Fenn dragged the Doctor onto the street outside, which was populated by a few shops and a tavern at the end. There was barely anyone around- it was mid-morning on a weekday, so most of the town's population were out doing their respective jobs. Fenn pulled the Doctor down the street until they reached a small, cramped, European-style townhouse, squashed between a tailor's and a bookstore. She unlocked the door quickly, while the Doctor stood sheepishly behind her, wondering what in the world was going on. They stepped quickly through the door, into the dark, cool hallway beyond.
"Wait in the study; I'll be there in a minute."
The Doctor wandered into the room, and almost fell over with surprise. It was a room with a vaulted ceiling, and a beautiful, old wooden desk in the middle. But that wasn't the best bit. Every inch of every wall was covered in books- stacks upon stacks of books of every kind, shape and genre. Some looked old, older than him even, and some had the shiny, glossy covers of newly printed special editions fresh out of distinguished universities. He saw the Oxford standard dictionaries; a whole shelf had been dedicated to them, the editions ranging from about the fifth ever printed to the latest copy. There were works by Homer, Shakespeare's complete collection, books on the French revolution, Chinese books on meditation and medicine- even Arabic books from the reign of the Ottoman Empire in Istanbul. There was also fiction- Harry Potter, Eragon, the Lord of the Rings trilogy and extensions, even the Redwall series by Brian Jacques. It was a veritable goldmine of books- a fair contender for the TARDIS's section on Earth literature. He gazed around, wondering how in the world this mysterious young archivist had gotten hold of all of these treasures. He walked along the walls, running his fingers slowly over the embossed titles, amazed at the age and quality of them. He felt completely at home here- this was the world of a scholar.
"Do you like my collection?" Fenn had returned from whatever she had been doing, and was now leaning against the door.
"It's brilliant! How did you get all of these?"
"Some of them I inherited from my parents- most of them I bought at auctions or bookstores."
"That would have cost a lot of money, to buy all of these."
She sighed, "It did. Some of these are worth close to a million dollars on their own."
She walked up to the desk and collapsed into the chair behind it, gesturing that he be seated in one of the two Victorian-style chairs opposite. He sat, still gazing at the thousands of titles winking down at him from the shelves. He looked at her quickly, sitting in her high-backed mahogany chair, suddenly suspicious.
"How would someone your age have enough money to buy all of these?"
She laughed, "You're not as perceptive as I'd imagined you'd be. I inherited a lot of money from my parents."
He cocked an eyebrow, "Inherited?"
She looked down sadly, as if trying not to think about something, "They died, about five years ago now. Car accident."
"Were you there?"
"No, I was at university, in a lecture."
"Oh," he looked at her, feeling, to his surprise, profound pity for this strange young scholar, "I'm sorry."
"Yeah," she sniffled, wiping her nose, "so am I."
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and Fenn rose to get it, still sniffling slightly. She returned a few moments later with another girl, who looked slightly older than her- twenty-five, maybe? - With a mop of curly brown hair that struck him as almost identical to that of his own fourth incarnation. She wore a pair of red converse shoes exactly like his own, a yellow jumper and a pair of light blue jeans.
He stood up, extending his hand to greet her.
When she saw him, she let out a high pitched squealing noise not unlike a kettle boiling so fast that it cannot release steam. She ran towards him and launched herself on him, hugging him so tightly that he found it hard to breathe. When she finally released him, he collapsed back into the chair gasping for breath while the girl stood above him, grinning. Fenn sat her down in the other chair, muttering something that sounded like "Should've known... straight jacket... hurt my ears... squeeing..."
The girl seemed to deflate visibly under these mutters, and sat down obediently whilst Fenn sat opposite, though she was still watching the Doctor with an enthusiasm that he wasn't sure he liked.
Fenn spoke, "Sorry about that, Doctor. Hannah doesn't know when to restrain herself." She turned to the girl, Hannah, "Is it him?"
Hannah nodded, eyeing the Doctor like a juicy apple, "Oh, it's him alright."
"Well then," Fenn got up and brought a wooden box over from the shelves, sitting it on her desk, "Doctor, I have something to show you."