It's all AU.

Bella was casting stones into the river on the edge of the woods. Not skimming them to see them bounce along the water, but throwing them with her full strength, one after the other, oddly satisfied to see them sink so heavily into the water.

"So," John drawled seemingly into the air over the bar when he heard footsteps approach behind him. "Who's a guy got to fuck to get some entertainment around here? This place sucks harder than your mother."

Martha stretched out on a bench, set her feet on it, drew her knees up, slid both hands into her hair, and let out a frustrated groan. "What does a girl have to do to get laid around here?"

Gray headed out of the hotel, searching for a TARDIS, or a Time Lord. He didn't really care that the Doctor had asked him to drop it, he wanted to find a way to help him. Because he couldn't believe that anyone, much less the Doctor, would deserve that.

Spotting someone who looked vaguely familiar from the last time he was here, and doing a lot of watching people, Gray sped up, calling out, "Hey! Wait up!"

"Hello. My name is Fox Mulder, and before I sit down here I need to know if you are human or alien and if you are armed." Well. It was worth knowing before he got comfortable with his coffee and donut.

After he'd finished up at the Hotel, and finished up his bottle of hypervodka, John was ready to get *really* drunk. His conversation with Mulder had rattled him in a way he couldn't really place, and now he was homesick for a home he'd never had.

He was sitting at the end of a quiet bar in New New York, downing shot after shot, and toying with the settings on his wriststrap, trying to argue himself out of sending out a message to *every* Jack in the place. Jack was the nearest to home that he knew, but annoying logic kept interrupting his desire. 'On HIS terms' was going around his head like a mantra, and it was giving him a greater headache than he knew how to deal with. So, unconsciousness was the goal, until the urge had passed.

"Someone just stole my wallet," Jack said, to someone he recognized, at the bar. "There's a few things important about this. First: I don't have any money, and I'm pretty sure there's no economy here, my urge to try to sleep with the 'natives' is on the rise. Along with my cock. That's not gonna end well, and I can't count to three because I've had *way* too much to drink."

He was walking down the street, headed for somewhere to get a bite to eat and maybe a paper if he was lucky. Then he passed someone who felt... odd. Very, very odd. So he backed up, looked around and then spotted Jamie. "Hullo," he said, carefully. "What're you?"

Jamie wandered through the lobby of the hotel, a little sleepy, in his robe and slippers. He got a cup of coffee, then wandered to another table and, unashamedly, poked the other time lord. "You're real then, are you?"

Rose was all bundled up, and looking more chipper then she had in a while. The Doctor just had his coat on, as usual. A good 6 inches had blanketed the town, enough to really play in not enough to trap people indoor is they wanted to get out. The worked on a snowman for a bit, when Rose turned to the Doctor and commented, "Snowball fights work better with more people. Where is everyone?"

Jamie had on earmuffs with little bear faces on the brown fluff. His ears got cold! They were rather large, and well. Goofy. He looked like a student in jeans and a hooded jumper, the hood down as he walked through the town, peering at windows.

"Do you reckon it'll snow?" he asked out loud. "It's winter at home."

When Jamie and Jamie met they. Well.

Had a whole pot of coffee between them, leaning in to talk over a tiny cafe table. They mapped out where their lives diverged, where they were the same, with a kind of amused glee.

They talked, they got to know each other.

Jamie made a promise to the other man that if he left, the younger Jamie would take care of Jack, the closest to their father, his actual father, and John.


Which turned out to be fortunate, as the older alternate left the following morning.

It was evening, and John was fidgeting in a  large leather-backed chair in the corner of the Hotel restaurant. He'd found a dark, dark red button down shirt, with black PVC detailing on the collartips, cuffs and along the pocket top, a series of three small d-rings across the shirt shoulders, and silver buttons. He was now wearing it with the top few buttons open, showing his fading bruises and the healed scratches underneath. His normally worn denim had been exchanged for a crisp black pair of jeans, and his normally slicked back hair had been recently washed and was gel free. It looked shades lighter without all the gunk in it, and it curled softly at the temple as it dried. Pulling once more at the cuffs of his shirt, he mentally cursed himself. This was stupid. Jamie was going to laugh. He was just setting himself up to fall here.

