The three male Time Lords hefted their acquisitions back to the TARDIS after a rather fun, yes, very nice day of scavenging on Sur’Kesh. He highly doubted the boys had ever been to the sunset-washed planet, and was a quivering mass of excitement to act as ambassador to the Salarians, who were a fascinating race—slightly squishy as a rule (they were of amphibious descent and sort of… frog-like after all), though there were exceptions, but massively intelligent, and technologically superior to nearly all in the Mutter’s Spiral. Sur’Kesh was an ideal stop for usable parts as Salarians tended toward avarice. Getting one to part with what you needed was all about having the right leverage, be it money, technology, or information. It had been a long time since he’d had – if he’d ever had – competent company on these expeditions, and it was uniquely satisfying. It was as though he’d taught them himself. Which… he supposed he had. He didn’t quite know what to make of it. They knew what he was looking at without needing an explanation, spotted things he’d missed, and were genuinely glad to be in his company. The feeling was mutual. He revelled in their awe, and got to teach on a level that he hadn’t since Susan, or Romana travelled with him.
Selene, however, hadn’t made an appearance in three days. They’d been with him for nearly two weeks, and she’d been hiding in her ship since their last conversation – or, well, row – obviously avoiding the repercussions of her evasions. He would not admit she’d bested him with her little game, no. Cheated, perhaps, but not bested. She had nowhere to go, after all. She was the idiot who trapped herself. He was getting fed up with her avoidance, but had no way to get to her. The young TARDIS remained resolutely locked, and he didn’t have a key, did he?
The brothers flushed and blustered in embarrassment, but adamantly refused to go against their sister’s wishes and permit him entrance until she was ready. No amount of hinting, cajoling, anger, or guilt-tripping could sway them. Torin finally admitted their sister had threatened to mentally shut them out if they disobeyed, and that was worse than any bollocking he could level at them. After such an admission, instead of alienating the two he had as his allies, the Doctor decided to make the effort to befriend the two boys, and sweat out the frigidity of the third in their trio. Fortunately, the former part of the endeavour was not a chore in the least.
In reaction, he was currently ruminating on cutting off her supply line, or at least place an embargo on the movement of such cargo from one ship to another without her direct intervention. She would have to emerge if she no longer had the steady stream of parts and sustenance – those he was providing, no less – and the boys were no longer allowed to act as her blockade runners. He wouldn’t continue to be stymied for long, and if she insisted upon fighting dirty, he could play the game with a skill to which she could only distantly aspire. He wasn’t quite sure what he could get away with without driving Torin and Lios away, which he certainly didn’t want, however much anger he harboured or wanted to confront the girl.
To his further dismay and frustration, they had, despite the ban of all things Doctor-shaped, let Jack come and go as he pleased. Said captain was currently holed up inside the young ship, doing Omega knew what. He hoped—fervently prayed to any and every imaginary deity he’d ever come across in his travels—she wasn’t doing or saying anything stupid to damage timelines.
Lios assured him she was never careless, but the idea that secrets of a sensitive and pertinent nature were being kept from him—aboard his own damned ship, no less—burned him up inside. He’d presented her the opportunity to talk openly, without judgement or malice, and she’d evaded, and all but spat in his face. She lied. She manipulated. He gave her a glimpse of his unending pain, and she used it against him to keep him from the truth.
But bloody Harkness? No issues there! A few days and some innuendo, and he was in like Flynn.
Galling. Utterly rude and offensive.
Who had taken them in and offered not only the universe, but unconditional assistance? Who had shared personal – usually closely guarded – feelings of an agonising nature to relate to her mysterious plight? Who had made it at all possible for these little clandestine meetings with the Torchwood director? Not the one in the little ship keeping things on the low down—or down low—er—underground? Or was it the flip side? Didn’t matter. It wasn’t Jack. Jack merely reaped the benefits of a trust he should’ve been afforded.
When he’d cornered Jack in the TARDIS galley, the former Time Agent grew uncharacteristically serious, and insisted that he back off. “It’s not the right time, Doc. You of all people should understand these things,” he’d told him.
“Frankly, Jack, I’m surprised at where your loyalties lie,” the Doctor spat, earning him little more than a wounded look, and guilt. It did not stop him from berating his friend, venting all the hurt the situation had inflicted in a direction it probably definitely should not have been focused, until the captain finished his meal and walked out without another word.
