Life in Britain in the 20th Century was... unexpected. Of course, Victoria knew things would be different, but everything was so radically changed, that it was so very hard to adjust without making some terrible temporal mistakes. Take school, for example. In her own time, she had private tutors, and they focussed on important things she might need to know, like history, music, and so forth. In this new world, she had to attend a school... with boys!... and they expected her to learn things she would never have ever expected to use in her original life. Home economics - how to cook - would never have been the purview of a lady who could afford servants. And the science and history were all so changed. It was a struggle. As were friendships.

She had friends, of course, but she was so different to them, she often felt like an outsider. And they thought she was quite peculiar. The clothes, the idiom, the interests in pop music, films, and (again) boys - they were utterly alien to her experience. Which is why she often found herself seeking some time to be alone between classes.

She had found a nice little spot where she could eat her lunch, technically out of bounds on the school grounds, but it was near a nice willow tree. She could sit on a little bench with a book, and eat, and have those few moments of solitude, which were an oasis in a day filled with school, then home. She liked her new family, but there was never a great deal of privacy in these modern houses. So unlike the very large home she had grown up in, where it might be possible to go all day and not see anybody else at all.

It was, therefore, a little vexing when her moment of peace was interrupted by the sudden flash of light, and a brilliant white and swirling vortex opened a few feet away. It hung in the air in a manner that would attract all sorts of unwanted questions.

Bother!  She had just settled with her cucumber sandwich, her thermos of tea (of all modern things, the bottle that kept things hot was her favorite) and her book (Three Men in a Boat [To Say Nothing of the Dog]) beneath the beautiful willow tree, when this swirling vortex thing appeared.  Just the sight of it made her shiver.  Had she not given all of that up when she left The Doctor and Jamie?

"Phoo!  Go away, you dreadful thing," she stated firmly, not moving.  She carefully wrapped her sandwich and placed it, the thermos and the book in her lunch bag, which she sat on her lap.  "Go Away, I say!  I wish nothing to do with you!" she cried, her voice rising a bit in fear as she stared at it.

Now, anyone watching would wonder at a girl chastising a swirling vortex as if it were alive.  But then again, Victoria had seen things stranger than this before.  And it both annoyed and frightened her that some such would appear near her in this quiet place she had chosen.

"Please?  Just go away," she entreated, now growing more frightened, her hands clenching her bag as she edged to the end of the bench to perhaps run away, if she could...

The swirly vortex seemed steadfastly unwilling to just go away.

After a moment, there was a buzzing, whistling noise, and then a pop, and someone coughing. They had a broad East London accent. It sounded a bit far off. "Cor blimey, what a lash up, it's a bleedin' miracle it works... hang on, it's live..." The voice got louder then. "Sorry, sorry, luv, bit of a flap on. Just need to check, you're Victoria Waterfield, right? Got to be sure, don't want to grab the wrong person. Boss would do 'is nut! I fink I got it right. Victoria Waterfield, England, Earth, 1960s... yeah, must be! Nah, sorry to intrude on yer noshin' down a sarnie - cor, I ain't 'alf peckish, that's regeneration for yer - but we sort of need yer to hop into this special temporal vortex thing. It's a lot easier than doin' this remote, like, and we don't even know if the technology will work much longer. So, 'ow about it, then? There's trifle!"

There was a pause, and a sigh. "I could murder a bowl of trifle. Wiv them crunchy ballbearings on. Can't get 'em outside of Earth. Nowhere else invented crunchy ballbearings. Humans, eh? Wot a lark!"

As evil alien menaces went, it was deciedly unthreatening. He sounded more like a bad music hall comic than an evil mastermind. It was very seldom one met a kidnapper bent on universal domination who also offered bowls of dessert as an incentive.

The young woman hadn't moved any further, but her eyes were just as wide as she tried to comprehend the clearly East End accent.

"Yes, good sir, I am Miss Waterfield.  Who are you?  Who is this... this 'Boss?'  Is it the Doctor?  If so, you much know that I do not wish to travel anymore..."  She paused.  Did she not want to travel?  Living in the 20th Century was not the gift she thought it, and yet... facing Daleks and Cybermen did not seem to be a good future either.  So, who was this funny man?

"Again, who are you, and what do you wish with me?  I am not sharing my lunch, and I am not wishing to travel through time and space.  I am most apologetic, but I do not wish to... to leave."

"I know, I know, but this is special circumstances, innit?" The voice remarked, with some sympathy. "I din't want ter get involved either, but the boss... not one to take no for an answer. And he's all right. He's sort of the living embodiment of good, right? No worries with 'im. But yeah, the Doctor. He's in a right state, and so are the rest of us. Someone gone and kidnapped him outta time, see? And that puts the kybosh on pretty much everyone, everywhere, innit? We're tryin' to collect up the best friends he had to see if they can help us work out who took him, where, when, how and all that. Kind of. Bit metaphysical, being taken outta time. So anyways, if you could hop into me temporal portal so we can get started findin' him again, that'd be champion. Coz we prob'ly got very little time left. For anyfink. Don't want the universe to stop existin' and all that while we discuss the merits of a decent butty and a cup of rosie, right?"

She was still frowning, which she reminded herself was not at all a good thing to do.  A young lady should not frown, else she might gather lines on her face that were most unbecoming.  So, she endeavored to adopt a more neutral expression.

"So this is about the Doctor?  But why send... I mean, why you?  You are not, if I might note, a man of the sort that would be sent to me.  I do understand you, but even Jamie had a better command of the Queen's English.  Are you stating that I must accompany you, a total stranger, in this portal, in order to assist the Doctor and save the Universe?  How might I know that you are speaking the truth?"

Still holding her bag, she stood, one hand on her hip, trying to look as pensive as a young woman might try to be.

"Um, good question..." The voice said, thoughtfully. Then there was some whispering, the other voice indistinct. "What...? You got to be... Nah... Blimey, the things I 'ave to do round 'ere..."

There was a moment's pause, and a rather embarrassed whistling. The person behind the vortex whistled out "Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star" rather badly - but it was undoubtedly that tune. Maybe he just had no ear for music. Or odd lips.

"Does that mean anyfink?"

If possible, her eyes widened more.  She could hear him, with that little recorder of his.  Her Doctor.  Reminding her that he was himself, and not Salamander.  "Yes, it is familiar to me.  Are you here to take me to him?"

She stood, smoothing her too-short skirt, still holding her bag to her bosom.  "You are an odd little man, to be sure, but so was he.  If you are here to take me to him, then I will go."

Gingerly, she held out her hand.

"Yup. It won't take a moment!" The voice said cheerfully. And then the portal flowed over Victoria. It tingled. And she went.... swwiirrrllyyyyy...

She reappeared in a featureless room with pale pinkish grey walls. There was one door. And absolutely no sign of anybody or anything else, not even an odd little man with a bad accent.

But there was the smell of food. And, almost imperceptibly, harp music.

OOC: Please move to HQ: Zero