"Herr Doktor, I would be prepared to offer anything. Anything in my power. A dukedom. A claim to my throne! Just please, help-"

"Your Majesty," said the older man mildly, "I am quite flattered that you would offer such for my services. I do have some small skill." He brought out a few vials, fiddling with another device. He looked up to find the King staring at the door to the room, an expression of pain and despair etched on his face.

"Your Majesty... I must see my patient."

"Of course."

The Doctor entered the sick room.

"Madame, I have been brought in by his majesty, I am the Doctor who..."

"Doctor? You have come to me, at last!" She sat up, a brilliant grin on her face-

the smile dropped away as she stared at him in confusion.

"You are not the Doctor."

The Doctor stared back at her, realization dawning all too quickly. He stepped closer. "You... you have met another known as the Doctor, Madame?

"Yes," she said. "But you could not be him. He could not have aged so, in so short a time!" She eyed his clothes. "You seem to dress better, but..."

Before he could react, her hands came up to either side of his head. Her eyes were closed.

"Madame, what-"

She dropped back, confusion and a touch of pain in her eyes. "I don't understand," she whispered. "It is you, my Doctor, but so young, but you look so old! Courageous and defiant, and with so much less sorrow and l-"

"Stop!" said the Doctor. "You must not say these things!" He saw that his tone had been sharper than he intended; she shrank back.

He sighed. "Madame," he said, "if you have truly touched my mind before, you know I am a Time Lord. We do not live in a straight line; I suspect I will meet your younger self, someday. In the mean time, please allow me to help you."

He glanced at the scanner. He paled. She should not be getting that much worse that fast!

He stepped forward with the vial of counter-virus, but she waved him away.

"Madame, please, I implore you! I may not be the one you were waiting for, but at least let me ensure you live to see him again!"

She reached out to stroke his face. She smiled. "Ah, my young, brash Lord of Time, not all of us are eternal, like you," she said. "Perhaps it is my fate that my end comes so soon. After all, how many women have done as much as I? I have my place in history... and I have you. You did return to me, even if in such a strange manner."

She lay back and closed her eyes. In a minute, her breathing told that she had fallen into a light sleep.

He stood looking at her slumbering form for a moment, then turned with a shake of his head

"Madame de Pompadour. It is my honor to meet you... and I am sorry to have disturbed you."

He stepped back out the door, shutting it behind him. The King leaped to his feet.

"Well? Can you help her?"

The Doctor gazed at the King's haggard features, then looked down and sighed.

"I'm afraid not, your Majesty. I had thought, from the symptoms you described, that I could do something..." I most assuredly could, but can't... "...but it wasn't that. I am truly sorry. I will not further waste your time." He quickly strode past the King before another word could be uttered, and out the door.

The Doctor stepped out the front gate, and a voice came from behind him.

"Doctor-"

"Jo, what in blazes are you doing out here? I told you to return to the TARDIS!"

The Doctor turned and gave her a stern look.

"I-"

"Please, get yourself hidden. Quickly!"

Jo nodded, and looking around, ducked behind a tall hedge.

Good girl.

He looked back down at the medical kit he held.

All he had wanted to do was correct an anomaly, do the Time Lords a good turn, even in the face of everything they had done to him. After all, in the correct time line, the Madame de Pompadour had not died so early, and certainly not from a mutated virus originating from the Cronian system in 2546!

"Now this," he muttered. "Crossing my own time lines, interfering in established events, creating paradox even I can't unsnarl?!"

If he ever ran into this version of himself in the future, they would be having words