He led her down the corridor with his hand at it usual place at the small of her back.

"Far cry from the TARDIS," she teased. "It's almost as large on the inside as it is on the outside."

"Ah, yes," he responded, his voice so very quiet. She couldn't quite put her finger on what was different about it, but she felt a certain amount of new authority in his tone. "Unfortunately, they don't make ships like Time Machines."

He stopped at a door and punched in a code. It slid open slowly, admitting them into an intimate room. It was done in white, but it was a soft white, she realized. She walked down into the sunken room and across the floor to a huge picture of a star map. At various places on it, she saw the Doctor's characteristic scrawl. She heard his quiet, sedate footfalls behind her as he strolled over to the viewer and her.

"Your conquests?" she asked quietly.

"Our battles," he corrected. "Conquests indeed. Tegan, what do you think of me?" He drew along side of her and slipped his hands into his trim trouser pockets.

She turned and glanced at his body. He wore his black uniform nicely. Or rather, she thought, it wore him. His shoulders seemed broader, his arms longer in the tailored shirt. His always lean waist looked impossibly thin in the black pants. His thighs looked almost to stretch the seams. It was more tailored and tight than she had seen on him previously. She returned her gaze to his face and saw him blue eyes contemplating her. "That the warlord image agrees with you."

He kept her gaze for only a moment longer before his eyes drifted downwards as if startled or embarrassed. He blinked and then rubbed at the back of his neck. "Tegan, I'm not a warlord."

"You're the Supreme Coordinator of one of the largest intergalactic forces ever assembled," she replied, her voice tight. She glanced about the room next. "Doc, guns aren't your style."

"I haven't carried one," he defended. She heard him turn to watch her as she crossed the room to look at a small table set for two.

"You bloody well haven't needed to, have you?" she said, sarcastically. Turning she surveyed the star chart again, seeing the gold marks that clearly stood for the Intergalactic Fleet. "All you need to do is say where and when and terror descends from the sky, doesn't it?"

"Are we going to have an argument about the ethics of war, Tegan?" he asked, lightly, but she could hear the tightness in his voice.

"There are no ethics in war," Tegan stated. "Each side has their own ethics, but in the middle ground, it gets lost in translation."

"Point taken," he replied, but walked down the stairs at a clipped rate. "War is wrong on all sides and violence is the wrong side of the coin no matter how you look at it. But answer me one question, Tegan. Well, no, actually answer me two questions. One: how does one fight fire? And two: what were you and Peri doing on Sylvana? Hmm?"

He stopped within a foot of her and she saw him bend to glance closely at her. She immediately became defensive. "I haven't seen you in a year. When I left you, you were standing in the middle of a fire fight, arguing with both sides that fighting wasn't the answer to the problem. You stayed behind to possibly get killed and definitely get separated from us to try and stop the fighting. And then I show up here and hell's teeth, you're leading an army. Excuse me if I'm a tad bit surprised."

With gritted teeth, he turned and ran his hand through his hair. "I found out who was leading the aggressors, Tegan. And when I found that out, I had to do something. I'm a Time Lord."

"What does that have to do with anything?" she pressed. She desperately wanted to just forget, but she was angry. A year lost, a year separated, a year she and Peri had been fighting a war on a planet and a year during which he had changed; she wanted answers. She had to have them before she could relax.

"Everything."

The word was said with such anger and passion that she took a step back. He met her eyes fearlessly and without hesitation. "It has everything to do with my Time Lord heritage, Tegan."

"Why?"

Her challenge brought a small smile to his face that she knew was sarcasm being given life without words. "Because the person on the other side of this war is a Time Lord. The General as Sylvana calls him is a Time Lord. One of the best; one of the worst, depending to whom you talk. But he is one of the most infamous in our history. When I found out that he was on a Death March across the Galaxy, I knew it was a Time Lord problem. And one that we had to take care of. Somehow, they thought I was the best for the job" he nearly spat.

She had stilled, listening to the angry words tumble out of his mouth like water over rocks. She heard the passion in them that she had only heard twice in her time with him. And when his gaze returned to her, boring into hers, she saw a tortured, more cynical version of her Doctor staring back at her. But she felt the pent up passion and pain in him and the need to yell to the heavens about the injustice of the universe. Almost in a trance, she touched his arm. "I think we have a lot to talk about" she commented quietly.

