A MIDSUMMER'S NIGHT DREAM

Ten years ago, Torchwood ceased to be... as we knew it.

In 2005 Canary Wharf fell to the still very classified incident involving the Daleks and Cybermen, a incident that we were only saved through the heroics of a few that were not even part of Torchwood itself but were there to clean up the mess made by the Director of the time, Yvonne Hartmann.

In the meantime, Torchwood was left to operate, in a reduced and stop-gap manner, through the near independent operation of its individual cells which are still scattered around the remaining British Empire, some still in the United Kingdom, others in other parts of the world. For awhile, this was all right. We worked for years like this.

Until 2009 when the 456 incident proved to us that we needed a more permanent, and more unified, structure. We needed a new Torchwood One.

Undisclosed location
February 2nd, 2010

The boardroom was one of those old style boardrooms, only much larger. The ones made as part of an even older library and study, complete with a huge hand carved fireplace and mantle. A portrait of the current Queen of England, Queen Elizabeth II, and of what remained of a large empire. Much of it still remained, even if most of those were now mostly self-governed, they were still beholden to their Queen.

The Commonwealth was still very much alive.

At the head of the table, underneath her own portrait, sat the Queen herself. Such was the nature of the meeting, and such was the secrecy, that it was necessary. The Prime Minister was there as well, not only of Britain but also of Canada as well as over fifty other nations. Every single last Prime Minister or other nominal head of state was in the room as well as a Director of Torchwood for each member country.

The only Director missing was from Canada, and the Queen looked at Canada's Prime Minister once again. "I swear he will be here, Mum."

"Is he ordinarily late?" asked the Queen.

"No, your Majesty," answered the Canadian Prime Minister. "I've only known him to be late once and it was that unfortunate affair a few years ago with the planets in the sky."

"Let us hope that the reason this time is not so dire," pointed out the Queen, choosing to be amused by the man's lateness, and there was corresponding chuckles from around the room.

Just then the doors opened and a man bowed as he was announced as Director Claude Vaillieux of Torchwood Four in Toronto before taking his place behind the Canadian Prime Minister. "Forgive me your Majesty, I was detained at Heathrow."

"I was just being told you are very rarely late," said the Queen. "I do hope the circumstances are not the same as the last time?"

"By far not, Majesty, simple inconvenience. All taken care of," he answered with a smile.

It was at this meeting that Director Vaillieux became the new Director of Torchwood, and Toronto was re-designated as TW-1, our new headquarters. He wasted no time in advising the Queen that the resolution which had brought our organization into being was outdated... outmoded... and required updating. He asked for one allowance only.

To cease hostilities towards the man known only as the Doctor of the TARDIS, whom they now knew in this modern age as an alien being, a remarkable man with the capability to not only traverse space but also time itself. The Doctor, in these times, had proven himself over and over to not be our enemy but our greatest ally. There were more than a few documented instances where the Doctor had saved the Commonwealth, and Earth itself, at great risk to his own life and safety, but yet this outdated resolution would reward that selflessness with censure... or worse.

During Canary Wharf, it almost had. Director Vaillieux implored the Queen to at least consider a resolution that would change this.

She agreed - and Torchwood was reborn into something new.

- From the personal, if still classified, diary of Gwen Cooper
Torchwood Three, Cardiff, Wales

The city was easily categorized as the metropolis kind. It held a population well into the millions and its sprawl had swallowed into the urban centre the surrounding smaller cities and threatened others. It held the north shore of Lake Ontario uncontested.

It was not this that made it instantly recognizable by anyone anywhere around the world, no, it was the lonely spire which shot up above the skyscrapers surrounding it, and it still held the record for the tallest free standing structure in the entire city, and likely still the world.

In a city of monuments, the CN tower of Toronto was recognizable like the Statue of Liberty and the Eiffel Tower, but dwarfed both.

Its growth had, as it continued to grow, slowly gobbled up its surrounding sisters until there was little to no space between it and the others. Eventually, it swallowed them up in name as well and became the Greater Toronto Area, or GTA, with the heart still known as Toronto.

Much of the old part of Toronto was now gone. Buried beneath the new developments of condos and office towers. But there was still a few places where the history of the city still lived. A haunted house, turned into a museum, that had existed in the same place since perhaps the city had been founded on a little known one way street just behind the Eaton centre was one such place.

Here and there there were other places still clinging to its history.

Union Station was another place, but one that had seen numerous updates behind the scenes while the actual place still held its original purpose... and design.

A woman wove her way through the teeming crowd, talking on a cell phone. While Toronto was a very metropolitan place full of numerous different cultures and people from different places, her accent was still very much out of place amidst the typical accent of Central Eastern Ontario, which, to Canadians, wasn't much of an accent at all.

Which was why the ginger haired woman stuck out beyond that of being a redhead, which was rare enough. The tone with which she spoke was of a professional speaking to another professional. No words wasted beyond the bare necessities of courtesy, just enough to get the point across. The middle aged woman continued to weave her way through the crowd as if used to larger, more intense crowding. Union Station was the Canadian equivalent of King's Cross, but it was still not quite as busy. Not by much, but still, Donna Noble was used to it.

As Donna waited for the subway, she snapped her cell phone closed and slid it into an interior pocket in her suit blazer and stepped onto the car, quickly finding a seat before someone else did.

ACT ONE

The view from the office tower was spectacular and offered, if one was to walk from side to side of the building or view from the roof, a panoramic view of Toronto and Lake Ontario. It was still dwarfed by the CN Tower, which could be seen in the distance from the windows, standing proudly in the southwest from the office tower.

Not that it could be seen on the interior of the building.

Two guards stood outside of a door in the foyer by the elevator. They looked over when the elevator made a cheerful ding before the doors opened. Two people were escorted by another guard, who held the door as it opened and waited until they got off the elevator before backing back into it and letting the doors slide closed. For a moment, they stood outside as their identification was looked over again, then scanned, as were their eyes and hand prints.

They were allowed past the first door and showed into a reception area, where the scans were double-checked and pass codes recited. The two UNIT people looked from the identification of the woman, to the woman, and back again.

Not because it wasn't checking out, but because it was. Nor was it psychic paper, as the woman was rumoured to often employ if she needed identification for the moment. That meant the identification they were looking at was genuine, and so was the person holding it.

The Doctor had that effect with the newer ones in UNIT and some of the old guard who had never met her. "Is there a problem?" asked Jack.

"No, sir, madam... an honour madam," said the younger one as he snapped off a salute, which the Doctor returned, if not as crisply.

They then looked over Jack's and the Torchwood half was equally as surprised, but held their surprise in far more. In truth, the one was from the old way of doing things and still felt the itchy sensation that whispered to reach for his gun and place the alien woman under arrest. However, his training as well as the overriding evidence plainly showing she was no menace to him or any of them, made him merely look over their identification with crisp, distant, professionalism.

However.

He was still a living man, and she wasn't hard on the eyes. Far from it - and he could freely admit that to himself that being kidnapped by that particular alien wouldn't have been unwelcome if he was ever given the chance. The less professional part of him was rather envious of the infamous former Director of Torchwood Three.

