Author's Note: New one-shot. I had so much fun writing the previous one (What Lies Hidden), I decided to write another. As mentioned in the summery, this takes place right after The Time Monster.

I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who reads/favorites/reviews this. It is always appreciated.

Where the Path Leads

The Doctor stood at the summit of a hill overlooking the grounds at the Newton Institute. He had suspected that the Master's reckless experiments might have done some damage to the fabric of time in this area and soon found evidence that he was right in his assumptions. The monitor on the temporal stability reader he had constructed a couple days ago showed some anomalies in the area of and around the institute. He stared at the dials, compared them to the readings he had taken elsewhere, and did some quick calculations in his head.

"Well Doctor, has that device of yours told you whether we have something to worry about or not?"

The Doctor smiled and glanced back at Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, who was currently standing a couple feet away. When the soldier found out that the Doctor intended to revisit the Newton Institute to make sure that there was no lasting damage due to the Master's machine, he had insisted on coming along. The two of them rode over in Bessie, and there was more than one moment when the Doctor was pretty sure that he did not approve of his driving habits. So far, the Brigadier had waited quietly while he checked the temporal energies both in the buildings and in more than one spot in the area around them. The Doctor decided that it was time to reward his patience.

"No," he finally said. "There are a few tiny rips in the flow of time, but they will heal themselves soon enough."

"And you're sure that there is no need to evacuate the premises again and place it under quarantine?" the Brigadier asked him.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but no," the Doctor answered. "As long as the scientists there avoid conducting any matter-transference or time-related experiments for the next few years, no noticeable temporal disruptions should develop."

"Doctor, I'm not exactly sure where you get this idea that I enjoy herding scientists out of their laboratories," the Brigadier said.

"But don't you?" the Doctor said, a smirk firmly fixed on his face. "The triumph of the military presence over that of scientific pursuits?"

"Hardly," the Brigadier replied, his eyes rolling upward slightly. "You forget that I have first-hand knowledge of how difficult men of science can be."

The Doctor's smirk faltered while the accompanying glint of satisfaction in the Brigadier's eyes did not escape his notice.

"Even when those types decide to be cooperative, which is almost always never, there is still the paperwork to consider," he continued. "No Doctor, I'd rather let you chaps carry on with whatever it is you do than put up with the headaches that inevitably result when your work is interrupted. That is, unless we are talking about work that needs to be interrupted, of course."

The Doctor nodded in agreement. Normally, he was reluctant to interfere with serious scientific study, but he had also seen one too many examples of scientists who did not place enough importance on the responsibility that came with knowledge and discovery. It was part of the reason why he sometimes favored the company of more practical minds, people who looked beyond the academic questions and who made the important connections between theory and the realities of life.

Over these last couple of years, the Doctor eventually realized that he now counted the Brigadier among those whose practical, yet unique, outlook he found refreshing and needed to keep a balanced perspective. True, the soldier was sometimes rigid in his approach and was not always open to ideas that were vastly outside his experience. However, recently, the Doctor had noticed a willingness to learn and a sincere effort to adapt to the challenges he faced from phenomena that were unlike anything native to Earth.

"Right, I will inform Geneva that the work being done here can continue unimpeded for the time being," the Brigadier said. "That should make a lot of diplomats from various countries happy. Now, I'm sure you would like to get back to headquarters so you can continue your endless tinkering with your TARDIS."

"You make it sound as if I'm engaged in pointless trifling," the Doctor said, a frown appearing.

"I'm not sure if I would go that far," the Brigadier replied. "But I also don't think it's out of line to propose that there are a vast number of other areas of research where your expertise could be put to better use."

"Yes," the Doctor said. "And of course, any discoveries I make would be evaluated for their usefulness to UNIT first and foremost. No thank you, Brigadier. I prefer to stick with my own personal pursuits, if you please. My role within UNIT is to advise, not blatantly tamper with the natural development of your planet's science and technology."

"Fair enough, Doctor," the Brigadier said. "I'll leave you to it. Although, just once I wish you would shoulder your share of the procedural chores that the rest of us have to put up with. You know, I don't think I've ever actually seen you turn in any of the reports I've requested from you."

