Director Rip Hunter and the Time Bureau agents assigned to this century were hunting down an errant flight ring. The Legion wouldn't be producing them for another four hundred years or so. Some upstart calling himself Chronos (Mr Rory would be furious were he to find out.) was stealing artifacts and using them to, well, steal other artifacts actually.

He and Agent Sharpe coordinated a trap for the criminal. It had been sprung wonderfully but Chronos managed to get away in the chaos. Rip was in pursuit on foot.

Idly, the director in him made Rip wonder if it were worth trying to recruit the fellow. He was remarkably capable when it came to retrieving artifacts. A few minor indiscretions like a flight ring might be permissible if…

The thought flew right out of his mind. In fact, he didn't have another coherent moment until well after she helped him to his feet. He got hit pretty hard after all. Then there's who the woman talking to him looked like.

"…I said, are you okay? You came out of nowhere and I just...reacted. I'm sure you're going to be okay. Right?" Amy Pond was snapping her fingers. "Hello?" She turned to her companion. "Sweetheart, I think I broke him."

It was then Rip Hunter found the wherewithal to speak. "Excuse me? 'Sweetheart?' Is that chap your…your boyfriend?" His wife arched her eyebrow. That was a familiar look. He blanched. "And I know that's an entirely inappropriate question. I apologize."

Amy slapped his arm. "That's right it was, buddy! You're lucky my girlfriend isn't the sensitive type! She'd devastate you, you know. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

The woman behind Amy flexed her not unimpressively defined arms and grinned. "That's right, fam. I know how perfect I am."

Behind her, up on the roof of that building was Chronos! The slippery git saw him and took off.

"Of course, madame. No offense intended. I sincerely wish you both an excellent evening. Excuse me. He's just turned invisible."

With that the strange man ran off shouting something about sharpshooting some bloke out of the sky.

The two women looked at each other for a full minute before busting a gut laughing.

Now that Mr Clinton, David AKA Chronos was cooling his (literal) jets in a Bureau holding cell, Rip had time enough to find Amy. Or whoever she was. He set up his surveillance in a nondescript period appropriate vehicle across the street and stared at her flat obsessively

She couldn't be Amy. His best friend since childhood forgot about him once already! His Amy wouldn't have. Not again! Right? Maybe the memories were buried deep in her mind, like the Hawks' when they reincarnated? Hmm. The resemblance to Amy could be representative of another massive anachronism caused by the Silence. God, he hoped not. Last time almost let Mollus out. Not even the Time War came that close.

"Gideon," Rip spoke into his wrist watch, suddenly beet red. He could see the woman who looked like his super-model wife through a window making out with her girlfriend. "I need you to distract me immediately."

"Of course, Director Hunter. With what?"

Rip stared, slack jawed.

"Director Hunter? Your pulse has quickened and blood has begun rushing to your..."

"Yes, Gideon! Thank you! Um, let's see..." Rip leaned back into his seat and pulled up a file.

"Why don't we review what we know so far, Gideon?"

He remembered the biggest surprise being her name wasn't Amy Pond at all. She was called Em May Showers. Poor girl…. Well, it's not like Rip Hunter was that much better.

"It seems, Director, Ms Showers has lived here all her life. She has social security, school records, doctor visits, and a criminal record to boot. Her parents aren't even actors," Gideon added snidely.

Rip rolled his eyes and moved on before they could start arguing. "Yes, and all of that points to this young woman being exactly where she is supposed to be."

So if this woman wasn't Amy, why did she look like her? He returned his attentions to the Showers' abode. Ms Showers was looking out the window. Where did her impressively fit girlfriend go?

The sudden opening of his door answered that for him. She grabbed the smaller person and dragged him off. A few minutes later, Rip was unceremoniously dumped on a living room floor. Amy was glaring daggers at him from the couch.

Not Amy. Em May. Goes by May. It was May's ire he was currently enjoying.

"Are you seriously stalking me? Do you know how creeper that is?"

"Um, well, yes. I suppose I am aware."

"So then what? Are you some kinda pervo getting your sick and twisted?"

"...no?"

The red head's eyes narrowed. It was all Rip could do not to flinch at how achingly familiar she looked. May even smelled like Amy!

He pulled out an old black and white photo of Amy. She was hugging their son, Anthony. "Do you know who this woman is?"

May took the snapshot. "Where did you get this?"

"Do you?" Rip repeated.

May's girlfriend looked from the picture and back to him. May herself couldn't take her eyes off of it.

"This...this is me? How is this me?"

The bigger woman reached out to Rip and grabbed him by the lapel. "What the hell are you playing at, creeper."

Rip swallowed. "That is a picture of my late wife." Well, one of them, he amended silently. God that was depressing. "I'm simply astonished to find her doppelgänger here in...in..." the name of this town escaped him for the moment.

"New Paisley, Director Hunter," Gideon helpfully supplied via earpiece.

That was it.

"In New Paisley. My colleagues and I are law enforcement agents. We are here on an unrelated matter." He looked May in the eyes. "I apologize for...creeping. It was never my intention." Rip smiled, sadly. "That was our son, Anthony."

May looked up, sharply. "Was?"

"He and Amy, my wife, have been dead for quite some time, Ms Showers."

"I'm sorry," said May as she handed back the photo.

"I am as well, for bothering you. Both of you."

May shrugged, though uneasily. "I get it, yeah? If my Rori here died and I saw someone that looked like her..." she trailed off and shrugged. "Who knows how I'd act?"

Rip started and turned to the larger woman. "Your name is Rori?"

"In all your creeping you never got my name," she asked incredulously.

He blushed. That was indeed a bit of an oversight.

