Here's the next bit of this. It's only half the episode, but I figured I might as well post it. Hope you enjoy! Also, a friend of mine started up a discord channel for fanfiction writers and readers to talk about things. Go check it out! I'm a mod in it as well. The link is on my profile :)

Not even a day had passed before something had changed. I had been recovering still, allowing the Doctor and Donna a bit of time to relax on the Tardis while I did much the same, until now.

I sat upright on my bed, a hand fisted around my shirt as I choked for breath for a moment. My head ached, but my chest was tight, as though something heavy was sitting inside it. Not only that, but I hadn't felt chest pains since the incident with the witch and the Master. Something was wrong.

I pushed off the bed, blinking hard as I stumbled from a dizzy spell, hitting the wall solidly with my shoulder. I risked a second to try and calm my racing heart, clear my vision, but it wasn't working, so I pressed onward, out of my bedroom.

"I-I need the Doctor," I choked out to the Tardis, which whined uneasily along with me as I used the wall to walk down the hall.

I didn't even have to make it to the console room before the Doctor came speeding around the corner.

"What? What is it? Your side? Kris, what's wrong?"

"C-Chest," I choked out and he nodded, easily scooping me off my feet and rushing for the medbay.

"How long ago did it start?"

"F-Few minutes," I breathed, cringing as a particularly powerful spasm ran through me.

"What caused it? What were you doing?"

I took a few staggered breaths. "N-Nothing. Staring out t-the window."

My room might have been plain and not have much—a possible side effect to having been Charlotte, who had an equally plain apartment—but the Tardis had given me a window to show off the views of planets and space. Not that it mattered at the moment when my heart was trying to beat out of my chest.

His grip tightened as we reached the medbay and he laid me down on the familiar white bed, bringing a scanner over as I forced my hand away from my chest so he could scan me properly and find out what was wrong.

"Your injury is fine. Better than fine, even after a week," he muttered, glasses on and eyes running over the results on a monitor quickly. "Immune system's going haywire. What for? Your heart is fine. Blood pressure is high, oxygen intake is low. It's like asthma combined with an allergy attack. What the devil is—" He stopped then, dragging out a keyboard and typing feverously.

"W-What…" I could barely ask what he was doing before he scrambled to the scanner, shoving it away and pulling out his sonic.

I expected him to wave it over me, but he instead brought it right over my chest. He hovered briefly, his caramel brown eyes looking to mine and for a second, I was scared. He pulled away, rushing back to the scanner as I rolled onto my side, calling out to him.

"D-Doctor. What… W-What's happening?"

"Nothing. Nothing's happening,"

I growled, frustrated, and in pain. "I s-swear, I will strangle you."

He winced at the threat, finally looking at me from the corner of his eye. "You won't like it."

"I already don't like it!" I snapped, groaning in pain at another flare-up.

"R-Right. Well, you remember how I said you were changing? The heart pains started up with the witch back then, remember that?"

"The point!" I grit out, rolling onto my back with grit teeth, eyes clenched shut against the agony ripping through my chest.

"The point! Right! I-I think the witch sort of jumpstarted your whole changing process," he explained, hands waving about as he turned his chair to face me and I glared.

He was taking too long, and I really didn't enjoy pain despite how much I'd dealt with it the last few years.

"Then, with the whole deal with the Master, your body had to focus on recovery. So, I think the process was shoved to the side in order for your body to repair itself. It's why you healed slowly instead of like now, where everything is going super speed. The thing is, there was this thing, this, this dark spot on one of the scans I took of you after the Master. I ignored it mostly. Just a mass, I thought. No big deal. I'll keep an eye on it if anything changed. But you haven't had heart problems since back then. I hadn't even thought of why they just stopped, but they did. I'd forgotten about the mass."

"A-Am I dying?" I asked, seeing that he wasn't going to really get to the point unless I nudged him in the right direction.

"Dying? What? No!" He beamed a grin, looking rather pleased with himself. "Oh, no. Much better than dying. Great even!"

