The heavy metallic door slid open. Pocketing her security card, Tess stepped aside, allowing her charges into the comfortable waiting room. 'Please wait here,' she told them. 'Allow me to inform the commander of your arrival. Ikkeham and Roni will keep you company while you wait.'

August offered a tight smile to the burlier of the two guards, sizing him up. The man's neck was nearly as thick around as a 30-pound plate; his chin sharp enough to poke someone's eye out from a good two metres distance. He had that look in his eye all gruelling, militant men have in American films as he flexed his finger against the trigger of his rifle. His partner in discipline—stocky and sleeveless to make room for a pair of bulging biceps—had a sneer drawn across his Schwarzenegger-like features. Or perhaps it was an attempt at a smile; hard to tell beneath his scraggly, bar-handle moustache.

Noting all this, and the fact that his eye-level barely reached their shoulders, August tactically shifted his focus away from the guards and toward the room.

Two, plump, pink couches sat across from one another. A metal coffee table stood between them, complemented by a gaudy orange rug. There were no televisions or other futuristic-type entertainment systems to occupy guests while they waited. However, the floor-to-ceiling windows the couches faced provided a serene view of the stars, more than compensating for the oversight. Donna was already picking her way through the complementary snack bar to the right of the couches, making faces at something squirming in a bowl. On the left was a toiletry door and, looking up, August made note of a large vent on the ceiling. Comically large, he thought. Even an Ice Giant could fit through it with relative ease.

'I trust these accommodations are suitable, Dr Keyes?' Tess inquired with a professional tone.

August, distracted by the odd vent, didn't hear her at first. 'Hmm? Oh, yes! It's lovely,' he answered, giving her his most pleasant fake smile.

Years of working in customer service had made the effort almost involuntary. Every response August had received to expression was along the same line as the closed-lipped, polite look Tess returned. And yet, the coquetry way her curvy hips swayed as she stepped out of the room was new. Frowning, August attempted to spy which direction she was heading in, but the guard with the itchy trigger finger blocked his line of sight and the door closed with a soft hiss.

'Cheers,' August muttered, before wandering over to the bar.

Donna had located some peanuts to snack on, or at least they looked like peanuts. As August approached, she whispered, 'Smiley bunch, aren't they?'

'I would be too if my commanding officer was her,' August responded at the same volume.

'What do you think it is that they do here to need security like that?'

Donna's question was pertinent, but the underlying meaning behind her words was evident in the way she eyeballed the two guards whilst cracking open a peanut shell with her teeth.

'Could be any number of things, really,' August pondered. He'd seen the size of the space station from the TARDIS monitor—it was a huge, hulking thing. The stark white hallways they'd walked down on their way to the waiting room confirmed that. Each hall had the birth of a school gymnasium with smoothed outer walls that connected with the ceiling and floor in such a way that made August feel as if they were walking inside an ovular pool noodle. If there were any planets nearby that the station was perhaps monitoring or protecting, they weren't visible from any of the windows they had passed, nor the ones in the waiting room. As it were, Eternis Station seemed like a pit stop in the middle of the desert. As good a place as any to refuel and store spare parts from—or for—any unlucky pilots trapped in a nowhere land.

August's brow furrowed tightly, then. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, nostrils flaring. He was at the point now—in whatever system of psychosomatic analysis that was used to evaluate a person's response to stress—where he was beginning to get impatient and somewhat annoyed with himself. His mind, he realised, was attempting to process the situation as if it were another episode of television and not real life. The presence of an American-style security detail at a seemingly remote space station didn't necessarily indicate secret, illicit activities. For all August knew Eternis was the meeting place of an intergalactic peace council that required high-quality security staff to protect them from war-bound species such as the Daleks.

The fact remained, however, that if August was sitting in front of the telly right now, he would be awfully suspicious that such men were being made to guard two, perfectly innocent, health and safety inspectors.

Grumbling, August crossed his arms and leaned against the bar table. 'I just hope we can finish this "inspection" soon and get back to the TARDIS before anything unpleasant happens,' he told Donna.

She hummed in agreement, popping yet another peanut into her mouth. 'You did good back there, by the way,' she mentioned. 'I almost thought they'd throw us out the airlock.'

'Or shoot us.' August, met with Donna's glare, cleared his throat, and looked elsewhere. 'Thanks,' he added softly.

