While the two Doctors argue over the flight of the Tardis and nit-pick about various details — with mine doing most of it —, Martha and I head over to the other companions. My focus immediately zeroes in on one of them. "Yaz? That's why you were being so weird!"

"What, you've met her?" Martha asks.

The woman nods gingerly. "Yeah, sorry about that. We didn't mean to land here, it just sort of happened. The Doctor remembered that she'd been here before so she sent us to make sure you were all okay. I sort of... panicked. Saw him and didn't want to get caught out."

I chuckle, waving it off. "Don't worry. I'd already clocked onto you with all those odd questions."

Now we look to the two men standing beside her — one young, tall and dark-skinned, the other older and fair. The taller one shakes our hands, "Ryan. This is my granddad, Graham."

We greet him too. "This is Martha. I'm Inara."

"Oh, right! The Doctor's missus!"

Judging by the way the others hurriedly motion for Graham to be silent, this is important information I was not supposed to know about. I glance down at my ring and then at the two versions still discussing their many differences. Oddly, I'm not that surprised. It's like I had expected it. A warmth glows in my chest.

The Future Doctor now fixates on his trench coat, tugging lightly on its collar. "Ah, that suit. Such a good suit. Miss that suit."

His eyes widen in horror and he practically screeches, "You got rid of my suit?"

"Oh, it's still in there somewhere. Probably. Maybe."

The pistons quieten. When I rest my hand on the console, though, I hear a contented hum. It takes me a moment to realise that it is still bursting with sparks. With a twist of guilt, I am reminded of the morphine I had been given for my injury just last month, and how it had felt so wonderful that I couldn't focus my complete and undivided attention on our situation. This feels like that. All I can see is him — them. I don't know whether I should be concerned or amused.

"I think we have bigger, non-wardrobe-related problems right now."

Ryan grimaces at Yaz's comment. "Yeah, just a bit."

"Oh, trust me, we know."

The Future Doctor points between them and cheerfully says, "Really very obvious when you take a look at what's been going on."

"Just as smug as ever," I mutter.

Oblivious, they turn to each other only to declare different issues in a blended shout of, 'Autons' and 'Weeping Angels'. Then, "What?"

Her eyes narrow slightly as she tries to explain it away, "You mean the Weeping Angels dropped you in 1969."

He scratches the back of his head. "No, I mean the Weeping Angels are in 1969 — at least one is. Just saw it."

"The Doc's right... Doc," Graham pipes up.

"Well, Inara, Martha and I just saw loads of Autons in the shop she works in. Right, gals?"

"'Gals'. That's a new one."

Far more concentrated than me, Martha raises her hands to warn off any confusion. "I saw crazy living mannequins that tried to attack us. Don't know what they were."

Ryan stares between all of us, completely baffled. "You telling us there are statues and mannequins coming to life?"

"Attack mannequins do sound like the Autons," my Doctor says. "But did you—"

"Use the specific frequency that disrupts the signal connecting them to the Nestene Consciousness?" she interrupts, holding up her sonic screwdriver with a wink. "Older and wiser."

He consults his own with a frown. "Older, at least. Autons. Haven't seen them since back when I first met—"

"Anyway! Enough reminiscing. Two unrelated, occasionally humanoid aliens have established themselves in the same area of the same planet."

"And we're gonna be the ones to stop them."

While the others seem confused by her aversion to the topic, I already know what he was about to say — Rose. That gives this situation a whole new meaning, as old memories wash back up.

She huffs, "Well, yes. That too. But don't you want to know why? I'm pretty sure even when I was you, I cared about the why."

"Of course I care why. That doesn't mean we can't plan what we're going to do about it."

Graham's eyebrows raise. "You telling me you used to make plans for these things?"

He winces. "Well, 'plan' is really more of a metaphor for making it up as I go along."

"Yeah, sounds about right," Ryan chuckles.

Still, I can't stop myself from smiling at the thought of what Graham had said. I follow my Doctor out of the Tardis and onto an empty, cobbled street. My arm links with his and I lean in to give him a quick, gentle kiss. He stares at me with a dazed grin. "What was that for?"

My focus shifts momentarily over to the Future Doctor, who watches us with a strange fondness. It must be very odd to witness the early days of your own marriage. It's even odder for me to realise that I have accepted the idea so easily.

