Notes: the Doctor Who Legacy game describes the First Doctor's signet ring as a wearable sonic device, so I've adapted that into my fic timeline, as well.

Carl was still frustrated at not having any concrete proof that he was dealing with the Doctor John Smith that Sarah Jane had spoken of. And though Tony had been determined to stay out of this entire ordeal, he did take note of Carl's expression as he returned to the INS office.

"Meeting didn't go well, huh?" he asked.

"Could've gone better, yeah," Carl agreed. "I'm 90 percent sure that this is the right Doctor Smith I'm dealing with, but that Scottish kid doesn't want to admit that the Doctor is an alien for some reason. Until I can get a confirmation, I could be talking to the wrong guy—even if that's unlikely at this point."

"You know, you could always just forget the whole thing," Tony said. "In fact, I'd prefer it."

"Tony, I can't! Sutekh and his cult are planning something for tonight—they'll have to be! And I've gotta be there!"

"Carl, no…" Tony groaned.

"It'll be fine; that Scottish kid has a pass from the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce, and I'll be with him!"

"Why would that kid have a pass from a UN taskforce!?" Tony asked in disbelief. "Carl, he couldn't have been serious!"

"Look, we can verify it!" Carl said, waving Tony over to his computer. He did a bit of poking around on the internet as Tony looked over his shoulder.

"Should you be going into a UN taskforce website?" Tony inquired, as Carl began to get past some encrypted pages to get to some files.

"Desperate times, Tony—desperate times…" Carl said, unconcerned. "Aha! Here we are; look at this file—'James Robert McCrimmon, Affiliated Civilian.' He was telling the truth! Let's see, 'Place of birth: Inverness, Scotland. Date of birth: 22 September, 1724…' Wait, what?"

"Must be a typo," Tony said, with a shrug.

"No… No, it's not! Tony, listen to this—'Highland piper and veteran of the 1746 Battle of Culloden, McCrimmon evaded persecution by escaping his time period with the aid of the second incarnation of Doctor John Smith. Since then, he has traveled alongside the Doctor, often aiding UNIT with various occurrences.' Tony, this kid is from the 1740s!"

"Carl, that isn't possible!"

"It is when he's traveling with an alien that can traverse the space-time continuum!" Carl countered.

"Carl, do you really believe that there's an alien in a bow tie running around Chicago with a runaway kid from the 18th century!?" Tony asked.

Carl gestured towards the computer screen.

"This is a UN database!" he said. "Would they make it up!?"

"And I suppose they have information on this bow-tie wearing alien you're trying to find?" Tony asked.

Carl responded by searching for Doctor John Smith in the files.

"There you go," Carl said. He blinked as the file provided multiple photographs; on the Scot's, there had been only one, but here, there were thirteen—and all of them different.

"Those aren't aliens!" Tony exclaimed. "They're people-like us!"

"'Though humanoid in appearance, the Doctor exhibits internal anatomy unlike anything seen before in the history of Earth medicine,'" Carl read, prompting Tony to roll his eyes. "'The most striking of these features are a binary vascular system of two hearts, and the presence of tapetum lucidum in the eyes that reflects a red eyeshine when exposed to lights at night…'" Carl trailed off. "Those must've been the red eyes I saw last night! Tony, it's him—the right one! …Now I just gotta let that Highlander kid know that he needs to get the information on Sutekh to the Doctor."

"If you can convince him you're telling the truth," Tony said, flatly. "You don't exactly have the gift of persuasion. And I'm still not sold on all of this, even with your prodding into these files!"

Carl gave him a look.

"Don't you have work to do, Tony?"

"Yeah, yeah…" Tony said, moving to leave, but then, he paused. "Why do they give thirteen different pictures for this guy?"

"They're all him, Tony."

"Huh. Must have one heck of a plastic surgeon…"

"No, no; Sarah Jane said… You know what? Never mind—just forget it. You don't want to know."

