It's all AU.

Koschei hummed to himself as he pulled on the oars of the little boat, watching the platform in the middle of the lake recede as he headed back for shore. He hadn't quite finished putting together his little project, but it was shaping up nicely. And at least this place had given him a nice little bit of secuity for the platform he was storing the finished product on.

"Can't have someone using them to blow up anything, after all. Would be just a waste." He looked up at the dock as he brought the oars up, the little boat gliding in next to the pier. And smiled cheefully at the person standing there as if he hadn't said a thing about explosives. "Hello! Lovely day for a row about the lake, isn't it?"

( Cut for relevence )

Movement caught her attention, and she turned towards it, pulling herself up to her full height. "Show yourself." Her voice was deeper than the host's natural tones, faintly distorted as always - there had never been a reason to put the effort in to be rid of it.

The Master was sitting at one of the tables savoring a shot of whiskey as he waited for people to show up. He'd traded out of his usual politician's suit, for a longer, more closely tailored knee length jacket, and had actually lost the tie. The white rose remained pinned, of course.

Everything was set up. Tables, large enough for 4 or 5 people to sit comfortably, around the outside of the room. Food and open bar at the far wall from the doors. And still a fairly large space in the middle for dancing. It was going to be interesting to see how many people showed up, because frankly he wasn't sure what the population of the town was. He couldn't help but wonder, given the malleable and mind bending nature of the this place - if more people showed up then could really fit, would the room mysteriously seem bigger? It wasn't a completely absurd idea, here.

As predicted, there were no Doctors with red roses and black converses in sight, yet.

Anne MacBeth was going to kill him.

In the beginning, the Doctor had been a novelty. Another eccentric foreigner at Amberleigh, acting strangely around Cousin Elizabeth like everything else male. Then, he'd been a hero, saving the little fluff-brained twit, from bullets, poison and a falling chandelier, while whisking Anne away from it all. Now, however, in a place of flashing lights, loud noise and crushing crowds, the Doctor was a dead man.

If she could find him, because, now she was trapped in a crowd of half-naked, thrashing individuals like cultists in India. The music was amazingly infectious. Anne might have tried dancing with them, if she weren't so angry. She fought her way to the bar and found herself staring at a small circular card, slightly damp and smelling of beer.

"Clockwerx," it read in gold ink, "Time has no meaning when you never close. Established ????"

Oh yes, the Doctor was going to die. Permanently, this time.