed, backing up. "Right. Yeah." She rapped on the door, then came back in. "But is he all right? They said you fell down the stairs, sir. Miss Morrow seemed quite concerned."

"No," John shook his head, although he looked slightly pleased that Alicia was showing concern. "It was just a tumble, that's all."

"Have you checked for concussion?" Martha asked Joan.

"I have," Joan frowned. "And I daresay I know a lot more about it than you."

"Matron," Alicia's voice said warningly as she entered, holding a leather-bound book in her hand. "Martha is concerned for someone who helped her get a job. Show some kindness in that regard, will you?"

"Understood," Joan bit her lip, not wanting to argue with the librarian.

"I got your books checked in," Alicia sat on the chair next to John's. "You can start checking out new ones again. And you'll be happy to know none of them were destroyed by that fall of yours."

"It was a tumble," he corrected.

"That was a fall," she countered.

"Tumble."

"Fall."

"Tumble!"

"Fall!"

"I'll take my leave," Joan cleared her throat, leaving so quickly she left her bag.

"And I'll just tidy your things," Martha told John.

"If you would not mind, Alicia," John cleared his throat, turning to her, "I would like to confide in you."

"Did you steal one of my books?" she raised an eyebrow.

"No," he chuckled. "I would never dare risk your wrath. No, I wanted to tell you about dreams."

"Dreams, John?" Alicia tilted her head. "Curious topic of choice."

"But these are quite remarkable tales," John assured her. "I keep imagining that I'm someone else, and that I'm hiding."

"Hiding?" Alicia repeated, fingering her own leather-bound book. Was it possible that they were sharing similar dreams? "In what way?"

"They're almost every night," John recalled. "This is going to sound silly."

"Not silly," Alicia shook her head. "Not if they are similar to mine in any form."

John stared at her. "You have similar ones?"

"Tell me more, and I will tell you," Alicia promised.

John grinned. "I dream, quite often, that I have two hearts."

"Hmm. Well, since the Matron was kind enough to leave her bag . . . " She found Joan's stethoscope and listened to John's chest. "Just one heart," she assured him. "Singular."

"I have, er," John fidgeted. "I have written down some of these dreams in the form of fiction. Not that it would be of any interest - "

"I'd be very interested," Alicia sat back down. "Shall we trade?" she offered her own journal. "If we have the same dreams, we could compare notes."

"Well, I've . . . never actually shown it to anyone before."

"Neither have I."

John took out his handwritten book and handed it to her, taking her own. "A Journal of Impossible Things," Alicia read the inside cover, and her eyes widened when she saw the drawings inside. "These creatures!"

"Your descriptions!" John stared at her neat writing. There were very few pictures, only a sketch here and there, but he could read her writing clearly. "These match exactly what I have seen!"

"And yours!" Alicia stared at him. "How can we be having the same dreams?"

"It's become quite a hobby," John shrugged. "The 42 minutes, this school . . . "

"John?" Alicia asked in a small voice, looking at one page.

"Yes?" he looked over, then realized what she had seen. "Oh," he said quietly. "Yes, I had forgotten. Your sister has been in many of my dreams. Seems to disappear later on."

"Rose," Alicia whispered sadly.

"You've got the box, too," John found one of her few drawings. "The blue box. It's always there."

"Like a magic carpet?" Alicia asked.

"Yes," he nodded. "This funny little box that transports me to faraway places."

"Us," Alicia corrected. "Have you not seen me in your dreams?"

John flipped the page, and he stared at lifelike sketches of different women. "I believe I have," he said slowly. "The Alchemist."

"That's me," she confirmed. "And you are the Doctor."

The Doctor nodded to himself, then sighed. "I sometimes think how magical life would be if stories like this were true."

"If only," Alicia nodded.

"They're just dreams."

***

"Ooo, it's freezing out here," Martha shivered, bringing two pints to the outside table. "Why can't we have a drink inside the pub?"

"Now, don't be ridiculous," Jenny admonished. "You do get these notions! It's all very well, those suffragettes, but that's London. That's miles away."

"But don't you just want to scream sometimes, having to bow and scrape and behave?" Martha asked. "Don't you just want to tell them?"

"I don't know," Jenny shrugged. "Things must be different in your country."

"Yeah, well, they are," Martha could cringe at just how different it was. "Thank God I'm not staying."

"You keep saying that."

