The rain drummed steadily onto the canvas of the tent, a small puddle forming in the corner where the canvas was blowing around a loose tent peg. There was something comforting about the rythym of the rain, puddles, on the other hand, were something else entirely.
To avoid the indignity of a wet sock he moved his foot, resting it on what he hoped was a sandwich.
He lay and, foot safely out of the way, listened to the rain and wind swirling around inches above him, very soothing it was too.
So soothed was he by the sounds of nature that it took him rather too long to notice that the rain had stopped, in fact if he didn't know better, he'd swear it sounded like the world had stopped out there.
From out of the silence came a wheezing, groaning sound, best described as a cow flying backwards through candy floss. His foot dropped into the puddle.
He was going to have to investigate, it was pretty much obligatory in these situations. He couldn't help feeling, though, that in the history of investigating wheezy, groanings in deserted fields that the outcome was usually less than pleasant, at best mildly shocking.
But, look he must. He unzipped the tent flaps and emerged into the fresh summer air ... to find himself looking at a battered old Police Box. Standing next to it was a tall man with shoulder length hair, wearing a frock coat. Byronesque it was called, if he remembered rightly.
The man was looking up at the sky and, seeming to notice he had company, he spoke. "Hello there, really has brightened up. Peter, isn't it?
Yes," Peter replied warily, "do I know you?"
The man smiled, "Oh not yet. But that's how all my best friendships begin."
Peter only looked sceptical, at least he hoped he did
I've been travelling alone for too long Peter, it's really time for some company. The universe isn't meant to be travelled alone."
Peter looked at the stranger and his brow wrinkled in thought. This was quite possibly the most bizarre situation you could expect in a deserted field. He had the feeling he was being abducted by aliens, but he wasn't too bothered.
With an unearthly wheezing and groaning, the TARDIS left with it's latest passenger.
***
The Doctor and Peter walked briskly along a rather gothic corridor towards a set of huge double doors. As they reached them the Doctor clapped his hands and the doors swung open. The Doctor grinned broadly, "Very effective, don't you think? Looks like magic... is in fact a small device I bought in B&Q."
But Peter wasn't listening. He was staring ahead into the room beyond. It was massive, dark and foreboding, like every scary old castle he'd ever seen in the movies but interspersed with an array of technological and mechanical devices. At the centre of the room stood a hexagonal console, a computer or something.
This is the console room," the Doctor said answering his unspoken question, "It's where I spend most of my time, and where I pilot the ship."
Peter was dumbfounded, until prompted back into reality by the Doctor, "Well, what do you think? Decorated it myself you know." Peter heard this question as if from a great distance and although his mouth opened it was a few moments before sounds emerged.
"I can't believe it! It's bigger on the inside than on the outside!" Peter exclaimed before groaning loudly, "I can't believe I just said that. You must get that all the time. Sorry..."
"Oh it's quite alright, ", came the reply, "I'm quite often amazed myself, and I helped design the things!"
Meanwhile, in a field in the middle of nowhere, the birds stopped singing. The grass swayed wildly, as did the small blue tent, apparently abandoned here only recently.
Followed by a noise like the end of the world, came a shining, long nosed space craft which landed only yards away from the, now ruined, tent.
As alien incursions go, this one attracted very little attention, despite making as much noise as a veritable herd of dustmen.
A hatch on the side of the ship slid open and, after a brief pause, out ran a squad of silver suited figures. They moved as easily and quickly as men, but men they clearly were not. A long process of progressive cybernisation had made sure of that.
The invaders swarmed on the remains of the tent, throwing it aside with no regard. One of the creatures held back and scanned the horizon, looking for something, or someone.
Having scattered or smashed everything they could, the squad moved into formation, one standing ahead of the others. Momentarily, from out of the ship there came another metallic figure, taller than the others and matt black in colour.
The leader of the squad shook his head slowly, and, without uttering a sound, his superior turned and re-entered the ship, his troops filing in behind him.
They had not found what they were looking for. It should have been here.
Peter had been living on Steram 3, the small blue jewel of it's system, for as long as he could remember, at least six months. It was pleasant enough, but he had been restless. The camping trip had been his latest attempt to find some inner calm, unfortunately it had been rather miserable all told. This, on the other hand, was more like it. He wandered the corridors of the TARDIS, what the Doctor called his craft, absorbing the wonders that consistently threatened all conventional wisdom. He stopped and peered into a room, gazing at what appeared to be a group of white, fluffy animals; they were making an almighty racket. What those were doing in here he couldn't hope to imagine.
Having had his fill of wonders for the time being, he made his way back to the console room.
Having found what he was looking for, the Doctor strode purposefully up the corridor towards the console room. He swung open the doors and stood, a beaming grin lighting up his face.
"I found it!" he exclaimed, looking for all the world like a child who expected to be congratulated on his startling ingenuity.
"Found what?" asked Peter
"My Wallace and Gromit mug, of course!"
The Doctor noticed Peter's frown of non-understanding.
"Never mind. I'll run through the essentials of that one later." he promised.
Peter's frown didn't lift.
The Doctor regarded him kindly.
"You've started to wonder what's going on, haven't you?" he asked softly
"Yes Doctor. I'm glad I came with you, but why did you come for me? It was me you were looking for, wasn't it?
"Yes Peter. You know that you're special, don't you?"
Peter looked down at his boots and sighed.
"I know I'm different." he said quietly.
"Well Peter, " the Doctor continued, "some people fear that which is different. Some of those people were looking for you because they feel threatened by your being different from them. But it is they who have the problem, they who are wrong. I came to find you because, although we look different, I believe we're much the same in all the important ways." he paused, "I can take you somewhere where everyone can feel special and no one fears being different." The Doctor watched Peter for a moment, "Somewhere the others can't find you," he concluded.
"Thank you Doctor." Peter answered in his electronically enhanced tones. He stood up and walked slowly to a mirror standing by an antique hat stand.
"I know I'm different from most people Doctor, but I think I can be happy all the same."
The Doctor looked on fondly as Peter approached the mirror.
"Yes, I'm sure you can be."
Peter looked into the mirror, examining the shining silver of his body, topped by his metallic face, and smiled.
