Wow, it feels good to write again! This was originally supposed to be a quick, little, thousand-word one shot based off a prompt from who-knows-where, but then it kinda...grew. A lot. This will probably end up a three-parter...you know, eventually. Until then, enjoy part 1!

My aim is to improve; so criticism, critiques, and (well, any sort of review actually) would really be appreciated!
(aka please review!)

Prompt: "Just for fun, the Eleventh Doctor and Amy would occasionally pop back in time and drop water balloons on his former incarnation and Donna. Hilarity would ensue."

"Wibbly-Wobbly Water Balloons" (part 1)

"Pond! When you were a little girl, what did you and your friends do for fun?"

The unexpected voice from below the console platform caused Amy to snap out of her train of thought. She wiped a stray tear off of her face—why was she crying?—and cleared her throat. "Um, what?"

The Doctor poked his head up from below the TARDIS console, his brown bangs plastered to his forehead and a pink tennis ball clutched in hand. "You. And your friends. Fun. What did you do?"

"Are you trying to make me feel better?" she asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow and pursing her lips. She had been pulling that particular expression quite often lately; but then again, the Doctor had been acting really weird lately. "Because the last time you did that we ended up fighting invisible monsters with Vincent Van Gogh."

"Of course I'm trying to make you feel better, Amelia, now answer the question." The Doctor jumped up onto the main platform, joining Amy against the railing and tossing the tennis ball restlessly in his hands. "And in my defense, I didn't originally intend to visit good ole' Vincent. I saw the painting, and the trip sort of... happened."

"Don't they all?" Amy asked, smirking slightly.

The Doctor paused. "Oh, shut up," he said, before staring at the tennis ball with a furrowed brow—as if he had never seen it before. His gaze suddenly shot back to her as he randomly chucked the ball somewhere behind him. "Anyways, you still haven't answered. What did you and your little friends get up to in Leadworth?"

"Believe it or not, most of what we did revolved around stories about you," she replied with a laugh. She then noticed his expression, narrowing her eyes. "Don't give me that look, mister!" she exclaimed, slapping him.

He rubbed his arm good-naturedly, trying (and failing) to wipe a smug smile off of his face. "Well, besides that," he amended. Amy decided to play along, and began to wrack her brain. She hummed slightly—what were some antics she had got up to as a kid?

"Oh! There was this one time, we must've been fourteen or so, that we filled up a bunch of water balloons and hid up on…." She trailed off, furrowing her brow. "Whose roof was it?" she asked herself. She spent a moment in thought, before shrugging. "It must've been Melody's. Anyways, so when people would walk by, we would drop the balloons down and see who had the best aim. The neighbors were furious, and once the person walking by was actually Rory, and I hit him right in the—Doctor, are you okay?"

For the Doctor's eyes had grown huge. "What did you say?" he whispered.

She frowned. "I asked if you were okay."

"No, no." He turned to face her, hands gripping her biceps. His gaze bored into hers. "Before that. This is so important, Amelia, so, incredibly important. Who did you drop that water balloon on?"

She looked at him in confusion, sliding out of his grip. "Melody. I said Melody, right? It was a straight shot too, soaked her to the bone! She was so mad at me…" she trailed off, laughing softly. "Good times."

"Good times," the Doctor repeated in a whisper, seeming to deflate at her words. His eyes stared vacantly into the distance, shoulders slumped as though his highest hopes had been suddenly shattered.

But a moment later, he had pushed off the railing as energetic as always, leaving Amy to wonder if she had imagined the whole thing.

"Well, Pond," he announced, cranking a lever on the console. The TARDIS jerked. "How would you like to toss some more of these so-called water balloons?"

She pulled a face, banishing her thoughts of a melancholy Doctor—sending them to the dark corner alongside suicidal painters and cracks on bedroom walls. "What, seriously?"

He gave her a grin, latching onto the console as the TARDIS gave another violent stutter. "Why not? I've never done it before, and you know what I say about new things!"

She grinned back, waltzing up next to him. "And what do you say about new things?"

He opened his mouth, before pausing and snapping it shut. He tried again, thrusting a triumphant finger in the air, before frowning. Finally, he turned to her with a scowl. "I said you know what I say about new things. I never said I know."