But he was far too professional to do more than throw perhaps more than a few appreciative glances her way.

The older, more professional, of the two UNIT people opened the inner doors and allowed Jack Harkness and the Doctor into the inner room.

The five men looked at each other. If there were any thoughts on the female alien that had just walked past them, they were far too professional to say so or think anything further on it beyond what they already had. It would have been an insult to do more, or less, than the eyebrow lift they had already done. One from Torchwood looked over at UNIT and asked, "That was an alien? Is she hiding her true appearance?"

One of the ones from UNIT who had been around a very long time, in fact all the way back in the day when the Doctor had been a white haired curly, tall, man who liked velvet smoking jackets. He knew the Doctor looked human, as did the others of his race. Or in this case her race. He shook his head. "No, her race looks as we do - they always do - although she would tell you that we look Time Lord, not the other way around."

Jack and the Doctor stepped into the inner room. There was yet another identification check, only this time it wasn't to make sure that they were supposed to be there - that had already been thoroughly checked by not one, but at least a half dozen checkpoints once they even gained access to the building itself. This time it was to place them correctly at the large circular meeting table. The Torchwood aide led them to their places and they sat down, and the screen finally was actually fully visible to human eyes. The Doctor had already been able to read most of what was on the privacy and security-measures laden screen upon just entering the room.

The room was dark except for low lights around the table and the screen itself, and the screens on the the table itself, set into the dark, expensive wood. The Doctor and Jack took a moment to familiarize themselves with the matter as it was being presented and then settled back to listen.

So far, no one was actually talking about the matter at hand. The meeting had not officially even started yet and so all that was available was the unclassified bits. Even still, the Doctor could almost sense where this was all going. There would only be one reason for not only her to be summoned by the new Director of Torchwood Three - Peter Tyler - as well as the extremely rare occurrence of UNIT and Torchwood joining forces. She had almost ignored it, telling Jack, "If they can work together, they will likely not need us... they will have to learn to work together eventually for things to progress naturally to humanity's next historical stage. I can't always be there to hold their hands."

To quote an old cliche... Hell had frozen over.

The next call was from the Queen ordering her guardian of the realm to Toronto, Canada and on what date.

The Doctor found that she could not refuse the Queen.

This couldn't be a good thing. Hell didn't freeze over on good things. She wasn't summoned to a crisis meeting by the Queen over good things.

She was broken out of her thoughts when another inner door opened, off to the side, and a man walked out with his own aide and a few of the higher ranking members of UNIT. The Doctor glanced at him and then out-rightly stared. He also came to a stop, glanced at her and out of the very crowd and dark of the room stared at her as if she, too, was lit by a spotlight.

He excused himself and walked straight over to them. Jack sat up perceptibly at his approach. "You must be the Doctor," he said without preamble. "I've heard so much about you and must say it is an incredible honour to meet you at last."

He held out his hand. "My name is Claude Vaillieux and I am the Director of Torchwood."

The Doctor stood and shook his hand over the table, it wasn't wide enough to make the handshake awkward. "I am honoured to meet you as well," she answered and then, upon grasping his hand she felt a shock of recognition run through her. It was as if she was struck by lightning, only without the damage or the other side issues.

He felt the same, she could tell and for a long moment they stared at each other, still holding the others hand. Claude grinned widely and then shook his head. The head shake was barely perceptible but the Doctor and Jack saw it clearly given how close they were. He then moved her hand to his lips and gave her an older fashioned, gentlemanly, greeting by brushing his lips over her knuckles before releasing her hand. "I see we will have much to talk about, you and I," he said in a low voice, before he turned and walked away to start the meeting.

The Doctor stood there a moment longer, stunned to the point of silence. Jack pulled her back down gently, holding the hand and rubbing the knuckles that had been kissed. He knew something had happened but he wasn't sure of what. "Who is he?" asked Jack in a low voice.

She shook her head. "Later. I'll... I'll tell you later." She took a breath to steady herself.

Donna took a sip of her tea, blowing on it to cool it off as she used her computer to email her mother and grandfather. She was on break and using it well to catch up with life in Chiswick. It seemed so far away now but more natural than actually being there.

It seemed too strange to be natural, but there it was.

Then again, maybe it was... she took a breath and refused to dwell on it. Not at work.

Granddad,

I know you've probably realized it by now but I'm not in Chiswick anymore. I've gone travelling. I couldn't stay there anymore. It just didn't feel right.

I know Mum is probably going postal right now, but tell her I'm all right. I'm in Canada, if you believe that. Toronto, Ontario to be exact. Life here isn't that much different. Oh sure, the place looks different but things aren't. It's a city. They need temps like any other place.

But it's different enough to not remind me of Shaun. I know you and Mum will think that after the accident I'm running away. You may be right but right now I can't bear to walk and see the same streets and know that the drunk that killed him, while not there now, will again be on those streets. Not yet anyway. Maybe some day, but not yet. It's too raw right now. I think you and Mum can understand that even if my method of dealing with it isn't the same.

I just felt caged all of a sudden.

And yes, like I said, I'm temping again but the company I signed up with is bloody global and allows me to travel and not be nailed down in one place. And Canada is nice this time of year. I may go up north to see what's up there, may even temp up there too. Evidently there is a few smaller cities that still use temps. Some of these places only use temps because the site is only there long enough for a temp. Imagine that! Entire towns packed up and gone because the time of year is up or the need isn't there anymore. A town of temps! Sounds like my kind of place. All paid travel and never seeing the same place twice.

Granted, they also tell me these places are like military camps only worse. Guess I could do it once to say I have and then go back to civilization.

Anyway I just wanted to tell you not to worry and, while I like what I'm doing and where I'm going, that I miss you and Mum.

Donna

She looked at the time and hit send. She had enough time left of her break to make another cup of tea and get some biscuits... or cookies... since that's what they were called in Canada. Biscuits, she had been rather surprised to find out (the hard way) were a type of scone that one ate with soup. Or, if not that fancy, were simply a type of cracker. The sweets were referred to as cookies... and Canadians loved their cookies. Donna had gone through so many different types of cookies that her head was practically spinning.

But, like England, Canadians - those of an English background, no matter how far back the generations went since they had left England - still mostly had tea in the afternoon instead of coffee and ate cookies with the tea on an afternoon break. It wasn't the formal affair or even fancy. It just was the way it was.

It wasn't even called a tea break, it was simply a mid-afternoon break, if one had one. Donna had been surprised to note that life here, like London, was just as varied. Toronto was just as metropolitan as London.

The even funnier part was discovering there was a London in Canada, and it was a very large city to itself. It wasn't too far from Toronto by Canadian standards, but almost a world away by UK standards. In fact, in England, it would have been the other side of the country. Literally. Here it was an afternoon drive as the literal across the country would take days to cross, perhaps longer. The province she now resided in rivalled France in sheer size, if not population.

