Turlough, Turlough (2/?)
Title: Turlough, Turlough (2/?)
Author: Lithrael
Pairing: Ten/Turlough. Ten/Turlough/Five/Turlough + Tegan/Turlough eventually (it's growing!)
Summary: What's Turlough got up to in the 2006 continuity?
Rating: PG for now. Supar-Adult later.
Holy crap. This fic is really going everywhere, fast. OH IF YOU COULD SEE ME BRAINS.
Thanks to Vandonovan for beta!
Part one is here. Also, here be illo of how I am picture Hot And Sexy Uniformed Turlough. (I am not good at drawing older - pretend he older.) (click!)
Turlough, Turlough
Part Two
Turlough couldn't stop glancing over at this new Doctor as they walked, idly wondering how many other faces had gone by since their last meeting, thinking about the two he'd seen since Sarn, the three he'd met so long ago in the Death Zone. It gave him a jolt, realising that place was gone now, where he'd once glimpsed so much of the man's history.
"Doctor." Turlough couldn't look him in the eye. "I'm sorry about Gallifrey."
The Doctor's eyes were unreadable in any case. "I'm... sorry about Trion."
Turlough shrugged. "We had time to escape. Time to prepare, even. And I had a spectacular run of luck getting off the planet." He eyed the Doctor. "I'm sure that had nothing to do with you."
"It didn't." He swallowed. "Actually I thought you'd died."
"Oh." Long lashes flicked down.
The Doctor couldn't turn away from that face. "I'm glad you didn't..."
Turlough laughed once. "Thanks."
The Doctor caught his arm, got him to meet his eyes again. "I'm still... I still want you. To come. You know, with me. Anytime you want another adventure."
Turlough's laugh was natural now. "The more you change, the more you stay the same, Doctor. I have responsibilities I care about now, I can't go. Most notably right now I have this ship to command."
"That's good though! That's good! Yeah..." The Doctor chewed his lip for a moment, thoughtfully. "But we could still go and have a.. a talk about it."
The Trion smirked. "Maybe after we speak to the captain."
"I thought you were in command?"
"Well. I'm in command of the mission, but it's still his ship."
"Is it."
"He's a good man, Doctor. Try not to insult him."
"Ooooh, I don't know..." He made a pained face. "I'll do my best."
Turlough laughed again, and the Doctor was becoming infatuated with it now. There were still shadows in his voice, and it was worn with a little more age and care, but it was cut free of much of the calculated hesitation that had once been Turlough's hallmark. Clearly the dark heart of his old friend had been tempered by the time between them.
That, or he'd gotten to be a better actor.
***
Out in open space, nervous for lack of cover, three long distance scouts and a high speed transport were limping back from their mission to collect the Galross 'work' colony. Their gunship escort rode in the transport's cargo gallery, in ruined fragments, alongside the Galross colony's possessions.
In the much smaller cargo gallery of the lead scout, a young Trion in khaki leaned on a Sontaran sphere, fingertips tapping it nervously. "I'm just saying I'd feel better if we had some of those robots with us."
His friend shrugged. "It's only one Sontaran. They're not that tough."
"Gyre's not officer class. He is that tough."
"That's the real question. Why are they sending a grunt if they want to negotiate?"
"Who knows if they even have any officers left? Gyre's the first Sontaran anyone's seen since the War."
"Maybe they're just laying low?"
"How else can a Sontaran lay?"
They laughed, full of nerves.
And inside the sphere, Gyre rested, feeding deeply from his ship.
***
Captain Markony eyed the Doctor and the Doctor eyed him right back, until Turlough stood on his Chuck Taylored foot.
"Explain to me again what you're doing out here in the middle of a Sontaran minefield?" the captain demanded.
"Explain to me what you're... Ow, Turlough, stop it..."
"What my friend means to say is, he came here by mistake."
"I didn't ask you, Turlough-"
"I didn't come here by mistake!"
Turlough gave the Doctor a look of pure aggravation.
"...I just didn't know it was a minefield these days. Used to be a lovely spot, Celadon."
"Before or after it exploded?" Turlough wondered dryly.
"Well, both really..."
"All right! All right!" Markony cried, throwing a hand up. "That's quite enough of that. You are obviously well acquainted. Turlough, if you're sure you're vouching for this... person?"
