Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who.

EARTH, 1973 CE

LONDON

The two exited the TARDIS, breathing in the city air as the ship's doors closed shut behind them. London was a welcome sight. No Daleks, no Cybermen, just—humans. Humans, the Doctor noted, along with random, everyday occurrences and a concert that Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart invited the TARDIS crew to attend in just under an hour. The Doctor was excited.

His companion…

"What's so great about Beethoven?" Jo complained. The Doctor shrugged. "He's one of the best composers of the Classical and Romantic eras," he explained. "His pieces are quite remarkable, Miss Grant. You don't know what you're missing."

Jo rolled her eyes. "Oh, alright."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Come on, Jo. It's not that much longer now."

Following some tube stops along the London Underground, the crew arrived at the concert hall, seeing Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, Captain Mike Yates and Sergeant John Benton waiting in the lobby. The Doctor waved, catching the soldiers' attention.

"Ah, Doctor, good," Lethbridge-Stewart said approvingly. "Hello, Miss Grant. Nice to see you again."

The Doctor shook his hand. "Brigadier," he greeted. "Thank you for inviting us."

"It's no problem at all," the Brigadier reassured him. "Shall we take our seats?"

They entered the auditorium, sitting at the area designated on the Brigadier's tickets. Around five to ten minutes later, the concert began.

The curtains rolled back, revealing the musicians of the London Symphony Orchestra. The conductor raised his hands, baton in his right, looked at the ensemble, and waved the baton to initiate the preparatory beat.

Thus marked the beginning of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.

The Doctor sat in the third row from the front, smiling as the music twisted and turned in its ethereal grandeur. When the starting movement concluded, the Time Lord stood, clapping enthusiastically, Jo having to pull him back into his seat so that the other works of the performance could be presented.

The Doctor didn't mind. He really liked Beethoven's works (although he couldn't quite put his finger on why they struck such a strong chord with him).

The performance concluded about an hour later, the Doctor's group being among the last of the patrons to exit.

"Well, what did you think?" the Doctor asked eagerly.

"I think it sounded a bit better than your flute playing skills," Jo teased.

The Doctor looked at the laboratory assistant, miffed. "Really, Jo, these are professionals. I used to do it for a hobby."

Yates shrugged. "It did sound better in person than on a recording."

At this, the Doctor beamed. "Yes, it did!"

Jo frowned. "I don't get why he'd name a piece after an emotion. 'Ode to Joy'? How can there be a serenade to a feeling?"

"Music is a complicated thing, Jo," the Doctor said, trying to explain. "Remember how I played the flute?"

"Yeah."

"And you were terrible at it," Lethbridge-Stewart added.

"I'm trying to make a point here," the Time Lord muttered, turning back to the woman. "Well, you see, Jo, each piece that I have learned is based on a composer's interpretation of a given concept, such as an emotion or feeling," the Doctor summarised. "It isn't always named, but it's still beautiful. And Beethoven…well, to be honest, I have no idea why he chose to name that particular piece the way he did."

Benton piped up. "Well, you've got a time machine, don't you, Doctor? Why not just ask him?"

Now there's an interesting prospect. The Time Lord beamed. "I hadn't thought about that. What a splendid idea! We'll go tomorrow morning!"

"I personally do not mind one way or the other," the Brigadier muttered. "Just so long as you let me get some sleep first."

It was ultimately decided that the TARDIS crew would crash at UNIT HQ for the night. The Doctor woke up later in the morning, feeling somewhat refreshed. He stretched, making coffee in UNIT's break room. "Better be a strong one," he muttered to himself. "I've got to be wide awake if I'm to see Beethoven."

"Mm, that smells good."

The Doctor turned, noting briefly that the beverage had been brewing for a few minutes. He smiled, seeing the Brigadier. "Lethbridge-Stewart!" he greeted. "Care for a cup?"

