Chapter 10 - Visitors

The Doctor freezes. The Master immediately knows that something is wrong and, cursing, backs away.

"D-did you hear how many knocks?" he asks wildly, looking from the Master to the TARDIS doors. The Master shakes his head negatively. "He will knock four times," the Doctor repeats breathlessly, "And then…I die. Is this it? Now? Why does it have to be now?" He runs his hands through his hair, making it stand up wildly. The Master sighs.

"Are you going to answer it? Since when did we land?" He looks at the scanner. "We must have... bumped into the controls. We're at location of the next fragment. And it's in…oh, come on. Doctor?"

But the Doctor is already heading towards the doors, his shirt and jacket immaculately smooth. The Master makes an attempt to stop him but gives up, choosing to remain behind the console instead.

The Doctor takes a deep breath and opens the doors, taking a step forward to peer out with morbid curiosity.

And is slapped in the face. With a hand, this time, which hurts an awful lot more than a piece of toast.

Then, someone wraps their arms around him and squeezes the air out of him in a hug that propels him a few feet back into the TARDIS.

"Donna?" the Doctor says incredulously through a curtain of red hair. He backs away. She blocks the threshold, and his view of the outside

"Hello, spaceman!" she grins back at his hesitantly joyful face. "Never do that again," she warns him harshly.

"Do what?" he asks in utter confusion

"Leave me like that!" Donna says loudly, slapping him again, before wrapping him in another hug.

"I'm sorry, but how are you -"

"Long story! Car accident, coma, my brain kind of sorted itself out…I mean, I've picked up some random bits, I like bananas a lot more, I can remember vague things like -"

"Where are we, anyways, and how did you -"

"- And I'm certain you failed your driver's test! How can you not - Oh, hello!"

The Master takes a peak out from behind the console, only to be spotted by Donna. He smiles with all the famous charm he used when he was running for Prime Minister.

"I see you've picked up his habit for babbling," he says snidely, not sure how to react to the situation. The Doctor turns to narrow his eyes at the Master, who winks in response.

"The Master is back?" Donna says flatly. "The beard-y one? With the stalking and failed evil plans..." She trails off at the look on the Master's face then looks back to the Doctor. "What is he doing here?"

"I thought you only knew vague things?" the Doctor says, arms crossed defensively.

"And I have the vague feeling that you thought about him rather a lot over the years."

The Master snorts and sends a smug look to the Doctor.

"Are you two together yet?" She looks from the Master (who seems inconspicuously disheveled to the Doctor and suspiciously unkempt to Donna) back to the Doctor with a single raised eyebrow. The Master notes how like it is to the Doctor before he smirks at her, prompting a mischievously pleased expression that he's never seen on the Doctor (but wouldn't mind witnessing).

"Donna!" the Doctor says in protest.

"Come on, if I can tell from the vaguest memories, then -"

"Jack?" the Doctor says loudly, looking over Donna's shoulder. "Are we in Cardiff? Donna, do you work for Torchwood now?" The Master groans from behind the time rotor. Donna slips past the Doctor and properly into the TARDIS as the Doctor greets his friends outside excitedly. She approaches the Master, who is hiding his face in his hands.

"Hello. Nice to meet you?" Donna offers her hand. The Master peers at her through a gap in his fingers. "I guess not. I'm Donna."

"And I'm the Master," he sniffs her. "You're wrong, you know." It doesn't hurt to look at her, but it's still strange.

"Yeah, I know. Metacrisis."

"Oooh. Messy," he says. "What happened?"

"His hand," she nods in the Doctor's direction, outside the TARDIS. "It was cut off-"

"I know," the Master says impatiently. "Skip that bit."

"Well," She looks a little disheartened. "He was shot by a Dalek, and used the regeneration energy to heal himself, then channeled it back into the hand. Later on - it's a long story - the TARDIS was burning, I touched it. Metacrisis. Made another, half-human, Doctor. Half-Gallifreyan Donna. He erased my memories later on to save my life." The Master smiles, lost in thought.