Turlough nodded firmly, and then shrugged. "He's more trustworthy than I am, honestly." His glance flashed over to the Doctor, who looked happily embarrassed. He smiled at the floor.
Markony barked a laugh. "Fine then, if he's friendly, we need all the friends we can get. You have the rest of the shift off, Vislor. See what this Doctor's intentions are. You'll be back here in a damned hurry if anything comes up. Understood?"
"Understood," Turlough echoed, taking extra care to act respectful, having just been shown such special treatment in front of the other officers. He didn't need to feed any grudges.
He needn't have worried. Markony turned to address the room. "Good work in a tight spot, boys. Anyone who wants it can have early end of shift. Andor, do you need to be relieved?"
Andor looked up from his work. "I have recovered, sir, thank you."
"Fine then..." He gave Turlough a hard stare. "Well? Get out of here, boy! And take your obstacle with you."
Looking properly chagrined, Turlough bundled the Doctor off the bridge.
Doors closing behind them, the Doctor looked over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. "Turlough..."
"Hm?"
"That man is an android, you know that, don't you."
"Andor?" Turlough nodded. "Movellan."
"What?!"
Turlough looked at him in sharp surprise. "What, what's the matter?"
"Well they're ruthless machines of war, aren't they!"
"Are they?" Turlough gave him a skeptical look.
"Well aren't they? You saw what they did to the Daleks!"
"I saw what their weapon did to the Daleks. When you used it." He didn't bother mentioning the Daleks' current state of affairs.
The Doctor looked urgent, angry, scandalised, all at once. "They're cold and cruel and militaristic machines, Turlough, no better than Cybermen. No better than... than Eternals."
"You mean they don't care about collateral damage, don't you."
"Collateral damage?!"
Turlough's eyebrow twitched. "You do. Doctor, they're cold, yes. Nearly as cold as our Trion generals. At least they're logical, which is more than I can say for half of Command."
"So you're allies with the Movellans, are you? Why? What for?"
"Well, now Trion's dead, we're trying to contact and round up our, er... colonies, and establish a stronger presence on the worlds we have standing connections to. But there are Rutans everywhere since the War. And as the Daleks are gone, the Movellans are at a bit of a loose end. So we've convinced them to help us."
"A loose end? They're not busy enough tying up Dalek space? Expanding their empire?"
"They are. But they're not particularly violent, you know. Most of the former Dalek worlds are happy enough to be under the Movellan wing, at least for the moment. They are helping."
The Doctor was scowling at random bits of the floor. "But why would they... They're a conquering force, not a benevolent one..."
"Listen, Doctor... The Movellans defer command to their battle computers. And all the machines at the top of their hierarchy were destroyed when the Daleks stepped up their aggression. A smaller pool of AI's proved to be more flexible, and their new situation demands that flexibility. I don't think they still think the way you think they do. They understand how to make concessions to human values, for one thing."
"They're dangerous... They've tried to kill me, you know!"
Turlough gave him a tepid look and blinked at him patiently.
The Doctor frowned. "That's different."
"And who were they really trying to kill?"
"Well. Davros. But they were going to burn the atmosphere of the entire planet! Kill hundreds, maybe thousands of innocent people!"
"What planet?"
"Well. Skaro. But-"
"So if they'd succeeded, Gallifrey, Trion, the others... might still be living worlds. Is that what you're saying?"
The Doctor's hair got a bit bushier, his hackles standing with a chill. If the Movellans had succeeded. If he'd felt he had the right. If he'd acted sooner, acted differently. If, if, if. "Who knows. If anything the Daleks probably would've been more successful without Davros's influence throwing them into civil war."
"More successful, without the changes and advances he brought them?"
"Yes, Turlough, more successful without a demented megalomaniac who ended up destroying Skaro himself."
"That was him? But I thought it was a Gallifreyan weapon that destroyed Skaro? Surely that was what drove them to such-"
"All right! You have Movellan allies. I'm happy for you." And the moment they decided the Rutan Host was a manageable enemy, they'd turn on the Trions like tigers. He'd have to find some way to show them.
The tension up, they arrived in silence. Turlough opened a door and ushered the Doctor inside. His quarters were small but comfortable, enough space for a few guests to fit without feeling like sardines. He sat the Doctor on his couch (which was also his bunk) and occupied himself making tea on the other side of the room. "So," he began casually, "how have you been? Near death at every turn as usual, or are you getting old and sensible? Oh, no, you asked me out adventuring didn't you."
