A marvellous sight greeted their eyes as Amy and the Doctor walked into the hotel lobby, through a door that mysteriously matched the beige wall surrounding it. The ceiling rose high above the crowds wandering about below. Talk from the guests filled the air with a life that was inhaled by everyone, seemingly raising the volume of the babble but never getting any higher, like a machine that was charging but not gaining power. Freshly historic chairs, tables, desks and other furniture were uniquely placed around the room, like it was organised to appear scattered.
Beams of light shone down from the eclectic arrangement of chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. To Amy they looked brand new, but to the Doctor they seemed ancient. They cautiously meandered through the commotion with carefully placed steps, so as not to bump into anyone and attract attention. Not that attention would be easy to acquire; the sheer scale of the lobby kept everyone oblivious to a couple of insignificant strangers.
Amy knocked shoulders, or at least thought she did, with a passer-by. When the stranger didn't even flinch, Amy shook it off as a trick of the light. Scraps of conversation could be made out as they navigated through the maze of occupants.
''I'm only staying for the weekend,'' muttered a plucky old woman, ''just long enough-''
''Quite a view from up top, though I could never sleep so high from the ground,'' a middle-aged man spoke to his friend, over the top of the aged lady while he passed by.
''Waiter! Excuse me, waiter!'' a stocky gentlemen roared through the crowd. On the rear wall, facing the main, barred entrance of the hotel, four burnished grey elevators were lined up, each with a bright red light around the frame. The Doctor seemed to be the only one who noticed they weren't quite as shiny as everyone else thought.
''There's something… not quite right about this place,'' said Amy, pondering what could possibly be wrong.
''Aside from the fact that it shouldn't be here, yes there is,'' the Doctor responded.
''It's like there are two different places, competing for the same space,'' theorised Amy.
''Curious,'' said the Doctor, ''though I do have to admit, I can see the same place from when I was last here.''
Amy shot him an inquisitive look. ''You've stayed here before?'' she asked him.
''Just the once,'' he started, ''I followed a rogue poltergeist here. He spiked the water supply. Made half the guests think they were trees. Some didn't move for days apart from a little swaying.''
Amy chuckled.
''That wasn't even the worst of it,'' continued the Doctor gleefully.
''Oh yeah?'' asked Amy.
''He stole my complimentary pillow mint.''
He finished with a look of nostalgic sadness. Their laughter carried them all the way to the service desk, though upon their arrival it dissipated quickly.
''Good morning, sir. Madam. How can I-?'' Alison began to greet them but the Doctor interjected with a sudden gravity.
''Why is the front door deadlocked?'' he asked. ''No doors are deadlocked unless there's something to hide.''
''It's a security measure,'' Alison replied, ''nobody gets in or out during Class Two storms.''
The Doctor deliberated on this for a moment.
''Well, you should keep a better check on your back doors,'' he eventually said.
''There are no back doors,'' said Alison, confusion spreading across her face, ''just the main entrance and the emergency docking stations on the upper floors. Is everything okay?''
The Doctor went to respond but before he could he noticed that Alison seemed to be paying closer attention to something behind them. He turned his head to see a young man; tall, scrawny and with a pair of eyes that were gazing at the clerk a little too intently. Alison snapped out of her trance and looked back at the Doctor and Amy as if she was seeing them for the first time.
''Sorry, continue,'' she said. The Doctor went to answer but before he could, Amy rushed in front of him and directed Alison's attention to her instead.
''Good morning. Um,'' she said with an awkward laugh and glance at the Doctor, ''we lost our room key. Uh, sorry about that. Anyway, could we perhaps-''
''Of course, ma'am! What name was the booking under?''
The Doctor stepped back in front of Amy, who stood back with a huff. He yanked the psychic paper from inside his tweed jacket and flashed it in front of Alison's eyes, which lit up like a firework. She blushed.
''I did hear the King's son was visiting from France,'' she spurted, trying to hide her adoration, ''I didn't hear he was so handsome.''
Amy cleared her throat. The Doctor's smirk cleared and he clumsily composed himself. Alison looked embarrassed but quickly collected herself too.
''I just need to scan you in,'' she said shyly. ''One moment.''
She ducked under the counter and began delving through the drawers.
''The Prince of France? She thinks you're the Prince of France?'' Amy whispered disbelievingly.
''I look like royalty don't I?'' asked the Doctor hopefully, though his optimism was pushed away by a change of thought. ''Or do I just look French?''
''When did France get their royal groove back on anyway?'' said Amy. ''I wouldn't have seen that one coming.''
''Neither did they,'' said the Doctor. ''France was invaded, again, in World War Five. Ironically though, its invaders surrendered to the culture and became French themselves.''
Alison returned with a small contraption in her hand. It looked just like a barcode scanner, only larger and with more buttons. The Doctor and Amy stood still while Alison pointed the scanner at them and observed as a thin layer of laser-esque light washed over their faces, not missing a spot. She looked at the back of the scanner and was hit with confusion but swiftly regained normalcy. During this time, the bellboy from across the lobby had made his way over to them, and was stood just behind Amy, who jerked in shock when she realised he was there.
''This is Cole,'' said Alison, placing the scanner down on the desk. Cole nodded in greeting. ''He'll escort you back to your room and a new key will be there when you arrive. Have a nice day.''
''Merci!'' cried the Doctor. Alison resumed her duties. Cole smiled and gestured for them to follow him but the Doctor didn't take his lead.
''You, uh, go on with your hotel-y, escort-y, service-y offer-y things, we know our way back to the room,'' he stammered. Cole attempted to hide his dissatisfaction. He coolly nodded to the Doctor, but remained positioned in front of Amy, blocking her way across the lobby. Awkward silence filled the gap between the three of them, and the Doctor looked to Amy for assistance. Social practices of humans weren't his best skill. Amy shot him an exasperated look and proceeded to draw a five pound note from her pocket and hand it to Cole, who nodded once more and stepped away.
''Right!'' exclaimed the Doctor. ''Of course. Well, onwards Amy.''
He walked away gawkily, Amy striding to catch up. Cole furtively rushed from the scene. Amy noticed the Doctor was aiming for the stairs.
''Where are you going? The elevators are over there,'' she cried.
''Something isn't right with those lifts,'' said the Doctor in a hushed tone, pausing in his tracks to lean up close to his companion. ''See those red lines of light around them all? The sonic detected something behind them. I need a closer look.''
''When did you use your sonic?'' asked Amy, puzzled by the Doctor's sneakiness.
''When did you notice the dashing man drinking cocktails in the armchair by the door?'' replied the Doctor, enjoying the embarrassment he had caused Amy. He hurried away towards the stairs, Amelia once again rushing to catch up.
''Anyway,'' she said. ''Now what are we going to do? We can't just hide in the Prince of France's hotel room!''
''Oh relax, Pond,'' said the Doctor. ''We'll just find an empty one. I'm sure there'll be one close by.''