It's all AU.

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.

( Cut for length and relevence )

A brilliant burst of orange and silver and gold lit up the landscape below him enough that he spotted movement, and Jack shifted, sprawling out so he was less visible, watching the person. He doubted he was completely hidden, but he would be harder to see like this, anyway.

Ianto had left a message in the hotel lobby for Spike before heading towards the cottage in the park, his jacket hooked over his shoulder as he tilted his head back to squint at the brightly-lit sky. No way to tell time here, but he would have a while, he thought, before Spike showed up. Long enough to get things set up.

( Cut for length )

Warning: Blood, lots of blood.

The Master put a pile of clothing on the table- a leather jacket, a green jumper, and a pair of black jeans, and boots, then relaxed back in his chair and ordered a cup of tea.


Looking smug, and, perhaps, just a bit childish.

Reinette was wearing blue today, for a change. She wandered through the park, picking flowers to take home for Nancy. There were all sorts of flowers here, far more types than she'd ever seen at home - and the Poissons had a pretty impressive garden at home.

She was transfixed by an almost luminous blue flower, something like a carnation but, well. Luminous purple.

"Excuse me," she said, when she heard footsteps on the path behind her. "Do you know what this flower's called? It's beautiful!"

( Cut for length )

Looking over the selection of drinks a moment, he settled onto a stool, and requested a bottle of Ogden's finest out of sheer perversity. And a desire to get pleasantly tipsy in relatively short order. Just tipsy, he didn't need to run into someone dangerous while drunk. He chuckled to himself.

"Someone dangerous indeed," he murmured, carefully pouring a measure into a glass as he glanced in the mirror, searching for any familiar face.

The Doctor was hovering somewhere between irrationally vaguely irritated and relieved that seeing Jack seemed to have flipped something one in the Master that made him bother to eat and sleep properly. Most of the irritation was at himself, for not manging it earlier, but some at the Master for not responding to the Doctor worrying about him. Well, he was smart enough not to say anything about to the Master about it, and be happy he looked better already.

He milled around the town, pondering how long they might be here, and what they could do to occupy themselves. He was frankly not very interested in finding a way home at the moment. Jamie's father might be right, that they were here for a reason.

Simple, easy, good fun would be setting up some experiments to run with Rose. And if he could get the Master involved, wonderful. He peered into a shop, contemplating lab supplies.

There was something about new jeans that just made Jack relax more. New, comfortable jeans that also made his ass look the promised 25 (he still wasn't sure if that was age or a score out of 10) were even better.

He'd still got the coat, but he'd abandoned the formality of slacks, shirt, braces and vest in favor of those jeans and a t-shirt.

He was feeling pretty nostalgic.

Which probably explained why he'd gone in search of a TARDIS and, having tracked one down, was stroking her casing gently, forehead resting against the wood in silent communication.

From an outside perspective, it probably looked incredibly odd.

The Master scowled, running a hand through his hair as he glared down at the sketch he was working on. Schematic drawing, really. For a laser screwdriver, like the prototype he had at home. Except that there was something missing.

He leaned back in his chair, throwing the pencil across the room, listening to it clatter against the wall behind the bar with a faint smile on his face. At least it wasn't all a waste.

A movement at the door caught his attention, and he smiled slightly. "Just a bit frustrated," he offered in explanation. No apology, never an apology.

Jack wandered, letting his feet go on automatic as he turned the conversation with the Master - a Master he wasn't sure was as sane as he appeared - over and over in his head. Glancing up, he spotted what looked like a familiar facade, raising an eyebrow at finding the house here, before shrugging, and heading up the steps.

It was liking stepping back in time, and Jack paused, reaching out a hand to rest on the rail for the stairs, absently curling his fingers around it as he looked around the entrance. All too familiar, the house where he'd often retreated - a sanctuary from the Master in that first decade, a place where he could sort out his thoughts and feelings from the first time he'd set foot in its doors.

"Appropriate," he murmured, letting go of the rail, and heading for the library, fingers trailing over the spines of the books. Still everything as he remembered from the late nineteenth century, out of step with most of the rest of what he'd seen here.

He was engrossed enough in his study of the place that he didn't notice someone else come in until a board creaked under them, and he spun, Glock out and aimed, ready to fire as soon as he was given an excuse to do so.

( Cut for length )

Jack sighed, pulling on a t-shirt and trousers he'd picked up while waiting for his jacket to be tailored before the party, and headed for the door. He'd find coffee downstairs, before the Master decided that he really would insist on Jack staying in the room all day.

As he stepped out of the lift into the lobby, he sighed, spotting another of the Master near the dining room. Well, at least he knew it wasn't his Master - the suit rather gave it away. Though with no rose, he doubted it was the sane one he'd first run into, either.

"Master," he greeted cautiously as he got closer, giving him a small smile.

((A place to put more threads, since some people are having trouble with loading large pages))

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.

Finally, the Master was ready to post his notice for the party. He pinned it to a large bulletin board easily viewable in the hotel lobby. In careful flowing calligraphy it read,

"All are cordially invited

To an evening of conversation, food, drinking, music, and dancing

In the company of fellow visitors and semi-residents

Located at the hotel ballroom beginning at dusk tomorrow

Dress up is highly encouraged

Less than civilized behavior while in attendance not tolerated

With warm regards,

Koschei (who will be dressed in style) & Theta Sigma (who will probably be late)"

He was trying really hard not to laugh, as he stood back and looked at it. Ok, he laughed. And then wandered off, with a stupidly happy grin on his face.

He’d finally found that equilibrium that he’d lost days ago. He was the Master – of himself, if nothing else here, but that was better then a lot of the poor bastards here. He had a plan, albeit a slightly silly one, involving party streamers, dance music, and a ballroom. Ooh, and maybe a new outfit because what was the point of a party if one didn’t dress up a bit?

He wandered about the town, assembling what was necessary to finally get that party going, feeling whimsical. He hoped his mood held. But one never knew who he might run into, running errands...