Relict

by LizzeXX

12/OC -Time Lady- The Doctor and his Bonded, the Professor, have escaped Tenzalore with their lives, new regeneration cycles, and their unborn child surviving their 'Fall.' But with the Promised Land being sought and another woman vying for the Doctor's attention in the Nethersphere, what will become of the Time Lords? What of their child? Or…children? Ninth in the Academic Series.

5. Time Heist

Time Heist

"Please," Clara called to the Professor from the bathroom, "Don't eat all the cheese, I just got back from the grocers yesterday and I'd like a cheese sandwich for lunch tomorrow."

The Professor laughed as she ate another slice from Clara's refrigerator, she was sitting in the kitchen while the Doctor busied himself watching the wash go round in the machine, the TARDIS parked in the sitting room for once, Clara had been adamant that they move it out of her bedroom and to the sitting room as she was getting ready for something and needed the room, "I promise I won't eat you out of house and home Clara," she called back, a hand resting on her stomach, she was…noticeably pregnant now, even with her jacket on the tip of her stomach peeked out over the edge of it unless she tugged it or held her jacket out more, which was awkward to do, "I'm trying to leave some room for an actual meal," she added, "Where are we off to next Doctor?"

"The Satanic Nebula," the Doctor called from the next room before making his way into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe to watch her, chuckling to himself as he observed her. She wasn't just eating cheese, no, she was taking the slices of it and breaking them into squares and making what seemed to be a raisin sandwich of the pieces, pressing a raisin between two cheese slices and popping the bite-sized morsels into her mouth, "Or the Lagoon of Lost Stars," he looked at the Professor who shook her head at that, not in the mood for fish at the moment, the Lagoon had rather lovely seafood but it seemed she'd eaten so many sardines and custard that she was rather sick of them. He moved over to the table and snagged one of the little sandwiches, "Or we could go to Brighton," he shrugged, popping it in his mouth and chewing…only to spit it out a moment later into his hand, "I've…" he coughed a bit, throwing the piece out, "I've got a whole day worked out…"

The Professor laughed at that, "Not a fan of the cheesin?" she asked him.

"No," he grimaced, "No, I'll…leave it to you," he waved her on, "What do you think?" he asked her, "Where to next?"

"Hmmm…" she hummed, only for it to morph into a bit of a yawn, "Brighton could be lovely."

He smiled a little at that, seeing her smacking her lips slightly after she finished yawning, she was at that point in a pregnancy where her nights were starting to get harder. It was a bit of a catch-22 for her and her sleeping habits. Once she was asleep she was completely out, dead to the world, but if she couldn't fall asleep then she didn't sleep at all, couldn't get comfortable. It had only happened the last two times she tried to sleep, it had taken her longer to fall asleep, but he could tell that she was a bit tired.

He actually…wanted a nice and calm trip this time, just to give her relaxation and some good food. She needed more iron, he knew that much as a doctor.

"What do you say, Clara?" she called, "Brighton?"

"Sorry," Clara popped into the doorway, "But as you can see," she gestured at herself, at her bit of a casual suit she was sporting, a white button-up shirt and a loose black tie on, some heels to match, "I've got plans."

"Have you?" the Doctor frowned, not sure why she'd think they would know that based on her attire.

"Look at me," Clara gave him a look.

"Yeah…ok?"

"No, no, no. No. Look at me."

"Yep," he nodded, still seeming confused, "Looking…"

Clara blinked at that, seeing that he genuinely seemed to not notice a thing, "Seriously?"

"Why is your face all colored in? Are you taller?"

"Heels," she gestured at her feet.

"What, do you have to reach a high shelf?"

"Husband," the Professor reached out and took his hand, tugging her over to him, his attention going right to her the moment she spoke, "Imagine if I decided to actually dress smartly and do my hair all pretty…what would that mean?"

"It would mean you're sitting at a table eating Cheesins," he stated.

The Professor blinked at it that time, before smiling when she realized it was because, while she'd been trying to get him to realize that Clara was going on a date, he was taking it as her trying to look pretty for it…and telling her that she looked pretty right now, just sitting there eating raisin-cheese sandwiches, "She's going on a date," she told him.

He nodded at that, before frowning, "You don't have to get dressed up to go on a date with me," he told the Professor, moving to kneel before her, "I always think you're beautiful."

"Even when I'm fat."

"Even when you're pregnant," he corrected.

It was hard on her, he knew, for her to be like that, growing so fast, faster than normal he might have said if he'd actually known what was normal. Mayra had kicked him out so much and made herself so scarce that he was sure that every time he saw her she was just always bigger than before. He honestly had no idea if the rate the Professor was growing at was normal, but she was healthy and that was all that mattered. But he knew it was difficult for her to be big. All her lives, all of them, she'd never been even very curvy, always like a stick she was, to now have this weight on her that was starting to affect her movements and reactions was hard on her.

She was so used to being in control of herself, even more so WANTING control of herself after the war and what the High Council did to her, that as excited as he knew she was for the baby, he knew she wasn't a fan of how her body was changing without her consent. It was growing faster than she could keep up with and changing and throwing her off and she wasn't used to that. She didn't like not being the one changing her body when it was an entirely separate entity inside her causing all of it. She loved their child, he knew that, she just didn't love what it was doing to her body and its hormones and everything else. So he tried to reassure her whenever he could that, despite the changes she was STILL herself.

"Right," Clara cut in on their little moment, it was sweet, but she could do without the flirty thing before her own date, didn't need the image of her grandparents getting all sweet before she was to meet a bloke, "Got to go. Going to be late."

"Oi!" the Doctor rounded on her, "I want to meet him," he called, hurrying towards the hall after Clara…or about to when the Professor gasped and he was back at her side in an instant, Clara rushing back to the door as well to see him kneeling before her.

The Professor scrambled to grab his hand and place it on her stomach where one of her hands had been resting, "Feel that?" she whispered to the Doctor.

The Doctor's eyes widened as he felt a tiny thump against his hand, it was small, really so very small if she hadn't been pressing his hand so firmly to her stomach he would have missed it, "It kicked," he breathed, before laughing.

They'd been trying to feel for that for ages now and FINALLY they'd felt the baby move, felt it kick!

"That's wonderful!" the Doctor beamed, leaning in to kiss the Professor soundly.

Clara smiled and started to back away, pleased that it wasn't something wrong, and moved to turn down the hall when…

"Don't think you're getting away so easily Miss Oswald," the Doctor called against the Professor's lips, his left arm extended back behind him, pointing at her a moment before he turned to look at her, "We want to meet this bloke."

"It IS the same one, right?" the Professor asked, "The same as when we met Orson?"

Clara sighed, but nodded, "Yeah, same one."

"So it's serious then?"

"Getting there," Clara tried to shrug it off.

"Then I think we should meet him," the Doctor stood.

"How about when it actually GETS serious you can meet him?"

"Why can't we meet him now?" the Professor frowned.

"You're both…a bit much to handle," Clara told them, knowing they'd appreciate the honesty, "I need to make sure he can handle ME before he has to face down you two. You'd scare anyone off."

"Yes, so…why aren't we meeting him now then?" the Doctor asked.

Clara blinked and almost got offended before she laughed, "Love you too Gramps," she rolled her eyes at him.

She understood that he hadn't meant it as he legitimately wanted to scare away Danny, Danny Pink, the man she was sort of really seeing now, but that he actually did want to make sure that the man could handle all this and, to the Doctor (much like the Professor always told her), it was all about jumping in headfirst and seeing if he could sink or swim. To the Doctor, he wanted to see how Danny held out against something as imposing as he and the Professor, because if he could handle THEM then he could handle her. But, well, she wanted to get to know him better before he went running for the hills screaming.

"Bye," she gave them a little wave, turning to head down the hall towards the door of her flat, the Doctor following her out into the hall…when a phone rang, but not one from her apartment.

The Professor frowned and pulled herself up with a bit (only a bit, she refused to think of it as more than a bit) of help from the kitchen table and headed to the doorway, staring at the TARDIS as was the Doctor as the phone behind the instruction panel rang its familiar sound.

"There you go," Clara gestured at the box, "You've got a stand-in grandchild for the night."

"Hardly anyone in the universe has that number," the Doctor frowned.

"Well, I've got it," Clara remarked.

"Yes, from some woman in a shop. We still don't know who that was…"

"It could be Martha," the Professor breathed, hurrying for the phone.

"Don't!" Clara shouted.

"Why not?" the Professor looked over at her, opening the panel as the Doctor walked over beside her.

"Because, if you answer it, something will happen."

"What?"

"A thing."

"It's just a phone, Clara," the Doctor reached in and grabbed it, "Nothing happens when you answer the phone," and put the receiver to his ear…

~8~

The next thing any of them knew, they were sitting in a small, dark room, like a warehouse, with two strangers across from them, and four white worms on the table before them, the Time Lords, Clara, and a young black woman touching them with a man with small cybernetic pieces on the side of his face across from them.

The Professor gasped and snapped her hand away from the Memory Worm, the Doctor, who had had his worm right beside his ear as though holding a phone there, threw his down onto the table. Clara screamed and tossed the worm aside, all of them in shock and confused as to how they'd gotten there and why they were there.

"Doctor?" Clara looked over at them, panting from the shock, "Professor?"

"Don't touch it," the Doctor shouted.

"Where are we? How did we get here?"

"Who are you?" the young man asked, staring at them, "Sorry, what's going on? I don't understand."

"Argh!" the black woman grimaced, trying to wipe her hands off, wincing as her cheeks bulged almost similar in shape to the worm's, "What is that thing?"

"It's a Memory Worm," the Professor explained quickly, "It erases hours of your memory if you let it touch you…"

"What happened to your face?" Clara breathed, staring at the black woman, glancing at the others, "Did you see her face?"

"More important things to focus on at the moment Clara," the Professor put her hand to her stomach, trying to breathe through her scare. She knew that the worms wouldn't affect the baby, but appearing there, with no memory of how she got there, of what could have happened to her or the baby.

She let out a breath of relief when she felt a gentle kick, the baby was still there, it was still alright.

"How did I get here?" the black woman brought her out of her thoughts.

"The same way we all did," the Professor sighed, "But we've all forgotten. Irritating," she muttered, "As though I don't have enough issues at the moment."