"...I did."
"I'm not used to being invited. Usually I insinuate myself."
"You'll go blind."
Turlough choked a little on the cup of tea he was testing. "Interesting defense mechanism, Doctor."
"Sorry. Was it a bit much? I'm a bit Tourette's this time around."
"It's all delivery. The last time I saw you, you'd have flown a line like that well under the radar."
"Sorry."
A look of concern came over Turlough, and he sat next to his new old friend, summoning a table out of the floor and setting a pair of cups on it. "Are you all right, Doctor?"
"Yes... No. Not really."
"You don't want to talk about it, do you."
"What a shock that must be."
Turlough chuckled. "We were never great talkers, you and I."
"Don't... Don't be charming, Turlough."
He shut up and waited for the Doctor to make the next move, sipping his tea, his fingers betraying his nerves, stroking the cup, slipping in and out of the handle. Then he got bored waiting. "You did say you wanted to talk to me, you know."
"You lost your world because of me. Felt the touch of evil because of me. Why don't you hate me?"
Turlough scowled. "Don't be a teenager, Doctor. The universe isn't a pretty place. I'll hate you when you stop wishing it was."
"That's very lenient thinking. Did your brother die?"
Turlough put his tea down. "You're not very good at being cruel."
"You have no idea," the Doctor said, more to himself than anyone else.
The Trion sighed. "Malkon died a long time ago. It was nothing to do with you."
Now the Doctor really did look contrite. "I'm sorry," he muttered.
Turlough shook his head. "It's lost its sting. What is it they say about time healing all wounds?"
"They say it does."
"And what do you say?"
The Time Lord frowned, half-shrugged. "Time makes all things possible; life and death."
"You sound like the sad-eyed Doctor in the frock coat."
"I sound like me," he said sharply.
"Sorry..."
The Doctor scowled as if in pain, tipping his head back, and sighed.
Turlough fidgeted with his cup, noticed himself doing it, put it down. "I won't tease anymore. I promise."
"...The one in the frock coat. He fell in love with a girl too."
"'Too?' You?"
He looked at Turlough, cast his eyes down and nodded.
So he'd lost another one. No wonder he was acting so strangely. "Is she dead?" Turlough asked, tactless but at least gently.
He shook his head very slightly. "Alive, in an inaccessible universe."
"Inaccessible? Really?"
"Until someone finds a way to rejuvenate catastrophically threadbare patches of spacetime, yes, very inaccessible."
"Time not enough to heal that wound then?"
"Not nearly."
"And there's no chance you could reach her anyway? You won't test fate just that little bit more?"
"I know I say it every time, but I'm really not going to risk destroying everything like that, not again - not in cold blood anyway."
Turlough smirked to himself. No, not in cold blood. "It must be hard for you - to own all the tools, and find you mustn't use them when it counts most."
"Just slightly."
"Nice that she's alive though," he said, aiming at jaunty.
"Mmm..."
"And what became of that Earth girl I rescued? Peri, was it?"
The Doctor stared into his tea.
Turlough decided not to press. "I don't suppose you've spoken to Tegan."
He put the cup down. "...No."
The Trion let his gaze dance over the other man, pinstripes and slender limbs, a youthful face full of distant, vicious regrets. He knew the Doctor could see him, could see his lashes flickering, even as he was being ignored. "I never expected to see you again," he confessed, his tone carefully measured.
The Doctor looked at him. They were close now, very close, and Turlough angled his face delicately up, masking the movement with a showy, skittering glance. Almost - almost...
Lured and caught, the Doctor leaned forward and tilted his head just enough, just far enough to brush his lips against Turlough's.
For a moment there was nothing. But Turlough's eyes had dropped shut, and the Doctor could sense the Trion's strong single pulse beating faster. He felt warmer, himself. Very warm. Downright passionate.
One of his arms snaked round Turlough's back and he leaned closer, kissing him earnestly, and hard. Turlough positively melted, responding in kind, a soft growl of a moan rolling in his throat.
They broke apart, a little breathless. "It's you," the Trion murmured, pressing his forehead to the Doctor's.
The Doctor pulled him closer, into his lap, wrapped his arms around him. "It's me," the Time Lord agreed.