"Just you wait," she grinned. "One more month, an I'm as free as the wind. I wish you could come with me, Jenny. You'd love it."

Where are you going to go?"

"Anywhere. Just look up there," Martha looked up at the stars in the sky. "Imagine you could go all the way out to the stars."

"You don't half say mad things," Jenny shook her head.

"That's where I'm going. Into the sky, all the way out - " She broke off, seeing a flash. "Did you see that?

"See what?" Jenny looked up, trying to see.

"Did you see it, though?" Martha stood up. "Right up there, just for a second."

"Martha, there's nothing there."

Joan ran out of the woods, eyes wide. "Matron, are you all right?" Martha asked in concern.

"Did you see that?" Joan pointed back into the woods. "There was something in the woods! This light!"

"Anything wrong, ladies?" John asked, stepping out of the pub, Alicia with him. "Far too cold to be standing around in the dark, don't you - "

"There, there!" Joan pointed up, a streak of light shooting across the sky. "Look in the sky!"

"Oh, that's beautiful!" Jenny gushed.

"All gone," John shook his head. "Commonly known as meteorite. It's just rocks falling to the ground, that's all."

"It came down in the woods," Joan looked.

"They always look close," Alicia shook her head. "They're actually miles off. Nothing left but a cinder."

"I should escort you back to the school," John told Alicia, looking at the others. "Ladies?"

"No, we're fine, thanks," Martha gestured to Jenny.

"Then I shall bid you goodnight," John nodded, offering his arm to Alicia. She took it, and the two of them walked off, Joan walking after them.

"Jenny, where was that?" Martha turned. "On the horizon, where the light was headed?"

"That's by Cooper's Field," Jenny answered, and Martha bolted. "You can't just run off! It's dark! You'll break a leg!"

When they arrived at the field, there was nothing there. "There you are," Jenny folded her arms. "Nothing there. I told you so."

"And that's Cooper's Field?" Martha looked across the lawn.

"As far as the eye can see, and no falling star," Jenny confirmed. "Now, come on. I'm frozen to the bone. Let's go. As your Mr. Smith says, nothing to see."

***

Martha parked her bike next to an old barn, then headed inside to find the TARDIS. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, looking around. "Hello," she said quietly, then blinked. "I'm talking to a machine."

She walked up to the scanner and turned it on. A recording of the Doctor and the Alchemist appeared. "This working?" the Doctor asked.

"I checked, it's working," the Alchemist sighed.

"Right. Martha, before we change, here's a list of instructions for when we're human. One, don't let us hurt anyone. We can't have that, but you know what humans are like."

"Two," the Alchemist interrupted, "don't worry about the TARDIS. She'll be on emergency power, so they can't detect her. She'll just hide away."

"Four," the Doctor began.

"Three," the Alchemist corrected.

"Yes, three. No getting involved in big historical events."

"Four, you," the Alchemist smiled. "We shouldn't abandon you, but don't let us do it."

"Five - "

"But there was a meteor, a shooting star!" Martha clicked to fast forward. "What am I supposed to do then?"

"And twenty three," the Doctor finished, "if anything goes wrong, if they find us, Martha, then you know what to do. Open the watches. Everything we are are kept safe in there."

"I've put perception filters on them so the human us won't think anything of it," the Alchemist promised. "They'll just be watches to us, but don't open them unless you have to."

"Because once one of them's open, then the Family will be able to find us," the Doctor continued. "It's all down to you, Martha. Your choice."

"And thank you," the Alchemist smiled.

Martha closed her eyes as the recording ended. "I wish you'd come back," she whispered.

***

Latimer heard talking inside Mr. Smith's study, but knocked on the door anyway. The conversation stopped, and John opened the door. "You told me to come and collect that book, sir," Latimer said.

"Good lad," he beamed, letting him inside. "Yes, yes, The Definitive Account of Mafeking by Aitchison Price. Where did I put it?"

"Good to see you, Tim," Alicia smiled at Latimer from where she was looking through John's books.

"And you, ma'am," he nodded.

"And I wanted a little word," John added. "Your marks aren't quite good enough."

"I'm top ten in my class, sir," Latimer frowned.

"Now, be honest, Timothy, you should be at the very top," John gave him a look. "You're a clever boy. You seem to be hiding it. Where is that book?" he grumbled. "And I know why. Keeping your head low avoids the mockery of your classmates."