"An understatement, Tegan," he agreed with a kinder, gentler smile gracing his lips. He held out his hand to her. "And I don't expect you to understand"

"I'll be the judge of that," she replied, taking his hand. "But I demand that you start at the very beginning."

**

They had abandoned the table before they had eaten the first course and had moved to the small floor table that was tucked into a nook. It was more intimate, but neither of them thought of it as such. It was simply a place where they felt more at ease and conversation was easier. He sat across the table, his long legs stretched out to the side. She sat, her injured arm resting on the chair behind her, and her legs tucked under her body.

"So" she pressured. She picked up an orange and began to peel it. "Continue"

"Wellafter talking with President Marin about the situation on Sarn and that the Time Lords should be told, I tried to trace the transport that you and Peri had boarded. I traced it as far as Tranix"

"We passed there and went on to the next port of call. We crashed before that" she supplied. "Bloody bastard General"

The Doctor nodded. "When I reached Tranix, I found that you and Peri had not disembarked there and that the transport hadn't been heard from since. All on board were considered dead and lost" his voice tightened and he reached for his wine glass. He swirled it, staring into it. "I knew there was still hope, though. And at that time, I heard that Marin needed an ambassador to Gallifrey to ask for support and help. He begged me to go."

Tegan popped a wedge of orange in her mouth and chewed it slowly. The Doctor met her gaze and nodded before sipping his wine. "I went, trying to convince the High Council of the need to rein in Morbius. He was our tyrant, our monster and we set him loose on the galaxy with nary a blink. Eventually, they agreed. But before they did, they locked me in a pretty prison and let me go when I agreed to lead the force. They needed someone who had wide experience in mediation and with alien cultures. One who had traveled a great deal"

"Well, put that way," Tegan supplied, a tad sarcastically. "After the Time Lords I met, you're the only one that would fit that bill."

"That's why they worded the job requirements that way. I'm not quite them, am I?" he replied, leaning forward on the table. His wine glass was set down, empty. "They would rather me deal with the problem. After all, I'm the one that called them on the carpet for it, wasn't I? And I was the one that argued ethics and morals. So, they enlisted me for the job. But" he held up a finger as though pointing to the sky. "It wasn't exclusive to my searching for you and Peri. In fact, if I were able to put together a diverse and large army, when they joined or when we conquered new planets, I could look for you."

She nodded. It did make sense to her. After all, the Universe was rather a large place. She watched as the Doctor filled their wine glasses again.

"And so" he continued, sighing. "That was one year ago. Since then, the Intergalactic Armada has grown quite extensive. And we've been liberating the planets in reverse order, following in Morbius' footsteps. He's like Hitler, Tegan. Stalin. To leave him unchecked is inadvisable and terrible. He'll leave millions, if not billions dead."

Tegan held up her hand to stop him. "I've heard. And I've heard how merciful the Supremo is."

The Doctor opened his mouth, but she continued before he could speak. "I would expect nothing less, if it's you. But Doctor" she breathed.

"Survival, Tegan," he returned. He sat back from the table to contemplate her. "And you, Tegan? The report I received is that you and Peri and the rest of that rag-tag fighting group you were in turned up after a guerrilla strike on the General's men. And that you turned up heavily armed."

"There's a bit of difference between defending your homes, your life and pursuing and actively fighting, isn't there?" she pressed, not willing to talk about her past year quite yet.

"It depends on moral code, culture and personal preference, but yes and no," his voice grew duskier as he talked. "You're getting better at avoiding questions, Tegan. What were you and Peri doing on Sylvana?"

"Defending our home," she said simply. "Sylvana adopted us and we adopted it."

"Ah, yes" he muttered, a smile appearing on his lips. "By guerrilla warfare."

"The General was decimating Sylvana," Tegan began heatedly. "There would have been nothing left: the farms, the livestock, the people, everything was either getting taken or killed by this Morbius person."

"Ah, so you were waging war," he nodded knowingly. She anticipated an argument and put her hands down on the table.

