Of all the ways to be woken up, Amy thought, this had to be one of the worst.

She rolled out of bed as the TARDIS dropped like an elevator with its cables cut and then rose again just as she hit the floor, causing her to lose what little remained of her dignity and plant her on her backside with her hair hanging in her eyes. She blew a strand off her lip, swore clearly and precisely and then staggered to her feet in search of Rory, following the distinct yelp she'd heard from the bathroom.

She found him on his back in the bathtub with his legs waving desperately, and quickly surmised from the foam in his hair – and on the mirror, the shower curtain and the ceiling - that he'd been shaving when the turbulence hit.

"Are you okay?" she asked, as she grabbed Rory's arm and hauled him upright, where he blinked and struggled out of the tub without answering her. Only when he'd managed to stand upright and reassure himself he was going to stay that way did he stare at her, his lower lip flapping for a second.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know, do I? Let's go and find out what he's playing at. Come on," she said, decisively, and then, grabbing him by the elbow, ushered him out of the door.

It wasn't until they reached the console room that it occurred to Amy that she was still in her pyjamas, but the Doctor merely looked up, gave her a bright little grin without removing his hands from the controls and then looked down again with a furrow in his brow. The TARDIS was still weaving and rolling like a ketch on the high seas, but the motion was manageable and she staggered along the ramp to the console, tugging Rory behind her.

"Come on, old girl, straighten up. You've had worse," muttered the Doctor, flipping a lever back with no apparent effect, then tutting gently and trying another. This seemed to work, and after one last lurch, the TARDIS settled down and picked up its usual contented humming instead.

"What was that all about?" Amy demanded, her hands on her hips, but her ire didn't make a dent in the Doctor's remaining preoccupation, and he ignored her question for a moment as he pulled out a magnifying glass and studied a screen at close quarters. Finally he sighed, straightened up and smiled at her.

"Don't really know," he said, pocketing the magnifying glass once more and straightening the line of his jacket. "Haven't hit a pocket of turbulence like that since the last time I was in E-Space. Are you all right?"

Amy started to answer, but the Doctor wasn't looking at her; he was patting the console solicitously, and she shut her mouth again, moderately offended.

"Well, we've landed, anyway," said Rory, checking his balance once more and then feeling for the slight lump on the back of his head from his mishap in the bathroom. "Shall we see what's out there?"

"No-oooo," said the Doctor, slowly and thoughtfully, stuffing his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels for a second. "First things first, before we do anything I think you two should get dressed. You're not allowed to go wandering around the universe in your jim-jams unless you're Arthur Dent, I'm afraid. I'll find out when and where we are and then we'll see about poking our heads out the door for a bit, yes?"

It was a blindingly logical plan of action, and Amy couldn't find fault with it, much as she wanted to; the Doctor's seeming indifference to her welfare was still smarting. She simply snorted and stalked back to the bedroom in search of some more socially acceptable clothing. After a slightly apologetic glance in the Doctor's direction, Rory trailed after her.

The Doctor was wearing sunglasses when they returned, which threw Amy a little. He was still smiling, although she knew enough by now to know that the Doctor's smile wasn't exactly the most reliable barometer, considering that she'd seen him on several occasions grinning like a lunatic even while people were in the middle of trying to kill him. She fixed on the sunglasses instead.

"Sunny out, is it?"

"Oh yes," said the Doctor. "Nice and sunny, twenty-six degrees, blue skies." His voice was perfectly cheerful, but there was the tiniest note of evasion in his tone, and Amy wasn't fooled for a moment.

"Where are we?" she said, carefully, folding her arms.

"Israel," said the Doctor, and now his smile was definitely looking a little wobbly around the edges.

What year?"

"1948," he replied, in a slightly strained voice.

"What month?" asked Rory, moving past Amy to confront the Doctor.

"May," said the Doctor.

Two crowded seconds passed, at the end of which Rory was on the far side of the console room, his back pressed up against the doors and his hair in wild disarray. Amy stared at him and made to cross the room, but he raised a finger in her direction, his hand noticeably shaking.

"You're not going out there and that's final," he said, severely. "And you," he went on, turning that finger on the Doctor now and waggling it threateningly, "are going to get us out of here immediately. You've landed us in the middle of a war zone!"

"Oh, don't be such a big old fusspot," said the Doctor, mildly, sauntering down the ramp to the doors and taking off his sunglasses as he went. He pressed his ear to the door and motioned to Rory to do the same. "Now," he said, "can you hear anything?"