Jack had gone back to her then, and remained sequestered there since. The Doctor didn’t know whether to enjoy the relief of not having the Captain’s wrongness bothering him, or berate himself for hurting his friend. He didn’t have many of them left, after all.
Even so, despite his many irritations and aggravations of late, he’d enjoyed this day. The company was brilliant – quite literally – and they delighted in their task, asking their questions and getting some answers—no, that was The Little Mermaid… but they did – ask that is, and get answers, so it worked… He was glad he hadn’t said that aloud.
They still needed a Furidurb Graviometric Bypass, like the one he had fought the Alpha for upon their first meeting, and a few more rare bobs, but with this haul, they were near sorted. It would then be a matter of installation and elbow grease before their ship came back fully online. He anxiously hoped they would want to remain a while afterward. It would be a shame if they left after so short a time, and the thought made his hearts clench with loss, and premature grief. He was so alone… Did they understand how desperately lonely he’d been? He’d have to insist upon regular visits with the boys if he couldn’t get the troublesome girl to agree to stay on. He wasn’t ready for a goodbye… maybe ever. Something would have to be done.
“Tea?” Lios asked as they re-entered the Doctor’s TARDIS. The young man still wasn’t chatty, but he was much warmer than the Doctor had credited him with initially.
The Doctor gave a faint nod as he picked through the pile of pieces requiring organisation.
Torin lingered with him in the console room while Lios left for the galley, hovering a few steps behind and pulling nervously at his locks.
With a furtive glance in the direction of his retreating sibling, and another at the ship pretending to be a tree, he sidled in next to the Doctor at the console.
“Think… er… maybe we could… go on a trip that wasn’t…you know, strictly business?” he posed as casually as the anxious bouncing on his heels would allow. “Just for laughs? You know, something we could do to relax, and maybe have a bit of fun. Not that today wasn’t enjoyable! It was! I had loads of fun, and you’re brilliant, and we can’t thank you enough! I just…” He scraped the toe of his boot back and forth lightly on the floor and swallowed.
The Doctor hardly needed him to finish, his own excitement at the notion already threatening to become conqueror of his face, but wanted to let the young man vent all the same. With a temperament such as his, Torin could not have found it easy to be tied to one spot for long, nor, for want of a better description, lackey to a sibling who seemingly thrived on conflict. Torin was designed for adventure. Torin was meant to explore.
“I’m a bit sick of markets, to be honest,” Torin continued guiltily, words gushing forth in a tumble of loquacious babble. “Been looking at them for the last six and a half months, and I want to look at something else, even if it’s a planet made entirely of Marmite – though I’d rather not, you know, go to a place that’s made of Marmite. The smell would be awful! Only, I feel like I’m going a bit batty with all the seriousness and tension all the time. I mean, it’s fine. It is what it is, but it doesn’t have to be all the time, does it? I mean, we’re here, you’re here, the TARDIS is here, and everything—literally—is out there, and we’re just going to markets. Still. Still going to markets. Six months on a Market world, and we’re still going to markets. Market after market. Not that the Salarians weren’t interesting! And I’m sure there was a lot more to their world than… I mean—well? What do you think? Could we?”
A slow, knowing smile spread over the Doctor’s face as he let the silence pleasantly increase the anticipation.
“It’s fine,” Torin continued after he could bear it no longer, “we have a task, and it’s important, I understand. I just thought—I mean, well, you’re just, you know, you, so you might’ve—but it’s alright. It’s not import—”
“Torin Tyler!” The Doctor interrupted when the disappointment on Torin’s face became too much. “Not only do you have a fantastic name that rolls right off the tongue, but you are brilliant!” And he was. The Doctor could never object to a bit of fun. “Do you have a destination in mind, or shall I set the randomiser?”
“Randomiser.” The young man’s grin of relief and joy lit the room with an almost palpable energy, and he was positively vibrating with excitement where he stood. “Definitely.”
“Want to set it yourself?” The Doctor offered, only vaguely aware of how profoundly moving Torin would find the proposal.
The smile slid off his face and his eyes went round as saucers. “You’re having a laugh.”
“Nah, go on.” The older man motioned toward the controls. “It’s not every day I offer to let anyone else pilot my Sexy.”
