Author's Notes: I don't own the characters of the Doctor, Ace or anything at all to do with Doctor Who. I got the inspiration for this story when I was watching an article on this year's A-Level exam results on the TV news. ;) This is the first chapter of however many it takes me to tell this tale…

It was the kind of silence which could be sliced through with a knife. The coughing had subsided , leaving each student in that packed assembly hall alone with his or her own personal thoughts, insecurities and anxieties. There was so much resting upon the next three hours. Where had the last two years disappeared to? Had it all really come down to this?

Mr. Grout proudly surveyed the rows of students sat facing him. They were a good bunch on the whole, as strong a bunch of candidates as he had come across in twenty eight years of teaching. He had high hopes for many of them. He glanced up at the plain white clock on the wall behind him. The hands were moving relentlessly towards 10am. Mopping his forehead nervously with his handkerchief, a long standing habit in times of tension, he cleared his throat. It was time. Forty two pairs of eyes looked up at him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the time is now one minute to 10 o'clock. This exam will commence at 10 exactly. Please turn over your papers." He paused for a moment to watch the second hand complete it's journey through the full 360 degrees. "And you may begin, now."

With a certain amount of relief, Mr. Grout sat back down in his chair. It wasn't comfortable at all, just a simple wooden chair. Not that it mattered. Even a plumped up sofa would never be enough to put him at his ease in such circumstances. He hated invigilating, he hated seeing his students going through the agonies of the examinations. After all, in many ways the results would be a reflection upon his ability to teach A-Level Maths as well as a test of what his students knew. Had he prepared them fully for all eventualities? Too late to worry now. He sighed. It was going to be a very long morning.

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"Here Professor?" asked Ace incredulously. "This is where we're going to save the world from a nuclear war? It's just a bog standard crummy old school!"

"The ripples of time, Ace. Even the biggest events in the history of the universe had the humblest of origins. Did I ever tell you how the 200 year Tryanii/Guadspor trade conflict began? One piece of rotten fruit caused that lot, literally one piece of rotten fruit in the cargo hold of the galaxy's largest space freighter." Struck by a sudden thought, the Doctor rummaged around in his jacket pockets for a moment. "Would you care for a plum? I'm sure I've some here somewhere."

Ace shook her head and, gripping the railing, she peered into the school yard. "It's very quiet."

"It's an exam day." The Doctor nodded towards the red brick assembly hall where the huge curtains where drawn across the windows. " Mathematics A-Level." He added with relish.

"The day just gets better and better. OK, I think you'd better tell me all about your big plan."

"Today is the 23rd May 2003. Inside that hall there are 42 eager teenagers sitting their maths exam. All keen to get a place at the university of their choice. Most will succeed, a few will fail. Such is life. History tells us very little about most of them. But…" He paused for effect.

"Yes?"

"But one of those students is Bethany Tipton! Now do you see why we're here?"

Ace sighed. Sometimes getting an explanation out of the Doctor was like pulling teeth. "So who on earth is Bethany Tipton when she's at home?"

"That rather depends upon where home is, wouldn't you say? In fifteen years time Bethany Tipton will be 33 years old and living at number 10 Downing Street. She's a future Prime Minister of Britain, a very important one too. She holds office for 17 years and towards the end of that time she saves the world from a potential nuclear war. She'll be one of the greatest diplomats that your world has ever seen, also a very skilled politician and all round nice person. Her journey to power begins here, today. I hope."

"Hope? It all seemed cut and dried a few seconds ago. You make her sound like some kind of superwoman."

"Time is such a curious, fragile thing Ace. Sometimes it needs a little nudge to keep it running along on the right track. Especially when someone else is trying to nudge it in an altogether different direction." He smiled broadly at her. "Let's go in, shall we?"

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The staff room was a totally disgusting mess. Mr. Stream looked around disdainfully as he entered the room for his morning break. A gaggle of young English teachers were sat in the corner gossiping about their boyfriends as the plastic drinking cups mounted up around them. Not one of them so much as even glanced up as the elegantly dressed and bearded supply teacher walked past them. Mr. Stream felt a sudden rush of extreme irritation. He wasn't used to being ignored . No, he reminded himself, being inconspicuous here was a good thing. It would make life so much easier if he could come and go without too much attention being paid to him. Biting his lip, he crossed over to a chair on the far side of the room and shielded himself behind yesterday's coffee stained copy of The Guardian. The headlines were still all about the Iraq conflict.

"Humans!" He murmured to himself. "So they think that's a war do they? I'll soon teach them all about war."

He glanced at his left wrist where his watch was showing the time as being 10:15am. He passed his index finger across the face of the instrument and suddenly the hands and numerals were replaced by live pictures of the Maths exam. The Master scanned the hall for his target. Spotting Bethany Tipton he selected close-up and adjusted the picture to zoom in on her.

"Are you sitting comfortably my dear?" He whispered. "Then we'll begin…"