It's all AU.

This was getting ridiculous. He should be calm. He was not upset, confused, annoyed, or angry like he has been so much of the time since he'd been dumped him here. That was all sorted. Mostly. Some of it possibly to be returned to at a later date. Ok, probably, but he'd handle that when it came to him.

Being sorted, however, had just given him more time for his mind to idle. The Doctor was already beginning to get restless. The TARDIS, poor thing, had made it known they should both stop poking at her, thankyouverymuch. Much love, ta - that was the vibe.

He was about ready to just start cataloging all the flora and fauna, just because. Or try to get everyone together and pin descriptive name tags on them. That would probably never actually happen, but it would at least be useful.

He milled around the hotel, and eventually stepped into the ballroom. Had this been here before? He glanced around the mirrored walls, considering possibilities. Then he saw someone, or the reflection of someone, out the corner of his eye.

The Master had wandered down to the lake again, searching for a bit of peace and quiet. A nice stretch of still water often had a calming effect on the drums. He'd had a lovely holiday with Lucy once in the Lake District – the drums had been the quietest he'd known them since before the destruction of Gallifrey.

He stood at the edge of the lake near where he had met Professor Yana and gazed out across the water, letting the peace soak into him.

The Doctor looked around as he stepped out of the TARDIS, a small frown of consternation on his face. Anne was going to slap him when she saw where he'd landed the TARDIS this time. Though it wasn't as if he'd planned to end up in men's loo. It was just where the old girl had landed.

He turned around to warn his companion of the issue, raising his eyebrows when he saw nothing but blank, tiled wall. At least he didn't have to worry about her stepping out into the loo. He'd like to know where his TARDIS had gotten off too, and who'd managed to deposit him in a twenty-first century men's loo instead of Torchwood's underground lair, though.

Shaking his head, he turned back, pulling open the door, and stepped out into a pub, looking around with interest. It looked like a nice British pub, maybe one in Cardiff if he was lucky. And not too far off from where his TARDIS had landed, in space and time. Though he'd still like to know how that had happened, him stepping out somewhere and possibly somewhen other than where his TARDIS had landed.

He stepped up to the bar, leaning against it, and watching the bartender. Not human, which meant his first hope was out the window. They didn't have robotic bartenders by the time he was aiming for.

"Excuse me," he asked the person next to him, "you wouldn't happen to have the date?"

All right. Dwelling on what he could not do, wouldn't do him any good. He'd just end up in an even more vile temper, and still not be able to change the situation.

Better to list things he could do. Lists were good - a simple organizing principle which, when employed, could imbue meaning on the most random of things.

1. He could pick a spot, and try to simply hide out until he was sent back home. The town didn't seem crowded enough that he couldn't avoid people if he really wanted. Safe, but boring.

2. He could look for whatever had killed Jack, before it got to anyone else - like himself. Oh, but he'd been so thrown to see Jack come back to life, he'd forgotten to ask the Captain if he'd seen what had attacked him. Well, that had been a brilliant move on his part. Whatever it was might be sated now. But Jack had looked so deliberately mauled - he knew all too well that kind of killer wasn't likely to stop with one victim.

3. He could try to walk out of the town, to see how far he could go.

4. He'd just passed a hotel. He could get lunch, and take a nap. Call this day a wash, and hope tomorrow sat better with him.

Actually, that last one sounded like an excellent idea. But he might try number three after that. He wandering into the hotel, hoping he could get through a meal without meeting someone who might want to shoot him on sight. He'd have to shoot them first - and the smell of laser on flesh would really kill his appetite.

He was too curious for his own good, Connor supposed. There was no other reason for why he kept trying to find a way back. His father, Holtz, had missed the world he'd come from which was why he had started trying; truly trying, from the moment Connor turned sixteen, until now. Holtz had told Connor enough about it and about his family that it should have made Connor want to go back there too.

Except, just like the Quor'toth, that world had demons. However much Holtz had assured him it was unique, that the Quor'toth was merely the worst of the worst - a hell dimension - and true demons really walked among humans, and yet humans needed protection from them. Connor found the idea hard to stomach. Demons that played at being human, that were even accepted and looked upon as being human, which was enough to make his stomach churn. At least in the Quor'toth, demons looked and acted as they were, showed their malevolent nature. He preferred his demons as he could see them, had had to fight them every day of his life, and wasn't willing to try and chase one out from behind its human mask.

