"Ah," Yusuf says, lifting a reproving hand, "are we calling less than 24 hours of memory loss amnesia now?"

In a world without stars, the Last Centurion loses the Pandorica, loses his charge and loses his mind.

SHIELD takes a chance on hiring a mysterious amnesiac man, and Agent Coulson finds that Rory Williams is the best damn secretary he's ever had.

God, it must have been terrible, to think that he would never have this again.

Wherein Mike is Merlin reincarnated, Harvey is Arthur, everybody else is everybody else, and they fall in love. Again.

After pining for longer than he'd care to admit, Arthur asks Merlin out and gets more than he expected.

When Harry starts to have erotic dreams about his godfather, he questions his sexual preference. The real issue turns out to be even more complicated and disruptive. Then there's Draco.

Erik is a fisherman who lives in a cottage by the sea; it's a quiet, secluded life, and he enjoys it that way. Charles has a bump on his head, with no memory of why he was dangling off the side of a dock, unconscious and nearly frozen to death.

"You shall be king for a year and a day," she said, putting a cool finger on his lips.

He had not even considered Merlin's execution an option, and the knowledge settles like a stone in his gut.

Merlin paused. Good Lord, if Arthur remembered this conversation once his memory was restored, the fact that Merlin had attempted magic would be the least of his worries.

The parking lot behind Camelot looked safe and ordinary again in the midday sun, just genre:cracked asphalt and a couple of beat-up old cars.

Arthur thanked providence, or whatever looked out for fools and the princes that cared for them, that his father hadn’t sent anyone to check Merlin’s room for magical items. Yet.

"If he does not return within these walls before sunset, no mortal power can bring him back to Camelot, and he will ride with the Hunt forever."

Kirk was born in space, he sleeps best there. Lately, though, he has felt a new kind of restlessness in his bones. His sleep is interrupted by dreams, by reliving moments of a life that isn’t his.

"There is only one truly effective and permanent love potion, Miss Black. You won't find it in books, because it is difficult, deeply personal, and useless."

Arthur had been taught right from wrong and this, this was wrong!

He's not himself. Then, though his face doesn't move in the here and now, he feels himself give a low, soft chuckle. He hears it, and doesn't recognize the sound. Then the older Kirk claps his shoulder and squeezes it and says through the laughter, "Spock, you didn't really think I--"

There was something devastatingly cute about the mix of wide brown eyes, pale skin, pointed ears, and neat hair cut when packaged in a body barely over three feet tall and swimming in a blue science uniform top and dark undershirt that was entirely too big for his body.

He wakes up with Spock's hand on his hip. Naked hip. Huh. Well, this is interesting.

Then that particular group of girls who always sit together—and out of all there's only one he thinks is hot but she never looks up at the right time—sitting next to Heineken, a broody kid who takes his skateboard to class, and whose real name is forever lost due to a supposed incident during first year introduction that involved a beer bottle, an unsavoury way of putting it to use and a partner too drunk to care.

It was just after midnight on a Sunday in June. Merlin’s life was about to change forever, but he didn’t know it yet.

L dislikes: socks; uniforms; spinach; driving; having to carry heavy objects; large, exuberant dogs with muddy paws; people who talk in the cinema; pan pipe renditions of popular hits; getting rained on; durian; cabbage; criminals.

Jim’s first thought upon waking is that everything has gone completely, mysteriously, and catastrophically pink.

Gwen and Lancelot cannot be allowed to get away with their betrayal of Arthur.

"I’m going to be an astronaut." She says it so confidently that Donna would be jealous, if it weren’t so ridiculous to be jealous of a ten-year-old.

The one where Chris has stupid glasses and a lot of paperbacks, Zach knows too much for his own good, there are at least two lap dances, and everybody wants to sleep with Dorothy Parker.

"Quinto Mad Libs," Cho says. "My date was: mean adjective, meaner adjective, devastating five-syllable mean adjective."

"Here," said Sir Godfrey, who was the worst of the lot, "I shall draw some diagrams for you. You there, fetch me a quill, boy."

And Merlin, Court Sorcerer, who was probably enjoying himself too much at Arthur's expense to be bothered about being addressed as "you there", fetched.

Apparently Arthur's reaction to dropping acid is that he remembers.

Everything.

The last thing Spock ever remembers is a mission going horribly wrong.

Watson has had to take a brutal course in being honest with himself so nothing Holmes says will ever be a surprise.

Lying next to the milk bottle was a dead sparrow.

Everything's just fine and beautiful between the world's most lovely mutants. No, really. It is.

Life for Charles has become very confusing, but it continues nevertheless.

Charles wakes up to find he's been in a coma for two years, and the world he thought he lived in is a lie. He's still a professor of genetics, but there are no such thing as mutants, there is no such person as Erik Lehnsherr. But why can Charles still read minds?

After you're awake, the first person to visit you is a family lawyer, or maybe he said he was your family lawyer, you're not sure.

"But really, you think I'd leave my best friend without a defense mechanism? She's all right. She's fine. She's asleep."

Arthur thinks the space-time continuum is messing with him, but perhaps it's actually making things the way they're meant to be.

Donna's begun having terrible headaches, and Shaun struggles to help her.