He liked to tell himself that he had been enjoying his retirement. After so many years, he had desperately needed to stop unless he would finally lose himself for good. He'd settled down despite the pleas for him to continue from so many people. They'd all been given the same, rehearsed response - he couldn't carry on anymore. They'd all returned with the same defiant remark, that the universe would always need saving and he'd always been the best at accomplishing that. Again, he'd repeated the same, practiced tired words - there would be more people to do that job now. He'd even trained a few of them. Yet, he'd known, deep down, what the reason was for him having to make sure his answers were well-imprinted on his mind; it hurt too much to give it up and his mouth would have betrayed him otherwise.
The Curator had settled down. He'd chosen his favourite planet to grow old on. Earth was a magnificent place, so full of character and charm, people and animals, vibrancy and brightness. That was forgetting the rather darker aspects of the planet that he'd been working on throughout his life. Who was to say that he couldn't continue making progress on that front, even if he was meant to be 'relaxing'. London was a microcosm of what made Earth so wonderful and yet so disastrous, which explained why he had bought a comfortable townhouse right in the centre. That's right - he had money now! Money to spend on essentials but mainly on non-essentials, like hats, scarves, umbrellas and, most importantly, biscuits. The building wasn't too large to be seen as extravagant but it also wasn't shabby either. He deserved to have some luxury after all. A grand piano sat in the living room. Tropical and rare plants littered the house just like a very old friend had once had. Photos adorned the walls alongside exquisite paintings. He'd made sure to hang a picture of everyone he could remember, some having larger frames than others, and he paid all of them a visit every morning to ensure they stayed with him in the one way they could. Memories. Dreadful things really. They just made him want to get out more despite the protests his body gave out. He remembered the times when his body had been able to do a lot more and it would put him in an exceptionally grumpy mood.
It wasn't as if he didn't go out. If he wasn't spending time in the garden, looking after the various plants and checking on the bees he kept (at least the majority of which were from Earth), he was at the Under Gallery, his main place of work. He enjoyed it there, the secrecy of it all. He even had a special lanyard with his own photo ID that would allow him to walk through the National Gallery whenever he needed to. It was a joy to deal with the strange artworks he discovered, from tracking them down, dealing with normally brusque owners, to keeping them in pristine condition. As well as making sure they didn't bring about the end of the universe, which some of them were definitely capable of in the wrong hands.
Speaking of, he hadn't expected the end of the universe to come about so soon. Time always got away from him. The rift in the sky, the ships hovering above the planet, the millions of aliens walking on the Earth's surface. It had all been so familiar since he'd...well...already lived through it once. He'd known that he couldn't get involved straight away since he hadn't seen himself when all that was happening the first time he'd gone through it. Dear, time was a confusing thing and a very delicate thing to mess with, especially in the state it currently was in. He'd always wondered what had caused him to leave the safety of his home and abandon the promise of his retirement. The latter was always going to happen easily. The Doctor lies, after all. Rule number one. He just hadn't expected the cause to be the sudden appearance of a man he didn't know right in the middle of his private library.
He was in the middle of dusting off a pristine set of first edition Dickens, gifted by the man himself, when it happened. A swirl of golden energy, small at first but constantly expanding, got his attention. He placed the books down carefully before approaching the time fracture slowly. He was about to reach out to it (because, why not?) when it had dissipated. In its place was a dazed man, a larger than average one from the look of him. His eyes were blinking as he adjusted to the new scene in front of him, the Curator keeping him balanced as he staggered around occasionally. They were both equally perplexed as to what was going on.
"Dearie me, look at the state of you," the Curator mumbled with a pointed look. "Care to explain why you just popped into existence in my home?"
"What? What the hell is going on? I was just about to put the kettle on…" the new man said in disbelief, reaching out as if he'd still be able to touch the device.
"Hmm. How peculiar. Stand still, will you?" He picked up a small object that he didn't tend to use very often anymore, the metal tube emitting a strange sonic chirp as he scanned the intruder. He looked at the readings and his initial suspicions were confirmed. "Tell me, what year is it?"
"Have you been drinking? It's 2004."
"I'm afraid to say that it isn't. From my reckoning, you've travelled precisely eleven years into the future. By accident, from the looks of things."
"Don't be stupid."
"Are you always so rude to people who invite you into their humble abodes?"
