Donna paused for a moment, as if she were considering the question. ‘I’m seriously tempted,’ she replied. ‘You two do sort of deserve one another.’

‘God forbid!’ he said, fervently. ‘She could tempt me into monkdom.’

Donna didn’t even smile at the joke. ‘I don’t want to get married,’ she answered. ‘And you don’t really want to marry me, anyway.’

He leaned forward. ‘Is it because of him?’ he asked, gesturing to the bed.

Donna did have to think about that for a moment before shaking her head. ‘No. I’m not in love with him. I owe him a lot – but he’s not the reason.’

‘Well –’ Barlow began.

Donna almost felt like punching him. ‘Can’t you get it through your head that I don’t want anyone?’ she demanded. ‘Not him, not you, not anyone. I want to be left alone.’

He was silent for a moment. ‘And that’s it?’ he asked. ‘You want to retreat into a shell for the rest of your life? Where nobody can reach you?’

Donna said nothing.

For a moment, Barlow looked annoyed. ‘Look, I know I’m a miserable sod,’ he complained, ‘but I’m not a liar. I’m very proud of that. I won’t ever lie to you. Hell, I could have come in here and pretended I was so smitten with you that I had to marry you. I could have just sat here and lied. Would that have been what you wanted?’

‘No.’

‘That’s what I thought. You’re too smart to fall for that crap.’ He glared at her again. ‘What I need now is someone who is strong, who can stay with me and fight beside me. And there isn’t anyone else other than you.’

Donna sighed. ‘I’m sterile, remember?’ she stated, feeling her cheeks heat up.

‘So?’ Barlow shrugged. ‘The three I’ve got already fight enough as it is. Wait till they have to figure out who’s going to succeed me.’

‘Donna,’ came a voice, ‘you’re a knight. Put him on your charger and take him away, would you? It’s probably the only way I’m ever going to get some rest.’

Donna stared down at him and found herself grinning foolishly. ‘Doctor! You’re all right!’

‘No, I’m not,’ he argued, with a slight smile on his lips. ‘I’m getting a terrible headache from all of this arguing. I don’t believe in marriage for the sake of expediency. But if you truly think you’ll be happy…’

She tried to glare at Barlow for bringing all this up, but couldn’t quite manage it.

‘I’ll not take no for an answer,’ Barlow said softly.

‘We’ll see, then,’ Donna replied, her voice equally low.

‘Thank you at least for turning the volume down,’ said the Doctor, wryly. ‘Now kindly go off somewhere and let me get some rest. I’m a sick man, you know.’ He closed his eyes.

Donna looked at Barlow, smiling, and wondered about the future.

Once Donna and Barlow had gone, the Doctor jumped out of bed. His recovery was almost complete – his healing trance had done the trick, of course. Thankfully, this time no over‐helpful medical technician had tried to help him recover.

It took him a couple of minutes to find his clothes and get dressed. He surveyed his ripped coat with a sigh. Well, he had others like It back in the TARDIS, but it wasn’t really the same thing. It was a shame to see it torn up like this. He slipped it on anyway, wincing only slightly from the pain in his shoulder.

He hopped out of the door, and marched down the corridor towards the exit. Thankfully, neither Donna nor Barlow was around. He didn’t want any more fuss, and he knew they’d insist. As it was, he’d spent far too long doing nothing while there was so much still to be done.

As he’d suspected, he was in the Tower. The Queen’s House, he realised. It amused him to be back here again but it was also helpful. He hurried out of the building and back to the Peace Officers’ rooms. The duty officer was that chap Spencer again. He looked surprised to see the Doctor.

‘Hello,’ the Doctor said cheerfully. ‘I’ll be off, soon. But I wondered if you’d managed to find that information I was after. A young girl named Samantha Jones?’

‘Oh, yes, right.’ Spencer started hunting on his desk. ‘I checked all the data banks.’ His face was grim. The Doctor wondered how many times he must have assumed that sorry face for the benefit of the broken‐hearted. ‘No positive match,’ he sighed. ’Not when we cross‐reffed against all the information you gave us on her. There’s no one here on our files. I’m sorry.’ He paused. ‘I really do think it unlikely she’s alive.’

The Doctor started at the thought, then smiled weakly. ‘Oh, she’s alive… she must be. She’s just not here. She must be somewhere else.’ He said the words with a child’s certainty. Thank you anyway,’ he added politely. ‘Well, I’m sure you’re a busy man. Good day.’ He strode out, deep in thought.

His standing enhanced no end through his involvement with Barlow, the Doctor was able to commandeer a runabout and a driver without a problem. The cheerful young man gladly drove the Doctor back to where he’d left the TARDIS. The Doctor let him prattle on about all the changes that were happening, and about how great times were coming. The enthusiasm of the young was matched only by their naivety…

Finally, though, the trip was over, and the Doctor could say goodbye. Then he hurried to the TARDIS, and entered it.

‘Hello, old girl,’ he murmured, as he crossed to the console and powered it up again. Time now to rescue Susan and recover that transmuter. Everything else was secondary. He bent to his work, and did what he knew he should’ve done in the first place – he instructed the TARDIS to begin analysing properly.

At least now he had some explanations for it. Susan must have used the Master’s TARDIS to send the signal, distraught at the Master’s actions. All he needed to do now was to narrow down the point of transmission and then go to her rescue. Provided the TARDIS behaved herself and did as she was told.

Long hours passed. The information started to come through, and as he read it, the Doctor paused.

Tersurus…

And then the track of an unshielded TARDIS, which then reshielded itself and left the dismal planet…

His fingers hovered over the controls, and didn’t descend.

Tersurus…

He aborted the sequence, with a mixture of relief and reluctance. Of course… He already knew that the Master had hidden on Tersurus when his final regeneration had been used up. Some devastating force had ravaged his body and left him a crippled wreck.

But his TARDIS had left the world.

That could only mean that Susan had been the one to trigger the Master’s grotesque change. And that she had taken his TARDIS and gone on alone. There was no need for him to go to her aid, then. She had acted swiftly and certainly, and solved the last remaining problem.

She had her freedom back.

Something twinged at the Doctor. Freedom. He tried to place himself in Susan’s shoes. He remembered his exile to Earth, the frustration, the desperation to escape. Then release.

But wherever he went, there were the companions. He seemed to collect people like badges, the good, the brave, the plucky and bold.

The hopeless innocents.

He could leave Sam now. Give up the search. What did it matter? With the evil of the Daleks to contend with, with Susan in danger, Sam had left his thoughts for a while… He’d soon be distracted again, caught up somewhere else, in another age. Look how long he’d left Susan. How soon before he forgot all about Sam, a grain of sand on time’s beach?

He could go now. There’d be only himself to look out for, just as when he’d gone off before, soon after they’d first met – he’d been testing out his new body but got caught up, diverted, held in time’s thrall once again. If he got really bored this time he could always find someone else. Anyone else, really.

TARDIS‐fodder…

He saw his eyes reflected back at him in the glass screen of the monitor. They were dark, cold. He closed them, imagined Susan travelling through the vortex in her stolen TARDIS, free of all responsibility now.