**I promise you all that the next chapters will not be published as quickly as this one was. I've also put the chapter split in the wrong place, so this chapter will probably be the longest one. Hope you're enjoying yourself, though, and please review if you have time!**
The Doctor emerged from the trees into another clearing, this one dominated by a large hole in the ground. The surrounding trees looked as if they had been blasted by hurricane-like winds, but none were uprooted. In fact, they looked relatively unscathed and were rustling merrily in the breeze, despite how much they tilted to one side. The Doctor glanced at the trees and noted how quickly the wildlife were returning to their normal routine, before he pushed his wonderings aside and focused on the object of his relentless pursuit. The "flying object" was nothing more than a meteorite, once a rather hefty size, now about the width of an armchair. It was silently smoldering in the bottom of the pit, but the Doctor took one look at it and knew that the projectile was not what it appeared to be. A meteorite was too simple an answer, too convenient, and made no sense. If this rock was a true space rock, the TARDIS shields would have deflected it, or at least altered her path or that of the asteroid's so their paths wouldn't meet in such a dangerous way. The TARDIS would never have allowed such an object to strike her without some reason behind it. He silently cursed his ship, knowing she had never steered him wrong before but reluctant to let the TARDIS do things like this just out of curiosity. She could have been seriously damaged.
Or maybe it was just a meteorite, and there was nothing to worry about. The Doctor had been wrong before, though he hated to admit it. Maybe they could just call the nearest museum and have the scientists and astronomers deal with it.
Only one way to find out, the Doctor supposed.
He stepped to the edge of the hole and began to work his way down its sides, kicking aside loose stones and roots as he did so. Behind him, Clara had attempted to follow him, but she nearly lost her footing on the first step. She retreated back to the edge of the hole and hoped the Doctor didn't plan on staying long. A cold wind was picking up.
The Doctor was too focused on the rock in front of him to notice his absent companion. Up close, it barely matched the Doctor in height. He placed his hand on its surface, cautiously at first, and then with more pressure as it became clear that the rock was actually quite cool.
"See this, Clara?" He called to her without turning, "Giant space rock hurls through Earth's atmosphere, and it's cool to the touch." The Doctor ran his hand over the surface of the meteorite. "Remarkable," he murmured, before he began using both hands to rub the rock and knock on its surface in various places.
Clara had heard the Doctor, but she doubted she would get a full explanation any time soon. She brushed a stray hair from her eyes and shouted down to him, "Tell me when you've finished, will you?"
The Doctor turned up at the sound of her voice, and seemed surprised that his companion was so far away. "Still up there, are you? Decided that adventure just isn't your thing today? Come on, a little dirt never hurt anyone!"
"I'm keeping a lookout!" Clara replied, glancing at the trees, but even she could hear how lame her excuse sounded. She watched the Time Lord shake his head and turn back to the meteorite, and she exhaled loudly in exasperation.
"Yes, yes, of course, sorry," The Doctor murmured to himself as he continued to knock around the circumference of the rock. "I should have remembered how dangerous Earth can be."
Then one of his knocks seemed to hit a sweet spot and a hollow sound rang in the Doctor's ears. He grinned and tapped the rock in the same spot again, just to hear the sound. "Found you."
He quickly took a small knife and a glass dish out of his limitless coat pockets. While Clara craned her neck from above the hole to see what he was doing, the Doctor scraped off a portion of the meteorite into the dish. He smiled down at his new sample, and then began the trek back up the sides of the hole.
"What did you find?" Clara asked as soon as the Doctor reached the edge of the pit. She had assumed that the meteorite was just a space rock and of no consequence, but, as the Doctor continued to show her, appearances were not always as they seemed.
Much like the Doctor himself.
In response to her question, the Time Lord glanced up from the glass dish he was balancing in his hand and replied tersely, "Dirt." It was then that the Doctor realized how much harder it was to breath after such a climb. He was getting old. He knew for a fact that at least two regenerations ago he would have jumped up that dirt slide like it was nothing more than the curb of a street.
Clara blinked at empty space as the Doctor breezed past her on his way to the TARDIS. "Dirt?"
"Yes, dirt. Space dirt. If I can analyze this then we'll have a least some idea as to where it came from and what's inside the capsule."
"Capsule?" Clara asked him, but she was still speaking to the Doctor's back as he strode into the trees. She stumbled along after him. "Doctor, it's a meteorite, how can anything be inside?"
She heard the Doctor scoff as he answered her, with a slight edge of annoyance to his voice. "It's hollow, and if you had come down into the hole with me you wouldn't have to ask so many questions."
As the pair disappeared into the trees, frightening off the wildlife with their bickering, the meteorite trembled slightly. Suddenly, the hollow section the Doctor had inspected burst outwards, and a golden claw emerged from the rock, curling menacingly.
"So that's your plan?" Clara said, following the distant Doctor closely on his heels. In her haste to question him, Clara forgot to close the TARDIS doors. "Find a space rock, analyze dirt, and expect it to tell you the secrets of the universe?"