"…You're probably right," Tony agreed, retreating to his office.

Carl sat back in his chair and continued to peruse the UNIT file on the Doctor, looking at the thirteen different photographs. He recognized some of them from Sarah Jane's description—the tall, gray-haired man and the one with the wide eyes, as well as the younger ones. And there—there was the shabbily-dressed one with the bow tie. Yes, that definitely did look like the man he had seen speaking to Rausch the previous morning.

With not much else to do other than read up more on Gallifreyan biology until the museum closed, that was exactly what Carl decided to do.

"You know, Jamie, I do appreciate your efforts in looking out for me," the Doctor said, as he dropped Jamie off at the museum. "But I'm starting to feel that you are getting paranoid about Mr. Kolchak."

"But he knows, Doctor!" Jamie exclaimed. "He knows ye're an alien—I did my best t' deny that I knew anything, but I don' think he believes it!"

"And because of that, you don't want me with you when you go in there?"

"Aye—it makes sense."

"Not entirely. Jamie, I'm worried about you, too. These are dangerous people we're dealing with. If you were put into a coma like the others, well…" The Doctor gripped Jamie's shoulder tightly. "I don't know what I would do."

"I'll be careful," Jamie promised. He smirked. "Don' worry; I know ye're helpless withoot me."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far!" the Doctor scoffed. "Oh, and that reminds me—I want you to wear this ring…"

Jamie blinked as the Doctor held out a blue crystal ring.

"What's this?"

"Well, it's my old signet ring," the Doctor said. "I wore it all the time before I regenerated into this body. It has sonic capabilities, just like my screwdriver—only it's more convenient since you can wear it."

"Then why'd ye stop wearing it?" Jamie asked.

"Well, it didn't fit me anymore after I changed," the Doctor said, demonstrating by attempting to wear the ring and having it fall off. "Ben gave me a bit of a difficult time because he thought it was a sign that I wasn't really me."

"Och, that Sassenach gave ye trouble at first, too?" Jamie mused. "I ne'er did fully forgive him for trying t' convince me that a photograph was a form of witchcraft…"

"Yes, well, we can reminisce about our early adventures later; in the meantime, I think this will fit you very nicely," the Doctor said, handing the ring to Jamie. His expression softened. "Off you go, then. Good luck."

Jamie nodded and, after placing it around his finger, used the sonic signet ring to unlock the side door and deactivate the cameras and security system to allow him entry into the building unseen. By himself now, the Doctor sighed and wandered off

There was nothing for him to do but wait for Jamie to call him, so the Doctor paused at the nearest tavern and sat down at the bar. There was only one spot open—the barstool at the end, next to a big man drinking a glass of milk. This didn't bother the Doctor, who was already preoccupied thinking about Jamie; he ordered an ale.

"I don't suppose you sell drinks by the bottle, do you?" he asked the bartender. "I have a Scottish friend who would appreciate a nice bottle of whiskey, but he's busy right now and can't make it here."

This prompted the milk-drinking man to give him a sideways glance—and his gaze was fixed for a moment on the Doctor's bow tie.

"Oh, hello," the Doctor said, looking up at the big man with a grin. "Do you like this tie? I think it's very nice—it's why I chose it."

"Oh, no…" the man groaned, downing the rest of the milk in one gulp. "Lemme guess—you're Doctor John Smith?"

"…Yes, that's right," the Doctor said, with an air of surprise. "You have the advantage over me, I'm afraid. I don't believe I know you—yet."

"Yet?"

"Er, yes. My life isn't as straightforward as others' are…" the Doctor said. "I know that sounds odd. What did you say your name was?"

"Tony Vincenzo," the big man said, holding a hand out.

"A pleasure, Mr. Vincenzo," the Doctor said, taking his hand.

Tony took a look at the Doctor's hand as they shook hands, silently expecting it be different somehow. The Doctor sensed this with his touch-telepathy, and arched an eyebrow in surprise.

