A/N: Wow, I almost forget this. S'what happens when I get in a rush, I guess. This chapter is where everything really comes together, but there's one more after this. Fortunately, I have about three more episode/serial ideas, plus an idea for a more underlying plot, like each DW season has, so this isn't going anywhere soon. I will be working on my other epic-ish fic, plus a oneshot or two, so updates could be slow. School won't help, either. I'll do my best though. Anyway, enjoy!

If this trend continued, she was seriously going to have to invest in some cute flats. Heels just weren't cutting it with all the running she seemed to be doing in them.

Despite her minor hindrance, Pam rocketed into the TARDIS before Dwight could even react. She went straight through the console room and into the previously unexplored hall beyond it. Many rooms caught her eye - a kitchen, several bedrooms, even a grand library - but none of them seemed to hold anything of use for their current situation. Two more bedrooms, three locked doors and a multistory wardrobe later, she found a room with a great deal of promise.

It had an air of organized chaos: a few wires hung lazily from wall to wall at different heights, the floor just clean enough to navigate without too much difficulty. Scattered across the few tables were half-built (or half taken apart) pieces of technology, all sizes and shapes, and no two were exactly the same. It wasn't an armory by any means, containing nothing that resembled any weapon she'd ever seen, but that was probably for the best. Killing Dwight would raise a lot of awkward questions at work; incapacitating him was the better of her options, as few as they were. Hopefully, this room had something, anything, that was fully built and non-lethal.

She carefully made her way in, avoiding the wires and dislodged metal plates that littered the floor. After a cursory glance around, the central table seemed to be her best bet, containing mostly finished projects and being fairly clean in comparison to the others. Her eyes and hands moved slowly, deliberately, over these few things, until she came to a small, thin tube, only its silver casing opened up as if someone had been tinkering with it.

Gingerly, she picked it up, realizing that it resembled what Jim had removed from his pocket, only shorter. If he was going to need one, then it couldn't hurt for her to have one either. She pocketed the cylinder, wondering what was happening out there. Jim had told her to run, but now she wasn't sure if she should stay here. He could be in danger. There was no telling what Dwight would do to him.

A new determination filling her, she started back toward the main room. Passing the gargantuan wardrobe on the way, something caught her eye. She paused, fixated on the objects she couldn't quite place. Bending down and brushing away the garish question mark adorned sweater, she couldn't help but smile when she saw what they really were. These would be a great deal of help.

He watched Pam run away, a satisfied smirk on his face, but his shorter-haired assailant remained stoic. Apparently, nothing could deter him from his primary target, not even the escape of another.

While the situation was intensifying by the moment, Jim still couldn't help but laugh quietly. This whole situation was absurd. They were in his destroyed apartment, Pam hopefully barricading herself away in one of the numerous rooms in the TARDIS, while Dwight held him captive by the throat because he was acting on alien programming. It was somewhere he'd never, ever imagined himself, though he'd always suspected that Dwight wasn't completely human.

That thought was of course unflinchingly hypocritical now, being a strange alien hybrid himself, but the truth and insanity within it all still made him laugh.

"Quiet, Time Lord," Dwight ordered, tightening his grip around his superior's throat. Jim showed no signs of distress, only smiling slightly.

"You can call me the Doctor," he replied cheekily.

"Quiet." Jim wrinkled his nose.

"No can do, I'm afraid. If there's one thing I can really do, it's talk."

"Then you will be exterminated."

"Yeah, figured as much." He smiled. "Unfortunately, it's not going to happen. Sorry." His hand shot up, pressing down the button on the side of the silvery cylinder. The end lit up with a brilliant blue light, accompanied by a loud hum. He aimed it right at Dwight's temple. Less than a heartbeat later, he relinquished his grip on Jim's throat in favor of either side of his head, while the taller man took this opportunity to bolt. He passed the TARDIS, Pam joining him as he did so. On their way to what was left of his front door, he spared her a glance.

