Fitz grinned despite himself as he walked off the stage. His guitar hung loosely at his side, and it felt right to let the room's applause wash over him. It was just a part-time gig, an occasional song or two at a fairly nondescript club in London, but he had to admit that he always felt more alive after playing.

Accepting a drink from one of the regulars - Karen, Kasey, something like that - Fitz took a sup and glanced around the room. It was a mixture of strangers and familiar faces, most of them turning their attention back to their drinks now that he wasn't playing on stage anymore.

A handsome man sitting near the back of the room caught his eye, winking broadly when he noticed that he'd been caught staring. Fitz paused in surprise. He wasn't always the first to notice someone flirting with him, but he'd have to be blind to miss this guy. Raising an eyebrow, Fitz downed his drink and started toward the table where the man was sitting.

Not looking away from Fitz, the man elbowed the blonde woman sitting next to him. Fitz couldn't tell what the man said to her, but the leer on his face gave Fitz a few ideas. The woman blushed, her red face visible from a distance, but she glanced in his direction as well. He knew that he wasn't imagining the interest in her eyes. Well, he thought that he wasn't at least. If he knew anything about women, it was that they were difficult to read under the best of circumstances.

Fitz couldn't help but think that he might have an interesting night after all.

"You were trying to get my attention?" Fitz asked as he made it to the table. He was aiming for a casual tone, but he couldn't help but think that it might have come across a little more hopeful than he'd planned.

The man ran his eyes over Fitz, and the look on his face suggested that he had a fairly vivid imagination. "Oh, you have no idea," he said with a lecherous grin. Then he offered Fitz his hand. "Captain Jack Harkness, but why don't you just call me Jack?"

"Fitz." He took Jack's hand, only blinking once in surprise when - instead of shaking it - Jack brought it up to his lips for a kiss.

The woman smiled shyly at Fitz as Jack finally let go of his hand. "I'm Rose," she said. "Ignore Jack if he gets too bad. We always do."

Fitz grinned back at her, quirking an eyebrow. "We?"

Her smile faded slightly as she glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah," she said, suddenly sounding distracted, "he's supposed to be here somewhere."

"He's probably still dealing with the you-know-who's out back," Jack said, patting her arm. "Don't worry, I'm sure he's fine. He'll probably be back in minute to glare disapprovingly as we slip off with Fitz to give him a night he won't forget any time soon."

Fitz wasn't certain whose face grew redder . . . his or Rose's.

Jack laughed and started to continue. Then he paused suddenly. "Speak of the devil."

Rose's face lit up as she half-stood in her seat to wave at someone who was apparently coming up behind Fitz. "Doctor!" she called out. "We're over here!"

Fitz felt the blood drain from his face. He half-noticed Jack shooting him a puzzled look, obviously picking up that something was wrong, but he didn't comment. Not entirely certain who or what he was expecting to see, Fitz slowly turned around.

The man headed their way was unfamiliar. His hair was close-shorn and there was a haunted look in his eyes. But the leather coat he was wearing - ithat/i Fitz recognized. It had used to be his, after all.

The Doctor stumbled, coming to a sudden halt as he stared at Fitz. He looked as if he'd seen a ghost. Before he realized what he was doing, Fitz stepped forward and grabbed the Time Lord by the coat. He dug his hands into the leather, holding onto it as if it was a lifeline. The face was unfamiliar but he'd know that completely befuddled expression anywhere. Without hesitating, he pulled the Doctor toward him and kissed him right on the lips.

Fitz was vaguely aware of an impressed whistle coming from behind him - courtesy of Captain Jack Harkness, he assumed - but his attention was focused elsewhere. After a few seconds, he reluctantly pulled away. The Doctor gaped at him, and Fitz could see hints of the man he'd known in those unfamiliar eyes.

"I thought you were dead," Fitz said, his voice barely more than a harsh whisper. Then, without waiting for a reply, he pulled back and punched the Doctor right in the nose. "What he hell were you thinking, telling Compassion to drop me off here without even saying goodbye?"

Judging by the curious looks he was getting from people sitting nearby, Fitz suspected that his voice had gotten a little louder than he'd meant.