"I somehow feel that you have heard of me before, but expected someone different," the Doctor said.

"Yeah, yeah, I kinda did," Tony admitted. "Are you, ah… Are you really…?" He trailed off and shook his head, unable to bring himself to ask if the man he was speaking to was really an alien. "Oh, forget it."

The Doctor shrugged and continued to drink his ale, thinking once again about Jamie, and hoping he was alright.

Jamie, in the meantime, had caught up with Carl under the T. rex.

"How did you get in here?" Carl queried. "You don't have a key, and how did you slip past the security system?"

"Och, UNIT ways," Jamie said, waving a hand in dismissal.

"Uh-huh," Carl said. "Now, about Doctor Smith…"

"What aboot him?" Jamie asked.

"Look, Kid, you can drop the act—I already know about him. You don't have to hide anything—I want to help him. He needs to know that Sutekh has it in for him—in some other time and place, he was responsible for Sutekh's death, and now Sutekh is out for revenge against him!"

Jamie stared at him for a moment.

"I don' know what you're talking aboot."

Carl gritted his teeth in frustration.

"I'm trying to help," he insisted. "I know about you, too—you fought in the Battle of Culloden, right?"

"Och, ye're talking nonsense!" Jamie yelped, his voice jumping an octave. "How can I have fought in a war that long ago and still be standing here?"

"Time travel," Carl replied, plainly.

Jamie stubbornly shook his head.

"Ye're mistaken. Look, we can talk aboot all this later; we need t' get t' the Hall of Gems. Those coven members will be there soon."

"Right," Carl said, shaking his head in exasperation. Pressing this matter was not going to work, and he'd have to try another tactic. "You hide behind that door that you were hiding behind last night; I'll hide behind the other one."

"Aye," Jamie nodded, and he sighed in relief as they headed for the Hall of Gems. Perhaps he could slip away before Carl could question him again…

His relief was short-lived, though; as they approached the hall, they could hear the voices of people inside again—they had already found their way inside.

"This time, there will be no mistakes!" Sutekh demanded. "Time is running out; we have much to do tonight, and I will not wait! You will find those gems, and you will find them within the hour, or you will all suffer the same fate as those who outlive their usefulness! Sutekh the Destroyer has no patience for incompetents!"

"We're going as fast as we can," the head cultist said.

"See that you do," Sutekh hissed. "I am not the only Osirian who needs to be revived—I have told you—"

"Yes, Lord Sutekh," the female cultist said. "You have told us already that we must begin arrangements for the rituals to bring back your son, Anubis, and his wife, Anput. Preparations are being made."

"Anput's revival requires more than three gems," Sutekh reminded her. "She requires the additional energy of fifty souls."

"We've got dozen ready and waiting for you," the lead cultist reminded him. "The coma patients won't be any trouble at all to round up."

"Good," Sutekh said. "And I know where to get another thirteen souls. That Time Lord who dared to humiliate me… the Doctor… Though he is but one man, within him rests thirteen souls! He shall be a sacrifice for Anput—all thirteen of his souls!"

Jamie let out a shrill gasp—and then covered his mouth in horror as he realized that he had just betrayed his presence.

"What was that!?" the female cultist demanded, turning towards the door.

"Run, Kid, run!" Carl ordered, already fleeing.

Jamie followed suit, and he could hear some of the cultists pursuing them. Seeing Carl go one way, Jamie darted in another direction, ending up in the Egyptian exhibit. He hid behind a pillar as he heard a set of footsteps following him.

The cultist was visible in the dim light, and from the silhouette, Jamie could discern that it was a feminine figure.

Just one of the coven followed me? And it's only a lassie, he thought, getting complacent.

Convinced that the female cultist was not a threat, Jamie moved to dart past her; she heard him coming and grabbed his wrist. Jamie grabbed her other wrist, but soon let out a cry as she flipped him over her shoulder.

She then followed up with a sharp blow to his shoulders; the piper fell to the floor, unconscious.