"Have I not?" the Doctor said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Perhaps it's because I've been engaged in so many of your investigations of late."

"All right, Doctor, all right," the Brigadier said in a surprisingly good-natured tone. "But one of these days, I'm sure you'll discover that paperwork eventually bests all of us."

The Doctor laughed and started to walk away when he noticed that the Brigadier hadn't moved from where he was standing. Instead, he had turned to face the nearby countryside.

"Brigadier?" he said. "Can't I give you a lift back to headquarters?"

"Hmm? Oh, um, no that won't be necessary. One of my men is stopping by here later to collect the last of the statements from the staff for our reports. I can ride back with him."

The Doctor nodded, but did not resume his trip back to his car. Normally, he would have been fine with letting the Brigadier go about his business on his own partially so that he wouldn't be roped into any sort of "official duties" that could come up. Still, something about the distracted way that the soldier answered him caught his attention. His suspicions only grew when he saw the Brigadier continue to silently stare at the landscape in front of him, apparently lost in thought.

After some additional reflection, the Doctor swiftly came to the conclusion that the Brigadier had been like this for a while now. He tried to think about what the root of the man's preoccupation could be when suddenly a possibility came to him. One which he was certain was worth pursuing.

"Tell me," he said. "How is Captain Yates?"

"Yates?" the Brigadier said, turning toward him. "Better, from what I understand. He is on medical leave until our doctors clear him for duty. Concussion, severe contusions, and four broken ribs they said. Not to mention all those stitches where that shrapnel grazed his temple."

"Poor Mike," the Doctor said, shaking his head. "Well, I suppose we should be thankful that it wasn't more serious. That V-1 could have blown him and the rest of the men to pieces if they hadn't reacted as quickly as they did."

"True," the Brigadier said. "Unfortunately, Yates is also quite aware that his condition is not as serious as it could have been and is determined to escape that medical bay as soon as possible. I've already put up with more than one complaint from the doctor in charge of his case. It seems Yates has made multiple requests to be re-evaluated for fitness for duty."

"Yes, I can't imagine where he might have picked up a trait like that from," the Doctor said pointedly.

"Then, as if I don't have enough headaches right now, there's the situation with Sergeant Benton," the Brigadier said, ignoring his remark.

"Oh?" the Doctor said. "I didn't think there were any ill effects from his…experience with the Master's device."

"Yes, 'experience'. That is a good word for it," the Brigadier said. "I can honestly say that I've never seen any of my men in a nappy before, Doctor, and it's not exactly an 'experience' I would like to repeat. Ever."

"Yes well," the Doctor chuckled. "I doubt that Sergeant Benton is eager to repeat it any time soon either."

"I suppose not," the Brigadier said with a hint of a smile. "And no, you are right, Doctor. As far as our physicians were able to tell, Benton doesn't need any medical leave. No, it's the other problems that are getting on my nerves."

"Other problems?"

"Apparently, Benton's brief adventure as an infant has made the rounds with the rest of the men," the Brigadier sighed. "There have been…incidents. Baby bottles appearing on Benton's desk, messages on the notice boards requesting the services of a nanny, and so on. Just this morning, I saw Benton having to dispose of a wheelbarrow of pins and nappies. He said that he had found them stuffed into his locker."

"Oh dear," the Doctor said, unable to hold back his laughter any longer. "I don't suppose he has any ideas about who is doing this."

"None so far," the Brigadier said. "I'll admit that I'm not entirely eager to order him to investigate this. It's not the sort of thing an officer in UNIT should be spending his time on. But it is starting to get out of hand."

"Well, I'm sure it'll be forgotten soon enough," the Doctor assured him.

"Yes, but in the meantime, it's not good for Benton," the Brigadier said. "More to the point, it's not good for a soldier of his rank to appear unable to maintain discipline and respect from the men under him."

At first, the Doctor thought about reasserting his belief that this was just a series of harmless pranks, but then he realized the intent behind the Brigadier's words. These were not the words of a person who only cared about maintaining an image within the chain of command. They were sincere considerations over the long-term career of one of his men.

