The small man sits in a quiet corner of the 'Round, a puzzled look on his face as he sips his Scotch. Deep in his own confusion, he doesn't notice when the teenage girl sits down opposite him. "Wotcha, Professor. Everything ok?" He looks up, relieved to see a familiar face. "Soph... Oh, no. You must be Ace, right?" "Yeah. Course I am, Professor. You know that." "Sorry, Ace. I'm not your Professor. My name's Sylvester McCoy." She nearly chokes on her drink. "What are YOU doing here? This place is for characters, not actors." "I got this phone call..."