August's stomach growled, so Donna offered him her bowl of peanuts. Accepting, August pressed a shell up against his forefinger, using his thumb to break it open. As he popped the freed peanut into his mouth, he felt Donna's eyes on him. In particular, her gaze was drawn to his impatient, bouncing leg. He tried to stop it—tensing his muscles in the process—only for his fingers to start drumming a slowed-down version of the William Tell overture.

'Do you have someone?' Donna blurted. 'Back home, I mean. It's just… You seem kind of anxious to leave and I would have thought, given what you've told me, you'd be loving all this.' She gestured to the space-age décor surrounding them.

'Well,' August began slowly, not entirely where Donna's question was heading. 'I'm not not loving this,' he admitted. After all, travelling in the TARDIS had always been a dream of his; with infinite possibilities and wonders, the entirety of time and the universe an arm's length away, the Doctor's world had fuelled his imagination and desire for something beyond the drivel scenery of his hometown. However, the current situation had painted a completely different picture then what he'd imagined it would be like—which, of course, complicated things. 'I would have thought you'd be anxious, too,' he decided to say, eyeing Donna carefully. 'Given the circumstances.'

Donna laughed. 'Well,' she said largely, 'I wouldn't call it anxiety, just—you know—not exactly happy to be here without—' she cleared her throat and, tactically, shifted the focus of the conversation back onto August. 'You mentioned a woman, before—in the TARDIS. Holly, you said. Is she the one you want to get home for? Cos, I can tell you, sometimes the only thing keeping me going is knowing how worried grandad will be if I… well, you know.'

'I suppose. I mean…' August managed, feeling a lump forming in his throat. Realistically, there was no reason to want to leave the station quickly—other than for safety, but that was a moot point. The fact was when they got back to the TARDIS, the answer to their larger problem, him, wasn't just going to land in their laps. They may as well have to spend months searching for a way to get him home. There was no amount of impatience on his part that was going to change that. Especially considering that, from home's point of view, nothing out of the ordinary would occur. That's the way the life of a time traveller worked. It would be six o'clock on Holly's twenty-fourth birthday for as long as August needed it to be. And yet…

'See, it's funny,' August began tensely, 'cos time is supposed to be inconsequential when you travel in the TARDIS, right? But that's rarely the case. You could say it's cos the Doctor's a terrible pilot, but I don't think so.' Abruptly, August found himself pacing as if he were a university's English professor giving a soliloquy on the art of Shakespeare. 'Things is, I think the TARDIS knows that we, as linear beings, need something to have moved on when we return home. A new shop or album release. Someone to ask, "And where have you been?" so our egos know we've been missed because if months and months had passed for us, but everyone back home stayed the same then what are the consequences?' He came up close to Donna, holding out his hand as if these consequences were physical manifestations he could contain. 'Cos if there are no consequences, what then? What draws you back?'

Donna's eyes were big and round. 'You're afraid she won't wait for you.'

August blinked, that lump in his throat nearly choking him. 'Yeah.' He found himself saying, leaning back against the bar table. 'Yeah, I suppose I am. Or…' and with this, he took a long pause, 'that she won't need to.'

'Oi,' breathed Donna, suddenly heated. 'Don't say that. Cos if something happens and you can't get back then—'

She didn't have to say it. 'I know.'

A moment of silence passed between them before Donna decided to speak up again. Her voice was shaky. 'Tell me, you said something like this has happened before?'

'Something like what?'

'Something where the TARDIS had been brought onto a space station accidentally because—go-figure—a police box isn't the best disguise when you're stuck out in the middle of the flippin' cosmos,' said Donna.

'Oh. That,' muttered August. 'Well, yeah. It's happened before. Not exactly like this, though. Last time, there was a whole thing to do with-with this… this magno-grab device and the TARDIS imploding.' At Donna's alarmed expression, he clarified, 'Not that we should have to worry about that happening.'

Donna nodded slowly. 'Good to know.'

'You were hoping for a solution other than waiting, weren't you?' August figured.

'Yeah,' said Donna breathily.

'Sorry.'

'Not your fault.'

August snorted, reaching back into the bowl, and cracking another peanut open with his thumb. 'Isn't it?'

Donna found herself unable to dispute that, nor could she think of anything reassuring to say. Instead, she grabbed another handful of peanuts for herself. 'Guess we'll just have to wait then.'

Meanwhile, on her way to the commander's office, Tess took a deep breath and wondered what sort of mood Phiseo was going to be in when she arrived. The idea of police intruding on their humble operations made him wary enough. Now there were surprise inspectors? Ones that Tess could feel unruliness oozing off of. This doctor and his lady friend were trouble, she knew, but of what kind?