She rubbed her head at that, the longer the pregnancy went on, the more she started to have trouble recalling things. It was small things, things she didn't really NEED to know, but it bothered her. Her mind was like an index and she'd always been able to recall things that the Doctor forgot, remember small details. The fact that things were slipping her mind, that she couldn't recall the exact detail of something, it was something she was trying not to let upset her. She was trying to think of it as she had more important things to focus on at the moment, like her child, and the Doctor, and that Gallifrey is somewhere out there, and not let it get to her, but this was an unwelcomed surprise.

"And who are you?" the black woman eyed them.

But before they could even answer, there was a crackle as a speaker turned on, "I am the Doctor," the Doctor spoke on a recording, "A Time Lord from Gallifrey. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will."

"I am the Professor," the Professor frowned as her voice came out as well, "A Time Lady from Gallifrey. I've agreed to the memory wipe of my own free will."

Clara opened her mouth to ask what was going on, when even HER voice sounded, "I am Clara Oswald, human. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will…do I really have to touch that worm thing?"

"Yes, you do," the Professor on the recording told her.

"And change your shoes," the Doctor's recording added, "You're next, Psi."

The man before them, Psi, shifted at that, "I am Psi, augmented human. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will."

They watched as Psi pulled a chip off the various ones on his head and examined it, seeing it was marked 'Memory Compromised,' before he put it back in.

"I am Saibra, mutant human," another woman spoke, clearly the last of them, the black woman, "I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will."

The moment the recording stopped a small case that was sitting on the table in the center of them all clicked, the locks coming open as it popped up, a golden light shining out of it as it opened. It had two screens, allowing all of them to watch as footage began to play, another voice speaking, clearly disguised, electronically manipulated.

They watched as a golden circle with a K in the middle of it appeared on the screens for a moment before a shadowy, hooded figure faded into the frame, "This is a recorded message," it began, "I am the Architect. Your last memory is of receiving a contact from an unknown agency. Me. Everything since has been erased from your minds. Now, pay close attention to this briefing," the image shifted to a large building set in the middle of the planet, so large it almost seemed like it was the planet, "This is the Bank of Karabraxos, the most secure bank in the galaxy. A fortress for the super-rich. If you can afford your own star system, this is where you keep it. No one sets foot on the planet without protocols. All movement is monitored, all air consumption regulated. DNA is authenticated at every stage. Intruders will be incinerated," the image flickered to a woman breathing on a tube sticking out of the wall, the light in the tube turning red…and the walls around her protruding nozzles out of them that burned her alive. Clara gasped at the image, looking away as it switched to an Asian couple putting a painting in a drawer, the room very simple, about the size of a large lift, "Each vault, buried deep in the earth, is accessed by a drop-slot at the planet's surface. It's atomically sealed, an unbreakable lock. The atoms have all been scrambled. Your presence on this planet is unauthorized. A team will have been dispatched to terminate you."

Just as the last word was spoken, someone started to pound against the door behind them, "This is bank security!" a man shouted, "Open up!"

"Your survival depends on following my instructions," the video continued.

"Open up and you shall be humanely disposed of."

"There's another exit!" Saibra pointed, spotting a door in the back.

"All the information you need is in this case…"

Psi reached out and quickly grabbed the case, turning it to him as he plucked a chip from his head and stuck it in a slot on the case, "What are you doing?" the Doctor asked.

"Downloading," Psi closed his eyes, focusing on letting the process happen.

"Augmented human," the Professor reminded the Doctor.

"Nice," he nodded.

"The Bank of Karabraxos is impregnable," the footage continued as the Professor looked into the case and pulled what appeared to be a small mobile phone out of it, all of them ignoring the guards as they tried to break in the door, shouting for them to surrender, though Clara and Saibra were on their feet, ready to run, "The Bank of Karabraxos has never been breached. You will rob the Bank of Karabraxos."

The footage cut off, just as the security broke through one of the windows, causing glass to shatter. Psi grabbed the case and the five of them started to run. The Professor winced, a hand coming to her stomach to help her keep up.

Never would she every have thought she'd actually wish she could run as fast as she'd been trained to before.

But they ran on, rushing as fast and as far as they could, around various corners, not daring to stop till they were all out of breath and the sounds of the break in had faded into the distance.

The Doctor immediately turned to the Professor as she rested back against a wall, panting, her eyes closed, her hands on her stomach, "You alright?" he moved to her side, putting his own hand on her middle as well. Running like that couldn't have been very good, a nice healthy jog sure…full out run? No.

"I think so," she nodded, taking quite a few deep breaths, "But…can we keep the running to a minimum please?"

"I'll do my best," he promised, kissing her quickly, before spinning to Psi, "Augmented human. Computer augmented, yes? Mainframe in your head?"

"I'm a gamer," the man shrugged, "Sorry, who put you in charge?"

The Professor, however, scoffed before the Doctor could answer, "You're lying," she nodded at him, "There's a prison code on your neck, I can see it from here," at least her eyesight hadn't started to go on her.

Psi frowned but huffed, "I'm a hacker/bank robber."

"Good," the Doctor nodded, "This is a good day to be a bank robber. Mutant human," he rounded on Saibra, "What kind of mutant?"

"Like he says," Saibra frowned, "Why are you in charge now?"

"I'm not," the Doctor shook his head, "She's my commanding officer," he pointed at the Professor, who offered them a small smile, a tiny wave of her hand while her other remained on her pregnant belly.

"Hi," the Professor offered.

"Now, you," the Doctor pointed at Saibra, "Mutant how?"

Saibra shifted from foot to foot before looking at Clara, holding her hand out to the girl. Clara glanced at the Doctor who nodded at her to take it, so she did. And, before their eyes, Saibra transformed right into Clara, creating two identical Oswalds standing there in the hall.

"I touch living cells," Saibra sighed, letting go of Clara's hand and shifting back into herself, "I can replicate the owner."

"Your face, when we first saw you…" Clara began.

"I touched the worm."

"You can replicate their clothes too?"

"I wear a hologram shell," Saibra explained.

The Doctor held up the small mobile-like device, a bit smaller than an actual mobile, more like a flashdrive or memory stick now that he got a better look at it, "Human cells," he told her, "DNA from a customer, maybe?" he looked at the Professor.

"Could be a disguise to get us in," the Professor guessed.

"Wait," Clara shook her head, "We're actually going to do it? Rob the bank?"

"I don't think we have a choice," the Doctor sighed, not exactly pleased to do it though, "We've already agreed to."

He turned to Saibra and held out the small stick for her to touch and absorb the DNA that would get them in.

~8~

It appeared that the DNA that Saibra touched was that of an older gentleman, not too old, but old enough where his hair had grayed, the man also wearing a well made suit as well if the hologram shell that Saibra was wearing was as exact as it appeared. The small group followed Saibra through the halls of the bank, the largest building on the planet, really quite likely the only main building on the planet, heading for one of the drop slots that the video had mentioned. It was a drop off and retrieval area of the bank, once DNA was taken it would bring up the object that the person had placed inside it from the depths of the vaults and safes.

"How long can you maintain the image for?" the Professor asked Saibra quietly as they made their way past the various people, trying to find one of the drop off locations that were empty, but quite a few were in use.

"For as long as I like," Saibra replied.

"Good," the Professor nodded, rubbing her stomach as they went through the rather open space, all of them far too aware that there were probably scores of cameras focused on them even now and walking with too much purpose might make them a bit too obvious.

"Question one," the Doctor spoke, more thinking out loud than really expecting them to answer, or at least expecting the humans to answer, "Robbing banks is easy if you've got a TARDIS. So why," he looked at the Professor, "Are we not using it?"

The Professor could only shrug, "Did you SEE the TARDIS anywhere?" she countered, "Whoever had us forget what happened might have hidden the TARDIS, used it as leverage if we tried to disagree or back out. I didn't see it in that warehouse. We can't use it if we're not IN it."

"Ok," he nodded, "Where the TARDIS is probably should be question one."

They all froze as an alarm began to sound, causing everyone else to stop what they were doing and look around at what might be happening. The exits were quickly blocked, security walls and doors going down before them, blocking them, keeping every one trapped inside the bank.

"Banking floor locking down," was the message that sounded above them through the speakers, a rather cheerful and peppy voice for such an announcement.

"They know we're here," Saibra breathed.

"It could be anything," the Professor shook her head, "And talking about 'us' would likely draw attention to us."

"Banking floor locking down," the message repeated as one of the doors opened and a ginger woman stepped through, dressed in a sharp suit, her hair tied back neatly, glasses poised on her nose as she walked ahead of a security team, her heels clicking on the floor, a smirk painted on her lips.

The woman stopped in the middle of the room and turned to the door she'd just entered as something was led in. It was a large alien, two-toe footed, trapped in an orange jumpsuit, like what a prisoner would wear, its arms tied to its sides as though the jumpsuit also doubled as a straightjacket. It was gray skinned, its mouth large, with a small nose, and its eyes stuck up on two stalks, quite a bit like a snail in a way, but sticking out towards people, parallel to the floor. It walked slowly, chains tightly wound around it as more guards followed, all of them focused on the creature, their guns raised and ready, as tough expecting it to attack at any second.

"What is that?" Saibra whispered.

"Don't know," the Doctor frowned, "Hate not knowing."

"It's an Onchioida," the Professor mumbled to them, "You really paid NO attention at all in school," the Professor nudged the Doctor lightly for that, "It's a telepathic alien," she added, "Empathetic to a degree, can be used to sense certain emotions depend what they're directed to look for."

"Excuse me, sir," the ginger woman walked right over to another man, a young black man in a fine suit, "I regret to say that your guilt has been detected."

"Apparently it senses guilt," the Doctor frowned, watching the altercation.

"What?" the man blinked, shaking his head, "That…that's totally ridiculous."

"Is it, sir?" the woman hummed, "Well then, we will certainly doublecheck. The Teller will now scan your thoughts for any criminal intent. Good luck, sir," she stepped to the side and gestured the guards to lead the Teller, as she called the Onchioida, forward, the man setting his briefcase down, a sign that he had nothing to hide.

"Don't look," the Professor warned them, reaching out to grab Clara's arm and turn her around to face away.

"Why not?" Psi frowned.

"Just don't," she gave them a firm look, but they weren't her granddaughter, they weren't their companions, they didn't even know why they were all involved so, of course, they didn't listen.

Until the man started to cry out in pain as the Teller emitted a high pitched sound, causing the man to grab at his head.

"What about our guilt?" Clara whispered to them, standing very still, not daring to turn around and watch, the shouts and screams were bad enough.

"Currently being drowned out," the Doctor deadpanned.

"What's he doing?" Saibra asked, seeing the man closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"If he has a plan, he's trying not to think of it," the Professor told them, knowing that look.

