Author's Note: I really like this story. You're going to get a few different Doctors in this story, but mainly, it's a 10th Doctor story. The 10th Doctor doesn't show up for a bit (the others show up first), but when he's there, he's there to stay!

I started writing this story because I was rereading the series and got to Trials and thought, "Okay, I would love to know what the Doctor was thinking when he sent Seo here, because that is just cruel!" I began writing a scene between Angel and the Doctor, and it turned into a whole story.

Spoilers alert: if you have not read "Confession", "Sunglasses", "All that Falls", and "the Ten Seos" (the whole sunglasses story arc) you're going to completely ruin that story arc for yourself.

I'm starting with the beginning and then giving you a one-line preview of chapter two, which starts with the heading "Now". You will shortly discover when "now" is. It's not necessarily when you think it is.

Enjoy!

Angel was meditating on the floor, trying to subdue the animal that Acathla's dimension had brought out in him. Deep breath in… deep breath out… focus… focus…

A cough, from behind him.

Angel jumped to his feet, spinning around and bracing himself for a fight.

There, leaning against a wall, looking extremely nonchalant, was a man with a pinstripe suit, red trainers, and a tan trench coat. Just a glance, and anyone'd think — least threatening person in the entire town of Sunnydale!

But Angel wasn't 'anyone'.

"Why are you…?" Angel glanced around himself. Was Buffy here? Or — even worse — had the Doctor finally learned about the arrangement Angel had made with that Sunglasses woman? Because Angel hadn't gone through with it — he'd thought better of it! "Listen, I promise, I didn't—"

"Drusilla," said the Doctor.

Angel froze.

All words dried up on his tongue.

"Oh, now, there's a guilty look, if ever I saw one," the Doctor said. He ran a hand through his hair. "Thing is, I was just looking through space-time for fixed points with a bit of elasticity in them — well, you know, just in case she failed the trial, and her mum had to bail her out — and I thought, 1860! London! Brilliant. Teach her not to interfere in her mum's past." Something cold sprang into his eyes. "But I would never have sent them there, if I'd known the full extent of what you did — Angelus."

Angel had no idea what the Doctor was talking about, in terms of children and elastic fixed points. But he knew — that wasn't why the Doctor was really here.

"Care to explain to me just what was going through your mind, at the time?" the Doctor asked, standing up straight. "Because I thought I'd seen the worst of you, with the Kalderash — but I didn't even scratch the surface…" He met Angel's eyes. "...did I?"

Angel looked away.

He wasn't really sure what to say.

"Just what, exactly, did you do to Drusilla?" the Doctor demanded. "Start to finish. In detail."

Angel closed his eyes, in pain. "You should get your friends out of there. Right now."

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow. "And that's all I'm getting?"

Angel snapped his head back around, eyes blazing. "What else do you want? A confession? An inquisition? An in-depth examination of my guilty conscience?!" He advanced on the Doctor, shoving a finger in his face. "I regret everything I did to Drusilla. It hurts me, when I see her. It hurts me, when I remember. But what I did to her is in the past. There's no way to take it back." He gritted his teeth and pointed at the door. "So just do me a favor and leave me alone."

"Angel…" the Doctor said, dully.

"And be grateful," Angel added, "that I'm not cruel enough to march into your house, at random hours of the day, simply to chew you out for destroying Elizabeth."

The Doctor shot him a look. "Thanks for that, Angel. Nice 1-2 punch." He shook his head and gestured outside, at his time machine. "Actually, I left Angelus in 1860… only about five minutes ago. So while it may be the past for you, it's very much the present for me. And it's far from set in stone."

Angel frowned. "I don't understand."

"One of the friends I left, back there, may — or may not — have just gotten out of a year-long encounter with the Master," the Doctor explained, without going into any (probably necessary) detail about which Master. "If she has any lingering memories of that year — even just the tiniest trace — she'll take one look at what Angelus is doing to Drusilla…" He crossed his arms, his face going dark, "...and she will stop it."

Angel gave a dry laugh. "She won't. I know myself better than that. If she tries, I'll just go after her, too."

