It's all AU.

The door to the office was open, faint music playing from hidden speakers, tea with all the frills laid out on the table next to the window. Little knick-knacks and a handful of pictures scattered on the shelves among the books, a sleek, small computer on the desk, all the small details that he loved when setting a scene.

A stage waiting for the players to take their places and the game to begin.

He plucked a book from the shelf, one with a bookmark in it, and settled into one of the chairs to wait, fingers loosely curled around a tea-cup, to all appearences lost in his reading. Waiting for the ploy with Lucy to bear fruit, after some fashion or another.

The Master methodically shredded leaves, leaning back against the trunk of the tree he sat in, one leg dangling off the side of the broad branch underneath him. Quiet, and faintly aware that his fingers were moving in time to the distant pounding at the back of his mind. Struggling against the instinct to go searching for Jack after he woke up alone.

Alone for the third morning in a row, here, and having hunted around town for the last two days, searching for his Jack. He suspected that this place had sent him home, because he just couldn't accept that Jack might be hiding. Not from him.

With an irritated sound, he flung the leaves he'd been shredding away, and slid off the branch to drop to the ground. Meeting the gaze of the person standing there, he scowled, snapping, "What?"

There was something about new jeans that just made Jack relax more. New, comfortable jeans that also made his ass look the promised 25 (he still wasn't sure if that was age or a score out of 10) were even better.

He'd still got the coat, but he'd abandoned the formality of slacks, shirt, braces and vest in favor of those jeans and a t-shirt.

He was feeling pretty nostalgic.

Which probably explained why he'd gone in search of a TARDIS and, having tracked one down, was stroking her casing gently, forehead resting against the wood in silent communication.

From an outside perspective, it probably looked incredibly odd.

He'd had a good shag, a good sleep, and he'd sorted things out with Jack. Even if he was still a bit moody about this place and the people in it and not being able to get away, he was feeling better.

He went and found the carousel he'd magicked out of thin air, sat on a horse and rode the thing, round and round and round, all by himself. Grinning like a madman.

Lucy was gazing at the noticeboard in the hotel lobby, fascinated by the chart one of the Jack's had posted there and the answers the others had given.

"A hundred and ninety-six?" she read aloud, breathlessly.