Shrugging, I pat his cheek and reply, "You're especially kissable today."

A sharp cough breaks us apart. All three of us flush, looking at Yaz. She shakes her head, disapproving. "Maybe we should try focusing just a bit."

We unlink our arms. I cross mine, lowering my head. The Future Doctor continues to watch me, taking in my appearance even as she says, "Yaz is right. Autons are easy to work out; plastics. But what attracted the Weeping Angel? It's responsible for the slew of missing people — obvious, really — but there's something more..."

The two Doctors gasp. "No..."

"You don't think..."

They narrowly miss poking each other by pointing their fingers. "The Tardis!" they both exclaim.

Turning to see the rest of us looking very confused, she explains, "The perfect foodstuff."

"But I thought the Tardis brought us here because of trouble," Yaz counters, crossing her arms, "that we cause in part by coming here to investigate the trouble we cause."

Martha chuckles to herself, "Wibbly wobbly."

"Timey-wimey."

She frowns then and waves for the Future Doctor's attention. "So, hang on, are you saying the Angel got Janice?"

"No, that was my fault. Put the Autons on defence mode. I'm really sorry, Martha."

Gulping, Ryan steps away from our ship, eyeing it warily. "But if it's drawn to the Tardis and it's hungry, can't it just track us here?"

"That's... a very good point, Ryan."

We look around the narrow street. "Coast looks clear."

"Doctor..."

We follow Martha's panicked stare up to the rooftops. Weeping Angels stand watch all around us. They keep their stone faces hidden behind their hands but I can feel their cold stares bearing down on us.

"Back inside the Tardis, quickly! Have to risk the vomit," my Doctor shouts.

The other takes to the front of the group, glaring up at the creatures. "I'll keep an eye on them. You go ahead."

We usher the others inside but I stay to watch them. Graham pauses in the doorway. "Doc!"

"Right behind you, Graham."

Despite the others' shouts, I stay put. My Doctor tries to pull me inside but I resist him. "There's no way she can look at all of them at once! Go, get the Tardis ready to leave."

With one last anxious glance, he disappears inside.

"You lot!" she shouts as I carefully edge closer to her. The Angels are in the street now. Just a few more steps and they'll be upon us. "Every time I think I've seen the last of you— And you have no idea, do you? Who I even am, just how much you've taken from me? But you know what? Still beat you. Every single time. And if you think this time is going to go any differently, you really do have rocks for brains."

"Doctor!" I call. My hand grasps hers. "Let's go."

We back away slowly, taking turns to blink. He greets us by the door and shuts it the second we step inside. Sighing in relief, I let my eyes close, easing the discomfort from staring at those creatures. When I open them again, I meet his disapproving gaze. He smiles, though, and takes my hand with a light squeeze. "Tardis seems to have settled a bit," he remarks as she passes us. "What was that all about?"

"Spoilers."

"Oh, don't you start."

Martha glares at them, hands on hips. "Don't make me separate you two. I get enough of that at home. Now, killer mannequins and killer statues. Which do we deal with first?"

The ground shifts from under us.

I grab for the yellow seats that should be behind me, but they aren't there. With nothing to break my fall, I hit the ground. The Doctor lands beside me. Scrambling back to our feet, unstable as we try to lean against the console, we look to her in alarm. "I'd say the one trying to break into the Tardis."

Another tremor knocks us off-balance. "What's going on?"

The door rattles.

"The Weeping Angels. Trying to get inside the Tardis."

"Only way they can feed off of her."

Ryan clutches onto the edge of the console for dear life, looking a little queasy. "Would that leave all of us stranded in 1969?"

Graham grimaces and remarks, "Living through the seventies once was enough."

"Can they get inside?"

The Doctors exchange wary looks. "No."

"Probably not," he adds.

"Still a lot we don't know about them."

"We might be in trouble."

"We are in trouble," she says. "Luckily, that's a position I'm very familiar with." She pushes a lever, and some of the hexagonal wall panels flicker to life, displaying the terrifying Angels with their fangs bared. "Everyone! Look at the screens."

We don't question her. The shaking stops.

They both put their hands in their pockets. He beams over at her. "Oh, but that's brilliant."