Even more amusing was the presence of a township, not far from Toronto and London and to their mutual North, was another Chiswick. It was even still on the GO bus route. The first time her agency had sent her to Chiswick, Ontario Donna had nearly laughed her arse off.

This had then settled into a rather large and sobering thought. Most of those back home had assumed that Canada had become largely like the US.

This wasn't true.

At all.

Oh sure, there were some mixing and melding but by and large most Canadian got off on how not the same the two countries were. They prided themselves on the differences and the fact that they still could, for the most part, get along and partner themselves with the other country despite the differences.

Donna had spent most of her time expecting things to be different than England and was mostly shocked by how things were the same. There were some differences, such as the Canadian and American accents, as well as more American influences here than in the UK, but it was far closer to say that Canada - or Ontario at least - was far more English than it was anything else. Naming conventions, culture, governmental practices... all the same. Food and television programming, while it had a distinct Native Canadian flavour sometimes, still the same.

They were a strange duality - their military sang Oh Canada followed very quickly by God Save the Queen.

Donna had fallen into that familiarity like a security blanket and revelled in the differences.

Such as the Native Canadian influence that pervaded everything. Maple syrup on pancakes, or even the bacon, in the morning instead of marmalade or mint jelly. Blueberry jams and jellies in local food stores instead of just the import section. And the maple products! Almost everything was flavoured with it in a local market. But, she could understand why. At first she had been surprised with it, but then she had been thoroughly addicted to the subtle and distinct flavour of maple sugar.

Even home decorating had a native influence, she noticed, as she went more north and into the less populated regions. It was simply easier to get their hands on. At first, Donna had collected anything that even hinted at authentic native art, but then she had been inundated with it all and grown out of it. She fell back into the familiar English part of Canadian culture and let in a few of the other things that flavoured it.

She had travelled to British Columbia, and worked in Newfoundland and Labrador (the latter at one of the temporary mine camps as she had described to her grandfather), seen the Edmonton Mall and even taken some vacation time to see the Calgary Stampede, which, unlike the English influenced Ontario, was like the Old West with new technology. It was like a North Texas, so "Western" it had become and according to those in that area... had always been. But yet still very proudly Canadian and for the love of God, Gods or even Goddess and the Queen, not American, even if their southern neighbours were a nice sort.

Her accent had fallen away and she sounded almost as Canadian as the rest of her friends in Canada.

Her temp job, while it was still listed as temporary, had become permanent and she was working towards a dual citizenship.

Maybe it was the maple addiction but she couldn't see herself leaving now that she was here. She had spoken to a few expats and found that they had been swallowed whole by Canada in the same way. And, because Canada was still part of the Commonwealth, it wasn't as if they were truly expats anyway.

Donna walked back to her desk with her tea in hand.

Jack felt the time pass and, even though he was used to long meetings from his time as the Director of Torchwood Three, this was beginning to wear on even his patience and reserves. The Doctor seemed just as weary.

In truth, she was having little, and very unobtrusive, flashbacks of meetings of the Time Lord High Council on Gallifrey. Those times, as a very young and pre-graduation from the Academy Time Lord, she had followed her grandfather to those meetings and served as an assistant to him. Many others had also brought 'apprentice Time Lords' to the meetings as the time served early would serve them in the long run.

Now she sat with an aide of her own, although he was by far not just an aide nor even an apprentice anything. Her grandfather was dead, as were most of the Time Lords, and she was the higher ranking member of her family while her great-grandmother served as the de-facto Lady President of the Remnant of Time Lords, which meant she could not also serve as the House Kithriarch, or, as the term loosely translated as, head of the House. That had fallen to the Doctor, who now found her time being filled with either her 'consulting' work on Earth or now the duties as the Kithriarch of her House.

Running away from Gallifrey had only served to throw that much more responsibility on her head.

She wondered what her grandfather would have to say about that, and felt a pang of sorrow cut through her being. The Doctor would have loved to ask but unfortunately she would never be able to.

"That doesn't solve the problem of telling us where or who, or even what is actually going on," pointed out one member of UNIT. "The fact that it's been going on for so long - and right under our noses - but the hints have been noticed by not only UNIT and Torchwood but also other private and independent groups and individuals tells us that this isn't the work of a half-assed group, but rather a very organized and well connected one."

"And your sources led you to believe that it was in Toronto?" asked Claude.

"Yes," confirmed Brigadier Magambo, the other person from UNIT. "All signs say that this is the hub, if you excuse the term, Jack..."

"No offense taken," said Jack.

"... that Toronto is being used as the hub. We have a fair idea of which companies, set up as dummy corporations with at least some legitimate operations as to lead us off the trail," finished Magambo.

"What are they doing, precisely?" asked the Doctor. "You dance around the subject, and only speak of the tactics."

The people from UNIT, and some of Torchwood, looked down at their seating plan and then looked up and stared at her from where she had stood up from the table. Even Magambo's eyes had widened in shock.

Jack grinned. The Doctor was a practised hand at using her reputation as a weapon. Of the potential of what she could do rather than what she did. Claude nodded and flipped to another file. "We suspect that this organized ring is using the front of legitimate companies for the export of human slaves, as well as the import of alien ones and worse from off-planet."

"Weapons, drugs, things of that nature," filled in another from Torchwood. "Things that are also helpful in nature, but should be brought through a more legitimate and controlled line."

The Doctor nodded her agreement. "No argument from me. Something is tampering with the Web of Time, unknowingly, mind you. If it was deliberate it would be worse."

She sat back down, which was a silent way of saying she she was done with her questions. The meeting moved along. "Back to the tactics, as the Doctor pointed out," Magambo started. "I would like to suggest a raid."

Claude thinned his eyes. "What sort of raid?"

"The kind that UNIT is well known for," answered the Doctor again, quietly. "Publicly."

The room erupted in an uproar, some in agreement and thinking it was the best course of action to scare off the criminal element from off world, and from Earth, others thinking a more subtle hand was needed, but still wanting to raid. The Doctor stood again, and those closest to her moved away from the stormy look in her eyes. She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled, cutting through the din. Almost instantaneously the room quieted. "Raiding will get you no-where." The Doctor's voice didn't seem loud but its clarity reached every corner of the room. "Subtle or otherwise, your quarry will fade into shadows so deep that no one will be able to get to them. What you need is an idea of where those corners are so that when they do decide to hide we can illuminate them and know where they are before they realize that we know."

"What do you suggest?" asked Claude.

"Something subtle, more subtle than undercover raid. But... undercover is the right idea. These are, fronts or not, perhaps legitimate companies. Send in 'temps' to fill in for people who have called in sick. Instead of looking for a weak spot and trying to force your way in, be invited in the front door," she answered.

Magambo leaned back in her chair. Claude nodded as he looked over. "I agree with her strategy. When, and if, we have to raid, we'll be in a far better position to than going in randomly," he pointed out.

"Agreed."

ACT TWO

The company was not so large that it was rich, but it wasn't so small that it was broke either. They weren't posh either. That much was certain. The shipping business sometimes didn't pay well and the costs were high. The Doctor could understand why some would be tempted to play the less than legal side of things.