The Doctor clutched his nose. He glared at Fitz, a mixture of surprise and anger on his face. "Oi!"

Fitz stared at him, silently challenging him to say a word. He jerked slightly when someone clasped his shoulder. He'd almost forgotten about Jack and Rose.

"Friend of yours, Doctor?" Jack drawled.

The Doctor stared at Fitz for a moment with unreadable eyes. Then he slowly brought his hand away from his nose, his mouth twitching slightly. "I'd like to think so."

Fitz smiled despite himself, his anger drifting away.

"This isn't going to involve purple aliens in the Thames again, is it?" Rose asked, sliding past Fitz to stand by the Doctor's side. She slipped her hand into the Doctor's, not trying to hide the slightly possessive look in her eyes. "Because that's what happened the last time we ran into a friend of yours."

The Doctor let out a long-suffering sigh. "For the last time, the Brigadier apologized for that several times."

Jack snorted as he finally let go of Fitz's shoulder. "He never apologized to me," he griped good-naturedly. "At least he didn't pull a gun on either of you."

"I warned you not to flirt with him."

Jack shot the Doctor a toothy grin as he subtly tugged on Rose's free arm. "He pulled the gun before I ever said a word! That was recognition I saw in his eyes, I'm sure of it!"

"I'm not taking you to the 1970s to meet him when he was younger," the Doctor growled.

Fitz felt disconnected from the conversation. The names, the places, even the tones of their voices . . . they were all familiar. But it didn't feel right to him. He was the odd man out. If it hadn't been for the Doctor not moving his gaze from his throughout the conversation, he would have thought he'd turned invisible.

"Come on, Rose," Jack said, pulling at her arm again. Apparently subtlety hadn't worked. "Let's go dance."

For the first time since he's seen Fitz standing there, the Doctor moved his gaze to focus it on Jack. "Dance?" he repeated.

Jack smirked. "Literally speaking, Doc," he said, gesturing toward the dance floor with his free hand. "Though if you and Fit-"

Rose finally let go of the Doctor, clasping her hand over Jack's mouth. "We're leaving now."

Without saying another word, she spun around and all but dragged Jack away. He winked at them over his shoulder as they disappeared into the crowd, leaving Fitz and the Doctor alone.

"Well." The Doctor looked distinctly uncomfortable as he straightened up. "It's been . . . some time."

Fitz nodded. He paused, trying to decide whether or not to state the obvious. "You've regenerated."

Shaking his head, the Doctor walked past him and sat down in the chair that Jack had vacated. After a second, Fitz walked over and dropped in the seat next to him.

They sat there a moment, neither of them saying a word.

"I meant to come back," the Doctor said finally. "I just . . . things were different."

Fitz managed a weak smile. "I can imagine." He cleared his throat uncomfortably, trying to think of the different ways he'd imagined this conversation would go if he ever had it. He couldn't remember a single one of them. "How's Romana? Is she still President?"

The Doctor froze, his eyes darkening.

"Damn," Fitz muttered, leaning back in his chair. He recognized that look. He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair. "How bad is it?"

It took a moment for the Doctor to reply. "Gallifrey's gone."

Again? Fitz managed to hold his tongue at the last second. Without even thinking about what he was doing, Fitz reached across the table to grab the Doctor's hand. It felt wrong - larger and rougher than the one what he was used to holding.

Fitz didn't know what to say. What could he possibly say? Almost unconsciously, he rubbed his thumb in a circle on the Doctor's palm. "The coat suits you," he said finally. "Where'd I forget it?"

The Doctor shot him a grateful look at the change of subject. "Draped over a chair in the library." The dark look on his face faded a little, and Fitz saw a hint of mirth in his eyes. "An undergarment that looked suspiciously like one of Ace's was under it."

Fitz felt his face grow warm. He ducked his head, abashed.

A cool hand reached out to tilt his face back up, and Fitz found himself staring directly into the Doctor's eyes. Before he realized what was happening, the Doctor had leaned in and was kissing him again.

It was over far too soon for Fitz's liking.

"Gonna punch me again?" the Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow. It look for all the world as if he was trying not to laugh.

Fitz answered by grabbing the Doctor's coat and pulling him back for another kiss.