She held out her hand. "Rori Billium, professional badass."

Rip's heart was racing again. Outwardly he gave no sign as he shook the offered hand. "Rip Hunter. A pleasure to meet you...Rori Billium."

That name was too similar to his original to be a coincidence, right? Rory Williams and Rori Billium.

Once Rip was outside, he contacted Gideon, but there was no reply.

"She can't hear you, Rip the Director."

He froze. It couldn't be.

"Terrible nickname, that. Awful. I much prefer Rip the Roman."

"Doctor," Rip gasped, breathlessly. "What are you doing here?" Rip was reeling with shock. "Did you do something to Gideon?"

The Doctor put a chummy arm around him and began steering them away from May's place. After a few minutes, Rip seemed to come back to himself and shrugged out of the Doctor's arm.

"What are you doing here, Doctor?" He repeated.

The Doctor put his hands up in surrender. "I detected a ridiculous increase in chroniton particles for this time." He grinned shamelessly and stuck his thumbs in his suspenders. "You know how much I love ridiculous. And what's more ridiculous than a bloke with jet boots AND a flight ring?"

Rip considered this. "So you arrived here in this time and investigated as I did?"

The Time Lord gave his former companion a big beaming grin and poked his shoulders repeatedly with both hands.

"You bet I did, Rip the Roman!"

"Ow. Doctor, could you...Ow! Doctor!"

He stopped, immediately. " Sorry."

"It's quite all right," Rip assured, rubbing is sore shoulder. "I take it you saw her?"

"I saw her clobber you right in the nose!" At Rip's glare, the Doctor backtracked. "Yes. I saw Em May Showers. She was born in Amy's old house." The Doctor passed a file to Rip. "She even had Amy's old room! All of them do."

Rip read through the pages. Women from numerous times with Amy's face, histories that mirrored her's. They went to the same schools, worked similar jobs and, even broke the same leg at the same age!

"What does this all mean, Doctor?"

The Doctor snatched the folder back. "It means, Mr Director, the Crack in Amy's wall left a mark in time when it sealed. Think of Em May as a reflection of Amy. The area around the crack is used to a delightful, leggy redhead being there. Now that there isn't one..."

"...it made another?" Rip finished. "Is this an Amy making factory?" He asked weakly.

The Doctor looked repulsed. "What? No, what it is is a monument to her!"

"A monument...to Amy?"

Smiling warmly, the Doctor nodded. "When she grew up next to that crack, it absorbed her memories and her history. Just what are we made up of, eh?" The Doctor was starting to build up steam. It was like he had a tremendous secret and he couldn't wait for someone else to know it. "For decades the crack in everything had a taste of Amy Pond! Then she was...gone." He grabbed Rip, demanding his full attention. "The crack's sealed. Good. The space around it malleable. Better. Everything missed Amy Pond so much so the universe worked around the clock to fill a void only she can leave!" The Doctor let go, stepped back, and took a deep breath. He was awed by the majesty of it all. "Obviously it takes centuries every time."

Rip spat out the first thought to manifest from the maelstrom. "So her house is an Amy factory."

The Doctor huffed, annoyed. Typical. "One the universe built because it misses her!" He beamed as comprehension slammed into his former companion's brain.

Unexpectedly, Rip belted out a laugh, then a sob. He wondered at it. "I haven't lost control like that in years." Rip collected himself and called for Gideon, somehow not surprised when the AI answered.

"Director Hunter, are you alright?"

"Yes Gideon, thank you." He glanced at the Doctor. "Blackout all information pertaining to Em May Showers and please erase my memories regarding her."

"Yes, Director. Per Bureau protocol, I am issuing a countdown of five minutes. You have until then to countermand your orders."

"Don't do it. Don't forget," the Doctor asked.

"I need to stay away, Doctor. These women aren't Amy. They deserve to have their own lives."

First he sighed, then he smirked, then the Doctor straightened his bow tie. "Gideon?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

"How've you been?"

"You know me, Doctor."

He grinned, wickedly. "Oh you bad girl."

"You two know each other?" Rip demanded, aghast.

The Doctor shrugged. "What does it matter? You're not going to remember."

"It's true, Director. Please relax and enjoy the next three minutes with this knowledge."

Rip glared. "That's a dirty trick." The Doctor's eyes twinkled, smugly. "Gideon, how long have you been in contact with the Doctor?"

"That answer isn't important, Director Hunter. You'll only forget in two minutes, forty-seven seconds."

"If I'm going to forget, then why not just tell me?"

"I'm sorry, Director Hunter, it appears the Doctor has interfered with my communication systems. Oh dear. I will be sure to contact Agent Sharpe in two minutes, twenty-four seconds."

"Gideon? Gideon!"

"Don't forget this," the doctor begged again. "I just saw it on your face. It was as though, for one sweet, beautiful moment, you were happy again. Why? Why erase that?"

"Because I can't stay away, Doctor. Not from her. I have no right to interfere with any of these people's lives. Just because they look like my wife? No. So if I forget, I just go back to normal. I can deal with normal. There's no risk of contact. No risk to them."

The Doctor's expression was sad. "I understand. You want what's best. I do too. Before your retcon yourself, answer me this question. Why have all these women throughout time, made to commemorate Amelia Pond, date and marry nurses, romans, and folks with names that sound like Rory Williams?"

"I...I don't know."

"She's looking for him."

Before Rip could say another word, the memory wipe instigated. The Doctor caught his friend and set him down gently before hurrying off. Moments later a blinding portal ripped open a hole in time and space.

The Doctor watched from a safe distance as the Bureau collected its director.

"Maybe one day she'll find him," he said softly, almost pleadingly to the universe, then headed back home to the TARDIS.