"You...didn't invite me in."
"I also didn't kick you out immediately. Same difference." He gave the other man a wink and moved him to the large armchair in the corner. "Sit, sit. Do you have a name by any chance?"
"Clive...Clive Finch."
"Nice to meet you, Clive Finch. Would you care for some tea?"
"No! You can tell me what is going on! Why are you so...relaxed about this?"
"One can't be surprised by something that has happened to him so often. The tedium of life. But I guess I can fulfil your curiosity. You've been transported through time. An accident. And I think I know why." He moved to the window and pulled open the curtains, looking at the now orange sky. He nervously chewed on his fingers as he looked back at Clive, who was just as concerned.
"Time travel isn't possible!"
"Do you really think that? You've just gone through it. Were you paying attention?" Clive's eyes went wide as he took a moment to look at the man looming over him. It couldn't be. Not after all this time…But the way he was talking, the way he was acting. The fact that he didn't seem at all fazed by this strange scenario. He'd come to know what sort of a man the Doctor was and this person was definitely behaving in a similar fashion.
"Are you...him?" he asked anxiously. He'd spent so much time researching him, driving his family crazy over his supposed conspiracy theories.
"Him? You might have to be more specific. If you mean him, then I must say that I haven't been him for quite some time." Clive was baffled by the way the old man spoke. Always in riddles. "I'm the Curator. That's all you need to know."
"I need to know why I'm the one who has been placed over a decade into my future!"
"I simply do not know. It could be completely random. Or you must be a very special person."
"I'm nothing special. Someone who wanted to know about the extraordinary whilst living a perfectly normal life. I didn't ask for this!" The Curator frowned at him.
"No, that won't do. In all my years, I have never met someone who is not inherently special. If you say that you are, then, my friend, you are truly special and unique!" He always loved finding loopholes. He chucked a small machine at his new friend, who managed to catch it just in time.
"What's this?"
"Protection."
"Against what?"
"The outside world can be a dangerous place."
"We're going outside?"
"Of course we are! Where's your sense of adventure?"
So they'd ventured into the outer world cautiously, the Curator having to comfort Clive when he saw the destruction London had suffered. Metal bodies littered the streets and the older of the two occasionally strolled up to one to make sure that it was dead and, more importantly, to find out why it had happened. He was always curious.
"What are these things?" Clive had asked as he was forced to stop once more. He just wanted to get to wherever this man wanted to go, not feeling safe at all.
"You don't know? They've certainly invaded your planet a number of times. Or maybe you have that all to look forward to. Sorry for ruining that surprise. These were Cybermen. The supposed next level to your evolution."
"They're...they're humans?" He wanted to reach out and touch one but was too disgusted to do so.
"They haven't been for a very long time. And any suffering they were still going through has thankfully come to an end. Through some sort of emotional explosion. The work of someone very clever, if I do say so myself. Let's go find him." They continued to walk through the empty streets as they saw a strange group of people heading in the same direction the Curator was wanting to go before the monsters had appeared. Before they'd started attacking. Before those people had run away, leaving one of their own to fend of the creatures. Before they'd felt the need to intervene, using the nifty gadgets he'd remembered to bring along.
At the same time, the Doctor and Clara were standing over Malcolm's shoulder as they watched him work, Perkins messing with the cables underneath the desk. It was then that the intercom buzzed into life, a live feed of those they'd been looking for appearing on the same screen the Doctor's had when he returned. It kept glitching and cutting out but at least they knew that they were safe. For now.
"Doctor!" Martha's voice rang out. "Let us in! The door's closed and let's just say that we don't want to spend anymore time up here if it can be helped." The Time Lord glanced over at Kate in confusion, wondering why this was a problem at all.
"Why can't they get in? Can't they use the same code you gave me?" he asked.
"Not at the moment, no. We allowed you to come in anyway. But right now, the base is under mandatory lockdown because of the power shortage. It saves electricity, you see. Fully automated. We can't grant them access."
"You humans and your stupid need for computers to run your entire lives," he muttered darkly. "You need to find a way. Whatever is going on, it doesn't sound particularly good."
"Maybe if we were able to divert power to the locking mechanism, we'd be able to override it but, as you can see, we're struggling to even sort out our communications capabilities."