My hand snapped out faster than I thought it would, grabbing his tie and jerking him towards my bed as I growled.

"I will choke you into your next regeneration."

His mouth dropped open and I pulled a little tighter, making him hastily explain. "I-It's a new organ!"

My brows furrowed as my grip loosened. "W-What?"

The Doctor cleared his throat, tugging at his tie as he sat a little further back should I try to strangle him again. "W-Well, you are changing. I think, after the witch's attack on your heart, your body decided that it was too damaged to handle dealing with whatever new changes were planned. So… it started growing a new one."

"M-My heart is dying?"

"No, no. Your other heart is fine. Well, mostly fine. Like I said, a bit weak after the witch attack, but fine enough for a human." He winced the second he said that, waiting for a reaction from me.

I wasn't human. I had started to accept that a bit. I was changing. This body wasn't mine. It had never really been mine from the start. It was Charlotte's. I was drawn from my thoughts by a hand touching mine.

"Kris?" The Doctor murmured, looking worried. "I didn't mean—"

"No. No, it's… it's fine," I replied, slowly sitting up now that I realized my chest pains had dulled to a small ache. "I… I haven't been human for a while… have I?"

He was quiet and I pulled my hand from his, reaching up and pressing my palm to my chest, closing my eyes. I winced when I felt the double staccato of two hearts beating now instead of one. It reminded me of the four beats in the back of my mind. The Master taunting me.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, and I shook my head feeling tired and mildly disappointed.

"It's not your fault. It's fine."

"It's not fine," he argued, tapping a finger on the back of my hand. "I don't need to touch your mind to know that."

I cracked a small bitter smile. "Yeah, well… You're going to have to show me how to stop projecting. I can't be giving away everything, you know."

He smiled a little back, nodding to the monitor. "Mind if I do another scan? Make sure your hearts have settled?"

I laid back down, watching the scanner float back over me with a hum as he looked back at the results.

"Seems all right. Can I trust you to let me know if anything changes?" He questioned; voice teasing despite the worry hidden behind his eyes.

"Sure," I agreed, lifting a hand and staring at it wondering if anything else would change. "Does this mean I'm becoming like you?"

He shrugged, taking his glasses off and tucking them back into his coat as he folded his legs and crossed his arms over his chest. "Dunno. Bit of a coincidence. The telepathy, the two hearts. You're healing up rather quick too, but I'd really rather we didn't test if you could regenerate."

I lowered my hand, looking up at the ceiling. I've already died once. Would it really even be that surprising?

"I wouldn't want that for you," he said then, drawing my gaze to him as I sat up again.

"'Sometimes I think the Time Lord lives too long,'" I quoted, earning a surprised look from him as I smiled bitterly. "Don't remember if you've already said that or if you're going to, but… I get it. Live long enough, and you start to forget who you were, to begin with. What made things worthwhile, what innocence looked like."

His eyes grew sad as he watched me, and I couldn't look at him any longer. I felt old. Far older than the mere thirty or so years I was. I can't even remember how old I am… Not that birthdays were ever a big thing for me, but… it feels a little sad.

"Bit late for that, don't you think?" I murmured.

"I'm sorry," he repeated again, making me sigh and rub my forehead.

"Don't you ever stop apologizing?"

He managed a small smile before reaching forward and lightly tugging my hand away, brushing them across my temple. I winced a little, expecting pain when his mind brushed up against mine, but there was none. Just warmth wrapping around me, holding me close as he went to check the damage from earlier. He let out a soft sigh, his other hand coming up and cupping my face as he delved deeper.

"Rather stubborn, isn't it?" he whispered, earning a flinch as his mentality brushed across damage, though I appreciated him not apologizing this time.

My mind felt a little raw, tender, even.

"You were holding back too much. Trying too hard."

"I didn't want you to know."

"Yeah… Yeah, I know."

My tense shoulders relaxed as he rolled over it like a soothing balm on a scraped knee.

"Can I… show you something?" I murmured.

"If you want."

