Six hours, thirty two minutes and an estimated twelve seconds was the amount of time she had spent sitting on the stone floor, her eyes trained on the sculpture in front of her. The six hours had left her ass sore, but moving seemed like to much work and she was on her day off. And a break meant no work so there she sat, even after the museum had done the stupid twenty minutes till closing. But for her she had long forgotten about getting up, besides willingly stranding herself on the floor, Lainie was way to interested with the sculpture that was across from her. It was plain white, with light pink opal eyes. Nothing flashy like down the hall in the pacific section of the museum, with all their bright blues, reds and yellows; but something about the way it was, made her stare at it for hours. Scanning up from the feet to the eyes, she looked into them, like they were trying to tell her something, screaming about something to her. She couldn't compare the noise to anything else, it was something like an inhuman screaming, animal like, but not. There was no exact term to put on it. Closing her eyes, she put her fingers to her temples and rubbed slowly.

While dealing with the dull thud in her head from the "screaming", she never heard the footsteps make their way from down the hall. But when the footstep's owners slid down the wall in a similar fashion that she had done earlier that day, when she had found herself at a leisurely pace putting one foot in front of the other in the Greek and Roman Collection. That's what broke her out of her trance, him rudely interrupting her dissociation.

"Very pretty." the man had a english accent, not the stereotypically cockney of London that Lainie had heard a billion times in movies but an actual, realistic accent. When she turned her head to look over to the speaker, her neck screamed in agony and she let out a squeak.

"Your neck?"

"Yea." she sighed rubbing her neck, slower than the first time she looked at the man. He seemed to be like most older folks who visited museums, but unlike many of the forty somethings that she was used to getting dirty looks from, he had some rare spark of life in him, maybe it was the leather jacket.

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

"Yea."

"That all you say?"

"And some other words."

He laughed a bit "To bad they got it wrong." she turned her head at this, people for the most part just accepted the information in museums to be automatically correct and they never questioned it.

"What? The exact date or something? Wrong A.D.?" she looked at the statue again studying it to see if it was from some other classical empire.

"They're way off. It wasn't even made by the Greeks... or the Romans in fact." his voice got slightly higher in pitch at the end of the sentence.

"So its some other ancient culture?" she looked at him and saw that he was mirroring her current position.

"No, not ancient, well not something ancient from earth, but still ancient. Well actually for the Universe's standards its a baby but for earth gosh, its great aunt Beth." she smiled at his joke and he gave a small chuckle. But when she returned to looking at it, what he had said hit her.

"Your saying this isn't from earth?"

"Yup."

"And I'm just supposed to believe you?"

"Yup."

"That all you say?" she repeated his earlier sentenced. But instead of the witty remark she was expecting the man jumped up, something that was impressive from their position on the floor.

"And this is why I know that it isn't from the Romans or the Greeks, a. I helped dig up most of this junk and b. its eyes are glowing." Lainie didn't answer but stiffly made her way up, with help from the wall and limping slightly, getting her hips working again, walked over to the case that this strange man was standing in front of.

"He didn't do that before." her eyes grew wider as the eyes haze grew bright.

"I know."

"Why?" she looked at him, giving him a once over but not in the 'interested' interested manner but in the 'are you really saying that?'

"Well mostly because I know the people, well I'm using the term people very lightly very lightly, who made this little guy, not really made but there's only one reason why his eyes glow like that." he had turned to her and Lainie craned her head to look at him, she was studying his features, his face was mixed with excitement and worry.

"And that one reason is?" that wasn't much for her to go on.

"It remembers something." he looked back towards the box and started digging around in his inner coat pockets.

"That something good or bad?"

"Not really sure yet."

"And I highly doubt that the Romans made this so, what is it a hoax that the Museum bought?" maybe she would trust this guy and his ramblings about the term of people.

"No, the statue part is just a statue but, his eyes, so not from here. They're far from home..." she liked how he talked as if he was a script writer carefully choosing what word to say next, but his actions weren't as smooth.

As he brought out a blue pen light Lainie screeched, "What are you doing? Its a museum you can't just ta..." she stopped when she saw the glass case open to this man's buzzing pen and the eyes of the statue grew a brighter shade of white.

"Well I'm kind of doing this for the museums good."

"How do you know their going to appreciate it?" She could tell that he was getting a little more than frustrated with her questions and ran a hand over his head, like someone running it through hair, which he lacked.

"Lets see, lost Van Gogh painting or a statue that is going to call an alien in hibernation out of hibernation to do something on the far side of logical."

"And how do you know this? You don't look like one of those UNIT guys."

"I'm much more than a 'UNIT' guy, oh I'm so much more." the man had said this in a very serious tone with a straight in the eye look as well, which he gave while he started to struggle to pull the statue off of its base.

"And how do you know this?" she had now given up on trying to stop him from breaking how many federal art laws and had grabbed the end of the statue that gave her and unpleasant view of classical artistry at its finest, or the nether regions of this classical man.

"'Cause I'm the Doctor."