Notes: For some reason, this is the bit that took me the longest to finish. I don't know why. Probably Jack.

The phrase "carpe diem" comes from a poem by Horace. It refuses to stop coloring my view of the Doctor. Good or bad? You tell me...

(-)

So I called up the Captain

When he came to, he realized he was probably in trouble.

For one thing, he was pretty sure the last thing he remembered was being out on the streets of London, trying to covertly get Rose a replacement for that top she'd lost in that... coffee... incident. And how he'd managed to find his way to the floor of the TARDIS, he hadn't a clue.

Which meant: his memory had been erased. Probably by himself, but you couldn't be too careful.

He got up and glanced at the console; sure enough, there was a note there. And, out of necessity, it was fantastically unhelpful. "TV NE QVAESIERIS". Latin-- hang on. First three words of the 'carpe diem' poem. 'Don't you ask, to know is forbidden'-- well, the significance of that was fairly obvious.

"Seize the day, trust tomorrow as little as you can..." He murmured to himself, turning the paper over.

'I have it on good authority the new boy will turn out fine,' he'd written. 'So give him a break, will you? I shouldn't exist anymore in the first place; I should remember I don't have time to waste.'

He considered the paper for a few moments. Wonder what happened to bring that up...

Still. The Doctor could, on occasion, take a hint.

It really was a fantastically beautiful day, and it was a shame he'd had to miss so much of it. A trifle muggy, perhaps, but a very interesting sky. And the sun was strong today; he liked Earth's sun. The cute little yellow-dwarf was comforting, the closest thing he had to a home. Actually, if you counted it all up, he'd probably spent much more of his life here than he ever had on Gallifrey... and it had always felt more like home, too.

This really was his home. That was why he felt so guilty about it. How could it be a mere coincidence that the planet he really cared about had survived? It had to be his fault; there was no other possibility.

Ought to be dead. Living on borrowed time, then... Bit like bushido, I suppose. Can't fear death if you already consider yourself dead.

Is that what I'm doing, then? That why I'm sticking around here so much, cleanin' up? Doin' what I can 'till death catches up with me?

Bah, introspection. He'd never liked it. The view was so disorienting.

When he finally caught sight of them, he was thinking about second chances.

Hideously naive, he would've thought. Incredibly dangerous. If ever you had asked him (this year, at least), he would have said he wasn't a second-chances sort of guy. He'd learned about second chances, he figured he'd have said. They were just a second opportunity to get things wrong.

But no; that wasn't true. He'd spent nine centuries learning that wasn't true, and not even the Time War could negate it. After all, the Daleks had been on far more than just their second chance... and he hadn't been the one to give that chance to them, he really hadn't.

If only he'd realized before who had.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa, but it was all over now. And there wasn't any going back.

And the truth was, sometimes people needed a second chance. And a third, and a fourth, and a fifth, and a ninth, eh?

And trusting the pretty, smooth-talking, hustling wench couldn't really do him any harm. Not any that outweighed the possible benefits.

He still didn't like him, though.

He was still a little bit behind them, so he couldn't help but listen in.

"Well, yeah, it was probably a stupid thing to do," came Jack's voice, not particularly contrite, but not callous or boastful either.

"Why'd you do it, then?" Rose asked, still clearly all-too-infatuated by this man, but sounding fairly reasonable.

"I don't know. I guess I just couldn't think of anything else to try. Besides, what would you do if you were wronged by-- what secret government agency do you have in 2005? UNIT? CIA? NSA? Nah, those last two are American. LDS?"

"LDS? What on Earth are the LDS supposed to be?"

"Ah. Cardiffgate hasn't happened yet. Come on, help me here, big powerful government agency in England."

Rose shrugged. As well she should; if it were really a secret agency, she wouldn't have heard of it, would she? "MI-5, maybe?"

