Donna seemed to examine Sara with enlightened curiosity. Sara felt her chest tighten and glanced at the Doctor. He appeared stunned, his hands clenched, his entire face constricted as he stared at Sara with a calculating intensity.

He hadn't anticipated this reaction as he went from analyzing Donna to carefully inspecting Sara. The girl had been present in the void, picking up other particles he couldn't account for. Was there some sort of transfer he didn't previously didn't account for? What was most suspect of the entire situation was that Sara somehow knew of the connection.

This is all wrong. Was this what Donna Noble needed to tell Sara? If it was, she surely didn't anticipate it. She could see the Doctor in her peripheral vision look at her suspiciously.

Donna looked flustered. "I know we've met, I've seen your face before."

Sara took a quick intake of breath. "Are you sure?"

"Well, yah. Don't know where though." She glanced at the Doctor. "Who is this, your boyfriend?"

Sara could not help but let out a snort. "Oh God, no." She rubbed her forehead and leaned against the rail of the porch.

"They work together, Donna, friends of the family," Wilfred offered. It was a decidedly safe choice.

"And you know Gramps here?"

"We go back a bit," the Doctor finally chimed in.

Donna shrugged. "Hmm, never seen you, but her... What's your name?"

"Ah, well, it's Sara," she glanced at the Doctor, "and this is John." She felt relatively secure to use his previous false identity. He, in turn, appeared startled momentarily at the introduction.

"Yes, your name rings a bell." Her eyes appeared distant, still fixed on Sara. "You were at the wedding, weren't you?"

The Doctor was now distinctly alarmed. Donna was associating Sara with the wedding when Donna first met the Doctor aboard his ship. Definite transference. Her memories were being triggered, but instead of being remembering the Doctor, she was remembering Sara. This needed to end now.

Sara was shaking her head mutely to Donna's inquiry as the Doctor took her arm. "We need to go, it's been a pleasure, Wilfred."

Wilfred nodded in silence, apparently stricken as to the turn of events. The Doctor was pulling Sara down the porch and to the sidewalk.

Donna attempted to follow the pair. "But you were there, I remember. You helped me, that's why you're here."

Sara froze. "How?" She turned to Donna. "Why am I here?"

"Sara," the Doctor whispered fiercely. "We need to go, now." Would he be forced to watch Donna die right before his eyes again, with no recourse to stop the action? Why wasn't his newest passenger picking up on the clues after his careful warning? She was being reckless, while it seemed apparent to him that the Doctor-Donna version was about to burst through the walls of her subconscious.

"No, let go of me." Sara attempted to jerk away, but his grip remained firm. "Don't you see? She obviously doesn't remember you!" He insistently was dragging her back through the yard.

"Hey, you there!" Donna called after the Doctor. "What do you think this is, the dark ages? What are you doing to her?"

"You have to let me talk to her!" Sara protested, but the Doctor wasn't listening. She gritted her teeth, having finally reached her wits end. "Donna!" She screamed. "He's-please, help me!"

"Sara-" The Doctor glanced around, neighbors were coming outside, witnessing the scuffle that was happening outside. Everything was rapidly getting out of hand, a decision had to be made soon, and fast. He moved quickly, gripping Sara by both her arms, yanking her to him.

Wilfred was with Donna, clutching onto her as she attempted to pull away, gazing at Sara with apparent concern. "What's that tosser doing to her, Gramps? You can't just let him!"

"Wait, she knows why I'm here! Get off me!" His hands clamped down on her head. "No!" He ignored her protest, the command was already given:

Sleep.

She suddenly collapsed against him, rendered unconscious at his touch. He loathed performing the command again, but what choice had she left him? He scooped her up quickly.

"What did you do?" Donna demanded. "Gramps, stop." Wilfred was trying to pull her back. "You saw he did something to 'er, working together my arse."

"Oh, she'll be all right," the Doctor said quickly.

"And what are you, an expert?" Donna challenged.

"I'm the D-" He cut himself off as Wilfred looked at him in panic. "I'm a friend." He glanced down at Sara. "Just got of hospital, this one, low blood sugar. I need to get her home."

Donna glared at him suspiciously and looked back at Wilfred. "Gramps, you really know this guy? He's safe, you swear?"