"You should be in the TARDIS, away from Dwight," he said, but he couldn't hide the edge of pride in his voice. She glanced over to him, deftly avoiding the twisted wood and metal around his doorway, and gave him a defiant grin.

"We work better together," she replied. "Besides, I found a new pair of Keds in the wardrobe. Couldn't let them go to waste." He looked down at her feet, and sure enough, shining white Keds had replaced her dressy heels. Somehow, they looked much more appropriate and gorgeous on her than the heels ever did. As he looked back up, something else caught his eye: the short, silver tube in her hand. A grin spread across his face, and he wasn't sure if he could be prouder.

"You found my sonic lipstick prototype!" he exclaimed happily. "Of everything, you chose the sonic lipstick. God, how perfect are you?" Despite her confused look, she managed a smile.

"You can tell me all about it later. Right now, you can tell me what it does, how it works and why exactly you have sonic lipstick." Her inquisitive raised eyebrows only made him smile.

"Well, it helps my lips look fuller, and the guys really love it." If they hadn't been running for their lives down the corridor of his apartment building, she would've smacked him, but right now she settled for a disdainful look. "Okay," he relented, "it's just called sonic lipstick because it's smaller than my sonic screwdriver -" He held up the silver tube in his hand. "- and I put a red light on the end. Figure that makes it a bit different. Pretty, too." They reached an elevator, Pam pushing the button rapidly as if it would make a difference. They could hear Dwight's pounding footsteps now, and they probably could have seen him as well if their attention hadn't been so trained on the elevator.

While it took its sweet time, Dwight's footfalls grew closer, a thunderous roar in the otherwise silent hall. The residents were sure to be wondering what the hell was causing such a noise. Pam could almost hear Jim's heart beating, a rhythm so constant she swore there were two going in alternating beats, though she couldn't be sure that it wasn't just her own. The situation was dripping with danger, but it was so exhilarating, so different from sitting at her desk taking calls all day. It was close to what she felt when they played pranks, but it was better and worse at the same time - better because it was ten times the rush, the excitement; worse that her life was actually on the line. It was so worth it, though.

"Oh, finally," Jim all but shouted, pulling her bodily into the now open elevator. She looked around, startled, and caught sight of his lopsided grin. "You wanted to know how the sonic lipstick worked. Time for a crash course." The doors closed, Dwight not twenty feet away, and Jim held up his own sonic tool. "Just point the light at the panel and press the button near the top." His voice was calm and patient, not betraying the anxiety anyone else would be feeling in his position, and his smile refused to falter; she did exactly as he said. The tip burst into bright red life, accompanied by a steady hum that reverberated through the small room. A peppy bing was elicited from the control panel, and Jim's grin widened. "Fantastic."

They could hear Dwight banging on the doors, but the sound grew distant already, the elevator moving downward. He'd certainly head for the stairs as soon as he realized he wasn't making this ride. They'd have to bolt when they got to the ground floor. Until then, they could only wait.

"Great job with the sonic lipstick back there," Jim commented brightly. "You catch on quick."

"Having a good teacher helps," Pam replied.

"Yeah, I am pretty awesome." He paused, shaking his head and smiling sheepishly. "Sorry, the Doctor's kind of arrogant."

"You know, people'll think you're crazy if you keep talking about yourself in third person like that, Doctor." His eyes narrowed, but he grinned nonetheless.

"I'm not arrogant." Under her impassive stare, he amended, "Okay, only when the occasion calls for it." Wanting to avoid the subject of how much the Doctor really permeated his personality now, Jim sharply changed the subject. "Why'd you choose the sonic lipstick, of all the things in the shop?" She shrugged, looking distractedly at the chrome cylinder.

"I saw yours and this looked similar. Non-lethal, too. I'd prefer not killing Dwight. It'd bring up too many weird questions, and Angela would probably kill us. She's crazier than she looks."Jim just laughed, knowing it was true. The blonde was a psychopath in disguise.

