It's better than playing the blues (OPEN)

The song was supposed to be "When You Say Nothing At All", played in a sentimental style and intended for a slow, romantic dance. It should have been played by a woman on a baby grand piano, backed up by a husband and wife on acoustic guitar and bass, and by a man on the saxophone, all four from the Cardiff University Music Department.

That was before the sax player got sick, and they had to pick up a replacement fast. He was good, but he kept working little improvisational riffs into the songs.

That was also before Adagio - and nobody blamed her for this in the slightest - had to take a break before she punched the mother of the bride.

Now, "When You Say Nothing At All" was mutating out of the control of the husband and wife guitar team. The new guy on the sax - Robin Goodfellow, he called himself in what was obviously a stage name - into a smoky (and highly suggestive) jazz number.

The newlyweds hardly seemed to mind. Nobody else on the dance floor was objecting either.

The mother of the bride was furious. As the song wound its way to the end, the sax player wringing extra improvisational material out of the last few bars, she stormed towards the stage. "What was that?" she demanded.

The guitarists started to stammer an apology, but the sax player held up a hand for silence. He peered at the mother of the bride over his sunglasses, and smiled a lazy smile. "Passion, madame. That was passion, distilled into music."

"That is not how that song is performed!"

The sax player lifted an eyebrow. "Really? It seems to me that it was just performed that way, and quite successfully."

"I have a Doctorate in Music Theory, you impudent-"

"And I have passion."

"What does that have to do with-"

He looked startled. "Maybe, if you'd actually experienced passion, you'd understand."

She began to sputter, enraged.

"Now, why don't you go back to your dry theory and let those of us who understand music get back to entertaining your guests?"

A few minutes later, having been escorted by two very serious looking men (and, it must be said, to the general distress of the guests), Robin and his saxophone were sitting outside the hall. "And don't think you're going to get paid for this, you impudent wretch!" the mother of the bride practically shrieked.

Robin's only response was a grin, as the door was slammed in his face.

"Oh god, whats happened?"

Robin smiled a quirky little smile as Adagio approached him. "Nothing too serious, I'm afraid. A matter of artistic differences between myself and the mother of the bride." He polished an imaginary spot of tarnish from the neck of the sax.

"The difference being, of course, that I was the artist in the conversation. One thing led to another, and I found myself rather unceremoniously asked to leave."

He examined the instrument with a careful eye, then looked up at Adagio. "Sorry I won't be there for the rest of the gig," he said seriously. "Can I make it up to you? Dinner, maybe? Or maybe just coffee, after your final set?"

She laughed at his explanation, and accepted his apologies. Both are good signs, he thought.

"Maybe not dinner, but drinks sound nice. I'm a tea person myself."

"Tea?" he frowned in thought for a moment. "Sure. I know a good place. Finish up your set. I'll just go ahead and play along."

And then he heard it. A distinctive whirring, grinding sound, accompanied by a flashing blue light and a gust of displaced air. Pushing his sunglasses up on his forehead, he massaged the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. "The visible universe is 37 billion light years in diameter right now," he muttered. "How do we keep running into each other?"

"Hello. I'm...Doctor Gallifrey. But you can call me The Doctor."

Robin sighed again, irritably. Yep, it was definitely him.

"Who are you? Are you honeymooners? I knew a pair of honeymooners once. The Ponds, I think. Or is it the other way around? If it is, then they're The Williams. If not, forget everything I said, except for the part about my name. Names are important. Without a name you'd be nobody"

The Doctor smiled.

Robin did not. Instead, he made quick little "shooing" gestures with his left hand - the one that should be out of Adagio's line of sight.

Behind her back, Robin was mouthing "Go away!" in exaggerated pantomime, followed by "five minutes!".

He had a sinking feeling it wasn't going to work.

"Not a problem..."

Looking at this Doctor fellow Adagio was surprised to see the look of recognition cross his face when he saw Robin. Instead of keeping at a normal speed, he quickened his speech pattern and Adagio could only barely understand a bit of what he was saying.

Turning to look at the two men before her, Adagio backed away from them both and put her hands on her hips in a way that only a female could. It was her, 'things need to be explained' pose.

"Well, would someone like to fill me in on the story of how Sir Space Doctor knows Robin? Oh, and please don't insult me by acting like at least one of you did not come from another world, I happen to know a time and space traveler myself."

This whole situation was turning strange, and though Adagio had no problem with it, she'd prefer not to be left out of the loop for too long.

Jenny was doing what she seemed to be doing a lot of lately; walking the streets of every town, city, and village that she came across and today was no different. It was a nice day, the perfect day to be out in the sunlight and fresh air. Jenny thought that she would never get use to such large, wide open spaces. No roof, no narrow corridors, no silence like there was in the dead of space.

Life here was plentiful and fabulous. Jenny thought it brilliant. As she walked she came upon an area that contained a rather large building. People came and went from the place in what Jenny could only refer to as fancy clothing. Many of the people were bedecked with at least one flower and the people seemed to be in a rather good mood. Jenny figured that something within the building held something of great interest and was cause for celebration.

Jenny stopped briefly and watched the people. A young woman and two men were engaged in a conversation near a large blue box. They seemed very animated in their conversation, especially one of the men.

She slowly made her way up to them and smiled, and was about to ask them what’s going on in. But before she got the opportunity one of the men said he was The Doctor and that he was from Gallifrey. She looked at him closely and decided that he looked nothing like The Doctor and the man was obviously lying, “You don’t look anything like The Doctor,” she said as she started to turn away and carry on with her explorationistic walk.