"Doctor!" Clara cried, starting towards him, but he held up a warning hand. Quickly, he pressed a few keys on the console. The TARDIS hummed happily under his touch.

"Soundproofed," he explained, patting the console fondly. "They can't hear us, we can't hear them. Much nicer this way." He grinned. "Something this interesting and it isn't even a Saturday. Must be my birthday, I do lose track of those."

Clara marched up to him and stuck a finger in his chest. "Don't you ever scare me like that again," she told him sternly. "We didn't know what happened, didn't even know if you were coming back, and you waltz in here like it's all some big joke-"

"You're one to talk," he retorted. "Disappearing through a crack in the universe?"

"I only did what you would do."

At her impudent grin, the Doctor beamed. "Oh, come here." He picked her up in a massive bear hug, twirling her around the room, both breathless with laughter. "Good to see you." He set her down with one last hug, though she noticed he let go rather sooner than normal. "John, Sherlock, how are you?"

"Could be worse," John said with a shrug, though he was, in truth, very relieved to have the Time Lord on their side again. "Er… How're you?"

"Perfectly fine. Never better. Right then," he continued, spinning away from Clara and John's concerned glances, "let's get these monitors on, have a look at what's out there." He punched a few buttons, then frowned. "Why are the karaoke bar lights on?"

Clara had the grace to look ashamed, remembering her earlier button-pushing spree. John glanced at Sherlock, who mouthed Karaoke bar? He could only shrug. With a machine this fantastical, he wasn't a bit surprised.

A light blinked on the screen as the Doctor was searching, and he bent forward, frowning. "Oh. They've ground-locked up. That's not very polite."

"Ground-locked, what's that?" Clara asked, eager to divert his attention away.

"What it sounds like, basically," he explained, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "A force-field, essentially. Just strong enough to keep us on the ground. It's a pretty good one, really. Wonder how long that took to make."

"But you can fix it, can't you?" John confirmed. After all they'd gotten out of, this seemed like an idiotic thing to get caught by.

"Oh, yeah," the Doctor assured him, tapping keys. "Big ol' radiation blast, ought to clear it out and send us on our way. Be a hell of a bumpy ride, though. And it'll take a few minutes."

"Let's check up on our friends, then," Sherlock suggested, nodding to the monitors. "Be sure they're still busy."

"Of course." A moment later, though, the Doctor had found the correct button, which turned out to be a lever, and had the screens on. Soon they were all staring out into the bustling laboratory Clara had seen not long before.

The Master and Moriarty cut a prominent hole in the flow of the room, their dark suits a sharp contrast against the sterile white. They were barking orders at flustered attendants.

"Blimey," John muttered, "they do not look happy."

"No, they really don't," the Doctor agreed blithely, twiddling a knob on the console. "I wonder why."

Slowly, the sound from the outer room increased until the TARDIS occupants could make out the hurried conversations.

"-if that radiation needle goes above 240, it's all our heads on the line. Watch it constantly. Go!" The Master dismissed the lab tech with a taut gesture, then turned to Moriarty. "Damn them all to hell. If the Doctor's really woken up-"

"What else can it mean?" Moriarty gestured to a screen they couldn't see. "We've had flares all afternoon, but nothing like this. This much TARDIS activity has to be him."

"You're certain even your precious Sherlock couldn't have managed it?"

With a shrug, Moriarty said, "He hasn't so far."

"How rude," Sherlock commented dryly, eyes fixed on the screen. "It's only been a few minutes." John snickered.

The Doctor glanced over at him, eyebrow raised. "Bet you a lesson and two space squid you can't do it."

Before Sherlock could respond to this unusual offer, Clara hushed them, attention on the screen. All of them, the Doctor especially, were delighted to observe without being observed.

The Master swore again. "This is his fault, you know," he told the consulting criminal. "I'm sure of it. He was ages coming back, what else was he doing but telling the Doctor everything-"

"If you'd managed to get him into the TARDIS, as I suggested, it wouldn't have been an issue," Moriarty retorted. "But it doesn't matter now. We need to play it like he is awake."

The Doctor's mouth twitched, fighting back amusement. "Good move."

"If he is awake," the Master said, staring off at something far in the distance, "then he's probably watching us right now." He turned towards the TARDIS, looking directly at them. "Am I right?"

With a chuckle, the Doctor flipped on the outside sound. "Guilty. Hello. I hope I didn't bungle up your plans too badly." He grinned at his own jest.

"Could have been better," Moriarty admitted with a razor-sharp smile, "but could have been a lot worse."

"Actually, it's hardly even a problem," the Master told them with an effusive smile. "Just a tiny wrinkle in the fabric of my scheme."

"Didn't sound like it was so tiny when he was yelling before," John commented with a snort. Sherlock smiled at him.

"Very true." He glanced up at the monitor. "Maybe you want to explain?"

"With pleasure." The Master grinned, pleased in spite of himself to be able to show off a bit. "See, while you all were off having your little nap, Jimmy here and I have been busy." Moriarty barely suppressed an eye roll. Oblivious, the Master went on. "Things are progressing quite nicely.

"In just a few days, I expect I'll be elected Prime Minister." He tossed them a rakish wink. "Exciting, isn't it? I expect a national broadcast, of course, and by then, any who haven't already succumbed to my drumbeat, will. We had plenty of time to perfect the suggestion technique on you all while you were… away."