Wilfred looked at the Doctor with a certain measure of weariness. "Yes, I know him." He nodded to the Doctor in affirmation, who returned the gesture before carrying Sara back in the direction of the Tardis.

The neighbors' curiosity was mildly satiated as they started to return to their homes. Domestic squabbles hardly struck a chord with them, since their planet had been the hunting ground of aliens. Donna Noble and the family often seemed to attract the most unusual visitors on average, this was nothing in comparison.

"You better bring her back, you here?" She said to the Doctor's retreating figure. He paused momentarily, glanced back at her with an expression of perpetual sadness. It was fleeting as he turned and continued his progression.

"I'm not mad," she attested to Wilfred. "I know that girl."

She woke back in her room or, rather, the room that had been allotted to her by the Tardis. It came back to her in one quick onslaught of memories, meeting Donna, being recognized by her, being dragged off, and then, nothingness.

This dimension was nothing, if not consistent, consistently miserable.

"I had no choice."

Sara immediately glanced up at him. "You had every choice." She shook her head. "You didn't even hear her out."

He appeared wary. "Sara, I told you, if her memories returned for an instant-"

"But they weren't, she remembered me."

"And why is that?" His eyes narrowed. Further scans revealed no new information. It presented a very frustrating problem, which offered only a few solutions. Risks were involved. As a time lord, he could use hypnotism to access her mind, although some humans were resistant to the use of the procedure when performed by other humans, time lords often considered their use of hypnotism primitive. The way they invoked this ability, especially on a human mind, no resistance could be offered.

If Sara was unwilling to share what she knew, he might have no other choice but to bore inside her thoughts. The risk involved the possible paradoxes she might unwittingly reveal to him in that state. There was also the possible risk of damage to the cerebrum, since he would be forcing his way in and opening the portion of her mind that contained memories. It would take consideration.

She pushed herself off the bed. "Well, gee, Doctor, you know, I could have asked and you know, followed up." Her sarcasm was evident as she circled round to the door. "But then you knocked me out."

Donna knows something. Maybe she could still see her, the Doctor had been rash. If she alone could go and…

"That was fifteen hours ago," he said. "We've moved."

"Fifteen hours?" She repeated incredulously. "I was asleep for…" She glanced at the delta wave augmenter as the pieces fell into place. "Why?" She demanded. "I said I didn't want it!" Her fury took hold. "You promised-" She faltered, he hadn't actually promised anything. He had simply disregarded her request, like an idiot, she assumed he would give her some level of respect.

He met her gaze stoically. "I did what was necessary." Humans, Americans in particular, seemed to thrive on sleep and food deprivation. He didn't fully understand it. He figured that was part and parcel why he chose to visit Europe more frequently. Nyssa understood the need for the device after her mental disorientation with the Urbankans, but then again, he didn't induce her collapse.

Sara remained an obstinate but wholly perplexing mystery to him. He reflected on how time travel was created on Gallifrey. There were disturbing parallels between his findings with Sara and how the star Qquaba was destroyed to produce the energy source to enable the ability to travel through time.

It was disturbing if that was indeed the case. Omega had fallen into the black hole of the collapsed star as a result where he formed an accretion disk to create matter inside. The results were his very own pocket reality, but it slowly ate away at him driving him to the brink of insanity by the time he emerged. He was a time lord, and Sara was only human. To remotely consider that she had picked up anti-matter in the void with particles of a reminiscent of a pocket universe would have dire consequences. He needed confirmation beyond mere speculation.

"What was necessary," she repeated. "Fifteen hours was necessary? I would call that excessive."

He was silent and her eyes narrowed accusingly. "What were you looking for?"

"An explanation," he said truthfully.

"Did you find one?" She asked, her tone flat.

"Not yet." He shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"So am I." Silence emanated throughout the room, and, once again, she felt betrayed. Her knowledge of the Doctor seemed to be a curse. Watching the show on TV had been simpler, uncomplicated, and, more importantly, fiction. That was the difference between forcing to accept him as reality as opposed to a figment of the imagination.

"Where are we?" She wanted no more surprises, predictability had its virtues.

"London, Mid-nineteenth century." He paused. "It's snowing outside and I thought.."

"You won't take me back?" She asked reflecting on Donna's words. You helped me, that's why you're here. Donna might know why Sara was there. There had to be a reason, and somehow Sara felt incontrovertibly linked to the woman.