Amy let out a laugh, which quickly turned into a yell of surprise as the TARDIS jerked to the side. "Bit—woah!—bumpy, isn't it?" she asked, raising her voice to compete with the engine's loud whirring. The flight only grew worse, shifting from side to side like a tilt-a-whirl on steroids. Sparks emitted from the panel, causing the Doctor to retract his hands with a string of alien words. "What are you trying to do?!" Amy yelled, gripping the console with white knuckles.

"It's…..just…London!" he exclaimed, pushing buttons and pulling levers frantically. He grabbed the scanner, holding on for dear life. "Why…..won't…..she…..land?!"

Nearly a minute later, the bucking and jerking finally ceased. The familiar settling sensation and quiet hum let Amy know that they had landed.

"Well," the Doctor started, straightening his bowtie. "There you have it. London. You'd think we were flying into a paradox with all the fuss she was kicking up." He clasped his hands, rubbing them in excitement. "Now then, where does one go to find water balloons?"

"I can't believe we are actually doing this," Amy announced half an hour later.

The Doctor lay on his stomach beside her, grinning as he surveyed the crowds below. They had set up camp on the roof of an old building, smack dab in the center of London. He grabbed the first water balloon from the full bucket between them, handing it to her. "Would you do the honors?"

Amy smirked in spite of herself, accepting the offered balloon and taking careful aim. "Geronimo."

The balloon whizzed to the ground, tumbling towards an unsuspecting businessman. It exploded upon its impact with the sidewalk in front of him, causing the man to jump back in fright as his pants were doused with an icy-cold spray. His head shot up as he cursed profusely, searching for the source of his misfortune.

The Doctor and Amy ducked back beneath the half-a-meter ledge running around the perimeter of the roof, trying to stifle their giggles. After a moment, Amy peeked over. Their victim spent a minute more yelling aimlessly at the sky, before picking up his dropped briefcase and stalking off.

"Oh. Oh, oh, oh, here we go." The Doctor grabbed a balloon, letting it fly. The next minute, an American tourist found herself soaked to the bone as a water balloon burst right over her head. She shrieked in surprise, jumping sideways into a crowd of commuting pedestrians.

"Oi!"

"Watch yourself!"

"Bloody tourists."

Their eyes widened as they watched the girl stumble through the indignant crowd, screaming all the while. "This reminds me of the time I met the Queen of Florida," the Doctor commented, staring at the girl intently.

"What? There is no Queen of Florida," Amy stated in confusion.

"Exactly," the Doctor answered absent-mindly, continuing to stare at the shivering tourist as she stomped down the street and out of sight. Amy waited for some sort of explanation, but after a couple minutes of silence she realized he wasn't planning on elaborating. She stared at him for a moment more, before shaking her head in bafflement and grabbing another water balloon.

"That man is so picking everyone's pockets," Amy announced, pointing to a short man who seemed to have the worst balance in London. He was stumbling into every other person on the street, brushing off their jackets and apologizing profusely.

"Water balloon," the Doctor commanded, extending his hand.

"There's no way you can hit him," Amy pointed out. "He's halfway down the block and on the other side of the street!"

The Doctor rolled his shoulder, giving her his dorky, overconfident smirk. "Just you watch me."

She narrowed her eyes skeptically, but nevertheless handed him a hefty red balloon. The Doctor bounced his hand a couple of times, as if gauging the water balloon's weight. He then squinted, closing one eye as he targeted the pickpocket. In one fluid motion, he stood to his feet and whirled his arm like a softball player, sending the balloon whizzing through the air.

As if in slow motion, the balloon soared over the street and made a beeline for its target. "No way," Amy gasped, watching its progress. Just as the pickpocket was about to stumble into another gullible victim, the balloon smacked him right in the face. He fell to the ground under the force of the throw, water streaming everywhere.

"Ha HA!" The Doctor raised his hands in the air, whooping in triumph.

Amy quickly grabbed one of his arms, yanking him to the ground. "Shut up, you big idiot," she said, shaking her head in amusement. "You're gonna get us caught!"

He just grinned, grabbing another balloon.

