It's all AU.

John woke up in his hotel room to find the Doctor had left. Not really a huge surprise. He stretched out languidly and yawned loudly. Well, everything else seemed to have stayed where it was put, which was always a bonus in John's life. Lifting up his right hand he saw it was crisscrossed with bruises and scuffs from where he had punched the bar. Lifting up his left arm to join his right he took in the marks from the cuffs from the night before, and he grinned. He leant over the bed and picked up his pistols from the pile of his things on the floor. He sat up on the bed, and practiced pulling the guns, until he was satisfied that his aim and draw wasn't hindered. Good.

He swung his feet round and jumped to the floor. Padding around the room, he began wondering where he would have imagined clean clothes would be kept. His eyes wandered, until they alighted on a small chest of drawers in the far corner. He pulled out a clean black vest t-shirt. He ignored the jeans in there, his own were more 'broken in', and he felt a lot more comfortable in them.

He got dressed quickly, strapping his weapons back on, affixing his wriststrap, and pulling on his boots. Walking over to the fridge, he pulled out the remaining bottle of hyper-vodka. Breakfast. He shrugged on his jacket, and he was good to go. It was time to see what this place had to offer up.

Walking out of the hotel lobby into daylight, he grinned broadly. From what the Doctor had told him this place sounded like a madhouse. Just John's kind of place. First things first, he wanted to track Jack, any Jack, down. He wandered into what seemed like a town square, and sat down at a bench. Uncorking the bottle, he took a large swig, as he considered his plan of action. Head swung back, he didn't see the figure that walked up to him until he put the bottle back down. He barked out a laugh, as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

"Ahh, well that's one problem solved."

The Master scowled, running a hand through his hair as he glared down at the sketch he was working on. Schematic drawing, really. For a laser screwdriver, like the prototype he had at home. Except that there was something missing.

He leaned back in his chair, throwing the pencil across the room, listening to it clatter against the wall behind the bar with a faint smile on his face. At least it wasn't all a waste.

A movement at the door caught his attention, and he smiled slightly. "Just a bit frustrated," he offered in explanation. No apology, never an apology.

The Master got the hell of the warehouse, bandaged his neck up, and went looking for Jack. He was going to give himself a little time, before he started actually making noise, but he was considering it. If the vampire realized that not all the Time Lords in town carried something that could deal out pain a laser screwdriver could - Well, that scarcely bore thinking about. He wanted Jack's input.

Fortunately, he tilted his head up as he walked along, and saw Jack on a roof. He was beginning to be able to feel that this was his Jack. So he went to go talk to him on the roof.

The Doctor was sitting at a table outside a cafe with a plate piled high with pastries and buns. Oh, and a pot of tea. He'd had a huge fight with Jack about not having told him he was immortal and coming home stinking of Jack's ex-lover, neither of which he'd been able to justify very well, and Jack had stormed out on him, leaving him feeling confused and guilty.

He'd pottered around the TARDIS for a while, but he'd ended up slinking along here to see if large amounts of sugar and tea would sort him out.