So he could only put his stubborn attempts to return to that world down to one thing: challenging Angel, making him pay for what he'd done to Holtz's family. Proving along the way that he was nothing like the animal Angel was. As the first waves ripped through him, making the hairs on his arms stand on end, he stared down at the portal forming below him. Eyes closing, he had a moment to place his hand on his wrist and check his weapon was still firmly held there before he felt himself falling.

He landed as quickly as he'd dropped, static still playing along his arms, blood still pounding in his ears. The Hyperion hotel, or so he believed. But when he looked up, the 'hi, dad' was stifled on his lips, body stiffening as wariness flooded through him.

He wasn't where he'd meant to be. Was he?

He was beginning to think that this nexus was just a natural phenomenon, although a very weird one. In which case, he probably would just have to sit tight and wait until he was sent home. Waiting was never his strong suit. He always fidgeted too much. Being stuck in one place and time made it worse. He'd think too much about what he could be missing. And what could be going wrong elsewhere while he waited.

The Master was the one who could stay in one place for months on end, all in anticipation of the grand finale of his latest scheme. Although, the Master was prone to taking short cuts without considering the consequences he didn't intend. The Master was probably doing that back in 2007 right now because he wasn't there to tell him what an idiot he is, the Doctor thought with a mixture of fondness and worry. Oh, he was starting in on the worrying already wasn't he?

Well, the easiest way to distract himself was to find someone else interesting to talk to. There was no telling who he would run into next, here! Maybe he should head towards the hotel down the street? There was bound to be people there, and, somehow, sleeping in the TARDIS didn't seem very appealing this evening.

The Master took the oppotunity to slip away while the Doctor went to check her assertation that the TARDIS wasn't registering any time. She'd much rather explore, and see if this was a suitable substitute for the habitable, but unihabited, planet she'd been intending on leaving the Doctor on. Habitable, but not due to evolve any sentient life for another million years. Or even be visited by any intelligent species for a good long while after that.

As she stepped outside, looking up at the wash of stars, she raised an eyebrow. That set of constellations was like no other she'd seen before. Or, in fact, had any inkling existed. Though the buildings around her made it appear that this wasn't going to be an impossible place for the Doctor to escape. Well, back to plan A - get the Doctor to that planet, then find a place to start taking over the universe.

After she found a way out of this place, anyway. Which, at the moment, wasn't too high a priority. She doubted the Doctor would figure it out before she did.

Leaning against the wall, she waited for someone to come by, an idea forming in the back of her head.

It was an absurd hour, and the Doctor was the only person in the hotel's dining room, at least for the moment. He got himself a cup of tea and sprawled out in one overstuffed arm-chair, and after a bit of dragging and wrestling, propped his feet in another.

The town was getting a bit much for the Master. A bit... claustrophic. He wanted somewhere with more air, maybe even some water. And there had been a fishing shop, so presumably there was a river or a lake or something nearby. He took a leaf out of Jack's book, climbed to the roof of the hotel and surveyed the lay of the land.

Sure enough, there was a lake, just a couple of miles away. The Master practically danced down the stairs, swung out of the hotel, and started walking.

As soon as he'd got out of the town and onto the rustic little lane that should lead him to the lake, the drums began to quiet down and he started to really enjoy his walk.

He hadn't really expected to see anyone else this far out, but as he neared the lake someone else came into sight. Someone very familiar.

Romana had been going for one of her walks alone, at night, in the long corridors of Citadel. The Citadel was never completely quiet, of course, but at night she was much more likely to have some time alone to clear her head. She had finally managed push away her worries, and to concentrate only on the process of walking and breathing, when she turned the corner and was abruptly *not* in the Citadel.

She looked to be in a lobby of an Earth-style hotel, in fact. Possibly in the late 20th to early 21st century. How had she gotten here? It seemed real. She didn't want to think that this was some sort of trick, but it was possibly even worse if it wasn't. What could have possibly been powerful enough to yank her from Gallifrey without warning?

The Master was looking for Jack. Well, he was looking for a number of people, actually, including anyone who might actually have a decent chance of explaining what was going on and how he could get back to the Valiant to thwart the Doctor's plans, but Jack was at the top of his list.