"I can't," the Doctor said flatly. "I won't risk it."

Sara knew it was a pointless to argue with him. "So we're in the eighteen hundreds instead?" Seems familiar.

"Victorian London, it's a fantastic time. It's…"

He continued to prattle, but Sara wasn't listening, striving hard to keep what little she ate within her stomach. Oh, she remembered this episode with the Cybermen attacking the downtown area. She had no desire to be taken and updated by them, which was a very real risk if she stepped outside that door. No, being imprisoned on the Tardis was preferable. After all, the Doctor managed to extinguish the threat quite successful by himself.

"I think I'm still tired," Sara tried to a give a convincing yawn. "I'll just sit this one out."

His eyes narrowed on her. "What's wrong?"

It was a loaded question. She wondered whether she shouldn't just be upfront, tell him what happened here and then he could leave well enough alone.

"I…." She paused. "I think I know what happens."

He took on a serious expression. "You think?"

"I saw it on TV."

"Sara, you can't-"

"Doctor, there are Cybermen out there. If I'm right, it's Christmas Eve and-"

"If that's true, then I need to go out there."

"Then leave me here," she pleaded. "I've seen this episode before, I'll just get in the way."

He looked at her doubtfully. Previously, she had told him that the program about him in her reality was exaggerated. As impossible as it seemed that his life could be masqueraded as a show on the telly, he accepted it on a level given the sheer number of alternate dimensions, which were in the billions. However, in terms of accuracy from what he knew of entertainment, it was given to high amounts of melodrama.

"I can't just leave you alone, onboard the Tardis. It's one of the most powerful ships in the universe, and I won't risk having you both stolen at the same time," he said flatly.

She turned away from him shuddering. He continued to persist. "Nothing will happen to you, I promise. As soon as this is over, I'll take you back."

"Is this all fun and games to you?" She asked incredulously. "People are going to die. Some already have, the children-"

"I never said death was fun. I did say you had an opportunity to matter. You can choose that right now." He raised his eyebrows. "What will it be?"

She balked at this and moreover wanted to hate him for forcing her into this predicament. That was part of her inner resentment. She couldn't find the means to hate the man responsible for destroying her life. Now he was directly challenging her to not be a coward.

Sara found herself reluctantly agreeing.

The dress was a nightmare. She gritted her teeth as she navigated lacing up a corset by herself. She managed to locate one in the wardrobe room that would tie up in front, which seemed to be a novelty, because the alternative would have been to request assistance and that would have been a profound embarrassment.

Once she did lace it so the ends closed, she could hardly take in any air. She could manage shallow breaths, but that remained the extent of what the stiff material would allow. Knowing the year of their arrival, she did pick a dress styled for eighteen fifty. Fashion in the Victorian era from she derived, since in the wardrobe room was sectioned by decade, changed fundamentally every ten years. In her opinion, the mid nineteenth century for women was the most impractical. They were still wearing hoop skirts and crinoline undergarments. She picked a dress in a burgundy shade, never caring about pastels. Technically, wearing this during the day would be a fashion faux pas. A woman was expected to wear a lighter colored day dress before changing into an evening gown, but she doubted the Doctor would be likely to return before nightfall to observe this custom.

She used a curling iron in imitation of the hairstyle of the period, however, this also proved frustrating. Her straight brown hair was often too thick to take an actual curl, and today seemed to prove no exception. Had she known specifically they were going to this time period, she might have navigated the use of rag curls. She shrugged and tossed the accessory back where she found it. Looking at herself critically in the mirror, she carefully pinned her hair in a Gibson style up do. It wasn't perfect, but it was passable, and there was only so much discomfort she could manage.

She had asked why she couldn't just go in the clothes she was wearing, since the Doctor wasn't changing his attire. He simply shook his head in refusal prompting her memory to the time when he and Rose had encountered Queen Victoria whom had banished them both by the time the story reached its conclusion. He might not stand out in the clothing he persisted to wear, but Sara definitely would.

She pinned a black shawl into place and finally emerged.

"You look-" He started to say.

"Don't." She cut him off. "You have no idea how uncomfortable this is." Truly, if men were forced to wear a corset, their perspective of suffering might be quite different. She could already feel her ribs being compressed together, the fine boning within the contraption digging into her flesh.