Amy and the Doctor continued to lob the water balloons downwards, feeling like little kids as they giggled and reveled in the chaos their little water-filled projectiles caused below. The didn't have to think about running, about saving the universe; the only alien-related problem being if Time-Lord biology played a part in the Doctor's nearly impeccable aim. ("No, Amelia, it does not! How hard is it to believe that I just happen to be good at these things? You know, Randy Barnes himself once said...)

And as the Doctor grabbed one of the final balloons from the bucket, several hours later, he felt truly content for the first time in a long time.

He should've known the lull wouldn't last.

"Oh! Get those two!" Amy exclaimed, pointing at a tall man in a trench coat and his red-headed lady friend. The Doctor peeked quickly over the ledge, before grinning and putting a finger to his lips. He gestured to the bucket—which while nearly void of balloons—was still halfway full of icy water.

Amy grinned, grabbing one side. The Doctor grabbed the other. "Ready?" he whispered conspiratorially. "Take aim," she announced, raising her voice.

"Now!" they both shouted, standing as one and dumping the contents on the couple below.

"OI!" the redhead yelled furiously, sputtering as she tried to shake off the chills.

"What?" the man exclaimed, his head darting in every direction possible. "What?!" he repeated.

Amy cracked up laughing, punching the Doctor in the arm. "That was brilliant! Oh, look at their faces!"

The Doctor followed Amy's advice and took a closer look at their faces. He then abruptly choked on his laugh, a strangled squeak emitting from his mouth. His eyes widened comically. No way.

"Doctor?" Amy asked, her own laugh subsiding at the shocked expression on his face. "You okay? What is it now?"

The Doctor didn't even hear her, staring dumbstruck at the whirling, furious duo below. At the textbook skinny frame, the gravity defying hair—at the fiery redhead, her loud shouts echoing as she yelled something about a martian…

And as the soaked man's gaze darted upwards, their eyes locked. The Doctor felt the connection, completing the man's thought—his own thought—in one, simple breath.

"What."

The Tenth Doctor was not having a normal day. There were no alien attacks, no running, no saving the universe….just himself and Donna popping around London, making fun of the current technology and munching on chips. And for him, that was anything but normal.

'Was' being the opportune word.

"OI!"

The Doctor jumped in surprise at Donna's shout, a split second before a splash of icy water gushed down his frame. "What?" he sputtered, spitting out a mouthful of the attacking liquid. The attack ended as fast as it had began, leaving two freezing time-travelers soaked on the sidewalk. "What?!" the Doctor repeated, spinning in place. His gaze darted in every direction as he whipped out his sonic screwdriver in defense.

"Oh, it'll be fine, Donna! It's London! Thanks for nothing, Martian boy!" Donna blustered with her usual gusto, shivering in the cold wind. "What, do you have a grudge match with a rain cloud now? Or no! It's an ancient life form wanting to take over the earth! Next thing you know, you'll be telling me that all rivers come from Mars!" she shouted, sarcasm dripping as thickly as her wet hair.

The Doctor stared at his screwdriver as a weird, buzzing noise began to emanate. He pointed it down, the noise fading. He pointed it up, and it grew louder. His eyes shot upwards, gaze quickly landing on a couple on the roof of the building above. A ginger headed girl—somewhere in her early twenties, was gripping a man's arm and staring at them. The (oddly familiar looking) man—that chin, blimey!—looked as though he was going to faint. Just as the Doctor opened his mouth, Chinny-boy voiced his exact thoughts. "What."

The Doctor looked down at his screwdriver, then back up at Ginger and Chinny. That buzzing, it meant…. "That's sonic technology," he exclaimed. "Those two have sonic technology on them!"

"What?" Donna followed his gaze to the couple above, rant momentarily forgotten. "How do you mean, sonic? Like that Adipose lady?"

"Exactly," the Doctor confirmed. He pointed his screwdriver at them, fiddling with the settings. "If I could just get a reading," he muttered.

"Doctor?"

"Hang on, Donna," he said, focusing solely on his screwdriver. "Almost got it…"

"Oi, Spaceman! They're getting away!"

"What?" His gaze shot up, just in time to see Chinny grab Ginger's wrist and pull her away from the edge of the roof with a final apprehensive glance. "Not on my watch!" he announced, flapping his coat for effect. "Allons-y!"