"That's my girl. Not killing and rooting out the crazies. Try keeping that up from planet to planet, time to time. It's harder than it sounds, and sometime you can't stop it, but it's never your first option. Killing, I mean. Feel free to find all the nutters you want." They exchanged grins.

"So how exactly did you get away from Dwight?" Pam asked a moment later. If at all possible, Jim's grin got wider.

"Just my handy dandy sonic screwdriver and a bit of luck."

"Oh?"

"I wasn't sure what frequency his programming operated on, or if I could even interrupt it. Obviously I could 'cause here I am." She knew he was being purposely vague, but it was probably better that way. It saved him from going into a long-winded explanation, and her from a headache.

"So you just sonicked his brain and hoped for the best?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "It's not like a sonic blaster or anything. It's not even lethal, unless you're an android. Or an Ann-Droid." She gave him a strange look; he smiled. "One of many stories I'll tell you later. Involves the GameStation, Captain Jack, Rose, a few robots and the Daleks, all in the year 200,100." Her strange look turned to an interested, almost amused, grin. "There are so many stories to tell."

"When we're done deprogramming Dwight and stopping a mass Dalek-human uprising, we can spend a whole day just talking about your universal adventures. Right now, I'd just like to know what a sonic screwdriver - or lipstick - can and can't do."

"I'm not exactly sure," he replied, scratching behind his ear. "I'm not even sure the Doctor knew all of its uses. It's sort of a universal tool. The only things it can't do for sure are open deadlock seals and kill things."

"Unless it's an Ann-Droid."

"Right," he grinned. "Unless it's an Ann-Droid. Other than that, I'm not sure what the extent of its ability is. It can break things, fix 'em, read medical conditions, reprogram technology and draw on resonating frequencies, to name a few. It's usually a fly by the moment sort of thing, anyway, which we're going to be thrown into right about -" The elevator binged, reaching the ground floor, and Jim gave her a smile. "- now." Barely missing the opening doors, the pair burst into the lobby. Dwight wasn't there yet, but they could hear his heavy footsteps coming down the stairwell. They bolted outside, Jim unconsciously taking Pam by the hand as they wove through the cars and landscaping. Their pursuer wasn't far behind, breaking through the plant life without regard to their little green existences.

Emerging onto a busy road, Pam was only saved from barreling into the traffic by Jim's firm grip, deftly moving to her upper arm just seconds before. Scranton was a big town, and on a Friday night, it was exceptionally busy, the traffic providing a dull roar along with its slight lethality. She didn't have time to contemplate her near brush with death, though, seeing as it was still chasing them. Fervently, for that matter.

Again they were running, now down a sidewalk littered with people who stared as the energetic young couple rushed past. She lost track of where they were, only knowing that Dwight was still following them and that meant they had to keep running. Past shops, restaurants and bars, they seemed to go on forever. She knew her legs would be killing her tomorrow, but if she was lucky, Michael wouldn't need her for much. Big if.

Right now though, she was still going, and there was no end in sight. Well, at least not to her eyes.

"Oh, fantastic!" Jim exclaimed, stopping suddenly in front of an older building, barred from public entry. With Dwight closing in on them, he hurriedly wrenched the doors open and pulled her inside. It was a cheerless old place, scant rays of light creeping in and adding to the dreary setting. Pam shivered despite the June warmth, taking in the drab, musty room in all its decrepit glory.

"What's so fantastic about it?" she asked, eyes adjusting to the dim light enough to see debris scattered across the atrium floor.

"There aren't any people here. There's no one to get in the way, no one to get hurt by accident," he answered plainly, eying all the exits and intact objects.

"Except for us." He glanced at her, a sly grin on his face.

"But we're different," he replied with a wink. "Always have been. We can fight back. Speaking of which..." He pulled her down to the floor, a piece of what had been the door careening over them a moment later. Up with a jolt they whipped around to see Dwight standing in the doorway, a malicious glare falling on them. Jim smiled sheepishly, then glanced at her. "Pam, run."

