A/N: This may well be the last chapter I put up on this site as I am more in love with the style of deviantArt and so rarely do anything here. If you wish to find out what happens in this story and others of mine, please seek out "Gallifrey-Pirate" on deviantArt for the family friendly things and "time-and-a-crayon" for the weirder stuff I've been uploading. This story is far more pleasing to the eye on there, I update much more frequently and I am almost certain to respond to your wonderful comments. Thank you so much to all of you, particularly those I've failed to reply to over the last few years. I'll try to pop up a few extra fics and update my profile, but otherwise I have migrated to deviantArt. Please find me there, sweeties =) -x-

A good twenty minutes was spent raiding rooms in search of extra fire extinguishers, The Doctors disrupting simulations with their sonics as best they could – one of them a little ineffectually. Once or twice a simulation would get lucky and they would barely escape with dignity or life intact.

"You," The Doctor-10 wheezed at The Doctor-11 as they stumbled out of a room full of enraged Martha Jones clones and Amy Pond gangers, "are forbidden to use a fire extinguisher until you can think straight."

"I'm sorry, all right?"

"You nearly took my head off!"

"You were running straight at me. I thought you were one of them."

"I was running at the door!" The Doctor-10 roared.

Rory grumbled, ensuring they weren't being followed. "Can we just focus? Please?"

"Well that's just it, isn't it?" The Doctor-10 snapped. "Some of us can't."

The Doctor-11 glared. "It's improving. Look, we need to find the most detailed console possible in the hope it's got a better connection to the complex's systems."

They hurried on through the corridors as they plotted.

"Right," said Rory, "so where do we find one? Is there some sort of central hub for the VIP suite, like, I dunno, does it have a local server thing? Do they even have those this far in the future?"

"Usually, no," The Doctor-11 replied. "The majority of systems can run completely wireless without so much as a twitch of interference but when you're operating a delicate simulation matrix, it's wise to keep it contained on a more basic structure with focused access points. Being such an old method, the security has become impeccable through so many years of improvement, firewalls protecting firewalls, top notch technical staff, practically impenetrable from outside forces. In theory there shouldbe such a system though, as to knowing how physically central it is, I'm in a paddle-less kayak."

Rory frowned. "You're saying it's incredibly difficult to break through security here… then how has it been sabotaged?"

"Oh come on, Rory," said The Doctor-10. "You're a smart man."

"Because it's all done from the inside? They're letting this happen."

The Doctors nodded.

Rory sighed. "What did you doto make someone hate you this much?" He hesitated before adding, "No, never mind. I don't need to think about it. How do we find this possibly-existing core system for where we are?"

"Heh," The Doctor-11 giggled suddenly. "A suiteheart." He caught himself at the sharp glances he received. "Sorry."

"By making do with what we have," The Doctor-10 answered. "And I really hate to say this but I know where to find the largest console we've come across."

"Why do you hate to -?" Rory began.

"The ballroom," The Doctor-11 winced.

"Ballroom…?" Rory repeated, confused.

"There's a high concentration of projectron activity in there," The Doctor-11 explained. "Big panel to support a more impressive scenario. We may have to fight our way across to it."

"Fire extinguishers primed?" said The Doctor-10.

The Doctor-11 and Rory nodded, presenting arms.

"All right then! Allons-y!" The Doctor-10 rushed on ahead.

As they hurried after him, Rory murmured to The Doctor-11. "Why do you two do that? Real people don't have catchphrases. Do you just wake up in your new life and it's your first word?"

"Oh don't be silly, Rory. Of course they're not 'catchphrases'. I say a lot of things I like the sound of, then I rehash them on numerous occasions and they become habit. You're just noticing some recurrence. I liked 'Allons-y' back then. It was a fun thing to say." He arched an eyebrow at his father-in-law. "Casual interest: what's mine?"

"Well, amongst other things, 'Geronimo', which I think you know full well."

