Author's Note: For some reason, no matter how many times I edit this, the spaces between each section of the story won't show up. My apologies to anyone who has trouble reading this chapter for that reason.

The TARDIS door flung open so hard it could've fallen off its hinges as Tristan scrambled up the grated ramp to the main console. The usual soft, calming whine of the machine only annoyed her in her state of panic.

Still, she knew where she was going.

In many cultures, races, and species all over the universe, it is a fact (that doesn't need to be scientifically proven) that when one is in a rush, he or she will trip in a room full of mess. Unfortunately, if said room belongs to the last Time Lord in said universe, he won't have a mum to ask him to clean it up. It is also a fact, that may or may not be scientifically proven, that sounds echo in big and empty spaces.

So, unfortunately, when Tristan screamed from falling face first from tripping in the TARDIS storage closet, there was no echo.

She groaned as she rubbed her nose rapidly, "this is ridiculous."

It wasn't long until she found what she was looking for. This was because it was familiar to her.

"Ah, and they're not even tangled," she smiled as she pulled one of the keys out of the bag.

Tripping again, she ran past the console and made an abrupt stop at the door. Taking a deep breath, she slowly put the string around her neck, leaving the key resting on her quickly beating heart.

"This is it," she breathed, and slowly opened the door.

Walking down the corridor, she looked around at those who couldn't see her. She laughed silently to herself at the thought that she and the Doctor would save all their lives and they wouldn't even know about it. But she was also met with the thought that she preferred it that way. She knew that the thought of being brainwashed and taken over by aliens wouldn't really settle well into many peoples' minds.

Arriving at the door, she stopped for a moment and looked down at the crack at the bottom of the door. The bright lights she left only moments ago were still shining bright in that room. She took a deep breath and gripped the doorknob, but a thought stopped her: if she opened the door, she would attract attention from either the Doctor or Clive and the perception filter would stop working.

She let go and headed in another direction.

"I'll give it to you, Doctor," Clive seethed; sweat liberally rolling down his face, "you put up a good fight."

"It never stops until I say it does," the Doctor replied smoothly, his eyes moving back and forth between the stream of light and the machine in the hands of the Hypnotic, "now, you either give me that machine, or I'm going to have to—"

But the Doctor didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, because the stream of light broke and the Brainwave Synthesis Machine flew out of Clive's hand.

"Taste it!" Tristan shouted, pulling the perception filter from around her neck, "I knew my flexible hamstrings were good for something."

Both Clive and the Doctor dove for the machine, but you can guess you got it first. A growl erupted from Clive as he bounced from the empty spot on the floor, to Tristan's neck. A tiny squeal escaped her lips as she shut her eyes out of instinct.

"Whoa, whoa," the Doctor said, holding his hands up as to calm Clive down, "don't do this, Clive."

"I am going to kill you," he hissed between his teeth to the girl, his furious eyes searing into her face.

"Tristan," the Doctor said slowly, "Tristan, listen to me, open your eyes."

So, her eyes flashed open, meeting Clive's. Before he could react, he cried out in pain, shut his eyes and she fell to the ground. She gasped for air on her hands and knees before she looked up at the Hypnotic sprawled on the ground with his hands over his eyes.

"Come on," the Doctor whispered, picking his companion off the floor, "I think that's our cue to leave."

As they stumbled out the door and down the corridor, they heard the faint cries of Clive Étrange.

"You may follow that Doctor, but that doesn't mean you won't crash and burn! I've seen it in your eyes, girl! You may be headed towards your highest, but nothing is going to stop the big Bad Wolf from coming for you!"

"I never thanked you," the Time Lord smiled at his lounging companion.

"For what?" she smiled back, moving her foot that was resting on the edge of the console.

"For that brilliant film-sequence entrance, that's what," he took a seat beside her, "worthy of a Time Lord, I'd say."

"Well, I should be thinking you for your brilliant film-sequence entrance. But my secret tunnel entrance was Time Lady worthy, I'll agree with you on that."

The Doctor let out a great laugh and pushed himself of the seat. After pacing a couple of steps, his eyebrows came together.

"Looks like the ol' girl needs some re-charging."

"To Cardiff, then?"

His head whipped in her direction, "I don't remember telling you about that."

He waited for an answer, but the only reaction he got from her was that daydreaming facial expression that spread across her face so many times, and her eyes were focused on the tips of her shoes.

"To Cardiff."