Torin cackled like a loon, flew on winged feet to the console, and threw a few levers while running around like a madman. He was flying the TARDIS! Not his sister. Not some story or memory his father related that he lingered in to grasp at the fleeting exhilaration of legend. This was the actual TARDIS, and he was her actual, if temporary, pilot. He made sure to sear the memory into his mind in the event he never had another chance, but not before he looked up at the old man who watched him like a hungry bear. He had the urge to say something—anything—but words were hardly enough, and the wheezing groan of engines, and forgotten parking brakes, soon drowned out whatever he couldn’t vocalize.
Indeed, the TARDIS was off, but not before hurling them to the ground, resulting in bruises and gales of laughter. They landed moments later with much wheeze and thud, and the young man shot up and was at the doors in half a second.
“Oi! Forgetting someone?” The Doctor laughed. “Off you trot. There are three others here who might enjoy a bit of something different. Go and round them up while I check on where and when we are.”
“Weeell,” he hesitated and smoothed his hair on the sides, all traces of excitement gone, and awkwardness left in its wake, “actually, I was hoping we could just… maybe… leave the Alpha out of it.”
The Doctor couldn’t stifle the snort which arose.
“I’m a terrible brother,” he blustered, not meeting the Doctor’s eye, “I know, but she’ll only call me a prat, and tell me to stop mucking about. She’ll go on and on about wasting time, and say you’re – well, never mind what she’ll say, only, it won’t be kind to either of us. Also, I might get something chucked at me. She never misses either. And, she won’t leave anyway. Believe me, it’s better just to leave her where she is. She’s well happy, and never has to know we were gone!” Torin felt disloyal, but sometimes Selene was entirely too much for him and his breezy nature, and more especially in this new regeneration of hers. It was a relief to have willing ears bent to his venting that would not tell him to let it go, or that it was all for the best.
“And your brother?”
“Oh, forget it. He’ll go and tell her for sure. He’s always a git like that.”
“I’m always a git like what?” Lios asked from the corridor, holding three mugs of tea, and frowning at the conspirators.
“Did I say git? I meant—oh, no, I meant git. You’re a git.”
“What are you on about?”
“You tattle everything to the Alpha. You’re. A. Gi-t.”
His brother’s blond brows contracted, and his eyes looked more worried than suspicious. “What’ve you done then?” he posed accusingly.
“We’ve landed somewhere, well, not strictly on the itinerary. For fun,” the Doctor interceded. “It’s good to have fun, Lios Tyler. You lot should do more often. Far too serious, all of you. I’m convinced we don’t share TNA,” he jabbed good-naturedly. Torin shot him a smile from behind Lios, and a discrete thumbs up. “And, oh, I’ve just remembered this is a time machine, so we can have a bit, and still do whatever it is that your sister is keeping from me without losing a second, technically speaking.” He clapped his hands together and pointed them both at the exit. “Right. Come along then, Tylers. Mystery place outside! Open the doors, Torin!”
Before Lios could interject another word, Torin and the Doctor were outside, and he was left holding the tea, stunned and gaping. He hesitated, thinking he should at least let the Alpha know they were going out, but decided he was better off keeping those two in line as well as he could. Who knew what they’d get up to, she’d only shout about wasting time, and they already had the jump on him.
He quickly set the cups of tea on the console, and hurried after the others, without glancing at the message flashing on the monitor.
Inside the baby timeship – still pretending to be a tree as she didn’t yet have enough power reserves to re-disguise herself – a young woman was reviewing a long agonised-over scheme. She had finally solidified it into a workable plan with the help of an immortal being. This immortal just so happened to be a fixed point in time, which, though uncomfortable and strange, had been the boon she’d never expected in all her calculating, and, even better, had proven himself to be every bit the man and friend her mum had claimed. It was a blessed relief too, having someone older, and far wiser in whom to confide.
When he’d first come aboard, she didn’t know how to approach him about… their request. It wasn’t every day you asked a man to die to further your cause, even if said death wouldn’t stick.
He’d been confused, but then the torrent of babble, she’d heretofore associated with her brother, broke the levy within her, and she couldn’t stem the tide until Captain Jack was staring at her, gobsmacked and perplexed, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open.
Jack himself was as loath to trust her initially as the Doctor seemed, but he quickly found himself embroiled in her tale, and her exterior bravado ceased to hide the scared child he saw beneath. In her, he saw his Rosie. In her, he saw his Doctor. He couldn’t help his fascination with the three of them, or the story they told. Knowing his future, and parts of his past, were inexorably tied with their beginnings was riveting.