"Yes, well, thing is, she's a bit clever and a bit strong," the Doctor said. "She might just pull it off." He considered. "Or, at the very least, cause all sorts of temporal chaos, trying."

Angel stared at the Doctor. He wasn't sure what to say.

"Which," the Doctor continued, with an irritated sigh, "is why I'm here, asking you precisely what you did to Drusilla." He ruffled his hair. "And, much as I hate to admit it, I will be needing details. After all, can't swoop in and fix up the timeline, if I don't know what happened."

A pit formed in Angel's stomach.

"You're not here to lecture me about morality," Angel realized. "You want to know what I did to Drusilla, so you can make sure it stays the same. You want to make sure Drusilla remains just as destroyed as I left her."

The Doctor didn't answer this. His face grew even angrier, as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared at the ground, shuffling, a little.

"Elizabeth was right about you," Angel muttered, turning away from him. "You really are a monster."

"Bit rich, Angelus," the Doctor said, his voice uncannily light and nonchalant. "Considering."

Angel went back to his meditation corner, now firmly determined to tell the Doctor nothing. As far as he was concerned, if the Doctor's friends changed history and made it so that Drusilla was never broken — that was perfectly fine with Angel. He'd probably thank them for it.

But he would not aid the Doctor in this.

Not at all.

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, muttering something beneath his breath. Then, tried to plant a slightly friendlier, less angry look on his face. He took a step towards Angel.

"Look, I was hoping you and I might have a bit of a chat," the Doctor offered, a little more kindly. "After all, more information I have, more chance I could find some sort of… loophole. Some way I could help."

Angel still said nothing.

He returned to his meditation.

"Can't do anything too clever if you give me nothing to work with," the Doctor tried, again.

Still, Angel said nothing.

"Well, on your own head be it," the Doctor sighed, spinning around on his heels and walking out. "If you're going to give me nothing — I'd best be off. Friends to look after, trials to create, all that."

He paused in the doorway, hesitated, glancing back at Angel. Opened his mouth, to say something else.

Then thought better of it. Shook his head.

And left.

Angel didn't know how she found him, or how she knew. But, then again — he hadn't known, the last time she found him, either.

He was just sitting at Willy's Bar, one moment…

…and, the next moment, a woman with high-heels, a sleek black dress, and a pair of sunglasses in her mahogany brown hair slid into the seat across from him.

"Well, this is a rewrite," Sunglasses said, with a little smile. "The last I knew about any of this, you never saw me, again, in Sunnydale, after I threatened you. And now… here you are. Hoping I'd turn up."

Angel leaned across the table — and, in a very low voice, asked, "You said you want the Doctor. Will you stop him?"

Sunglasses gave an enigmatic smile. "I think what I want to do with him is my personal business, Angel." She folded her hands in front of her. "What's it to you?"

Angel told her — everything that just happened. All about the Doctor dropping into the mansion to lecture him about 1860 and Drusilla.

Sunglasses sat back, intrigued. "Drusilla," she repeated. "Interesting."

"I'd do anything to take back what I did to Drusilla," Angel insisted. "But he just waltzed into the mansion, acting like it has to happen, and all he can do is be the inhuman, stone-hearted Time Lord, bending the universe to his will! He wants her to be destroyed and insane! He said…!"

Sunglasses held out a single finger in the air, between them.

Angel, with a sudden panic, realized he could no longer physically speak.

Sunglasses thought, for a moment. "Drusilla. Yes, of course. I remember." Her face fell, and she looked away from Angel. "The Daleks got her, in the end." She shook her head. "A bad way to go."

Angel had never actually seen a Dalek — only heard stories about them, from Elizabeth, in the other timeline. But he had no idea how Daleks had anything to do with Drusilla.

"Do you want me to save her?" Sunglasses asked, looking up at him and lowering her hand.

Angel mouthed words he couldn't quite articulate. Did he want it? Yes! Of course! But… dare he? Was Sunglasses working for D'Hoffryn?

"I'm not a vengeance demon," Sunglasses told him — as if she'd read his mind. "I don't have to wait for an affirmative answer to go back and do it, anyways." She leaned forwards, her voice lowering, her eyes meeting his with a steady intensity, "But if you're against it, I can always hear you out."