It was then that it occurred to the Doctor that this sort of concern had shown itself before. He remembered that moment when that flying bomb had dropped onto the convoy just as the Brigadier had had a chance to warn Yates about it. There were several tense minutes after it exploded where there was nothing but static on all of UNIT's communication devices. No one knew what had happened to anyone else. As he, Jo and the Brigadier raced over to the blast site, the Doctor found that he was more than a little afraid of what they would find. Years wandering through time and space had taught the Doctor many lessons about fear.

One of the more important ones being that there were few things as terrifying as not knowing if the people you cared about were all right or not.

Now that he had had a chance to think about it, the Doctor realized that he had been startled for a second at the way the Brigadier had dropped the need to address Yates by his rank while yelling out his warning. He was not, however, shocked at the concern the Brigadier showed when they arrived and were checking to see if anyone was seriously hurt. The Brigadier might be a soldier through and through, but underneath the spirit of the warrior was a heart that did not shirk from the consequences of his actions and that grounded his purpose for fighting with the desire to protect others.

In some ways, he reminded the Doctor a lot of Jamie, a Highlander who had no shortage of courage or the will to fight when necessary, and yet who was also one of the most compassionate and insightful people he had ever known. The Doctor could remember a time when he had painted soldiers only as people who resolved conflict through violence and was grateful that he had taken the time to look beyond these assumptions.

"Is there something else on your mind, Brigadier?" he asked. The Doctor knew even as he asked this that there was a good chance that the question would be brushed aside, but he was also confident that he would regret it if he didn't ask it.

"There is," the soldier answered. "Not that it's something you can fully appreciate."

"Try me," the Doctor said.

The Brigadier took a deep breath and took a few steps back so he could stand next to the Doctor. There were a few more moments of silence until he finally spoke again.

"All right, Doctor," the Brigadier said. "If you must know, I was just thinking about the efficacy of UNIT."

"In what way?"

"In every way," the Brigadier answered. "Doctor, when I made my offer to head this organization to the UN, it was not as if I had not invested a great deal of forethought. I remembered what had happened in the Underground with the Yeti and how effective normal methods were in that situation. I went in knowing that new approaches and ideas would have to be considered even if they were to be grounded in good, solid military fundamentals."

The Brigadier paused and placed the swagger stick he had been holding onto the bonnet of the Doctor's car.

"I also remember what happened to the men under my command during that incident," the soldier continued. "I am no stranger to losses on the battlefield, Doctor. I know that sometimes a losing battle must still be fought, no matter what the consequences, in order to achieve a greater end. And I have led men into battle before knowing that there was a strong likelihood that they would be killed. It's a reality that I face daily within UNIT. But all this…."

The Doctor watched as the Brigadier raised his hands and parted them in front of the institute off in the distance.

"Fighting Roundheads and dodging V-1s," he said. "Having my men be turned into babies by one of the Master's machines. These are not scenarios that the military prepares you for."

"Worried that UNIT might not be fulfilling its purpose?" the Doctor asked, hoping that his tone would not be misinterpreted. "Or perhaps that you might not be best suited for the job?"

"No, that isn't it," the Brigadier said. "If I believed that I was not the man for this job, then I would have no business handing out orders to my men. And despite the setbacks and difficulties we've faced, I still firmly believe that UNIT serves a vital purpose."

The Brigadier turned away from the Doctor again and took a couple of steps toward the summit of the hillside they were standing on.

"What I question is the full extent of the purpose we're supposed to be serving," he said. "We have some of the best soldiers and the brightest scientific minds at our disposal. And yet there are times, like this most recent business with the Master, where the only purpose we can really serve is that of an armed fetch-and-carry role. As you and Miss Grant so eloquently pointed out, the whole affair was wrapped up thousands of years ago in that TARDIS of yours. At least Sergeant Benton was at the center of the action, albeit as an infant. Me and my men were reduced to standing still. Quite literally."

The Brigadier clasped his hands in front of him, his shoulders squaring.

