* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 In a corner of the TARDIS, two fluffy bunnies sat and contemplated the new twist that their life had taken. They were two of the rabbits that Stuart and Crispin had released from Givenchy's lab, and their names were Twiggy and Moxie. They had started out life as the pets of a thirteen year old called Rachel. When Rachel had become more interested in boys, and less interested in rabbits, Moxie and Twiggy had gone back to the pet shop. Which is where Ysabelle Givenchy had bought them, claiming they were to be a present for her grandson.

 Rabbits are generally more intelligent than people give them credit to be. Not only had Moxie and Twiggy suspected Givenchy from the start, they had formulated a plan that would solve the whole time vortex dilemma.

 Unfortunately, there was no-one who would listen. So they sat, noses twitching, and contemplated life some more.

 ***

 Anna and Stuart were tired. They'd been hauling pieces of machinery and wood for hours. The one thing that had made it bearable was the quick glances and moments of hand-holding that they'd surreptitiously exchanged.

 They were heading into the console room with a final load of wood. Anna stopped in one of the corridors for a quick conference. "So what do we do now?" she whispered.

 "I don't know," Stuart whispered back, "But things don't look too good." The Chattermalians were building a big, BIG pile of things in the console room, and it looked as if they were going to set fire to it all.

 Anna looked at him, and grinned. "Things don't look too bad from where I'm standing," she said softly. She leant forward, and brushed Stuart's cheek with her lips. He blushed several amazing different colours.

 "MOVE!" Folintarc thundered, sticking his head out of the console room to see why they were taking so long. They sprang apart, and moved the rest of their burdens into the console room. They dumped them on the ominous looking pile. The Chattermalians - Folintarc included - were carrying burning torches.

 "We shall purge the evil from this place," Folintarc said. The others nodded solemnly. Folintarc raised his torch high above his head. "To ettursant!" he called out.

 "To ettursant!!!" the others echoed. They plunged their torches into the pile.

 ***

 Meanwhile, back in Clacktown...

 "Doctor!!" a familiar voice suddenly shouted in triumph from down the street. "I've found you at last."

 The Doctor groaned, and turned to face the speaker, although he already knew who it was. "Ysabelle," he said, acknowledging her. Givenchy was hobbling down the street, fighting off Dessia's attempts to restrain her. "Leave me alone, girl," she said, swatting Dessia's hands away. "It's the Doctor I want to talk to. He has a lot to answer for."

 The Doctor and Givenchy stared at each other. He looked different from the last time that she had seen him - instead of the small Scottish man, or the large curly-haired man, he seemed an amalgam. The curly hair was still there, but the face was softer, rounder. The eyes were more intelligent, and piercing. The body was a little bulkier, or maybe that was the way this regeneration had turned out.

 The Doctor stared back at Givenchy, matching her stare eye for eye. In his mind, he remembered the young and beautiful woman she had been. Now he saw her for the crone she was, her mind wrinkled along with her body.

 "I'm confused," Crispin said. "You mean you two know each other?"

 The Doctor turned to Crispin, noticing him as if for the first time. The baby barbarian Blastock let out a tiny wail, and the Doctor glanced down to the bundle he held in his arms. He looked sheepishly at Crispin. "Erm, could you possibly..." the Doctor said, trailing off in mid sentence.

 "Come to daddy," Crispin said, ruefully. The Doctor passed the baby to him, and he rocked it back and forwards in his arms. He looked back at the Doctor. "You didn't answer my question."

 "Yes, we know each other," Givenchy hissed. "He ruined my career, my life, my looks..."

 "You meddled with forces beyond your control," the Doctor insisted.

 Then Givenchy and the Doctor were speaking over the top of each other, shouting and insulting each other. An ear-splitting whistle reduced them both to silence. Drax stepped between the two of them. "That's better. Can we go through this, one step at a time? Okay. From the beginning. Once upon a time..."

 "Once upon a time'," the Doctor began.

 Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young princess called Ysabelle. She lived in a magical kingdom called University, and was studying very, very hard to become a scientist. One night, as she was walking back to her lodgings, she met a strange wizard who called himself Doctor John Smith. He told Ysabelle wonderful stories about the magical land of Gallifrey, and about an evil spider that had so poisoned him with its venom, that he was forced to change his appearance.

 The princess could see that the wizard was dazed and confused from his ordeal, so she snuck him back into her dormitory. Then, the princess did something naughty. She took some flesh and tissue samples from the Doctor. When the Doctor recovered, he did not mention it, and he soon left.

 The princess analysed the samples, and found that they were magical. She managed to use them to create a magical potion that would make people stay young and beautiful forever and ever.

 The Doctor stopped talking for a moment, and looked at Givenchy with something resembling hatred. "I was suffering post-regenerative trauma. When I did remember my visit to your time, I couldn't remember if it was a dream, or whether it really happened. Then, several regenerations later, I landed in 1980s earth. Ysabelle's Beauty Secrets was the top selling range. And then I knew that it wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare."

 Earth, 1987.

 Ace stormed into the Allen Road House, waving a newspaper. "We've got to do something," she said. "It's like Chick all over again." She thrust a newspaper into Benny's hands, and demanded "Read."

 But it was the pictures that shocked Benny - the dead and dying cats, the dog held in a collar as a white suited lab assistant applied lipstick to its eyes. And Ysabelle Givenchy, proudly accepting the National Cosmetician's Association prize for Product of the Year.

 Benny met Ace's stare. "We've got to do something."

 "Your companions led the raid that ruined my laboratory," Givenchy hissed. "They destroyed years of research."

 "Years of torture," Crispin snapped.

 "And you interfered, Doctor," Givenchy continued. "Taking me around the universe in the TARDIS, showing the beauty of kindness. Beauty? Hah!" Givenchy spat on the ground at the Doctor's feet. "You were trying to persuade me to change. It didn't work. It never works."

 ***

 "Behold, the magical fire!" Folintarc yelled joyously. Stuart and Anna exchanged a glance. The fire was burning with the same sort of sparkle that indicated another time storm. The familiar gothic interior of the Doctor's TARDIS was melting away, replaced by stark white corridors. Everyone looked around, confused.

 "We have been bewitched," Turncwart cried. "The wizard has outwitted us, even in death."

 Anna nudged Stuart. "Let's get out of here, before they start with the `death to his apprentices' routine." The couple slowly edged back, away from the burning machine. They moved back a few more paces, and nodded to each other. "Run!" Stuart whispered. They sprinted away down the corridor.

 Salistinog tore his gaze away from the burning pile. "The sorcerers apprentices have lied to us," he said. "They are obviously as skilled in the unnatural arts was is their master. Death to the apprentices!"

 "Death to the apprentices!" echoed Folintarc and Turncwart. They glanced around, only to find that their apprentices had gone.

 "After them!"

 ***

 Romana was walking down a corridor in the Panopticon, talking to Andred. "No word yet from the Doctor?" she asked. Andred shook his head. "He hasn't contacted us. Perhaps he's working on a solution. Perhaps he is unable to reach us."

 "C) None of the above," Romana muttered to herself. "If I know him, he's got himself into more trouble."

 "Aren't you being-" Andred began. He never finished his sentence. Anna and Stuart charged out of a side corridor, and accidentally ran straight into him.

 "What's going on?" Romana said, suddenly authoritarian. Stuart straightened up, panting a little. "Chattermalians," he said.

 "On Gallifrey? Impossible!" Andred said. "Their aversion to anything technological..."

 "Look," Anna said. "Trust us. They're here. The TARDIS just sort of faded out of earth, and faded in here."

 Romana looked at her suspiciously. "Does the Doctor have anything to do with this?"

 Anna nodded.

 Andred was still trying to comprehend what Stuart had told him. "My Lady President, if his story is true, then we are in severe trouble. The Chattermalians aversion to technology is legendary."

