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The areas turned out to be residential, and every home Leah tried had a personal computer. None, however, had any electricty coming into their (twin round pin) mains sockets, so trying to find people online was out, even if she could use a foreigncomputer with no access software.

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So instead she started collecting batteries and settled down in one of the more secure first floor flats to pull apart a hifi system and construct a useable Short Wave radio. This she tuned through miles of thick white noise while adding a transmitter.

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The morse code transmitter is easy. It's a few days and a lot of cannibalised electrical appliances before she perfects a battery powered motion device that will keep the SOS code on a loop on a fixed frequency, but she manages that.

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That channel stays open while she starts building a new radio.

[OOC: very much open, but please do not tag if your character would be able to locate and rescue Leah. I want to keep her lost for a while]

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"I'll keep this channel open," she says. "Call me whenever - even if it's only to hear another voice."

The Doctor knows from experience what its like to be left alone with yourself, and wouldn't wish it on anyone else, if she could help it.

"I could set up to broadcast music on another channel, if you'd like."

"Wouldn't say no to some Tchaikovsky," Leah admits. "Anything but the Nutcracker. And hey - if you have Blizzard of Oz I'd love you forever.

"Oh hey, do you have the current time on GMT plus one? I wanna set my watch."

"I can do that," the Doctor says with a chuckle. Most music she has, the rest can be acquired.

"And the time is nineteen thirty-three and six - seven - eight - nine - ten seconds."

"Brilliant," Leah says, setting her braille watch quickly. "What time'a year d'you reckon it is?"

If she can estimate sunset and rise times, she can switch to a nocturnal lifestyle. it might be safer.

"Early summer, by the weather," the Doctor says. "In Europe."

"Right," Leah says, "so assuming I am in Europe, that's another two hours til sunset. Brilliant, cheers."

She grins to herself and leans back, happy.

"So, Doc. Tell me about yourself."

"You're welcome," the Doctor says.

There's a brief pause.

"Well - you seem to know who I am," she says, dryly. "I'm the thirteenth of my selves in my own time-line, and the first woman. I have met some of my alternate selves who have been female earlier but in my case it didn't come about until I was fairly comprehensively killed. My assistant peculated that it was a way around the restriction on regenerations."

"Does the other yous have the same voice?" Leah asks, cheekily.

Hell, she's stuck in a strange world with very little hope of rescue soon. She's going to flirt.

"Cause I'm tellin' ya, I could listen to yours all day."

That earns her a musical chuckle.

"No, she's rather different - one of those dark fascinating types. I'm more your upper-class totty."

Flirting is always good.

"Call me whenever you like. Ask prettily and I might read you stories."

"Oh man, don't make that offer unless you'll commit," Leah says. "I'm gonna be missing my talking books soon enough."

"Hm."

That sound is the verbal equivalent of a shrug.

"I've retired from saving the universe," she says, "I can spare some time."

"Brilliant," Leah says. "I never got the hang of retirement, myself."

"It's only an official retirement," she says wryly. "Things keep going wrong, I keep getting drafted in to help. Nothing much has really changed."

Beat.

"Aside from having boobs."

Leah laughs.

"Oh man, boobs change everything. My dad was just teaching me archery when my puberty kicked in."

"Ouch." The wince is definitely audible.

"I hope you didn't take the route of the Amazons?" Because to spoil a fine bosom would be a crime.

"Ha!" Leah laughs. "No, I just switched to crossbows and slingshots for my main weapon. Luckily nothing got too big."

"Sensible sentiment," the Doctor says, approvingly.

There is a pause, and then a curious question.

"You're from a fairly advanced Earth I'm guessing, from the Morse code. And yet you were trained using bow weapons? Do you mind me asking why?"

The pause is repeated as Leah mulls this over. She's not used to inter-acting with many people outside her community, and has to make a decision about what to say.

She settles on, "My Dad's William Creswick. Does that mean anything to you?"

There's a pause, and then the answer.

"No, it doesn't. Aside from an actor who died in 1888, who I doubt you mean."

"Really not," Leah agrees.

"Nah, he's just a big weapons buff, and passed it on. I've got background in near any ranged weapon you'd care to name. Really, I always regretted there not being an Olympic category for the slingshot."

That gets an amused chuckle, although the Doctor is pretty convinced that she's not being told everything - but hey. She wouldn't tell a stranger her darkest secrets. hell, everyone knows who the Doctor is - but she's not going to give away anything that isn't common knowledge.

"Fair enough," comes the reply. "There is for archery, though - did you ever compete?"

"Nah," Leah says. "Not my thing, really. Spotlight, attention, stupid trophies. It's just a hobby to me."

Well, sort of. Now. Officially.

Yeah, she's lying. But well.

"I understand that!" Is the rueful answer. "It sort of takes the fun out of something when there's importance attached - although of course there was a time when archery and the like was more likely to save your life than net you a medal."

Why, yes. She is prying.

"Yeah, there was," Leah confirms, and it's true even if she takes the 'you' to be personal, which she does.

"Even then, it was best if no one knew if was you pulling the string."

"True," she agrees. "Safety in anonymity."