She was remarkable. A sweet, rounded face, wide dark eyes, skin that shone golden brown in the glow of the streetlamps. Her elegant, robelike grey dress and ornately coiled hairstyle couldn't conceal her tender youth. It was hard to be certain of her race, and there were always physical compatibility issues with girls you met on foreign planets, but she appeared to have everything he was looking for, and after all he wasn't thinking in terms of setting up housekeeping.
He strolled over, straightening his insanely expensive, perfectly tailored suit and brushing a curl of hair from his brow.
"Mind if I join you?"
Those fine eyes turned towards him.
"Not if you don't mind my jabbing you in the face with a fork."
Jasmine watched the young man's flustered attempt to preserve dignity in his retreat and drummed her fingers on the table. That had been uncalled for, she knew, but she was worried. The Doctor was an hour late, and while if he had been embroiled in the intricacies of the Tardis' dematerialisation circuit that would have been nothing out of the ordinary, in this place, where he seemed to have genuinely rid himself of all distractions, it was something new.
"Oh, Doctor," she murmured, "What have you done now?" She sniffed the air and screwed her face up. "And what's that smell?"
This had been clawing at the edges of her consciousness for a while, even as she fretted over the Doctor's absence. A kind of smoky, metallic odour, that clung to the inside of her throat and stung the back of her nose. It didn't seem to be bothering anyone else, but it seemed so strange in this world where the only smells were those of flowers and good cooking.
A rumble of thunder. People sitting at the open air tables in front of the restaurant fidgeted, peering up speculatively at the black sky, reaching for coats and gathering up glasses ready to rush indoors. Jasmine stood, and watched a broken blue streak of light stab its way up from the old fort at the edge of town.
She was away before anyone could realise she hadn't paid for her drink.
--------------------
There were not many old buildings on Agrathus. Until a few hundred years ago its people had been largely nomadic, roaming the generous wilderness with little use for permanent stone structures. The fort was an exception, an ancient stronghold and sanctuary for the local clan, and the Doctor had shown her round on their first day here, annoying the guide by loudly explaining the errors in the free leaflet.
There was no one here now, though. Jasmine scrambled through the great breach in the collapsed outer wall, regretting her decision to wear something impracticably classy for dinner. During her travels and adventures with the Doctor her concept of decency had relaxed to the point where she was comfortable in an outfit which showed her ankles and even a glimpse of her collarbone. Now, she wished she was back in that throat to ankle trouser suit. She stood alone and unhappy in the roofless interior, surrounded by signs explaining where there had once been corridors, chambers, dungeons.
"Jasmine?"
She whirled, and faced the young man who was clambering in through the breach after her. His simple clothing and bland, innocent expression marked him out as a local.
"It is you, isn't it? The Doctor's assistant? You must have come to look for him."
"Who are you?"
"Jordo." He looked shamefaced. "I'm the one who asked him to come here. I was hoping he could find out what happened to my brother. But now my other brother has disappeared, and I can't find the Doctor either."
Jasmine folded her arms, her face still.
"You called him here?"
"I had to..."
Her scowl was enough to silence him.
"You just couldn't leave him alone, could you? He was having a nice time, don't you understand that? I've never known him so relaxed. I even saw him smiling and being polite to someone yesterday. But oh no, you had to come whining up to him with all your little problems."
"Well..." Jordo looked lost, as if unable to decide whether to be aggrieved or apologetic. "He didn't have to help if he didn't want to."
Jasmine looked away contemptuously.
"Of course he did."
She strode by, and started climbing out of the fort.
"Come on, then. Where did you see him last?"
"He... um..." Following close behind her, Jordo gestured vaguely in the direction of the squat rectangular concrete structure on the other side of the street. "I think he..."
But Jasmine wasn't listening. She was pointing, open-mouthed at the building.
"What's that? Where did it come from?"
"What do you mean? That's the registration bureau. It's been there for years."
"No it hasn't! It wasn't there when I went into the fort."
She looked round to see Jordo staring at her as if she were a lunatic.
"Aah!"
Jasmine waved a hand in disgust and left him behind, plunging in through the open archway at the concrete building's centre. There was someone here. For a moment she thought it was the Doctor, then she knew it wasn't, then...
A stooped, frail figure, wrapped in a shapeless black coat and battered old hat, leaning heavily on a stick. As a crumpled benevolent visage turned to face her, Jasmine drew in a breath and seemed paralysed, unable to release it, for the face was a lost memory from her childhood.
"Doctor!"
The old man stumbled back as with a gasp she rushed forward and wrapped her ams about his chest.
"Oof! Good heavens. Young woman, control yourself..."