She’d unburdened completely, and it was a long overdue comfort. Best of all, he didn’t judge, or at the very least, if he did, he did not make it evident. This afforded her the freedom, in more private moments, to admit she was struggling, and that she had made mistakes she desperately wished to take back. He’d readily agreed to assist, and Selene found herself trusting him far more quickly than she’d ever done with anyone who wasn’t family. The truth was, she needed him as a confidante every bit as much as they needed his help in her plan. He had no claim on her, except the ties of an old friendship with her parents, and he didn’t need her protection. He could be a sounding board, and he was far cleverer than the average human. He was peace in her constant chaos, and she found herself lamenting his absence whenever he went into the larger timeship.
She figured the Doctor would be cross with her, but after regaling Jack, she just wasn’t up to a repeat performance, and she still didn’t fully trust the old man. He could be mercurial at the best of times, she was fully aware, and if he decided to kick them all out, they were completely buggered. Jack was an acceptable risk. The Doctor was not. Jack readily agreed to memory modification – and, as little as she liked to think of it, could be coerced if it became necessary. The Doctor could not. Jack had a life to which he would return and resume after. The Doctor… did not.
As much as the old man would fume, the Doctor was out, and staying out.
At least, that was what she told herself every time Lios nagged at her to keep her word to him and fill Himself in.
“Selene, sweetheart,” Jack interrupted, “you’re gonna give yourself a nosebleed. If I’ve learned anything in my years, it’s that plans can only take you so far. Too many unexpected variables inevitably come up, and you always end up flying by the seat of your pants in the end,” he told her sagely as he reclined against her console. “Just look at the Doc. It’s practically his life’s story.”
She snorted, dropping the wires she’d been twisting absently. “Yeah, well tha’s the point, innit? Don’t want it to be like tha’. Too much at stake.”
He sighed. He wasn’t going to get through to her. She just hadn’t lived and seen enough to understand. Yet. And he was going to make damn sure Rosie’s daughter could do just that. Live. She was… something different. Something reminiscent of a road not travelled, a life not lived. He couldn’t put a finger on what it was about her, but every time she laughed or smiled, the room got a little brighter. It was a bit like being with Rose and the Doctor, all those years before. He brought her something valuable. He felt it, like a slot in which he fit so well, it had practically been carved just for him. And… she was certain he was a good man, even if he didn’t believe it himself. It made him want to live up to it.
“Let me see the markings again.”
She gave a stiff nod before shrugging off her coat. She was wearing only a vest top underneath, rather than her accustomed oversize jumper – a luxury only afforded when she was alone, or in the very short list of those she trusted implicitly. Swirling, golden symbols were clearly visible trailing from her wrists to her neck. She’d let him look at nearly all of them, but only grudgingly as they covered her, ankles to neck, and she’d spent most of her life hiding them. Gallifreyan, Selene had said, of an ancient variety, and especially hard to decipher. He couldn’t read any of it, of course. To him, it was, and would always be, just a lot of pretty circles he’d first mistaken for intricate tattoos. But, under her guidance, he had made a detailed map of it all on paper, so they could be properly examined, and re-translated – again.
She had done the same with her brothers and Mum many times, but it never hurt to have another opinion when it came to cryptic prophesies. Cryptic meaning practically inexplicable, and inexplicable meaning essentially nonsense, and she knew Jack couldn’t actually read any of it, but perhaps he could identify bits they’d missed, and it would alter her own interpretations. Even when she thought she had a grasp on what it said, it all made little sense in any applicable way. She and her brothers had all come to different conclusions many times over, and had she not the insight… ish… from the Schism, she might be tempted to write them all off as only a freakish side effect of the experience. Though she might never have concrete answers, she trusted her own instincts in the matter. They were the key somehow—or rather, the lock… to something important. She believed Torin and Lios were the actual keys. What she wanted was to find a way to access… whatever it was… without her brothers.
“This…” Jack shook his head. “You’re sure you don’t want to at least let the Doctor see the ones on your arms? Might be nice if you didn’t have to skulk around so much.”
“Jack…” she huffed and ran a hand through her dishevelled hair, “you know, well as I do, tha’ tha’d be stupid. How do you think he’d like knowin’ wha’ I was plannin’? Reckon he’d still be helpin’, or tha’ he’d jus’ chuck me right out? Let him chuck me out after my girl is fixed. Back to the Time Lock. You’re sure you can breach it?”
“Yes, Selene. I’ll die once or twice, but I’ll be able to get you your pinhole. The equations are sound.”