"Yes, actually, it is." The Doctor still refused to turn towards her, and it made Clara fume. Why did he have to be so single-minded sometimes? She opened her mouth again, but the Doctor suddenly turned and beat her to it. "You are not miss-happy today. Are you in the middle of your menstrual cycle?"
Clara gaped at him, stunned. She couldn't decide whether to slap the gray-haired Time Lord into his next regeneration or go back and retrieve the giant meteorite so she could throw it at him. By the time she could formulate a response, the Doctor had already returned to his task, whatever that was. "Some plan," she muttered, "You don't even know where we are!"
"Earth."
Was he asking for it? Clara wondered if he had ever been thoroughly slapped before, and if she should show him a demonstration. "But where on Earth, and when?" When the Doctor refused to even acknowledge her presence, she added, "I don't like not knowing."
"Me, neither." He poured the contents of the glass dish into a small tube attached to the TARDIS console. A small yellow light began to blink in steadily, and Clara heard the TARDIS thrum as she began analyzing the dirt sample.
"Then find out!"
"What do you think I'm doing, then, eh?" The Doctor snapped, finally whipping around and shooting Clara a pointed glare. She hated that glare. It looked like a cartoon gone wrong. "Clara, a space rock just crashed into your home planet and you're obsessing about the where and when? It doesn't matter! This capsule could be devastating to the time stream whether it lands in 5 billion B.C. North America or 6-0-apple-12 A.D. But in answer to your bloody questions, this rock fell to Earth at exactly 1:39 in the PM with 50 seconds to spare. Its longitude and latitude are 54.5° N, 2° W, in that order. Just a few kilometers from Berwick-Upon-Tweed. The year, you ask? Why, lucky you, it's only the 18th century. And on a Sunday, too! Blasted Sundays. I've never liked them, they're too dull."
Clara had kept silent during the Doctor's tirade, and she once again berated herself for not being sensitive enough. When he finished, she could only respond with, "Not so dull if you get a rock capsule out of it." The Doctor didn't laugh, though, and he went back to his work. If staring at a monitor waiting for it to beep could be called work.
She bit her lip and sighed, a thought suddenly occurring to her. She should have thought of this possibility sooner, but then again, her mind wasn't always on that topic like the Doctor's was. Ever since that incident with his past regenerations…
"Doctor?" Clara ventured, "You're not thinking that that rock's from Gallifrey, are you?"
The Doctor froze, as if he didn't dare to breathe. Finally, he hung his head. "And if I do?" he said, "Is that such a terrible thing to hope for?"
Clara couldn't recall another time when the Doctor switched so fast between an angry demon to an old man. She lowered her eyes and leaned back against the railing. "No, no, I want that to be true as much as you do." She wasn't lying about that. If Gallifrey came back, then the Doctor would finally be happy. And if he was happy, perhaps the whole universe could be happy, too. "But…we've been so hopeful before. I just don't want you to get your hopes up too much. I don't want to see you get hurt."
"I don't think I can get any more hurt than I already am." The Doctor turned towards Clara and leaned against the TARDIS consul, the little light blinking in a steady rhythm. "I'm tired, Clara. I've been ready to sleep for so many regenerations now, it's a wonder I haven't ended it all myself. But I always thought, one more adventure. One more trip, and I'll feel complete. And now Gallifrey has returned, and I begin to wonder if maybe this…if this will be my final adventure. My grand finale. My destiny, as it were." He scoffed at the notion. "After I find the Time Lords, my people, maybe I can have resolution. Perhaps then I can rest. So yeah, maybe once in a while, I can wish—"
He was cut off by a strange, gurgling noise, like that of a bird. The Doctor and Clara froze and looked around, trying to pin-point the source of the sound. Then the Doctor saw the door.
"Clara," he said slowly, "did you forget to close the door?"
Her gulp was audible even through her fear, and she absently wondered if the Doctor could hear her pounding heart. "Yes."
The Doctor quickly jumped to the door and clicked it shut, and then turned back towards Clara. They stood completely still, and were finally rewarded with another bird-like cry that came from underneath the TARDIS consul. He raised a finger to his lips towards Clara, and slowly climbed off the walkway and to the floor below. Just as Clara made to follow him, there was the sound of something snapping and the entire ship was plunged in darkness. She resisted the urge to call out to the Doctor, but was fearful of his safety as well as her own. The darkness seemed to amplify the sounds of crunching and guttural croaks that came from below her feet.
She heard the Doctor's voice from below say, "Who are you?"
The only response was silence. Clara tensed in preparation to take a step forward, when suddenly she heard the whirr of the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. Finally! She mentally cheered at the sight of the little red dot, before the lights blazed to life and temporarily blinded Clara. Below her she heard a bird screech and the Doctor's shout of surprise.
She jumped back as something struck the grating and was stunned at what she saw. The Doctor was being pinned to the floor grating by what appeared to be a large, golden bird. Then it flapped its wings and she realized that it had four legs instead of two. And the strangest thing was, the creature didn't seem to be attacking the Doctor. It was licking him.
