On the edge of a small river, a pair of people had set up a small camp. The camp consisted of a large blue cabinet, a round plastic table, two canvas chairs, an ornate wooden case with handles on the side, a plastic cooler, and fishing equipment.
The two campers were distinctly garbed. The first camper was a tall man with a mop of brown curls topped with an ugly tan hat covered with fishing flies. He wore a white shirt and plaid vest, while his flecked tan trousers were covered with a pair of olive hip waders. The ensemble was completed with a multicoloured scarf that was haphazardly wrapped around the man's neck and body. The second camper was a young woman dressed in a tan halter-top and short skirt made from leather. The ensemble was completed by a pair of knee-high boots and a long hunting knife.
"I think Izzac Walton would have loved this location," the man said, putting together a fly rod.
"Izzac Walton? Who is he, Doctor?"
"He wrote the Compleat Angler, Leela. I told you that while we were in London."
"The Compleat Angler," Leela replied quietly, deep in thought, "The book about fishing."
"Good. I thought this might be a nice way to relax after our last stop." The Doctor began to tie a bright red fly to his line.
"The Fendahl have been destroyed."
"Well, the supernova should have finished off what was left of it," the Doctor said, completing his knot. He held up the line to show off.
"You are actually going to hunt fish with a feather?" Leela asked, sceptically.
The Doctor smiled. "Leela, it's not a feather, it's a fly. With this fly, I'll have a nice fish supper for us in no time." The Doctor walked into the water with long, purposeful strides after removing his scarf. When he was knee high in the calm, clear water, he turned towards the centre of the wide river and began the slow, rhythmic motions of the fly-cast.
Leela squatted down on the riverbank, observing the Doctor's odd movements. To the warrior, the Doctor looked like one of the creepy mechanical men she'd seen on the Sandminer, full of stiff, jerky, yet oddly graceful movements.
The Doctor was far too deep into the rhythms of his casting to notice the intense look his companion was giving him. He felt the right moment and took his thumb off the reel. The fly sailed through the air in a lazy arc and gently plopped in the slow moving river sixty feet away.
The old movements, honed by years of practice on lakes and rivers all over the universe, took hold. The fly danced along the surface of the river, hoping to entice a fish to have a meal. The Doctor enjoyed the anticipation of the fish more than the strike itself. It was the waiting, the complex dance rituals of the fly that allowed him to drain all his troubling thoughts away.
Leela watched the Doctor raise and lower the thin pole in odd patterns while tugging on the line. For five minutes, it was raise and tug, lower and tug. To a huntress like herself, it seemed like a waste of time and effort when there were easier ways to catch a fish in the river. She decided she would give the Doctor a few more minutes before giving him a lesson of her own.
While counting the seconds in her mind. Leela felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. Instinctively, she unsheathed her knife and held it loosely in her hands, while surveying the area. Something was about to happen. Her intuitions, developed by her time with the Sevateem, hadn't failed her before. She opened her mouth to call to the Doctor, but nothing came out as she saw the water explode.
The strike nearly caused the Doctor to fall on his posterior as he saw the largemouth bass blast from the depths of the river and swallow the fly. Swiftly, he regained his balance and gave the fishing pole a sharp pull backwards, dragging the bass back into the river and setting the hook.
Switching gears, he pulled on the line to test the hook before reeling in his catch. The bass responded by swimming away from his would-be captor, taking several metres of line. With a grim smile, the Doctor wrapped the line around his hand and pulled sharply back, stopping the fish's momentum.
"Leela," the Doctor called, "bring the net out."
Leela had been awed by the sight of the flying largemouth, impressed by his strength. Hearing the Doctor's call, she ran over to the TARDIS and grabbed the pole net from the table and ran out into the water, splashing everything around her. The water was surprisingly cool, despite being in direct sunlight. She reached the Doctor in seconds, watching as her friend slowly, but steadily reeled in the fish.
"What do you want me to do with the net?" Leela shouted, caught up in the excitement of the catch for the moment.
"First thing is to not shout. The second thing is to scoop up the bass when I tell you," the Doctor replied, eyes still on his catch.
"Just tell me when," Leela replied. She stared at the section of water in front of the Doctor.
"Just a few more moments," the Doctor murmured, reeling in the bass.