He grimaced. "Fair enough." There was little else he could say, given her recalcitrance. She was already terrified of leaving the Tardis, which had been unexpected but given that she mentioned cybermen, it was a considerably understandable fear. For many humans, it would be a fate worse then death.

They emerged from the TARDIS under a stone bridge, and the driving snow caused Sara to pull the shawl in more tightly around her body. Despite the chilly weather, the Doctor seemed to be in immeasurable glee as he turned around, taking in the sights with considerable excitement. She was curious as to what the novelty was, since he had visited this era far more then once.

Of course, she might have been tempted to share in his enthusiasm if she wasn't burdened with the knowledge of what was to occur. Can't he ever have a normal Christmas?

They were approaching an open market place that was decorated appropriately for the holidays with green garlands and red ribbons complete with carolers singing in distinct harmony in front of the stalls. She looked curiously at the stands selling various Christmas ornaments, candied apples, meat pies, and chestnuts. Never had chestnuts before, I wonder what they taste like.

The Doctor proceeded to a boy selling newspapers, and she looked at him in bewilderment. What is this, test?

"You there, boy. What day is this?" He asked.

"You didn't believe me?" She muttered, nearly under her breath. He glanced at her with an expression indicating silence. She sighed, shaking her head in impatience.

"Christmas Eve, sir."

"What year?"

If only she could back away, but he still retained a grip on her elbow. The boy gave her a perplexed expression. She was sorely tempted to tell the boy she wasn't associated with the Doctor. Yes, I could tell him he just escaped from Bedlam. It wasn't that difficult a stretch, the Doctor was mad after all, so he would fit right in with the inmates there. She barely suppressed a giggle at her inward joke.

The boy was examining the Doctor cautiously, "Are you thick or something?"

"You have no idea," Sara muttered.

The Doctor shot her a reproving glance and returned to the boy. "Oi, just answer the question."

"Year of our Lord 1851, sir."

The Doctor nodded in confirmation and flicked his eyes to Sara. "Right, nice year, but a bit dull."

The boy cast him an expression of disdain before moving on.

"Believe me now?"

"I never said I didn't believe you before."

"You didn't have to, must be convenient that way."

She turned, attempting to listen through the crowd at the market. Where was she? Had they missed them entirely?

"What are you looking for?" The Doctor examined her curiously. The only details Sara made mention of were cybermen before they left the Tardis. Of course, revealing too many details of the future had consequences. As a time lord, he had the burden of knowledge of fixed points in times, and he never intended to travel to those periods of history. Attempting to change those could rip the very fabric of reality where, in worse case scenario, time would simply die with all points in history rippling together all at once.

He had heard cases in the academy where time lords previously attempted to meddle with fixed points, but in his experience time often reasserted what was meant to be. Humans might call it fate.

His question immediately became apparent as a woman's voice managed to project through the crowd. "Doctor!"

The Doctor was taken aback and glanced at Sara and the surrounding vicinity looking for where the call originated.

"Doctor!" The yell became more apparent. "Who, me?" He asked Sara briefly, before seizing her hand and taking off at a run.

By the time they reached the alleyway where the woman was waiting impatiently, Sara felt as though she had compressed several organs. The pain alone was disorienting and with the way the corset was designed, she couldn't catch her breath. Why did I do this to myself? Her abdomen and ribcage were throbbing in agony, and Sara leaned heavily against the wall and placed her hand over her abdomen. The pain eased somewhat, and she glanced at the woman who was impatiently waiting for her doctor's arrival.

"Doctor!" The woman was shouting again. The Doctor immediately grabbed her arms and attempted to move her to the side in an attempt to take control of the situation. Sara couldn't help but find the opposing woman's outfit far more practical, if not, however, less warm, dressed in a chemise, a black and beige bodice with matching skirt that contrasted the woman's dark skin appealingly. It was curious that her outfit seemed strangely out of place for the given time period, but then the woman's occupation was never clearly defined.

"Don't worry, don't worry, stand back." He gestured for them both to move further up the alley and away from the wooden doors that were bolted but seemingly straining from something throwing itself against them. "What have we got here?"