He took off running. Donna rolled her eyes, taking off after him. The duo ducked and dodged passing pedestrians, sprinting the sidewalk. The Doctor rounded the block, before making a 180-degree turn down a long alleyway running parallel to the sidewalk. Without so much of a pause, he took off in the direction they had just come from.

"C'mon, Donna!" he shouted back to his panting companion, picking up the pace. Finally, he slowed to a stop at the backside of an old, tall building—the same building their ambushers had been on top of.

"What…was….that?" Donna gasped, struggling to catch her breath. "We are exactly…. where we…..started!"

"Shush!" the Doctor commanded, semi-dried hair sticking up wildly. "We are behind exactly where we started."

She opened her mouth to retort, but a loud thump made her pause. She looked for the source, following the Doctor's pointing finger to the top platform of the fire escape. Chinny had apparently fallen down the first of a dozen or so ladders connecting the platforms, and was now getting to his feet indignantly. Without a word, the Doctor yanked her beneath the bottommost landing of the fire escape, effectively shielding themselves from view.

After a minute or so, Donna shivered and crossed her arms in a vain attempt to preserve body heat. It hadn't been so bad when they had been running, but now that they were standing still, she was definitely feeling the aftereffects of being soaked. Blimey, it was cold!

"Shush," the Doctor commanded again, his finger in the air.

"I didn't say anything," Donna protested in a whisper.

"You're shivering. It's loud," he whispered back.

"My shivering is—oh I'm sorry! Next time we get attacked by arctic alien water, I'll just skip straight to hypothermia, would that help?!" she whisper-shouted. "I'm soaking, and it is freezing!"

The Doctor gave one more cautious glance upwards. Ginger and Chinny were still several stories up. He sighed. "Humans."

"Oi!"

With one more exaggerated sigh, he pulled out his sonic and changed a few settings. He then waved the blue light over them both, drying their clothes instantly. Donna snatched it from his grasp, holding down the button with one hand while going through her hair with the other.

"It's not a hair dryer!" The Doctor protested. Donna gave him a cheeky smirk, switching hands. He pouted, then crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently. His eyes never left his precious screwdriver. After what felt like ages (but in reality was only a minute or so), Donna gave her hair a final fluff and dropped it into his outstretched hand.

Without skipping a beat, he pointed it straight up. There was a sudden clanging, and the ladder that connected the platform above them to the ground detached from the fire escape, crashing at their feet and leaving their assailants effectively trapped.

"Now then," the Doctor said with a bright grin. "Shall we?"

Donna took his arm, mirroring his cheery demeanor, and the pair of them stepped out of hiding and into plain view.

"Oi! You there! Can you give us a hand?" Ginger asked with a prominent Scottish accent, leaning over the railing of the lowest platform. "The ladder's busted!"

The Doctor donned a look of concern, squinting his eyes in faux confusion. "Oooo, is it? That's rather odd, isn't it?" He turned to Donna. "Is that odd?"

She nodded in affirmation. "Definitely odd."

They turned as one back to Ginger. "But you know what is even more odd," the Doctor said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Two people trapped on a fire escape—a private fire escape, mind you—who recently used some sort of alien liquid to terrorize two innocent Coppers."

"Coppers?" Chinny exclaimed incredulously as he joined Ginger at the railing.

The Doctor gave another wide grin, flashing his psychic paper. "Yup!" he declared exuberantly, popping the 'p.' "Detective Inspector John Smith, Scotland Yard. This is my partner, Penelope Clearwater."

Donna's eyebrows shot up. 'Penelope Clearwater?' she mouthed in bafflement, barely containing the urge to smack her alien dumbo upside the head. Ginger, meanwhile, gave them a strange look but seemed to accept their explanation. "Okaaaaay," she said, stretching out the word. "Amy Pond. Now are you gonna help us down or what?"

Donna set her hands on her hips. "Well, Amy Pond," she began, emphasizing her name. "First, I would like to know why the heck you attacked us!"

Amy rolled her eyes. "It was water, you idiot. Can't you take a joke?"

"Water," the Doctor repeated skeptically. "Just normal, everyday, earth water."