"What I did to Drusilla was wrong," Angel said, carefully. "I know that. I just… all this time travel stuff… the paradoxes and the threat of universal destruction…" He shook his head. "I don't know how any of that works."

Sunglasses smiled, a twinkle in her eye. "But I do."

She got up, and told Willy to, "Put the drink on my tab." Then she winked at Angel, turned, and walked out of the bar.

1860

Drusilla ran through the convent, screams ringing in her ears. It was too much! It was all just too much! She was clinging, desperately, to the last few tendrils of sanity that remained inside of her.

Once, she'd had hope. An unearthly, heavenly girl had come to her and had sworn to save her from Angelus — to show her the light. But then, even Heaven had given up on her — dumped her here, knowing Angelus would find her.

And now…

What was left for her?

How could she go on?!

Drusilla turned a corner — and screamed, as she found herself face-to-face with Angelus. He grinned at her, without a single scrap of mercy or compassion in his eyes.

"Fancy seeing you, here, Dru," he said.

Drusilla turned and ran in the other direction.

She was struggling not to cry. She was struggling not to break down, screaming. Why had God abandoned her? Why had Heaven decided she couldn't be saved? Why…?

"Please, God," Drusilla begged the heavens. "Please! Please!"

A woman stepped out, in front of her, with a sleek black dress and a pair of sunglasses perched in her mahogany hair. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"

Angelus didn't even slow, when he saw the newcomer. She was just prey, to him — like all the others, here. He sprang at her, fangs bared.

The next thing he knew, the world was upside down — and Angelus realized Sunglasses had just thrown him through a wall.

Angelus burst out of the ruins of the wall, facing down Sunglasses. There was only one person he knew who could do something like this to him. Someone that, Darla had mentioned, could change her face.

"It's you, isn't it?" Angelus said, stalking towards her. "Different face, same person. Little Say-say. The Slayer's daughter."

"Drusilla, get out of here," Sunglasses told her, gearing up for a fight.

Angelus laughed, circling her. "Oh, no, you don't. Dru's mine, little Say-say. You can't…"

"Don't call me that," Sunglasses said, keeping herself between him and Drusilla. "That's not my name."

Angelus' face morphed. "Say-say," he taunted.

He sprung at her.

"Drusilla, run!" Sunglasses shouted, as she fought with him. "Get out of the convent and don't look back!"

Drusilla ran. The corridors of the convent blurred through her tears, and her heart beat so loudly, it rang in her ears. She felt the building shake, around her, and sprinted for the exit. Her mind was breaking… shattering… she couldn't think, could barely stop herself from dropping to the ground and screaming as she let herself fall apart…

Drusilla stepped outside the convent the moment before it collapsed — the force throwing her back and slamming her against the grass.

Drusilla stared.

Overwhelmed by the memories of the death and the screaming, overwhelmed by all that had just happened to her — Drusilla held her head in her hands and sobbed, curling up into a ball. "No more! No…! Too much…! Can't…! Can't…!"

The sobs turned into a scream, when a cold hand yanked her into the air. It was Darla — giving her a look that could have frozen lava. "Poor little broken thing," said Darla. "Time to put you out of your misery."

Her face morphed, so she sprouted fangs, and she leaned forwards to bite Drusilla…

Then Darla gave a scream.

And turned to dust, revealing her killer — Sunglasses.

Sunglasses lowered the stake and stepped forwards, towards Drusilla. There was a look of such kindness in her eyes, such concern creasing her brow…

"I don't…" Drusilla said, through choked sobs, trying to digest what had just happened. "I can't…!"

Sunglasses wrapped Drusilla in a tight hug and shushed her, gently. "It's all right," she said. "Listen to me, Drusilla. It's all right. I'm here. I came back for you — because you're worth it." She pat Drusilla's back, trying to soothe her. "Everything's going to be all right, now. You've been saved."

And that was when the timeline changed. And everything became very, very different.

Now

Xander strutted into the library, beaming. "Hey, guys! Guess who didn't get selected for the monthly blood-sacrifice?" He pointed his thumbs at himself. "This guy!"