She winced. She hated the idea that any little flaw in her maths might do him lasting damage. “Lemme see your vortex manipulator again.”
“It’s fine, doll. You’ve amped and re-calibrated it six times now. Dying a couple more times isn’t going to kill me.” He looked at her hopefully, but she only winced guiltily once more at the tasteless joke.
“An’ you remember wha’ I showed you?” Her eyes were imploring, speaking silent volumes about her mental state. Obsessing was how she managed her anxieties without falling apart. One couldn’t fall apart if one always knew what to do. “How to forget after? Wanna practice again? You’re really not a bad telepath, you know? Probably be pretty strong in future, if you keep practicin’.”
“Oh-ho! Was that an actual compliment? I must be wearing you down. I’ve even got some of your clothes off.”
“Shut up an’ concentrate.”
“Selene, you need to lighten up,” Jack pushed. He understood the behaviour, and wished he could do more than reassure her she was not alone. “You know what we need? A night out. You need to blow off steam. I’ve never met anyone so serious in my life, and that, my dear, is saying something.” He got up and moved next to her near the mass of ship hanging into the middle of the room. She continued to frown at the apparently perplexing wires in her hands rather than look at him. “I’m sorry,” he continued, “but you’ve got a major stick up your ass. You know you’ve got heavy stuff ahead, and God knows you’ve got heavy stuff behind. You have to live now and enjoy the moments you can.”
He closed both the physical and metaphorical distance, pulled her into his chest, and wrapped his arms around her. She melted into him with an involuntary groan, tightly locking her own uncharacteristically bare arms around him, and burying her nose in the neck of his light blue Oxford. He smelled like human, wool, comfort and eternity. She took in a slow breath before pulling away and sitting up, all business once again.
“We should jus’ practice. Time won’ wait, no matter how much we can mess with it,” Selene informed him. “Can’t avoid the inevi’able, Jack. It catches up… Also… I’m not askin’ Himself for anythin’,” she added firmly, jaws clenched, eyes hard.
He gave her an exasperated look.
“Jack, drop it. I know I haven’t been the fairest dealin’ with him, I do,” she admitted reluctantly, “but I dunno. I jus’ can’t. Not now. Maybe, not ever.”
“It’s not just unfair to him.”
“Wha’re you on about then?”
“I think you know exactly what I’m saying.”
“Wha’? Torin an’ Li—”
“—they’re well happy. Thick as thieves with the idiot, aren’t they? I’m not interfearin’ with it!”
“No. Don’t even start. Why would I want his help, or his—his anythin’? For me, the Doctor was my dad, an’ then my dad was—is— dead, an’… Jack, I asked him to take us… he had a bad heart. I knew tha’, an’ I asked him to… But one heart, tha’s on him too, innit. He made him possible. He botched a regeneration, swanned off thinkin’ he was clever for keepin’ his face, an’ left the charged-up piece of his TNA alone, in the bloody open, with Donna, a simple human, in a major crisis, ‘cos wha’ could possibly go wrong there? Then, he didn’t make sure the resulting person created in the mess he made was physically sound, then bloody left him to rot in another universe, Jack. My dad, Jack. He abandoned my dad.”
Frustration slowly increased the pitch of her low, gravelly voice. Were the Doctor to hear it, he’d swear Jackie Tyler had possessed her granddaughter to haunt him from across the years and the void between their worlds.
“He left my mum too, Jack. Abandoned her as well! To pick up the pieces of all the lives he mucked with. An’ then my mum was sad for years— so many years— an’ by sad I mean, broken. Broken, an’ he should’ve known it, Jack! He should’ve known my mum wasn’t the same anymore, but my dad said he never even bloody checked! He never once checked!”
She viciously grabbed a piece of discarded machinery off the grating next to her and hurled it at the grey, coral wall.
“He got distracted by regeneratin’, then by a stupid invasion, then by my bloody mum! Completely thick! An’ still, he had another linear year to get curious, but did he? Oh, no! Some supposedly simple human takes in the whole bleedin’ heart of the TARDIS, travels five billion years into her future, wipes out a horde of Daleks, an’ lives to tell the tale, when it killed him in two point seven seconds, but he can’t be bloody bothered to maybe see if it did some bloody damage to the bloody human, can he? No! He’s the bloody Doctor, an’ he ‘fixed it’ with a kiss an’ a pun!”
