The elevator stopped at several empty floors on the way down; by the time it reached the first floor, Lindsay had dried her face, and the Doctor had buttoned his jacket to hide the wet spot on his shirt. They stepped out onto the balcony and were immediately confronted by two police officers and an impatient German shepherd.

The Doctor showed one of the officers his wallet. "I think you'll find that the threat's been taken care of," he said. "If I were you, I'd scour the stairwells and replace all the computers on the thirty-fifth floor-actually, you might need to replace the whole thirty-fifth floor—but, if you run into anything you can't handle, call this number." He produced a pen and paper from somewhere in his jacket, scribbled on the paper and handed it to the officer. "Ask for Dr. Jones and tell her the Doctor sent you. Now, I have some people to find."

He scanned the nearly-empty lawn and waved at Russell and Lily, who were just crossing the street towards them. They hurried up the steps to the balcony; Russell took one look at Lindsay's face and gave her a hug. She let him, briefly, then pulled away.

"So you got them?" Lily asked the Doctor.

"Of course we got them," the Doctor replied. "Those Daleks won't be doing anything now, except maybe for going to UNIT headquarters to be studied. And now we shall be moving on."

"Want to come with us?" Lindsay asked Russell.

He shook his head. "That's okay. I want to make sure I'm here when you get back on Monday."

"Oh," Lindsay said. "Okay. Say hi to me for me. To myself for me?" She smiled wryly, but Russell could tell she was still upset.

"Will do," he said, carefully cheerful. "Safe travels!"

Lindsay nodded and headed back inside with the Doctor. At the TARDIS door, she found herself wilting again, and took a moment to lean against the door and breathe. No; wasn't helping. She needed more time to get used to this.

"I'm taking you back home," the Doctor announced as he danced around the TARDIS console, pulling levers and pressing buttons.

"How come?" Lindsay asked. And why now? she thought.

"Well, I thought since you...weren't feeling well...and the Daleks...that you'd..." The Doctor fumbled his words, and finally dropped them.

"What, that I'd had enough?" Lindsay said bitterly. How dare he send me home—even Peri got more than a season! "What makes you think I can't do this?" she demanded, starting to cry again. The Doctor muttered something she couldn't hear to the console.

"Is it because I'm crying? I know, Companions don't cry. They'll scream, they'll run away, but no one cries on the TARDIS, is that it?" The Doctor didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.

Lindsay slumped into a chair and rested her head in her hands. "I'm not—I haven't, I can do this. Just give me a chance. I—I need to breathe."

The TARDIS landed, and the Doctor opened the doors and looked outside. Satisfied that he'd reached the right place, he came back and squatted in front of Lindsay.

"It's all right," he said. "I won't stop you from breathing...and while you're breathing, go take a look at what I found for you." He gestured at the doors. She turned to look, and her mouth fell open.

The ground outside the TARDIS was rough and gray and pocked with meteor craters. Nearby on the horizon, a half-Earth was just rising.

They dimmed the lights in the control room and took tea by Earthlight. Lindsay had gone from hysterical tears to speechless awe at the moonscape; as far as the Doctor could tell, it was a step in the right direction.

At last she spoke, setting down half a biscuit and staring out at the Earth. "I can do this." The Doctor nodded; she didn't seem to notice.

"I have to. If I can do this, I can handle anything."

"What do you mean, anything?" asked the Doctor, now curious.

"I thought of this as a test for myself," Lindsay said. "And I can't help thinking I've failed," she said. She looked away from the view and ended up staring into her teacup. Something in her voice told the Doctor she was going to start crying again. "You don't send anyone home."

The Doctor thought about it. No, she really wasn't the worst person he'd traveled with (sixth self, are you listening?). And she wasn't the only one who cried—perhaps none of it had made it to her television programme—and maybe the Daleks were worth crying about, too. And who had he tried to send home, that she would know about, that she could think about and cheer up a bit? Ah yes. "Lindsay?" he said. She finally looked up at him, face red and tearstained. "I used to try sending people away, back when I was old and grumpy." He tried to say it lightheartedly, but she didn't react. "And do you know who I tried to send away? Ian Chesterton and Steven Taylor. Remember them?"

Finally, a bit of a smile. He smiled back. "You're far from a failure, Lindsay Adams. Let's have another adventure?" Her face brightened, and she nodded. "Right. Bathroom's down that hall, third door on the right; why don't you go wash up and then come back and tell me where you want to go next."

Lindsay hurried away smiling. The Doctor closed the TARDIS doors and started clearing away the tea things. When he spoke again, it was to the console.

"She's an odd one. She talks like she knows so much...so old sometimes, so young at others..." The TARDIS made a sighing noise. It had heard such things before, but it was unusual for the Doctor to be saying them about someone else.

Lindsay skipped back into the control room, feeling much better. "I think I figured it out," she said cheerfully.

"Figured what out, sorry?"

"Who 'she' is." Lindsay patted a panel on the TARDIS console. "At first I thought you were talking about someone you'd traveled with. Then I decided I was right." She grinned. "Anyway, why don't we let her choose where we go next? Not that she doesn't anyway."

The Doctor grinned back and started pushing buttons. "Right. Off to anywhere!"

NEXT EPISODE: THE EIGHTH COMING