"What about you?"

"I'll be right behind you. Just go, please." Unable to resist the pleading look in his eyes, she reluctantly ran away from them, Dwight choosing that exact moment to spring into action as well. He launched himself at Jim, but the latter was unsurprisingly prepared. Sonic screwdriver aimed right between his coworker's eyes, he pressed the button and a low hum erupted into life. Instantly, Dwight recoiled, hands clutching the sides of his head in a desperate need to rid himself of the sudden and driving pain within. Jim took this opportunity to break away from his frog-like coworker, running as fast as he could in the direction of Pam. She'd already arrived at the rickety elevator at the very end of the hall, frantically pushing the button as if it would suddenly spring to life.

"Jim!" they heard Dwight roar as the scruffy-haired man himself reached Pam, sonic screwdriver out and alive. Like it hadn't been decommissioned for three years, the old style elevator whirred slowly to life, motors breaking through layers of rust to carry the platform down to them. It took what could have been an eternity - seven seconds, actually - but it arrived with a wheeze, just as Dwight descended on them. Hastily, before the doors were fully open, Jim pushed Pam in, not too forcefully, and spun around to catch his coworker's wrist in one hand. With the other, he activated the sonic screwdriver, directing it at the elevator control panel. On command, the doors began to shut; Pam realized this just moments too late.

"Jim!" she shouted, echoing Dwight's exclamation from just seconds earlier, but with a much more frightened, pleading tone. He spared her a backward glance, all smiles.

"Just thought you'd like the view from the roof," he replied jokingly; that quickly fell away in favor of a more serious tone. "Can't have you caught in the crossfire. This could get messy." Like an iPod whose cosmic owner had ADD, his mood changed again, a bright glimmer sparkling in his eyes and a slight upward curve on the edges of his lips. She could see something coming together in his mind. "Don't be gone too long, got it? It's a nice view, but there's work to be done." As the elevator began to move up and out of view, she nodded, watching as he was cut from her vision.

Waiting until she disappeared, Jim turned to give Dwight a wry smirk, still holding the intense man's wrist.

"Down to business, then," he stated, none too seriously. Dwight wordlessly grabbed Jim's free hand, the one holding the sonic screwdriver, and fixed a tense gaze on the taller man. They were now even, Dwight holding one of Jim's hands and vice versa. "Okay, we'll skip the sweet talk, but only this one time. I need some romance, you know."

"Be quiet," Dwight ordered, a very familiar gleam in his eyes; Jim noticed this and smiled.

"What, no 'exterminate'? I'm disappointed, Dwight."

"I said be quiet." Jim sucked in a sharp breath, seeming to contemplate it, then grinned.

"Nah. I'm going to keep talking, because I think there's more going on here. See, your last response wasn't very Dalek-like. I think your programming's dying and that means I can..." Suddenly, Jim let go of Dwight's secured wrist, threw his sonic screwdriver down into his now free hand and raised it to his enemy's eyes. Unfortunately, Dwight's reflexes were better than Jim had anticipated, and because of that, his hand was caught swiftly by his coworker's own, who raised it next to the other captured appendage above Jim's head.

"Want to keep talking, Time Lord?" Dwight sneered, an extra venom in the last two words. Jim was becoming increasingly perplexed, scrutinizing his opposite with a confused intensity.

"You're not possible," he murmured. "How are you doing it? Once it kicks in, your programming should be absolute. What happened to you?" Dwight smirked.

"You did," he stated. "If not for your sonic tool, I would be another slave. Thanks to you, I'm in control. I am Dalek, I am human, and I am neither. I'm better than that. So are you."

"Of course I'm better than that. Anything's better than a Dalek," he scoffed. "I'm better than you no matter what race you are. You might be stronger or faster, but you're definitely not better than most humans out there."