"No man should hide himself," Alicia shook her head. "What do you think, Tim?"

"Yes, ma'am," Latimer agreed with her.

"You're clever. Be proud of it. Use it."

Latimer turned, frowning at Alicia's voice, though she hadn't spoken. "Miss Morrow, if you wouldn't mind?" John asked for her help looking for the book.

Latimer looked over at the two fob watches on the mantle, then hesitantly picked them up. "Time Lords," a female voice hissed. "Hide yourself!"

"The secret lies within," John's voice said.

"We're trapped," Alicia's voice said. "We're kept inside the cogs."

Curious, Latimer opened the silver watch. "In the dark, waiting," John's voice said. "Always waiting."

"Fascinating details about the siege," John returned with the book, Alicia stepping off of a stool, Latimer quickly shutting it and putting both watches in his pocket. "Really quite remarkable . . . " He frowned, seeing his face. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, sir," Latimer nodded. "Fine, sir."

"Right, then," John nodded. "Good. And remember, use that brain of yours."

"Power of a Time Lord!"

As John handed over the book, Latimer blinked, seeing his teacher in a tighter suit, holding up a silver wand-like device. "You're really not looking yourself, old chap," John tilted his head. "Anything bothering you?"

"No, sir," Latimer shook his head. "Thank you, sir."

"Have a good day, Tim," Alicia smiled.

"Power of a Time Lady. Last of the Creators."

Latimer blinked, seeing Alicia with the scariest, most furious look he'd ever seen, wearing skin-tight white clothes, holding up a futuristic gun. "And you, ma'am," he hurried out.

***

"Concentrate," John advised the boys as they practiced firing machine guns. "Hutchinson, excellent work."

"Cease fire!" Mr. Rocastle's voice called.

"Good day to you, Headmaster," John nodded to him as he approached, seeing Alicia slowly walk out onto the grounds as well, keeping an eye on the machine guns.

"Your crew's on fine form today, Mr. Smith."

"Excuse me, Headmaster, we could do a lot better," Hutchinson frowned. "Latimer's being deliberately shoddy."

"I'm tying my best," Latimer protested.

"You need to be better than the best," Rocastle gave him a look. "Those targets are tribesmen from the dark continent."

"That's exactly the problem, sir. They only have spears."

"Oh, dear me," Rocastle sighed. "Latimer takes it upon himself to make us realize how wrong we all are. I hope, Latimer, that one day, you may have a just and proper war in which to prove yourself." John saw the scowl and dirty look Alicia gave the man behind his back. "Now, resume firing."

The guns fired again, but then one sputtered and stopped. "Stoppage!" Hutchinson barked. "Immediate action. Didn't I tell you, sir? This stupid boy is useless! Permission to give Latimer a beating, sir."

"It's your class, Mr. Smith," Rocastle turned.

John caught the challenge in Alicia's look in his direction, and his answer was immediate. "Permission denied. Latimer, perhaps Miss Morrow could use your help in the library later this evening." He was rewarded with Alicia's proud look. John, however, frowned when Baines inhaled deeply, then looked at him. "Anything the matter, Baines?" John asked.

"I thought . . . " Baines shook his head. "No, sir. Nothing, sir."

"As you were, Mr. Smith," Rocastle bowed.

"Pemberton, Smythe, Wicks, take post," John ordered, then turned to walk over to Alicia where she was waiting. "Miss Morrow."

"I'll give you back your journal when next I see you," she said.

"No, no, no, you don't have to."

"Sorry," Alicia blew out a breath. "It's just . . . Jack was a good shooter. It ended up getting him killed."

***

"It was in the Battle of Spion Cop," Alicia said as they walked through the village, Alicia's arm in John's. "The same one Joan's husband was lost in. I was angry with the army for such a long time."

"You still are," John guessed.

"And yet, I find myself as part of that school, watching boys learn how to kill."

"Don't you think discipline is good for them?"

"Does it have to be such military discipline?" Alicia gave him a look. "If there's another war, those boys won't find it so amusing."

"Well, Great Britain is at peace," John shrugged. "Long may it reign."

"But we both wrote about next year," Alicia reminded him. "1914."

"Those were just dreams."

"I wasn't the only one who dreamed of mud and wire. You told of a shadow. A shadow falling across the entire world."