"I think I can help with that," Sarah Jane said as she entered the room, waving her mobile phone. "You were right, Doctor. I was able to get through to Mr Smith. Luke's alright, by the way. Staying inside like he was told."
"How can that sort this out though?" Clara wondered, seeing no correlation.
"He has his own power source. I made sure to create a link between him and K9. They both complained quite a bit about it but I had the final say. If he can send the codes we need through, we'd be able to open the doors for them."
"It won't be enough," the Doctor responded, much to their disappointment. "This base is massive so the power source would have to be equally as big. You'd have the way to open the doors without having the method to implement it."
"A large power source, you say?" Clara asked. He nodded his head, watching her casually stroll away. She leaned against the Tardis with a smirk, enjoying how he had missed the obvious. "Maybe the greatest time machine in the universe will be able to lend a helping hand?" His eyes lit up and he would have kissed her if there hadn't been so many people around.
"Have I told you how brilliant you are?"
"Not nearly enough." He grinned as he rushed over to the ship, pushing open the doors.
"Sarah, bring K9 over to where Malcolm is working and have that code ready." He moved into the console room, down below the main floor and started moving a grate from its place on the floor. He disconnected a large wire from its original socket, much to the indignation of the machine, before dragging up the steps and back into the UNIT control room. "This should do the trick. I thought it best not to use one of the main cables because that would fry the entire systems in a second. But this one should give us enough oomph that we need." He moved Perkins out of the way as he dived under the computers, waving his sonic about and ripping out things that were just getting in the way. Kate was going to complain about how much he was damaging their property but though that it was best to leave him to it. It was a dangerous thing to get in between him and a computer. Another lesson her father had told her. After a few seconds of sonic waving and disgruntled moans, his face appeared again, falling on the metal dog that was now by his side.
"Ah, K9...could you send the codes over to the computer Malcolm is on?"
"Affirmative, Master," came its tinny reply. It rolled over to the device, its antennae moving out and connecting with it. The screen flashed up with a download bar.
"Would I like to accept this data transfer?" the scientist read out. "Don't mind if I do!" He smashed the enter button and the room, which had been darker than its usual self, brightened considerably. The lights that hadn't been working now flickered into life. The screens that had powered off now showed their displays once again. "You lot can come in now," he said into the speaker with a relieved smile. Clara held up her hand to the Doctor, waiting for a high-five, but he just looked at it dismissively. She scowled. She really needed to train him more on certain things.
It wasn't long before the group that had gone to deal with the Cybermen returned to them, panting from the exhaustion that running had caused. They were surprised to see Pol Kon Don with them but they weren't about to ask the grumpy creature about its presence. It was easier to just accept it for the time being.
"Took you long enough!" Mickey exclaimed, bent over with his hands on his knees.
"You might have noticed a dire change to the situation so we were slightly preoccupied. You should learn to have a bit more patience," the Doctor commented.
"Patience? You try having patience when you're trying to run away from those...things!" The Doctor's expression darkened as they looked at each in confusion. That sounded ominous.
"What do you mean, 'things'?" he dared to ask.
"It was if one threat was replaced by another," Martha answered for her husband. "When the sky changed - you still need to explain what that is, by the way - these...creatures appeared all around us."
"They were horrid things," Nardole continued, the dark memory still fresh in his mind. "Grey and blue, they were. They were targeting the soldiers. If they touched someone, it was like they just shrivelled up instantly!" The Doctor and Clara shared a knowing glance, which Kate picked up on.
"You've met them before, haven't you? You know what these monsters are," she said.
"Judging from the description and because of what's going on, I'd say yes," the Doctor replied. "Quite recently. I'd never come across them before. A Dromulus. They feed on time energy, harvesting any living creature of the years its lived to fulfil their hunger. You wanted to know why the sky is like what it is. The rift has widened, causing an influx of that same time energy to flood the planet. That's what must have attracted them, like it's some massive banquet for them."
"We've already lost Osgood because of it," Kate added.
"What do you mean by that?" Martha said, instantly worried. "Did one of these Dromulus get her?"
"No. The rift opening has caused people to be misplaced in time," the Doctor explained. "They can vanish in an instant. I think that the effects only happen as it widened so no one else should disappear."
"Like the Slitheen," she whispered, eyeing Mickey.
"Hmm?"
"When the rift opened the first time, I was being chased by a Slitheen. I only survived because it vanished just as it was about to get me." The Doctor pondered this little bit of information.