"I think I'll take you up on that offer," the Brigadier conceded, rubbing his temples. "Ugh…this strange dream kept me up all night."

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Really? What kind of dream was it?"

"Not the pleasant kind."

"What was it about?" the Doctor asked, curious.

Lethbridge-Stewart shrugged. "I don't remember much; just a beautiful planet and so much sadness. Oh, and there was a rather strange woman." His face became serious. "Don't tell Benton; he'd never let me live it down."

The Doctor let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Oh, believe me, Brigadier, my lips are sealed." He poured the coffee. "Are you and Benton coming with us?"

"Benton already said yes. And as an avid listener of Beethoven myself, I wouldn't miss this for the world," the Brigadier told him. "Yates says he's interested as well."

"Splendid!" The Doctor took a sip, shuddering in distaste. The Brigadier held his mug in a mock toast. "That's office coffee for you, Doctor. You'll never know what you'll end up with."

"Well, never mind that," the Doctor retorted. "Sugar?"

The Brigadier pointed to a cylindrical container to the Doctor's left. The Time Lord mixed a few spoonfuls in, approving of the new addition after taking a sip. "That's a lot better." He glanced around. "Are the others up yet?"

"I saw Miss Grant about twenty minutes ago," the Brigadier said. "I think Benton and Yates decided to sleep in."

"I'll wake them after I finish consuming this beverage." The Doctor exited the break room, finding that Jo had already decided to wake Yates for him.

Or, at least try to.

"Nggh…" The Captain batted her arm away. "Five more minutes." He laid back down on the sofa.

Jo rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Mike, get up. It's almost nine thirty."

"Then I'll—yawn—I'll wake up at nine thirty-five."

"And then you'll keep procrastinating about it so that we don't get anywhere," Jo retorted.

"Let me sleep."

Lethbridge-Stewart folded his arms. "Oh, for God's sake!" He walked over to the futon, tapping loudly on a nearby table after seeing that Benton was also still asleep. "Up and at 'em! That's an order!"

Both soldiers sat up abruptly, gazing bleary-eyed at the Brigadier. "All right," Yates muttered. "I'm awake."

"Splendid," the Doctor said, noticing Benton entering the room. "Okay, good, that's everybody. Shall we?"

The Doctor fished through his pockets, trying to find the TARDIS key. What he pulled out instead was completely different. The Time Lord stared at the object curiously, perplexed. Crystals waved through the device, glowing with amber-coloured light when the button was pressed for a brief second, interlaced with the metal protecting them. The shape was odd, warped—somehow reminding him of spoons, yet the artisanship was very beautiful. It was around the same size as his sonic screwdriver, with maybe only a few centimetres difference in length.

Then there was this feeling associated with it…

Sadness. It felt…sad, somehow, holding the device, bordering along the lines of melancholy. The Doctor couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt tears start to surface not long after looking at it. But why? He didn't recall having this thing in his coat before; certainly not within the past several hours. No…there was something more to it that he didn't understand.

What are you?

"Doctor?"

The Doctor straightened, wiping his eyes in order not to show his moment of weakness to the others. "Yes? Oh, right. TARDIS key." He put the device in one hand, fishing through his pockets with the other. "Ah, let's see…There you are!" He held up the TARDIS key, proceeding to unlock the ship. The five of them entered, doors closing shut behind them.

"Doctor?" Jo asked after a moment. "That thing in your hand…what is it, exactly?"

The Doctor looked down, having momentarily forgotten about the device. "I don't have any idea, Jo," he admitted. "This was in my coat, and it wasn't there yesterday."

"Maybe you just forgot about it," Yates suggested.

"Perhaps." But the Time Lord was not convinced. He feigned a smile. "Never mind that; let's find Beethoven first, shall we?" He pulled the lever, starting the TARDIS on its latest journey. Even as they travelled through the Time Vortex, however, the Doctor couldn't stop looking at the strange device, that feeling of inexplicable sadness returning.