From the security of the SES office, the Chief and his leading tech watched the scene in the Quark and Banana playing out on one of the surrounding monitors. The technician tapped his claws on the desk, his retracted visor revealing restless obsidian eyes.
"I would question this, Irriden, if that were wise. Whatever our friends are planning, do you think they can contend with two children of Gallifrey? Our scans show they are both timelord, genetics so identical I would suggest they fooled the systems…"
"Our systems are not fooled," the Chief stated.
"That was my conclusion, yes."
"There is only one timelord on Hedonis 4. They are both the same creature from different points in time."
The tech hissed and took a step back from the monitor, as if fearing it might explode. "This is foolishness. Would they destroy us all?"
"Remember your wisdom, Dhoraen. It has been expected. Those that give the orders know what they are doing and we must follow. Without them there is no system, no planetary deed and no livelihood. Obedience is owed and mandatory."
Dhoraen swished his tail with reluctance but bowed his head. "Yes, Chief. What, then, is to be done with The Doctor?"
"They will be brought back into the complex. Once lured, they will be kept there until further instruction. In the meantime, their ships will be taken into the custody of our higher authority."
"And the humans? The Doctor appears familiar with them both."
"Introduce them to the sub-programme. No reason to leave them out."
"Very good." Dhoraen vacated the circle of monitors and moved for the door. His glistening eyes flicked back to his employer. "I would question the need for these…games."
Chief Irriden shook his head warningly. "It is not wise."
Dhoraen grinned with needle-sharp teeth. "I think perhaps I have stumbled across the point." With one last nod of respect, he left Irriden to his station. The Chief continued to watch the drama of the screens, unable to prevent the occasional glance to the menacingly silent wall that made the room smaller than it truly was.
"Seriously, will you two just... stop… fighting?" Rory called helplessly above the clattering in the bar. "Because… if it doesn't rip more holes in time and space… my headache's getting worse."
"That'll be the megabeer you drank," Jack piped up, still seated. "Least that's what I call it. Can't pronounce the name with a human tongue."
"Gahhh!" The Doctor-11 yelled as he was slammed onto a table-top, neon lights flickering under the impact. "This… is… stupid!" He wrested his younger self's hands away from their quest for his throat and hissed over a split lip. "I don't remember having this short a fuse when I was you. I really do hate myself. Just… let… go!"
"Not until you apologise!" The Doctor-10 demanded, his face made more savage by the bloody nose he had received moments earlier.
"I think you've done enough apologising for the both of us!" With a grunt of effort, The Doctor-11 kicked The Doctor-10 into the table behind and sprang upright. "Stop. Think. This isn't how we do things. We talk things through. We don't resort to violence."
The Doctor-10 scoffed. "Did you mean to give this speech before or after the fist to my face?"
"We're talking now."
"I don't feel much like listening."
"Obviously." The Doctor-11 ground his teeth, watching for any sudden moves. "Aside from the fact I still have no idea what I've said to incense you, I know you're better than this."
"Well I think you're embarrassed to be beaten by a younger you."
"Beaten? I'm not so straggly as you, more upper body strength, I've had a lot more practise hitting things and I've got a younger body! What've you got?"
The Doctor-10 sneered. "My fightin' hand!" To his rival's surprise, he leapt at The Doctor-11 once again, both tumbling to the floor.
Rory groaned and looked to Captain Harkness. "Doesn't this place have security? If I owned this place, they'd've been thrown out by now."
Jack shrugged. "I paid 'em off. No way anyone's getting in the way of this fight." He smirked. "How long do you think it'll take for them to start kissing?"
A battle had never ceased so quickly. Both Doctors released their hold and staggered upright, the sheer speed of the move causing them to teeter. Neither one looked at the other, only glared, red-faced at the man finishing his third lejkip.
"That may be how your fights end up, Jack," The Doctor-11 grumbled, shifting a twisted brace into position, "But with normal people, a punch is a punch, no physical double-entendre."
"Except we're not normal people," said The Doctor-10.
"Except we're not normal people," The Doctor-11 repeated, snappily. "But that doesn't mean - ."
"Will both of you shut up and explain what's going on?" Rory interjected. "I mean, you can talk, but, just don't start attacking each other again."
Jack got down off his stool and walked over to the bedraggled timelords just as the two of them opened their mouths. "No, see, here's how it should go. You -," he pointed at The Doctor-10, "should do the talking. Otherwise there'll just be more of the same but less fun to watch."
"Hang on," said Rory. "Why him? The other Doctor's older, more experienced."
"I don't know him as well as mine, and besides, my Doctor's voice is much easier on the ears."
The Doctor-11 scowled.
Rory persisted. "I don't trust the earlier Doctor as much as I trust him. That one hit me."
"You hit Rory?" The Doctor-11 wrinkled his nose at The Doctor-10 .
"I thought he was you!" The Doctor-10 protested. "I did say sorry."
Jack put up his hands. "All right, let's get to the point. What exactly did you do to upset him?" He looked from the man in the bowtie to the one in the longcoat.