"That would be a reasonable explanation. Either you're very lucky or the universe somehow knew how important you are." Clara tugged on his jacket sleeve.
"Kate said that Wilf was with them. But he's not here," she pointed out. She'd grown quite close to the old man during the time the Doctor had left her so she was now scared that something had happened to him.
"About that...he took it upon himself to distract the Dromulus when it cornered us. It was chasing after him when we got here."
"And you allowed him to do that?" Clara shouted. "What sort of a person would agree to that? He's old! He won't have been able to get very far." Even the Doctor looked furious at his former companions but a deep voice sounded from the door of the room, attracting their attention.
"There's no need to worry about your poor friend, Wilfred," the man said as he appeared, followed by the man in question along with another. "We saw to it that he remained perfectly safe. Not even a scratch. No need to thank us."
"You," the Doctor said in a low voice.
"Me. Or you. Whichever you prefer. I'm not fussy." The Curator was having too much fun, enjoying this rare taste of adventure. "Now, I think I've got quite a lot of catching up to do, don't you?"
xxxxxxxxx
Any jubilation they'd had was now long gone as they looked around in panic, looking to the Doctor for the answers they needed, craved, relied upon. This was his job. They might have acted brave during the battle but their true fears were coming to light in the face of the unknown. They glanced up at the sky, which, to them, looked like it was on fire. As if Hell itself had decided to come up and see them. Where they had been watching the Sontaran ships try and cope with the damage they'd sustained mere moments ago, they were now under the watchful eye of the rift, its golden sneer laughing down at them. He pointed his sonic screwdriver at it, trying to get a sense of what this all meant. The readings he got did little to stop his worries. This was bad. More than bad. Apocalyptic. Where Jenny had been hugging him when all seemed good in the world, she was now clinging onto his arm, her eyes searching his own in a way that made both his hearts break. They were all relying upon him. His burden. His responsibility.
"Doc, what's going on?" Graham asked with a shaky voice. Yaz was close by his side, the two of them seeking comfort by holding hands. When he looked at her now, all he could see was the young woman who she really was, the one who wanted to act all tough and grown up but who was actually just as scared as anyone would be. Before the Doctor could give an answer, the scenario took a turn for the worse. The landscape changed before their very eyes, massive green vines somehow appearing out of nowhere, wrapping themselves around the tower blocks that were still standing. The urban ghost town transformed into a tangle of plants that they'd never seen before, almost blocking out the dead sky. They were in a jungle, roots cracking through the concrete and tarmac underneath them, making them move out of the way unless they wanted to become a part of it too. The Doctor didn't know how it was all happening so fast, the rift having such a large impact in such a short space of time.
Then the army they had recruited started fading away, expressions of shock and outright fear on the faces of the few Zygons that were unlucky enough to be ensnared in the rift's trap. Hayley was moving to her comrades, shouting for help as she tried to no avail to save them. The rest of them gave into her shouts of anguish, hoping their efforts would bring more success. But it didn't. Then a cry behind them as Mackenzie looked at his hand or where his hand had been a second before. He was transfixed as his arm simply ceased to exist.
"Doctor! What's happening to me?" The soldier's voice was distant, an echo. As if his soul had already been taken but his body was still yet to follow. Jack moved to help him, reaching out to grab the hand that was still clinging onto existence.
"Jack! Don't!" the Doctor yelled. "We don't know whether you'll be taken too if you touch him." The other man hardly hesitated, closing the distance.
"I've got to try at least!" he responded angrily. There was no effect as he grabbed the other man's hand, just seeing the continued dissolving of Mackenzie's body. He looked into his eyes, the facade of the tough soldier slipping away in the last moments. A single tear. A tear that vanished with the rest of him. Jack kept his hand in the same position, unable to move, his mouth opening and closing. That final look he'd been given would haunt him for a long time. Not just the horror, the alarm, the panic. It was the acceptance of it all, how he gave into it.
About a quarter of the Zygons were no longer there, despite how much they'd tried to keep them with them. Hayley marched over to the Doctor, demanding answers. It seemed that the rest of them were in the same boat.
"Where have they gone?" she screeched furiously. "What has happened to my people?" He scanned where one had been standing, getting the results that he expected.
"I don't know where they've gone precisely. The rift widening has caused a time leakage. They've been displaced through time. The same goes for Mackenzie."