I tried to imagine it, imagine me. The me before Charlotte, before the Doctor. And I stepped forward, earning a raised brow from the man as he stood in my mind looking as he always did, though I would catch a flicker of another face, another coat, a scarf, different hair or shoes. Like all his other selves were still there, overlapping one another and only holding his Tenth self's form because he willed it.

"Who's this?"

"Me," I replied, tucking my hands into my jean pockets and rubbing a red Converse on the back of my calf awkwardly.

"Doesn't look anything like you."

I shrugged, reaching a hand up to touch short trimmed black hair, a part of me wishing I'd worn something other than the same black hoodie I'd always worn back then. I felt a bit grungy like this now.

"It's… who I was before. This… This is Kris Lewis."

He tipped his head curiously, stepping forward and making me wince, taking a half step back as his hand reached out and promptly messed up my hair.

"H-Hey!"

He just smiled, a big, beaming grin. "Yeah, I see it now."

I scowled, swinging a foot out to kick his shin, but he dodged, laughing like a child as I ran after him. Our eyes opened then, and he was still grinning away, my head still in his hands and for once, I couldn't help but chuckle myself. The first chuckle of actual joy I'd had in a long time.

Once I was fully healed—the new heart took some getting used to and the Doctor had to ensure that it was functioning properly with the rest of my body—it had come time for me to pick the next stop. It wasn't much of a choice if I was being honest. I knew what episode came next and that trying to postpone it would only end up with the Tardis sending us there anyway. The only plus side was… I honestly adored Agatha Christie.

And yeah. I'm ignoring the situation with the Doctor and that kiss for now. I didn't want to think about the consequences of it. I'd tried while recovering and all it seemed to do was make my head spin. Not to mention the fact that he's pretending it never happened too. It just felt… easier to not worry about it, about all the problems it could and would bring up. For the both of us. Even if the very thought of it made my hearts flutter. No, stop it. We've gone over this. You can't.

We stepped out of the Tardis, more of a confirmation of the time and place the Doctor had sent us to since his driving had never exactly improved with practice. A bumblebee buzzed nearby, and I winced, shuffling away from it and its friends as they searched the nearby fruit trees for food.

"Oh, smell that air," the Doctor grinned, pleased with himself as we looked to the large manor just across the yard. "Grass and lemonade. And a little bit of mint. A hint of mint," he teased, toying with the words on his tongue. "Must be the nineteen twenties."

Donna shot him a disbelieving look. "You can tell what year it is just by smelling?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Or maybe that big vintage car coming up the drive gave it away," she corrected him, not falling for it as the car honked and the driver got out to greet the butler.

"She got you there," I muttered, giving the Doctor the smallest hint of a smirk and earning one in return.

Things had finally relaxed between us, for the most part. We both knew that there would be things that would set us off—messing with time being a big one—but for now, we'd called a truce. One that encouraged small jokes and teasing to try and get the other to crack a smile (in my case) or complain (in the Doctor's). It was almost nice if I didn't know what troubles lay ahead in the coming months.

The Vashta Nerada.

River Song.

Midnight.

Davros.

The Daleks.

Donna being left behind.

The Waters of Mars.

Time Lord Victorious.

The Master.

The end of the Doctor's song.

So many things that plagued me through the night of my recovery. The worries of how I would deal with the silent attacker on that Midnight tram. How betrayed the Doctor would feel should I allow Donna and the Metacrisis Doctor to occur. What he'll think when he realizes he has to wipe everything about us from Donna's mind. And whether I'll be more afraid of him in the coming months, or the Master.

But those were worries for a later time. With the Doctor's help, I'd slowly been working on my alien abilities—a weird thing to think about still, but one I was handling better than the future knowledge I held. I could successfully withhold sending out emotions without the added strain from before, though he would be able to sense when I was. I wasn't perfect, after all. I'd only had a week to learn. With these lessons though, came meditation and exercise.