Scanning her key card next to the door, Tess stepped into Phiseo's office. She kept her posture as taut as she could manage and saluted her commander. Phiseo did not look up from his terminal.

'I am here to report on the blue police box and its occupants, commander sir,' said Tess.

'Go ahead, officer,' mumbled Phiseo.

Tess held up the small blue wallet Dr Keyes had handed her containing his and Ms Noble's identification. It had taken some convincing for him to part with it in the docking bay, but after Tess had informed him of the trouble he would be in if he did not do so the good doctor was more than willing to let her hold on to it.

'Health and safety inspectors from the Galactic offices. They wish to do a full sweep of the base.'

Phiseo held out his hand, motioning for Tess to hand him the wallet. She did so, watching as he brought it up to his eyes. He scanned its contents carefully, pushing out his cheeks with his tongue in thought, before pressing down a button on his terminal's keypad. After a short buzzing sound, the speaker crackled to life.

'Todd, I have an identification card I'd like you to verify in my office,' said Phiseo. 'You'll run every scan you can and then call our friends at the G.H.O. to see what they have to say about one Dr Keyes and a Ms Donna Noble.'

'Yessir,' came Todd's voice through the speaker.

Tess waited patiently for Phiseo to address her again. When it was clear he wasn't, 'Sir, what shall I tell our guests while we wait for the results?' she asked.

He didn't respond right away, appearing quite contemplative as he played with the frayed edges of the blue wallet. 'Do you know why we run this station the way we do, officer Maybourne?'

Tess blinked. The question was unexpected. 'To… make money, sir?' she said, hesitantly.

Phiseo gave her a polite smile. 'Exactly, girl. Exactly. And do you know what doesn't make us money?'

She thought for only a second. 'Snoops, sir?'

Phiseo's smile grew tenfold. He pressed another button on his terminal's keypad. There was another buzzing sound and then the speaker once again crackled to life. 'Feric, my dear lad, I'm going to need you in the waiting room. Deck…'

'Nine, sir,' supplied Tess.

Phiseo nodded at her and then, into the speaker, 'Deck nine. There's going to be some clean-up to do there soon-ish—I'd like you to be prepared ahead of time.'

'Yessir,' said Feric.

'And what if they aren't snoops, sir?' blurted Tess. She couldn't help her curiosity. The inspectors were, as all unwanted guests were on Eternis Station, suspicious. And yet, she couldn't help but find them extremely intriguing. Especially the male. He reminded her of someone, she supposed. Someone from back home, but she couldn't quite place her finger on who.

Phiseo's polite smile took a barbarous turn at her question. His lip curled. His nostrils flared. Tess could have sworn he'd begun to growl. 'We'll have to see. Won't we officer?'

Fifteen or so minutes had passed in the waiting room in silence. After finishing the bowl of peanuts, all August and Donna could think to do was leer at the guards whose large ears and mile-long stares kept any serious discussions from forming between them.

August tried to avoid direct eye contact with the men, finding the sight of them as tortuous on the eyes as cutting garlic. Obstinately, Donna seemed to enjoy drinking in as much of their incredibly fit and boxy physiques as possible.

However—sometime during August's attempt to catalogue and name constellations he could see through the waiting room window—Donna broke her staring contest with the guards with a large, overdramatic sigh.

'Oi, big boys!' she called to them, 'how much longer do you figure that commander of yours is going to make us wait? We don't have all day, you know!'

Neither of the men showed any signs they'd even heard Donna's question. They stood at attention with such strict stoicism August was surprised their faces hadn't gone completely numb.

'I don't think they care,' he muttered over his shoulder. 'And it's hardly been half an hour, Donna. It took us twenty minutes to get to this room alone. Who knows how much further up the station's commander is.'

Donna huffed, standing from the pink couch she'd been sitting on and plopping down next to August on his. She eyed the guards one last time, sneering, before turning to him. 'The longer we're kept here, the more it starts to feel like they don't believe us. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not hang around any longer to find out.'

'Neither do I,' whispered August in turn, 'but what do you suggest we do? They'll be on us before we ever manage to locate the airlock controls—let alone the TARDIS.'

'Then we don't look for the controls. I remember the way we came in. We'll just have to see what we can do about the fade-y thing-ama-whatsit the TARDIS does to get out of here.' Donna shrugged. 'I mean, it can't be that hard to fly, can it?'

