Who: The Doctor and Lucy Saxon When: Sometime after the dinner with Lacey and Ianto Where: his tent What: Reaching out to a tormented soul
The Doctor had to be pulled most days out of his tent since being forced to watch his sister and her friend at the dinner table with the Master and Lucy. It had been a somber reminder of two things. One, how much he let the poor girl down, and two, how clever she was. He was proud of her. She might be in over her head, but she obviously thought she'd be doing the most good here and surrendered. He felt better knowing she was safe, as safe as anyone could be around the insane Time Lord.
That led to his other problem, as he crawled from his tent, staring off into space. He had to focus even harder now, to try to weave and connect the patterns in the Archangel Network. He hoped Martha was all right, and had figured out what he'd meant by now. He had to hope that this planned work and that Lacey her family could dance around the Master's insanity, maybe even temper it. He hoped they hadn't been shown Jack. That she was with another member of Torchwood told him that she was Jack's mysterious Time Lady.
Then there was Lucy Saxon. The Doctor hadn't figured her out just yet. he didn't know how much it was Lucy genuinely went along with the Master willingly, and how much was it the Master's control. When the Toclafane first descended from the skies, she seemed just as eager as the Master, but now, a few weeks later, and he wasn't so sure, little hints, far away looks. Just small details told him nothing was as it seemed here.
He sat there, an old man now, chained like a dog to the tent. Want waited. That's all he could do now. Wait. He glanced over as he heard the door slide open.