Chapter One

With a bump and a squeak and a rattle, the TARDIS materialised after a long and gruelling flight. The Doctor was slumped in the captain's chair, worn-out after running and leaping around the console. Amy still had the guardrail in a death grip. After a moment, the Doctor leapt to his feet.

"Welcome to the planet of…well, it doesn't have a name as of yet, but in twenty years time, the Galactic Federation will finally notice that and give it one."

Amy let go of the rail and painfully straightened up. "What does it get called?"

The Doctor tapped the side of his nose. "Spoilers."

His companion laughed. "You're beginning to sound like River Song!"

The Doctor smiled. "Want to see it? It's beautiful."

Amy's eyes sparkled. "I'll give you three guesses." She pressed a button on the console and called into the microphone. "You coming, Rory?"

From the speaker came a scuffling noise, a muffled thump and a moan of pain. Another scuffling noise came through the grille, then Rory spoke. "I'm quite content recovering from my previous ordeals, thank you very much."

Amy pouted. "Suit yourself." She released the button and turned to the Doctor. "Let's go, then!"

The Doctor took the ramp in two strides and flung open the doors. His grin quickly turned into a frown, though. He closed the doors again, then stepped back and turned to face Amy. She crossed her arms. "You've landed in the wrong place, haven't you?"

"No, I haven't." He looked down at his left foot. "It's just that I think we've gatecrashed a party."

Now that the Doctor mentioned it, Amy could here classical music filtering through the doors. "How far in the future are we?" she asked. The Doctor consulted his watched. "We're in the year…twenty-one forty-three, why?"

"Mainly because they're playing Shostakovich. A party, you said?" The Doctor nodded. "Well, I'd better raid the wardrobe then, hadn't I?" She flashed a smile and bounded down the ramp on the other side of the control room. The Doctor shrugged and started off to his own bedroom, then stopped short. Would that tuxedo actually fit him any more? It had been custom-made for his previous, rather slimmer regeneration. But then he remembered – the TARDIS had made a new one for him. Hopefully this one won't be my unlucky tuxedo, he thought as he went to get changed.

Half an hour later, the Doctor was just finishing tying his black bow tie for the umpteenth time. He finally managed to get the last loop through the knot and pulled it tight. After a little adjustment and the donning of the replacement jacket (this time, the TARDIS had provided him with morning wear), he was ready.

The Doctor went down the corridor to Amy's room and banged on the door. "Come on! The canapés are being brought out! We don't want to miss those!"

The door opened six inches and Amy poked her head round the door. "All right, stop your banging!" She grinned cheekily. "You can always come and…help me get my dress on." She swayed seductively but the Doctor was having none of it.

"Need I remind you that you are getting married in the morning one hundred and forty-three years ago?"

The door was closed abruptly in his face. The Doctor contented himself for five seconds before the door opened again and Amy reappeared. "Do you have a red clutch bag on this ship?" The Doctor scratched his head. "Um, I'm not sure, just ask the computer terminal and it will transmat you one." Again, the door closed.

Five minutes later, the Doctor leapt from the captain's chair as Amy walked up the ramp. Truth be told, she looked absolutely stunning. She had chosen a scarlet strapless dress that came down to her knees with matching high-heeled shoes. In here hand she held a matching clutch bag with a gold clasp. The Doctor had to try hard not to gasp.

"So, what do you think, Doctor?" she teased.

"Um, what do you need a clutch bag for? You do know that the GBP isn't widely accepted in this galaxy, right?"

"Oh, you know, my hankie, my video camera, that sort of thing."

"Right," said the Doctor slowly. "But couldn't you just put those in your...pocket...right, okay, I see, no pockets, yes."

Amy laughed and sauntered up to him, then slipped her arm into his elbow. "Escort me, oh noble sir!" she said.

"Yes, my lady," retorted the Doctor. They walked down the ramp.

Upon exiting the TARDIS, the softly-playing Shostakovich washed over the two as they walked into the sunlight. Waiters in black tuxedos swept past from all directions, some carrying trays of champagne, orange juice and glasses of wine, and others with platters of canapés. The Doctor paused his observations long enough to spy Amy removing a Flip Ultra HD from her clutch bag and recording the whole scene. He tutted loudly.

"Honestly, the youth of today! Always uploading to Facebook or Twitter!"