"They're not dead?"
"As far as I can tell. But it all depends on where and when they ended up."
"Then...bring them back." Her voice sounded so small now. He doubted that she had ever seen something like this happen before. How could she have?"
"I can't," he said simply. She nodded her head solemnly.
"How come the majority of us weren't affected?" his daughter asked. He shrugged his shoulders.
"You probably weren't because you're not of this time. You're already technically an anomaly here."
"And those who are?" She was looking at the likes of Graham and Yaz, who were listening intently.
"Nothing more than luck. Let's not think about it too much. Just be thankful that you're okay."
"Doctor!" Vastra got his attention before he could elaborate, standing over by the new vines with Jenny and Strax. She was inspecting them closely as Strax brought his scanner over them.
"How did all of these plants just appear?" Yaz asked the obvious question. "I didn't think a massive gaping hole in time would have green fingers."
"That's the thing," the Silurian continued. "I know these plants. I have seen these before. A very long time ago."
"How long?" Graham queried.
"Oh, about sixty-five million years ago." His eyes widened and he stepped further away from the vines.
"The rift is messing with the planet's time zone," the Doctor explained. "It's brought this vegetation from the Jurassic and Cretaceous periods to the modern day. I don't know how far this will be going on for. It could be just here on the whole of Russia. Maybe even the planet. Or the effects might be different in other places."
"Jurassic? Cretaceous?" Graham moaned. "If I get eaten by a T-Rex, I am not going to be happy!"
"I think we'd know if there was one of those roaming about," Vastra commented with a sly smile. "It has been such a long time since I got to face one." The vines had become a part of one of the buildings where they were standing and the Doctor noticed a small beeping sound coming from within it. He shushed them as he put his finger to his lips, pressing his ear against the glass.
"What is it?" Jenny asked.
"I don't know. We need to get inside." He gestured to Vastra, who took it as her cue to slice the thick vegetation apart using her blade. They managed to prise open the doors, walking into the cold, abandoned building. There was a flashing light on the nearest wall to them, which the Time Lord immediately went towards. It was a metal disc, the size of a plate but much thicker and bronze in colour. They all recognised it from before. "Oh. It's one of the weapons the Sontarans were using to make these buildings collapse. They must have left it behind by accident when they were fleeing. I'm not one to waste a situation like this." The machine came off the wall easily and he placed it into the inside of his coat, the rest of them wondering how it could possibly fit.
"What do we do now, Doctor?" Jack asked. "We deal with one problem and another sprouts its ugly head."
"First, we need to try and get out of here," came the answer. "Then regroup with the others. If they've managed to survive so far." They grimaced at his choice of words. He glanced at Hayley, who was still looking forlornly at the sight of the mass disappearances. "You should come with us. You can't do anything here now."
"I...should be here with my people. Helping them through this," she replied hesitantly.
"But they have their own leaders," Graham pointed out. "You told us."
"And when I said that I can't save them. I meant that I can't save them here. It's about time that I fought this problem dead on. No more running. If I can close the rift, and it's a long shot, then maybe it's a possibility that they'll just come back. But I promise you this...I will try my hardest to save them. Every one of them."
xxxxxxxxxx
It was as if the Supreme Dalek's arrival had triggered the apocalyptic event, the rift opening as it began to speak. It was equally as unnerved by what was happening, its eyestalk directed straight at the Doctor as it demanded answers.
"What is happening? Explain or be exterminated!" it roared. He put his hands in a peaceful manner, not wanting to antagonise the creature when he'd hoped for some successful negotiations to take place.
"Don't shoot!" he nervously said. "There's no need to shoot. We're just as in the dark as you are right now." He expected the Dalek to respond but nothing came from it. His eyes widened as he looked at it again. The red and gold paint began to flake away, its metal body visibly rusting before their very eyes. The movements it had been doing slowed down, more disjointed and clunky before they ceased all together.
"What...is happening...to me?" Its voice was even more mangled than usual, deeper, croakier, harsher. "Ex...ex...plain!" The blue light dimmed to blackness as the eyestalk fell down slowly. The Doctor glanced at the others as he tried to piece this together. He turned his attention to the scene above them, his mind blocking out the sight of sky as he squinted at a few of the Dalek ships. He couldn't tell from such a distance but several of them appeared to have suffered similar effects like their former leader, their gold colour less bright and shiny. Patches of dirt and blackness were spreading over them, their engines groaning loudly. He didn't like how they seemed to be sputtering out of life. And then one of them, having been hovering above them like the rest of the ships, began to point downwards ominously.