"Oh, but I am, for the reasons you listed and more. We're both better than them, Jim, and you know it. They're just humans, scrambling around, trying not to destroy themselves, but we're so much more. We're the best of humanity without its weaknesses. We know what the universe holds, and we know how it works. The strong rule the weak. We're the strong ones, Jim. We can rule them."

"Never thought I'd see the day when a Dalek offered to rule something with a Time Lord," Jim muttered, and Dwight gave him one of his creepy smiles.

"But that's not all we are. We're better than they ever were. It's why we will survive. We are the best of each race. We're the same, Jim." Jim's eyes narrowed, a look of powerful hatred crossing his face.

"We're nothing alike, Dwight," he spat, fervor brimming in his words. "I want to protect this planet. You just want to rule it. I'm a Time Lord. We're supposed to protect time and space, whether my people saw it or not. You Daleks were created by a madman to do nothing more than destroy. What makes you think we could ever work together when we hate each other so much as humans and as aliens?" Another creepy smile, one that gave Jim the chills despite his own harsh exterior.

"But that was when the two were separate beings. Don't you see Jim? We have to set aside our differences and embrace the destiny that has been set in front of us. The world is ours for the taking. No one could stop us." Jim gave a derisive snort.

"Oh, I doubt that," he retorted. "You'd be surprised by how many humans will fight back against all odds, though you're too Dalek to realize it. The whole race is unbelievably resilient when it comes down to it." The bespectacled man wrinkled his nose.

"You sound fond of the apes," he sneered back, a disgusted curl on the edge of his lip.

"And you aren't? You are one of them, at least partially. You can't deny that."

"And I won't. It is a part of what makes me superior, just as your Time Lord blood does. We are above humans because we are not entirely like them. They are weak and blind to the outside world, but we are not, thanks to our extraterrestrial halves." Jim's face scrunched up as if in thought, and he shook his head. He could tell Dwight was getting annoyed, but he pressed on.

"That's not quite right. See, you're just another Dalek. I'm not just any other Time Lord." A wide, brilliant grin overtook his face. "I'm the Doctor. The Oncoming Storm. Daleks fear me. So should you."

"I do not fear."

"I thought you had control over your Dalek half. That seemed awful Dalek-y to me," Jim jibed, enjoying his captor's intensified look.

"I am in control," he responded evenly, eyes narrowing. "Are you refusing my offer?"

"Only if it still stands."

"Then you will die alongside any other dissenting humans." Jim's smile became a wicked smirk.

"And I'd be proud to be there with them, because if there's one thing I've learned from almost two thousand years of travel, it's that humans are some of the most amazing creatures in the universe. They can make you laugh, cry and want to bang your head against a wall - all at the same time if they're skilled. They can astound you with feats of bravery that no other species would show, and they can break your hearts and all the rules with three simple words. They can survive, for all the stupid things they do. Some are damn clever, too. Like, say, the one with the sonic lipstick pointed at your head right now." Dwight's brow furrowed, following the confusion of the man himself. Jim on the other hand just smiled, eyes flicking over Dwight's shoulder. "Really, for a superhuman, you're pretty oblivious. Now!"

Dwight couldn't react quickly enough as Jim's head fell back, dropping the sonic screwdriver into his open mouth just as a bright red light erupted from behind the spectacled man. Seconds later, with some maneuvering, the blue light of the sonic screwdriver lit up Dwight's face, Jim holding the button down between his teeth. The combined power of two sonic tools resonated with the last dregs of programming, sending Dwight to his knees and setting Jim's hands free. The latter let his arms fall to his sides, one hand catching the screwdriver on the way down and keeping it trained on Dwight. Assured that his former captor was staying down under the steady combination of red and blue light, Jim smiled radiantly at Pam, standing opposite him.

"Have I told you how brilliant you are today?" he asked, unable to contain his delight. Enveloped in his happiness, Pam too beamed.

"Just today?" she replied, eyebrows raised in a failed attempt to look serious.

"Oh, every day. Since the moment I met you. You've always been brilliant," he raved, words spewing from his mouth at a million miles an hour. His eyes shone with giddy triumph.