"Two Doct-"

"Shut up, I'm not finished, there are more important things," she hisses. "We don't have much time until he finally convinces them that you're safe and comes in here to fetch us!" The Master tilts his head to the side, waiting. This could be interesting.

"All right," she begins, "I was crossing the street. I wasn't really paying attention, I was arguing with Nerys over the phone. A car came out of nowhere. At least," she takes a deep breath, her voice turning a little sad, "that's what they told me. I was in a coma for four months and two days. They couldn't figure out what had happened to me, there was so much activity in my brain." His eyebrows shoot up.

"You said he erased part of your mind," the Master says, trying to outsmart her. She talks very fast, even for a woman, he thinks.

"Not erased…just tucked the memories away. When I was in the coma, my brain tried to cope with that. One day, my brain activity went up, then stopped. The doctors told mum to shut me off, but Gramps wasn't having any of that. My…" she trails off, as if her words revive some sort of painful memory, "My heart stopped." He knows there is more to the story, because Donna is in front of him, clearly alive. He almost reaches out a hand to touch her arm, to make sure she isn't some sort of phantom, but he's very curious to hear the rest of her story before he even begins to debunk it.

"I'm not exactly sure what happened – they didn't see anything strange on security cameras – but the first thing I saw when I woke up-" she pauses again, contemplating her wording, "was your face."

"What?" he says loudly, then glances over at the Doctor. He's busy outside the TARDIS, talking to the others, and hasn't noticed yet (or is pretending not to).

"You were just looking at me. I didn't know who you were, and then this name just popped into my head, K -"

"That's enough. I know what it is," he says firmly. Donna looks at him hesitantly. "You have some of the Doctor's memories."

"You're in a lot of them. It's no wonder -"

"Listen to me," he growls, "I don't know what you think I did. I don't know if you even saw me. But let me make this clear. I did not do anything for you. I may not ever do anything for you. It might have been your imagination, or a memory, anything. Do not expect me to be some different, changed man. I did not bring you back to life." Donna purses her lips.

"You're traveling with the Doctor, though," she points out, trying to copy his tone and mood, "if my memory serves correctly," she pauses to assert her point. "That is one thing you would never do. You are different."

He leers at her, saying darkly, "You're smart. I like that. But don't think you know me from a few half-remembered recollections." She crosses her arms and glares at him. In the silence, a few voices carry in from outside and they both glance beyond the doors anxiously.

"Will you help me?" she asks quickly

"You still haven't explained to me why you need my help."

"I'm going to die," Donna starts.

The Doctor forces a smile when he sees the small group that's gathered outside the TARDIS. He has hardly met the Cardiff branch of Torchwood, as he's never much cared for the secret society. It had all started with Queen Victoria, years ago, and somehow the British institution had acquired a Cardiff base, led by Captain Jack Harkness and his team. He can admire his companion and his work towards saving the Earth (and Cardiff) from dangerous aliens, but cannot admire the work and policies of Torchwood. Some wounds that they caused ran too deep.

He tries not to stare too long at Captain Jack Harkness, his old friend and companion, as wrong and impossible as ever. He vaguely remembers Gwen, a seemingly nice woman. Of course, his face breaks into a real smile when he sees Martha, then into confusion when he notices Mickey beside her, hand in hand.

"Hello!" he beams.

"Doctor, it's great to see you," Martha smiles, coming in for a quick hug. "What are you doing here?" He takes a deep breath and tries to think. He looks around; they had landed in the deserted plaza in Cardiff, which presumably was nearby the Torchwood base.

"You know…same old-same old. I'm refueling," the Doctor nods. Jack raises an eyebrow.

"Are you traveling with someone?" he asks pointedly. He can't know, the Doctor thinks, the Master won't be revived for months on this timeline.