I know. Exercise? Like I don't get enough with the Doctor's running about. But the Doctor found it helped me unwind. He'd shown me a few things I could try—meditation having proven difficult for me to do when I was jittery and wide awake. And with that came the extra need for food, for sleep, leaving me to finally being able to return to a semi-normal schedule that would eventually lead to a healthier body. As the Doctor wanted.

"Kris? You not going in to change?"

I drew myself out of my thoughts, nodding and hastily retreating into the Tardis to do so—a tad embarrassed that I'd zoned out. Once in, it was easy enough to find Donna in the wardrobe, throwing out dresses like mad to try finding the right one.

"Kris, what do you think?" She asked, holding up two, though it was the brown one I recognized and pointed it out, making her smile. "Perfect. What about you? Need any help?"

I grimaced, shaking my head and pointing to the other side of the room. "I'm not really a dress person. I'll grab something from the men's section."

"Suit yourself," she shrugged, moving away to change and reminding me again why I adored her.

It's nice to have someone not get upset that I'm doing something different. I pulled out a white dress shirt and grey slacks, wrinkling my nose before shoving back the slacks and grabbing more modern jeans. No one notices anyway. From there it was easier to pick out a pair of familiar red suspenders, grey vest, and a dark coat. I paused though, holding up two very different objects and wondering if maybe I should get Donna's opinion.

"Donna?"

"Yeah?"

I returned to her side, holding up the two pieces of fabric. "Which one?"

Her eyes narrowed, waving for me to hold one up to my neck and then the other before she grinned. "Bow tie."

I sighed, tossing away the normal tie. "Thought so."

"Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud," she teased, nudging me with her elbow as I worked the bow tie into place. "I'm sure the Doctor would love it either way."

I flushed to the tips of my ears, giving her a wide-eyed look. "W-What?"

She rolled her eyes with a smile. "Oh, don't give me that. You two have been eyeing each other for ages, I can tell."

"We really haven't," I pressed as she hummed in disbelief and started to head for the door.

"Martha said otherwise."

Martha? "No, no, no. She was into him! Not me! I-I can't—"

"Course you can!" She argued, grabbing a fedora from off the coat rack near the door—which had not been there a moment ago—and shoving it on my head. "Even you're allowed to be happy, Kris."

I shrank a little under my hat, glad it shadowed the expression that had flickered across my face.

"And if he doesn't like your outfit, I'll shove my heels down his throat, yeah?" She declared, hands on her hips.

There was a knock on the Tardis doors as the Doctor called out. "We'll be late for cocktails!"

"I'm hardly dressed up," I grumbled, still embarrassed by what she'd proclaimed. Great. Donna ships us. I'll have to look out for her plotting things now. Just another thing added to my list of trouble.

"Yeah, but he likes you anyway, don't he?" She teased with a smile, stepping out and grinning at the Doctor. "What do you think? Flapper or slapper?"

"Flapper," the Doctor agreed, beaming away. "You look lovely."

I slipped out behind her, adjusting the fedora to stop the rim from shadowing my face.

"And you're very dashing as well, Kris," he informed me, making me look anywhere but Donna's, "I told you so" expression as I fought to cool down my flaming ears. "Shall we?"

He offered his arm to Donna, but still gave me a cheeky grin as we made our way into the party and a young man stepped forward to greet us.

"Drinks, sirs? Ma'am?"

"Sidecar, please," Donna ordered, before huffing. "And she's a woman too, you know."

The man looked pleasantly surprised but bowed in apology to me. "So sorry, ma'am."

"It's fine," I muttered, knowing that this was what avoiding dresses got me.

Though, I'm not sure how Donna and the others do it, running in heels and tight dresses. I'd be the first to trip and break an ankle or tear it right up the seam and give someone a rather shocking view of—

"Lime and soda for me, thanks," the Doctor said, nudging me. "Anything for you, Kris?"

The thought of alcohol made my throat feel dry and I grimaced.

"Lemonade?"

The man—Davenport—nodded and shuffled off, earning a raised brow from Donna.