"Ever tried not thinking about something?" Psi scoffed.

"No," Clara murmured.

"You may have to," Saibra whispered as the Teller began to roar, a deafening bellow of sorts.

"Ah, criminal intent detected," the ginger woman stepped back over, tsking the man as he panted, his hands still on his head as the pain hadn't faded, "How naughty. What was your plan? Counterfeit currency in your briefcase, perhaps?"

"No, not at all!" the man gasped, "For God's sake…"

"It doesn't really matter," the woman shrugged, "We'll establish the details later. The Teller is never wrong when it comes to guilt. Your account will now be deleted and, obviously, your mind. Suppertime," she smirked back at the Teller.

The guards struggled a bit as the Teller stepped forward, but moved with it. Its eyes came together in front of it, a bit above its normal level, and a pulsing energy began to form between the eyes, before it flashed out and struck the man in the head.

Psi flinched and turned away as the man began to scream in pain, feeling his cybernetics reacting to the energy waves being emitted.

"It's wiping his mind," the Professor frowned, watching it happen, reaching out to grab the Doctor's arm as she felt herself getting a bit ill, knowing what was happening, "Turning his brain into soup."

And even then, the idea of soup lost its appeal, actually made her stomach churn…

"Your next of kin will be informed," the woman tried to speak over the sounds of the agonized cries the man was giving, seemingly not at all affected by what was going on before her, "And incarcerated, as further inducement to honest financial transactions."

"We've got to help him," Clara tried to turn around, but the Professor wouldn't let her, her grip like iron and getting tighter by the second.

"He's gone already," the Doctor sighed, "It's over."

Clara managed to look over her shoulder, seeing liquid leaking from the man's eyes, "He's in agony, look at him!"

"Clara…" the Professor grew even greener, "Those aren't tears."

"That's soup," the Doctor nodded.

The Professor let go of Clara's arm to put a hand to her mouth as the Teller separated its eyes, the man's screams stopping as he slumped forward, one of the guard caught him, revealing that the front of his skull had caved into his head.

"I'm gonna be sick," the Professor turned and ran to the nearest rubbish bin as the Doctor jolted after her, grabbing her hair as she emptied her stomach into it, both of them ignoring the 'guilty' man being led off, not even hearing the ginger woman broadcasting an announcement of apology to others that had to witness that as the Doctor rubbed her back, trying to soothe her.

"You alright?" he murmured when she was able to get a few breaths in her.

"I don't know what's wrong with me?" she whispered, resting a hand to her head, "I've seen worse than that, I KNOW I have, hell I've probably DONE worse than that and I just…" she shook her head, feeling tears in her eyes yet again, she was starting to curse how weepy these hormones were making her, it was like she had no control over her emotions, "Why can't I stomach it anymore? I should be able to…"

"You're…"

"And don't say pregnant," she pointed a warning finger at him, not even looking at him, not even opening her eyes that she'd closed in an effort to keep the tears in.

"Different now," he finished, reaching out to touch her cheek and turn her head to face him, stroking her cheek with his thumb till she opened her eyes, "Every incarnation is different, we have the same memories but we react differently," he let out a breath, "My 9th self grabbed a gun on a Dalek…my 10th couldn't even let someone else lift one to them, refused to touch guns or let them near…"

"Unless it was me and my trusty blaster eh?"

He smiled as he got one out of her, "Unless it was you," he agreed, "But you see, we're always different. Same memories, different reactions. Whether this is because you're pregnant or because that's just how you are now, it's natural to feel differently after we change. If we were exactly the same with a different face, there'd be no point to regeneration."

The Professor let out a breath, "I don't like this."

"I know," he nodded, lifting her head up higher to kiss her forehead, "Maybe, once the baby is born, it will fade back and it'll be different again."

"I hope so," she mumbled reaching up to brush away a tear that fell, only for the Doctor to beat her to it, "I hated how much I'm crying over things."

He chuckled, "I'm actually rather enjoying it."

"You always get cross with my sad eyes," she pointed out.

"When you use them against me," he corrected, "When it's just you being sad…I get to make you feel better."

"My own personal doctor," she murmured.

"My own personal professor," he smiled, leaning in to bump his forehead to hers, "Feeling better now?"

"Depends…is it gone?"

The Doctor looked over to see the Teller and the 'guilty' man were both gone, as was the ginger woman, "Yeah."

"Then yes," she took a breath, taking his hand from her face to hold as she turned and walked back to where the others were waiting, "Sorry," she mumbled to them.

"You ok?" Clara reached out to rub the Professor's arm.

"Just…got a bit ill."

"It's normal," Clara reassured her, "I got a bit ill at it too."

The Professor nodded at the others, "Come on, we need to finish this, the sooner the better."

They all turned and headed over to one of the deposit rooms that another couple stepped out of. It was a large room, rather plain compared to the rest of the bank. The walls were red with marble columns in each corner and gold colored accents around it. There was a computer fixed into the wall opposite the sliding metal doors they'd stepped through.

"Deposit booth locking," the computer announced, "Please exhale. Your valuables will be transported up from the vault."

Saibra glanced at the others but stepped up to a small tube that was sticking out of the wall and breathed on it, holding her breath after till the light inside it turned green instead of red. The second it did Saibra released her form and transformed back to her normal self just as a case arrived.

The Doctor stepped forward, glancing at Clara as the woman moved to stand by the Professor who still looked a bit green, before he popped open the deposit bin just under the computer and pulled out a case that was very similar to the one that had been on the table when they'd come to themselves.

"If he can break in here and plant this thing, then why does he need our help?" Psi wondered.

"Depends what the thing is," the Doctor reasoned, popping open the case and frowning, "Ok, well, I'm no expert, but fuses, timer…I'm going to stick my neck out and say bomb," he looked at the Professor, "Expert opinion?"

"Expert?" Saibra glanced at the Professor, skeptical as she stepped up.

"You can turn into anyone you touch," the Professor reminded her, "Don't judge a book by its cover, appearances can be deceiving after all," she tugged the case a bit closer and picked up the device, eyeing it, "It's not a bomb," she shook her head.

"Then what is it?" Psi frowned.

"Can you hack into the bank schematic?" the Professor answered instead.

"Yeah…"

"Then do it."

"Why?"

"I can tell you once you've done it."

Psi rolled his eyes but moved over to one of the marble columns, spotting a smaller monitor set into it and realizing it was likely a weaker system than the main computer. He pulled out another chip from his head, attaching a wire to it and plugging it in, connecting his mind to the system and searching for the schematics.

"Here," he called.

The Professor and the Doctor walked over, looking at the images playing rapidly past the screen, "The floor below is all service corridors," the Professor noticed.

"The veins and arteries of the bank," the Doctor mused as Psi disconnected himself, the schematics disappearing.

Clara frowned, glancing from the device in the Professor's hand to the floor, "He wants us to blow through the floor?" she guessed.

"Well, we'll die if we do that!" Saibra cried.

"No, we won't," the Professor shook her head, "Because this thing," she held up the wired and timed device, "It's not a bomb. Well, it IS, but not the sort of bomb your thinking…"

"Yeah, and why should we trust you?" Psi frowned, shaking his head, "No, you know what, I'll take my chances out there."

"What do you want, Psi," the Doctor called as the man started to head for the doors, "More than anything else? Whatever it is, it's in this bank."

"You agreed to rob the most impregnable bank in history," the Professor agreed, "You must have had a very good reason. We all must have," she looked around at them.

"Picture the thing you want most in the universe, and decide how badly you want it," the Doctor looked at Saibra and Psi more so than Clara, knowing she'd stick with them, "Well?"

"Still don't understand why you're in charge," Saibra muttered, crossing her arms.

"I told you, it's not ME," the Doctor rolled his eyes, "Don't you pudding-brains listen?"

"Can you stop calling them pudding-brains?" the Professor looked at him.

"Thanks," Psi muttered.

"It's making me want pudding again," she continued, making the Doctor chuckle.

"For now," the Time Lord crossed his hearts.

The Professor nodded and turned back to the others, "This is a Dimensional Shift Bomb," she explained moving to place it on the ground, her free hand moving to her stomach to help her bend over enough to set it down and stand back up, "All it will do is send the particles of the floor to a different plane for a short time," she reached over and nicked the Doctor's sonic out of his pocket, flicking it on the bomb and activating it, handing the sonic back, "Just back up a bit to give it space," she took a few steps back as the machine began to whir, power building…until there was a small flash of light and a hole appeared in the floor, just big enough for them to climb though, able to see a ladder running straight down.

"Come on then," the Doctor moved over, allowing the Professor to go down first just as there was a sound of battering against the metal doors that had locked behind them, the guards had tracked them down again, "Clara you next," he helped her down as well, making sure the two women were down first before ushering Psi and Saibra after them, him going down last.

The Doctor looked up and flicked the sonic once more, reversing the bomb and replacing the displaced particles back into place, making it so the hole never existed only moments before the guards ran in to see they'd 'vanished.'

~8~

The Doctor stepped over to the Professor's side the moment he was at the bottom of the ladder, in the lower levels of the bank, making sure she was ok. Climbing down that ladder with her stomach couldn't have been comfortable or easy and he was starting to think he should have let Clara go first incase the Professor needed any help, but she'd proven just as strong as ever and had made it down as easily as she could. She smiled at him for his concern and took his hand, the small group walking off, following Psi who had the schematics memorized in his cybernetic components.

"So what are we supposed to do now?" Saibra looked at the Time Lords, "What's the plan?"

"I don't know," the Doctor replied.

"It'll come in time," the Professor assured her, "The Architect set all this up. It should make sense eventually."

"My personal plan is that a thing will probably happen quite soon."

"Ah, so that's it?" Saibra scoffed at him, "That's your plan?"

"Yep."

"A thing will happen?"

"A thing. Probably," he nodded, "And besides that's only MY plan."

"There's another plan?"

"Have you met my wife?" the Doctor squeezed the Professor's hand before lifting it to Saibra, "The Plan-Maker?"

"Plan-Maker?" the Professor gave him a look for that.

"Not good?" he turned to her, though there was a small smile on his face regardless.

She rolled her eyes, "Rubbish," she agreed.

"Hmm…what would you prefer then?"

"I dunno," she shrugged, "The…Strategist?"

He laughed at that, "Isn't that a fancier word for Plan-Maker?"

"Yes," she agreed, smiling, "But it sounds smarter."

"Plan-Make would be better then."

"Why?" she gave him a look for that, not quite sure what he was trying to say.