"No," Rory admitted, after a decent interval and the smallest of eye rolls.

"No bangs, booms or ghastly screams?"

"Not as such, no."

"Can't be that bad out there then, can it?" said the Doctor, treating him to a reassuring smile. "Wars don't go on all the time, you know. They've probably stopped for a cup of tea, or to go to the loo, or something like that. Besides, I've already had a little wander around out there," he went on, starting to open the door. "Nobody around but a few birdies singing their little hearts out. We're up on a hill with a lovely view of the lake."

Rory took a moment to process this, but when he'd done so, he turned and slammed the door once more, leaning on it.

"That's the Sea of Galilee and we're in the Golan Heights!" he warbled.

"Goodness," said the Doctor, apparently entirely unaffected by this information. "You do know your onions, don't you?"

"Yeah, and obviously you don't," replied Rory, sourly, still keeping his shoulder pressed against the door.

Amy had had enough. She squared her shoulders and stepped between the two men, giving each of them a cool glance apiece. She lingered on Rory, though, and pressed a hand to his chest, moving him away from the door.

"While I'm flattered you're being charmingly over-protective, my darling," she said, watching him wince a little at her choice of words, "I'd actually like to see a little bit of sunshine and get some fresh air. You heard what the Doctor said, it's all quiet out there. Nothing to worry about."

"There's always something to worry about," said Rory, darkly, looking past her shoulder at the Doctor for a second.

"So stay here and worry about it," she said, tweaking his nose affectionately and then pulling the door open. He watched her stroll out into the brilliant sunshine, the breeze stirring her hair, and then turned a vaguely resigned expression on the Doctor before following her.

Amy, meanwhile, had found herself on the edge of a low escarpment covered in fresh spring grass and patches of low scrub, looking out over a perfectly calm stretch of blue sea. There were sea-birds circling overhead in wide, lazy sweeps, mere black curves against the bright sky, piping now and then. It was almost impossibly peaceful, so she wondered for a second why some extra sense was nagging at her to turn around and sprint back to the TARDIS. She ignored it with an effort of will, and turned to Rory and the Doctor as they joined her on the cliff.

"There's a war going on?" she said. "You'd never believe it, would you?"

"Just started a couple of days ago," said the Doctor. "I checked the chronometer. This is a brand new country, still got the shine on it. Pretty, isn't it?"

"That's not going to last, though," said Rory, almost absently, gazing out over the sea.

"What does?" asked the Doctor, though he spoke lightly.

"Isn't there anything we can do?" said Amy, more for something to break the sudden, velvet silence than for any other reason. The Doctor gave her a fond look and a raised eyebrow.

"To stop the war? Oh, Pond," he said, only gently reproving, "you know we can't mend this. Only they can," he added, pointing out over the sea to a distant brown smudge on the horizon, which she took to be a town. Which one, she didn't know; her command of geography was admittedly shaky.

"Er. Amy..." said Rory, tugging at her sleeve. She didn't respond for a second. She was still gazing at that faraway town, wondering what it was called.

"Amy," repeated Rory, and now his voice was distinctly hoarse. It wasn't until the Doctor leaned in to speak into her ear that she pulled her attention away from the town.

"That's Nazareth," he said, quietly. "And now I've satisfied your evident curiosity, I think it might be best if you turn around very slowly. Sudden moves are not an awfully good idea at this time. Yes?"

While his tone was still just as soothing as always, his voice was quite flat, and communicated more than enough healthy concern to get through to her. She did as he'd urged, raising her hands to shoulder height and turning gently on her axis until she was looking back at the TARDIS. Between it and them there now stood a small squad of soldiers in khaki. Their caps were pulled down to shield their faces against the sun, making their eyes hard to read, but their expressions were clearly not of the friendly and accommodating kind. This was just a minor detail, though; Amy had already realised that this was not a welcoming committee when she spotted the heavy black guns trained on the three of them. She cleared her throat nervously, but it was the Doctor who spoke up first.

"Hello," he said, brightly. "I'm the Doctor, and this is Amy and Rory. Lovely country you have here, absolutely delightful, it really is." He paused for a fraction of a second, then rallied. "Anyway, I know this is a dreadful cliché and trust me, I don't like it any more than you do, but I wonder if you'd be kind enough to take us to your leader...?"