For the next few months, or for however long it took, she wasn't the Doctor.

She was simply Susan Foreman-Campbell, administrative temporary worker from an agency that was a set-up by another set-up to one eventually owned and controlled by Torchwood. They had managed, after hiring a few clueless human resources people and giving her all the credentials she needed, short a few enough that would make her an ideal temp worker but not enough to make her unemployable.

When she a placement came up she was sent out until finally the opening she needed came up. One of the companies on the list finally needed someone to fill out a short in the office.

Which was where she was now.

She had been working here for a few days and so far she was nearly invisible. This incarnation had a Canadian accent, specifically one from Ontario. Her identity was from Canada - up North to be exact. Just enough to fit in but also far enough to explain any strange questions she might ask.

If complaining would have gotten him anywhere, he would have been complaining right then. Thankfully, he had been able to get a position at the same company as the Doctor, only in the mail room

It was horrendously dry and boring work but it had a rather interesting side effect of giving Jack the excuse to be anywhere at any time. His duties took him there. Unlike the Doctor he had been hired on permanently. Mail room duties, unless someone called in sick, were not temp worker fare. It was a good thing considering two temps from the same agency in a city where there were dozens of companies would have been slightly suspicious.

At this point it had been agreed that it would also work better if the Doctor and he did not know each other. Susan Foreman-Campbell would be a stranger to him, and he wasn't using the name Jack Harkness either. Much to his amusement they had picked another name for him, one that was normal enough to fit him but not so normal as the original Doctor's favourite standby.

The names suggested had run the entire alphabet but it had been Ianto who suggested something that either started with a J or sounded similar, that way if he accidentally turned to the sound of his own name, it could be explained away as he thought he heard his name being called but when he realized it wasn't he ignored it. It would be believable if the sound was similar And then a properly modern but not too modern name had to be settled on. That brought the massive list down to eight possible first, given, names he could use to eight. Six started with the letter J and the other two started with G, but was a close enough sound the same to make the list. Then he'd try out each name for a day or two to see which he could settle on the best.

The name settled on ended up being Jeff, which was very, very close to Jack. It didn't seem it but Jack found he could answer to Jeff with little to no hesitation, and when yelled out - except for the fact that the soft 'f' was different than the hard 'k' - it almost twinned his name. It was different enough to not immediately associate with Jack.

Given his American accent, they decided to stick with that as a cover story. He came up from down South for a girlfriend, and then they broke up but by then he had his permanent resident's papers. He was working on his dual citizenship, same as so many others in Toronto.

From there they had to pick a last name. Jack decided he would be from Los Angeles, California. It was far enough to not run into just anyone from there, but yet big enough to still disappear into. It was also a very metropolitan area with numerous others from many different backgrounds so he could play a bit. Not a lot, but a bit. But, since Susan had already taken both Foreman and Campbell, he needed something different. It needed to be something that mixed in and faded. That list had grown out of control.

But eventually it had settled to Jeffrey Ashton Chase, or just Jeff Chase. The most amusing part about the name was that the initials were his name, albeit missing the 'k'.

He was on his rounds, which was a boring job of simply pushing a cart full of mail for the section he was assigned to and delivering mail to the various desks and offices. "Hey, Mr. LA!" called one of the girls he had warmed up to quickly on his first day, until she had noticed his slight American accent.

There wasn't much of a difference between an American accent and a Canadian one, unless you were Canadian. At which point a person got noticed. They were almost as bad as the British only the accents were not as varied in the UK, however, they could peg a person as not from the same area as they were based on inflections just as easily. He still got on with her quite well but had to endure the ribbing from being from the US. It was at least friendly ribbing, but still there.

"Hey, Becca, what's up?" he asked.

"I was wondering if you were free at lunch." Jack listened to her but had noticed the red head behind her.

He could only see the woman from the back and he was struck with a sense of dread and familiarity. It was a rivulet of shock, but he couldn't place where or when. He listened with half an ear to Becca, and agreed to meet her for lunch. He could use the distraction, really. This job was beginning to drive him out of his mind in boredom and he hadn't found anything suspicious yet.

It was at break on the same day that a preset plan of action for the Doctor and Jack to 'get to know each other' was put into action so that they could be seen at work together without raising suspicion. Becca was followed by the Doctor for break, to get tea, and Jack had made sure he had made arrangements to also meet Becca. Becca had no idea what was going on - she was merely a convenient connection within the company with no connections to them, UNIT or even Torchwood.

It made her perfect and randomly convenient.

Jack felt a bit guilty for using her that way, but still...

Becca introduced them and Jack lifted a brow, watching her leave and letting his gaze linger on the Doctor for a long moment when the break ended, much to Becca's consternation.

The next day, the Doctor bent over to get something in the lower cupboard during lunch and Jack again let his gaze linger a bit too long that was totally necessary. He went back to work and was thoroughly ribbed. "Jeff, Jeff..." said one of the clerks there. "She's way out of your league. And her name sounds like she could even be married. Hyphenated like those professional types do, anyway."

"Doesn't mean she's married," said Jack in response. "Can't hurt to ask."

"And if she is?"

"Oh well..." said Jack, with a grin. "Plenty of fish in the sea."

The next day, she bent over again, and he looked. Only this time she 'caught him' and, stood up abruptly and glared at him, to which he flashed his trademarked grin and then looked away in feigned innocence. The same co-worker shook his head and remarked later, "You have a death wish, Jeff..."

"Can you blame me?"

"On her? No... that one has attracted attention in the office. Exotic beauty with a non-exotic name..."

Jack caught that. She'd been noticed as something about her had not gelled the way it should have. The name and her looks for one.

On the third day, Jack felt the looking and grinning had gone far enough and moved the game to the next stage. Instead of sitting with his colleagues at lunch he walked over to her table. "Mind if I share your table?" he asked, throwing a catching his apple in the air.

"I do mind, actually," she answered, not coldly, but definitely dismissively. "I won't be here long."

"Aw, too bad," said Jack as he winked and walked away back to his colleagues.

"Nice try, Jeff," said his coworker, shaking his head and putting his face in one hand. "You don't give up do you?"

"Never!" maintained Jack with a laugh.

The next day he tried again and Susan let him sit with her. They filled the lunch with inane and small talk, quiet but boring. At the end of the lunch, Jack waved good bye until break, and Susan went back to her desk. She still had a few minutes left to her lunch. She was surprised when a coworker came up to her and in a very familiar accent, one from Chiswick, said, "You so have to dish on that one, Sunshine."

The Doctor felt her throat close as she looked up into the green eyes of Donna Noble, who now leaned on the cubicle wall of her workspace. "I'm sorry?" asked the Doctor, stunned.

"That dishy mail room clerk. So... what's he like?" asked Donna again. "And don't tell me you didn't notice - you'd have to be dead not to. A guy like that? Puh-lease... what's the matter with you? You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

"You remind me of an old friend of mine... gone now... and the resemblance is rather uncanny and unexpected. I'm fine now."