"You're already smarter than all of the pudd…monkeys," he supplied, holding off on calling the humans pudding-brains again, "Smarter than me," he added, "Might be best to make them feel less inadequate with a simpler name."

"Do YOU feel inadequate?" she frowned at that, all through their lives he had always been the one to find her intelligence refreshing and wonderful, even her being smarter than him in school and making better grades, he always was the one to point it out to her as an encouragement when she was down, that she was wonderfully intelligent. She never got the sense off him that he was upset or jealous that she was a little more intelligent than her, she'd assumed it was because there were people smarter than her so he'd have to feel that way about everyone and, while he did have a rather large ego, he wasn't THAT bad.

"No, no, no," he said quickly, "No, I love it," he smiled, "Between the two of us," he shifted his hand that was holding hers slightly so the back of his hand rested against her stomach, "This one will be the most clever thing in the universe," he winked at her for that, making her smile.

"Oi!" Clara's voice called to them, "Over here!"

The Time Lords looked over and saw Clara standing near a small crate, one of the cases sitting on top of it, Psi beside her.

They headed over, gathering around the case and looking at it, the Doctor looking it over as Clara wondered, "How does he get the cases here?"

"By breaking into the bank in advance of breaking into the bank," the Professor shrugged.

"Well, how did he do that? And if he can do that, why does he need us?"

"Not our problem," the Doctor shook his head before the Professor could answer that she didn't know, none of them knew, they could guess but they didn't KNOW.

"Well, what is our prob…prob…prob…prob…" Psi flinched as he started to sound like a broken record, repeating himself, shaking his head to cut himself off.

"You ok?" Clara frowned at him.

"Drive glitch," Psi waved her off, "It's fine."

"Guilt is our problem," the Professor explained.

The Doctor snapped his finger and pointed at the Professor for that, "Guilt, in this bank, is fatal."

"The Teller can hear it."

"And ever since that first case was opened, we've been targets."

"The more we know about why we're here, the louder our guilt screams."

"That's why we wiped our memories."

"For our own safety."

"Now, once we open this," the Doctor gestured at the case, "We can't close it again…and why are you looking at us like that?" he frowned, seeing Psi and Saibra staring at them with curious looks.

"Do you two do that a lot?" Saibra had to ask.

"Do what?" the Professor started to smile, seeing Clara shaking her head at them fondly, knowing that whenever they 'did that' it was a reminder to her that they were still in there, the Doctor and Professor she knew before.

"Talk like that," Psi clarified.

"Sorry," the Doctor shrugged.

Psi shook his head, trying to focus back on the box instead of the really weird aliens before him, "Would it be safer if only one of us learned what was in the case?"

"I'm waiting for you to volunteer," the Doctor informed the man.

"Er, why me?"

"Because there were four worms and five of us," the Professor pointed out, "YOU didn't need that memory worm, you're half-computer. You could perform a manual delete. You can clear your thoughts."

Psi sighed, but nodded, "Ok," he stepped around the crate to the other side, turning the case to face him before he slowly opened it, only to frown moments later, "I don't know what it is. You may as well have a look," he spun the case around and opened it fully so they could see that there were seven small tubes in the case, set into foam inserts, small, about the size of their palm, with metal pins on the end, almost like a grenade but in cylinder form, "Well, what are they?"

"Not a clue," the Doctor frowned.

"Hmm, interesting," Saibra eyed him as the Professor looked at the devices.

"What is?"

"You're lying."

"They're Shredders," the Professor murmured, pointing at the pins on the end.

"What, like a…grenade?" Clara guessed.

"Something like that," the Professor nodded, picking them up and slipping them into her pockets, "It's an exit strategy..."

"Why'd you li…li…li…lie?" Psi glitched again, shaking his head firmly to stop it, "Ugh. Sorry. Stress. Drains the batteries."

"Interface with that," the Professor pointed at a console on the wall, "Recharge."

"Do we have time for this?" Saibra asked.

"Well, why not?" the Doctor shrugged, "There's no immediate threat."

The Professor closed her eyes as an alarm began to blare above them, "Warning. Intruders detected!"

"I should stop saying things like that," the Doctor sighed.

"You really, REALLY should," the Professor agreed.

"Clara, you stay with Psi," the Doctor pointed at Clara, taking the Professor's hand, not about to let her out of his sight in the middle of all this, not even to stay with Clara and…it seemed like she deemed the situation safe enough not to protest as he tugged her off, Clara and Psi were just going to recharge quickly, and the bank didn't know WHERE they were just yet, Psi could hack in and cut the alarms to help give them more time anyway, "Saibra, with us, let's go and investigate."

~8~

The Doctor kicked out a grill under a sign of 'No Entry' and into a small corridor. It was a vent system, a very large one and, while he hadn't wanted the Professor to have to crawl through it, she'd insisted that she was fine and that she could do it just fine. The vent was big enough that it wasn't a cramped space, it wasn't like the memory banks of the Dalek so she would be just fine. Still, it hadn't stopped him from going first and turning to help her up and out of it the moment he was on his feet, a hand resting on her stomach to make sure she was ok. They looked around, up and down the hall, before starting to head in one direction, recalling a general idea of where they were from the schematics that Psi had shown them in the deposit room.

"Aren't you going to ask me?" the Doctor wondered out loud as they walked.

"Why did you lie?" Saibra guessed.

"Yes," he nodded, "How did you know I was lying? Only one who's ever been able to tell when I lie is the Professor."

"And it's only because I've been around him for centuries, I know all his expressions," the Professor agreed, "Even when he has a new face, his expressions are the same."

"Cause of that," Saibra nodded, "The faces. I've had a lot of 'em, I find them easy to read."

"Quite a gift," the Doctor remarked.

"Gift?" Saibra scoffed at the word.

"Strategic advantage then," the Professor offered, "It got us in here."

"Mutant gene," Saibra corrected, unable to think of her condition as a gift or an advantage, "No one can touch me. If they do, I transform. Touch me and you'll be looking at yourselves. I am alone."

"Why?" the Doctor frowned at her.

"Could you trust someone who looked back at you out of your own eyes?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to answer, when his words were caught in his throat at the sound of a low moan drifting over to them. They glanced at each other before starting to head in that direction, the Professor frowning and gripping the Doctor's hand tighter the nearer they got to a row of cells. They'd stopped before one in particular, just at the end, when Clara and Psi caught up to them, only to see that it was the 'guilty' man from earlier, sitting in a cell, his hands chained, his head caved in.

"Oh, my God," Clara gasped at the sight, moving to the Professor's side and putting a hand on her back, knowing the reaction she'd had to what happened before, "Why is he even still alive?"

"An example," the Professor murmured, "They ALL are."

It was then that the others noticed that the man was not the only one occupying a cell in that hall, there were others, all in a similar state.

"Because someone is watching," the Doctor agreed, looking up at a red light that was blinking nearby, likely a security feed.

"However this goes," Psi murmured, staring at the man with a deep frown, "Whatever happens, don't let me end up like that."

They looked up as another alarm sounded, the same message as before, but this time their location had been compromised, "Intruders on the service level. Intruders on the service level."

"And again," the Doctor took the Professor's hand, turning them to not quite run, but briskly walk down the halls, trying to find away to at least another level. They found another 'No Entry' sign above another vent grill and the Doctor quickly soniced it, pulling the panel aside to let them in, "Now this says place to hide…" he mumbled tapping the 'No Entry' sign and gesturing them to crawl in.

It wasn't like the other vent. That one had been a bit longer, more like an actual vent. This one seemed more like just a hole in the wall with a grate that had been placed over it to block it, like a secret entrance of sorts. However the room they ended up in was not one that they should have been in, not at all…it was, quite possibly, even more dangerous than being in the hall with the guards after them.

They'd found themselves in the Teller's holding cell it appeared.

"Where are we?" Saibra breathed, not daring to speak louder than that when she caught sight of the Teller.

The alien was sitting in a large glass box, hunched over in the corner of it. The glass itself was slightly fogged, with water droplets collecting on the inside, giving it a rather humid look. The Teller was breathing slowly, but twitching slightly, still alive, still aware.

"Nobody move," the Professor whispered to them, putting a finger on her lips, "Nobody say a word."

"It's cocooned," the Doctor agreed.

"Forced hibernation."

"Its power is probably dormant…"

But, of course, because it had been the Doctor to speak the last words, the Teller jerked into consciousness, the sound of boots stomping outside the room and voices shouting helping to spur it to stir.

"Clara," the Professor reached out for her, slowly making her way over to her.

"What?" Clara took her hand.

"It's locked on to you," the Doctor told her, "It may still be asleep. Don't wake it…"

"Ok," she swallowed, "How do I not do that?"

"You get behind me," the Professor managed to make it over to her, tugging Clara behind her as the Teller jerked again, the Professor flinching as it locked on her instead no.

"Professor!" the Doctor nearly shouted, his eyes wide, only the fact that the Teller seemed to still be asleep keeping him from actually yelling that, "What are you doing?!"

"Keeping my mind blank," she replied, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, focusing, "Blocking…compartmentalizing…"

The group was silent, watching, waiting, holding their breath as they watched her relax her face and body, watched as the Teller took a few deep breaths and settled back to slumber.

The Professor opened her eyes and gave the Doctor a weak smile. It was…harder to do, with how jumbled her thoughts seemed to have become as of late, but at least she could still do that, at least she could still force things to the back if she really had to focus. It took effort, more effort than she knew a human would be able to manage, more effort than she was sure even the Doctor could manage. But she'd been trained to do that, to distance herself, to not be affected, to not give a thought to something she had to do. She could use it now, when it counted, to keep her mind blank, to keep it quiet, so that the Teller would think it was alone and go back to sleep.

"Don't you ever do that to me again," the Doctor grabbed the Professor's hand and pulled her to him, hugging her tightly, pressing a kiss to her hair.

"I had to," she mumbled into his chest as he held her tighter.

"Come on," Psi whispered to them, nodding to the side, to another vent across the room, "This way."

The small group hurried over to the vent, Saibra keeping look out by the vent they'd closed before as the Doctor got the new one open, pushing the Professor through it with Clara, "Saibra!" he hissed to her to come as Psi dove into it. He had just ducked down to follow Psi when there was a crash from the hall, as though the guards had tried to break into another room and search…

Which only served to cause the Teller to jolt awake with a roar, turning to them.

Saibra screamed as she fell to the ground, caught in the mental hold of the Teller.

"Saibra!" Psi shouted as he turned around, but the Doctor was in the way, closer to the room than all of them.