Author: Lithrael
Pairing: Ten/Turlough. Ten/Turlough/Five/Turlough + Tegan/Turlough eventually (it's growing!)
Summary: What's Turlough got up to in the 2006 continuity?
Rating: PG for now. Supar-Adult later.
Holy crap. This fic is really going everywhere, fast. OH IF YOU COULD SEE ME BRAINS.
Thanks to Vandonovan for beta!
Part one is here. Also, here be illo of how I am picture Hot And Sexy Uniformed Turlough. (I am not good at drawing older - pretend he older.) (click!)
Turlough, Turlough
Part Two
Turlough couldn't stop glancing over at this new Doctor as they walked, idly wondering how many other faces had gone by since their last meeting, thinking about the two he'd seen since Sarn, the three he'd met so long ago in the Death Zone. It gave him a jolt, realising that place was gone now, where he'd once glimpsed so much of the man's history.
"Doctor." Turlough couldn't look him in the eye. "I'm sorry about Gallifrey."
The Doctor's eyes were unreadable in any case. "I'm... sorry about Trion."
Turlough shrugged. "We had time to escape. Time to prepare, even. And I had a spectacular run of luck getting off the planet." He eyed the Doctor. "I'm sure that had nothing to do with you."
"It didn't." He swallowed. "Actually I thought you'd died."
"Oh." Long lashes flicked down.
The Doctor couldn't turn away from that face. "I'm glad you didn't..."
Turlough laughed once. "Thanks."
The Doctor caught his arm, got him to meet his eyes again. "I'm still... I still want you. To come. You know, with me. Anytime you want another adventure."
Turlough's laugh was natural now. "The more you change, the more you stay the same, Doctor. I have responsibilities I care about now, I can't go. Most notably right now I have this ship to command."
"That's good though! That's good! Yeah..." The Doctor chewed his lip for a moment, thoughtfully. "But we could still go and have a.. a talk about it."
The Trion smirked. "Maybe after we speak to the captain."
"I thought you were in command?"
"Well. I'm in command of the mission, but it's still his ship."
"Is it."
"He's a good man, Doctor. Try not to insult him."
"Ooooh, I don't know..." He made a pained face. "I'll do my best."
Turlough laughed again, and the Doctor was becoming infatuated with it now. There were still shadows in his voice, and it was worn with a little more age and care, but it was cut free of much of the calculated hesitation that had once been Turlough's hallmark. Clearly the dark heart of his old friend had been tempered by the time between them.
That, or he'd gotten to be a better actor.
***
Out in open space, nervous for lack of cover, three long distance scouts and a high speed transport were limping back from their mission to collect the Galross 'work' colony. Their gunship escort rode in the transport's cargo gallery, in ruined fragments, alongside the Galross colony's possessions.
In the much smaller cargo gallery of the lead scout, a young Trion in khaki leaned on a Sontaran sphere, fingertips tapping it nervously. "I'm just saying I'd feel better if we had some of those robots with us."
His friend shrugged. "It's only one Sontaran. They're not that tough."
"Gyre's not officer class. He is that tough."
"That's the real question. Why are they sending a grunt if they want to negotiate?"
"Who knows if they even have any officers left? Gyre's the first Sontaran anyone's seen since the War."
"Maybe they're just laying low?"
"How else can a Sontaran lay?"
They laughed, full of nerves.
And inside the sphere, Gyre rested, feeding deeply from his ship.
***
Captain Markony eyed the Doctor and the Doctor eyed him right back, until Turlough stood on his Chuck Taylored foot.
"Explain to me again what you're doing out here in the middle of a Sontaran minefield?" the captain demanded.
"Explain to me what you're... Ow, Turlough, stop it..."
"What my friend means to say is, he came here by mistake."
"I didn't ask you, Turlough-"
"I didn't come here by mistake!"
Turlough gave the Doctor a look of pure aggravation.
"...I just didn't know it was a minefield these days. Used to be a lovely spot, Celadon."
"Before or after it exploded?" Turlough wondered dryly.
"Well, both really..."
"All right! All right!" Markony cried, throwing a hand up. "That's quite enough of that. You are obviously well acquainted. Turlough, if you're sure you're vouching for this... person?"