"Of course he is," Mickey says, sizing him up a bit more aggressively than the Doctor remembers Mickey ever being. He stares protectively at Martha, puffing his chest up a little bit. "Who else do you think Donna is talking to in there?" The Doctor turns and glimpses Donna's outline on the other side of the console. He has the strong urge to run and slam the doors, but he still needs to find the white-point star.

"So, you all work for Torchwood now?" he changes the subject.

"Yeah, I'm the medic, Mickey is the tin dog," she punches him in the arm playfully and the Doctor suppresses a smile, "and Donna has become an extra out in the field. She's brilliant."

"Is that all you've been up to?" he looks rather pointedly at Jack.

"Uh, yeah, it's just us six," he laughs a little nervously. The Doctor squints at him suspiciously.

"Six?"

"Ianto is in the Hub, making us coffees," he supplies.

"The Hub?" the Doctor raises an eyebrow.

"Our secret underground base. Wanna see?" Jack sends him a flirty smile, and the Doctor rolls his eyes.

"Very dramatic name. Actually, I kind of am here on business. Has anything come through the Rift recently?" It becomes clear to Martha that he's just there on business, not to visit them. Her jaw sets in disappointment and Mickey wraps a protective arm around her.

"Refueling, huh?" Jack says flatly, let down as well, "What trouble are you in now?" He hits the Doctor lightly on the arm, trying to relieve tension (well, one type of tension).

"I'm looking for a fragment of a crystal. It would be very small, like a diamond, but very, very important."

"I'll call Ianto, and see if he can find anything in the databases," Gwen offers. She seems glad for the excuse to step aside for a moment, but listens intently to their conversation.

"So, what about you two?" the Doctor asks, raising an eyebrow at their joined hands. Martha grins.

"We're engaged," she bubbles, holding up her hand to show him the ring. "We live here in Cardiff, obviously, since I left U.N.I.T. and Jack offered to take the two of us up. We're getting married in a week." They both look very proud.

"Congratulations!" the Doctor grins. It seems like only yesterday that Mickey was shooting the Doctor jealous, protective looks because of Rose. He's genuinely happy for them. "You two couldn't be doing bet -"

"Do I hear wedding bells?"

The Doctor spins around to see the Master grinning at them from the doors of the TARDIS. He continues, "Am I invited?" Donna stands by the Master's shoulder, a thoughtful look on her face.

The distinct clinking of a gun being cocked catches the Doctor's ears. He turns to see Martha, gun in hand, pointing it straight at the Master. Her face has turned to stone, hiding her shock and fear.

"Doctor, what is he doing here?" Martha asks.

"How are you still alive?" Jack asks the Master at the same time. He only leers at them.

"Please, don't, Martha, set down the gun!" The Doctor holds his hands forward, trying to calm the tension that has quickly built up. He can do nothing but stare in horror at the barrel of the gun.

"Is this him?" Mickey asks Martha quietly, but it's loud in the silence that has fallen.

"Yep, it's me! The Master," the Master grins, and steps out of the TARDIS. Donna takes his former place in the threshold.

"Stop it," the Doctor hisses quietly at the Master, "don't taunt them." The Master ignores him and stands firmly with his arms crossed.

"Here's the Freak," he says, nods exaggeratedly at Jack, "your precious ex-girlfriend," winks at Martha, "and…Hmm. The tin dog?" he asks, smirking. The Doctor's hearts sink when he realizes that Martha isn't practicing trigger safety. She's aiming to kill. He steps in front of her without thinking it over, shielding the Master. Martha visibly wavers, almost setting down the gun, then settles by taking her shaky finger off the trigger.

"Doctor…" she trails off weakly. The Doctor doesn't move. This isn't happening again, he thinks. They all freeze and stare at him, knowing exactly what message the Doctor is sending.

"Martha," the Doctor starts, still holding his hands aloft, as if they can ward off bullets. "I can explain everything. Just calm down." She doesn't move.

"Martha," Donna says softly, echoing the Doctor, "listen to the Doctor."

"Listen? You listen. You can't control him, can't trust him. Why is he here? Why isn't he restrained?" Jack says sternly. They're ganging up on him.

