"Peaceful, isn't it?"

 "Yes, peaceful."

 Silence.

 "Definitely peaceful."

 "Are you quite finished performing Beckett?"

 "Who?"

 "Never mind."

 Silence.

 "It is peaceful, though."

 "Oh, yes. Definitely peaceful."

 "Punt."

 "Well, I must say that's a bit unnecessary."

 Angela sighed. "They're in the punt." She caught the smirk playing on Jadi's lips. "You are a punt, though." "Do you ever say anything without putting up your manly, 'I'm so tough, cos I don't give a damn' veneer?"

 "Do you ever hold a conversation without putting on your independent, sarcastic future-bitch hat?"

 "Frequently."

 "That's not much of a comeback."

 "I don't want to defile a holy place."

 "Holy?"

 "Holy as you'll get in this god-forsaken universe."

 "The phrase god-forsaken seems a trifle redundant in a universe which never believed in him to begin with."

 "My, aren't we the clever one? This place must be rubbing off on you."

 "Me go club bear now."

 Angela giggled, immediately felt like she was eleven years old, and subsequently felt a totally irrational stab of hatred for Jadi, for making her feel that way. "If only that weren't so close to the truth," she muttered, wondering at the same time whether she meant it or not.

 "I apologise, my lady," Jadi called as he departed. "I'd forgotten you were from such pristene stock."

 Angela shivered in her silver shoes.

 "Of course."

 "But I think that without wishing to pontificate any further on what is already a much over-stated area..."

 "Of course..."

 "This, Doctor... may I call you Doctor?"

 "But of course..."

 "This, and I in no way wish you to think that I say this haphazardly and without due consideration of the import of my words..."

 "Indeed..."

 "That would be foolish. What I wish, and I think I have prepared the way sufficiently for my coup-de-grace..."

 "You have my full attention..."

 "What I wish, is, merely, to point out, succinctly, elegantly, and without recourse to unnecessary embellishments or embarassing over-statement..."

 "As one does..."

 "As one, indeed, is wont to do, if not constantly on guard against such tiring..." Wil swished the wine in his glass from side to side.

 "Self-indulgence?"

 "Indeed. Well put. What I merely wish to do, on this most humble of sun-lit afternoons..."

 "A very humble afternoon indeed..."

 "...in such pleasant company..."

 "Oh, Gwylim, you make me blush..."

 "...and in posession of such an excellent bouquette..."

 "One of the nicest I've tasted in this universe..."

 "...on board such a sturdy punt..."

 "...made from the sturdiest other-universe tree-things..."

 "...in such an excellent, and I know you will support me in this Doctor...an excellent-"

 "Excellent."

 "...parallel universe. All I wish to say, all one needs to say, if anything at all, on such a fundamentally pleasant occasion..."

 "Yes?"

 "Is that this is truly a very peaceful place."

 "Cheers."

 "Octogim". To his relief she stuck out a familiar appendage. He shook it, still relieved, after all this time, that his own arm was normal and skin-coloured. Having a gun for an arm hadn't been nearly as cool as it sounded.

 He found it bizarre, still, after several days here, how similar these people were to humans. Sure there were plenty of humanoid races around, but still... this was another universe, for goddess' sake. What next, alternative-universe Daleks? He stopped that train of thought. Best not to give anyone ideas...

 "How's the study going?" Unlike his companions, Jadi had found it hard to keep from his mind the fact that they were constantly under scrutiny. It made everything he did, everything he said, seem so... fake. He thought back to what Angela had said earlier. Perhaps she hadn't been so far off the mark.

 "I am not part of the study-" she sounded vaguely offended that he would even think she could be- "it is well documented that the watcher cannot avoid becoming part of the experiment. There is no objectivity."

 "So what's the point?"

 "What's the point of anything? We pretend to learn, all the while allowing ourselves to be dragged into each others' vile little messes."

 "You sound like you're speaking from personal experience."

 "And you sound too interested for your own good. Or is it just that you've spent too long with only one human woman for company?"

 Ouch. That was a low blow. Damn perceptive, though. "Now who's letting themselves get dragged into someone's vile little mess?"

 "Merely making an observation."

 "I thought there was no such thing as a disinterested observer."

 "You know you're quite quick, for a thug."

 "And you're quite a thug, for a university student."

 "Do you want to come back to my dorm, then?"

 Jadi's jaw dropped, and Octogim laughed. "I didn't mean for that," she said.

 "Oh..." Jadi felt himself blushing.

 "I just meant for sex..."

 "Yes, Doctor?"

 "Last time I was in a punt, I suddenly found myself trapped in the vortex. When I came out, I was inexplicably fleeing a large building..."

 "Fancy that!"

 "Yes... More wine?"

 "Thank you."

 "My pleasure." The Doctor took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "You know... a wise rat once remarked that there is nothing, absolutely nothing, half so much fun as messing about in boats."

 "He sounds like a very wise rat indeed."

 "Yes. He was. I met him once, you know."

 "Really?"

 "No, not really. Make a good story though. 'The Doctor must uncover the terrible secret behind Toad's automobile... a secret which threatens the entire universe'. No... some things are much better left mundane."

 "Mundane?"

 "Yes. I never thought the word could come to acquire such a positive meaning."

 "Hmmm... Doctor?"

 "Yes, Wil?"

 "Could we be a little less introspective, please?"

 "Sorry."

 "Quite all right. Just seems a pity to ruin such a magnificent day."

 "Yes. Quite right." The Doctor stretched out a hand and let it slip into the water. And closed his eyes.

 Sudjocz wished he didn't have to take such a patronising tone. She was screwing her lecturer after all, and she was pretty sure the Archchancellor knew it. Although he'd never admit it, of coure. No, then he wouldn't be able to make subtle and embarrassing 'accidental' remarks in front of her class-mates. "He appears to have some kind of primitive attachment to the being designated `Ferris', although the precise nature of this attachment is obscured by the fact that each is enacting strange mating rituals which the other seems utterly unable to comprehend. Curious."

 Pompous git, she thought. Pretending to be superior in order to hide the fact that he's just simply past it. The Morok/Ferris thing was no different to a hundred and one bad love/hate relationships she'd seen acted out in student theatre productions. Still, it was fun to watch.

 "He must now attempt to come to some sort of decision. Thanks to your fellow student's unwitting aid, we now have an excellent opportunity to see this being's decision making processes in action. Will he accept the forbidden fruit offered to him so, well, let us say so typically by Mz Tradethas, or will he acknowledge the bond he has to his fellow specimen?"

 The room was silent as all stared expectantly at the screen.

 "Ah, yes," the Archchancellor said at last, "precisely as I expected..."

 "Hmmm?"

 "Did I wake you?"

 "Not at all. What is it?"

 "Things aren't going to remain peaceful, are they?"

 "Why do you say that?"

 "Because we're here."

 Perhaps you're right."

 "Why is it that we always seem to draw trouble to us?"

 The Doctor sat up, and fixed his gaze on something away in the distance. "I don't think of it as attracting trouble", he said. "It's just that we care about a great many things that others choose to ignore. Our trouble is that we enjoy boats, and streams, and peaceful afternoons-" the sun was beginning to fade now, the nighttime insects finding their voices "-and we think everybody else should be able to enjoy them too. If they want to."

 Wil thought about that, and didn't know if it made him feel any better or not. So he just drained the last few mouthfuls from the wine bottle, and let himself feel it as it trickled slowly down his throat.

 Or maybe they weren't.

 And she tore at her hair, quietly and slowly, willing it to go away. But it was back now... it was hers... and she could be Angela Ferris no more.

 To be continued...