Mid-19th century London
The trouble with time, I thought, was how you never know when to stop. Even now as I crouched here, behind the chimney, even though I knew I was here for a morally grey deed, there was a certain beauty in the calm before the storm. The chill clung to my skin, and I shivered, clutching the edge of the bag over my shoulder. There was a certain beauty to the uncertainty, that lay before me, I thought to myself as I surveyed the lone guard underneath me, he was nervous, I noted to myself, most likely his first week on as a guard.
"Jack!" A kid to the right of me whispered. I nodded, knowing it was my time to shine, slinking back into the shadows, I headed into the chimney.
The soot covered me, and I had to cover a cough as I fell into the now cold fireplace. I winced as it seemed my buttocks landed on a piece of dry wood. Crawling out, I gazed around the exquisite room. The place seemed to glisten, all surfaces polished and furnished. I whistle quietly. It's unlucky that these people got on Fagin's bad side. By morning, the owner of this fine estate will realise their house has been stripped bare leaving nothing to him. A feeling of ecstasy rose within me as I started my job, keeping quiet as a mouse.
DOCTOR'S POV
I felt as if, I was a stranger in my own body, new hands, new arms, new lungs, and a new face. The Tardis seemed to respond to my internal thoughts with flickering lights and warning alarms blaring. Grabbing the console, I tried to steady myself. "Fancy a bit of cooperation, old girl?" I muttered to seemingly no one as I wrestled with the controls, with the Tardis resisting each command. With a flash of light, I was thrown from the console and landed at the bottom of the steps. Knowing there was nothing I could do at that moment, I shouted: "ALLONS-Y! Wait that's not who I am anymore." and with another burst of light, I was sent into darkness.
JACK DAWKINS POV
Still holding the bag, which weighed heavier than before, I trudged down the winding streets of London. The gas lamps flickered on and off with a hiss and the buildings seemed to loom taller in the darkness. Yet i was used to it. Too many midnight "strolls" have happened in the past couple years. Through the darkness in front of me emerged a well-dressed man, obviously in a hurry, bumping into him, my fingers danced across the fabric of his clothes, searching for a pocket, effortlessly taking a small purse out.
"Sorry sir," I say innocently, the man looks at me with a smile, "That's alright mate, just watch out next time." And he disappeared into the fog. Looking back to see if he was gone, I checked the purse. 13 shillings, 3 pence and a weird metal looking stick. That's a good's week work, that is, I thought in my head. That man must have been an important person, he was so kind that I almost felt guilty.