"If we all just calm do-"

"Put the gun down, Martha," a strangely calm command comes from behind the Doctor. They can scarcely believe that such a composed voice could come from the Master. He wants to turn and look at the Master, but he can't take his eyes off the barrel of the gun. It can't be Martha, he tells himself. Then he remembers the knocking, merely moments ago. His legs almost give out beneath him.

"Yeah? And why should I listen to you? Why shouldn't I just shoot you and stop you now?" Martha's stance is like a soldier's. The Doctor thinks to himself, what has he done to her?

"Because you'd have to shoot me first," the Doctor says darkly. Martha just looks at him, like he's a stranger.

"The Doctor is the only person who can stop me. You kill him…" the Master trails off. "You'll get to me eventually, but if you shoot him first it will be a very long eventually." Martha looks from the Master to the Doctor, waiting for his response.

"He's right," the Doctor mutters. "Listen to him."

"What?" Martha spits in disbelief. After a moment's hesitation, she lowers the gun, thinking, whose side is he on? What has happened to him?

"Let's go down to the Hub," Donna says wisely, stepping up to Martha as she slips her gun back in its holster. She wraps a comforting arm around her. Martha stiffens against her and she draws back slightly, trying to be delicate.

"I don't want him down there with all of that technology," Jack says quickly.

"He'll behave," the Doctor shoves his hands into his pockets and narrows his eyes at the Master, who nods in a lazy, exasperated fashion.

Jack sighs and halfheartedly begins to lead them away from the TARDIS. Gwen sees this as her moment to stop listening and speak, and steps beside him and tugs on his coat, stopping him in his tracks.

"Jack, are you sure about this?" she asks. His eyes say no, but another glimpse at the Doctor makes him nod his head. "Because you said that about John, and look what happened with that." Jack's eyes flare up.

"You think that I meant for that to happen?"

"From what I know about him," she inclines her head at the Master, who is now watching her carefully, "he is ten times more dangerous." Jack sighs.

"Go home to Rhys."

"Excuse me?" Gwen looks livid.

"If you're worried that he'll incapacitate us, go home. If you don't hear from me in a few hours, check back."

"Jack, you can't ask me to leave!"

"I'm not asking." His eyes, the eyes that express so much, the eyes she constantly has to remind herself to avoid but always fails, plead with her.

"Oh, alright. But I want to hear from you every two hours or so," she begins to back away. "Don't hesitate to call me if you need another hand." Jack looks at her with a hesitant smile.

"Don't worry. We've got the best," Jack calls to her retreating figure. He grins at the others, Mickey, Martha, Donna, and the Doctor; then frowns slightly at the Master. "Let's go," he says hesitantly, and continues towards the Bay.

The Doctor recognizes their location; he'd landed here the last two or three times he'd been in Cardiff. It seems very tourist-y for him. There aren't many people about, however; it's rainy and beginning to get dark. He wonders if Torchwood even operates during the daytime. With Jack's love of dramatics, it would make sense. He assumes that they're heading towards the entrance to the Hub, as Jack has called it. As much as he's disliked Torchwood, he wishes that he knew more about it.

The Master slides into step behind the Doctor after a few moments of silent observation.

"You don't hate me, do you?" He mutters out of the corner of his mouth, so none of the Doctor's nosy friends can listen.

"I told you," the Doctor replies.

"She wouldn't have shot you, anyways," the Master reassures him.

"What about the four knocks? That can't be a coincidence."

"Donna isn't a 'he.'" The Doctor stumbles a bit in realization.

"He will knock four times," he groans. "Well, now I just have to watch out for men."

"Before you automatically think it's me, remember the part where you don't hate me," the Master says.

They come to a halt in front of what seems to be a little office before the Doctor can answer. Jack opens the door and ushers them inside the crowded little place. A man in a suit is sitting behind a counter covered in tourist brochures, reading a local newspaper with a large headline concerning serial murders. The Master takes a moment to appreciate the clever alliteration (and the crime) before scrutinizing the small office critically.

