The Doctor and his younger counterpart, now much refreshed from their bout with the first real gaiety he'd had in far too long, strolled down to the canteen.

"Really," said the Doctor, "I'm thinking, between us, we should have this thing licked in no time. I mean," he said, giving a casual 'luck' knock to a table as they passed, "I'm brilliant- We're brilliant. What you were able to do with just Earth tech - and for the TARDIS, even without a demat circuit, or Academy knowledge - "

"Please," said the younger Doctor. "You'll make me blush - and I rather don't think I did much that I could control, anyway."

"Oh, really," said the Doctor.

They entered the canteen. Both looked up to see -

"Jo!" said his younger self quickly. "When did you get back? Are your parents well?"

Jo Grant turned from the tea service, a beaming smile on her face. "Doctor!" She set down the pot and cup she had been pouring. "Yes, Father is doing fine, though Mother is still getting over - " she paused, looking with a curious expression. "I'm sorry, but who is this?"

"Oh!" the younger Doctor looked nonplussed. "Jo, this is..."

The Doctor decided to save his younger self the work. "Colonel Joseph McCrimmon, on loan from UNIT New York," he said, pulling the psychic paper and a brilliant grin simultaneously.

"New York?" said Jo She studied the paper, then nodded, as he swept it away. "But your accent..."

"Yeah, they're doing the whole 'international' scheme. Popular over in the States." He extended a hand. " 'Course your father sent me his personal instructions to watch out for you, Miss Grant."

"Did he," she said, eyes narrowed for a moment. She flashed him a sunny grin. "Just call me Jo." She studied him with an appraising eye as she took his hand. Late thirties, at most, lean muscle, a little gangly. Lovely smile... "I'm sure you'll do just fine here."

"Don't doubt it. Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart's doing a fantastic job, by all accounts." He gave her a cursory, disapproving glance. "Really, though, does the Brigadier know that you're dressing like that - on a military base, no less?"

His younger self stepped forward, all ruffles, properness and indignation.

"Colonel, I believe you've overstepped your bounds. Miss Grant is my assistant, and quite outside your jurisdiction."

"I never said I was censuring her in any way, Doctor," said the Doctor, amusement dancing in his eyes, "just making a comment. I think Miss Grant's dress the height of fashion, and personally," he said, doffing an imaginary hat, "I think it's quite the mod squad thing, yeah?" He shot a look at the younger Doctor, along with a more personal message. HALL. NOW.

"Jo. How much tea is left?"

"Um, I'd hoped to leave another pot on for the rest-"

"Good enough," said the younger Doctor, patting her on the shoulder. "We've a few guests, you couldn't have known, but could you do me and the Brigadier a favor and round up an orderly and another tea service? " He clasped Jo's shoulder a moment longer. "Trust me, Jo," he said. "we make it through this, and it should be... educational." He turned, and began to walk off.

"Educational?" Jo looked after him in confusion. "Doctor, is everything all right? Do you need me to - "

"I'll explain later," said the Doctor, as he left the room. To himself, more quietly, he said, "That is, if there is a later."

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Rose kicked her feet against her chair for the hundredth time, it felt like. She glared over at the irritatingly hardcore officer something-Stewart, and the Sergeant Benton, who were busy with other duties.

Soldiers. She rolled her eyes, and sighed loudly.

The Brigadier looked up again from his paperwork, and sighed.

"Miss Tyler."

"Yeah?"

"I really do understand that ... youngsters don't really like the paperwork that has to do with the real business of this kind of thing," he said.

Rose bristled. "Youngsters?! I've a job, you know? High street an' that!"

The Brigadier levelled a chilling look into her eyes. "Military, Miss Tyler. Minimizing how many have to die."

To his astonishment, Rose turned to look right back. "Are we talking about soldiers, sir," she said, "or planets?"

Alistair blinked, then returned her gaze honestly. "Miss Tyler," he said, " I have no way of knowing. Please bear with us, the Doctor often lets us know least of all."

She looked suddenly abashed. "I guess you're right," she said.

"Yes, indeed." He turned to Benton, motioned him close.

"I don't think she's hardened as she claims.""

"I agree."

"Get her to the canteen, a sandwich and a cup of tea, and into some side office. Before now, my office may have been 'out of the way' enough, but if this latest Doctor's companion gets hurt, or worse, there's no telling how he'll react. Keep her out of danger, as well as you can."

Benton looked frankly worried. "But-"

"That's an order, Sergeant."

He sighed. "Yes, sir."

He followed Rose out into the hall.

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Rose strode down the hall, looking around. Bentorn ran along side.

"Miss, the canteen is this way--"

He caught a fleeting glance of a superior officer coming in the opposite direction, then felt a touch on his mind as those eyes met his...

His hand lashed toward his holster, too late.

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Rose was looking for a sign., then heard that handsome Sergeant Benton.

"Miss, the canteen is - "

She didn't catch the rest.

She saw that his eyes were fixed to... where ever they were. His hand hovered over his holster (and shook, Rose noted, like a band of steel held him back). She quickly looked away, staring fixedly at the wall.

"I get it," she said to the figure out of the corner of her eye. "You've got a hypnotic thing on humans, yeah? So I guess you're looking for the Doctor, then."

"Yes," said the man. " You're an interesing one, though. I've not seen you, but somehow you aren't looking me in the eye."

"Yeah," said Rose, "my Doctor's not from around here, but I've learned enough not to trust-"

She felt a cold influence close in on her.

"I don't need eye contact," the voice said. "I really mean no harm, young lady." It quieted, so soothing. "Just a message-"

Crash!

Benton's hand flashed up, pistol in hand, as Rose dove away.

Both found themselves facing the Doctor, struggling to keep a short-haired Ninth Doctor from strangling a UNIT colonel.

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"Master," gritted the Doctor, as he held the Master up by his throat, "tell me what you're here for. Something that will keep me from making you regenerate here and now."

"Ghhrk."

"I'll deal with - let go of him - oh, blast it all!" The younger Doctor suddenly used a Venusian Karate move, flipping his older self into a sitting position against the wall opposite. The others looked surprised at this sudden move, not the least being the leather-clad Doctor himself.

Rose hurried over and helped him to his feet.

"Doctor! Who is this? Why are you...?"

The Master rubbed at his throat, and glared.

"It's nothing to do... well, perhaps it is. It's a message the Council has asked me to deliver. No more, no less. It pains me to be a messenger boy for anybody," he said, standing and giving them a heated glare, "but I have to admit, this is something that would endanger my own plans as well."

"Really," said the younger Doctor cooly.

The Master gave him a mirthless smile. "Really. The thing that gives me pleasure in delivering this one, Doctor," he said, "is that your fingerprints are all over this one. Rips in time, in dimensions, that could kill us all..." He smiled again at the younger Doctor, then looked over at the man who had attacked him. His expression changed; he actually looked confused, and a little alarmed.

"I wish it was me they were blaming. By Rassilon, by Omega... by the Other... Doctor, what have you done?!"

He paused, then gave them a small smile. "I wish I could stay and chat, but I have places to go, and peoples to rule".

Before they could react, he hit a button on his coat, and with a transmat fWHooSH, was gone.