Storm: Storm is Brewing

The Lodger

Terry stumbled as she landed, looking around in confusion as she heard the Tardis wheezing.

"Doctor?" She asked, turning to look just as the Tardis seemingly appeared... and then dematerialized again.

"Doctor?" She wondered, staring as the Tardis disappeared. Had... she just been left stranded? No, Terry realized as she looked around at the small British town she found herself in.

'I'll just go check if there's that advertisement for a flat mate.' Terry thought to herself as she started off down the street. 'Hopefully, I'm right about where and when I think I am.'

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Craig's flat

"Oh, that was incredible." Craig said in appreciation as he set his polished plate down on the coffee table, having demolished the omelet the Doctor had whipped up for them.

The Doctor just sat casually in the armchair while Craig settled into his sofa as he said to the Doctor: "That was absolutely brilliant. Where did you learn to cook?"

"Paris, in the... eighteenth century." The Doctor replied, frowning slightly as he corrected quickly: "No, hang on, that's not recent, is it? Seventeenth?"

Craig gave him a funny look as the Doctor quickly amended: "No, no, no. Twentieth. Sorry, I'm not used to doing them in the right order."

Craig stared at him for a moment, before he asked bluntly: "Has anyone ever told you that you're a bit weird?"

The Doctor smiled slightly as he replied: "They never really stop."

He then sniffed, and asked as he switched topics: "Ever been to Paris, Craig?"

"Nah." Craig answered as he set his head back against his sofa. "I can't see the point of Paris. I'm not much of a traveller."

"I can tell from your sofa." The Doctor observed, and Craig looked down in surprise as he repeated in confusion: "My sofa?"

"You're starting to look like it." The Doctor pointed out bluntly.

Craig looked back at the Doctor incredulously, laughing without humour as he said sarcastically: "Thanks, mate, that's lovely. No, I like it here."

Craig began to fidget with the pink keys in his hands as he continued while looking around his flat fondly: "I'd miss it, I'd miss-"

"Those keys." The Doctor interjected.

Craig turned to him in surprise, asking: "What?"

"You're sort of... fondling them." The Doctor observed, and Craig quickly dropped them as he protested: "I'm holding them."

"Right." The Doctor muttered, while Craig said quickly as he got up: "Anyway. These," he grabbed another set of keys from the decorative bowl near his flat entrance, "these are your keys."

He dangled the keys before the Doctor, who brightened as he asked: "I can stay?"

He got up to face Craig once more, while the man chuckled: "Yeah, you're weird and you can cook. It's good enough for me. Right."

He held up each individual key as he explained: "Outdoor, front door, your door."

"My door." The Doctor repeated excitedly as he took the keys. "My place. My gaff. Ha ha! Yes. Me with a key."

The Doctor beamed, and Craig raised his brows before shrugging off the Doctor's eccentricity.

"And listen," Craig added instead in a serious voice, "Mark and I, we had an arrangement where if you ever need me out of your hair, just give me a shout, okay?"