 "I'm well aware of that," Romana said. "I'm also aware that our technology is useless, given that the vortex no longer exists. I suggest we return to the Council Chamber and try and secure defence of some kind."

 "What are we waiting for?" Stuart said. From the distance came the howls of Chattermalians in hunt. The foursome looked at each other, turned, and began to sprint back along the corridor, towards the relative safety of the Council Chamber.

 ***

 "Grace, can you sew?" the Abbot asked.

 "Huh?" Grace looked back at him, confused.

 "Sewing. Embroidery. Needlework," he said.

 She rolled her eyes at him. "I'm a surgeon. I've been cutting up bodies and sewing them back together since second year med school."

 "A little crude," the Abbot said. "But it might do. You see, I think that-"

 But Grace wasn't listening. In her mind, something strange was happening. She saw the Doctor - the Doctor she had accidentally killed on the operating table so long ago. He was sitting in the console room - but it was different, it was all white walls and roundels. And there was a young woman sitting there, talking to him. "It's naff, Professor," she was saying.

 And Grace noticed a funny thing. Her point of view. To get this kind of view of the TARDIS, she would have to be standing... *in the console* thought a tiny part of her mind that was still Grace. *This is what the TARDIS has seen. She's watching Ace and the Doctor. Ace stabbed the Doctor a few months ago. I couldn't prevent it. I couldn't stop it.*

 Ace continued speaking. "She moved with so much grace-"

 Grace.

 "Grace."

 "GRACE!"

 Grace snapped back into reality. The Abbot was calling out her name. "What happened?" she asked. He looked at her. "The Doctor's TARDIS was taking over you."

 Her legs suddenly felt unsteady, and she clutched at the console for support. "What can I do?"

 "Hmmm," the Abbot said. "Much as I dislike interference, I think in this case I must sacrifice my principles for the common good."

 "Spare me the moralising," Grace said.

 He frowned at her. "My TARDIS - like all others - is linked to the Matrix. If someone could enter the Matrix, it's possible that they might just be able to link together the timestreams of each TARDIS. It might just be enough to get the Vortex back into shape."

 "You don't sound too sure," Grace muttered.

 "I'm not sure," he said. "I'm a scholar, not a scientist. Grace, if anyone can enter the Matrix, it must be you. Your body print is already in there, so you can enter there without the matrix crown, or any other such paraphernalia."

 "But if I'm exposed to all the other timestreams, won't that increase the chance of me being assimilated into the Doctor's TARDIS?" Grace protested weakly.

 The Abbot looked at her solemnly. "It may. But if you don't try it, then you are doomed anyway."

 He was right, damn him. "Okay," she said, wearily. "What do I have to do?"

 "Look into my eyes," he said. She stared into his eyes, and he reached out and took her hand. There was a kind of electric shock, and then all she could see were his eyes, and they were getting BIGGER. And then she was traveling down a dark pathway. *Nerve fibres*, she thought, recognising them from first year med school. *I'm traveling through his brain, to the Matrix*

 Light exploded in her face, and she was suddenly sitting on a grassy hill. In her mind, memories - the TARDIS's memories - began to dance and flicker. She had reached the Matrix.

 The Abbot stumbled a little, and leant on the console for support. He had felt Grace arrive in the Matrix, just as he had felt her traveling down his neural pathways. "Getting old, Abacus," he muttered to himself. "A few centuries ago, this would have been a Shobogan's party trick to you."

 Fresh air, that's what he needed. He flicked the door control, and stepped outside the TARDIS, into the familiar-

 He wasn't in the monastery. And he was standing in front of three angry Roman raiders, who had carried off his TARDIS when they'd raided the monastery and massacred the monks.

 "Another monk," growled Septimus. Flavius and Porcellus grabbed him, and forced him to his knees. Septimus drew his sword. He lifted it high above his head, ready to bring it down and behead the Abbot.

 "Prepare to die!" he howled.

 To Be Continued...