It's all AU.

Lucian knew Jason well enough to notice when something was bothering him. Even when he only just caught a glimpse of the werewolf as he ran in the woods. It was enough to notice the tension in his gait, and enough to decide Lucian to shift, and join him for a long run.

Until Jason was able, and ready, to shift back.

The Master was gardening out in front of the cottage he'd taken up residence, planting roses. Ripping up the earth, and weeding and pruning was calming and harmless. Jazz was pouring out of open windows, loud enough to drown out the noise in his head a bit.

The Doctor was at a flat out run, barreling around a corner, and ran *right* into some one. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Did you see a woman coming this way? Blonde hair, blue eyes? Where did she go?" he asked, looking around wildly, before he met the eyes of the person he'd smacked into.

Lucian had quickly given up on finding Jason's Jean-Claude, figuring that whenever this place wanted them to meet, they would. Clearly before had been the right time.

Now, however, seemed to be the good time, since the scent suddenly hit his nostrils. Vampire, mixed with Jason's lingering smell underneath the primary, cold one. This had to be the right trail, and he followed it to a house on which door he knocked.

Lucian did not care much for rain, but he was intrigued all the same. Standing right outside the hotel, under the porch, and watching the drizzle.

"I did not think there was weather here," he commented to a passer-by that did not smell native.

Sophie Anne wandered down the road, glancing right and left, looking for all the world like she was taking a stroll down Fifth Avenue and not, in fact, newly arrived in...wherever this was. Well, there was no point panicking, after all. There must be something here of interest.

At least, there must be someone who can tell her something interesting.

Catching sight of movement, she was beside the person in a flash. "Excuse me," she said, smiling sweetly. "Where in the world is this?"

Lucian was staring up at the moon. Sitting very still on a bench in the old town, and staring up at the full moon. The fake full moon.

He frowned when he realised someone had come near and stopped. Turned his head and looked straight at that someone. "Yes?"

Lucian had hesitated, then elected not to go and seek out Jean-Claude until the next evening. He needed to rest and collect himself properly, first, not to mention rid himself of that smell of silver before the nausea overcame him.

By the next morning, he had new clothes and felt entirely steadier after a good night's sleep in the hotel. He went down to the lobby and paused, looking at the people milling about and breathing in the odd mix of scents they gave off before heading for the bar area. Hopefully they also served food. Hopefully rare meat.

He went up to the counter and rather than wait for the bartender to come over so he could ask him about it, he turned to the person next to him. "Do you know if they serve food here?"

Jason was used to the various scents in New New York by now. The cats still sometimes made his nose itch because it was just the WRONG cat scent, so far as he was concerned, but he didn't notice it any more.

So when he came across a new scent, it made him pause, trying to figure out what it was that caught his attention. He thought it might be a were. Maybe.

Glancing up at the sky, Jason started following the scent, doing his best to come up from downwind of the new person. That way, if it seemed more than he could handle, he might be able to get a headstart and run before there was trouble. At the end of the day, though, he couldn't control the wind, which shifted just as he caught sight of the new arrival. So he pulled himself up to his rather unimpressive full height and started forward. No reason to hide now.

The silver was rushing through his veins and he welcomed the sweet oblivion of death. He'd been parted from Sonja too long.

Oblivion came, followed by pain, pain akin to that of shifting back, a human form forced upon your spirit. He opened his eyes, growling still, lost and confused. Surely death did not lead to a hotel suite. Surely his heart should not be beating still. The place smelled wrong, felt wrong, his shirt was ripped and bloody, the smell of silver clung to him. He had died, and been taken here, to be brought back to life.

He erupted into the hallway, expecting an attack any second, but reached the stairs without encountering anyone. He jumped down them a flight of stairs at a time, only to find himself face to face with someone a few floors down.

"Where are we?" he asked, his tone entirely more polite than the wolf raging inside him demanded.