"And what about your little assistant?" Sherlock asked pointedly.

Moriarty shrugged off the jibe. "I fade back into the shadows," he answered smoothly. "I've got a lot of work to do."

"Work?" John glanced at Sherlock, then back at the master criminal. "What sort of work?"

"Getting ready for you, of course." Moriarty blinked innocently up at him. "Wouldn't do to meet you like this, I've got so much new information to incorporate. I'll have to prepare a reception - we are British, after all. Have to do things properly." His smile was warm, but his eyes were flat and dead.

"Doesn't that just burn you?" Sherlock asked him with a slight smile - the only hint of the joke Moriarty did not yet understand. "Being tossed aside, working only from the sidelines? He's going to be Prime Minister, for God's sake, and you get… what? A pat on the back?"

"A souvenir key chain?" Clara suggested. Moriarty's lip curled, ignoring her comment.

"You know as well as I do, Sherlock, that it's much more effective to pull strings from behind the scenes and leave the public face up to someone else. Or is there another reason you let Detective Inspector Lestrade take the credit for all your best cases?"

Sherlock said nothing, but his face tightened. As if sensing the source of his discomfort, Moriarty said, "It's when you make a name for yourself, Sherlock. When you get all famous and well-known, people start to notice you. And that's when things get painful. It's a problem, Sherlock."

"I don't doubt it," the detective answered coldly. By the slight widening in Moriarty's eyes, they all saw that he knew he'd touched a nerve. John jumped in to steer the conversation away, knowing exactly where all of this was stemming from.

"So answer me something," he said, ignoring the glances of the others. "How did you start all of this? I mean, if this was all a dream, the whole time, what about the very beginning? Because I watched him disappear," he told them, pointing to Sherlock though he knew neither the Master nor Moriarty could see him. His voice was growing more heated. "I watched him vanish through a crack in space, and all of my friends didn't remember him. And that was in this world, the real world." His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Unless we haven't woken up yet?"

"Dr. Watson, you're overthinking things again," Moriarty told him with no little amusement. "Nothing so impressive. We simply suggested to you what might have happened."

John glanced around at his friends. "Suggested," he repeated flatly. "You suggested that I watch my best friend disappear. Suggested that none of his friends remember him. Suggested that my own wife doesn't know who I am!"

"After the fact, yes," the Master said simply. "There's nothing people trust more than their own memories, and that's really very foolish of them. We kidnapped Sherlock in that alley, just provided enough elements of our own to make it easier later. Flashing lights, a soundtrack, that sort of thing. Primed the area with just enough vortex energy to attract you, Doctor. Then we just brought Sherlock into our lab and waited for you lot to show up. "

"As for your friends, we just dialed up the strength of the hypnosis," Moriarty added with a smile. "Recommended Mary take a spontaneous and secret vacation. As for the rest, well, they may have known who Sherlock was, but we suggested that it might be a bad idea to mention him to you, seeing how he'd been shot and all. You know, in that alley?" He chuckled. "It wasn't terribly surprising to any of them, I suppose. People are so malleable."

"That's cruel," Clara said angrily. She could see John was deeply shaken by this news, though he hid it well. "Messing with people's heads like that, no one should have that power. How do you live with yourselves?"

"The rewards are well worth the small setbacks, I assure you," Moriarty told her. With a grin, the Master added, "I haven't been losing any sleep."

"Nice, good plan," the Doctor told the schemers, pushing a few buttons on the console. "Bit sinister, a tad ominous, but on the whole, very good. Except you've factored without one very important thing."

The Master raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you're going to tell me all about it."

"Absolutely." The Doctor grinned over at Sherlock, wrapping his long fingers around a lever. "See, you've taken two of the greatest minds in the universe and trapped them together in a tiny little box in your lab."

"I don't see the problem," answered the Master with a puzzled smile.

"No, you wouldn't, you villain types never do," the Doctor replied distractedly, punching buttons. In an undertone, he muttered to Sherlock, "Ground-locked override in twenty."

Sherlock nodded. He tapped a button and a glowing countdown appeared on the screen. The Doctor shot him an irritated glance.

"The problem is," he said louder, "that this tiny little box happens to be the greatest box in the universe. Nobody knows everything she does, not even me, and certainly not either of you. But you know what the best bit is?" He winked at Clara as the countdown ticked to zero. "It's a mobile phone. Everybody hold on!" he yelled, pulling the lever.

Instantly, the entire room shook, sending them all reeling. For a moment, the engines churned angrily, like a car revving its wheels. Then, with a lurch and a roar, the center console slowly started to move up and down. The Doctor whooped, and all of them were grinning as the TARDIS soared out of the laboratory and into the freedom of open space.

A.N: Hi guys! Welcome back! I'm pleased to get this done because there were some loopholes I've been avoiding since the beginning that I finally cleared up, which is good. I despise plot holes with every fiber of my being. The next chapter is done as well, actually, so look for that Tuesday.

Thank you for limiting your reviews for me. Do remember that if you have a more specific comment, my inbox is always open, and I'd love to hear from you, you all know that. And that includes this chapter, so please do! Thanks, everybody.

-Forever the Optimist