"A lemonade? I'd expect you to be more the gin and tonic type."

"Char—" I winced, correcting myself. "I had an alcohol problem before."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know."

I waved her off looking around and suddenly realizing that this trip—though tame compared to those coming up—wasn't ever going to be a good one for me. So many people die, and I can't do anything, can I? I didn't notice the Doctor's small frown as he watched me overlook the guests.

"May I announce Lady Clemency Eddison," the butler said as an older woman in blue wandered into the yard; the head of the house.

"Lady Eddison!" The Doctor greeted cheerfully, arms out and taking her hand as she wandered over, plastering a smile on her face for a trio she very much didn't know.

"Forgive me, but who exactly might you be, and what are you doing here?" She asked.

Gate-crashers, I mused silently as the Doctor introduced us.

"I'm the Doctor and this is Kris Lewis and Miss Donna Noble, of the Chiswick Nobles."

I glanced away towards where Davenport was, wishing that I suddenly did ask for something with alcohol. It was going to be a long day and some liquid courage would've been nice to help me get through it all—or block it all out. Not surprisingly, the alcohol being so prominent in this time only added to my troubles. You just had to muck it up, didn't you, Charlotte? I swallowed in the hopes of clearing up the dryness in my throat, turning back towards the front as the butler announced another head of the house.

"May I announce Colonel Hugh Curbishley, the Honorable Roger Curbishley."

"My husband and son," Lady Eddison smiled, introducing us as Roger rolled his father over and the man chuckled.

"Forgive me for not rising. Never been the same ever since that flu epidemic back in eighteen."

Which is a lie because you feel your wife is unfaithful, my mind supplied darkly, making me wince ever so slightly. Which isn't wrong because she had a son with another man and he's going to kill three other people today. God, why alcohol, Charlotte! I want a drink! Davenport cleared his throat, revealing that he was beside me with my drink and quite possibly had been for a time. I cracked a grimace of a smile, muttering an apology and sipping the lemonade.

It didn't parch the thirst for alcohol at all.

"My word. You are a super lady," Roger greeted Donna, who preened at the praise.

"Oh, I like the cut of your jib. Chin, chin."

Does that even really mean anything? Honestly? I drank more of my lemonade as the Doctor smiled and greeted him as well.

"Hello. I'm the Doctor."

"How do you do?"

"Very well, and this is Miss Kris Lewis," he introduced me, tacking on the "miss" since Donna had been keen on insisting I was a woman.

I expected a little less interest from Roger, remembering he and Davenport had a thing, but he beamed at the sight of me and offered a hand politely.

"Lovely to meet you, ma'am. Bit different, but I don't mind."

I nearly choked on my drink when he let my hand go, turning to Davenport who now shot me a small jealous look as he served Roger his drink with a hint of bite.

"Your usual, sir."

Roger, smiling like the cat that caught the canary took the drink off his tray. "Thank you, Davenport. Just how I like it. With a bit of fire."

I actually did choke on my drink this time, earning hearty pats on the back from the Doctor who looked stuck between being cross and laughing his bloody mind off. Donna, smirking away at me and earning a glare in return, distracted the Doctor by asking about the passing on of names and I was soon able to breathe again about the time that the Unicorn was brought in—I mean, Miss Redmond. Following her came the Wasp himself, Reverend Golightly, who approached Lady Eddison, spelling a tale about his forgiveness towards some boys who broke into the church.

"Some of these young boys deserve a descent thrashing," Roger declared as Davenport walked up to him to refill his drink, glaring at me.

"Couldn't agree more, sir."

Donna made a face as the two shared a look, myself frowning in mild annoyance at their toying with me. "Typical. All the decent men are on the other bus."

"Or Time Lords," the Doctor said, only adding to my discomfort when Donna leaned back to smirk at me with a pointed look.

Someone mentioned a special guest then as a woman walked ever closer and Lady Eddison began a round of applause. Finally. Someone interesting.