Donna's eyes softened in that way that they usually did when she honestly felt for someone, which, ironically, only made the pain that had settled into the Doctor's twin hearts even worse.

The next day, Jack and the Doctor had a more animated, less cool lunch. The developing romance was getting noticed, but that was the point of the charade. What they didn't want noticed was that they already knew each other and in that they were successful. At last break he finally asked Susan, "Would you find me totally inappropriate and report me to HR if I asked to meet you outside of work?"

"That depends," she answered. "Where would you want to meet?"

"Oh, nothing too inappropriate... maybe for coffee at a cafe or something..." Jack leaned back in the chair and breathed in the hot, humid, June air.

Anyone who said Canada was a cold country had not tried to sit outside during the really hot summer days in Ontario. It was sweltering, humid and heavy. The sun was bright and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, nor would there be, which made the heat all the more worse as pretty as it made the day. One of the weather announcers had even fried an egg on the pavement. They would have stayed inside in the air conditioned comfort but that meant being inside and it was, as hot as it was, a beautiful day out.

"I'd love to, that's suitably neutral and public enough," she agreed with a laugh.

"There's a coffee shop on Yonge..."

"Are you crazy?" she asked suddenly, looking at him strangely. "That's not altogether close to here. And there are plenty of coffee shops at this end of town."

"Yeah, but where I'm thinking is the core of the old city, near the ROM. Maybe we can catch a sight or two while we're down there," he pointed out.

"Oh, all right. Parking is a mess but I'm sure I'll figure something out."

"Where can we meet if we catch the Metro?"

"The what?"

"The bus system or subway...?" he tried again.

"Oh, you mean the TTC. Where are you from, Mr. Chase?" she asked coyly.

"You caught me... I'm not even Canadian..." he leaned in conspiratorially. "I'm from DC. Originally LA. As you can see... slowly working my way North. In DC it's the Metro."

"Yeah, here and you call it that you give yourself away," she pointed out. "So, when and where?"

"Oh, ah... how about Saturday in the afternoon, say around noon so we can sleep in if we happen to find ourselves out on Friday, wouldn't want to crimp your style." He winked at her, and she rolled her eyes. "But early enough so that if we catch a sight we have time to enjoy it. Make a lunch date... informal and relaxing... what do you think?"

"I think you got yourself a date."

Jack walked back to the mail room, grinning as the clerk who talked to him asked, "Well?"

"She agreed to see me on Saturday and catch a few sights," Jack put his two thumbs up, and the clerks let out a whoop.

"Nice one, man, no one... and I mean no one... thought anyone could get the Ice Queen to melt."

Susan slipped into her desk and was immediately beset by both Becca and Donna. "Okay... I agreed to see him outside of work. But nothing has happened yet..." she pointed her fingers at them before they could ask. "So don't get your hopes up."

"You go girl," winked Becca as she went back to work.

Donna grinned and clapped her hands. "You... will so dish on Monday... mark my words..." she also pointed a finger as she backed over to her own desk.

The warehouse was well organized and lit as well as a warehouse would typically be. No one wanted any reason for the Ministry of Labour to stick their noses in and so the company kept its property clean, maintained and safe. To avoid other attention, they didn't bother to make it posh or too upscale. Just enough to keep up with those around them but no more. While they maintained it was to keep up appearances and not embarrass their neighbours, but not cost effective for anything else, in truth it was simply to mix in and not give outsiders any reason to single them out.

It wasn't far from the shipping district on Lake Ontario but was still on the shores of Lake Ontario with its own docking slip, and the container ship moored at it was being loaded with the typical containers.

Two people walked between the containers, and deeper among the containers where they began to look less like the typical, Earth, shipping containers and a whole lot more otherworldly, not to mention sealed environments. There was a barely perceptible hum and one of the people checked the seals on it just as a crane set a container, with the top removed, down beside the alien container. They put the straps on the alien one and the crane lifted it, manoeuvred it, and placed it in the human container as a shell. It then lifted the top and the workers placed it on the container. The crane then returned to its normal work of loading the ship while the two workers welded the container back together again.

They then slipped away as the crane moved that container onto the ship, with no one the wiser.

ACT THREE

The coffee shop wasn't crowded, nor was it one of those French affairs one seen entirely too often that it was nearly a cliche. Nor was it necessarily a coffee shop, but it served fantastic food and the prices weren't all that bad. Jack looked at Susan suspiciously. She had zoned in on it almost like she had been here before.

Bonissimo Caffe was more Eastern European, it had a distinct Russian and Moldavian feel to it. It was warm and welcoming. Then again, it wasn't on Yonge either as once they had got down there, they both agreed that Starbucks wasn't necessarily to their tastes, nor was the local Tim Horton's or Timothy's. She fit right in with her current incarnation. He would have loved to ask why she insisted on using the name Susan Foreman-Campbell, besides the obvious, and one that would have fit with this incarnation but they both knew that appearances still had to be maintained.

So they spoke in code to relay information or covered it with inane things from their cover stories. Things to throw off any suspicions.

They ate, paid and left the caffe. During the walk she leaned in and said, "Donna is here."

Jack almost jumped out of his skin. "Does she have any idea?"

The Doctor shook her head. Jack sighed. "I thought I saw her on my first day, when I first met Becca, but I wasn't sure. Now I know."

"Stay clear," warned the Doctor. "Did my grandfather ever tell you what happened after they returned the Earth during that affair with the Daleks?"

"No, why... what happened?" asked Jack.

"He had to lock away everything - the metacrisis would have killed her otherwise. Neither of them got away from that..." she trailed off. "If she remembers she will die. She can't remember... so stay clear as much as possible so it doesn't accidentally jog her memory. And yes, it's possible. The mind is a complex and tricky thing. Things are blocked away, never erased, and sometimes a necessary connection can suddenly connect and the memories come back... do you understand what I am saying?"

"Yeah," answered Jack darkly. "I'll do my best not to be seen."

"Too late for that, I'm afraid... she's already demanded for details of my date with 'Mr. Dishy'," said the Doctor with a trace of irony in her voice.

They both laughed at that, but the laughter was sad and mournful. "I wonder why she's here... and what happened to Shaun Temple..." mused the Doctor.

Jack turned to her and asked, "Who?"

"Her husband. She got married after my grandfather wiped her memory."

"I could look into it for you."

"No, no... leave it be for now. That could be taken as suspicious."

Jack nodded. "Okay." He then grinned widely and gave her a poke in the ribs. "Well, my dear Doctor, so what it took to get you out on a date with me... was coffee and not tea?"

The Doctor slapped him on the shoulder playfully. "So not funny."

"So was."

The afternoon in the ROM went quickly, although the Doctor had to keep biting her tongue as much as Jack did about how sometimes the curators had it a little wrong... and that they had both been there a few times to know...

Finally, Jack asked and cajoled her into a dinner and a movie. "We're out now, may as well..."

She looked at him sideways, for the benefit of anyone who might overhear. In truth she was enjoying her relaxed day just wandering with no hint of trouble with Jack. Too bad it had to be in the guise of Jeff and Susan. "Aren't we perhaps moving a bit fast?"