“Then there’s me an’ my family, an’ how much is on us, ‘cos, dammit, he never checked! He’s like this mythical figure my life’s meant to revolve ’round, an’ it drives me mental when I look at him! I get— I get irrationally angry! I mean, I— someone— people might die makin’ all this work, an’ tha’ prat will still be faffing about, probably with my brothers in tow, long after it’s over an’ I’ve got nothin’ left! He met ‘em a fortnight ago an he’s actin’ like…” She kicked another piece of junk near her foot, ignoring the stabbing pain that shot through her bootless toes. “How is any of it fair?”
Jack allowed the moments to pass while she calmed. He understood being angry at the Doctor’s choices. The very same incidence, affecting her so fundamentally, was responsible for his inability to die, and therefore influenced every relationship and connection he made with other humans. He’d also been cruelly abandoned to an uncertain future, with no answers, or help from the one person who might have made all the difference. He too had been bitter and angry for a long time. He didn’t believe she was wrong for her anger, only that she was drinking the poison created by said anger, rather than attempting to grow or heal. She was still very young, he supposed, even if she was over a century in age.
“Tell me the name you chose,” he bid after she seemed to recover a bit.
“Jack…” She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.
“No,” he stated more firmly, grabbing her hand and entwining their fingers. “Tell me the name you chose.”
She rolled her eyes, and gave him a look like he’d dribbled on his shirt. “The Alpha.”
“Are we really doin’ this?”
“Tell me why, Selene.”
“‘Cos, it’s all up to me, innit?”
“No,” he insisted with an equally annoyed look which expressed she was missing the point entirely. “Tell me why you didn’t sit back like a good little Time Lady, and call yourself Time Lady Selene.”
“‘Cos, I didn’t want to.”
“Exactly, Selene, exactly. You always have a choice. You chose to be a leader, and to embrace the possibility of changing the universe, and saving billions. You chose the harder path; the Doctor didn’t choose it for you. He’s got no idea you’re going through any of this. But what he thinks, and does, and believes has nothing to do with the choice you made.” He pulled her into his arms once again and leaned them back against the lower part of the console, stroking her hair, and placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. “You could leave all this behind, right now. All this responsibility, all this worry and uncertainty could be forgotten, but you don’t because you’d rather make your stand. You’re so much like your mother that it makes me want to cry, and she would be so, so proud of you.”
The girl looked close to tears, but swallowed them back. “Hypervodka, then?”
“That’s the best thing you’ve said in days. And I’ll do you a favour, I’ll ask the Doctor.”
“Cheers, Jack,” she beamed.
“You cover up, and I’ll go talk to the big man.”
They disentangled themselves from each other, and stood to go about their tasks. He strode out into the larger console room to find it empty. Three mugs of cold tea were sitting on the control panel.
“Doc?” he called.
He checked the galley and a few other common rooms, before returning to find the Alpha in full armour, and looking at him expectantly.
“Have we landed then? Or have we not left yet?”
“You know, I really have no clue. I can’t find anyone. We’re… alone.” He waggled his brows at her.
She rolled her eyes and punched him playfully in the gut. “We’re alone all the time, Dum-dum. An’ you could never handle a woman like me. Not in a million years.” Her words were light, but her insecurity was clear. She believed herself broken, and more of a headache than she was worth. And probably doomed.
“Wouldn’t stop me trying, I probably have that long.”
“Well, we’ll never know, will we?” she retorted primly.
He shot her a wounded look. “I offered to die for you a few times, and this… is the thanks I get.”
“Shut up, randy git, I completely love you, an’ you bloody well know it.”
“So, where do you think they disappeared to?”
“Let’s check, shall we?” She strode to the console monitor and typed in her query. She felt an impatient wave from the TARDIS, then control was taken away from her. Gallifreyan began scrolling along the screen as fast as she could read— which was faster than Harkness could track at all. To him it was a scrolling blur. “Oh, bloody hell. Prats. Bugger. Bugger, bugger, bugger. They never… Of course, they did. Jack, you up for a bit of a rescue mission?”
“Good. Those idiots’ve landed us on Olympia.”
“That’s bad?” He cocked his head. He was actually rather excited by the prospect of visiting a planet of other immortals, who, truth be told, were rumoured to party like no others in the universe. He’d gotten drunk once on a smuggled bottle of Ambrosia, and the experience had been unforgettable. This was exactly the type of trip he’d had in mind when he asked to come along.
“It is, if you’re a Time Lord,” she grimaced.