The Doctor-11 blinked. "Do I say it that often?"

Rory gave him a dull stare. "Let me just think about that: every time you joined me and Amy in the pool, you'd dive-bomb the deep end and shout 'Geronimo!'. The time you materialized the TARDIS horizontally and we all had to climb out – you said it then. Also the time you set the bathroom on fire and had to run in with a radiation suit… by the way, how didyou set a bathroom on fire? Oh, when we go and meet famous actors, you get that grin on your face before you go and mingle and you do it again. Then, there was that time last week when River was helping you fix something in a 'back-up engine room' and we heard you shout it but had no intention of finding out why."

"We dropped a prototype temporal stabiliser down a passage with a faulty gravity orientator!" The Doctor-11 blurted. "I had to jump after it or we'd have conflicting quantum states popping up all over the place!"

"I didn't think the TARDIS even hadengines."

"Point made, Rory," The Doctor-11 blundered on, quickly. "I suppose the words I repeat tend to reflect my application to problem solving. I used to say 'Allons-y', and back then I'd go racing through trouble's front door with a big grin and no plan. Now, I suppose I have a tiny bit more of a plan but I tend to drop myself right in the thick of the problem and work my way out again."

"Hence 'Geronimo'."

"Ex-actly."

They caught up with The Doctor-10 and bustled swiftly along the circuit of closed doors.

"It's too quiet, isn't it?" Rory muttered.

"You just had to say that, didn't you?" The Doctor-11 groaned. "But now you mention it, yes, yes it is."

"Sshh," said The Doctor-10.

The three men hushed as a crudely geometric robot hound trundled out from a newly opened doorway. Its tiny satellite dish ears whirred before it wheeled about to look at them.

"Master?"it said.

"Hello, K-9," The Doctor-10 replied carefully. "Where's your mistress?"

"Close by, Master."

"Oh really? Very close by?"

"Affirmative."

"Where is she? And please don't say she's behind us."

"She is waiting in the next doorway to ambush you, Master."

"Is she now?" The Doctor-10 cringed. "Good dog. I don't suppose you could distract her could you? Let us slip past?"

"Negative, Master. I am programmed to obey my mistress. You will follow."

The Doctor-11 hopped forward, flicking out his sonic and zapping K-9. To Rory and The Doctor-10's astonishment, the robot shut down.

"How did you do that?" The Doctor-10 asked.

"Easy. I pretended K-9 was actually K-9. The simulation believes it has been deactivated and so there he is." He pouted at the dormant robot. "Sorry, boy."

Rory stared at K-9, bewildered. "He called you 'Master'."

"Yeah," said The Doctor-10, matter-of-factly. "He's my dog."

Rory turned to The Doctor-11. "You have a dog?"

"I did, yes. Gave him to a dear friend of mine."

"Older woman? Well spoken, brown hair, wears a jacket…?"

The Doctor-11 beamed fondly. "Sarah Jane Smith, yes. How did you -?"

"She had the dog shoot Amy last time we were in this corridor. Well, not Amy Amy; creepy alternate universe Amy, but, yeah. Think we only got away because his kill-shot hadn't recharged. That and she was probably in love with you."

"Really?" The Doctor-11 mumbled, unconsciously pawing at his bowtie. He cleared his throat. "I mean, we need to keep moving. She's got no back-up now. She's just a journalist. Although, saying that…" He trailed off, wincing. "Never mind, I'll go first." Keeping his fire extinguisher in an unthreatening position at his side, The Doctor-11 crept along until he was almost in line with the next doorway.

He was just about to signal the others to follow when Sarah Jane came running out, expression distraught, eyes shining with tears. For a woman approaching sixty, she was still as beautiful as she had ever been.

"Oh, Doctor!" she cried. She darted over and threw her arms about him before he could pick a suitable reaction.

"Sarah…" he found himself saying. "What's wrong?"