"I've always been aware that your role in these events is far more than that of a mere advisor," he added. "What I question is if our role truly extends beyond drivers and hired guns when the occasion calls for it. I question the future of UNIT, Doctor because I know that your own future will one day extend far past any of us or even this planet. One day, we will have to find our own path. And I question what this path will be in the face of all these things that lie so completely outside our current understanding and capacity."

The Doctor frowned. He knew better than to think that the Brigadier lacked confidence in himself or his men. But the fact that the soldier was able to think for himself and did try to stretch his mind to embrace more possibilities made it so that he was becoming increasingly aware of how small his existence was within the universe. The Doctor believed that it was an important epiphany to have. However, he did not believe that it should be used to foster a sense of insignificance either.

He pulled a small crystalline circuit board from his TARDIS out of his pocket and moved to stand next to the Brigadier.

"See this," he said to the soldier. "This is part of the temporal stabilizers for when the TARDIS is traveling in the Time Vortex. It's an essential piece of equipment. Without it, a Time Lord would never be able to move freely in time as well as space. It was one of the very last things my people perfected before we gained control over temporal forces."

The Doctor held the circuits up to the light, bands of color bending across his sleeve.

"You might think that this invention led to a great age of exploration among my people," the Doctor said. "Well, to some extent you would be right about that. Especially during times when the Time Lords found themselves in the midst of wars that spanned across galaxies. But, over time, there were those among us who decided that it was better to observe than to participate, to look upon others and pontificate on their fates rather than use our abilities as a force for good. As a result, my people became ill-equipped to use their powers for anything other than academic purposes."

"But not you?" the Brigadier asked.

"Well, to be perfectly honest, including me," the Doctor said, scratching the back of his neck. "The only difference between me and the rest of them was that I was able to pluck up enough courage to leave when I finally found the means. That and my own genius of course."

"Naturally," the soldier said with an exaggerated sigh.

"The fact was, I knew as little as most of the rest of them about how to go about living as a perpetual traveler in time and space," the Doctor continued. "There was a steep learning curve, of that I can assure you. And in those days, my control over the TARDIS was a touch more…erratic than it will be once I get it working again. Practically every day was an uncertain one for me. I had no way of seeing where the path I was taking would lead me."

The Doctor put the device back in his pocket as both he and the Brigadier went back to gazing at the grounds near the institute.

"You might find this hard to believe, but a single Time Lord traveling the universe is not so formidable of an entity," the Doctor said. "Usually, I just have to do the best I can."

"There is a lot to be said for that approach," the Brigadier said with a slight smile.

"Yes, yes there is," the Doctor replied, his own smile appearing. "And I think you'll agree that any battle, even one that is lost or only barely won, is a step forward when one keeps that mindset in place."

The Brigadier looked over at him, a mix of astonishment and relief on his face. Those were quickly covered up into a more sedate smile.

"Thank you, Doctor," he said quietly. There was another moment of silence before the soldier cleared his throat and turned away from the institute.

"Right, well it's probably time that we got back," the Brigadier said.

"I thought you were going to wait for your man to finish his task here," the Doctor said.

"I could, but I probably should try to tackle a few of those supplies reports before I call it a day," the Brigadier replied. "I might as well risk riding back with you."

"Risk?!" the Doctor said. "In Bessie? Brigadier, that car has been modified and augmented in almost every conceivable way. I can assure you that it's a perfectly safe machine."

"It's not the car that I worry about, Doctor," the Brigadier responded, the smirk having returned to his face.

"Brigadier, need I remind you that I'm giving you a ride out of courtesy?" the Doctor said. "I could simply leave you here to wait for one of your soldiers to take you back."

"You could, granted," the Brigadier nodded. "And I also could take my time approving your latest requisition for equipment. You'll recall that there is a lot of paperwork I need to get to."

Both men stared each other down for a moment more before starting to chuckle.

"Come on, then," the Doctor said. "I'll have you back in no time at all."

"If it's all the same to you, Doctor, I'll settle for just making it back in one piece," the Brigadier said as he picked up his stick.

There was one last half-hearted glare between them before they got into the car and sped off toward UNIT headquarters.