Turlough nodded firmly, and then shrugged. "He's more trustworthy than I am, honestly." His glance flashed over to the Doctor, who looked happily embarrassed. He smiled at the floor.
Markony barked a laugh. "Fine then, if he's friendly, we need all the friends we can get. You have the rest of the shift off, Vislor. See what this Doctor's intentions are. You'll be back here in a damned hurry if anything comes up. Understood?"
"Understood," Turlough echoed, taking extra care to act respectful, having just been shown such special treatment in front of the other officers. He didn't need to feed any grudges.
He needn't have worried. Markony turned to address the room. "Good work in a tight spot, boys. Anyone who wants it can have early end of shift. Andor, do you need to be relieved?"
Andor looked up from his work. "I have recovered, sir, thank you."
"Fine then..." He gave Turlough a hard stare. "Well? Get out of here, boy! And take your obstacle with you."
Looking properly chagrined, Turlough bundled the Doctor off the bridge.
Doors closing behind them, the Doctor looked over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. "Turlough..."
"Hm?"
"That man is an android, you know that, don't you."
"Andor?" Turlough nodded. "Movellan."
"What?!"
Turlough looked at him in sharp surprise. "What, what's the matter?"
"Well they're ruthless machines of war, aren't they!"
"Are they?" Turlough gave him a skeptical look.
"Well aren't they? You saw what they did to the Daleks!"
"I saw what their weapon did to the Daleks. When you used it." He didn't bother mentioning the Daleks' current state of affairs.
The Doctor looked urgent, angry, scandalised, all at once. "They're cold and cruel and militaristic machines, Turlough, no better than Cybermen. No better than... than Eternals."
"You mean they don't care about collateral damage, don't you."
"Collateral damage?!"
Turlough's eyebrow twitched. "You do. Doctor, they're cold, yes. Nearly as cold as our Trion generals. At least they're logical, which is more than I can say for half of Command."
"So you're allies with the Movellans, are you? Why? What for?"
"Well, now Trion's dead, we're trying to contact and round up our, er... colonies, and establish a stronger presence on the worlds we have standing connections to. But there are Rutans everywhere since the War. And as the Daleks are gone, the Movellans are at a bit of a loose end. So we've convinced them to help us."
"A loose end? They're not busy enough tying up Dalek space? Expanding their empire?"
"They are. But they're not particularly violent, you know. Most of the former Dalek worlds are happy enough to be under the Movellan wing, at least for the moment. They are helping."
The Doctor was scowling at random bits of the floor. "But why would they... They're a conquering force, not a benevolent one..."
"Listen, Doctor... The Movellans defer command to their battle computers. And all the machines at the top of their hierarchy were destroyed when the Daleks stepped up their aggression. A smaller pool of AI's proved to be more flexible, and their new situation demands that flexibility. I don't think they still think the way you think they do. They understand how to make concessions to human values, for one thing."
"They're dangerous... They've tried to kill me, you know!"
Turlough gave him a tepid look and blinked at him patiently.
The Doctor frowned. "That's different."
"And who were they really trying to kill?"
"Well. Davros. But they were going to burn the atmosphere of the entire planet! Kill hundreds, maybe thousands of innocent people!"
"What planet?"
"Well. Skaro. But-"
"So if they'd succeeded, Gallifrey, Trion, the others... might still be living worlds. Is that what you're saying?"
The Doctor's hair got a bit bushier, his hackles standing with a chill. If the Movellans had succeeded. If he'd felt he had the right. If he'd acted sooner, acted differently. If, if, if. "Who knows. If anything the Daleks probably would've been more successful without Davros's influence throwing them into civil war."
"More successful, without the changes and advances he brought them?"
"Yes, Turlough, more successful without a demented megalomaniac who ended up destroying Skaro himself."
"That was him? But I thought it was a Gallifreyan weapon that destroyed Skaro? Surely that was what drove them to such-"
"All right! You have Movellan allies. I'm happy for you." And the moment they decided the Rutan Host was a manageable enemy, they'd turn on the Trions like tigers. He'd have to find some way to show them.
The tension up, they arrived in silence. Turlough opened a door and ushered the Doctor inside. His quarters were small but comfortable, enough space for a few guests to fit without feeling like sardines. He sat the Doctor on his couch (which was also his bunk) and occupied himself making tea on the other side of the room. "So," he began casually, "how have you been? Near death at every turn as usual, or are you getting old and sensible? Oh, no, you asked me out adventuring didn't you."