"Well, the acronym sounds right, so let's roll with it. Say you work for MI-5--"

"You'd have to have a lot more A-levels for that--"

"--and one day you discover they've wronged you. So you're mad, right? You're angry. You want revenge. But what the hell can you do to MI-5? They're a secret government agency. You can't tell people what you've been doing for them. If they can wipe your memory, they can have you killed. You can't destroy the agency. They'd stop you. Can't egg your supervisor's house-- well, actually, you can, but it doesn't help for that long. Can't screw your supervisor's wife-- well, you can, but same problem. What can you do?"

"What can you do?"

"Nothing. Can't destroy them, can't hurt them, can't expose them. All I could think of to do was screw them out of money."

"After egging your supervisor's house and shagging his wife."

"Wives. And husband." Jack grinned.

Rose stared at him for a moment, smile slowly spreading across her face. "...Your century is weird."

"Thank you. So's yours. So, that's what I did. I left, and I started to con them. Then it grew. Then there were people who took the bait and weren't Time Agents-- then there were people who caught me-- then there were people I couldn't avoid around me who fell into the trap. Then there were the people I left; then there were the friends I never warned... But I didn't know what else to do."

"So what are you doing now?"

"Besides hanging around with you guys? I guess... I don't know. Living well is the best revenge. And... Well, weird things happen around you two. Maybe if I stick around long enough, we'll run into them again, and I can figure out how to make these things right this time. Finally expose them. Get my memories back. Fix this mess. Hey, even in a week with you guys, I've seen stranger things."

"Yeah... me too. Don't worry about him. He acts all tough around you, but... He'll come around. If you don't do anything too stupid."

"What counts as 'too stupid'?" Like he was truly concerned about it. Maybe he was.

"Still working on that. Trying to steal information to make a profit, that's a big no-no. On the other hand, nearly destroying the universe is okay."

"Well, it's not as if you meant it," the Doctor said, defensively. "He was doin' it to make money. You weren't. Didn't know what could happen 'cos I was too stupid to tell you. Should've known you couldn't just figure it out for yourself. It's all about the motive. You keep connin' people, you're out on your ear. Learn or leave."

"...How long have you been there?" asked Rose, sounding a bit frazzled.

"I'm just sayin'." He shrugged. "It's not like I'm completely inscrutable."

"Really."

"I mean it!"

"Wait, you nearly destroyed the universe?"

"Oh, yeah, several times over by now. Why?" He blinked at Jack.

"I meant... yeah, never mind. You know, there's this fantastic Italian place on Outpost 14..."

"'Fantastic Italian Place'? I've been there. Lives up to the name. Except when it's blown up by dissidents."

"Yeah, service kind of went downhill that night. Given that the place had been blown up by dissidents."

"Hang on. You were there?"

"Yeah. You were there?" Jack squinted at him.

"Why'd you think they blew the place up?"

"I don't remember seeing you there."

"There was quite a lot of smoke. The place had just been--"

"--blown up by dissidents, yes, we've been over that. It's still strange I don't remember seeing you."

"Well, I saw you."

Because he had, now that he thought about it; a similar shilouette through the smoke, an identical voice. Standing near the exit, herding people through the doors, yelling at people to stay calm, proceed in an orderly fashion, acting so like an authority that everyone obeyed. No one had died, in that explosion he'd inadvertently half-precipitated. And a lot of that was probably his fault.

"You did?" Jack blinked. "Well, it was pretty busy. I guess it makes sense that I wouldn't remember you."

"I've changed a lot since then."

"Yeah. I probably have too."

"Not really, no."

Seeing a chance to regain control of the conversation, the Doctor took it while Jack was still trying to figure out if he'd been complimented or insulted. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

"I don't know if I wanna eat at a place that's been blown up by dissidents," Rose said warily.

"Doesn't bother you at the TARDIS kitchen table."

"Hang on, what?"

He just smirked, because it was London, Thursday afternoon, a beautiful day that would never come again. A good day for dancing. A good day for not looking back.

What had brought the lesson on, he didn't know-- probably didn't want to.

But he was listening.

(-)