The Brigadier quirked a distinguished brow at the Doctor. "Well, I suppose I might as well offer you a room for the night, seeing how you've bloody near blown up your Tardis."

The Doctor smiled broadly. "How gracious of you, Brigadier."

"But we must be quite clear on one thing, Doctor."

"Oh? What's that?"

"You're to tell me all about how you came to be the way you are now. It's quite a difference, you know." A quick smile. "Gives a fellow a thing or two to think about."

"Does it now?" The Doctor smirked as he patted a side panel on the Tardis. "See you tomorrow, old girl. Don't go anywhere without me." And turning back to the Brigadier, he said. "I'm anxious to catch up with you, dear chap. Quite anxious myself, I assure you."

The Brigadier's housekeeper supplied them with a marvellous dinner, during which the Doctor told his host all about how his latest regeneration had come about. The tale was met with a mixture of interest and disbelief.

"Odd business, this regeneration tomfoolery." The Brigadier dabbed at his moustache with a napkin. "Makes me dizzy just to think about it."

"Quite." The Doctor chuckled. He finished his glass of port. "Well then," he prompted.

The Brigadier, though surprised at his guest's hurry, left his own unfinished glass on the table and rose. "Yes. Shall we retire to the library?"

"That would be marvellous. Still my favourite room in your house, Brigadier."

"Yes, I know." The Brigadier smiled, thinking to himself that it really was good to have the Doctor back. Very good indeed.

They entered the comfortable, green velvet and rosewood furnished room, and the Brigadier made his way straight to the sideboard, where he retrieved a cigar from a case; the only time he smoked was after dinner, though he had very nearly broken that habit during the Doctor's absence.

Hearing a soft click, he turned and was somewhat surprised to find the Doctor locking the door behind them and looking at him rather intently.

"What is it, Doctor?"

"Well, you have some questions for me, I gather. And I have a few more requirements to add to my wardrobe and the car we chatted about earlier, so I thought we might as well be undisturbed." The Doctor grinned like the Cheshire cat.

"More requirements, eh?" The Brigadier let out an elegant snort, then began to puff on his cigar while assessing the man now approaching him. "You might have forgotten this since you've... well, changed, Doctor, but UNIT does not have free and unlimited access to the Bank of England, you know."

The Doctor looked quite amused at this. He straightened out his deep blue velvet jacket and leaned his hip against the sideboard where his host was standing. "Don't worry, Brigadier. I shan't be placing any further financial burdens on UNIT." He tilted his head for an assessing gaze. "And I'm finding that my memory appears to be returning in a lot of matters."

"Well, that's splendid news, at any rate." Lethbridge-Stewart smiled. "Care to explain those added requirements, then?"

"With pleasure." The Doctor took the cigar from his host's fingers, placed it in the crystal ashtray to his left, and tilted the Brigadier's face towards him by the chin.

Before the shocked man could utter a word, the Doctor had leaned in, and the Brigadier was finding himself soundly and thoroughly kissed. A long arm wrapped possessively around his middle and held him tightly against a body not only substantially taller and firmer than the kind of thing he was used to, but one which seemed to be thrumming with energy. Due to this curious double heartbeat perhaps?

The Brigadier was unable to ponder the matter at length due to being stiff with shock. Otherwise he would certainly have struggled. Not that the whole thing was... unpleasant as such. But this was certainly a new development.

The Doctor trapped his host against the sideboard with a shift in position and parted the surprisingly responsive lips with very little effort. He felt much encouraged by the low moan emanating from his captive, and took it as permission to slide the hand resting in the small of the man's back lower, bringing his mid-section hard against his own.

"Hmpf!" gasped the Brigadier, struggling to tilt back far enough to put speaking distance between them. "What the blazes do you think you're doing?" he panted, wide-eyed.

"I should think that rather obvious, Alastair." The Doctor smiled indulgently.

In no mood to be smiled at indulgently, the Brigadier shoved at the time lord's chest and slipped out of his disadvantageous position. "Of all the..." He took a few deep breaths, wondering whether to even point out that they were not exactly on a first name basis; not that the Doctor himself seemed to even possess such a thing. But considering the situation, he thought there were other indiscretions more worthy of attention.

"Now look here, Doctor," he said sternly, concerned by the continued pleasantness of the time lord's expression. "I can only assume you're not yet in full possession of your faculties, but good heavens, man. You can't simply go and ravish a fellow like that."

"Oh, but my dear Alastair." The Doctor smiled. "I've barely begun."

"Keep your distance!" the Brigadier ordered, firmly suppressing the shiver snaking up his spine at the Doctor's rather predatory tone. He took a few more steps back, just in case the clearly confused man was not going to listen to reason. "That's quite enough of this foolishness."

