7.
The Doctor stood before the battered TARDIS, the familiar-yet-unfamiliar key in his hand. To have her here before him, alive and fully functioning made his hearts lift and beat faster than they had in some time.
He patted the doorframe. "At least it's a comfort to know I do eventually get it going again," he said wistfully, then turned his attention back to where his other self was vanishing down the nearby corridor. He waited as long as he could bear it, then inserted the key. The door swung open at his almost hesitant touch. He stepped forward, his other self's bin tucked under his arm, and then stopped.
"Good…heavens. What the blazes has he done to her?"
Retracing his steps at breakneck pace once again, the Doctor leapt down a stairwell turned left and sprinted. He shot past the trolley with its unfortunate skeletal occupant and half-skidded around a corner to finally stop before a piece of innocently rounded wall with a gilt-framed painting of a tyrannosaur sunning itself on a rock. Running his hands over it briefly he grinned and poked the tyrannosaur in the eye. The picture vanished, replaced with a small rectangular panel that opened easily. Considering the assortment of fat cables the branched out from the box before him he grabbed onto one and gave it a firm twist. It didn't move. Grimacing, he braced his bare feet on the wall and set his shoulders into it, twisting and pulling with determination until, creaking in protest, it suddenly gave way.
Normally he would have waited around a bit to enjoy the satisfying display of multicoloured sparking he had produced, but not this time. By the time the cable had finished swinging against the wall, he was already out of sight again.
Back in the waiting blue police box, his younger self stood, monitoring the power levels. Seeing it shimmer in fluctuation he quickly stabbed buttons on the battered console, lights shining across his white hair as the console responded to leap to its previous time and place. The Rani's net dissolved about them and they moved.
Ducking his head he deliberately tried to not see what that previous time and place were. He didn't know how far ahead this later incarnation of himself had come from, and he didn't want to know. The less he knew the better. "I might already be having nightmares about her console room being in this state," he muttered. Ruffled cuffs danced over the settings, turning her back to pick up her more temporally-appropriate pilot, trusting in its homing desire to ensure the directions would take.
Staggering out of the corridor doorway, the Doctor's face lit up in a huge grin at the sight of his TARDIS rematerializing back in to room again, right on time. The door opened and the velvet version of himself looked out with relief. As he approached he had to grin again: the other Doctor was holding out a new suit of clothing for him, fetched from his own wardrobe.
He took the folded suit gratefully. "Never thought I'd be so glad to see that."
"Well, I would like my cloak back and it hardly seemed gentlemanly to send myself out in nothing but that kimono," the other observed as they rapidly paced back to where the Master's TARDIS waited.
Incredibly grateful that he had his sonic screwdriver back, he step-hopped into his trousers as he went and kneeling by the Master's console, popped a panel to hard-set a scheduled power-shift. Behind him, the other Doctor was pitching their discarded cuffs and chains into a disposal chute. "Better safe than sorry," he noted. "Might as well spare some other innocent creature their use."
A quick laser-soldering did the trick. Waving the puff of smoke away with a little cough, he clambered back up and began shrugging into his shirt and jacket as his younger incarnation gave the discarded cape a few sharp shakes to remove the last bits of cake before slinging it around his own shoulders again.
They only had moments before the Rani realized something wasn't right. He took a couple steps toward the door and stopped to look back. Well," he said, taking a breath. "I suppose this is good-bye." He held out a hand.
The dandy smiled at him and returned the gesture in a good firm shake. "Yes, I suppose it is. It was simply capital to meet you, very encouraging to know I'll be traveling again someday."
"Yes, well, it's an adventure I'll grant you that," hedged the other. "And yes, it really was fantastic to see you, I must admit. But enough self-admiration…"
The dandy shooed him towards the door. "Yes, yes. Go on, and quickly."
He nodded and headed out the door. "Give my best to the Brigadier!" he called back over his shoulder. He stepped out, running for his beloved blue box where she waiting for him, and was gone.
The change inside the remaining TARDIS was instantaneous. Around him the Doctor could feel the tension returning, the lighting changing, the door sweeping firmly shut to keep him in. The Master's TARDIS was wakened from its dream, so to speak and it sought for its Time Lord. The Doctor carefully braced himself against one of the walls; it was likely to be a rough ride back.
. . .
The ride was rough. He winced as the usual protocols for passenger comfort were ignored, the disorienting, disturbing stretching and swirling of the vortex running past his vision like strings of glutinous gossamer, the machine vibrated and whined around him as he grit his teeth, bracing against the roundels nearest the doorway.
It rematerialized. At least it had been brief.
He looked around the room, waiting. Sure enough, the power surged and waned in warning that it was going to shift into a scheduled low maintenance mode. Everything began to power down until only the dimmest lights were still glowing, the usual small sounds receding into silence. He grabbed up the crank handle that he'd already pried from its place in the wall and inserted it into the slot, rapidly turning it to crank the doors open. Stuffing the handle back into its place in the wall - why not confound the Master just a little more if he could? - he squeezed through the narrow opening.
There was a hum as the power came back up. The doors swung shut behind him, so quickly he barely managed to pull his cape out of the way.
Moving around the empty bakery, he slipped out the front door, letting it softly close behind him. It didn't take much effort to locate UNIT: they were moving men in at both ends of the long brick alley, their attention being on the side-door where the Master was just re-entering.
The Doctor waited a moment to be sure the Master hadn't seen him, then headed for the Brigadier.
"There he is!" Sergeant, Benton hailed cheerfully as he came up to them. "See, I told you the Master was bluffing."
"Perhaps," the Brigadier said non-committally. He turned toward their approaching advisor. "Obviously that black-coated bounder was at the heart of it, just as you suspected," he called out. "What do you suggest we do? He tried to claim he was holding you, by the way."
"He was. In fact, I don't think he's going to be too pleased to find I'm not where he left me," the Doctor said with a twinkle. "And as to what to do, for the moment, stay put. I can handle this." He glanced down the alleyway and brushed at the mess clotting his jacket self-consciously; it had been easier when he was the only one seeing himself.
Benton smiled at the gesture. "What happened to you, Doc? You look like you've been attacked by a bake-sale."
"Something like that."
"What about that bread?" demanded the Brigadier.
"The what? Oh, yes." He'd almost forgotten his original reason for going in. "The device he was causing the yeast mutation with is gone, all we have to do it block the distribution. I'll fine-tune that antidote as soon as we finish up here."
"What about the Master?"
"I expect he'll be on his way once he realizes this game is ended." He suddenly frowned and turned, heading back to the building.
"Wait, Doctor - where are you going?"
He glanced back at them. "Well, I have to catch him before he leaves, don't I?" he said reasonably. "That devil still has my screwdriver!"