He laughed and hugged her, which she didn't fight to free herself from. "You're a temp, have to be quick before your contract is up, eh?"

Susan laughed, sighed, shook her head and then finally agreed with a simple, "Oh all right. You win! Sounds like fun anyway."

Dinner was at another restaurant, not as downtown but still no-where close to either of their apartments. The movie was in the same block.

And then Jack, feeling adventurous, managed to talk her into a few drinks at a relaxed but upscale (and rather expensive) bar. Susan could have taken him drink for drink, but they had to appear to be on a limited, but not too limited budget and human, so after a few drinks she made like she was less than steady on her feet, as he did. He hailed a cab, and after a short... perhaps too short... discussion it was decided that because his apartment was closer that they both would go there.

"Now I think you're moving a bit too fast," she giggled as she got into the cab with him. "But I don't care!"

Jack grinned and paid the cab driver for the not cheap at all taxi ride.

Once in the apartment, she sobered slightly, scanned for bugs, found none and nodded to Jack. They were abruptly sober and finally able to talk plainly. "So, we've been there for a few weeks. Have you found anything?"

He shook his head. "The place looks clean. There are inconsistencies but nothing like what Torchwood would be looking for. We may have to move to the next one." He sighed and leaned back. "I'd have to go through the bother of creating another alias and getting hired again, and your agency would have to find a reason to move you to the next contract... unless we switched roles."

"Let's give it one more day, or even to the end of the week."

"Sounds fine to me. Maybe I will have worked out why the inconsistencies. If nothing else, it will give the CRA something to look at," said Jack as he looked at the bed in the room and then grinned. "You know, this apartment is quite small... I don't even have a bedroom as this is a bachelor apartment... so just the one bed and I sleep in the nude."

She gave him a half heated glare and sighed. "And I didn't bring anything to sleep in but my knickers and camisole, or my clothes, and I'd rather they not be wrinkled tomorrow. Although Donna and Becca will notice that I haven't changed my clothes."

"It's Sunday tomorrow."

"I'm meeting them for lunch tomorrow," she answered.

"Oh, now that's a problem," laughed Jack. "What will people say!"

She punched his arm then. "Donna will want the naughty details..."

"Well..."

"Ugh, is that that all you think about?" she wrinkled her nose.

"Don't Time Lords have to reproduce somehow?" asked Jack back.

"Well, yes... but we are not so lewd about it."

"Okay, then... come lay beside me. We don't have to do anything but if you want to, I won't be adverse to it."

Susan laid down beside Jack and let him pull her close, spooning up behind her as he pulled the covers up with a yawn. "Ah, I see," she said with a grin, as she let herself relax as well. "You're sleepy."

"'s hard work keeping up appearances and dating you. Three dates in one night, phew..." he yawned again. "G'night Doctor."

The Doctor sighed and laid her head down on the pillow, closing her eyes. "Good night, Jack."

The view from his office was spectacular, but Claude Vaillieux hardly ever noticed this. Often he was too busy to look out on the city and the lake that it sat on the edge of. Lake. That was funny. It was really more of an inland sea. There was a larger lake, far colder as well, to the North and West where another two cities (in Canada anyway) sat on its shores.

Toronto was the one city that reminded him the most of the Citadel, if anyone knew to ask. It had very similar spires and in the fall the leaves on the trees were painfully identical. There was even a variant of the maple, which, as far as he knew, only grew in this part of the word that was even silver leaved with a red-brown trunk. When he had saw this he had nearly cried at the loss.

The leaves didn't ring with a hidden song when the wind moved through them. Here, they had their own music, so different, but yet... if he closed his eyes... still close enough.

It was much like Gallifrey here.

A city on the cusp of wilds, untamed. Large, and often cold except when it wasn't. Well, cold if you were human, which he wasn't. He found the winters, and the cool fall and spring, comfortable where the humans looked to the spring with hope of far warmer (to only complain when it got too warm) and saw fall with despair where for him autumn was relief.

A Time Lord, or even just another Gallifreyan, was used to a far cooler planet. Gallifrey would have likely surprised the humans. Despite the two suns, the planet was actually colder than Earth. His temperature was actually close to where a Time Lord found it comfortable. Unbearably warm was approximately 20 degrees Celsius for a Time Lord (although Time Lords had a very robust tolerance... it didn't mean they were comfortable with it...) while for a human the comfort level was a few degrees warmer, around the 23 degree to 25 degree mark and unbearably warm - while it varied according to opinion - was around 30 degrees which was a full ten degrees higher than a Time Lord's comfort level. What humans found cool sent a Time Lord running for an air conditioner. When a human found it too warm, the Time Lord, unless he really, really had to, would be likely sitting under it or in front of it trying to cool down and become comfortable again.

It was one of the reasons Claude had chosen to live in Canada instead of a warmer country in the Commonwealth. Supposedly it was a colder country. Compared to Russia, it often was.

He was shocked by the typical Southern Ontario summer.

It was warmer than Florida and just as humid, without the respite of the breezes from the ocean. His Time Lord comfort level had been blown out of the water on the first hot day, only to learn that there was more to come over the course of the really long summer.

He'd asked Torchwood to assign him elsewhere, but they were to milder climes. On average, Toronto was the colder of them all, especially in the winter, but the summers were brutal and they seemed to start in April and not end until October. Relief came in October and stayed until April when it began to warm again. Rapidly too. There barely seemed to be a week of any melt of any snow that might have fallen - what had happened to the cold and snowy winters like on all those post cards? - before the weather turned warm... and then hot.

He eyed the Northern cities in jealously at that point only to learn that their summers were no better than Toronto's even if they came later and left sooner... and not by much. The largest of the Northern cities was Sudbury and it was only ever a month behind in the Spring, if that, or a month or two ahead in the fall. The winter was far colder and the snows deeper, considering they usually at least got snow.

He had gone up once for the winter holiday for a winter festival of some sort. The lakes froze over solid enough to drive on. He hadn't trusted this and chose not to drive his car out onto one of the lakes or rivers, but saw others parked on them and driving them. The snow was deep enough to go over his boots and into his socks, but he had loved it. It was a day trip from Toronto, not more than a five hour drive, to a winter wonderland. His secretary had been horrified at his taking a trip to go someplace even colder instead of "escaping" someplace warm. He began to book his vacations for summers and would go further North to see where the cooler places were. He'd gone to Siberia once, but had come back to Canada in the end. It was quicker to head North here than elsewhere.

Although, he now took a yearly trip to Norway and Sweden and booked off three weeks for it as the travel time was brutal. He could have cheated and used his TARDIS except... no... there was no point in thinking about that.

He was lucky enough to be entitled to one three-week vacation a year, plus any statutory weekends except in times of crisis at which point any booked time off was cancelled and he had to come back. It was for this reason he preferred to stay close to home.

Claude was reading the reports and going over them with great interest. This Doctor was a meticulous note-taker, a far cry from the one he knew. Jack wasn't all that bad either. He would have had to have been, considering he was the former Director of Torchwood Three. Claude had read his older reports and noted the change in tone over the years. Especially now.

