Part 2: Chance and History
"Imagine a Teeter-totter, Chance sitting on one end, History on the other, swinging back and forth-Chance up one moment, then Chance down and History up. The Dark Powers love that. They throw their weight at the right moment on a side that's already headed down, and either Chance or History ends permanently up. One way we get Chaos. The other we get Predictability and an end to Romance, Art, Magic and everything else interesting." – Gordon R. Dickson, "The Dragon and the George"
The White Guardian appeared as soon as the TARDIS dematerialized. He didn't bother with the Edwardian window dressing this time, just showed up in the Console Room in a blaze of white light. The Doctor looked at him, unsurprised, as the TARDIS lighting flickered and the Time Rotor went still. "Ah. Just as Tegan predicted," he murmured. "I do wish you could find a way to contact me that didn't involve depleting my power source."
The lighting flickered again, nearly died, then made a valiant rallying attempt and snapped back to full brilliance. Briefly. The room was nearly plunged into full darkness before the power settled back to about half its former brilliance, leaving the console room bathed in a dim glow. This time, the Doctor was surprised to see the Black Guardian materialize, looking disgruntled. The Doctor gazed back and forth from one to the other. "To what do I owe this…honor?" He sounded dubious.
Before anyone deigned to answer, there was another flash of light and suddenly the Master was there as well, staring around wildly and snarling a curse once he realized where he was. "Why have you brought me here?" he demanded, fists clenched, brow lowered in rage.
His demeanor altered visibly as soon as he saw the two Guardians flanking him. With a startled curse, he edged around the console to stand next to the Doctor, who found himself smothering a grin at his old enemy's reaction. "Strength in numbers, eh?" he couldn't help remarking. Snidely.
The White Guardian spoke before the Master could respond. "Enough! We did not bring you here so we could watch you fight."
"Not this time," the Black Guardian added cryptically.
The White Guardian ignored him, concentrating on the two Time Lords standing before him. "We have brought you together because there are problems with your Time Streams. Someone has been meddling, and it isn't us."
The Master's eyes narrowed. "So send us back where you believe we 'belong,' if you please."
"Not until we discover who has been meddling and why," the White Guardian replied. "Or rather, until you do. We have already intervened far more directly than is generally good for the Universe."
"Speak for yourself," the Black Guardian snarled. "I would personally rather just tell them what we want them to do and make them do it." He raised one hand, fingers poised as if to snap, and both the Doctor and the Master tensed.
"That won't work, not this time, and you know it," the White Guardian shot back, looking annoyed. The Doctor filed that bit of information for future reference; he would have to see if there were some discreet way to discover when such methods had worked.
"If you would be so good as to simply explain what the problems are," he interrupted firmly, "then perhaps we would be willing to work on them." Fascinating as this look at the dynamic between the two Guardians was, it was also keeping him from returning home. He winced at the thought, knowing full well how Tegan was going to react to his absence.
"Very well," the White Guardian conceded, bestowing a sharp glance upon his counterpart. "As I already told you, Doctor, you were never meant to intercept that transmission--"
"Yes, yes," the Doctor interrupted hastily. "I understand that is the point of departure between what you consider my 'proper' reality and the one I'm currently existing in. Have you learned something new?" He knew he was babbling, but he had no desire for the White Guardian to reveal Lanie's existence to the Master.
"Only that something very similar has happened to you before."
The Doctor blinked, not having expected that answer. Nor, apparently, did the Master, who spoke up. "To him? Or to both of us?"
The two Guardians exchanged glances. If the Doctor didn't know any better, he'd have classified them as "uncertain." When the White Guardian finally spoke, it was with what appeared to be a great deal of reluctance. "When something of this magnitude happens to one of you, it happens to both of you."
"I presume you're about to share the reason behind that intriguing statement," the Master put in, arms crossed, expression still glowering but also with an air of anticipation. As if something he'd always suspected was about to be confirmed. The Doctor could tell, because he found himself feeling the same mixture of trepidation and eagerness. "Don't tell me the Doctor and I have shared destinies or some such nonsense."
"I told you they were the right choices." The Black Guardian sounded extremely pleased. "At least mine is." He smiled benevolently at the Master. Who moved back a step without seeming to realize he'd done so. "Well, go on, they're already guessing at the truth. Tell them the rest."
"Shared destinies is one way of looking at it," the White Guardian said after another sharp glance at his counterpart. "Have you ever heard the title…Champions?"