The Doctor woke up bleary, his mouth dry and that stuffed cotton, not quite a headache, hungover feeling in his head. One too many daquiris it was, then, last night. He opened his eyes. Strange bed, must be in the hotel. That's right, they had decided the TARDIS has seemed too much of a walk. But now,he was in a strange bed that had no one else in it, bleck. Oh, but then his hand fell on a piece of paper, which he held up and saw read:
Gone for a walk. Later. - M.
Well, that was a good sign. If the Master had gone off in one of his weird defensive moods, he wouldn't have left a note. He just must have woken up with too much energy to keep still. He climbed out of bed, straighten his clothing out, intent on get some tea from the hotel diner before he did anything else.
But then he heard screaming in very familiar voice, and he took off running in that direction. Skid to a halt in front of the door it seemed to be coming from and flung it open.