'It's a dimensionally transcendental time machine; of course, it's that hard to fly!'

'Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud! I don't see you coming up with any alternatives!'

It was August's turn to sigh dramatically. He couldn't really be mad at Donna. After all, he was the one that recommended they leave the TARDIS in the first place on the off chance Eternis had some space laser beam strong enough to breach her outer hull. Not that that possibility had disappeared completely, but hiding in the TARDIS did seem safer than waiting till Eternis's security really did decide to kill them outright for trespassing at this point. Or, as an added bonus, identity fraud.

'Alri',' August said heavily, ignoring Donna's broad smile. 'We can try to fly the TARDIS. But what're we going to do about them?' He jerked his head at the guards.

'We'll distract them,' said Donna.

'How?'

Donna mimed a stabbing gesture.

'That's a bit violent, isn't it?'

It took Donna a moment to realise where she had lost him. 'No! I'm not talking about goring them. I'm talking about sonicing.' She made the gesture again. This time in the direction of the ceiling. Her grip was all wrong, but August supposed he could see how she was meant to be holding the sonic. 'You can set the alarm off again. Maybe they'll go running to find out what's wrong.'

'Maybe?'

Donna threw up her hands. 'Whose been coming up with the ideas, lately? You can't expect all of them to be foolproof!'

Once again, despite his better judgement, August nodded his head side-to-side, grumbling in agreement.

Pulling the sonic halfway out of his jacket pocket, he gingerly pushed the tip up. 'Alright now,' he whispered sweetly to the device, cooing like a parent would to their newborn. 'This time I want you to activate the alarm. Can you do that?'

Confident the inanimate object understood, August pressed the black button down, cringing at the sonics usual whizzzzing noise as he thought very hard about alarms, whistles, and bells, when—

The waiting room door slid open.

Donna's immediate reaction was to slap August on the shoulder. He dodged, nearly becoming a ball on the couch in an effort to avoid her as well as keep his surprise from showing.

A new face entered. In an instant, August and Donna were on their feet, trying to avoid suspicious appearances as they eyed the short, thinly man before them. For a moment, August thought he could have been the commander they were waiting for, but no. Something about the way the man held himself did not seem to bring an air of dignity and respect into the room. From his wiry hair hidden by a grey cap to the way his overalls sagged largely over his shoulders, August got the impression of someone a lot lower on the totem pole.

Overalls ignored them, speaking with the guards in a whisper. A cool, composed smirk appeared on his face as they all got chummy with each other. Then, after what seemed like some good-hearted convincing, the guards nodded and exited the room.

As soon as the doors shut behind them, Overalls turned and gave August and Donna that same smirk. Except now August could see it wasn't as composed of an expression as it appeared. The edges of the man's lips were twitching as he wrung out his hands.

'Hullo,' said Overalls rather uncertainly. 'You must be the fake health and safety inspectors.'

This time when Donna went to slap August, she nailed him. 'I told you they didn't believe us!'

'Ow!' hissed August, rubbing at his arm. 'Yes, I think that point has been made clear, now. Thanks.'

Overalls looked between them, seeming disconcerted with their behaviour, before quietly moving over to the couches. He began pulling one of them toward the toiletry door with surprising ease. 'There's a maintenance shaft in the ceiling,' he began explaining. 'The cover is easy enough to remove. Once inside the shaft, we can make our way to the waiting room on the floor above. From there we can take a ladder to the docking bay where your ship is.'

August barely had time to process the direction, before Overalls was climbing onto the couch and reaching up to that enormous vent on the ceiling. 'Wait. Hold on!' he cried. 'Just who the hell are you? Why do you want to help us get back to our ship?'

'If I don't, they kill you,' said Overalls as he began loosening the vent's screws. With all four removed, the vent came off effortlessly. 'Please. Time is of the essence.' Overalls lowered and cupped his hands, prepared to hoist Donna and August into the opening.

Donna didn't hesitate. She pressed a heeled foot into the stranger's hand and placed her hands on his shoulders. He lifted and up she went into the maintenance shaft, disappearing from view.

August, however, did hesitate. He bit his lip, sucked in air through his teeth, and wiggled around nervously until he heard the angry, grunting voices of the guards outside. 'Oh, I hate being right,' he whined, before finally following Donna's lead, allowing Overalls to lift him up into the dark shaft above.

Once more unto the breach, August thought, as he, too, was consumed by shadow.