"Doctor!" Clara yelled, and the creature looked up. Its head was defiantly that of an eagle, except golden in color and attached to a feline body. With the creature distracted, the Doctor was able to push it off him and stand. He looked down at himself and scowled, while Clara stifled a laugh. His black clothes were completely covered in golden fur. The Doctor stumbled closer to her and Clara hurried over to help brush off the golden hair off his velvet coat.
She glanced at the creature again and watched as it jumped around like an excited puppy. Now that she could see it fully, Clara saw that it was relatively the size of a golden retriever from Earth. It was completely golden in color, and had feathers on its front end and fur on the back. The front half was an eagle, and the back was, perhaps, a lion? Its wickedly sharp claws reflected the light from the TARDIS and clattered against the grating loudly.
"Doctor, are you alright?" Clara asked, turning her attention back to the Doctor, "What is that thing?"
"This, Clara, is what humans might call a griffin. Intergalactic travelers know them by their more formal name, gryphes de stellis, or "griffin of the stars". My people knew them by a much more suitable title: pests. They're a species space hitchhikers, and if I am not mistaken this one just destroyed our helmic regulator."
Clara had no idea what that was, but she vaguely remembered the previous Doctor mentioning something like that. And about how important it was to the ship. "So that's bad, right?"
"Very," he muttered in reply, glaring at the griffin that was now prancing about his beloved ship. "Without it we have no way of controlling where or when we go in the TARDIS. We could end up anywhere or any-when, and it would be this fool of a creature's fault." The griffin didn't seem to hear the insult, but when it saw that both humans were watching it closely, it cawed loudly and tilted its head.
Clara would have called its lopsided grin and dangling tongue cute and very dog-like had the situation been less dire. "Well, what'd it do that for?"
"Because these hitchhikers always have a certain destination in mind. Those meteorite capsules are a one-way ride. If they want to get anywhere else, they'll have to snag someone's ship and use its navigation system to their advantage."
She stared at the Doctor, barely believing what she was hearing. "This bird thing, this griffin, was inside the space rock."
"Ready and waiting." He rocked back on his heels and watched their new space pest approach them, tail waving in the air.
Clara shook her head and sighed, leaning against the railing before she asked, "But why would it do all that? Why didn't it, I don't know, ask? I'm sure we could have taken it anywhere it needed to go."
The griffin now sat in between the Doctor and Clara, looking up at both of them eagerly. It was so proud of itself, and seemed to expect some kind of treat from them, as payment for his kind services. "Probably thought it could pilot the TARDIS better than I can," the Time Lord said, staring down at the beast. "Never said they were smart."
At the last remark the griffin suddenly hissed and crouched low, advancing towards the Doctor as if to spring. Clara reacted on instinct. She grabbed the only weapon close at hand, her scarf, and shook it at the griffin's back. "Stop it! Get away from him!" The griffin turned towards the new voice, but was distracted by something new. When Clara had torn off her scarf, it had caused her necklace to swing out and catch the light. As soon as the beast saw the glimmer of gold, a look of glee passed over its eyes. It screeched in triumph and launched itself at Clara's neck.
"Hey! Get off her!" the Doctor shouted, but the griffin had pinned Clara to the grating and wasn't moving an inch. Finally he shoved his hand into his pocket and called, "Here, boy, gold!"
The creature twisted around at the mention of the precious metal, and watched in rap attention as the Doctor tossed a handful of spinning, glittering golden coins across the galley. The griffin screeched again and flew towards the coins as they sunk through the grating, completely forgetting about the necklace.
The Doctor hurried over to Clara and helped her up. "Are you hurt?"
"Just scratched," she answered, wincing at the slight pain in her back from connecting with the hard floor. She'll have a bruise there tomorrow, for sure. Then again, Clara was thankful she had only light scratches on her neck and nothing more. "What was that for?"
"Your necklace," the Doctor said. He quickly pulled it over her head and shoved it into one of his coat pockets. "Griffins are a bit obsessed with g-o-l-d, or any other kind of precious metal or stone. They would use it for courtship rituals and for building their nests. But they can get a bit…wild when they see anything shiny. Got any more jewelry on you?"
"Yeah, here." Clara quickly slipped off her bangles and unpinned her earrings, which the Doctor put into one of his many coat pockets. She absently wondered if she'd ever see them again. "Now what?"
The Doctor and Clara turned back to the griffin, which had somehow retrieved all the coins and was attempting to create a small nest in between the TARDIS central column and the consul controls. "We wait," the Doctor said, gritting his teeth on the words as he said them. No regeneration of his ever liked to just wait. "They may look like clueless puppies, but griffins actually do have a vast knowledge of Space and Time. When the griffin's ready to leave, we'll leave."
"Even without the helmic regulator thing?"
"Even then. Griffins are terrific pests, because they've been doing the same thing for all of time. It'll have some notion of how to pilot the TARDIS to where it wants to go." The Doctor stared back at the griffin and sighed as the space creature curled up for a nap in its makeshift nest. "Maybe it isn't planning on going far."
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