Leela slipped the net into the water. The bass came into view, distorted by the refraction of light by the river. It looked like a mis-shaped log with eyes and huge slit for a mouth. With a quick forward motion, Leela slipped the net under the bass and lifted. The mass of the fish startled the warrior; it was much heavier than expected. She saw the Doctor reach into the net and pull out the fish by its lower lip.
"It's a beauty. Almost five kilograms," the Doctor said calmly. He removed the hook carefully from the bass' mouth, then placed it back in the water.
"Why did you do that, Doctor? I thought we were going to have a fish lunch," Leela asked.
"Leela, you don't have to kill the fish to enjoy being an angler."
"So, I thought the point of catching fish was eating them."
"Not necessarily. The fun is in the anticipation."
"You might be a smart man, Doctor, but you wouldn't be a great provider."
"Leela, there is life beyond basic survival needs of the tribe."
But the savage was slowly moving away from the Doctor, focusing on the river, more specifically, what was in the river.
"Leela, what are you-"
"Quiet," Leela whispered. She stopped about twenty feet upstream from the Doctor, who grabbed the net before it floated away.
She leaned forward and slipped her arms into the water up to her elbows, without disturbing the surface. Leela tuned out the natural noises of the surroundings, forgot about the Doctor, ignored everything but what she was most interested in - a foot long rainbow trout swimming around her legs. Her heartbeat slowed and her breaths shallowed as she followed the trout with her blue eyes.
For the second time in a short span, the surface of the river exploded and a fish flew through the air, courtesy of a swift cupping and lifting thrust by Leela. The trout flew through the air and landed in the net the Doctor was holding limply at his side.
Leela stood up, a smile spreading on her face.
"Show-off," the Doctor said, looking down at the trout.
Leela laughed while the Doctor freed the trout from the confines of the net.
"Where did you learn that?" the Doctor asked.
"From my father," Leela recalled with pride.
The Doctor made his way over to Leela, kicking up water and generating waves. "It seems to be a very interesting skill you have." The Doctor started rolling up sleeves.
"If you want me to teach you, you'll have to be quiet," Leela said.
"Teach me? There's nothing to teach. Anyone could do what you just did," the Doctor said pompously, sliding his long arms into the cool water of the river.
Leela didn't bother to reply. She quietly backed away from the Time Lord, taking the net with her. She watched the Doctor stare into the river, waiting for a fish to arrive.
The Doctor spotted the trout from before swimming around his legs, in the pursuit of food. He cupped his hands and waited for the right moment to strike.
Leela could have predicted what was about to happen. The Doctor's arms started to move in short jags, churning up the surface of the river. She watched him pitch forward, then reshuffle his legs, vainly trying to regain his balance while in pursuit of the elusive trout. Leela couldn't prevent herself from laughing out loud as the Doctor made a second attempt to scoop up the trout and instead lost balance a second time and crashed into the river back first, spraying water in all directions.
Flailing his arms, the Doctor came up, sans trout, or any other fish. Leela waded over to help her friend get back on his feet.
"I think you're too big to keep," Leela said. "Shall I throw you back?"
The Doctor ran a hand through his sopping wet hair and flicked the drippings at Leela. "Don't you dare say anything!" the Doctor snapped.
Leela laughed again, splashing the Doctor by slapping her hand into the river. The Doctor, catching up with the absurdity of the moment, let out a guffaw while sending back some water in the savage's direction.
For the next ten minutes, Leela and the Doctor finished soaking each other in a chaotic splash fight.
***
As the sun set over the river, Leela sat on the grass, now dressed in a black sweater and jeans, watching the Doctor sip his tea, now in a fresh set of his normal outfit.
"Leela," the Doctor said, putting his cup on the table, "I told you anyone could catch a fish that way."
"It only took fifteen tries."
"Pshaw! Only five,"
"Doctor, I kept count," Leela replied, "It was fifteen."
The Doctor started counting on his fingers. "So it was fifteen. I still caught one," he countered, pouting.
Leela stood up and stretched. "So, where do we go from here?"
"I think we'll camp here for the night," the Doctor replied. "Besides, I still have to show you how to fly fish."
"What you were doing with that pole and string."
"Yes." The Doctor took another sip of his tea. "It's more complicated than your method."
"As complicated as tea?"
The Doctor smiled. "Nothing is as complicated as tea."