The Doctor gave a long-suffering sigh. "I wish I could remember, but... Do refresh my memory. Have you always been so fond of playing hard to get?"

"Hard to get?" The Brigadier drew himself to his full height, which was not much less than the Doctor's. "Hard to get?" Outrage made his voice quake slightly. "I assure you, Doctor, had you ever attempted such a thing before, I would most certainly have been quite impossible to get."

That caught the Doctor's attention. "Had I attempted? What do you mean - had I?"

Dark eyes narrowed and moustache damn near quivering with outrage, the Brigadier stared at him.

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck nervously, looking more than a little confused. "Do you mean to tell me that you and I... we have not... Never?"

"Certainly not!" the Brigadier declared, uncharacteristically flustered. He failed to hear the Doctor's next words while he muttered, "Good heavens, have your seen your previous self?" Then. "What did you say?"

"I said," repeated the Doctor. "That I rather had the impression you were as eager to get me alone as I was to..."

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" the Brigadier exclaimed.

"Oh, don't you?" The Doctor grinned. "You invited me to stay with you, remember?"

"Of course I remember." The Brigadier huffed. "You haven't anywhere else to stay, Doctor. You can hardly attribute simple hospitality to some..." He rocked back and forth on his heels while steadying himself with one hand on the sideboard. "Well, to some impure intention on my behalf."

The Doctor laughed out loud. "Oh, can't I?"

The Brigadier gave him a suspicious look. "I'd like to see you try," he challenged unwisely.

"Well, foggy memory or not, Alas... Lethbridge-Stewart, I do remember quite clearly that there are permanent accommodations provided for my use right inside UNIT headquarters. You needed only to send me off there."

The Brigadier paled, feeling quite like his fine Turkish carpet was sliding away from under him. "Ah. I..."

"Had forgotten?" the Doctor offered helpfully.

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean... well, we still can't be entirely sure of your identity, can we?" This explanation would satisfy neither of them, and the Brigadier knew it. He gave a sigh, lowered his head, and hoped the Doctor would believe the less incriminating explanation. "Well, yes, I appear to have forgotten."

"And yet it was you who assigned those quarters to me in the first place," came the Doctor's voice from quite close by.

The Brigadier looked up, and was caught in a twinkling blue gaze. "You can't tell me that all this came about simply because you considered yourself, well... encouraged."

"Not at all. But it helped convince me that my memory wasn't playing tricks with me."

"Oh, but it was." The Brigadier cleared his throat. "Well, that's all cleared up then." He made to retrieve his smouldering cigar, but the Doctor's hand covered his own atop the sideboard.

"All cleared up?" the Doctor asked, sounding surprised. "Now really, my good man. There is still that matter of the encouragement. Not to mention the fact that whatever my predecessor might have intended towards you..."

"Intended? So your other self... he really..."

"Fancied you? Oh yes, most certainly."

"Never mind. I don't need to know." Lethbridge-Stewart cringed. He had not yet withdrawn his hand from underneath the time lord's.

The Doctor chuckled, and his hand squeezed the one in his grasp gently. "No, I don't blame you, really. But do let me finish." He slid his hand up to the Brigadier's wrist, his fingers stroking along the spaces between the Brigadier's own on the way. "Speaking purely for myself - this self, mind you - I have to say that my initial pleasure at seeing you again is surpassed only by my utter delight each time you enter a room once more."

The Brigadier looked decidedly flustered, either due to the Doctor's words or that hand's continued voyage up his forearm. He was also, quite uncharacteristically, speechless and motionless.

"My dear Alastair, if I truly have never told you how utterly sensuous that affected little one-sided sneer of yours is, I have been most remiss. And those eyes... goodness gracious!"

"Doctor." The Brigadier swallowed convulsively, the Doctor's darkening eyes following the movement of his throat as though studying an interesting specimen in his lab.

"Well, this may seem like old times, my dear," the time lord whispered, his free arm winding itself slowly around the other man's waist once more. "But as it is not, I suggest we begin with an entirely clean slate."

"A clean..."

"Yes," the Doctor interrupted huskily. "What do you say?"

The Brigadier blinked, and there was no denying that his eyes were even darker and his breathing rather quicker than usual. "As I appear to have manoeuvred myself into a corner..." He performed the sneer, quite intentionally this time, rather delighted that the effect on the Doctor was undeniable. "It would be the sporting thing to do."

The Doctor smirked, and when he leaned in this time, he kissed his host in such a way that either man could be forgiven for losing his faculties.

When the Brigadier's hands finally crushed soft velvet in their grasp, drawing the Doctor hard against himself to better be able to make their battle of lips and tongues an even fight, the Doctor used his last coherent thought to congratulate himself on his bad memory and good luck.