The other reports from other agents were all adding up to one thing.

This was turning into a giant wild goose chase and unlike one giant goose (or was that a loon?) in Wawa, this wasn't an easy one to find. The door opened and the UNIT liaison walked in. He looked up. "I am sure there is something going on here," said Claude as he shuffled through the papers again.

"How can you know that?" asked Lieutenant Austin Hsu of UNIT, the liaison assigned to Torchwood by UNIT.

Torchwood also had their own liaison, one Gwen Cooper from Torchwood Three. He saw her every so often as she spent most of her time in the UK where, for some reason, UNIT was headquartered. She sometimes came here if the Brigadier General was here. Which she was considering the situation. He wondered where Magambo was if she sent Hsu instead.

"I have many years of experience of being able to pick out where and when a situation arises, Austin," answered Claude and he looked up at Hsu.

Hsu's face was unreadable, but in the tense stance Claude could see a certain amount of stress. "Out with it, man," said Claude. "You have something to say."

"Your American counterpart, Seven Seven... what used to be Torchwood America... is brewing to move in."

Claude looked at him sharply, although Hsu knew it wasn't actually aimed at him. "They will stay where they are unless asked. Canada is not part of the USA and their interference would be unwelcome... however... I am not against a joint operation with the agencies working together."

Hsu remained quiet, but he could see by the subtle relaxation in the tense muscles that Claude's answer was the more welcome one by UNIT, but only just. Claude read the second part of what UNIT wanted. With a sigh, Claude hit a button on his phone to contact his personal assistant. "Em, contact Section Seven and ask for a liaison to be sent to Toronto. Make it clear that only said liaison and one personal assistant is allowed on Canadian soil." When Em responded in the affirmative, he hit the button and turned the phone off. "For now, you can tell your superiors that this is still only a joint venture with UNIT and Torchwood Canada, and with the S-7 liaison serving as advisor only... just in case this ends up branching out into the US. Will that satisfy UNIT?"

"Yes sir," answered Hsu, and Claude inwardly groaned knowing that this had been Magambo's plan the entire time.

How well the little human knew him without actually knowing him!

On Monday, the Doctor and Jack returned to work. Donna of course noticed that, during their lunch on Sunday that her clothes had been the same as on Saturday. She had told Becca and now the three were conferencing around Susan's desk. "Well?" asked Becca. "Donna said you showed up slightly late, without your car and in the same clothes as Saturday. What gives?"

"Okay, so I stayed overnight at his place," admitted Susan and the two other women gasped, then grinned like schoolgirls.

"Dish," ordered Donna.

"The date lasted longer than expected."

"Oh, I'm so sure it did," said Becca with a grin.

"Don't read so much into it!"

"So... what else happened?" asked Donna.

"What?" asked Susan as she choked on her coffee. "Donna! Really! I've said enough on the subject."

Jack walked into work and his coworkers looked up. The one that he usually talked with grinned. "So, how was the weekend?"

"Good," answered Jack, still grinning.

"Oh no way, you didn't... not with the Ice Queen..." said another one.

Jack grinned and shook his head. "The most you'll get out of me is that she's no Ice Queen once you get her to warm up. What she is, though, is a widow. So... she requires a sensitive touch," said Jack. "And we didn't do anything. It was very tame, compared to what you're thinking. I will admit I wanted to, but knowing that I... well... I didn't want to push her."

There was a bit of a stunned silence in the mail room and the one he worked with the most said, "Well, that does explain a lot about her."

The others nodded and the other piped up, "She isn't the only temp widow... that redhead... Donna, I think her name was... the English one... she's a widow too. I heard her tell Becca that her husband was killed in a car accident back home, where ever it is and she couldn't stay there anymore, so we went travelling because it felt natural."

Jack filed that away for the future. The Doctor would definitely want to know that about her grandfather's friend. Not to mention the two were now on even ground, if in fact they hadn't always been. There was a hint that bothered Jack immensely, ever since having to go after the Doctor to save her from her own father. The one person they had never met, and he had expected to given how many members of the original Doctor's family had been kicking about on that asteroid, was the Doctor's actual wife and mother of his children. She had had been no-where to be found, and from the look of it, especially given Hawke's attitude regarding his own father, as well as Susan's, the original Doctor must have been a widower long before the Time War. The question was how long before.

Was that the reason he had started travelling? Jack had never given it much thought until Donna's reason had been thrown almost literally in his lap. Due to the metacrisis, it was entirely possible that a coping mechanism of the Doctor's was influencing Donna. If that were true, it explained entirely too much about the original Doctor and why he always did what he did.

Home and the memories of home would have been painful before the destruction of Gallifrey, never mind the feeling of knowing that even if he wanted to he could never go home and walk the halls he shared with a wife and family after the War.

Jack could relate.

He worked the rest of the afternoon, mulling that one over. He was nearing the last break when he was pulled into his supervisor's office. "Ah, Jeff... it came to our attention that you are pursuing a possible conflict of interest with a temp in the office."

"Oh?" asked Jack, surprised by this.

"So, in the meantime, we are assigning you to the secondary mail room at the actual warehouse at the docks." His supervisor leaned back, have expecting his new employee to rail against the unfair treatment, even if it was completely fair, but the blow-up didn't come.

"Okay, when would you like me to start there?" asked Jack, rolling with it.

"Well, to give you some time to adjust, perhaps on Wednesday. Tomorrow will be your last day at this location."

Jack nodded. "Okay, uhm, that will give me time to take a look at the new location and figure out the new drive to work. See what it's like at different times of day, or see if maybe perhaps I don't need to drive at all."

"That's a great attitude, Jeff!" beamed his supervisor. "Keep that up and you'll be promoted."

Jack grinned. "Sure, boss!"

"Well, I'll let you get back to it," said his supervisor in dismissal.

Jack turned and walked out, not sure if he should tell the others or not. He knew who he was telling - and she would likely be as amused as he was. Location wise, that was precisely where he needed to be to see the real guts of the operation. If there was anything questionable, it would be in the warehouse, not the office.

On last break, he told Susan that Jeff would be relocating to the other location. He saw the telltale lift of an eyebrow and the very subtle smirk on her lips. She'd read between the lines and her thought process was indeed running the same way.

After work they laughed wholeheartedly on how well things had gone... but Jack never remembered to tell the Doctor what he had learned about Donna.

ACT FOUR

Since Jack had left for the other location, Donna had decided to move in on Susan. Susan didn't refuse her. There was something that seemed to pull them together like magnets. Donna seemed to always know what Susan needed and Susan found she was doing something she knew her grandfather had always done with Donna. It was them again, if only with the blissful unawareness of it.

The Doctor didn't want to know what her grandfather would have thought. She knew by her own mixed feelings what was likely.

Donna was as chatty as ever, until someone made the mistake of asking Susan why the hyphenated name. Susan froze, and Donna read into it, her lips pressed into a thin line. "You too, eh?" asked Donna quietly and the Doctor felt her eyes widen in shock.