"...I did."
"I'm not used to being invited. Usually I insinuate myself."
"You'll go blind."
Turlough choked a little on the cup of tea he was testing. "Interesting defense mechanism, Doctor."
"Sorry. Was it a bit much? I'm a bit Tourette's this time around."
"It's all delivery. The last time I saw you, you'd have flown a line like that well under the radar."
"Sorry."
A look of concern came over Turlough, and he sat next to his new old friend, summoning a table out of the floor and setting a pair of cups on it. "Are you all right, Doctor?"
"Yes... No. Not really."
"You don't want to talk about it, do you."
"What a shock that must be."
Turlough chuckled. "We were never great talkers, you and I."
"Don't... Don't be charming, Turlough."
He shut up and waited for the Doctor to make the next move, sipping his tea, his fingers betraying his nerves, stroking the cup, slipping in and out of the handle. Then he got bored waiting. "You did say you wanted to talk to me, you know."
"You lost your world because of me. Felt the touch of evil because of me. Why don't you hate me?"
Turlough scowled. "Don't be a teenager, Doctor. The universe isn't a pretty place. I'll hate you when you stop wishing it was."
"That's very lenient thinking. Did your brother die?"
Turlough put his tea down. "You're not very good at being cruel."
"You have no idea," the Doctor said, more to himself than anyone else.
The Trion sighed. "Malkon died a long time ago. It was nothing to do with you."
Now the Doctor really did look contrite. "I'm sorry," he muttered.
Turlough shook his head. "It's lost its sting. What is it they say about time healing all wounds?"
"They say it does."
"And what do you say?"
The Time Lord frowned, half-shrugged. "Time makes all things possible; life and death."
"You sound like the sad-eyed Doctor in the frock coat."
"I sound like me," he said sharply.
"Sorry..."
The Doctor scowled as if in pain, tipping his head back, and sighed.
Turlough fidgeted with his cup, noticed himself doing it, put it down. "I won't tease anymore. I promise."
"...The one in the frock coat. He fell in love with a girl too."
"'Too?' You?"
He looked at Turlough, cast his eyes down and nodded.
So he'd lost another one. No wonder he was acting so strangely. "Is she dead?" Turlough asked, tactless but at least gently.
He shook his head very slightly. "Alive, in an inaccessible universe."
"Inaccessible? Really?"
"Until someone finds a way to rejuvenate catastrophically threadbare patches of spacetime, yes, very inaccessible."
"Time not enough to heal that wound then?"
"Not nearly."
"And there's no chance you could reach her anyway? You won't test fate just that little bit more?"
"I know I say it every time, but I'm really not going to risk destroying everything like that, not again - not in cold blood anyway."
Turlough smirked to himself. No, not in cold blood. "It must be hard for you - to own all the tools, and find you mustn't use them when it counts most."
"Just slightly."
"Nice that she's alive though," he said, aiming at jaunty.
"Mmm..."
"And what became of that Earth girl I rescued? Peri, was it?"
The Doctor stared into his tea.
Turlough decided not to press. "I don't suppose you've spoken to Tegan."
He put the cup down. "...No."
The Trion let his gaze dance over the other man, pinstripes and slender limbs, a youthful face full of distant, vicious regrets. He knew the Doctor could see him, could see his lashes flickering, even as he was being ignored. "I never expected to see you again," he confessed, his tone carefully measured.
The Doctor looked at him. They were close now, very close, and Turlough angled his face delicately up, masking the movement with a showy, skittering glance. Almost - almost...
Lured and caught, the Doctor leaned forward and tilted his head just enough, just far enough to brush his lips against Turlough's.
For a moment there was nothing. But Turlough's eyes had dropped shut, and the Doctor could sense the Trion's strong single pulse beating faster. He felt warmer, himself. Very warm. Downright passionate.
One of his arms snaked round Turlough's back and he leaned closer, kissing him earnestly, and hard. Turlough positively melted, responding in kind, a soft growl of a moan rolling in his throat.
They broke apart, a little breathless. "It's you," the Trion murmured, pressing his forehead to the Doctor's.
The Doctor pulled him closer, into his lap, wrapped his arms around him. "It's me," the Time Lord agreed.