"This cupboard looks strong, help me move stuff out of it!" Rose yelled, desperate to grab onto any hope in order to survive the unsurvivable, to survive what he'd figured he'd only survive through yet another regeneration if at all.

What Rose was planning wouldn't work however unless...

The missile hit 10 Downing Street, and about the only part of the building that survived except for fragments of the outside walls was the cupboard which was strangely intact. It would seem that he had, or would've had, or would do what he thought he might've done, might have had to do, might do. Tenses were always so complicated when dealing with time travel.

With a wheezing groan that he'd never gotten sorted out like the exterior of the TARDIS which had grown on him, the TARDIS landed outside of 10 Downing Street at a time when certain renovations were being made. Grabbing some tools and some materials that weren't available on the planet Earth at this point in time, the Doctor headed inside and did his best to mingle with the work crew.

"What are you doing here?" one of the workmen who had installed the steel reinforcements on the windows and door of a certain office in 1991 - which was now - asked.

"I was ordered to work on that cupboard." he replied, pointing to the largish cupboard that was more of a supply closet in which he, Rose, and Harriet Jones had ridden out the destruction of the building.

The man looked at him suspiciously and tensed up in a manner that amongst humans was a signal of preparedness for aggressive action.

"Who by?" the man asked.

"It's a UNIT matter, and on a need to know basis. Call them and mention The Doctor and they'll back me up." he replied, giving the excuse that had allowed him to get away with a great number of outrageous actions without question in the past. Not all of what he'd done and had others do had been necessary for the survival of the human race, but they didn't know that, and what they didn't know couldn't hurt them in regards to those instances. Especially since a number of them would be dead of old age when certain videos found their way onto Youtube.

As the workman turned to do as he asked, he got to work on the cupboard. Considering the fact that he was using a material that would pretty much just need to be sprayed on and allowed to dry, he was nearly finished by the time the Brigadier's replacement - or was it his replacement's replacement by now? - turned up.

"Doctor?" the man asked, studying him intently as if searching for something familiar in his new features.

"Yes, it's me. Long story, but when isn't it?" he replied, checking to make sure the substance he'd used to reinforce the cupboard had been properly set seeing as his, Rose's, and the future Prime Minister's survival depended on it.

"What are you doing?" the man asked.

"Reinforcing the cupboard. Done now." he replied, deciding to leave before he was dragged off for interrogation over a cup of tea.

"What are you reinforcing the cupboard for?" the man asked.

"So it can withstand a missile strike." he replied.

"A missile strike? What for?" the man asked.

"No specific reason." he replied. "I can tell you for a fact that I won't be firing any missiles at Downing Street anytime in the next decade. Well, technically, I won't be firing any at all. But, don't expect any missiles at Downing Street anytime this decade."

"Well, that was oddly specific." the current head of the British forces attached to UNIT said as he watched the Doctor depart.