"Yes! What else would it be? Now get me down!"

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. Was he this rude? No wonder Donna was always slapping him! He complied nevertheless, picking up the ladder and leaning it against the landing. "Climb on down!" he called up, holding it steady.

Amy clambered down, straightening her miniskirt once her feet touched ground. The Doctor tilted his head back. "You coming, Chinny-boy?"

Chinny stared at him for a moment—before seeming to make up his mind. He then quickly made his way down the ladder, staring suspiciously at the Doctor all the while. Once he was safely on the ground, the Doctor turned his back on the group to lean the ladder against the building.

Once this was accomplished, the Doctor turned back to the gathering. He then nearly leapt out of his converse as Chinny—who he could've sworn had been several feet away—was now standing toe to toe with him. Without a word, the man extended a finger and poked the Doctor in the chest. The Doctor's eyebrows shot to his hairline as he rocked back on his heels, not resisting the slight push.

"No!" Chinny exclaimed, drawing back and beginning to pace. "No, no, nonono. No! You can't be here!"

"Says the bloke trespassing on the flippin' roof!" Donna shot back.

The Doctor held up a hand in a placating manner. "I can handle this, Penelope." He then turned back to Chinny. "But she does have a point. You're one to talk! You've been trespassing on the flippin' roof!" he exclaimed, last sentence sounding remarkably similar to Donna's voice. She scoffed, throwing her hands up in defeat.

"But!" the Doctor announced, thrusting a finger in the air. "That is not what I want to ask you about. I want to know why two people with sonic technology are resorting to attacking people with regular old, everyday, water. (Honestly, why would you do that?) I also must inform you that whatever plan you have for destroying this planet will ultimately be thwarted—well," he interrupted himself. "I say destroying the planet, but I really don't see how you could do that with water—well, I guess if you got enough of it you could—well—"

"Hang on," Amy said. "I thought you were with Scotland Yard?"

Without skipping a beat, the Doctor whipped out his psychic paper again. "So I did. We're part of the…err….E.T. department. Specialize in this sort of thing."

Chinny was still pacing. His jaw was working from side to side as he clasped and unclasped his hands, seeming to have ignored the entire exchange. "Why," he muttered, voice escalating. "Why, why, why, why?"

"What are you? A faulty record player?" Donna scoffed.

"No," Chinny said, finally coming to a stop in front of them. He fiddled with his ridiculous bowtie, and then rubbed his hands together. "You don't understand. This does not happen, this can not happen. You physically—historically—cannot be here! I'm here!"

The Doctor raised his eyebrows—and his hands—in defense. "I should probably mention that things don't always happen to me in the right order, so—"

Chinny let out a loud laugh. "Ha! I'll say!"

The Doctor squinted. "Now what's that supposed to mean? Who are you?"

Chinny's forced laughter stopped abruptly. "Ah! Yes! That's the question to ask! But never mind who I am, I'm leaving now. Come along, Pond."

Amy shot him a confused look as stepped to his side. The Doctor was having none of it, however, and quickly blocked their path. Donna came alongside him, crossing her arms.

"Now, now, hang on a tic. We still have a Great Big Problem," the Doctor announced, enunciating and emphasizing the last three words to convey the capitals. "You two still have some explaining to do. Namely, the sonic tech in your coat. This is a level 5 planet under my personal protection, and I'm not about to have you muck about the time streams with your futuristic technology all willy-nilly!" He furrowed his brow for a second, before leaning towards Donna. "Never let me say, 'willy nilly,' again," he muttered.

"Gladly," Donna nodded, still staring at Chinny and Amy.

"Mucking about time streams?" Chinny repeated incredulously, rounding on him again. "Oh, that's rich! That's just fantastic, coming from you of all people!"

The Doctor blinked at the word 'fantastic.' "Have we met?"

"NO!" Chinny exclaimed, arms flapping away once more. "That's just the point! I don't remember this!" Both Donna and Amy opened their mouths to intervene, but the two men's shouting made it impossible to get a word in edgewise.

"Remember what? Who are you?!" the Doctor asked, voice escalating with his frustration.