"It wasn't like this" she stopped as the Doctor's cool hand covered hers. The shock of the familiar touch stilled for a moment, but when she tried to continue, he quietly said her name.

"Tell me."

"Rabbits! You make it sound like I'm going to tell you I was at a weekend test match, Doc. It was horrible," she replied, her accent very harsh as the emotion in her words grew. He made no move to comfort; he made no noises of acceptance. She knew that was for her benefit. "The transport crash landed on Sylvana about a year ago. Peri and I and a few others survived. Had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing life threatening. She nursed a fair number of people while I looked for shelter and help. We found a family and they took us inbut thenthe family was" she took a deep breath.

Lifting her eyes, she met his and grew surer of herself. "The family was killed except for the father. He and Peri and I took what tools and weapons we could find and set about protecting ourselves and exacting revenge against the General. The group grew and became part of a network. Guerrilla fighting. We've been living and fighting in the jungles of Sylvana for almost ten months."

The Doctor nodded. "I've had several reports about the Sylvana Fighting Force. Disorganized on large scale but exceedingly effective."

"Gee, thanks a lot," she groused. "We all drew very close. But being beautiful didn't cross our minds."

He nodded. But there seemed little else to say. Tegan didn't want to offer her nightmares in conversation and definitely didn't want to tell him about seeing death as much as she had. She didn't want to tell the Doctor about nursing Peri when she was sick. The terrible feeling that her new friends would die and she would be alone.

"It was horrible," she whispered. "Too much death."

"War always gives too much death," he responded. "And this war is far from over."

Silence descended between them. She drank her wine; he drank his. He rose and retrieved something she recognized as dessert. But as the fare was laid on the table, she found she didn't want to eat.

Lifting her eyes from the dessert to his gaze, she saw his blue eyes dark and wonderfully deep. In his black clothing, he looked like the rebel, bad boy that her mother had always warned her about. Simply, she said: "I thought you were dead. After three months, I gave up hope."

His gaze turned sad; the blue in them turned stormy gray. "After six months, I began to despair of ever seeing you or Peri again," he admitted, lowly. "But where there's life, there's hope. I kept hoping you were well and alive."

She swallowed. "We're alive."

The Doctor leaned forward and Tegan self-consciously crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you all right?" he asked, calmly, yet intensely.

"About as all right as you are," she responded. His eyebrows arched over his eyes but she refused to say more. She knew she was right; she could practically see the stresses and wounds in his gaze. He held her gaze until she dropped her sight to his and her wine glasses. She glanced around the room, taking in the star charts and desk and other war paraphernalia. Then she nodded to his wine glass, empty again. "You drink now," she said simply. "If the sight of all this war stuff hadn't already alerted me to you having changed, the wine glass in your hand would have sealed it for me."

**

He walked toward the door, his hand wrapped firmly about her fingers. "You should sleep, Tegan; the infection did take a bit out of you."

She frowned. "And you have meetings in the morning that you have to prepare for," she supplied. He nodded, slowly, removing his hand from hers and lowered it to the small of her back. "With the Military Liaison for Sylvana," she continued.

"Wellyes," he said slowly. "That meeting should be easier than my staff meetings, I hope."

"Oh, I think it will be," she nearly laughed. She slipped her arm around his back as his wrapped more firmly around her waist.

The door opened as if on cue and Vidal entered, tall and formal. He gave an unwary glance toward Tegan and then addressed the Doctor. "Supremo, sir. You have a late visitor. And it is of some importance. Apparently you were expecting her earlier this evening?" His dark eyes settled on her and Tegan felt as though she was under a microscope. Unconsciously and somewhat inebriated, she leaned closer to the Doctor. Vidal watched the way that she turned her face toward him and the way that he held her closely.

"Or should I tell her you are otherwise disposed?"

Tegan's eyes opened wide. The thought that she and the Doctor might spend the evening otherwise engaged had existed on her mind's peripheral most of the evening, and had he seemed almost strained with keeping distance from her. The possibility of sleeping with the Doctor sent a liquid shock through her system. Then he shook his head slowly, more for his aide then for Tegan. "No, Vidal that would be very rude. After all, she did travel a very long distance to be here. Show her to the Planning room. I shall be there presently."

