The savage crouched and pulled a knife, her brown eyes sharp and wary. "Why do you follow us?" she demanded.

They were standing in the dripping back streets of old London.

Her opponent held her high tech gun loosely, down by her side. Ready to raise it at any moment but unwilling to point a gun at one of his friends.

"I don't mean any harm," she said.

The savage didn't taker her eyes off her. "You follow us, you watch, you view him as a tiger views a morsel. What do you want with him?"

River grinned. "Many things."

Leela stood up straighter at that lascivious tone, recognizing it, woman to woman.

She cocked her head, surveying the golden haired warrior before her. Eyes thorough and astute.

"You hunt him," she said, putting an entirely different slant on the words.

"Always."

Leela suddenly grinned. She reached out a hand and River clasped it in a warrior's armlock. "I am Leela," the savage said. "Warrior of the Sevateem."

"River Song. Archeologist."

Leela's brows beetled. "What is this 'Ark-e-olo-gist?'" she carefully sounded out the word.

River holstered her gun. "It's one who hunts the past."

"You are of his people?"

"Yes, and no. They do not know about me. He does not know about me, not yet."

"And so you hunt his past," the long-haired woman said. River grinned, she was a sharp one, no matter her manner of speech.

"Yes, I've an interest, in him," River said.

Leela slid her knife up in her sheath with a thumb, considering, then slammed it back down again. She nodded. "It is good. He needs one to hunt him. To remind him of the joy of being prey."

River laughed out loud, throwing her head back. She stared back down at the grinning savage.

"Oh, believe me," River said, eyes sparkling dangerously. "He knows."

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