"So have you," she said, and if Dwight hadn't been writhing on the floor between them, she would've kissed Jim right there. Breaking away from the moment, she actually glanced to the man on the floor. "He's going to be okay, right?" Jim too broke away from his jubilant rapture and looked at his desk neighbor.

"Oh, yeah, of course" he replied passively. "He'll be fine. We just have to keep doing this until the programming's been too scrambled to ever do anything again."

"When will we know when that happens?" Of this, Jim was a little less sure, scratching behind his ear and looking sheepish.

"Probably when he stops moving," he admitted.

"So when he's dead," she replied flatly. His eyes snapped to her, urgent.

"No!" he exclaimed, a little too forcefully. As she cringed, he softened his tone. "No, no, not dead. Just unconscious. The shock of the deprogramming should knock him out. Then we can haul him back to the TARDIS and she can dampen his memories of all this. After that, we can drop him off and he'll think it was all a dream."

"And if that doesn't work?" He gave her a wounded look, which only served in making him look adorable.

"Don't you trust me?" he asked, giving her big puppy eyes. Damn Dwight for being in the way; she would have kissed Jim otherwise. Their coworker seemed to have a knack for being a nuisance, even when indisposed.

"Always," was what she settled for though it hardly lived up to what she imagined. His grin began to make up for it, though.

"Good. If that doesn't work, I'll come up with something. It will work, though. The TARDIS hasn't failed me yet." The flailing noise beneath them finally died away signaling Dwight's departure from consciousness. Jim looked down at their former attacker. "It's about time. Let's get him back to the TARDIS." He bent down to pick up the prone man, but Pam just gave him an incredulous look.

"We're going to carry Dwight the six-plus blocks back to your apartment, up the elevator and down your never-ending hallway, all without collapsing or drawing the attention of, say, the police?" At least he had the good grace to look a bit embarrassed by how ridiculous it sounded.

"When you put it that way..." he muttered, a small smile on his lips. "I guess I could just call her to me." Pam matched his smile.

"That sounds much better. I've had my fill of insane exercise for the week." He raised an eyebrow.

"Out of shape, are we Beesly?" She rolled her eyes.

"Sorry that cross-city sprints and all but jumping down fire escapes aren't in my everyday regimen." He grinned.

"I figured that's how you got back down here." He paused, glancing at her appraisingly. "That is how you got down here, right?" She nodded, and he breathed a small sigh of relief. "Good. I was worried you'd try to climb down a gutter if there weren't any fire escapes."

"And if I couldn't get back down?"

"Ah, you would've reworked the elevator to come back down sooner or later."

"By then Dwight probably would have signed you up for his new world order," Pam said lightly, jokingly, but not without a serious undertone. Jim caught this, eyes glancing into the distance as he smiled thinly.

"Yeah, I don't think I'll ever understand him. As humans, we barely get along. As aliens, we're out to kill each other. I don't know where he got the idea we could ever work together just because we're both freaky hybrids. That's where our similarities end." He sounded confident in that, but she could tell he didn't believe it as much as he projected he did. What Dwight had said had troubled him. Taking a breath, she breached the subject quietly.

"I heard what Dwight said."

"Pam, I -" he started but she held up her free hand.

"Let me talk," she stated firmly, looking straight into his eyes. "Maybe he's right; maybe you don't know who you are yet. But I do. I know you, alien or not. Maybe you've got a bit of the Doctor patched here or there onto you, but you're still Jim. You're still the man I love. So what if you're a little bit more arrogant, or you suddenly have a thing for bananas? None of that changes who you really are." She smiled.

"You said it yourself: you're the new Doctor with a new face and a new personality, but it's your face, your personality. Maybe you have to be the Doctor for the universe, but you can be Jim for you. You can be Jim for me."

And before she really knew what she was doing she stepped to her boyfriend, Dwight be damned, and took his face into her hands, pulling him into a deep kiss.