"She's still in there," Clara gasped, "How do we get her out?"

"Doctor…" the Professor looked at him, unable to see into the room, being the farthest back, "What's happening."

"It's scanning her brain," the Doctor told them, "And then…"

"Then what?" Psi called.

"Soup."

"Then help her!" Clara shoved him, hearing Saibra screaming louder in pain.

"Doctor," the Professor managed to grab his arm, reaching out to hand him one of the Shredder's she'd taken and put in her pockets.

He frowned at that but she nodded, 'It's the only way to stop it,' she told him, 'It's as humane as we can manage…'

She doubted the Doctor would let her in there to try and stop the Teller now that it was actively attacking now, fully awake, and she'd have to fight past Clara and Psi to do it and the vent wasn't THAT big, and the Doctor would restrain her as much as he could and she knew he wouldn't be able to manage it long but the time it would take would have Saibra dead before she could step into the room or get near enough the end of the vent to blast the Teller.

The Doctor nodded and half leaned out of the vent, "Saibra!"

"What should I do?" the woman cried, "How can I get away?"

"It's rooting through your brain. It's tasting all the secrets stashed inside. Any moment now, it will finish its sweep and start feasting on what's left."

"And then I become one of those things we saw sitting in a cage?"

"Yes."

"Can you not get me out?" she winced and grabbed her head, feeling the pain get stronger.

The Doctor could only shake his head, "I'm sorry. We don't know how, once it's locked onto your thoughts…"

"Exit strategy. That means what I think it means, right?" she looked at the Doctor who tossed her the shredder, "Painless?"

"And instant," he nodded.

Saibra took a deep breath, grasping the small device in her hands, "When you meet the Architect, promise me something. Kill him."

"I hate him, but I can't make that promise," he told her.

"A good man."

"No," he shook his head, "I'm sure the boss," he nodded towards the vent, "Wants to kill him first and well, pregnant."

He would NOT be getting in the way of that.

Saibra chuckled at that before closing her eyes and pulling the pin out of the shredder, vanishing in a flash of blue light, making the Teller roar in frustration.

The Doctor turned and ushered them back through the vent, bringing up the grill to hide where they'd gone from the guards if they got into the room, before following the others out the other side of the vent, into a large, grey corridor. They hurried down it, coming to a very large vault door at the end, looking quite like an ordinary vault door, big, round, wheeled mechanisms on the front to lock it.

"Right, vault," the Doctor nodded as they looked at it, "That's clear."

"What's not clear is what we do now," the Professor grumbled, rubbing her stomach.

Clara looked over at the two Time Lords, seeing them frowning at the door, standing very close, as close as she usually saw them when something either very sweet or very sad happened, "You ok?" she asked them cautiously.

"No, we're amnesiacs robbing a bank," the Doctor huffed, "Why would we be ok? Why would I be ok with someone putting my wife in this position?"

"I was talking about Saibra."

"Saibra's dead, Clara," the Professor sighed, pulling one of the Shredders out of her pocket, "Atomic Shredder."

"She's dead, we're alive," the Doctor nodded, a bit coldly, "Prioritize if you want to stay that way."

"Oh, is that why you call yourself the Doctor?" Psi glared at him, "The professional detachment."

"Listen," the Doctor rolled his eyes, in no mood to deal with this, "When we're done here, by all means, you go and find yourself a shoulder to cry on. You'll probably need that. Till then, what you need is me and my wife."

The Professor reached out and touched the Doctor's arm, "Calm down," she told him, "And come help me examine the door," she led him over to the vault, reaching out to touch it while he scanned it with the sonic.

"Underneath it all, he isn't really like that," Clara whispered to Psi, but they could still hear her.

"It's very obvious that you've been with them for a while," Psi remarked.

"Why?"

"Because you are really good at the excuses."

"Oi," Clara poked him, "Those are my grandparents you're talking about. And you don't know them, you don't know what they've been through. So you shut it."

Psi just held his hands up in mock-surrender though they could tell he was still very irritated.

Clara shook her head at him and turned to look at the Time Lords, when something in an alcove just by the vault door caught her eye, a set of controls…with another case sitting there.

"Doctor?" she called, walking over to it, "Professor, look at this."

The Time Lords walked over, the Doctor picking up the case and examining it, "Another gift from the Architect. Shall we unwrap it?" he opened it, revealing a card and a small handheld device.

Psi reached out to take the device, seeing a small port on the side of it. He connected a wire to one of his chips and plugged it in, wincing as a download happened, before shaking his head and sliding further into the alcove, pointing at the computers, the Professor pulling out the card, 'TECH 251,' 'ORG 339,' and 'PV' written on it.

"Right," Psi called, "The system looks like it's time-delayed. There are twenty four lock codes I need to break…"

Clara looked down the hall as she heard a growling and shuffling that sounded very much like the Teller, "It's coming," she breathed, looking at the three of them, her eyes wide, "We're trapped."

"Psi, how long?" the Doctor turned to the man.

"As long as it takes…"

"I can cut it down in half if I help," the Professor offered, sliding into the alcove, but having to turn to her side to do it, her stomach making it a bit difficult.

"Professor…" the Doctor shook his head, "It's locked on to one of our thought trails. We have to split up…minimize the brain signals."

"And I proved I can blank my thoughts enough," the Professor reminded him, "Psi can erase his guilt. You and Clara are the only ones it would target."

The Doctor sighed, realizing that was true, "Right, Clara, with me," he took her hand, "We're going to distract it, lead it away…"

"Buy them some time?" Clara finished, not quite comfortable about it but knowing it was necessary to get them out of there.

"Time to run," Psi muttered to them, hearing the roar of the Teller getting closer.

The Doctor and Clara nodded, the Doctor leaning in, half shoving Psi down to move over him and kiss the Professor quickly before they ran off, leaving the two to get to work.

Psi scoffed a moment, just after the Professor broke through the first two locks.

"What?" she asked, not even looking at him as she worked on the rest, he was taking the evens, her the odds.

"Nothing just…you and him?" Psi nodded towards the hall, "How do you deal with the 'personal detachment?'"

The Professor scoffed this time, "You've yet to understand just how detached I can get," she murmured, breaking through two more locks, "You're slacking," she nudged him, making him focus on the locks again.

Psi shook his head but got back to work, the two of them working quickly, half-listening for the Teller or any signs of trouble…

When Clara screamed.

Psi looked at the Professor, halfway through the last lock, having picked up a few of his when she'd finished hers, and held out his hand, silently, a determined look on his face. She shook her head but he held his hand up more, "It's MY choice."

The Professor swallowed but pulled a Shredder out of her pocket and handed it to him, giving him a small salute as he nodded and ran off to help Clara, letting her finish.

"Vault locks opening," she heard a moment later, "Vault locks opening. 24, 23, 22, 21, 20, 19, 18, 17…"

"Come on!" she looked up, Psi's voice sounding louder than the countdown, "Come and find me! Every thief and villain in one big cocktail. I am so guilty! Every famous burglar in history is hiding in this bank right now in one body. Come and feast! Clara? For what it's worth, and it might not be worth much, when your whole life flashes in front of you, you see people you love and people missing you. Well, I see no one."

The Professor wiggled her way out of the alcove just as Psi screamed and the Teller roared, the Doctor and Clara dashing around the corner and heading for her and the vault just as it finished its countdown.

"3, 2, 1…failed," it announced.

"What?!" the Professor looked over at the door, "You've got to be kidding me," she huffed.

"Vault unlocking failed."

"No," Clara hurried to the door and tried to turn the wheel on the front of it, but it wouldn't budge, "It's not opening. Psi. He died for nothing."

The Doctor frowned and soniced the alcove, looking at the readings, "There's another seal still in place," he sighed.

The Professor shook her head, "No, I broke through all the locks with Psi."

"An atomic seal," he informed, "Didn't register on his download. And unbreakable, even for you."

"But the Architect would know that," the Professor frowned, "He wouldn't bring us all this way for it to not work!"

"And get two people killed," Clara added.

"Exactly," the Doctor agreed, "There must be some logic…"

"Some logic?"

"Come on, Architect," the Doctor looked around, "What else have you got?"

The Professor looked up as the sound of thunder rolling above them sounded, "A solar storm…" she murmured, recognizing the sound of it, "Oh of course! The storm's tripping the system. That's what he's got, a storm!"

"How would he know when a storm would hit?" Clara shook her head.

"Of course!" the Doctor laughed, catching on as the Professor pointed at him, "Stupid, stupid Doctor. Of course, of course!"

"Of course, what?!" Clara huffed.

"Whoever planned all this, Clara," the Professor turned to her, "They're in the future."

"This isn't just a bank heist, it's a time travel heist," the Doctor agreed.

"We've been sent back in time to the exact moment of the storm, to be in exactly the right place when it hits."

"Because that's the only time the bank is vulnerable."

Another sound of thunder struck, the lights flickering, as the computer called out once more, "Vault unlocked," and the door swung open.

The Doctor grinned at that, "The bank is now open," he took the Professor's hand, the two of them walking in with Clara, "Come on."

The room was enormous, golden in color, lined with row after row after row of safety deposit boxes that went up quite a few feet as well.

"It also explains why we're not here in the TARDIS," the Professor remarked.

"Sorry, what?" Clara shook her head, coming out of her shock from the sheer size of the room.

"The solar disruption would have made navigation impossible."

"The one time the bank is vulnerable is the one time we can't just land," the Doctor mused at the poetry of that.

"Right," the Professor nodded, "Time to find these then," she held up the card she'd taken, "Tech 251."

"Right, find it," the Doctor called to Clara as they split up, each taking a row and walking along them, searching the different labels and sections, till they finally came to the right category.

"Tech!" Clara called, the Time Lord gathering around her as they searched for 251, finding it, thankfully, within arm's reach of the Doctor who opened it without needing a key, pulling out a small case and popping it open to see a small syringe inside, but rather fat for a hypodermic, with a glowing blue substance in it.

"What do you make of this?" the Doctor handed it to the Professor.

"Neophyte circuit," she nodded, twisting it, making the blue glow brighter before dimming it.

The Doctor nodded, he'd only ever seen something like that once before, "It can reboot any system, replace any lost data."

"Psi," Clara realized, "That's what he came for, his reward."

"So what did Saibra come for?"

"ORG 339," the Professor read off the card next, and they were off trying to find that row as well.

This time it was on Clara's level, the woman pulling out another small case and cracking it open, a bottle of some sort stashed away inside it.

"Gene suppressant," the Professor nodded.

