"What are we gonna do?" Donna whispered as she and the Doctor walked down the hall, followed by the four agents.

"I'm not exactly sure yet but apparently it has something to do with a forensic scientist," The Doctor was looking around, searching for any clues that could give them a hint of what they were facing. He then turned around, walking backwards to face the four Agents, "Agent…. gah. What's your name?"

The four of them looked between each other, confused.

"The old, scary one," The Doctor explained, pointing.

Gibbs, unamused, answered dully, "Special Agent Jethro Gibbs."

"Right, Jethro," The Doctor started, Gibbs rolling his eyes, "Did your scientist, the one who couldn't remember anything… did she say anything odd or… I don't know, sudden?"

Gibbs continued to stare, "All she said was 'I have to go.'"

The Doctor paused for second then shrugged, turning back around to face the front, "Not exactly something strange to say after you've had a fright."

"I would agree with you," Gibbs continued, "But when I asked her where she needed to go… she told me she didn't know why she had said it."

The Doctor frowned, making a random left, "And this scientist… where's her lab?"

"Right down this hall, make a right first chance you get." Gibbs answered, following the Doctor around the bend.

Less than a minute later, the six of them had crossed the threshold into the lab. Shards of glass still littered the floor but from what Gibbs could tell, most of it had been swept up.

"Abs?" Gibbs called into the silent room, looking around warily. No one answered and for the longest time, everyone stood like statues, waiting for even the smallest of noises.

"It's too quiet," Gibbs stated worriedly, pulling his gun from it's holster. His three other agents did the same and started their routine sweep around the lab. The Doctor and Donna continued to stand next to the doorway, searching with their eyes. The only time the silence was broken was the occasional yell of "Clear!"

"She's not here," Gibbs stated flatly, lowering his gun.

"Or anyone for that matter," DiNozzo added, continuing to look around.

"Do you think she was dragged out against her will?" Ziva asked, shoving her gun back in it's holster.

"There doesn't seem to be a sign of struggle…" McGee stated, "Well… except for this," he picked up a large piece of glass and then threw it in a nearby trash can.

"Ahh, but here's something that can help us out," The Doctor's voice sounded from across the room. Everyone turned to see him walking over to a table where a long brown coat was lying.

"How's that supposed to help us out?" Tony asked, giving the Doctor a strange look.

"Well…" the Doctor said, reaching into the inside coat pocket of the trench, "I can now track your friend's signal." The Doctor continued to shove his hand into the pocket, moving it around and looking for his sonic. He frowned. "That's strange," he said, pulling his hand out and searching the other pockets, "It's not there."

"What's not there," Gibbs asked, walking up the table as well.

"My sonic," The Doctor answered, checking the inside coat pocket again.

"Your what?"

"My sonic screwdriver…" The Doctor stood back from his coat looking worried, "It's gone."


Abby stepped out of her car, looking up at the large mansion that stood above her.

"A replica of the Wester Drumlins House from back in London," she thought to herself. However, she didn't know how she knew…

Abby walked up to the front gate that was locked. For some unknown reason, she reached into her pocket and grabbed out what looked like a blue tipped metal tube.

"A sonic screwdriver."

Abby sighed in fear. She didn't know what was going on with her. She didn't know how she knew all these things. She didn't even know why she was here!

Expertly, as if she had practiced it a hundred times, she held out the sonic to the lock and pressed a button, making the gates swing open almost instantly.

Replacing the metal tube back in her pocket, she continued through the gates.

The first thing she noticed about the old house was all the overgrown weeds.

Who would go through this much work just to make a replica of an old house?

Abby continued forward along an almost hidden dirt path that led all the way up to the front porch of the house.

Slowly, she climbed the rotting steps that creaked under her feet and pushed the front door open that was conveniently unlocked.

Just as Abby stepped inside, the door swung closed behind her, making her jump five feet. When she tried the knob, she realized that she was locked in. Abby slowly turned around to face the big entrance hall in front of her.

Everything was dark and shadowed but she could make out quite a few things. The rug underneath her feet was covered in dust and dirt and a large chandelier sat broken in pieces in the middle of the floor. In the back of the large room, a huge, tall winding staircase led up to the second floor. The ceiling wasn't flat like usual houses but curved up in a sort of dome.

Abby headed for the stairs, avoiding the chandelier.

When she looked up to the second story, she saw a statue there. A statue of an angel.

Every instinct in Abby's body was telling her to get out of that house, to run away as fast as she could, but something unknown was guiding her up these stairs.

The minute Abby took her first step onto the staircase, she realized with growing horror that she was a puppet. A puppet being pulled by invisible strings. Her own choices no longer mattered, but the choices of someone else.

Abby continued up the stairs, once again removing the sonic screwdriver from her pocket. She was heading straight for the angel who was covering her eyes with one arm, her other hand outstretched as if asking for something to be placed in it.

Abby reached the top step, stopping in her tracks. Holding the sonic by both ends, she lifted the it to angel and then carefully placed it in it's hand, backing back down the stairs slowly.

Then, she turned around to run to the door, as if the spell on her had been broken, but screamed as a second angel statue appeared right in front of her.

Then, she was gone.