"Well, then, we can be thankful it's not true," John shook his head. "And I'll admit, mankind doesn't need warfare and bloodshed to prove itself. Everyday life can provide honor and valor, and let's hope that from now on, this - "

Alicia frowned, watching two men try and handle a piano, the rope fraying. "John . . . "

John caught sight of what she did, but tried to finish his thought. "This country can find its heroes in smaller places, in the most - "

"John!" Alicia cried, watching a woman pushing a carriage with a young baby around the corner, heading for the piano.

"Ordinary of . . . deeds . . . " John looked around. "Alice, ball!"

Alicia yanked the cricket ball from a young boy and pitched it to John, who threw it at the scaffolding nearby. In a chain reaction, a milk churn toppled in front of the carriage, stopping them just before the piano crashed and smashed into pieces.

The two of them stared for a moment, then looked at each other. "Did we just - ?" Alicia asked.

"Lucky," John tried to wave it off.

"That was luck?" she raised an eyebrow.

John grinned at her. "Miss Morrow, might I invite you to the village dance this evening, as my guest?"

Alicia laughed. "You extraordinary man!"

***

"So, the Doctor is the man you'd like to be," Alicia said as they walked in the field. "Doing impossible things with cricket balls."

"Well, I discovered a talent, that's certainly true," John admitted.

"But the Doctor has an eye for the ladies," Alicia teased.

"The devil," he rolled his eyes.

"A girl at every fireplace."

"Ah, now, there I have to protest, Alice," John gave her a look. "That is hardly me."

Alicia stopped and tilted his head. "You're calling me Alice now."

"So I am," he nodded, frowning. "Do you not like it?"

"I love it," she assured him with a smile. "No one has called me that."

"Only me, then," John grinned at her, before something else caught his eye. "That scarecrow's all skewed," he walked over to fix it.

"Ever the artist," Alicia watched him intently. "Where did you learn to draw again?"

"Gallifrey," John answered absently.

Alicia blinked. She'd heard that name before . . . where? "Is that in Ireland?" she wondered.

"Yes, it must be," John nodded. "Yes . . . "

"But I've known you since we were young," Alicia frowned. "You're not Irish."

"Not at all, no," John shook his head. "My father Sidney was a watchmaker from Nottingham, and my mother Verity was, er . . . " He shuffled. "Well, she was a nurse, actually."

"Oh, really?" Alicia looked down at her feet. "Maybe that's why Joan was interested."

"I assure you, I am not," John promised, then stepped back. "Well, my work is done. What do you think?"

Alicia looked up, still looking a bit down from hearing John's mother had been a nurse. "Masterpiece," she said briefly.

"All sorts of skills today," he smiled, offering his hand for her to take.

She cracked a small smile and took his hand, letting him lead her back to the school.

***

"I swear, John, the day you stop taking my books is the day the world ends," Alicia shook her head, looking between two books, then turned, realizing he hadn't spoken for a while. She tilted her head, seeing he was bent over his journal. "What are you doing?"

He looked up with a smile. "Come see."

Alicia walked over to sit next to him, and she gasped, eyes wide. John had drawn a lifelike sketch of her standing and looking down at her stack of books, looking at the title intently. "Oh, goodness," she breathed. "I can't look like that. Are you sure that's not me?" she pointed to the creature called a Slitheen on the other page.

"Most definitely this page," John chuckled, tapping his sketch of her. "Do you like it?"

"You've made me far too beautiful," Alicia mumbled.

"Well, that's how I see you." John eyed her as she lowered her head, and he asked, "Would this happen to do with what I said earlier, about my mother being a nurse?"

"We're years apart, John," Alicia whispered softly. "She's closer to your age, she's been kinder to you than I've been - "

"And does it look like I care about that?" John interrupted, raising a hand to her cheek and turning her towards him.

"John - "

Alicia never got to finish her sentence before he kissed her. It only took a second for her to kiss him back. "I don't care," John whispered to her, his hand still on her cheek.

"Bozo," Alicia mumbled before kissing him again.

The door to the study opened, and John growled, pulling back. "Martha, what have I told you about entering unannounced?" he spat.

Martha stood in the doorway, looking between the two of them, then hurriedly closed the door. "We'll be the talk of the school soon," Alicia sighed, pushing her hair behind her ear.

"No matter," John shook his head, taking her hands in his.

"You don't care about that either, do you, John?"