She shrugs modestly. "Can't get in if they're being observed."

"Even watching them through a camera?" Graham asks.

"Eyes on the screen, Granddad!" Ryan hastily reminds him. "Maybe they can't tell the difference?"

She grins, reaching for another lever. "It'll hold them long enough for us to do this."

She pulls it and the pistons come to life. The screens fade back to black as we are transported away. I frown. "Did you move everything around? Come on, that's not fair!"

"Even if we get away from them for now, how do we stop them?"

"Excellent question, Yaz!" she praises. Her cheerful demeanour only fades a little as she continues, "Still working on the answer."

Ryan points to my Doctor over his shoulder. "But if he's here, shouldn't you remember what you did?"

Graham nods in agreement. "For that matter, shouldn't you remember meeting us before... well, you met us?"

"Not that simple, sadly."

He sucks in air through his teeth, awkwardly tilting his head in her direction. "Yeah," he replies, dragging it out. "Skating this close to a paradox does funny things to one's memory."

I nod in understanding, still not completely caught up. "Wait, does that only affect you two, or are we all going to forget this?"

"Probably just us. Don't worry about it, darling," she gently dismisses. I feel warmth rise to my face again and smile shyly back at her.

Having grown distracted, Martha peers through the small windows set into the Tardis doors. "But where are we? How do we know they didn't follow us?"

She takes a second to tear her gaze from me, clearing her throat. "Right. I parked us just a bit out of their reach."

From the faint twinkling of stars beyond the frosted glass, I assume we are for more than 'a bit' away from Earth. Martha turns back to us, looking appraisingly between them as she says, "Well, with two of you here, it should be easy enough to fix all of this. Right?"

They give each other sidelong glances.

Unnerved, she tries again, "Right?"

They gasp. The Future Doctor raises a hand as if she has discovered the answer to our complicated problem. "Oh, no. That's good. That's really—"

"But only if we—"

"Obviously, yes. But first—"

"Ooh, yes. Brilliant!"

The rest of us look around at each other. It's certainly not as clear as it is to them. Yaz sighs, "Could you translate to Human for the rest of us?"

"Speak for yourself," I joke.

Wincing, he itches the back of his neck. "Ah. Yes. Sorry."

She does the same. "Good plan. Very exciting. Good start of a plan, at least. Doctor?"

"Little more than a start, I'd say. At least two or three steps."

Taking to different ends of the console, they both get to work, resonating frequencies with their sonics. The crystal pillars turn from amber to green. Eyeing them, Ryan cranes his neck around us to see the two Doctors. "Is that a good light? A 'part of the plan' light?"

"Our mannequin friends, the Autons — aside from not being friends, they aren't individuals. They're sort of a hive mind, controlled by the Nestene Consciousness," she responds, not looking away from her work.

"We stop the Central Nestene, we stop the Autons. The plastic goes back to being just plastic, rather than living plastic that wants to eradicate humanity."

Yaz takes a deep breath, anticipating the limitation to this plan. "Don't suppose it's that easy to turn off the statues."

"Unfortunately not. But I have something else up my sleeve — or at least one of the four."

He gestures to himself as he looks over her, trying to spot any extra arms that she might have hidden away. "When you say 'four', are you including me, or..."

The console beeps. They return their attention to their sonics, which stand out from data ports on the upper shelf. I watch the way both of them tense their shoulders as they brace themselves against the console. Perhaps I don't need to worry so much about him regenerating if so many of these similarities carry over — they seem fairly similar personality-wise, too, which I remember from when he was the incarnation that I first met.

"Under the Thames?" he exclaims. "Really?"

"Again? Suppose the river as a thought conductor makes sense, though. So you've already..."

He nods. "Yup. Christmas."

"Right. Thought so."

Ryan claps his hands together, drawing their attention. "All right. So we know where one of the monsters is. What are we going to do about it?"

"Hope the other monsters are as fast as the stories say."

——————

We all file out of the Tardis and into a dingy corridor. I vaguely remember it from that Christmas, the thought making me shudder. He grimaces, sympathising with me. "Oh, I really don't like this place."

I take his hand in mine. Martha joins us, joking, "Don't worry. You're not alone."

"So what exactly are we looking for here? What does this Nestene look like?" Yaz asks.

