Hello! I hope you're enjoying this! This is where the story starts to kick in!

The Doctor and Sasha gazed up at the staggering height of the CyberTech Tower. Suited and styled for business, the Doctor and Sasha prepared themselves, ready for corporate battle. A cold breath whispered through the air, frosted with a light drizzle out snowflakes.

"Ready?" the Doctor asked.

"Ready," Sasha confirmed. "In fact, leave this to me. I've got a plan."

"Oh, really?" the Doctor grinned, raising an eyebrow.

Sasha pulled a small glass bottle of perfume from her pocket, lightly spraying her chest and untying her hair. "Just a little flirting to get us in."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand."

"I didn't think you would."

The two of them pushed open the large glass doors to the reception, stepping into the ground floor of the Tower. The entire room was glittering. Decorated from ceiling to floor with polished slate tiles and glass ornaments, with smooth silver handrails and large screens, flashing with advertisements and logos. The Doctor led Sasha towards the reception desk – a long chain of booths across the side of the room, each seating a uniformed, half-sleeping CyberTech employee.

The Doctor led Sasha to the end booth, where a baggy-eyed, messily-shaven man slouched back in his chair, spinning a pen through his fingers in boredom. The perfect mark.

"Hello!" Sasha gleamed, stepping towards the reception, pushing out her hips as she walked. "Hey, can you help me?" she pleaded, puckering her lips and fluttering her eyelashes.

When the receptionist saw her, his yes bulged. He nearly toppled as he slipped up onto his seat, sucking in his stomach and fastening his tie. "Yes, of course, Miss. Anything you like," he flirted.

"I like the sound of that," Sasha smiled, resting her head in her palms at the reception desk, face-to-face with the employee, battering her eyes at him. "I'm here to see Miss Rubens. You couldn't tell me and my colleague where to find her?"

"Oh, erm, I'm going to have to know why you're here. Do you have an appointment?" he asked.

"I'm here from the Beverly Newman Entrepreneur Awards to award Miss Rubens with the Beverly Newman Outstanding Businesswoman Award. It's a very high achievement," Sasha insisted.

"Ok. The Beverly Newman Awards you say . . ." the receptionist thought, beginning ton type at his computer.

"I would really appreciate it if you would tell us quickly!" Sasha panicked. "We are on a very tight deadline."

"Nevertheless, I'm going to have to check. Miss Rubens is very strict as to who's allowed to see her," he insisted.

Sasha turning back to the Doctor, her face clearly showing her panic. "Oh, are you thirsty. I sure am. If only a handsome man would buy me a drink," Sasha flaunted, waving her hair in front of the receptionist. He stopped typing immediately, his face dumbstruck was surprise.

"Oh . . . Are you talking to me?" the receptionist smiled.

"Well, what with your eighty four inch waist . . . And . . . Hairy chin and . . . Dorito scent, who else would I be talking to?" Sasha flustered, doing her best.

"Oh . . . That certainly would be a great Christmas present," the receptionist smiled. "Well, I'll just give Miss Rubens a call to say that you're here, Miss . . .?"

"Miss Parker, and that won't be necessary. I'd like to keep the element of surprise, Mr . . .?"

"Mr Jacobs. But you can call me Matt. Or, Sexy," Mr Jacobs flirted, winking at Sasha.

Immediately, gall caught in Sasha's throat. "I think I'll stick with Matt," she grinned, hiding a protruding grimace.

"Miss Rubens is on the seventy first floor. Turn to your right and go down the corridor," Mr Jacobs instructed. "But us; the Rose and Crown, seven o'clock. If the night's still young, maybe we could go to that new hotel . . ."

"Thank you!" Sasha cried, interrupting Mr Jacobs to avoid the eventual disgust as she hurried to the Doctor and out of Mr Jacob's earshot. "That was horrible!" she whispered.

"Good work. You should do that as you job," the Doctor joked.

"I physically feel sick!" Sasha groaned. "You are never getting me to do that again!"

"You volunteered. I had nothing to do with this," the Doctor pointed out.

Sasha frowned at the Doctor. "Stop being so clever! Is he still looking at me?"

The Doctor focused his gaze just past Sasha, where Mr Jacobs sat at his chair, chewy his pen seductively as his eyes flowed over Sasha. "Yes," the Doctor replied, supressing taunting laugh.

Sasha groaned, slapping the Doctor in the chest. "Floor seventy one. Come on. Stay too long and I'll end up married."

The door to the elevator pinged, rolled open as the Doctor and Sasha stepped out onto the corridor. On the left, the corridor was long, splintered off to other offices; on the right, the corridor was short, ending at a single metal, alarmed door. Miss Rubens' office. The Doctor held up the sonic, disabling the security cameras that surveyed the corridor.

"Just the other side of that door," Sasha stuttered.

"Come on then," the Doctor instructed, taking Sasha by the arm and leading her down the corridor.

"What do we do?" Sasha asked. "What do we do when we go in? What do we ask?"

"We start subtle, then find out whether she's planning an evil scheme," the Doctor replied.

"What if she calls security?"

"Victory in defeat, Sasha."

"But what if we get arrested, or worse?"

"Then we'll make a plan from there."

"Sure . . . Ok . . . I could get used to life in a cell."

The Doctor and Sasha reached the door. Sasha tried the handle, but it immediately transpired that it was locked, supposedly to be unlocked by the small screen at the side.

"What do we do?" Sasha wondered, reaching out to touch it.

"Stop!" the Doctor commanded, grabbing her hand. "Get the wrong passkey and you could set off an alarm."

"How do you even type a passkey?" Sasha wondered, watching the screen as a trail of letters and numbers and symbols scrolled past.

"That is the question exactly. Whatever you do, you don't touch it. You'd need an electric key. Something along the lines of an oyster card but much more complicated."

"What are those symbols? Some sort of language?"

"Yes. But not your usual language."

"French?"

"Much, much worse," the Doctor frowned.

"Now that's scary," Sasha gasped.

The Doctor pulled the sonic out from his pocket, aimed it at the small screen. "I'm right. This is Cyberman technology used to the lock the door. Give me a moment. If I can just . . ." And the door opened!

Slowly, a little scared, Sasha pushed the door open, stepping into the office.

The room was lit was a grey glow from the city outside. Each side was lined with bookcases, filled with files and wallets and every other form of documentation. Miss Rubens' desk sat in front of the large window, looking into the room. Not a single object was out of place – it was all in-line and symmetrical.

"Not even a stray mug of tea," Sasha pointed out, cautiously stepping further into the office.

"This isn't just tidy, this is meticulous," the Doctor frowned, hurrying up to the desk. "It's as if the spacing between the objects has been measured. And look! Not even a hair on the seat. No oily fingerprints on the keyboard . . ."

"And these files are empty," Sasha added, picking a file from the bookcase and flicking through it, revealing blank pages and empty plastic wallets.

"It's as if she was ever here, but she has! There are high heel marks leading to the door and a chair indent on the floor," the Doctor inspected.

Sasha muttered, "This is creepy. Ergh!" she cried, shivering. "Little being in a haunted house."

"The woman who never was . . ." the Doctor thought to himself.

"And who might that be?" a voice asked.

The Doctor and Sasha turned to face the door, dropping whatever they were holding. They looked up, blushing with trembling lips, to the woman at the door. Miss Rubens had arrived!

I hope you enjoyed that! Keep reading!