The Doctor pushed the door of the TARDIS open, inhaling deeply in order to get himself accustomed to this place and time. This was the first time he'd been in sixties London in this particular body,but he felt somewhat thrilled to see how it would turn out. He had a plan growing and evolving in his mind - it was just a matter of putting it into place.

His first stop, of course, would be inside I.M. Foreman's Scrapyard. He could recall some very important and fascinating moments of his life that had taken place at that particular location - now, if everything went well for him, the Doctor would be creating even more history for himself in that spot. Then again, things hardly ever went according to plan when it came to this particular Time Lord.

As he entered the scrapyard, he was pleased to see the shape of a man not very far away. Confident that this was the precise person he was looking for, the Doctor began moving forwards as quickly as he could without breaking into any sort of run - he didn't want to draw attention to himself quite yet. He wanted to act as calmly about the matter as possible just to heighten the surprise.

He approached the man, straightening his coat as he walked by. It didn't look like a coat from the sixties, as it wasn't - but the Doctor knew there were always stranger things surrounding him no matter where he went. He just seemed to carry an aura along with himself that showed that he was from somewhere else, that he was alien - and the Doctor adored that.

Nevertheless, he hadn't a clue if the man would know who he was. He was anticipating that it would be a no - the last time the two had met, the Doctor had looked significantly younger and different in general. The man had looked different as well...but the Doctor was positive he'd managed to find the right person.

"Sir, do you need help with anything?" the man called out towards the Doctor. He started moving forwards, trying to be courteous. As he quickened his pace, he made sure to keep one hand on the hat he perched on top of his head - he wanted to keep it on as long as possible.

"Not help, I suppose, but I do need to speak with you. That is, as long as you are the owner of this scrapyard," the Doctor said.

"Why yes, I am," the man replied. "You'll find that most people don't end up in scrapyard unless they need something in particular or they own it..." His speech faded away as he finally looked at the Doctor face to face for the first time. He couldn't believe what he was seeing - it just didn't seem possible.

"Doctor?" the man asked, his eyebrows reaching up so high they could have nearly disappeared underneath the hat perched on his head. "Doctor, is that you?"

"Indeed it is," the Doctor replied, nodding his head. "I'm surprised you recognise me. This is a new face, after all."

"More like a new everything," the man noted. "I didn't recognise any of it, no. I just watched the warning signs. You know that Brook told me about all these sorts of things. I retained it, in the end."

"Well, I'm glad we don't have to deal with all the uncomfortable introduction," the Doctro responded. "It's good to see you again, Foreman."

"It's I.M. Foreman now," the man said, almost immediately regretting what he just said. He hated feeling silly in front of the Doctor - even if she was gone, the Doctor's daughter had once been his wife. He was the Doctor's son in law and that ended up being rather strange.

"Ah, yes, I apologize!" the Doctor said. "I should've known. I.M. Foreman's Scrapyard, of course!"

"Exactly," I.M. Foreman replied. "I heard that Susan chose her name from me..."

"How did you hear that?" He hesitated for a moment. "Brook told me."

"Brook told you?"

"Yes."

"I see."

"You do?"

"Well, she came to see me as well. Tethered to the TARDIS, yes?"

"Exactly," I.M. Foreman responded, slightly stunned. He hadn't been expecting the Doctor to have any idea what he was talking about, but sure enough he seemed to be perfectly clear on what was going on.

"It's true, I can vouch for her," the Doctor said, giving a slight smile. "That's why I'm here to begin with."

"What, because of Brook?" I.M. Foreman asked, his face paling slightly. He wasn't sure quite what was going on, which frightened him. "Or the TARDIS? I-"

"Because of Susan!" the Doctor laughed. "Susan Foreman. Your daughter, my granddaughter. That's why I'm here."

"What? Is she...is she here?" I.M. Foreman had to use all of his willpower to prevent himself from whipping his head around and trying to see if she was anywhere around. He would never admit it, but he felt somewhat desperate to see his daughter again - it was a feeling he'd experienced for far too many years.