"She wanted to be normal," Clara remarked.

"Everyone has a weakness," the Doctor shrugged, "So the big question is this. What did we come for?" the Doctor looked at the Professor.

"I dunno," she could only shake her head, "My weakness has been right beside me the whole time."

"Mine too," the Doctor smiled at her for that.

"Thanks, I feel so loved," Clara deadpanned, before laughing, "Joking," she reassured them when they looked at her, the Professor opening her mouth to apologize though the Doctor seemed largely unapologetic. So Clara just reached out and tapped the paper in the Professor's hand, "PV."

"Private vault," the Professor stated.

"Karabraxos's own fortune?" the Doctor guessed, though even as he said it it didn't seem quite right, what would THEY need with fortune? He shook his head, "Right then, come on…"

He turned and moved to walk around the corner.

"No, Doctor, wait!" the Professor shouted, hearing a shuffling on the other side of it.

But it was too late, the Doctor had walked right into the Teller.

~8~

The trio was led into a very pristine office on the top floor of the bank, two heavily armored guards behind them, one with their helmet on, the other just staring blankly ahead as they brought the Time Lords and Clara to their superior, trying to ignore the Teller standing off to the side.

"Intruders are most welcome," the ginger woman smiled at them, "They remind us that the bank is impregnable. It's good for morale to have a few of you scattered about the place, preferably on view," she gestured at a monitor in the wall, the screen broken up to show them quite a few of the skull-caved victims of the Teller sitting in their cells, manacled, "Are you ready for your close-up?" she smirked, seeing how the Doctor's expression hardened and how he stepped closer to the pregnant woman beside him, "If you're thinking of ways to escape," she added, her gaze flickering to the Professor as she glanced around the room, "The Teller will know before you've even made a move. You'll never be bothered by all that thinking again."

"I'm finding myself less and less bothered by that at the moment thanks," the Professor grumbled, absently putting a hand on her stomach.

"Your…Teller," the Doctor eyed it, "Useful species."

"Last of its kind, and we've signed an exclusive deal," the woman informed them.

"Must be noisy inside its head," the Doctor remarked.

"Painful to listen to so much chatter," the Professor agreed, still not looking at the Teller but the room, "So many secrets."

"Must drive it wild."

She did look at the woman when she spoke next though, "How do you force it to obey?"

There were…an infinite number of methods. Torture, bribery, mind control/altering, conditioning, on top of quite a few others. The more they knew about it, the more they could work out a way to get the Teller on their side.

"Oh, everything has a price tag," the woman sighed, "I think you'll find," she looked up as a sound of thunder sounded above them, "The storm's getting worse. The customers are leaving. Director Karabraxos will be concerned. Our jobs will be on the line."

"You're scared," the Professor noted, recognizing the expression on the woman's face.

"Oh, I'm terrified," the woman didn't even try to hide that fact, "I have the disadvantage of knowing Karabraxos personally."

"If you don't like your boss, why stay?" the Doctor shook his head.

"My face fits," the woman shrugged, standing up from her desk, "Now if you'll excuse me, I must take the Teller to its hibernation. You two," she looked at the guards, "Dispose of our guests," she waved at the trio before she turned through a set of doors, the Teller following obediently behind her, its head bowed.

The guards waited till the doors had shut behind the woman before turning to the trio.

The Doctor immediately pulled the Professor back, managing to grab Clara as well and back them up, "Doctor…" the Professor began.

But the Doctor was holding up his hands to the soldiers, "Don't do this," he pleaded with them, "I'm having a very bad day, and I do not want to be executed. I'd rather not miss my child being born so if you could not execute the father or mother…"

"You're wrong," the un-helmeted guard spoke.

"Wrong?" the Doctor frowned.

"It's not that bad a day. And you're being very slow."

The Doctor shook his head, not catching on, not even when the two men stepped up and began to undo their restraints, "Why are you undoing our handcuffs?"

"Because they're not actual guards," the Professor sighed, "It's Saibra and Psi."

The guard grinned and morphed into Saibra as the second guard pulled off his helmet to reveal Psi.

"What?" the Doctor gaped at them.

"How'd you now?" Psi looked at the Professor.

"She uses her eyes," Clara answered for her, "Notices everything. Even when you don't want her to notice," Clara moved forward and hugged Psi, knowing Saibra was probably not very fond of hugging given her circumstances.

"He had the same posture and build as Psi," the Professor explained, "And Saibra was very careful NOT to be the one cuffing us but holding the gun at us."

"It looked like death," Psi held up the small shredder to the Doctor, "It was actually a teleporter. Good, eh?" he laughed, "You think we're dead, so the Teller thinks we're dead, and we play the creature at his own mind games."

"That is…clever," the Professor nodded.

"Too clever," the Doctor agreed, shaking his head at the two before him.

"There's an escape ship in orbit," Psi added, "Takes you right there. Oh, and there's this big blue box. Is that yours?"

"Really VERY clever," the Doctor repeated, and there was only one person he knew that was that clever, besides himself…

"Good to have you back," the Professor looked at the two of them, "You ready to resume the mission?" she reached over and pulled the items they'd gotten from the bank out of the Doctor's pocket, "Gene suppressant," she handed the small bottle to Saibra, "Antidote for your condition. And the memory giver," she held up the injector to Psi, "All your yesterdays."

"Job done," the Doctor murmured, "Paid in full. Clever old Architect. Clever, clever Architect…" he eyed the Professor closely.

"Very clever," Saibra agreed.

The Doctor eyed the Professor a moment longer before shaking his head, as though he were being ridiculous, "I still hate him."

And that was why. No matter what, he'd never be able to hate the Professor. She couldn't be the architect, it just wasn't possible.

"Me too," Saibra nodded.

Psi stuck the injector into his pocket and looked at the trio, "How were you paid?"

"We don't know," the Professor admitted.

"There's something in the private vault," the Doctor agreed, all of them starting to grin as they realized they could get there now, invisible to the system now that the two were 'dead' and the three of them were being 'dealt with' by the guards.

~8~

The small group quickly made their way back down to the lowest levels of the bank, Psi leading the way as he'd gotten more time to sort through the schematics and knew where the private vault was located.

"What's that?" the Doctor frowned as they approached the Private Vault, spotting a sort of odd pipe heading into it.

"Supply line," Psi explained, "It's the only oxygen down to the private vault. There's another one for water, for basic life support."

"What, for a private vault?" Clara frowned at that, not sure why anyone would need that in a private vault.

"Seems like someone likes to hang out with their wealth," the Professor remarked as they approached a grate on the side of it.

They all looked at each other before the Doctor reached out and soniced the grate off, allowing them in. It was…not what they were expecting it to be. It wasn't designed like a vault at all but more a rather ornate room. There was carpeting and high ceilings, carved wood beams, designer curtains on the wall, the lights dimmed to a cozy setting, even a speaker system that was playing 'Overture To The Abduction From The Seraglio' by Mozart. The room was filled, literally filled with different statuary on podiums, vases and other artifacts, King Tut's coffin off to the side and just so many other treasures from all over Earth.

"Director Karabraxos?" the Doctor slowly approached a wooden desk with a very high-backed chair behind it, its back to them, "Excuse us, but we've come to rob you. So if you want to put your hands above your head, or…"

The chair spun around, cutting him off, revealing it to be the ginger woman from the bank, the same one that they'd met in the top office, sitting there in it. Her hands were raised in a mocking gesture as the music cut off.

"Or?" she smirked, "You didn't bring any weapons. That's a bit of an oversight…"

The Professor just pulled out her blaster and held it up, "Don't assume anything."

The woman's eyes narrowed before she grinned, "But now it seems I have a reason to do this," she leaned over and pushed a button on her desk, "Security, Karabraxos here."

"You're Karabraxos?" the Doctor stared at her.

"One moment," the woman held up a finger at him, a monitor flickering to life to reveal…herself, but dressed differently, sitting in the top office, another woman with her face.

"Director Karabraxos, is there a problem?" the other woman inquired.

"Intruders in the private vault. Send me the Teller. I want to find out how they got in, and then I want to wipe their memories."

"She's a clone," the Professor nodded, realizing that now, realizing why that woman was in charge of the bank while Karabraxos sat there, if you want something done right you have to do it yourself.

It seemed Karabraxos had taken that a bit to the extreme.

"It's the only way to control my own security," Karabraxos sighed, "I have a clone in every facility. Get on it right away," she ordered to her clone.

"Yes, of course," the clone nodded.

"And then hand in your credentials. You're fired, with immediate effect."

"But please, I've been in your service…"

"Ever since the last one let me down and I was forced to kill it," Karabraxos rolled her eyes, "I can't quite believe that you're putting me through this again," she huffed and cut the transmission off, sitting back in her chair as though frustrated and exasperated, "My clone. And yet she doesn't even protest. Pale imitation, really. Ha! I should sue."

"You're killing her?" Clara gaped at her, "You just said…"

"Fired?" she laughed, "I put all of the used clones into the incinerator. Can't have too many of moi scattered around."

"Sorry, you don't get on with your own clone?" Psi eyed the woman.

"Very telling isn't it?" the Professor remarked.

"She hates her own clones," the Doctor corrected, "She burns her own clones. Frankly, you're a career break for the right therapist…" and then his eyes widened as a thought hit him, "Shut up. Everybody just…just shut up."

"And what is this display now?" Karabraxos scoffed, "As amusing as you are?"

"Shut up!" the Doctor snapped at her, "Just shut up, shut up, shut up, shutitty up up up. What…what did she say?" the Doctor turned to the Professor pointing at her, "Saibra, what did she say about looking with our own eyes?"

"Could you trust someone who looked back at you out of your own eyes," the Professor recited, pleased she could at least recall that.

The Doctor nodded and snapped his finger at that, "I know one thing about the Architect. What is it that I know about the Architect? I know one thing. Something that I've known from the very start…"

"What?" Clara asked.

"He hates him," the Professor answered, he'd said it enough times.

"I do," he nodded, "I hate him. He's overbearing, he's manipulative, he likes to think that he's very clever. I hate him! Don't you see?" he looked at the others, "I hate the Architect."

"Oh…" the Professor frowned at that, realizing what he meant.

"You've got it?" the Doctor pointed at the Professor.

"How on earth did you work that out before me?" she looked at him, "You're even older than I am now!"

The Doctor just laughed and hurried back to her, "You still worked it out before the pudding-brains."

"You said you'd stop making me want pudding," she poked him lightly in the chest.

"I'll get you some in a minute," he crossed his hearts.