"This is Ianto," Jack says, then introduces them all. They linger in the small room for an awkward moment, none of them comfortable enough to speak. Martha and Mickey feel too tense to do anything but stand there. Jack eyes Donna, her mouth tight as she is lost in her thoughts. A secret passage opens and they filter though the gap, Ianto lulling behind. The vault-like door rolls aside, and the metal bars part with warning lights that flicker off the Doctor's shocked eyes. The Master has been here before; when he explored the ruins during the year he reigned over the Earth, and looks less impressed.

The Doctor looks up and sees a large reptile flying above them, screeching and calling through the large, echoing canyon. "You have a pterosaur," he observes flatly.

"Does she have a name?" the Master asks curiously. He had briefly considered training the creature the last time he was here. She had nearly bitten his head off.

"Because everyone names their pet pterosaurs," the Doctor counters sarcastically.

"Ahem, Ramsay," he replies.

"How did you-? That wasn't a pterosaur. And Charley named him."

"Girls, shut up!" Donna says, pushing them both aside to walk over to one of the computers.

"Her name is Myfanwy," Ianto murmurs as he appears behind the Doctor with a tray of coffees. The Doctor smiles and thanks him as he takes one. The Master declines, narrowing his eyes at Ianto.

"Fine. Can I have a pet vortisaur?" he asks the Doctor, who is about to retort snappishly when he catches Donna's eye.

"So this is Torchwood," he says loudly, ignoring most of the glares he's getting and looking around. "Nice place. Very big. Very secr - oh, hello! You certainly aren't keeping this." The Doctor is distracted by a particularly interesting piece of technology and begins arguing with Jack in an instant. Martha clears her throat.

"Doctor, can you please just explain to us what you're looking for?" She looks very impatient. The Doctor sighs, pockets the contested item, and walks over to her and Mickey. They're sitting in front of some computer screens that display everything from charts to CCTV.

"Recorded Rift activity with a very specific signal…here, allow me."

Mickey steps aside to let the Doctor begin, his fingers typing out advanced codes straight into the computer at speeds that Jack hasn't seen since Tosh. The group gathers around the computers in a semi-circle, watching the Doctor and trying to keep up. He finally finds the result he's looking for, and with a brief "Ha!" and a quick transmission of data from the computer to the handheld device he's already confiscated, he spins around in his chair, grinning. His smile slides from his face as he jumps hastily to his feet.

"Where's the Master?" he groans.

"Will it - do you think it will cause permanent brain damage?" Donna says. She is laying on Torchwood's medical examining table. The Master holds a scanner over her head, and is scrutinizing the readings that he sees. He shuts the machine off. She sits up on the cool metal table, trying not to think of all of the strange things that have been autopsied here, or…worse. It is Torchwood.

"Probably not. I'm not an expert on biology." Except, by human standards, which is why she chose him. "I had a friend who was, but I never picked it up." The Master shrugs. He looks around the sunken medical wing of Torchwood with a repressed shiver. The tiles are damp underfoot and the air is musty, a pitfall of being underground. Pun intended.

"The Rani," Donna mumbles automatically, putting a hand to her forehead. They both sigh in disappointment at her reaction. He checks her pulse.

"If we can't keep him here any longer, you'll have to come traveling with us," the Master groans. She slides off of the table.

"Is that such a bad thing?" Donna asks, offended. She tries to keep her voice down.

"No, it's just -"

"You two! What are you doing down there?" Jack's voice booms over them from above. Donna and the Master look up to see Jack standing on the higher ground above them, his arms crossed.

"Giving him the grand tour while Space Boy up there flaunts his computers skills," Donna shoots back quickly. The Master appraises her again. She's a lot sharper than she looks, and not all of that is from the influence of the Doctor's mind.

"He's dangerous, Donna," Martha says to her as she climbs the stairs.

