So, the story's obviously winding down now, but this is not the end! The Axiothe Field still has a lot of work to do.

We left off on the roof of the Estate, things have got pretty hairy...

This is another pretty weird chapter. You should know that my area of expertise is not finance nor business, nor anything of that ilk! Neither are biology/medicine nor computers. (As it happens, I know quite a bit about history, linguistics, religion, and interpersonal dynamics... which do come in handy from time to time in fanfic!) To a certain extent, I am willing to read up on things, in order to get my fanfic ducks in a row, but there are a handful of topics that bore me to tears, and finance/business is one (two?) of them. So, I did some rudimentary research, and found out more or less what I needed to know to write this chapter, but I may have still got it wrong as far as the logistics, dynamics, ins-and-outs or whatever, of finance, business, and fraud. I tried, though, so please bear with me!

So, this is where Stephanie and Daniel's first meeting comes into play...

Enjoy!

SIXTEEN

To everyone's mild surprise, Sam, The Reasonable Henchman had chimed in. He showed his concern for the consequences of this pursuit, namely the deaths of innocents, ensuing chaos, prison.

"Sir, I think perhaps it might be wise to begin minimizing the damage here," Sam tried. "It might not be the worst idea just to get back to London ASAP and pretend we were never here."

"Shut up!" Daniel Edge shouted.

The Doctor had Edge in his sights, though was trying, as usual, for a peaceful resolution. "One last chance. I've got a device that can scramble your neurotransmitters, and shutter all memories of Curtis into oblivion. So, bugger off, or brain damage. Your call." And he aimed the sonic screwdriver at the TARDIS, whose door was still standing open.

But before he could press the button, the lift went "ding" once again, and three people stepped out.

One of them they all recognised as Stephanie Havilland, in her familiar Middlesex sweatshirt. Another was an older man dressed in a grey cardigan. The third was a tall, aquiline, smart-looking, middle-aged woman.

She brandished a badge and announced herself, "Inspector Marie Spoonick, Scotland Yard. Mr. Edge, we need to talk."

Daniel Edge completely ignored her, and looked right at Stephanie. "And so she appears."

"And so she does," Stephanie replied, calmly.

"Weren't you just in London two hours ago?" he asked.

"I was. As were you, I think."

"How the hell did you get here so fast?"

"Same as you," Stephanie shrugged. "Helicopter. Though, I don't have my own, funnily enough, so had to borrow one from law enforcement. But they were happy to oblige. Law enforcement are quite handy to have about when you've got evidence they want."

"What evidence?" Edge asked. "That I talked to some retard in Leeds about you?"

"No, of fraud. And possibly embezzlement, though that's a bit more complicated," she said, cheerfully.

Edge laughed. "Oh, I knew you were adorable, but this… this… oh, this is really one for the books. If possible, it makes you even cuter than you already were!"

"Daniel, do you remember where we met?" Stephanie asked him.

"Yeah, at the Barbican."

"Mm-hm," she agreed. "The Barbican Exhibition Hall, at a finance conference. I'm actually kind of surprised you remember."

"The Barbican – what of it?"

"In all this time you've been hounding me, being a complete pain in the arse, has it never occurred to you to wonder what I was doing there? And in all the times you've come to the university to accost me after class, have you ever asked me what I'm studying? No! Because if you can't drink it or fuck it, you don't care about it."

Martha couldn't help herself – she burst out laughing, then quickly stifled it.

"I asked you! I must've done!"

"Now, come on, Daniel, does that sound, in any way, like something you would do? Do you ever ask people about themselves, if it isn't directly affecting you?"

"See? Told you," the Doctor sang at Edge.

"You've known me for over a year, but do you know how many siblings I have? Where I grew up? What my dad does for a living?" Stephanie asked.

Edge sighed. "Okay, no. So what?"

"But you did ask me if I was a natural ginger, and how many tattoos I have. By the way, I lied to you about that one. You asked me if I own a bikini, and if I had ever considered plastic surgery. You know where I live, and where I attend classes, and what my favourite cocktail is, all of which benefits you, in some lecherous, dickhead way. But my major? The thing I've chosen to study and devote my life to? The thing that occupies my mind most of the time? No. But believe me when I tell you, you should have asked."

"Because I need to cultivate having a soul?" he asked her, rolling his eyes. He pointed to the Doctor. "Has this wanker got to you?"

"You definitely need to cultivate having a soul, but at this point, it might be too late. I'm just saying, if you weren't such a self-centered prat, you'd have asked what I study, and might have had the bloody good sense to leave me alone."

"What the fuck does that mean?" he spat.

"What does it mean? I study finance, arsehole. It means that I understand a lot more than you think I do, about your family. It means that when I get a bee in my bonnet about a man committing fraud, I know exactly who to call, and where to look, to get answers."

"What bee in your bonnet?"

"Do you know what I was doing all last night, Daniel?"

"No. I only know what you weren't doing."

"I was with these lovely people," she said, smiling at Tim. "Tim Malmay, and his friends, the Doctor and Martha Jones. We drove around the city looking for you, and more importantly, looking for Curtis. And we talked, as we drove. We talked a lot about bars in the area, hotels, and the like. And… shell companies! Dun-dun-dunnnn….."