He finally decided to just wait around the hotel dining room until Jack turned up, on the grounds that everybody had to eat some time and most people seemed to be eating there rather than anywhere else. And eventually, his plan worked. He waited in a dark corner, watching while Jack ate his dinner, and trying to work out if this Jack would know him or not. He was dressed very similarly to how the Master had last seen him – but that didn't actually mean anything, as Jack didn't seem to have changed his default outfit for years.

When Jack was nearing the end of his meal, the Master slipped out into the lobby to intercept him. So that when Jack finally emerged from the dining room the Master was waiting, leaning back against the far doors where he couldn't fail to be noticed, hands in his trouser pockets (one of them round his laser screwdriver, just in case), one foot crossed nonchalantly across the other, and a small, secretive smile on his lips.

Ianto filed a copy of his latest report in the appropriate archive, pausing when he was done to enjoy the silence of the archives for a moment. He'd sent the intern home early, and with the other archivist on leave, he had the entirety of the cavernous room to himself. He closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall a moment, only to tense when he felt the texture change. A door, directly behind him, that shouldn't exist.

He turned to glare at it a moment before reaching for the knob, slowly turning it, and pushing the door open without stepping through. Not the hallway he usually came out on this time, but a darkened room. He studied it a long moment before stepping through, closing it behind him, sighing when it faded into the wall. He hated when that happened.

He headed for the door, raising a mental eyebrow at the street access instead of a hallway before stepping out. He hadn't gone far when he saw a familiar face, and froze for a moment. "Sir?" It couldn't be his employer, not with the snide and irritated commentary back with each of his reports. But he had no doubts it was the Master. The face was all too familiar.

It was dark again outside. The Master stood at the window of an upstairs landing of the hotel and stared out over the town. Nondescript buildings of no distinctive period or style, separated by unnamed streets. He still couldn't make any sense of this place.

And he missed the Valiant. He'd been Lord and Master of Earth for three months now and he'd got used to having absolute power. Here, he was just another person, as lost as everyone else. And all right, Lucy had told him exactly what was going to happen when he got back to the Valiant and they'd worked out what he needed to do when he got there – but he had to get there first.

He fidgeted restlessly, wondering where to go to find someone who might help him find out what was going on. Or, you know, someone just to alleviate the boredom.

She was tired. She was cranky. She was half-leaning into the bar and yawning, waiting for her coffee. "Oh god, coffee. I can't deal with this place without it, I swear."

The Master was bored. The entire town seemed deserted and he was starting to doubt the both Doctors' assertions that they'd actually met other people here.

And nothing was any fun without people to torment.

He saw a pub ahead and decided to give it a try. If there were people anywhere, a pub was a good place to look for them.

He pushed open the door and stood for a moment in the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the dim interior. He sighed with relief. At last. Someone to talk to.

The Master wandered about the halls of the hotel, and finally made it outside. He needed some fresh air to clear his head and quieten the drums that had been pounding relentlessly ever since he turned up in this bizarre place.

He grinned as he imagined the Doctor's face when he discovered he wasn't in the TARDIS where he'd left him.

He grinned even wider when he saw who was walking down the street towards him.

The Master wandered along the corridors to the TARDIS, humming merrily to himself as he mulled over his recent victory (minor, maybe, but oh so gratifying!) over both the Doctor and Jack. He was too hyped to sleep, so he'd decided to check up on the Paradox Machine instead. It still wasn't working perfectly, even after all the hours both he and the Doctor had put in.

He pushed open the TARDIS door and walked in. Then stopped and blinked.

Oh, this wasn't good. This wasn't good at all.

Instead of the glowing, pulsing red of the Paradox Machine, he saw a corridor. And not one like he'd just left, in the Valiant. This had dark, damp, breeze-block walls, a concrete floor, and was lit only by very sparse fluorescent lights, the nearest of which was flickering maddeningly. It looked like… a basement?

He turned, slowly, and without surprise discovered that the door behind him had vanished too.

What the hell had the Doctor done to his Paradox Machine?

The sound of footsteps ahead had him swinging round sharply. "Who's there?" he called out, his voice sounding harsher than he'd intended, because he didn't like being outsmarted. Especially not by the Doctor.