It's Not Stalking

Song

A History of Archeological Thought.. Archeology; Theories, Methods, Practices.. Where had that Archeology for Dummiesgone? She sighed and leant back in her chair, looking up at the great polished dome of the library ceiling. When she'd had the brilliant idea to study archeology, essentially track the Doctor through time, River had always thought it would be like those movies that Amy loved when they were little. Indiana Jones; the precious artifacts, bad guys and running away from boulders. Unfortunately, it wasn't.

It was mostly swotting up for exams. It wasn't always this ass numbingly boring. Sometimes she found paintings or words that made her jump up or shout a little. Usually small blue rectangles and screwdrivers. It was an odd life, sure, but it was better than tracking him down and killing him.

Save that for next week.

No, for today, River was content to search for his clever face and ignore the work that was due in a week. She knew she'd ace the class anyway, her teacher had a thing for charming, gorgeous liars. Everyone has a thing for charming, gorgeous liars.

She pushed away the textbooks and pulled out a small old book, the leather bound pages being a scientific terra journal she'd stolen a few weeks ago. She scanned for those words; TimeLord. Blue Box. Two Hearts. The Doctor.The book was writtenwritten on Earth in the early 22nd Century and he had to crop up here somewhere. He was practically consistent in his visits throughout 2000-2200 Earth.

But that was the problem with the Doctor, he was persistently everywhere in every time and yet never where you expect him.

The cleaners had started whirling around her, cleaning away trash and wiping down tables. It wasn't until one fairly human looking guy starting vacuuming and whistling that River snapped. "Must you be so rude?" She tittered at him, "This is a library. I'm trying to work."

"So am I." His thick accent argued, purposely pushing his vacuum towards her. The accent was familiar, but River couldn't place it.

Rather than get into a fight with the cleaning staff, River buried her head into her book again with a scowl and tried to block out the noise. It was working until the rude old man started driving the hoover into her bloody chair leg. "Are you serious?" River exclaimed, standing and almost knocking the chair over the noisy machinery.

The cleaner had the cheek to smile and River had to hold her temper back. She'd already been given a few warnings for some.. Unfortunate incidents. Closing her books and piling them up, River headed for the door, she could finish it up in her bedroom, return the books another day. Maybe.

"Hey!" That accent called after her. What now? "Come back! I've just cleaned this floor and you just leave your scrappy bits of paper everywhere. I'm sure not picking it up."

Dropping her books by the door River smiled. Not a nice smile, not warm or sexy. It was curled up and tight against her face. "Of course." She answered, walking over and bending to pick up the offending item. "Its not mine." She said, a little confused but altogether too annoyed to actually care about the small folded bit of white paper.

"It fell out of your book, I saw it." The cleaner called from across the room having moved on to a different section of the library.

Reluctantly she unfolded the paper. It was cheap, nothing fancy, and the handwriting was messy. '3278 3280 3291. You're welcome.' Frowning, River tucked the paper in her pocket and made her way out of the library.

She was halfway back to her dorm when it clicked. River dropped the books in her arms and picked up the old journal she'd stolen. Page numbers. Someone was telling her which pages to look at.

3278. ..He said he was from Gallifrey, my partner thought it was somewhere in the middle east. I disagreed..
3280. ..a bow tie. That's all she said, he was wearing a bow tie and a rather manic grin..
3291. ..he did it. He stopped the things- the Axons. He rescued us. The man in the police box.

"Yes!" River cried, clutching the book to her chest and all but dancing the rest of the way to her room, textbooks forgotten. River barely gave second thought to whom the note was from, but maybe that was for the best.