"Shell companies?" Edge asked, showing his first-ever sign of discomfort. He crossed his arms over his chest, and said, "Well, shell companies are perfectly legal."

"Yes, but they are often used to do illegal things," she said. "See, I've got this friend, Gemma, who works in the registrar's office at the university – you're not the only one with friends there. And it occurred to me that her boyfriend did some work for a company called Verge Interiors."

"Verge Interiors?" asked Edge, feigning ignorance.

"Which reminded me of something I learned in one of my finance classes: Verge Interiors is suspected to have been a shell company associated with Edge Enterprises. That's your company, isn't it? Not your dad's – that's Edge, Inc. – but yours. Daniel Edge, C.E.O. Not that you ever do any actual work, but whatever. So, overnight, I went to talk to the very professor who had imparted this information during a lecture. Since you didn't ask, this nice man standing next to me is Dr. Hollis Dibbins."

"What the fuck?" Edge asked, looking back and forth between Stephanie and Dibbins.

"Hello, Mr. Edge. I have to admit, I think you're a terrible person, and so is your father, but it's kind of a coup to meet you in-person." Dibbins said, with a wry smile.

Stephanie continued, "Well, he had only mentioned the Verge/Edge connection during class in passing, so I didn't have any details. But I had read about Verge in the newspapers at the time, and I started to suspect… a thing. It was an inkling… a shadow of an idea. So I asked for Dr. Dibbins' help. He put me in touch with people, who put us in touch with other people, and we were able to connect the dots. Dr. Dibbins, would you like to take over from here?"

"Oh, no, Stephanie, this is your show," he said, still with a wry smile, looking over his glasses at Daniel Edge.

"Okay, Daniel, so, I'll just tell you what I learned. Verge Interiors was a company that existed for about a year, from April of 2005 to June of 2006. So, fourteen months, actually. And they contracted out to a number of small individual interiors companies – decorators, woodcarvers, flooring and carpeting designers, et cetera – promising several big projects with huge payouts, that they could never achieve on their own. But as a conglomerate under one large corporate heading, they were able to secure work in five casinos in both Blackpool and Atlantic City, and five hotels in Britain, all around the same time. Those casinos and hotels were owned by… ah yes, Edge Enterprises! But, here's the beautiful part: when Edge Enterprises paid for those services, they wrote out a check to… anyone? Anyone?"

"Verge Interiors?" Curtis asked.

"Bravo, young man," Dibbins said, cheerfully. "Mind if I…?"

"Be my guest," Stephanie said.

Dibbins took it from there. "Verge Interiors! Which then, not surprisingly, went under, declaring themselves bankrupt. They paid their office employees a severance amounting to about five hundred thousand pounds, and disappeared. Weird, eh? Thing is, about a year ago, someone started to put it together, and some rumblings of Verger as a shell of Edge Enterprises started to surface, but no-one could prove it. If it were true, it would mean that you, Mr. Edge, found a way to get your casinos and hotels built and furnished by artists at the top of their game… without paying any of them for their services. That would amount to, I estimate conservatively, a forty-five-million-pound fraud. Probably higher."

"So, they called me," said Inspector Spoonick. "I've been on a team investigating your family on the side, for years. This particular case had been somewhat on my radar, but when they told me they could produce a check stub for twenty-thousand pounds that Verge wrote to one of its employees, dated two days before the company shut down, I figured it's not hard proof but it was good enough for me. It might be flimsy, but it's got a shot at getting the ball rolling, that will eventually take you down… you, and by extension, your vile, cheating family."

"It won't hold up in court," Edge said, with a flick of his eyebrow, not bothering anymore with denial.

"Maybe, but it gets your sorry arse into jail for tonight, and opens up a brief that could put you in prison for the next ten years. And that makes me want to do a little happy dance," Spoonick said, with a vindicated smile. "Daniel Edge, I'm placing you under arrest."

"Yes!" Martha could not help but shout.

The henchmen immediately let go of Curtis and Tim. The brothers hugged, and Sam bent forward, bracing his hands on his knees, visibly relieved.

"You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you may later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?" Spoonick said to Edge.

She walked around him as she spoke, and handcuffed him.

He chuckled. "You know, ordinarily, I don't mind being handcuffed by a woman, but you're on the severe side. You might want to soften up a bit, love. Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired."

"Uh-huh," Spoonick said absently. She turned to Stephanie as soon as Edge was restrained. "He'll likely only spend a night or two in jail, and I can't stop him from bothering you once he's out on bail, especially if you've got no proof at the moment. You might want to start working on a restraining order. You'll have to build a case for harassment."

"Great," Stephanie sighed.

"Ah, see, now," the Doctor interjected, stepping forward into the fray. "That's where I might have a solution."

"Hello, Doctor," Spoonick said with a little bow, and a smile.

He smiled back. "You know me?"

"I was there a month ago when there was an unidentified large animal on the roof of the Leeds City Museum, as well as a heavily-armed woman atop the City Hall. I was impressed with your work."

"Oh. Thanks."

