It's all AU.

Jack had been wandering about, trying to shake off thoughts about a version of himself who had never been made immortal and who had died. And how it had affected those who loved him.

It wasn't something he'd thought about much, when he had still been mortal, even though he'd lived in danger most of his life since joining the Time Agency.

He was thinking about it now, though.

He ended up at the lake. Decided to distract himself with something physical, stripped off, and went for a swim.

The Master glared at the closing doors of the TARDIS, entirely not in the mood for fake bounciness. He gathered himself up to follow his companions when he nearly crashed to his knees as months of memories slammed into him.

"No. No. This isn't fair," he hissed. He got back to his feet, flew out of the TARDIS, and was greeted with, irony of ironies, a newly once again familiar alley. "Oh, that is. That is. Not funny in the slightest, do you hear me?" he shouted up at the sky. Nearly in tears.

John had slept well, curled up with Jamie in his hotel room. He'd woken refreshed, and wanting to go on a wander. He decided to leave Jamie sleeping for now. So he'd dressed, and had written him a note, complete with his looping scrawl:

"Jame, 
Gone down to the hotel bar. Help yourself to food and goodies in the fridge if you want. Stay tonight? Yours,  J "

He kissed the card, and propped it up on the bedside table. He set off to the lift, heading towards the bar.

~

Leaning over the bar, John grabbed a bottle, uncorked it, and took a long swig. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Using the brass bar fittings for leverage, he swung up until he was sitting up crosslegged on the bar itself. Fishing his link chain of useful metal tools out from the concealed pocket in his boot, he whistled loudly, trying to get the attention of one of the bardroids.

"C'mon darlin', come to papa, I wanna' see who made you beauties."

The Doctor was sitting on park bench reading a book. He looked up as someone approached. With a little trepidation for who he might meet from centuries in his future, this time.

"Oh. Oh that just can't be normal."

He was squatted down, elbows resting on his thighs and hands half over his face, peering at the tree he and the Master had turned silver. It was a bit more silver that it had been, gleaming in the sunlight. It wasn't the problem. The problem was the squirrell that was sitting, upright on it's haunches, a few feet away from the Doctor, chattering angerily. It was a problem because it was orange - really, really, orange- and its tail was rainbow striped.

Jack stood in the window of the shop he'd got his coat from. He took the coat off and draped it back around the shoulders of the mannequin who'd worn it before him.

"Suits you better than me, buddy," he said softly, patting the mannequin on the shoulder, and turned away to find a different coat.

Perhaps a jacket. Something shorter and lighter.

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?"

Jack had been back to the TARDIS and finally found the Doctor there at the same time. They'd talked and cleared up a few misunderstandings and then done a few other things...

And in the morning, Jack had kissed the Doctor good-bye and headed out. He picked up a cup of coffee and a box of donuts and settled with them on the grass in the park and sat there, happily munching.

Jack pinned the big piece of paper with his survey chart on up on the notice board in the lobby of the hotel, stuck a couple of marker pens in the tray at the bottom, and stood back to make sure everything was there.

( The Survey – cut for length )

It all seemed to be there. Jack nodded, and went off to the TARDIS to get some sleep.

He was stretched out on a couch in the main lounge, ankles crossed and hands behind his head. The window behind him was open, and there was just enough of a breeze coming through to ruffle the pages of his book. He glanced over the top of it when someone walked in, flashed a quick smile and said, "Hey."

It was obviously some version of him, and it was obviously not some version he'd met before.

Jack had slept (some), adjusted, settled, worked through his hangover (emotional and physical), and decided to greet the new day by...well. Standing on a roof. He hadn't indulged in a while, and it helped to clear his head.

He stood on the edge of the roof, toes of his boots over the guttering, and stared across the hotchpotch skyline, not looking back when he heard footsteps behind him. "If you're thinking about pushing me," he said conversationally, "I'm gonna come back and haunt you. And I make one hell of a corporeal ghost."

Jack had bought the coat, and the shirts and trousers and braces that had been neatly folded next to it, but he hadn't put them on yet.

He was sitting outside a cafe drinking a cup of coffee, the new clothes on the seat of the chair next to him and the coat draped over the back.

Jack was gazing into the window of a clothing store, at a mannequin wearing what appeared to be an exact replica of the coat the older Jack had been wearing.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Methos drew in a deep breath, looking up at the sky a moment. Clear, pale sky, like every day he'd been here last time. Not particularly appealing, in his current mood. He snorted, walking away from the little Egytian beer-house that he'd ducked into again that morning for a nearly-forgotten breakfast and beer.

He wandered down the street, humming a little ditty to himself, peering into the shops as he went. Nothing interesting... well, unless you counted people reflected in the window. He raised an eyebrow slightly, turning around slowly, hands still in his pockets.

"Captain Harkness," he said evenly, a small half-smile on his face.

Jack hadn't really expected to bump into the Doctor again so soon, but when he came across him sitting all alone outside a cafe he sighed, swallowed the last of the burger he'd been eating, and pulled out the chair opposite him.

"Hey," he said, sitting down with a faint, apologetic grin.

Jack strode along the street, fuming, bewildered, frightened and generally upset as hell. His hands were fisted in his jacket pockets, his jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes were wild.

The Doctor had come home eventually and they'd talked. Well. Shouted. A lot. Eventually, the Doctor's self-righteous justifications had just got too much for Jack and for once he'd been the one to leave. Stumbled out of the TARDIS and into the street, wandering randomly while his head tried to deal with everything he'd discovered the last few days.

Jack turned suddenly and thumped his fist against the wall of a building, then leaned his head against his forearm and... slumped.

Jack had found another TARDIS. He examined it from the outside for a bit but it looked - and felt - incredibly like his Doctor's.

He gave up and knocked on the door. If no-one was in, he might just consider seeing if his key worked...

Jack swaggered into the hotel bar. "Anyone bored and looking for fun?" he asked outrageously, with an irresistible grin. "Because if so, this is your lucky night!"

Jack was exploring, still investigating the new place and its ihabitents. He'd come to the conclusion that there were enough people there to keep him occupied for a fair while.

He was window shopping in a main street when he came across a rather attractive blond guy gazing into the window of an antiques shop, and he abruptly started people-shopping instead. He ambled up to the man, leaned rakishly against the window and offered his hand.

"Captain Jack Harkness. And you are?"

Jack wandered into the dining room and smiled round at the people already there. "Anyone here named Ianto Jones? Failing that, anyone else fancy having dinner with me?"