"No, Susan isn't here. But she is near, and that means that it was only fitting that I came to see you first."

"Ah, I see. I guess that makes sense - things are always changing, like right here in the sixties. Things have changed quite an awful lot, haven't they? If you don't mind my asking, how did you regenerate?" Foreman asked.

"The question is, why did you regenerate? I thought you were attempting to keep yourself out of trouble," the Doctor replied, smiling slightly.

"I haven't changed that much," I.M. Foreman replied, releasing a sigh. "I mean, I look different, but...inside, it doesn't feel like I've changed much. Never mind all of the DNA being changed."

"And you think that I've changed all that much on the inside?" the Doctor asked. "Surely you understand the ins and outs of regeneration fairly well now."

"I've only regenerated twice, Doctor," I.M. Foreman reminded him. "And the first time was under different situations. You can have a million Time Lords explain it to you, but it's not the same things as when you experience it all yourself."

"Ah, I see," the Doctor stated. He certainly didn't sound very convinced over the entire thing, but he didn't press it any further.

"It's difficult regenerating when you don't have anyone to guide you along. Sometimes you're alone exactly when you need someone else the most," I.M. Foreman said, flashes of how Brook had helped him through his first regeneration appearing in his mind.

"I know what you're going through, F - actually, what do you want me to call you?"

I.M. Foreman stared over at his fellow Time Lord for several moments, attempting to figure out what he needed to say next. I.M. Foreman was quite a mouthful for anyone to say, after all. He could go with his old name from Gallifrey, or he could go with his name that Brook had given him, the one that had changed his life.

"Foreman," he decided. "Rechsamsayqueyer is just too much for an everyday basis, don't you think?" "Foreman it is, then," the Doctor said. "I had a feeling you were going to go back to that one."

"You were saying...you know, about knowing what I'm going through."

"Oh yes, of course," the Doctor said. "Things always change, but some things stay the same. Even regeneration can't change that. It's hard for people who aren't Time Lords to understand. I've experienced it plenty with my companions."

"Never really had a companion," Foreman murmured to himself. The conversation faded out, but only for a few moments.

"I landed the TARDIS nearby - would you like to see it?" the Doctor asked. A small twinkle burst to life in his eyes, like a star was born within the skies of his irises. He loved this feeling, absolutely adored it - he was offering adventure, and the person didn't know it quite yet.

"I would, yes," Foreman replied, his voice rather stiff. It was true - he did want to see the TARDIS, but at the same time he felt a strong desire to stick to the very spot he was currently standing in. He was more or less trying to be polite towards the Doctor at the moment. He'd just look at the TARDIS for a few moments and then go about his business.

"Then follow me - it's right beside Coal Hill, you won't have to walk very far," the Doctor exclaimed. He didn't give Foreman any opportunity to pause and reconsider it. Instead, he just started walking away at a very quick pace and listened for the sound of Foreman trailing behind him. Just as he said, it wasn't a particularly long walk - soon the two were standing before the TARDIS.

"You can go in," the Doctor said. "You don't need an invitation to go inside - you've already gotten your invitiation, remember?" With that push, Foreman decided to let his feet just carry him within the TARDIS as he pulled the doors open.

Foreman's breath escaped him as if it had been stolen from his lungs - a sensation he felt very unfamiliar with, due to his Time Lord physique. He'd been through all sorts of surprises and horrors, but at the end of the day he'd never been so immediately affected by any of them. That could have something to do with the fact he was barely conscious during one of the most intense parts of his life, however...

The thought that he was back in the TARDIS after so many years made Foreman believe that he might've dropped out of his true life and into some bizarre dream. The experience of simply standing there made him think he'd fallen into something out of his past, a past which he'd never thought he'd get a proper connection to ever again.