Growling started to emerge and Sara found herself stepping away. The Doctor, however, seemed intrigued by it. "Ooh." He turned to them. "Okay, I got it. Whatever's behind that door, I think you should get out of here."

Finally, the first sensible thing he said since we got here!

Sara raised her eyebrows, offering him a smile. "She's actually not talking to you, but sure, I'll leave. You can have this, see you back at the Tardis." She turned to head out of the alley.

The Doctor glanced hurriedly at her. "What?" Back to the Tardis? She can't-

The woman cried out again frantically as Sara backed away from the pair. "Doctor!"

The Doctor was utterly dumbfounded. Has she lost her wits? "I'm standing right here, hello."

The woman shook her head in refusal. "Don't be so stupid. Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor."

She was perplexed. "Doctor who?"

It was relatively amusing hearing it said aloud, and Sara allowed herself to chuckle as she started to head towards the marketplace. The Doctor could surely handle this debacle. She had actually never tasted roasted chestnuts before, and the street vendor appeared to be selling them. He surely wouldn't begrudge her a sample.

"Sara, stay right there." He managed to grab her arm just before she left his line of sight. Why do they never listen? Why do they always wander off?

"But you said I could leave." She folded her arms across her chest looking resentful.

"I was talking to her." He pointed to the woman who was eyeing them both with suspicion. "Just stay here."

"But-"

"-stay here. Do not wander off." He looked at Sara fixedly, and finally she relented, leaning against the wall.

Here turned back to the woman. "It's just the Doctor."

"Well there can't be two of you," she responded scornfully.

Never say never.

Another figure rushed in, the woman's doctor, Sara knew. Generally a pleasant looking man dressed period specific with a red vest and beige overcoat. Remembering what had transpired for him, Sara felt overwhelmed with empathy for him.

"Don't worry, stand back. What have we got here, then?" The man exclaimed.

The Doctor was genuinely confused, "Hold on, hold on. Who are you?" He turned to face the individual.

The man was lacking in nothing if not confidence. "I'm the Doctor, simply the Doctor. The one, the only, and the best."

He turned to face the woman. "Rosita, hand me the sonic screwdriver."

Oh right, that was her name. I knew it had something to do with Rose.

The object Rosita handed over to him was too small for Sara to get a good look at. The Doctor was apparently stunned that he had an imposter. The look on his face was comical.

"What?" He was shocked at the mere mention of his tool.

The man gestured to Rosita. "Now quickly, back to the Tardis."

"What a good idea," Sara muttered.

The Doctor was still sputtering. "Back to the what?"

The other man seemed to take full notice of them both for the first time. "Stand back, sir," he nodded to her, "miss." He attempted to push the Doctor aside to where Sara was standing. "This is a job for a Time Lord."

Sara decided it was apt time to warn the Doctor. "It's not like it seems," she tried. "It's-"

But the Doctor's attention was too diverted on the newcomer. "A what lord?" My next regeneration? Did Sara not mention this because she thought it was a paradox?

She tried again, "Doctor, something has happened to him. He's-"

The door burst open, and Sara couldn't help but gasp. On TV, the Cybershade was a bit cheesy and appeared similar to an overgrown monkey, but in reality the metal that covered the creatures face was vastly stretched and deformed. Its eyes that rotated between shades of dark green and black glimmered beneath the interior. The body was huge and appeared to be black, but as light hit the fur, it gave an alternating tint between lavender and navy. Sara could even smell the creature as well as its saliva, and she could very well fathom what was glistening beneath that mask.

The Doctor immediately reached for his screwdriver in his pocket muttering, "Oh that's different."

The creature had already started to charge at the two men. Sara took a swift intake of air, feeling lightheaded.

The other man pointed his own metal device at the beast while commenting, "Oh, that's new."

The Doctor shoved her further back and behind the pair while keeping his eyes on the threat before him. Sara didn't say a word in protest, as she stared at the creature stricken. Not like TV, not like TV at all.

The creature suddenly altered course and skittered up a wall, around the two men, charging straight for her. Sara was frozen, caught making direct eye contact with the beast. It was going to attack her and tear her apart. I don't want to die like this! Sara closed her eyes.

A/N: I wanted to thank Fan Fiction Authoress for helping Beta my revisions. Please check out her new story located in the same community, and thanks for your patience with my revisions.