"Not at all," he smiled at her.

"Neither do I," she admitted.

***

Martha shook her head as she watched the instructions again. "That's no good," she huffed. "Of course you didn't think about women. But falling that deep in love with a human Alchemist? What in hell am I supposed to do then? You had to, didn't you? You had to go and fall in love with her that much."

***

"You look wonderful," John smiled as he watched Alicia twirl in front of the mirror, wearing a simple white dress with bell sleeves, her blonde hair pinned and tied in a bun.

"If I remember correctly, you weren't as good a dancer back then," Alicia turned to him. "Can you dance now?"

"I'm not certain," he admitted.

"There's a surprise," she snorted. "Is there anything you're certain about."

He smiled at her. "Yes," he nodded, taking her hands. "Yes."

She smiled up at him happily in return.

***

"There you are!" Martha said, pouring a cup of tea as the door opened. "Come and look what I've got. Mr. Poole didn't want his afternoon tea, so Cook said I could have it, and there's enough for two." She looked up when Jenny didn't sit. "What are you standing there for?" Jenny inhaled deeply, and Martha frowned. "Are you all right?"

"I must have a cold coming on," Jenny walked over.

"The problem is, I keep thinking about them, but I don't know what to do," Martha sighed.

"Thinking about who?"

"Mr. Smith and Miss Morrow, because it's never going to last. He's going to leave in a few weeks." Alicia was going to as well, but since Martha didn't have any connection to her as Alicia, she couldn't say that.

"Why?"

"It's like his contract comes to an end, and she's going to be heartbroken."

"Leave for where?"

"All sorts of places. I wish I could tell you, Jenny, but it's complicated."

"In what way?"

"I just can't."

"It sounds so interesting." Jenny leaned forward, suddenly much more intimidating. "Tell me. Tell me now!"

Martha stared at her, surprised by the sudden attitude shift, when she slowly asked, "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, thanks," she nodded, sitting back and smiling.

"I could put a nice bit of gravy in the pot," she suggested. "And some mutton. Or sardines and jam. How about that?"

"I like the sound of that."

"Right." Martha stood. "Hold on a tick."

The moment she was out of the room, Martha ran out of the servant quarters and headed for the school, narrowly avoiding an energy ray shot at her.

***

Both John and Alicia turned when Martha burst into the room. "They've found us!" Martha gasped.

"Oh, this is ridiculous!" Alicia groaned.

"Martha, I've warned you," John began.

"They've found us, and I've seen them," Martha interrupted, heading to the mantle. "They look like people, like us, like normal. I'm sorry, but you've got to open the watches . . . where are they?" She looked everywhere around them. "Oh, my God. Where've they gone? Where're the watches?"

"What are you talking about?" John frowned.

"You had two watches," Martha pointed. "Two fob watches, right there."

"Did I?" John frowned, looking at Alicia. "I don't remember."

"What concern is it of yours, Martha?" Alicia tilted her head.

"We need it," Martha insisted. "Oh, my God, you two, we're hiding from aliens, and they've got Jenny, and they've possessed her or copied her or something, and you've got to tell me . . . where are the watches?"

"Oh, I see," John sighed. "Cultural differences. It must be so confusing for you. Martha, this is what we call a story."

"Oh, you complete - " Martha was tempted to say bozo. "This is not you! This is 1913!"

"Good," John nodded. "This is 1913."

Martha groaned. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, but I've got to snap you out of this."

Alicia gasped when Martha slapped the Doctor hard. "Martha!"

"Wake up!" Martha shouted to both of them. "You're coming back to the TARDIS with me - "

"How dare!" John glared at her, grabbing her arm. "How dare you! I'm not going anywhere with an insane servant! Martha, you are dismissed. You will leave these premises immediately. Now get out!" He shoved her out the door without further ado. "The nerve of it," he grumbled, turning back to Alicia. "The absolute cheek . . . " He paused, seeing she looked thoughtful, her head tilted. "You think I'm a fantasist? What about her?"

"The funny thing is," Alicia said slowly, "you did have two fob watches, right there. At least . . . I think you did."

***

Latimer was walking down the corridor when he bumped into someone. "Oh, sorry!" Martha's voice called. "Sorry!"

Latimer's eyes widened, seeing another version of Martha, this time in tight-fitting clothes. "Martha?" he asked.

"Not now, Tim!" Martha ran off. "Busy!"