"We need to get out of here. Now!" he shouted, grabbing Cassandra by the shoulders to get her up from the ground where she had previously been working. As the Dalek ship started to nosedive towards where they were, they began to run away from the park. Rory was making sure that his dad kept up, Amy checking back every few seconds to make sure they weren't falling behind. Ko Sharmus and the General, who were considerably older than the rest of them, were trying their best to maintain a fast enough pace, Cassandra helping Ko Sharmus around a corner. River Song had to jump over a piece of debris as rusted pieces of metal began to rain down, already having broken off from the main vessel. The Doctor directed them down the street, using a tall building as cover to act as a defence if they weren't quick enough. They didn't stop to look back, simply running as fast as they could. The sound of the ship got louder and louder as it neared the planet's surface. The two Tardises were still parked down the alley in the distance, their primary target if they could get to them in time. The bright sky, casting a dazzling light over them, soon disappeared, the imposing shadow of the spacecraft blocking it out. They weren't going to make it. The Doctor jumped over a low brick wall and dived for cover, the others doing the same as they reached the same point.
Silence.
Then a massive bang that followed the crashing of the ship, the circular vessel churning up the ground, decimating the park they'd just been in a few minutes before. As it connected with the surface, a cloud of dirt and rock and dust formed, billowing towards them. Rory covered Amy and Brian's bodies as best he could, the Doctor sheltering River even if she would complain about his over-protectiveness afterwards. They closed their eyes and gritted their teeth as darkness descended on them, rubble torn up by the crash flying above their heads. The General saw a car smash into a building due to the force before his eyes settled on a large chunk of rock heading straight for Cassandra. Without thinking, he dove towards her, pushing her further to the floor. He winced and shouted out in pain as it connected with his arm. He stayed on top of her as they kept sheltered until it finally ended. The Doctor was the first to stand up, his face and hair covered in dirt and ash just like the rest of them. It was a futile endeavour to try and dust his tweed jacket off but he tried nonetheless. As the others stood up, apart from the General, who remained lying on the ground after the woman he'd protected managed to untangle herself from him, they saw the ship and the destruction it had caused. It was still on its side, about a quarter of it buried into the ground from where it had landed which was keeping it upright.
"I was expecting an...explosion or something," River coughed.
"No fuel left to burn," the Doctor explained dismissively.
"No fuel? How could you possibly know that?"
"The Supreme Dalek. The ship. They aged right in front of us. Forced past any semblance of functionality."
"That can't just happen though, can it?" Amy asked.
"Oh, it can," Ko Sharmus answered. "I saw it in the war. Time used as a weapon to distort the time streams of the opposing enemy. Can work both ways. It was just that, when both sides had the capability of such monstrosity, it soon became seen as a futile mechanism of victory."
"So, someone just attacked the Daleks with this weapon?"
"No," the Doctor responded. "This was natural. Look at the rift. It's becoming worse. Time leakages will have been happening across the planet. The Daleks were just caught in the crossfire as they were so close." The General moaned once again as Cassandra placed her hand on his wound. The Doctor was quickly by his side, monitoring the damage he'd sustained.
"Piece of rubble hit me," he answered the unspoken question. "Thankfully my armour absorbed most of the impact otherwise I don't think I'd still have this arm."
"Why did you do it?" Cassandra asked in an almost accusatory fashion. "Pushing me out of the way." He looked at her as if it was obvious.
"It's always been my duty to protect. You didn't have any armour on. I'd recommend investing in some at a later date so I don't have to do this again."
"You could have died."
"And yet I didn't. Don't think too much about it."
"It's just a break," the Doctor pointed out, more to reassure Cassandra than the General. "Probably no long-lasting damage but it will be quite sore for a while. You'll need to get it sorted out quite quickly otherwise it may become more serious. I'm sure UNIT will have the resources necessary to help you."
"UNIT?" River asked. "We're going back there?"
"Of course we are. Try and keep up. The world has reached its breaking point. Where else am I supposed to go but my little reunion party?" He smiled as their eyes lit up in realisation. It was time.