"Thank you," the Master says with his signature smile. Martha narrows her eyes at him.

The Doctor is standing a little ways from them, frowning at the Master. He holds up the handheld device, saying, "I found a way to track it," and, before the Master can reply, "but we need to talk." The Master rolls his eyes, crosses his own arms, and sighs.

"What?"

"Donna," the Doctor starts. She nods in instant understanding before he can even make a request, and leads them downstairs.

"You have to respect Torchwood, don't you," the Master laughs, "they send their visitors to the Weevil-infested-dungeons so they can talk in private."

"They're not called Weevils," the Doctor starts, pulling his coat closer about him in the chilly damp. "And listen."

"No," the Master growls, "you listen." He steps forward and grabs the Doctor's shoulders, pulling him down and kissing him fiercely before stopping for air. He presses their foreheads together and hisses, "You need me. So don't lecture me about behaving and how you can track the crystal on your own. I'm coming with you whether you like it or not, not waiting in some run-down, dirty, obsolete hole with your ex-girlfriends. It's a hell of a lot more dangerous than having me around."

The Doctor swallows and hesitates before pulling away. He has a point.

"Fine." He starts to walk away, and then tilts his head slightly to the side. "What was that for?" he asks.

"Wha-the kiss?" he says blankly. "I've wanted to do that since you said 'you'd have to shoot me first,'" he smiles, a shiver running down his spine. "Don't ever look at anyone else that way again. It's not decent." The Doctor holds back a grin. "Oh, and, would you reconsider the vortisaur?"

The Doctor can't help himself; he kisses the mischievous look right off the Master's face.

"Donna, why did you send them to the cells? There's a perfectly nice conference room upstairs," Ianto points out.

"They don't know that," she says, rushing over to the computers and bringing up the CCTV. "Here we are!" They gather round reluctantly.

"There's CCTV in every room," Ianto continues.

"It's a Torchwood tradition," Donna says, hushing them. Everyone but Ianto gasps when the Time Lords kiss in the murky light. "Don't tell me that you haven't all been caught," she tries to bite back her smile. Ianto turns pink. "I think there's something in the air down there."

"God, I think I need retcon," Martha gasps, strangely unable to look away.

"I wish Rose could see this," Mickey laughs.

Jack is silent, his face caught between disappointment and some sort of twisted satisfaction. He says, "He's very aggressive, though, you'd think it would be an odd match." He chuckles as the Master slams the Doctor up against a cell. Martha shivers and turns away.

"It's like he's just wiped out everything that man has done." Mickey frowns and pulls Martha away from the screen and embraces her, rubbing circles into her back. He still watches over her shoulder.

"Gotta love Torchwood traditions," Jack says decidedly. They all laugh as Janet the Weevil roars from inside the cell, scaring the two men away from her cell wall. "Everyone has to participate."

Donna crosses her arms and leans back in her chair, glancing from Mickey and Martha to Jack and Ianto out of the corner of her eye. "Yeah," she says softly, "everyone except me."

"So, what have we got, Doctor?" Jack is playing the part of overconfident, methodical leader upon the Doctor and Master's return. The Master rolls his eyes at his overly serious tone. To his surprise, the Doctor also seems serious, and a little sad. He keeps his eyes trained on the handheld device he pocketed.

"It's in the sewers," he starts, to everyone's horror. "In a giant sort of cavern that they're connected to." He buzzes the sonic screwdriver over the device and grins in delight as a map appears around the blinking light that is the location of the fragment. "We'll have to get down into the sewers, then work our way there."

"The Weevils live down there," Martha says firmly, her hand flitting over her gun. The Doctor doesn't notice. "They're like monsters, brutal and violent. It'll be difficult."

"That's what we do, though, isn't it?" Donna answers her worries softly.

The Doctor looks around at the group with pride and satisfaction, saving his last anxious glance for the Master. Donna, Martha, Jack, the Master, and the Doctor all walk away from the safe lights of the Plaza with a spring in their step and the darkness of night at their heels.