He sighed deeply and ordered a bowl of pistacchios from the server, mostly to have something to keep his hands busy whilst he waited. Putting the new strap on the table in front of him, he once more checked it's set up to make sure everything was perfect with it. Gods, he hoped Jame would go for it. When the pistacchios arrived, he shelled them at a ferocious pace, determined not to mess about any more.

He'd left messages at Jamie's room, at the notice board in the foyer, and in a couple of the local cafes he'd found. He only hoped that Jamie had seen them, and he wasn't going to be sat here all night.

The Master had acquired pastries and coffee, and was in search of Jack, in rather a cheerful mood. Things were on the mend with Jack, he hadn't seen the Doctor since he came here - though he thought he'd spotted his TARDIS at one point - and his mind was delightfully quiet.

He headed for the hotel, hoping that Jack had come back last night, even with him absent from the room, nearly running into someone unfamiliar in the lobby.

"Oh, sorry about that, a bit distracted," he said brightly, sidestepping rapidly, careful not to spill the cups of coffee he was holding.

Jamie'd gone home. Spoken to his father. Napped. Gotten his eyes rescanned for Torchwood.

Napped again. Then headed into his kitchen and walked out in the kitchen of the hotel.


He groaned. Loudly. Got a cup of coffee, then went looking for John.

It was nighttime, or what passed as night round here anyway. John was at the lake. A lengthy swim had helped to shake out some of the cobwebs. He was currently lying back against the shoreline, stark naked, arms crossed above his head, staring up at the stars, wondering if any of the constellations up there were real. He didn't recognise any of them, which unnerved him slightly.

He let his eyelids close softly, and didn't bother opening them when he heard footsteps approaching.

"Hey gorgeous," he said quietly. "Come to join me?"

When he saw Jenny reach out to take down the sign she'd hung up earlier, Gray slid off his chair, heading back over to the TARDIS, and peering in the door.

"Come on in, Gray, girls-only party is over." Jenny ran a hand through her hair as she dropped the sign on the captain's chair. "River's still somewhere in the TARDIS, haven't found her yet, and I'm heading out."

"Where're you going?"

Jenny shrugged. "Don't know. You've been out and about, any place interesting?"

"There's a hotel, with lots of people. And a restaurant where I got the chips. And I saw a park." Gray smiled. "I can show you where I've been, if you want?"

Jenny tilted her head, watching him with a considering look a moment. "Sure. Why don't we start with that restaurant, grab some fries, and maybe hang out somewhere and do some people watching."

Gray beamed, and held out his hand, happily leading the way. In the end, they settled onto a sunny patch of grass in the park with a basket of chips, with Jenny watching people, and Gray watching clouds.

The Doctor didn't want to crowd Jamie, or make him uncomfortable. Really he didn't. He also was a still worried. He stayed away long enough to be fairly sure Jamie had slept the worst of regeneration sickness off, and went looking for him, not sure if he's find him in his own room or John's.

Jamie woke suddenly, but without movement, eyes snapping open and. Inspecting the Doctor's shoulder. Okay. He exhaled carefully and slowly pulled away, not wanting to wake the other man, especially after he dealt with Jamie's hysteria the previous night.

He dropped to the floor and pulled on his trousers and shirt in the dark with the ease of some serious practice. He then headed out of his room and down towards the dining room. He hadn't made it very far before he saw a familiar head of hair, "John."

Jamie hadn't, quite, expected to end up here. But he had last time he'd died so he didn't know why he didn't.

He'd gotten a shower, washed his own blood off of his undamaged body, changed into new clothes, then went to look to see if he could find someone he recognized. For all that he'd been here before (now he remembered), met people who'd left and returned, he'd expected the same amount of time to have passed here as at home.

So he sat down at the table with the Doctor, cocking his head to the side, "Hello then."