Amy chuckled. "You know, I don't think they have Facebook here..."

Before the Doctor could think of a retort, let alone speak it, one of the waiters glided over. "Would you care for a drink, sir? Madam?"

The Doctor accepted an orange juice, whilst Amy went for a glass of champagne. As she took a sip, she nearly choked as the liquid burned a fiery path down her throat. She gagged.

"What?" she spluttered. "I thought this was meant to be champagne! It's more like carbonated brandy!"

"Oh, didn't I mention?" said the Doctor airily. "Alcohol is five times stronger here. Plus, the lower levels of oxygen in the air make it more effective. Since you aren't used to it, you'd get drunk in roughly half a glass of that stuff. In fact..." He whipped the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and scanned the drink. The green light gave the bubbles an eery glow. He continued, "Yes, as I thought. One hundred millilitres would teetotal you."

Amy swallowed and set the glass down on a table. She then moved swiftly to a waiter, collected an orange juice and repositioned herself next to the Doctor on the balcony.

"So, what is there to do on this planet?" she asked.

"Well, right now, we enjoy the party." The Doctor turned to Amy and raised his glass. She clinked the rims and they turned to take in the scene. As the orchestral work drew to a close, there was a smattering of applause and a spotlight blinked on a microphone on the stage. A young man in a rather expensive-looking tailed jacket mounted the podium and spoke into the microphone. The Doctor and Amy didn't listen, though, as Amy leant across the drinks table and whispered into his ear.

"Who's the hotshot, then?"

"I don't know. I suppose he's the chap who threw the party."

Throughout his speech, the man kept on glancing in Amy's direction. The Doctor chuckled inwardly and waited until the close of his speech before speaking. "Don't look now, but I think somebody has an admirer."

Amy looked in the direction of his gaze and saw the young man make his way through the guests towards her. When he arrived, he extended his hand.

"Well, hello there!" he said. Even in those first three words, Amy took an instant dislike to his smarmy attitude, yet allowed his lips to brush the back of her hand. "I'm Lord Galectus. Theo Galectus." Not forgetting the Doctor, Galectus turned and shook hands with the Doctor. "A pleasure to meet you both, I must say. And, you are..."

"I'm the Doctor and this is Amy," said the Doctor. Galectus nodded slowly.

"Are you two...you know, together?" he asked, hesitating slightly.

The Doctor and Amy were quick to correct him. "Oh, no, we're not...together. Well, we are together, but not...TOgether, if you know what I mean..." They both trailed off until Amy finished. "We're sort of travelling companions but that's all."

Galectus smiled. "So, where are you both from?"

The Doctor spoke. "Amy here is from Sol 3. You know, Eastern Spiral Arm of the Milky Way. I'm from Gallifrey."

The other man choked. "A Time Lord? But they're a myth, aren't they?"

"Just because we're a myth doesn't mean we don't exist," said the Time Lord. Galectus straightened up.

"A man of wisdom, I see. Which would concur with your original statement. Time Lords were meant to be wise."

All this time, Galectus was slowly edging his way next to Amy. She noticed this, but pretended not to let on. Although engaged, she decided not to mention it. She wanted to see where this was going. When Galectus put his arm through hers, she stifled a yelp.

"Oh, I'm sorry," purred Galectus. "I suppose my hands are cold from my cocktail. Why don't we...get to know each other a little better, hmm? Come to my private apartment and away from all this noise. That is, of course, assuming your companion doesn't mind?" He turned to the Doctor. He shrugged. "Well, I suppose it's up to Amy, isn't it?"

Amy considered. If anything went wrong, the Doctor would notice. "Okay, I suppose so. Lead the way, Lord Galectus."

As they left, Galectus smiled. "Please, call me Theo."

The Doctor's hearts leapt as he realised what Rory would do to him if anything happened to her. But hey – she could look after herself. Besides, he wouldn't mind a little snooping around himself. The Doctor slipped his screwdriver up his sleeve and made his way over to the tables. He had spotted some vol-au-vents on a tray and wanted to sample one or two. Maybe five or six... Amy would be fine, anyway.

Even as he thought this, Galectus put his mouth to his lapel and spoke quietly into a pinprick microphone. "Make the necessary preparations."

A voice spoke out of a miniature speaker hard-wired into his ear drum. "Yes, sir."