The simulation of Miss Smith sobbed brokenly against him. "Doctor," she sniffed. "I can't bear it anymore. I thought I could live on without you, without life in the TARDIS. I tried. I tried so h-hard. I even made my own family and I've seen so many wonderful things, but it just isn't enough!"

Perplexed and clearly affected, The Doctor-11 put his free arm around her, the one laboured with the fire extinguisher dangling awkwardly behind him. He glanced over at The Doctor-10 and Rory who were edging closer.

"Oh… but you're doing just brilliantly," The Doctor-11 said, feeling as though, for a fleeting moment, he were speaking to the real woman. "You've found 'amazing' on your own turf and you never needed me. I could've been anyone, just someone to bring you out and let you grow." He caught The Doctor10's eye again and indicated for them to slip past.

"You're wrong," Sarah Jane wept. "There's just too much out there and you leave us and we can never see it again. You put us back in our cages and open someone else's."

The Doctor-11 gripped her tightly, unable to prevent a twinge in his hearts. "Because sooner or later I try to fly you too high and you get burned, or I suppose if logic were applied to the physics, you'd freeze first." He sighed, frustrated at his words. "I never wanted to see you hurt."

"That's not your choice alone to make."

The Doctor-10 and Rory tiptoed on, stealing past the delicate conversation.

"Honestly, Sarah," The Doctor-11 asked softly, "would it be better if I didn't take anyone at all?"

She pulled back from him and looked up into his eyes. He swallowed, seeing the same young girl within the older woman that he had loved so long ago. Now he looked young enough to be her son. He hated the simulation for being so vivid.

"No, Doctor, but I never wanted to leave. Please, take me with you. Let me see the stars again."

"It wouldn't work. Even if I wanted to, even though I shouldn't, you won't be able to leave this place." He smiled sadly and brushed a tear from her eye. "You're not real, Sarah. I'm sorry."

Then came the change; the rage in her expression. He wasn't sure how he held it together. He bore the utter hate that burned in her look, withstood the sight of her clenched teeth. She stepped away.

"You don't care about me at all!" she hissed. "You never did. You just used me. Someone to show off to, to let you think you were clever, and then you went off and stole more girls to do the same. You're just a sick, wretched creature that should have died out along with the rest of his race instead of preying upon others."

The Doctor-11 bit his lip, making no attempt to defend himself. The false Sarah Jane looked across at the inactive K-9.

"There, you see," she snarled, voice breaking with grief. "You give us the universe and take it away. You gave me my dog and now he's gone. No, you're not doing that to me." Her hand dipped into her pocket –

But The Doctor-11 saw it coming. He drew his sonic screwdriver as she drew her sonic lipstick.

"Goodbye, Sarah," he said, and disrupted her signal. At once he blasted the revealed projectrons with the extinguisher. He paused for a few seconds to glance over the frozen silver spheres then, with an anguished roar, he brought the base of the extinguisher down upon each of them, crushing the machines to dust. With it now too unsafe to use, he discarded the cylinder and marched after the others.

As he walked the length of the corridor he caught movement beyond one of the half-open doors. Though he knew it to be unwise, he stopped to look. The door opened fully. Inside he saw River, clad in a red velvet princess gown with golden lacing. There was a conical hat atop her curls to match. She was tied to a chair, eyes wide and terrified, her mouth secured with a black gag. Standing beside her was a man in a white shirt and black waistcoat, a top hat perched on his head. The Doctor-11 was not sure what disturbed him most: the fact that both of the room's occupants were staring straight at him, or that the man's cruel smirk was worn upon his own face. His collar was unbuttoned; an empty space that explained the fabric keeping River quiet.

The Doctor-11 grimaced, his eyes still incandescent from his encounter with a false companion. He met up with his younger self and Mr Williams. The Doctor-10 looked at him with a silence that spoke volumes.

"When we find the system at the heart of this complex," The Doctor-11 murmured, "I predict some serious destruction of private property."