"What in the name of sanity is going in this room now?" Karabraxos shook her head at them, the two having gone from ranting about some Architect to talking about pudding.

The Doctor scoffed at that, "We're getting sanity judgment from the self-burner."

"She's never babysitting our child," she warned him playfully, making him grin.

He spun around, striding up to Karabraxos's desk, "Do you mind if I borrow a little bit of paper?"

"And what are you doing now?" the woman huffed as he grabbed one off her desk without waiting for a reply.

"I'm giving you our telephone number."

"Why?"

He just folded the paper over and wrote a message, sliding it to her, "Well, we think you might like to call us someday," he tapped the message 'We are Time Travelers' before he stepped back, looking up as the thunder sounded again, the lights flickering more, the building actually starting to rattle, "Oh, that was a big one, wasn't it?"

"You see…we think that your bank is about to close for good, Karabraxos," the Professor added, "And if we were you, we'd get going."

"Don't mind us," the Doctor gestured for her to go, "We'll just stay here and burn."

Karabraxos's lips pursed at that, but alarms started to go off, different alarms than before and she knew it was serious, she knew this solar storm was going to be the worst ever so she stood and made her way over t a small bag and began to pack.

"Hard to know what to take, isn't it?" the Professor called, knowing the Doctor understood the feeling all too well, "The greatest treasures of the universe in just one suitcase."

The Doctor looked down seeing that the Professor had begun to fiddle with the bracelet she always wore in every incarnation, one that he'd gotten her oh so long ago and finally was able to return to her. She never took it off, no matter what and no matter what body she found herself in, she always wore it. He remembered her story of the bracelet. She'd had it on her when she'd been taken for training, she'd been the most careful she'd ever been to make sure it wasn't taken from her, hiding it, keeping it safe, till she gave it to him in the middle of the War as a promise to find him again. It was her most treasured possession. If she had to pick one thing in the whole world (besides him) to save, a room full of treasures, she'd pick that bracelet.

It was more important to her than her blaster…and that was saying something.

"Um, so what's the plan?" Clara whispered to them as the building shook, "Is there a plan?"

"We can use the shredders and get us back to the ship," Saibra offered.

"They're not shredders," the Professor corrected, "They're teleports," she pulled one out, "Very…interesting that I thought they were shredders. Someone must be very clever to be able to disguise them that well that even I would think they were Shredders instead," she eyed the device a moment, "But that's actually not the most interesting thing about them."

"So what is?"

"There were seven of them," the Professor looked at them, "And five of us."

"Hey!" the Doctor called as Karabraxos lifted her bag, tucking a vase under her arm, as she headed to the doors of what was likely an escape pod of sorts, "Give us a call me some time."

The woman just sneered at him, "You'll be dead."

"Yeah, you'll be old," the Doctor shrugged, "We'd all get on famously."

"Are you calling me old again?" the Professor looked at the Doctor.

He just laughed and kissed her temple, focusing on Karabraxos once more, "You'll be old and full of regret for the things that you can't change," he warned her, making the 'call us' gesture as the doors shut.

"Ok what the hell is going on?!" Psi rounded on them.

Clara frowned, suspicious, "Are you remembering?"

"Deducting," the Professor corrected, "We…have an idea of why we're here now."

"What? What is it?"

"We're not sure yet,' the Doctor murmured, "We need our memory back. And I think there's only one way to do that…" he squeezed the Professor's hand and slowly stepped away from her, heading to the main door of the vault.

"Which would be?" Clara called.

"Soup," he breathed just as the doors opened with a ding and the Teller stepped inside the room, "Hello, big man," he held his hand back at the Professor, signaling her to NOT interfere, "Peckish?"

"Doctor!" Clara tried to leap forward and pull him back as the Teller trapped the Doctor in its mental grasp, but the Professor grabbed her and pulled her back.

"No, you have to let him do this," the Professor squeezed Clara tightly, not wanting to watch this, knowing it would be more painful than deadly for the Doctor, but not about to look away incase something went wrong with his plan…as often seemed to happen.

"Let it take me," the Doctor groaned as he fell to his knees in pain, the veins in his neck bulging from the strain, "Let it read me. It's the only way."

"It will kill you!" Clara struggled.

"No, no it won't," the Professor shook her head, it had better not.

The Doctor closed his eyes, the Teller's eyes drawing closer to each other as it sent out pulses at the Doctor's mine, "That's it, that's it," he nodded, "There are so many memories in here. Feast on them. Tuck in. Big scarf, bow tie, bit embarrassing. What do you think of the new look? I was hoping for minimalism, but I think I came up with magician. In the last few days, there's been a block…" he tried to focus again, thinking about his new self made him think of the Professor's new self, of their child, made him focus because if they weren't quick the solar storm was going to kill them all, "Can you see the block? Tell me why we're here. Show me why we're here. Show me!"

He gasped, his eyes flying open as memories flashed through his mind…

~8~

"It's just a phone, Clara," the Doctor reached in and grabbed it, "Nothing happens when you answer the phone," and put the receiver to his ear.

"Doctor?" a woman responded on the other end, very old it sounded, very weak, likely very near her end.

The Doctor frowned at that, nodding the Professor over to him and holding the phone between their ear to listen, "Hello?" he called.

"You gave me this number," the woman told them, "My name is Madame Karabraxos. I was once the wealthiest person in the Universe. I need your assistance. I'm dying, with…many, many regrets. But one, perhaps, you and your wife may be able to help me with."

The Doctor and Professor looked at each other for that, for the woman's knowledge of her, before they listened intently to what the woman requested before the Professor put the phone back on its receiver.

"It's a little detour," the Doctor turned to Clara, grabbing her hand and tugging her to the TARDIS, "It's a…it's a job, we've got to do it for someone. Come on."

"Please, Clara," the Professor looked at her.

Clara sighed but nodded, following them into the TARDIS. The Professor was very aware that she had a date and she knew the woman wouldn't risk asking her to go with them if it wasn't important and…she had to trust that the Professor, at least, would get her back to the right time and place for her date.

What are we doing?" she asked as the Doctor shut the doors behind her.

"We need to rob a bank," the Professor explained, moving to the monitor to look up information about it.

"What?" Clara blinked.

"We're going to need worms," the Doctor muttered, moving to the console and sending them off.

~8~

The Professor scrolled through faces and biographies on the monitor, a brownie in her hand with ketchup on it, munching on it and brushing the crumbs away as she searched for the people they'd need to do it. She had a plan in mind for just how to get into the bank, but she'd need some rather specific individuals to help. She smiled, spotting an augmented human named Psi, a mutant human with 'cloning' abilities named Saibra, and another man with graying hair, a Mr. Porrima that was just an everyday ordinary person, but one that was running for some sort of office and would be at a meet-and-greet very soon. Lots of hands would be shaken, he wouldn't think anything of if a few skin cells happened to be collected.

~8~

The Doctor attended the meet-and-greet, shaking hands with the man, Porrima, moving his hand behind his back and shaking the skincells onto a receptacle.

~8~

"The Bank of Karabraxos has never been breached," the Professor stood before Saibra and Psi, explaining the situation, making sure that they both knew what it would mean to get into this, "But if you help us, we can help you too. I've got a plan all worked out…"

~8~

Saibra, disguised as Porrima, entered the bank and made her way over to a deposit booth, placing a case inside it.

~8~

"Architect," the Doctor spoke into a microphone in the TARDIS console, the Professor tapping a few buttons to make it repeat back.

"Architect," it called, but it was the same voice.

"Architect," he tried again.

"Architect," too high, too computerized.

"Architect."

"Architect," the Professor smiled as it was just right, deep enough that not even she would be able to tell it was him. She nodded at the Doctor and he began his message.

"You will rob the Bank of Karabraxos…"

~8~

The Professor pulled off a hood from her head, as she placed a case in the lower levels of the Bank, looking up when the Doctor joined her, wearing a similar hood as well, holding out a hand for her to take before they headed back to where they'd set the TARDIS down.

~8~

The five bank robbers sat around a table, looking at each other and the four worms sitting on the table. Psi pulled a chip out of his head, the memory cell, and looked at the others nodding, before he activated the deletion and stuck it back in.

Clara and Saibra reached out to grab their worms as the Time Lords glanced at each other, taking each other's hands before doing the same.

~8~

The Doctor gasped as the Teller released him and he spun on his knees as the Professor moved onto hers beside him, taking his head in her hands, looking him over, her mind searching his to make sure he hadn't been harmed, but seeing the memories that had been blocked and erased.

"Did you see why we came?" he whispered to her, "Why we're here?"

She nodded, "We had to delete our own memories, otherwise the Teller would have known…"

"And then Karabraxos would have known," he agreed.

"Because the Teller's mentally linked to her."

The Doctor looked over at the Teller, "But she's gone now," he told the creature, "They've all gone. They have no power over you now."

The Professor smiled, remembering the rest of the conversation that Karabraxos herself had had with them, remembering exactly what pricetag the Teller had to do as the woman wanted, and looked at it too, "You can do exactly what you want to do now."

"Exactly what you've always wanted to do," the Doctor gestured the creature on towards a safe in the back.

The Teller turned to it, stepping over as the lock began to move.

"It knows the combination!" Psi realized that the Teller was the one opening it.

"Of course it does."

"It was linked to Karabraxos," the Professor explained to them, remembering that they couldn't see the memories that the Doctor had shown her.

"What exactly are we doing here?" Clara asked them as the Professor helped the Doctor to his feet, "That thing killed people!"

"Clara, right now would be a very nice time to NOT have to compare my body count to the Teller's," the Professor reminded her lightly, her hand on her stomach, "To say that would mean you wouldn't help me because of what I've done too."

She really…she was trying not to think about that, to not think about what she'd been like during the war. She honestly had no idea what was, but the thought of who she'd been during the war, of all she'd done made her physically ill now. She didn't know if it was because she had life growing inside of her that the thought of all the life she'd taken just made her doubly upset. But it really caused a physical reaction in her, it made her hearts race and her stomach turn (and not because of the baby), and she got light-headed and she felt like she was being doused with ice water and…

'Kata,' the Doctor's voice cut through her thoughts and she realized she'd gone very still and she really had started shaking. She could see her reflection had paled considerably and the Doctor had moved his arm around her without her even noticing. He leaned in, resting his forehead to her temple, 'Breathe…'

She took a deep breath, putting her hand on his arm and trying to calm herself, tried to move her thoughts to something else, something nicer…she could see the safe door starting to open and smiled, focusing on that instead, "What would you do to protect everything you loved?" she asked Clara.

