Hello,

I'm afraid that I'm having to reupload this chapter, as the website decided to just delete it (I'm not sure why)

I took the oppurtunity to fix some mistakes, as I couldn't help noticing that I called the car 'Bettie' rather than 'Bessie' a few times. I'm meant to be studying English, so we can see how that's going.

I'm currently workin on Chapter 5, which should be up soon, sorry about the delays, but I'm so grateful to everyone who has stuck with this. I really do love writing this, when I can.

So, if you haven't read it yet, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

If you have, then Chapter 5 is coming soon.


The trip to Whittlesey was interesting to say the least. Well, it hadn't started well, so why should it end well? As Tom had run into the garage in pursuit of the Doctor, he had got quite the shock to discover the man, sitting in a small, yellow, Edwardian roadster. For a moment, he just stared at it, the Doctor couldn't be serious, could he? It was a beautiful little thing, even he could appreciate that, but he didn't quite trust it to be transporting them 60 miles along motorways. It looked as if anything above 30 miles per hour, would cause it to fall apart.

"Well?" The Doctor asked, staring at him from behind the wheel, "Are you getting in, or are you just going to stand there and stare all day?"

Here it took a while for Tom to find his voice, he really was serious!

"Wouldn't you rather go in the jeep, sir?" He asked in vain, hoping to at least get the Doctor to consider. "It's just with time constraints..."

However, this just seemed to annoy the older man, who had clearly already made up his mind, as he interrupted him,

"No I would not." The Doctor replied indignantly, "Those things have the technical and safety precautions of a tin can. Bessie will be more than capable of getting us to Whittlesey."

Bessie? Tom thought to himself, continuing to stare at both the car and the man inside of it. He'd named his car?

"For God's sake man, the car won't bite" The Doctor huffed, apparently having reached the end of his patience as he turned the ignition of the small machine, allowing it to burst into life,

"Despite what the Brigadier says," The scientist stated from behind the wheel, as he frowned up the younger man, "I have no issue with leaving you behind. Get into the car, Sergeant."

Here, Tom finally relented. He was never going to convince the Doctor, was he? So, with a sigh, he lowered himself down into the leather passenger seat beside the scientist, finding himself smiling slightly, as he realised just how far down it really was. Though apparently, the Doctor didn't seem to share his sense of humour, frowning once again as he caught sight of the soldier's smirk,

"Is my car funny, Sergeant?" He asked, distain dripping off every word, as he stared at the younger man, "Would you care to walk to Whittlesey?"

Despite the fact that, judging by the age of the car he was currently sitting in, it would have been safer to walk, Tom quickly schooled his features into a clear mask. Though inwardly he was still grinning like a Cheshire Cat, he forced himself to keep his voice steady,

"No, Doctor." He said simply, before allowing a small smile to crack through his facade, "Sorry, Sir."

Apparently, all was forgiven, as the Doctor returned a small smile of his own, before once again, allowing his features to drop back into their usual disapproving look. Quickly, he reversed the car out of the garage, giving a appreciative nod to the soldier who had opened the large sliding door for them, before driving down to the front gates. As they stopped, awaiting the opening of the large metal barrier in front of them, the Doctor quickly reached across and opened up the glove compartment in front of Tom,

"Make yourself useful." He said pulling out a large map and dropping into the Sergeant's lap, "I'm sure you can handle giving directions."

Tom, who was still attempting to work out why on earth the Doctor would need a hairdryer in his glove compartment, quickly looked up.

"Of course, Sir." He muttered, hurriedly opening the map up and attempting to find their location. Though just as he believed he'd found it, the Doctor apparently decided to put his foot down, as the car suddenly lurched forward as it accelerated, causing Tom to drop the paper from his grasp. The car had no roof, meaning the wind was more than powerful enough to blow the map away, and it was just by luck that Tom managed to catch it before it was lost. As he quickly pulled it back down to his lap, attempting to hold it there, the young Sergeant found himself glancing at the Doctor beside him, who was currently sporting a smug smile,

"What was that you were saying," The Doctor started, the smile not faltering as he stared ahead at the road, "about Bessie being slow, Sergeant?"

When they finally arrived in Whittlesey, Tom found himself considering the Doctor's early option of walking, and beginning to wish he'd taken it. He'd faced bombs and guns, been kidnapped and held captive, but none of those things seemed to compare to the terror or plummeting down the motorway at 60 miles per hour; on wooden wheels! He'd spent most of the time worrying that the car would fall apart as they were moving. Though true to the Doctor's word it hadn't taken as long as he thought it would. Though, with the wind provided by the lack of a roof, it had been near impossible to read the map, resulting in more than one wrong turning. And, of course, according to the Doctor, that was all his fault. The journey had mostly been taken in silence, only being broken by him shouting directions, the Doctor telling him that he was wrong and muttering over how it isn't difficult to read a map, and the Doctor's occasional humming of odd melodies, that Tom had never heard before.

As they parked in the town square, Tom found himself practically jumping out of the car as it came to a stop. Which earned him an annoyed look from the other man,

"So where do you want to start, Doctor?" He asked, absentmindedly straightening out his uniform, the wind having taken its toll on that as well.

"There's only one place to get information in a village like this, Sergeant." He told the younger man, as he too began to straighten out his jacket, "You have to go to the heart."

This made Tom frown slightly, he'd always been a city boy, having been born and bred in London, so he knew very little about villages like this. What did the Doctor mean by the heart?

"So, where's the heart of the village, Doctor?" He asked, trying to mask his confusion, though as he saw the older man begin to stride off, he guessed he wouldn't be getting an answer. As they walked side by side, Tom couldn't help wondering what the Doctor had planned,

"Where are we..." He started before he realised that the Doctor had headed off in the other direction, stopping in front of what looked to be one of the oldest buildings in the village, above the large oak door hung a sign, apparently naming the place 'The Fox Inn'

"You see, Sergeant" The Doctor stated, pushing open the door and striding in, "The best place for information in a small place like this; is the local pub."

Taking in what he'd just heard, Tom found himself grinning slightly, before follow the older man into the warm and musty building.


Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.

Again Chapter 5 should be up soon.

Until Next Time

TTFN (Tah Tah For Now)