"Oh, as if you didn't know!" Chinny shot back irritably. "But why didn't she sense this when we landed? How did we land in the first place?" Chinny continued to monologue, raising his voice to compete with the Doctor's.

"Land? Land with what?!"

"I'm here, not you! Me!"

"Right! Listen here, I demand to know who you are!"

"Doctor!" Amy finally yelled in exasperation, nearly screaming the word in order to be heard.

"What?!" Both men yelled simultaneously, rounding on her as one.

Donna's jaw dropped. "You are kidding me," she gasped.

The Tenth Doctor's eyes met the Eleventh's.

"What—Seriously?" Ten asked, frustration quickly giving way to a fine mixture of mingled confusion, curiosity, and surprised delight. "Nooooo…."

"Ah, now he gets it—thanks for the help, Amelia. A bit slow, this one. Always worried about his hair," Eleven rambled, rocking on his toes.

Amy's gaze shot back and forth between the two Doctors. Finally, she took two long steps over to her Doctor and gripped his tweed-clad arm. "Doctor. Explain. Now."

Donna finally regained control over her jaw, snapping her mouth shut and inching towards her own Doctor. "Agreed," she managed to utter.

Eleven and Ten exchanged looks. "You wanna take this one?" Eleven asked hopefully, easing himself out of Amy's grasp.

Ten raised his eyebrows, waving a hand. "Nah, have at it."

Eleven glared at him for a moment, before muttering, "I knew he would say that." He then took a deep breath, clasping his hands and turning to Amy and Donna. "Okay, listen up kids. Short version: there's this thing that a Timelord does when he's dying. Basically, he renews every cell in his body and heals himself. But, it also triggers a change within the body, causing the Timelord to outwardly assume a different appearance. It's a lottery, really. New hair, new body, new personality…"

"New chin," Ten added nonchalantly.

"Oi!"

"But same memories," Ten finished, tapping his head for emphasis. "New face, but same man up here."

Donna stared at the pair of them for a minute, struggling to take it all in. "Hang on," she said slowly. "So he…is you."

"Yup."

"After you died," Amy added.

"Pretty much," Eleven answered.

"So at any time, you—" Donna pointed at Ten—"could get shot and turn into Chinny over here."

Ten scratched his the back of his head. "Well, depends on what regeneration he is, but theoretically—"

Donna slapped him on the arm. Hard.

"Ow!" he exclaimed. "What was that for?!"

"It never crossed your brilliant mind to tell me this?! You could've died back there in The Library and turned into this guy," she gestured to Eleven, "and I would be freaking out! For all I would've known, you could have been teleported into that parallel universe thing!"

Amy looked at Eleven. "She does have a point," she said, slapping him. "Why didn't you tell me this? Is this what just happens? You're running away from who knows what, and all of the sudden your companion finds themselves with a brand new Doctor?"

The two Doctors exchanged glances, both remembering Rose. "Not…..usually…" Eleven finally ventured. "But on occasion…"

"Oh, brilliant!" Donna exclaimed in exasperation, hands tossed in the air at the futility of it all.

"Hey, he's not so bad," Ten attempted to reassure her. "You know, aside from the chin. And the complete lack of fashion sense—sorry, but am I wearing a bowtie?"

"Oh! Look at you! Nine-hundred years old, think you're so cool...For your information, Matchstick Man, bowties are cool," Eleven declared, straightening it for effect.

"Matchstick…honestly! First Donna, now you—" Ten turned towards Amy. "Am I really that skinny?"

Amy gave him a once over. "Matchstick may be stretching it a bit," she announced.

"Thank you!" Ten exclaimed.

"Toothpick, on the other hand…" she continued thoughtfully.

"Ooo, I like you," Donna commented. Amy shot her a grin. Ten rolled his eyes and tried to change the subject. "So, which regeneration are you, then?" he asked the other Doctor. "Eleven or Twelve?"

"Eleven," Eleven confirmed, before squinting in confusion. "Wait, no. Twelve. Wait—oh, I don't know, you screwed it all up."

"What do you mean, 'I don't know?!'" Ten exclaimed. "There's only two options!"

Eleven shook his head with a slight smirk. "Things get…complicated. Bit timey-wimey, very wibbly-wobbly. It's all very confusing, just you wait."

