A/N: Doctor Who/To Kill a Mockingbird crossover oneshot. Written back when I was trying to write for at least ten minutes straight every night and just wrote whatever came to mind. Scout's POV.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harper Lee owns Scout and Dill, and BBC owns the Doctor and the TARDIS.

A grinding noise, like gears rasping together, echoed through the street. I looked up in surprise.

"Do you hear that?" I asked, wiping my dirty hands on my overalls.

"Yep," Dill replied, scrambling out of the hole we'd dug. "What d'you think it is?"

"Dunno. Wanna go see?"

"You bet I do."

We started off down the street, looking for anything out of the ordinary. A blue box had appeared on the street corner. The words "Police Public Call Box" were written across the top. As we watched, the door opened and a man stepped out.

He was tall, and thin. His hair kind of stuck up in the front and his eyes were too old for his face.

I ran up to him. "Mornin', sir. What were you doing in that little box?"

"Oh, nothing," he said airily, a thick British accent masking his voice. "Would you mind telling me where we are?"

"Why, you're in Maycomb County, Alabama, sir," I said. "I'm Jean Louise Finch, but you can call me Scout. This here's Dill Harris, he's here for winter break. My brother Jem's inside sulking 'bout his arm."

"Nice to meet you, Scout and Dill," he said. "My name's the Doctor."

Dill tilted his head back to look at him curiously. "Doctor who?"

"Just the Doctor. Now, could you tell me what the date is?"

"December 17, 1937, Mr. Doctor," I replied. "Why don't you know? Have you been stuck in that box for an awful long time?"

"No, I've just lost track, that's all. Has anything happened lately? Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Nothin' since Bob Ewell, sir, and that was last month."

"Bob Ewell? Who's that?"

"Oh, he's dead now, sir," Dill replied. "Tried to kill Scout 'n' Jem on Halloween, but Boo Radley stopped 'im."

"Did he now? He was human, wasn't he?"

"Of course, Mr. Doctor. What kind of question is that? He was as human as you'n I."

"Yes, well, that's not saying much."

"What do you mean?" I wondered.

"Oh, nothing," he said quickly. "Just rambling. Anyway, nice meeting you two. Good bye."

"Good bye, Mr. Doctor," we chorused, watching him climb back into his little blue box. The grinding noise echoed around the street again and the box vanished.