He'd never found himself attached to the blue box, not the way that he knew that his wife had been back when she was alive. While yes, it did astound him and make him fascinated, that was little more than curiosity guiding his mind along. What his wife had felt for the TARDIS was something akin to love - sometimes he'd wondered if she cared more for the time machine than she did for him.

Nevertheless, he couldn't deny the way his breath was being drawn from his mouth as time went on. He was astounded just by being in this box, even though he knew how it worked and he'd been around time machines for such a large portion of his life.

Now that he was standing in the console room, he reminded himself of how much history had taken place both inside the TARDIS and right outside of it. He'd taken his daughter time traveling for the first time in that box - and she'd come back to it later on. Now she would be back in the box, everything having turned out well in the end.

That thought was awfully satisfying to Foreman - something he'd never really felt throughout the years he'd been making himself a life of sorts in London. His life had been more or less getting through every single day, with very few extraordinary things popping out in front of him.

He attempted to think somewhat deeper about the situation when the TARDIS began to groan. It was making its classic noise as the Doctor moved about the console, pulling a lever there and slamming his palm down on a button there. He didn't even seem to notice Foreman was still in the control room.

"Doctor, what the hell are you doing?" Foreman asked, his eyes beginning to bulge.

"Exactly what you think I'm doing," the Doctor replied, waving the question aside. "I'm flying the TARDIS. We're going to find Susan."

"I never agreed - I never said I wanted to time travel," Foreman said, letting out a small gasp. "I want to stay with my...my scrapyard! Doctor, I have a plan...I don't want..."

"Never mind your plan right now, I have one of my own. Don't you want to see your daughter again?"

"Of course," Foreman forced out, his eyes remaining wide. "Doctor, I have a show, my-"

"Your show, the one to attract time travelers, right?" the Doctor asked. "I don't think you'll miss it all that much once you're gone."

"Doctor, I have versions of me within that show! Future regenerative versions of myself."

"Not anymore, you don't."

"What, you won't let me go back?" Foreman exclaimed, horrified by the idea. He'd made 1960's London his home, no matter how much he always managed to stick out of it due to the fact he was from an entirely different planet.

"I'll give you a choice," the Doctor decided. "I'll let you decide if you want to stay with me or go back to-"

"I want to go back," Foreman immediately snapped. "I have my own things to care of."

"I'll let you decide if you want to stay with me or go back to London, but you must promise to put actual thought into your decision and not just go with the first thing that pops into your head."

"I promise you, once I put actual thought into the situation, I'll come up with the same thing," Foreman replied. "I'm not abandoning my show. I'm not abandoning myself."

The Doctor heaved out a sigh, expelling so much breath that Foreman felt somewhat nervous that he might end up tipping over from the amount of air being pushed out of him. He wanted to move forwards as if to help him in some way, but at the same time he wanted to stand his ground. He had his show, and he was going to stick with it as much as he possibly could. He'd spoken his beliefs about it already.

"I won't try to convince you, because I know you already know what your best option is," the Doctor said. "You're not stupid - I know that for certain. Brook wouldn't have loved you if you were."

"Don't talk about Brook right now," Foreman grumbled. He was having enough difficulty sorting out his own thoughts without having to listen to whatever the Doctor had to say to him. He wanted this to pass by without any sort of problem, but he didn't know if that was possible.

The Doctor had a point when it came down to it - Foreman couldn't help but wonder why he was so drawn to the idea of traveling in the TARDIS...but at the same time, he couldn't understand why the Doctor was pushing him so much to follow with what he wanted.

"Why do you want me to come with you so badly?"

"No, no, no."

"No?"

"That's not the question."

"What?"

"The question is will you stay with me until we find Susan, at least?"

A/N Since I am awfully sick of the fact that my meaningless author's notes at the beginning  get hundreds more reads than my chapters, I've decided to eliminate them (at least for this story!). So here you get this - and I am thrilled to finally be putting this story out there! Also, I want to apologize for the cover - in the great transfer between laptops, pretty much all of my graphic design stuff was lost. I'm reloading some pictures and fonts and such, but the better cover is gone.