"Return," the Alchemist's voice whispered. "The power must return . . . "

***

"But how did she know the box was called a TARDIS?" Alicia wondered as they walked to the village hall. "I certainly never spoke of it."

John looked down at their hands. "You've taken my hand in public."

Alicia shrugged. "I'm very scared."

"Spare a penny for the veterans of the Crimea, sir?" a beggar asked.

"Yes, of course," John pulled out a few coins. "There you are."

***

"Oh, staff entrance, I think, miss," the same beggar said as Martha approached, carrying something in her apron.

"Yeah?" Martha raised an eyebrow. "Well, think again, mate." She pushed past him, then found Alicia sitting at a table, John at a refreshments table talking with Joan.

"Oh, no," Alicia groaned as Martha approached. "Martha, please, not again."

"He's different from any other man you've ever met, right?" Martha raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," she frowned.

"And sometimes he says these strange things, like people and places you've never heard of, yeah? But it's deeper than that. Sometimes when you look in his eyes, you know, you just know that there's something else in there, something hidden, right behind the eyes, something hidden away in the dark."

Alicia paused. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do," she smiled. "I don't mean to be rude, but the awful thing is that if I asked him the same, he would say it about you as well. And I'm sorry, to both of you, for what I'm about to do."

"Oh, now really, Martha," John complained as he walked up, Joan trailing behind. "This is getting out of hand. I must insist that you leave."

Martha pulled one hand out of her apron, holding up his sonic screwdriver. "Do you know what this is?" she quizzed. "Name it. Go on. Name it."

"John, what is that silly thing?" Joan frowned.

"John?" Alicia asked softly. "If I know it, then surely you do."

"You're not John Smith," Martha told John as he took it. "You're called the Doctor. The man in your journal, he's real. He's you. And if you're real . . . then I'm sorry, but you're not Alicia Morrow." She withdrew her other hand, holding out the Alchemist's sonic blaster. "You're the Alchemist. You're the Doctor's Bonded."

A hiss came from outside, then Baines, Jenny, and another man entered the hall. "There will be silence!" the man shouted. "All of you! I said, silence!"

"Mr. Clarke, what's going on?" one of the other teachers asked.

Mr. Clark just pointed a ray gun at him, and the man was vaporized. People everywhere gasped, and scarecrows filed into the room. "Mr. Smith? Miss Morrow?" Martha said nervously. "Everything I told you, just forget it. Don't say anything."

"We asked for silence!" Baines glared around the room as Alicia slowly put her blaster down on a table nearby. "Now, then . . . we have a few questions for Mr. Smith."

"No, better than that," a young girl, Lucy Cartwright, bounced up, smiling away. "The teacher, he's the Doctor. I heard them talking."

Baines sniffed. "You took human form!"

"Of course I'm human! I was born human!" John sputtered as Alicia looked from the four to John. "As were you, Baines, and Jenny, and you, Mr. Clark. What is going on? This is madness!"

"Ooo, and a human brain, too," Baines wrinkled his nose. "Simple, thick, and dull."

"But he's no good like this," Jenny whined.

"We need a Time Lord," Mr. Clark nodded.

"Easily done," Baines stepped forward, raising his ray gun, making Alicia grip John's arm tightly. "Change back."

"I don't know what you're talking about," John shook his head desperately.

"Change back!"

"I literally do not know - "

"Martha!" Alicia gasped.

Jenny tugged Martha away, putting her gun to her head. "Get off me!" Martha thrashed around.

"She's your friend, isn't she?" Jenny glared. "Doesn't this scare you enough to change back?"

"I don't know what you mean!"

"Wait a minute," Jenny frowned, then her lips curled up in a cruel smile. "The maid told me about Smith and the librarian. That woman, there!"

"Then let's have you!" Mr. Clark leered, gripping Alicia's arm tightly and wrenching her away from John. Alicia thrashed more than Martha did, but quickly froze when Mr. Clark pressed the muzzle of his gun to her head, his hand still holding her left arm tightly.

"Have you enjoyed it, Doctor? Being human?" Baines tilted his head. "Has it taught you wonderful things? Are you better, richer, wiser? Then let's see you answer this. Which one of them do you want us to kill? Maid or librarian? Your friend or your lover? Your choice."

***

Well, we'll have to see what happens with these two next time! I hope to get "Family of Blood