Vidal nodded and shut the door, almost bowing. Tegan frowned as the door shut and looked up at the Doctor. "She? You had another meeting with a woman?"

"A diplomatic meeting," he corrected with a sigh.

"I was going to say that a LOT more had changed about you if it were otherwise," she stated and began to walk away from him. "As you have a meeting now, I suppose I should show myself back to my quarters-"

His hand wrapped about her wrist. "Tegan"

She didn't know why she was upset, but the confusion she felt made her sore. "I'll see you tomorrow, Supreme Coordinator."

With an eye roll that was incredibly heartwarming in its familiarity, she was pulled toward him. She kept eye contact as he brought her completely into his arms. "Tegan, she's a diplomatic envoy. I owe her my attention."

"I see," she said.

His sigh was almost comical. He tilted her chin up with his finger and held it there as he searched her eyes. He pressed a cool, close kiss to her lips, eliciting a shock of forgotten warmth along her nerves. Her hands curled into his hair as he smiled and leaned in again to kiss her cheeks and once below her right eye. "We've both changed over the last year, Tegan."

She nodded in agreement. "Too right."

"Before we separated, I knew we cared a great deal for one another. I wanted to give us time to equilibrate again, to each other"

"Contrary to your belief," Tegan replied, frowning a bit as she searched his eyes. "I'm not thinking about sex, Doctor. I had wanted to be closer to you this evening, but you're right, some things have changed."

"Hmm, yes" he stated, brushing his thumbs over her cheeks. "Not the least of which, the length of your hair."

"Oho, commenting on physical"

"I quite like it," he smiled. He lowered his hands from her face and put them on her hips. "And I have quite missed you, but desperate need and meaningful evenings don't mix well in my book."

Tegan lifted an eyebrow and contemplated him. What he said was very true and to simply try to forget the last year had existed the way it had and to stay the night in his arms wouldn't be good for either one of them. "I hate it when you're right, you know."

"Yes, wellthen some things do indeed reign eternal," he joked. "Get some sleep, Tegan, out of the rain for once."

He pressed one last kiss to the bridge of her nose. Then he turned her leading her to the door with his hand at her back again. "I'll see you in the morning. We can celebrate when we are both more comfortable again and you are well rested. Vidal will show you back to Peri and your rooms."

Tegan turned and lifted an eyebrow.

"It's a matter of ethics, Tegan. Never mix business and pleasure," he explained. "That includes meetings and diplomatic envoys. But I do need to meet with this messenger."

She stopped at the door. "I've missed you more than I thought possible," she commented. "And you are rightif I stayed with you tonight, I don't think I'd be able to remember we've been separated a year and in the morning"

"In the morning, you'd wonder if it was the same or if it was the situation," he sighed. "Yes, well, I do know. I've missed you too, Tegan. And for the record," he cleared his throat. "If the feeling I have had of being separated from you for the last year was like the one I would have had had you left me back in the warehouse Yes, well" he shook his head. "I've missed you dreadfully."

She sighed and smiled, turning to the door. She was suddenly tired and in need of her bed. As she walked out the door and saw his dark eyes still on her, she realized that a great deal had changed about him. He would have never said those things before, and he hadn't held her so closely or so strongly previously.

She nibbled on the flesh at his neck. Before she could back away, he pressed her against the console, drawing her harshly to him, kissing her soundly, almost brusingly. She clawed at his shoulders, drawing the linen into bunches in her fingers. Cool, icy cold beneath and his cool, moist, possessed breath against her skin. He had lowered his head, his gaze from her and put his forehead against her chin. "Rassilon, Tegan." His hands had slapped the metal of the console with some force.

Vidal was waiting for her at the turn as she came out of her memories. He had shivered that night, blaming Lord knows what for his lack of control. He had made good on his promise of a bed; it had only been their second time, but he had made sure it was in the cool cotton sheets of a bed. His bed.

"Lady Tegan, you and the Doctor are good friends, yes?"

She nodded slowly. "The best. Or at least I thought we were" she sighed. Then she gave him a tight smile. "Time will tell."