"Hang on, rewind," Donna interrupted, finger in the air. "Are you telling me that there are twelve of you running around?" she asked incredulously.

"That's a scary thought," Amy muttered, crossing her arms.

"Well, we don't usually meet up. Actively avoid it, actually," Ten explained.

"Exactly. The paradox is unbelievable messy—could cause the universe to explode," Eleven said.

"What?!" Donna exclaimed at the same time that Amy asked, "Then what the heck are we doing here?!"

"My question exactly," Ten said, running his fingers through his hair. "It's not my fault, you two are the future crew. You, Doctor, should remember this, but you obviously don't. Why?"

Eleven rubbed his temples. "I've been asking myself that ever since I saw you, but the only explanation I can think of is that one of us blocked the memory. But why would I do that?"

"Hang on...The universe would explode if two of you met up, is that what you said earlier?" Donna asked. "Then why hasn't it yet? We've been chatting for a good half-hour, and nothing has happened."

Both Doctors stopped and stared at her intensely, causing her to raise her hands in defense. "Oi! Don't space-stare me, I was just asking! Not my problem that I can't come up with some huge, Martian explanation like you two can!"

"No, no, Donna," Eleven murmured. "That's—"

"Brilliant," Ten finished for him. "That is an absolutely brilliant point!"

"Seriously?" Amy asked. "I mean, we are standing here. I would've thought that bit was rather obvious. No offense, Donna," she clarified.

"None taken," Donna assured her.

"Don't you see it, though?" Eleven asked. "The universe hasn't exploded yet! Which means…"

"Something big happens," Ten interrupted again. "Something that the universe—"

"Needs two of us to fix," Eleven finished.

"Okay, that's getting a bit creepy," Donna murmured to Amy, who stifled a giggle. The two Doctors were acting like proper twins, finishing each other's sentences without even realizing it. "Do you think they even realize they're doing it?" Amy murmured back.

"Doing what?" both Doctors asked simultaneously.

"Not a clue," Donna announced, answering Amy's question. "All of time and space, and we both get stuck with the dumbest genius in the galaxy."

Amy and Donna laughed outright, while the two Doctors continued to look perplexed. "What's so funny?" Eleven asked. The look of genuine confusion on his face just caused them to laugh harder. "I hate it when they do this," Ten muttered, remembering Sarah Jane and Rose doing something remarkably similar. Apparently, Eleven was thinking something along the same lines, and they shared a brief, nostalgic smile.

However, after a few minutes of high-pitched whispers and ensuing fits of laughter, Eleven had had enough. "Look, ladies, I'm thrilled that you're getting on so well. Really, I am. But as my matchstick of a former self so kindly pointed out, something Big and Bad is about to happen, and—"

The Doctor's sentence was interrupted (or punctuated, depending on how you look at it) by a deafening POP! sounding from above.

A concussion rippled through the air, shattering windows on impact and causing the foursome to stagger.

"What was that?" Donna asked, head angled to the sky along with the rest of London. A huge, silver ship came into view, gleaming in the sunlight. It shot through the air, belching smoke from its side. "You sure you don't remember this?" Ten asked nervously, eyes shooting between the spaceship and the other Doctor.

"It's not slowing down," Eleven murmured worriedly, ignoring Ten's question."It's gonna crash!" Amy gasped, following its progress downwards.

The ground suddenly shook with a distant boom, the shockwave of the ship hitting Earth. Smoke began to rise over the London skyline, bellowing from the point of impact. Sirens were already starting up all over the city, the emergency services rushing to the crash sight.

"Do you know who the ship belon—Doctor?" Amy cut off her question, and her head whipped around. Her gaze finally landed on two figures sprinting down the alleyway, sonic screwdrivers outstretched.

Her eyes then found Donna, who was rolling her own eyes in exasperation. "And he's off again," she announced in resignation. Amy gave the slightly older woman a sidelong glance. "We are going to follow them, right?"

Donna pulled a face. "Two Doctors—and an Alien crash in the middle of London."

Without another second of hesitation, the two girls took off running after their Doctors—mixed calls of "Allons-y!" and "Geronimo!" ringing through the street.

-TBC-