"No, no. please don't," Agatha Christie said a bit sheepishly. "Thank you, Lady Eddison. Honestly, there's no need." She turned to us then, holding out her hand. "Agatha Christie."

"What about her?" Donna questioned as I cleared my throat, removing my hat and taking the offered hand with a small, polite smile.

"Lovely to meet you."

"No," Donna breathed, understanding what I meant. "You're kidding."

The Doctor though was beaming away. "Agatha Christie. I was just talking about you the other day. I said I bet she's brilliant!" He took over shaking her hand. "I'm the Doctor. This is Donna and Kris. Oh, I love your stuff. What a mind. You fool me every time. Well, almost every time. Well, once or twice. Well—" He winced, shooting me a look as I innocently replaced my hat, having stomped on his shoe.

Agatha gave me the subtlest of glances, undoubtedly having caught the action I'd performed. "You make a rather unusual couple."

"Oh, no, no, no, no. We're not married," the Doctor waved off the same time Donna wrinkled her nose.

"We're not a couple."

"Well, obviously not." Agatha looked at me and I flushed, hoping it was hidden under my hat.

"Oh, no. No, we're not either," I muttered.

She cracked a knowing smirk, looking to the Doctor who—I noticed—hadn't argued against that. "I'd stay that way if I were you. The thrill is in the chase, never in the capture."

"Mrs. Christie," Lady Eddison interrupted, leading her away. "I'm so glad you could come. I'm one of your greatest followers. I've read all six of your books. Uh… Is, uh, Mister Christie not joining us?"

"Is he needed?" She questioned, doing her best to keep up appearances though I felt for the woman who was only just dealing with leaving said man. "Can't a woman make her own way in the world?"

"Don't give my wife ideas," Mr. Curbishley chortled, and Roger drew the group into a discussion about her Belgian detective.

The Doctor though didn't miss a thing and borrowed the older man's newspaper, waving us over as Lady Eddison sent her maid to fetch the missing Professor Peach. The dead Professor Peach, my mind reminded me, drawing my gaze to the table of drinks until the Doctor nudged me.

"The date on this newspaper."

"What about it?" Donna asked, seeing his serious expression.

"It's the day Agatha Christie disappeared. She'd just discovered her husband was having an affair," he explained, as though that were the sole reason she may have vanished.

"You'd never think to look at her, smiling away."

"She's doing her best," I muttered, earning a sympathetic nod from the Doctor.

"Well, she's British and moneyed. That's what they do. They carry on. Except for this one time. No one knows exactly what happened. She just vanished. Her car will be found tomorrow morning by the side of a lake. Ten days later, Agatha Christie turns up in a hotel in Harrogate. Said she'd lost her memory. She never spoke about the disappearance till the day she died, but whatever it was…"

"It's about to happen," Donna realized.

"Right here, right now."

And there's nothing I can do, is there?

"Professor! The library! Murder! Murder!"

The Doctor and Donna were first on the scene with Kris not far behind as they rushed into the library to find a man lying on the ground dead.

"Oh, my goodness," the butler breathed, stunned as Agatha joined the Doctor kneeling beside the body.

"Bashed on the head. Blunt instrument," the Doctor rattled off, glasses on and checking the corpse for more evidence. "Watch broke as he fell. Time of death was quarter past four."

"A bit of pipe," Donna pointed out as he rushed to the desk, spotting Kris standing uneasily nearby. "Call me Hercules Poirot, but I reckon that's blunt enough."

He could feel Kris's uneasiness even as she tried to hide it from him. He'd been sensing it all day, really, making him wonder if this was going to be another one of those days full of trouble and death. I need to distract her. She's only just gotten better and with her new heart, too much shock wouldn't be good for her.

"Kris? Could you gather everyone in the sitting room? We don't need them bursting in here."

Kris didn't move, her eyes still locked on the body and the Doctor abandoned the papers he'd been searching through to move toward her, lightly touching her hand and sending a bit of concern over their connection.

"Kris?"

She flinched away, lightly removing her hand from his but looking away from the body as he shifted between her and it. "Sorry… What did you say?"