They get their sonics out. "Oh, it depends."

"Last time I saw one, big vat of goo. Shame I left all my anti-plastic a few decades in the future. But extrapolating the readings the Tardis picked up should find our Vat-O-Nestene soon enough."

Noticing that they point their devices off in different directions, Graham leans over to the Future Doctor and enquires, "You looking for the plastic, too?"

"Oh, no. Handy thing, having two sonics around. Lets me run a completely different program."

Consulting his, he groans, "Sonic says this way. Really don't like this way."

Martha follows his nervous gaze into the shadows of the tunnel. "You've been down here before, then?"

"Yeah. Quite recently, in fact. Didn't much like who I was that day."

I can remember it clearly in my mind even now — the explosion, the rushing water, the screams of the drowning Racnoss. I don't like myself much either for doing nothing. Shifting closer, I squeeze his hand.

Her gaze softens. "Well, today's a different day. And today's you isn't half bad at all."

He looks back at where his future self stands, still scanning our surroundings. Her friends talk amongst themselves behind her, laughing and joking. Seeing the way they look at her unlocks something in his eyes. It's as if a small weight has been shifted. He smiles weakly. "Not half bad at all."

The others catch up. Heading along to a doorway at the end of the tunnel, he leads us onto the very same scaffolding we had stood on that day. "We're close. Very close. Vat of goo up ahead."

Sure enough, in place of where that deep chasm had once been, a pool of liquid glows like lava. It bubbles and boils as a head forms on the surface.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Ready."

Their sonics activate.

Sidling over to the rest of us, Graham whispers, "Should we know the plan here, or—"

"Mannequins!" he suddenly shouts, putting on his best Human voice — loud and oblivious, as if he just blundered right in. "Walking around like they're alive! Never seen anything like it!"

"I knew London was a bit weird, but this I never expected!"

Two gaping sockets dribble open like eyes from the goo, blazing white hot. "Who dares disturb my sanctuary?" it squelches.

Squinting in fake irritation, he jabs his thumb in her direction. "I thought you said this was the way to the loo!"

She gasps dramatically. "Me? I was following you!"

"What are they doing?" Ryan hisses.

"They're distracting it. But why?"

"This is exactly why I asked what the plan was!"

Now, the two of them shrug, hands raised in surrender. "Us? We're just tourists. I didn't even want to be here, myself."

"Unexpected stop for me. Some nice shops, though. You know, apart from the living mannequins."

The Nestene Consciousness gurgles, "You think to stop my conquest? You are too late!"

Quickly growing impatient, he leans over to her. "Where are they?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Older and wiser!"

She huffs impatiently. "All right, Nestene. Yes, we know who you are — nice job with the English, by the way — but you're still going to fail."

A few bubbles of molten plastic roll down its immense brow. "And why is that? My children walk!"

"Three reasons. First: I've stopped you before. Second: so has he."

He waves cheerfully. "Hello!"

"And third: the two of us? We aren't even the scariest thing in London right now."

The Nestene rises higher out of its vat, a hill of flowing magma quivering with rage. "What are you—"

With a rushing of wind, a Weeping Angel materialises in front of it. The creature screeches indignantly and disappears in a flash of light. A deep, grating wail comes from all around us. The Autons have been reduced to what they once were — harmless plastic.

"Can't believe that worked!" the Doctor cheers.

"Perfect timing."

"And now we run?"

"And now we run," she echoes, leading the way back over to us. "Weeping Angel. Have to hurry."

We are already backing away, keeping our eyes on it. "How did it find us all the way down here?"

"I called it here."

We all turn on her in horror. "What?"

"Eyes on the Angel!"

She starts to lead the way back, still not turning her back on the statue. It has turned towards us now. Its fingers have parted just a crack, enough for me to see the empty, stone eyes staring right back at us. "Zapped our Nestene friend back in time, hopefully to an era before plastic. Come on, now. Before the others show up."

Breaking into a sprint, we turn the corner. Even with all of us looking, the Angel is getting close. Our footsteps thunder along the tunnel in a constant echo. "Almost there!"

Yaz skids to a halt at the front of the group. "They're already here!"

"And they can't move unless you stop looking at them," the Future Doctor replies. "So don't