Date in the Desert [for bowtimeandspace]

[songofsong]

The darkened Egyptian streets were lit only by the gleaming orb of the full moon and its sisterhood of stars. Long shadows were cast along the narrow alleyways, occasional torches flickering their flames in doorways of the yellowed mud-brick buildings. The streets were hushed with activity, for night had fallen and those sensible enough had

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[bowtimeandspace]

Apparently, there was a thing.

Which really, was great. The Doctor loved things. Especially things that were wrong.

And this, well, this was wrong.

History was wrong.

History was wrong because something was happening that never happened. Time had been rerwritten and nobody seemed to notice. Nobody except him, of course. Because there was something there now in the past. Something in Egypt in 1922 that had never been there before, and something that was making people disappear.

How could he possibly stay away?

And so the Doctor took himself there, parking and hiding the TARDIS behind a stall full of silks, and made his way, screwdriver and thingimy in hand, to find out what was going on.

[songofsong]

There was a knock upon River's door and she quickly covered up the case that would look very out of place in 20th century Egypt. She shoved it under her bed and hid it with the covers, turning to go and answer the door. The businessman had arrived.

Osahar skulked into the tiny quarters, reaching almost six foot, easily double the width of River. He smiled in a manner that was anything but.

"You have a proposition, Amunet?" he questioned, closing the door behind him.

Fifteen minutes later, River was pulling herself out of the tall narrow window at the back of her room. Osahar had fallen with the sound of many men and had in no doubt attracted attention from others. Wrapping her shawl over her face, River sprinted off into the night, her case swinging gently against her hip as she ran.

[bowtimeandspace]

The Doctor stalked along the streets, looking for he wasn't sure what. Whatever it was though, he was sure he'd find out. He usually did, he was quite good like that.

He walked into a series of stalls, stopping to talk to people who were either utterly baffled with him, or incredibly eager to get him to purchase their wares.

"Ooh that's a lovely watch... face... thing... you've got," he said to one of them, trying to purchase it and somehow managing to exchange it for a fluff covered jammy dodger from his pocket.

A few more stalls down and he started correcting the hieroglyphs on a cartouche.

It was almost as though he'd forgotten why he was there. He hadn't of course. And the various things he was pocketing, weren't just shopping.

[songofsong]

A few streets further along and River ducked into an alleyway to buy herself a breather. She pressed her back to the wall, still feeling the lingering heat from the daytime sun warm her back through her clothes. Her shawl had almost fallen from her head when she sprinted and she took a moment to carefully adjust the material, covering the hint of blonde curls that threatened to ruin her disguise. Being a woman got her attention enough, but the oddity of blonde hair was far more eye-catching to the population of Cairo.