They watched as the safe doors opened, to reveal another creature just like the Teller, sitting on the floor, trapped in an orange suit and straightjacket as well, crying out when it saw the Teller standing there before it.

"There she is," the Doctor whispered in the Professor's ear, shifting slightly so that he was behind her, his arms wrapped around her, one hand resting on her stomach.

"Not the last of its species," the Professor nodded, resting her arms over his, turning her head to look up at the Doctor, "The last two."

Psi hurried forward with Clara to start unchaining the female Teller, "It's ok, it's ok," the man reassured the creature, "She's alright," he told the Teller.

"Exit strategy," Saibra realized, "We've got seven shredders."

"Exactly," the Professor nodded, "This wasn't a bank heist. It never was. It was rescue mission for a whole species."

"Flesh and blood," the Doctor nodded, "The last currency," he looked up as the lights flickered, signaling the solar storm was coming, "Time to go home," he looked at the Teller, holding up one of the shredders to him, "What do you think of that, big man?"

The Teller just let out a roar of joy.

~8~

The Doctor, Professor, and Clara stood at the top of a hill on what was likely one of the most peaceful and quiet planets they had ever visited, watching as the two other aliens walked off, side-by-side, into the beauty of the nature around them, freed of the restraints Karabraxos had forced on them.

"So much mental traffic in the universe," the Doctor murmured.

"Solitude is the only peace," the Professor agreed, thinking about how she could quiet her thoughts like that with effort, it was much easier there, a small little planet that the two could be alone on.

'Maybe we should do that,' the Doctor murmured in her mind as he took her hand.

'Do what?'

'Find a small little planet where we can be alone on.'

The Professor gave him a smile for that, 'I think we already have that,' she nodded back at the TARDIS sitting behind them.

He squeezed her hand and turned, his other hand moving to Clara's shoulder as the three of them walked back to the box.

They still had passengers to see to.

~8~

The Doctor smiled as he watched the Professor sit on the armchair, a box of Chinese food in takeout containers in her hand, chopsticks in her other hand, eating noodles out of it. There was an empty carton of broccoli sitting on the floor beside her and she was still piling the food in, not that he would say it quite like that. She'd had a craving just after they'd left the bank and he'd stopped the TARDIS instantly, much to the shock of Psi and Saibra, to get some, all of them ending up taking part in the meal as well and having a good old laugh about the Leaning Tower of Pisa, him trying to pass it off like he'd had nothing to do with the lean to it, but the Professor called him out on it.

He looked over as Psi made his way up to him, "If you ever need help with another bank heist," the man offered, shaking the Doctor's hand, before turning to hug Clara as she stood nearby. He didn't go near the Professor, having learned very quickly not to touch the Doctor's Bonded/Wife, and gave her a small salute which she returned with her chopstick, "If it's YOU that made the plan," he did wink at the Professor for it though.

The Doctor just made the 'phone us' sign to Psi as the man stepped out of the doors, the Doctor pulling the levers and knobs of the console a moment later to get Saibra home to her time as well.

"Good?" the Professor called over to the Doctor as the TARDIS thumped to a landing, not really wanting to get up and go check, she was actually quite comfortable at the moment and the armchair smelled like the Doctor and she just really didn't want to have to get up just to make sure he hadn't landed them in a black hole.

"Yes," he nodded.

"We didn't land in the middle of a horde of Swoggle-Hons hunting the Whipple-Scrumpets?"

"That only happened once!"

The Professor laughed, "But you're sure…"

He sighed, "Yes, I'm sure that Saibra's home now."

Saibra chuckled at them, not having a clue what they were talking about but heading over to the Doctor and hugging him, seeing Clara head up to the Professor and sit beside her, snagging a few lingering pieces of broccoli from the leftover carton, "See?" she smiled as she pulled away, able to touch him without her gloves on, having pressed her cheek to his but still appeared to be herself, her own face, "I don't have your face now."

"My face is rubbish anyway," he waved it off, "The Professor's though…"

"Oh, shut up," the woman cut in, knowing how he could get when he started off on his wife, she turned and gave the two women a wave, before making her way to the doors and stepping out.

"One more left," the Doctor pointed at Clara before moving around the console, putting in coordinates and commands, the Professor forcing herself to get up this time and really double check his work.

"7:12," she nodded, seeing the readings on the monitor, "Local time…" she took a bite of her noodles.

"As promised," the Doctor added.

The Professor swallowed and nodded Clara towards the doors, "Go and enjoy yourself."

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do!" the Doctor called as Clara hurried for the doors.

She stopped short and looked back at him, "You really want to use THAT as a standard?" she gave them a pointed look, before gesturing at her stomach.

"We're married!" the Professor defended.

"I'm not taking 900 years to get married," Clara laughed, reminding them of how they'd apparently loved each other since they were children but hadn't confessed it till about 900 years later.

"But please DO take 300 to have a child," the Professor mock-pleaded.

Clara shook her head at that, understanding the meaning behind her words, not to rush into anything, contrary to how the Doctor seemed to live his life, "You know," she eyed the Professor's carton, "I've just realized. I'm going out for another meal now."

"Don't worry," the Doctor waved it off, "Calories consumed on the TARDIS have no lasting effect."

"What?" she gaped, "Are you kidding?"

"If he were being serious, Clara, would I be this big?" the Professor pointed to her stomach.

"Right," Clara nodded, knowing that the Professor didn't leave the TARDIS every time she wanted to eat, they had a kitchen.

"It's a time machine, not a miracle worker," the Doctor waved her off, "Bye bye."

"See you," Clara waved back, "Don't rob any banks…"

"Don't rob any banks what?" the Professor smiled, hearing an end to the statement not given.

"Without me," she told them, as though it should be obvious.

"Of course we won't," the Professor laughed, "Need your help to keep an eye on this one," she nodded at the Doctor.

Clara nodded at that reasonable reason before she stepped out of the TARDIS.

"Robbing a bank," the Doctor sighed, leaning against the console, reaching out to turn the Professor slightly, placing his hand on her stomach, "Robbing a whole bank. What do you think of that baby?" he asked her stomach, "First birthday party?"

The Professor shook her head, "We're not robbing a bank with our baby for its birthday."

"Fine, fine," he nodded, though he was sure that the firm kick he'd felt against his palm meant that the baby agreed with him, "What about a small bank, on Earth?"

The Professor just shook her head, "We are not inspiring another Bonnie and Clyde."

"That only happened once!" he huffed, before growing serious, "What do you think though," he looked at her.

"About what?"

"The Architect," he began, "The Strategist. Fitting titles," he smiled, "Maybe this one will be one of them," he rubbed her stomach.

"Or the Tutor or Physician," she joked, thinking about some other titles they'd had.

"The Caretaker or the Housekeeper!"

"The Warrior or the Soldier," she smiled more sadly at those, before looking up at him, "Why did you let me take the lead so much?" she asked him, something about it niggling the back of her mind, "The others seemed to think you were in charge, but you kept insisting I was."

"Besides the fact that you ARE," he shifted closer to her, "Happy wife, happy life and all that…" she rolled her eyes at that, "I know how you feel like everything about your body is going out of control," he shrugged, "I wanted to give you a change to be IN control again. Be the one calling the shots, making decisions."

She leaned in, resting her head to his, "You make me happy," she whispered, "I don't…" she sighed, "I don't need control to be happy," even as she said it, she knew that it wasn't a full truth, she WAS a bit upset with how her body kept changing faster than she could keep up, but…she was trying to remind herself that it was changing for a GOOD reason instead of a bad one, she wasn't being turned into a soldier again…she was…evolving into a mother, and that was good, "I just need you."

He smiled at that.

"You…and pudding."

He laughed, "As you wish," he turned to lead her back to the stairs, glad he'd had the foresight to stock up on quite a few different sorts of puddings after the last time she got a craving for them. It was probably excessive, more pudding than she'd be able to eat throughout her entire pregnancy but…it made her happy.

And he'd do anything to keep her happy.

A/N: So, apparently, I didn't actually sleep through my alarm yesterday, I did, in fact, wake up, turn it off...and then fell back asleep :( And, because I turned it off-off on my phone, it didn't go of this morning, but my normal one for work did :( I'm on my lunch break now, but I wanted to get the chapter up as soon as I could :)

I hope you liked how the Professor was sort of the mastermind behind the heist, but that the Doctor was the face of it :) I feel like he'd be very aware of how his wife feels about her changing body and not having control of it like normal and he'd want to do something to help her feel more in control, letting her be in control of the heist would help :) I have no idea what species the Teller is, just made up a name :)

I have to say, I really am SO excited for tomorrow's chapter ^-^

Some notes on reviews...

I can say that I have an AU planned where we'll see what would happen if Mac had been there in Series 1 with the Slitheen and had started to travel with the Doctor then ;) As for Angel, I can't quite see her being with those Daleks, the one she grabbed onto was the one from Van Statten's so I'm not sure how she'd end up with the other Daleks, unless she decided to stay on Satellite 5 when they'd helped Cathica but I can't quite see her leaving the Doctor lol :)

I was very lost during the actual episode :/ I wasn't sure if it was meant to actually BE something hiding that we don't/can't/shouldn't see, or if it was just the Doctor making a big thing of it. I feel like it was meant to be something, but then it ended up coming across more to force the Clara/Danny relationship and lost what the episode was meant to be about. I still have no idea what was really going on in Listen lol :)

The thing in the blanket was creepy :) I'm going to try and take it as different things in the stories. Here it was a kid playing a joke on Rupert, in others it'll be something else :) I don't think you're crazy :) I'm glad you like the twins so much ^-^

I remember Alphie ;) You never know though, what if Craig and Sophie decided to leave the UK (because the Doctor keeps showing up there) and moved to America for peace? ;) Alphie would grow up with an American accent then ;) (or he might have watched too much American TV shows ;))

I love how time can be rewritten :) I think it just complicated matters because...if the Time Tunnel never exists, Clara never entered it, she was never torn apart, and she couldn't have saved him from the Asylum or the Great Intelligence or other things. I suppose it could be explained that, if the Time Tunnel never existed then the Great Intelligence would have no need to go to it and corrupt the time line so there wouldn't be as much danger in the past and the Doctor could face it without Clara. It could explain that the Master/Missy gave Clara the number because, by then, the time tunnel was gone and he still needed Clara to be travelling with the Doctor and set it up :) There's a lot of loopholes and confusion and theories and time being rewritten makes it harder to keep track lol :)