It's all AU.

He'd finally sucked up the courage to go and find Jack. That gun was burning a hole in his pocket and he'd had enough of thinking about it. Time to act.

There was no answer at the other TARDIS when he knocked, but he reckoned everyone had to come home some time. So he sat down on the pavement nearby, leaned back against the wall, and waited.

The Master and the Doctor were. Chasing each other over rooftops with fencing foils. Not the deadly weapons they fought with earlier, because they knew they wanted to run run and they didn't want anyone hurt if they slipped. But the contest, the game, was there. Mostly it was just fun.

The Doctor was pleased to discover he was still the better swordsman, although he wasn't terribly intent on *winning* quite yet. Still, one thing the same. He skidded to a halt and called down a hello to Jack before ducking the Master's next strike. Showing off a bit.

After he'd found the Doctor's Ninth regeneration and punched his lights out Jack felt better. After curling up on that TARDIS, with that Doctor, and without sex and romance and complications, Jack felt better equipped to deal. So, he grabbed his coat, stopped by the hotel lobby for a cup of coffee and a muffin, and headed toward the TARDIS with the new Master.

He let himself in just as he finished his impromptu breakfast, and immediately set his cup down. "Morning," he said, as carefully casual as he could manage.

Jack approached the Doctor he'd first known and tapped him on the shoulder.

When he turned around Jack threw a hard right hook that caught him right across the jaw.

"And that, you son of a bitch, is for turning into an even crazier bastard than you already were, who ran away and left me to rot."

Issues, what?

Rose was human and not psychically sensitive. She also hadn't gone looking for her TARDIS-mates, content with her own company for the day.

She was sitting licking an ice cream cone in the park, and didn't know a damn thing.

Theta located a long coat. He tugged at the sleeve, then, in a gesture he was really, far too old for, held up both of his arms to be picked up. He looked, and was, tired and clingy.

He'd failed.

( Cut for length )

He followed after the Master and Doctor, because he'd wanted away as much as they had. He hadn't said another word, hadn't made another sound. Shock was protecting him from pain and muddling his thought processes. He hadn't even taken his gun back from the other Doctor. After having been shot with it, he wasn't eager to get it back; though he would later.

He wasn't sure where they were going, and he was so focused on watching the man who was still the Master, but had once been someone very different, that he didn't even notice where they were *going* until they were there. One foot in front of the other, locked in his head, watching and listening.

The Master watched the cameras that showed the lobby, toying with his fork impatiently before taking another bite of the dinner he'd sat down to when the remodeling was finished. Where was...

A smile spread across his face, watching the revolving door start to spin. He leaned back in his seat, transferring the view of the lobby - dimly lit and small as it was now - to the large screen directly in front of him. Peeling paint over flaking plaster for walls, and a dusty concrete floor with some scraps of carpet still glued down.

He waited until they were all inside before activating the one-way com on the receptionist's desk - painted particle board and plastic, to match the rest of the decor - directly across from the door.

"Welcome to my home, gentlemen, Lady Romana. I must say, I didn't expect quite this turnout. Now, I shan't keep you long, it's a bit of a puzzle ahead of you before we meet face to face.

"As you can see, two passages to your left, one and a lift to your right, and two behind the desk. Only one of them actually leads to where I'm sitting right now. Good luck on figuring out which one. Oh, and do mind your step."

He flicked off the com, settling back in his chair to watch their progress. With any luck, there would be some entertainment to be had before he had to play the polite host.

It wasn't until Jack coughed back into life that the Doctor realised that he'd never seen it happen before. He'd heard about it, here, but this was the first time he'd seen it, and it shook him to the core. The extreme wrongness of it. The way it went so completely against nature - not life rushing out of a body the way it should, but into it. He was shaking as he resisted the urge to run, run away from this abhorrence of nature and bent to gather the newly-woken, confused and terrified Jack into his arms.

It took a while of just holding Jack - sitting on the floor and leaning back against the bed with Jack practically in his lap, rocking him like a child - to calm him into coherence. But eventually calm came, and Jack was able to tell the Doctor what had happened. There then followed a period of self-recrimination from the Doctor which Jack promptly put an end to by straddling him and kissing the hell out of him.

No way the Doctor could continue to think with Jack kissing him like that.

The Master glanced up from his notebook, and spotted Jack. He scooped the notebook up, hopped up from his perch under a tree, and came up to fall into step beside him.

"There you are. Now I don't have to suppress the neurotic impulse to go looking." He was teasing. Mostly.

He eyed the Doctor for several long moments, thinking about the warning he'd gotten. Then he shrugged, walked up to him, grabbed him by the lapels of his coat, and stuck his tongue half-way down his throat.

Easiest way in the world to figure out what was going on.

Well. To Jack.

The Doctor was settled, cross legged on the TARDIS console floor. Mentally wrapped up in his ship, and just sort of. Breathing with her. One of his little strategies to keep himself from burning out.

Jack was filthy - dirt smuged on his face and hands, outter shirt unfastened and his white undershirt was grimey. He walked into the hotel, flopped down in a chair with a low groan of relief. "I am too old for this shit," he announced, and worked a hand between himself and the chair to press against his back. He arched against that hand, his back cracked and he groaned again.

Ianto did not have his tie. He did not have his belt. He did, however, have a smug expression and a jaunty whistle as he wandered out of the hotel with two cups of coffee.

He offered one to Jack like he'd expected to see him. (He hadn't) "Coffee, Jack?"

Jack was sitting in the floor, in the hall just outside the console room. The lights were low, his knees were up toward his chest, and he was reading a book.

Jack had talked to Jamie and John. He'd done the hopscotch thing. He was tired, now. Not exhausted, but he'd used up his social-ness, and wanted to go home. In this place that meant one thing: The TARDIS.

He let himself in, sprawled out in the captain's chair, found himself amused by the irony and appropriateness, and stared at the ceiling.

Jamie woke up with his face buried against the back of John's neck, arms around him and basically locked on to the other man like the jaws of life. He groaned, grumbling as he woke.

The Master was feeling rather at peace with himself and the world. It wasn't a feeling he was very used to these days and he was making the most of it, wandering along beside the lake, on the other side to where he normally went, enjoying the sunshine (or what passed for it) and the sound of the wind in the trees, water lapping at the shore, and, well. Being thoroughly sentimental.

When he heard footsteps coming in the other direction, he didn't even tense up. He greeted Jack with a happy smile. "Good afternoon, Captain! Lovely day, isn't it?"

Jack was sitting in a corner of the lobby, back against the wall and well away from the windows. There was a cup of coffee and glass of water in front of him, both untouched. His head was leaned back against the wall, and he was completely lost in thought. He stayed that way until he spotted Rose. Then he blinked a couple of times and smiled, slightly. "Hey, darling."

He startled and gasped when he woke up. That meant he wasn't biting down on the Doctor's throat anymore, but it also meant that throwing his hands up in front of his face smacked the shit out of the Doctor.