The Lone Angel

Meanwhile, on Earth.

A woman, leaning over some papers on her desk, scribbled away. Her writing was sketchy and the blue ink tended to smudge, not drying on command. She frowned, the weather was so warm that it wasn't surprising, but it was still annoying. The ink lay wet on her hand, her smooth skin now blemished. Sighing loudly, her hand reached for a tissue, which then wiped her brow and took the ink away.

Blue eyes looking up, she took a break from her paperwork. Filling out all the details for her last few patients was proving to be tough, a lot had to be written down. Changes in their behavior, their replies and just general notes for the practice at West Side. She blinked, the light against the sign on her dark oak desk catching her eyes. The brunette took her hair and tucked it behind her ear, picking up the sign. Reading it to herself, she smiled.

Mrs. L. Lent, Psychologist.

The surname made her grin flicker up wards, as she placed it back on the desk and let herself slip back into her huge leather chair. The ring on her finger twinkled a little in the light, gaining admiration and bringing back happy memories. Her expression did not fade as she became lost in her head, playing back her favorite scenes of her life. She was so involved, that she didn't notice her door opening, and a man walking in with a pile of papers in his arms.

He was a tall man, a couple of inches taller than her, and with matching blue eyes. His hair was slightly messy, the sandy blond sticking out in odd places due to work. His shirt was creased, the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. He too was feeling the heat. However, the white scars all over his arms were quite strange, as if they did not fit with him.

But, they were simply ignored as he wandered over to the desk, placed the papers down and gave a small wave to the woman in chair. She took no notice. He raised an eyebrow comically, stroked his stubble and walked behind the chair, slipping his arms round it and onto her shoulders. He gave them a small massage, and let her come round, speaking to her.

"Oh, back now are we sweetheart? Hello baby."

She gave a squeak, meriting a laugh from the man behind her. Her head spun round, only to see the ring on his finger and she started to feel relaxed again. The woman put her hand on his and replied.

"Don't do that Nicky, you keep scaring me. But, hi anyway."

He couldn't help but smile at his nickname, replying to her. The man didn't taunt her, merely mocked her in the friendliest manner.

"Well, maybe if you stopped daydreaming at your desk, I wouldn't scare you...as much. Now, can I have my medication please? I've given you paperwork in exchange, is that fair?"

Mrs. Lent tilted her head up, to meet her husband eyes, with a very unhappy expression.

"No- I'm just kidding. I suppose it's not your fault for the paper work, you're just the messenger. But, yes, you can have your medication. I'm glad you remembered this time, usually I have to come and tell you."

He gave a small frown, looking slightly hurt.

"Considering he outcome of my last... turn... I think it'd be best if I kept up with the tablets."

She looked away from him, the strain on their relationship showing. They both bore uncomfortable expressions, at the memory of the said event. That was the real difficulties they faced, his disorder had become quite violent, his turns getting worse each time. It was like, something had triggered it, somewhere, but neither had any idea of what it was.

Letting go of her husbands hand, she slipped it into her desk and took out a large tablet, checking her watch. Handing it over to him, he took it in his palm and walked out, not saying a word to her as he left. She looked hurt herself, but knew he was in no mood for it now. He had an hour for a lunch break and it would all be spent just trying to ground himself from taking his pill. She'd got him the highest legal dosage and it turned him into a foul tempered man in that hour between it being taken and it finally working. She had nothing but pity for her husband, and wished that she could sit with him for that hour, without being on the receiving end of another-

She stopped thinking, going back to her papers and the new stack. As she started to write again, she only hoped the tablet would work and quicker than normal. She hated to see her husband suffer so much.

A little known fact about the weeping angels is that although they are quantum locked, frozen in time, their mind is kept active in a quite inexplicable manner. Efnysien was fully aware of his frozen state. And despite his stone eyes and ears, he was able to discern the whine of the Tardis' engine, and the squishy sound of a mans footsteps against the salfa moss illuminating the cave floor.

And then he felt it. The Doctors presence. How he craved to be free of the quantum lock to take his revenge against the timelord who destroyed his brothers and sisters! Efnysien could smell him, his lifespan, the years he had left, and raged at the injustice.

While inside the red phone box mumbles were heard and slight snoring from under the console, a red light started up making a loud noise "What.. what is it?" the ginger haired man asked his box knowing that his TARDIS was saying something to him, a low hum came from the screen "nice way to wake me..." he was about to finish when he looked round he wasn't in his TARDIS for starters... this is lovely he thought "maybe a little warning next time" he told himself knowing it wouldn't happen.

A cave nearby he wandered what he was up to or what he was doing for starters not that he really cared why he kept disappearing somewhere else and he could always find his way back so he just went on to take a look he wasn't going anywhere.