The small woman was nodded into the Tower of London by the guards. Unusual for a highly secure military installation, but she was part of an unusual set of circumstances.

Clara walked downwards, the route of corridors and staircases now ingrained muscle memory.

She knocked on the final door before turning the unlocked handle.

Inside was a small, sparsely furnished apartment. Dominating the center was an overstuffed leather armchair where a man slumped.

"You haven't moved from that spot since I was here last, have you?"

The man slowly turned his head, eyes slowly focusing. "... it's only been ..."

"Three months."

"Only three months? Thought it was quiet."

"Thought I could go on holiday and you could manage by yourself."

"I have managed. I have managed by not moving, conserving valuable brain power and other biological energies."

"And starting an impressive dust collection on your entire body." The young woman walked up to the man, and tried to bodily haul him by his arm, with a great deal of theatrical grunting, but no success.

"We killed her."

The young woman stopped. "Beg yours?"

"Me and the Time Lords."

"You didn't kill ... she couldn't handle the ..."

"They were getting impatient. That's why they let Missy loose."

The young woman let go, the man continued.

"I was looking, looking for them all the while when you were home - but I kept on getting distracted. They made Missy think she escaped ... but it gave me something to backtrack, to trace where she escaped from. Found the place, did the sums ... threw the switch ... but she couldn't take the strain ..."

"You didn't know."

"They did." The reaction on her face made him elaborate. "They were afraid of me. The man who saved Gallifrey by imprisoning it. A good Time Lord isn't supposed to take risks like that, think like that. But I did. With a rackety old TARDIS and a spare paint cube. They couldn't imprison me ... too many people knew I saved the entire planet. Bit harder to hush up then the other times. Couldn't conveniently accident me in case they needed me again. But ... they could overload the old girl, perform a last minute save by dumping me here ... and have what they should do for me decided by committee."

The girl sat down, taking his hand in hers.

Slowly, the man reached out, enveloping her hand in his other.

Normally, she would be nagging him until he finally got up and moving, the only person who could.

But as she sat there in silence next to him, she noted that this new piece of information constituted an unusual set of circumstances.