"Since then, I've looked you up. UNIT have good things to say about you."

"Really? That's a first."

"You have a solution?" she asked. "To the harassment issue?"

"Yeah, well, it's not a good solution, but it will make him leave Stephanie alone," he said.

Edge burst out laughing. "Oh right… you're going to scramble my brains!" He continued to cackle.

Spoonick looked at the Doctor.

"If you've looked me up, then you know my M.O., yeah?" he asked her.

"It's usually a bit weird."

"Alien, you mean," Martha said.

"Well, yes," Spoonick admitted reluctantly.

"I've devised, in my bit-weird-alien-way, a method of making Edge forget that any of this ever happened. It will definitely mess with his brain. The possibility of scrambling it exists as well… though it could go either way."

"He'll forget about me?" Stephanie said.

"I could never forget about you, lovey, lovey!" Edge practically shouted. Then he sort of stumbled toward her, apparently looking for a kiss, and she moved instinctively out of the way. He fell in a comical heap beside her.

And he laughed.

Everyone in the vicinity just stared at him for a moment. Daniel Edge was very often unhinged, but not in this way.

"Er… are you okay?" the Doctor asked him. "Sam, help me get him up?"

The two men grabbed Edge under the arms and stood him up again.

"Thanks guys," said the semi-delirious playboy. "Sam, you're the best. And you… whoever you are."

He had said this last bit to the Doctor, who just grunted, and moved away.

"He won't forget about you," the Doctor said to Stephanie. "But…"

"Who are all these people?" asked Edge, looking at Curtis, Tim, and Martha.

"You don't remember Curtis?" the Doctor asked, eyes narrowing at him, the way Martha's had previously. "Curtis Malmay? Red sweatshirt, draws really well?"

"Er, no," Edge said, looking Curtis over with disdain.

The Doctor's jaw dropped, as all of the players looked at each other in confusion.

"What's happened?" Martha whispered.

"Do you remember coming to Leeds?" Sam asked his boss.

"Pff, no! Leeds? No fucking way!"

"But you remember me?" Stephanie asked.

"Of course," he said to her. "You are unforgettable."

"Oh, boy," she sighed.

"Stephanie doesn't want to get involved with you, Daniel," Martha said. "What will you do about that?"

Edge laughed. "I've got a fucking yacht. She'll come around."

"So, you're just going to continue to show up after class, and tell her about how fabulous you are?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I guess. Women can't resist me. In the end, they all spread their legs for me." He then seemed to see Martha for the first time. "Speaking of which…"

"Oh, don't even start," she said. She turned to the Doctor. "What the hell is happening?"

He had been watching wide-eyed, and said, "We fed his DNA into the Axiothe Field's energy. The Field is sentient, and has a presence in the TARDIS. I think it found Daniel Edge, and did our work for us."

"The somewhat messy work, that might have given him brain damage…"

"Is now highly refined, and made him only momentarily addled. The Axiothe got between him and Curtis, and that's it. So everything associated with learning about Curtis' ability… gone. Including you and me."

"I don't understand a single thing that has happened in the last five minutes," Sam announced.

"Never mind," Spoonick told him. "Samuel Henderson, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I'll need you to come in for questioning. Actually, all you black suits," she said.

"Lead on," Sam said by way of assent, and gestured toward the lift.

"Mr. Edge, do you know why you are being arrested?" asked Spoonick.

"Er... something about Verge?" he asked.

"Right. Let's go," she said.

But, as a coda to the chaos, the momentarily unsupervised Edge advanced one more time on Martha, and said, "I don't know who you are, but you've got a crackin' arse."

"Back up, Mr. Edge."

"And if I weren't cuffed..." he continued, advancing further.

"Back. Up."

"I would have my hands all over you."

"And I would do this," she said, a split second before her fist made contact with his nose and left cheek.

"Martha!" the Doctor cried out instinctively. In fact, everyone made a surprised exclamation of some sort.

It made a smack-thud sound, and caused Edge to recoil from her, stumbling about. "She assaulted me! You saw! Everyone saw!"

"I saw nothing," Spoonick said, and she wrenched the cuffs backward, twisting his arms behind his back even further, causing him to grunt. "Let's go… march."

And with that, Daniel Edge, Sam, and three other henchmen filed out, along with Inspector Spoonick.

The Doctor, Martha, Tim, Curtis, Stephanie, and Dr. Dibbins now all closed into a small circle. Stephanie introduced her professor to everyone.

Martha then asked her, "What are you going to do? He can still find you. Mind you, he can't force cosmic magic to make you do anything you don't want to, but it's only a matter of time before he figures out something else disgusting, to force your hand."

"Yeah, I know," she sighed. "Maybe I need to let him find me, document it so I can prove harassment, and get a restraining order."

"You could transfer to the university here in Leeds," Tim suggested. "That might buy you some time to catch your breath. I mean, he could eventually find you, but it might take him a few months."

She smiled. "That's not a half bad idea. Who knows if he'd even still be interested, if I lived here?"

Well, someone had to clock him. Might as well be the lovely Marlene Dietrich, eh? ;-)

So, what do you think? Leave me a review! And as always, thanks for reading!