He shook his head, brushing off the idea now that he thought about it. She didn't do well with living people either.

"Nothing. Just making sure you're all right."

"I'm fine," she muttered, her gaze shifting uneasily to the side—where the body would be if the Doctor wasn't hiding it. "I'll be fine."

"If you're certain." He lightly brushed against her hand again and felt the small bit of confidence he needed to know backed up her words.

"Hold on," Donna spoke up then, not realizing the moment they were having as the Doctor turned. "The Body in The Library? I mean, Professor Peach, in the library, with the lead piping?"

The others started to burst in the room as well and the Doctor caught sight of Kris's grimace before Agatha mentioned police and he stepped up to take charge, pulling out his psychic paper.

"Chief Inspector Smith from Scotland Yard, known as the Doctor. Miss Noble is the plucky young girl who helps me out, and Kris, my consulting assistant. Mrs. Christie was right. Go into the sitting room. I will question each of you in turn."

Agatha was quick to usher the others out as Donna hissed in the Doctor's ear.

"The plucky young girl who helps me out?"

"No policewomen in 1926 and I could get away with Kris since she could easily pass for a man. No offense, Kris."

Kris didn't appear bothered as she stood near the window, peering outside at something or another, but Donna wasn't thrilled.

"I'll pluck you in a minute. Why don't we phone the real police?"

"Well, the last thing we want is PC Plod sticking his nose in, especially now I've found this." He'd been searching the wooden floorboards for clues and used a pen to lift a sticky substance off the ground. "Morphic residue."

"Morphic? Doesn't sound very 1926."

"That's because it's not," Kris muttered, glancing over at them. "It's left when species change their DNA to alter their shape. Genetically re-encode."

"The murderer's an alien?" She gaped as the Doctor frowned.

"Which means one of that lot is an alien in human form."

"Yeah but think about it. There's a murder, a mystery, and Agatha Christie."

The Doctor looked unsurprised. "So? Happens to me all the time."

"He met Charles Dickens Christmas day with aliens that resembled ghosts," Kris informed her, making her mouth drop open in shock.

"No. You're joking! What else is real? Enid Blyton having tea with Noddy?" her eyes lit up as she whipped back to the Doctor. "Could we—Noddy's not real, is he? Tell me there's no Noddy."

"There's no Noddy," the Doctor sighed, giving Kris a dramatic eye roll, that she cracked the slightest hint of a smile at.

There we go. Ease up a little, Kris. He headed out, grabbing her hand as Donna followed, still talking in disbelief at the coincidence.

"Next thing you know, you'll be telling me it's like Murder on The Orient Express, and they all did it."

"Murder on the Orient Express?" Agatha questioned, slipping out from around the corner and making Kris flinch in surprise.

"Ooh, yeah. One of your best," Donna mused as the Doctor said, clicking his teeth.

"But not yet."

"Marvelous idea though," Agatha mused, making Donna smile.

"Yeah. Tell you what. Copyright Donna Noble, okay?"

"Anyway," the Doctor cut in. "Agatha and I will question the suspects. Donna, you and Kris search the bedrooms. Look for clues."

He sent a pointed look at Kris, who nodded, knowing what kind of clues he meant, and she gestured for Donna to follow her back up the stairs after the Doctor handed the woman an overly large magnifying glass.

"Right then. Solving a murder mystery with Agatha Christie. Brilliant." He beamed, earning a small frown from the woman beside him as Kris called down to him from the stairs.

"Doctor, murder."

He blinked, looking back up to her, and realized his error. "Ah, yes. Right.

"How like a man to have fun while there's disaster all around him," Agatha muttered, making him a bit sheepish.

"Sorry."

"I'll work with you, gladly, but for the sake of justice, not your own amusement."

He sighed as she hurried off, giving the stairs another glance and wondering if he maybe should have had Kris come with him instead. No. She'll be fine. She needs a distraction and Donna can do that for her. She probably wouldn't enjoy interviewing people anyway.