"I apparently," The Doctor-11 lathered on as much scorn as he could, "sent him an unsavoury message, presumably including the co-ordinates to find me, though why in the name of sanity I would risk botching the timelines to insult myself and furthermore give him the opportunity for revenge is beyond even my ability to fathom."
The Doctor-10 returned the venom with a withering look of his own and reached inside his coat. "Then maybe you should take a good, hard look and explain - this." He whipped out a piece of paper and unfolded it for all to see. "This arrived in a hypercube, addressed to me. Not only is it written in Old High Gallifreyan, but it's signed in our name, our real name."
"That's not my handwriting," said The Doctor-11.
"Oh come off it," The Doctor-10 snapped. "I know it's you. Why else did I find you here? No one knows our name. Those that did are gone, long gone. Perhaps I'd budge on the modern language, writing forged from studying texts scattered across the universe, but not this. Who else could possibly know how to write this?" He waved the letter so furiously the symbols were a blur. Annoyed, The Doctor-11 snatched it and started to read.
"What about his wife?" Rory suggested, setting his jaw the moment The Doctor-11's eyes shot up from over the top of the letter.
"His what?" said Jack.
"My wi – hold on, did you say wife?" The Doctor-10 spluttered.
Giving up on trying to read beyond the first sentence, The Doctor-11 sucked his teeth and made his uppity retort. "Yes, didn't I mention? You are officially, unofficially, mostly, not quite, but importantly symbolically married. Again. Congratulations."
"What?"
"Well we were a giant robot at the time but I'm sure she'll insist on something more appropriate later when I give her half the chance. Not sure if I intend to, sort of makes it more interesting – haven't actually seen her since the ceremony… think I'll give it a bit. Clever thing about time machines…"
"What?" The Doctor-10 reiterated. His brown eyes blazed murder. "On top of everything, after that," he jabbed a finger at the letter, "you went ahead and got us… I don't believe this. How long have I even been gone? No, I don't think I even want to know."
The Doctor-11 glared angrily at his younger self. He threw the same look at Jack to warn him off the subject before he snapped the paper out in front of him and made a point of continuing. Quickly, he scanned the lines. Within seconds his brow had reached optimum height, his eyes wide, expression pale. "This…"
"Yep." The Doctor-10 nodded.
"This is filthy!"
"Mmhm. Now read the second half."
"I don't know if I -."
"Read."
The Doctor-11 did so. He trembled and pursed his lips. "This, this… no. No one would write this. This is just sick. Sick and, and, and cruel."
"What does it say?" Jack asked.
"Stuff," said The Doctor-11. "It says stuff. Horrible, horrible stuff, and it wasn't me, and I refuse to believe it was her."
After a moment of tense silence, Jack put in, "What about… you know who?"
"This isn't Harry Potter, Jack," The Doctor-10 snapped. "And no, it can't be him. He's dead. Twice dead, stuck in an infinite time loop."
"Is this a timelord we're talking about?" Rory wondered. "Because, from my experience, they seem to do pretty well at getting out of certain doom."
The loud clicking of a Tephalisk tongue seized their attention. The human, the immortal and the timelords turned to see the little black-scaled tech that had assisted The Doctor-11 earlier that day. Standing where the bar floor met the carpeted interior of the main hallways the Tephalisk bowed its head, wire-coiled arms behind its back in a polite gesture.
"Apologies, friends, for interrupting. We believe the problem with your suites properly resolved. We want to assure you that you will not leave here without the treatment you deserve. Please accept admission into the VIP halls of the complex. All of its rooms have been booked for you. Much of the food will not be simulated – signals received by trained chefs waiting on your whim, subject to availability. Furnishings are 75% actual, allowing for a night's rest within the rooms themselves once you wish programmes ended. The offer is extended freely to your associates in good faith."
"Er, thanks," said Rory.
"Whoah, you were both staying in the pleasure suites?" Jack gave The Doctor-11 a coy smile.
"Oi, no, it's not like – they're not just for that sort of thing. Anyway, I came here for Rory. This is Rory's stag party."
"After I've got married," said Rory, adding hastily, "But not to The Doctor."
"Yes. Rory's not my wife."
The Tephalisk clicked its tongue again. They mumbled apologies and looked to one another for answers. The Doctor-11 folded the offensive letter and went to retrieve his jacket from beside the counter.
"Since we're here and being offered first-class treatment for nothin', I'm all for it," Jack said with a shrug. "I've got two Doctors, anything else is a bonus."
The Doctor-10 slipped his hands into his pockets and approached the Tephalisk. "It's all very nice of you, but how is it you've managed to get the whole VIP section? I mean, this place is popular, phenomenally popular. You can't have turfed everyone out."
"A reservation was made," the crocodilian creature replied.
"Who by?" The Doctor-10 asked as The Doctor-11 returned, tweed donned, dabbing a handkerchief at his lip.
The Tephalisk inclined its head and spoke delicately.
"Mrs Song."