Oh Donna, no... you were supposed to be happy... thought the Doctor mournfully. Donna nodded as she patted the Doctor's hand, but turned to the other. "Back off, you prawn, she's like me." Donna turned back and asked the question the Doctor wasn't sure how to answer. "How long?"

Oh by the sweaty knickers of Rassilon, how was she supposed to answer that one?

Well, it's like this... sometime in the future after the Daleks actually succeed in taking over the Earth, my grandfather - that's the Doctor you remember, by the way... he just never had regenerated before yet - and I liberated the humans and I fell in love with a young revolutionary. He was so brave and didn't fear the Daleks... and he helped save my grandfather... flash forward about twenty years and some douche bag would ruin all that by freeing a new bunch of Daleks, and he'd kidnap me...

My grandfather came back, but I didn't know that, in his Eighth incarnation and he and David worked together to rescue me, but... my grandfather realized that the douche bag that kidnapped me who didn't know I was another Time Lord was the Master. Have you ever met him? No? Don't want to either, you aren't missing anything.

Anyway, the Master tried to kill my grandfather but David jumped in front of him at the very last second so the Master shot them both. Two for one special, that! I thought them dead so when the Master took me on his TARDIS I used the telepathic circuits to overload his senses, gave him the option like my grandfather would have, but he didn't take it so I shot the bastard dead with his own gun and took his TARDIS. David died, my grandfather didn't.

Travelled for awhile until the Master's TARDIS landed on Earth and refused to go anywhere else, so I raised the son I also thought dead alone and never saw my grandfather again until Alex was about twenty or so. He hadn't regenerated! He left, the War happened. He came back in his thirteenth and died in my arms. Long story short, my husband died years ago but at the same time he hasn't even been born yet...

About those apples... mused Susan. So she simply answered, "It's... been awhile. What about you?"

"Shaun was killed in a car accident. I was at home. Between the lottery ticket some random friend of my Granddad's gave us, which won us millions, and the insurance money I don't have to work but it keeps me busy," Donna got a faraway look on her face. "And I... you'll likely find this strange... but I felt like I was needed here."

The Doctor swallowed, but Donna didn't see her discomfort. That wasn't a good sign. Oh it was. Ever brilliant, Donna was. But if she was feeling hints then it was possible that the blocks to protect her were slipping.

It was another container, and another alien container. The work was going full tilt and the noise was horrendous. Jack held two envelopes in his hands that were meant for the shop foreman. He swallowed as he watched the crane work. So much for the company being completely innocent, he thought ruefully. He had come to genuinely like his co-workers but now he wasn't sure who was in on it and who was not.

Jack looked down and then backed out of the room, nonchalantly, making like he was more concerned with his toes and other extremities in the face of heavy construction... just in case he had been observed he wanted to be sure they thought that he thought he had backed out for fear of his personal safety due to a lack of the normal safety equipment in construction work, such as his lack of steel toes or other special clothing.

He looped around to the foreman's office and dropped off the two envelopes before making his way, again, avoiding the work area, to the secondary mail room that was his new home until 'Susan' no longer worked for the same company as he did and was subsequently reassigned to a new company.

So far, so good. Either no one had seen him at all or they had bought his phony concerns. Jack went back to work, filing away the information suddenly gained as well as keeping a close eye on his environment for now on. Not only for the very real concern of his lack of steel toes (that would be rectified tomorrow!) but also to be sure that he wasn't suddenly going to disappear for knowing too much.

Hopefully they continued to think he was a clueless human living in the early 21st century.

Three people sat in Claude's office that day. One of whom was Claude himself, the other was none other than the legendary Brigadier-General, now retired (sometimes), Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart of UNIT and the liaison sent to them from Section Seven.

"I really must insist on our being brought in on this, not just as outside advisors," said the woman from Section Seven, Special Agent Sheila Thomson. "It may have been a few... hundred... years since Section Seven and Torchwood were one and the same but we are, at the core, the same organization. Just because we are American and not part of the English Commonwealth anymore doesn't mean we should be at odds."

"To do so at this point would jeopardize our operative's cover, as well as the person from UNIT on the inside," answered Claude with a tone of finality.

Sir Alistair looked from the Section Seven Special Agent to the Director of Torchwood and back again. Magambo had told him, in that clipped way of hers, that he was useful here and to please come out of retirement, just for this one thing. She was being pulled in too many different directions and while she could trust another office, this would be right up Sir Alistair's alley. She had no time to brief him beyond that, and it was too classified and sensitive to trust to another.

The involvement by Torchwood was a surprise, but the Brig was good at rolling with things. This was indeed a challenge worth coming out of retirement for, and he had his suspicions on who was involved if UNIT felt he was the best man for the job.

Suspicions confirmed moments later when Thomson said, "Oh please, we know Jack Harkness is on the case, he's been seen... and even more interesting was that he was seen once already here... not on entry. Which, given all the fears over terrorism..."

"... Not at all encouraged by your colleagues in Langley," pointed out Claude.

She shrugged and then continued, "Not to mention no record at all of him entering Canada or North America at all, not even by CCTV... interesting, don't you think?"

Claude kept his face carefully neutral. "This is Canadian soil, not American, and if I saw fit to have a member of Torchwood enter Canada under my jurisdiction, that is my business, not yours. We only brought in your agency in case it does happen to cross the border... not for Section Seven to intrude on our case."

Thomson held up her hands in surrender. "I understand, and we would feel the same if the situation were reversed, we just want to know if UNIT's special man... what was his name again... oh right... he doesn't have one... the Doctor, I believe? We want to know if he's here. We've always been impressed with his work and if possible I'd love to shake his hand and I have been authorized to ask him for independent consulting work. Of course, nothing that would interfere with the security of our sovereign nations..."

Claude looked over at Alistair and Alistair suddenly had the feeling that, yes, blast it all, the Doctor was here. How else did Jack get here? "I am not privy to say," answered Alistair, and he looked at Claude for a moment.

Just for a second he could have sensed Claude's feelings on the Doctor meeting Section Seven. That'd be a cold day in hell, seemed to be their mutual thought. They both knew why Section Seven really wanted the Doctor, and it had nothing to do with shaking his or her hand. Alistair wondered if, again, he had crossed his own time stream or jumped ahead. He'd like to see him again. Especially knowing what Alistair did now.

The unbidden memory of the memorial at Stonehenge came to mind.

Jack waited at the door of the Doctor's apartment, which was also where the TARDIS was hidden within and away from the prying eyes of anyone who might see. When she pulled in, he grinned as he walked with her, kissing her lightly on the cheek and making small talk about their day.

Once inside, she made a pass with her sonic screwdriver, and then they entered the TARDIS where they could speak without worrying about even any missed ones. The TARDIS had that effect on things.

Jack sighed in relief as did the Doctor. "We're on the right track," he said.

"Oh?" she asked.

"Yeah, walked into something by sheer chance. They're hiding alien containers in human ones. I have no idea what's in the alien ones, but it's enough for Torchwood to step in."

The Doctor nodded as Jack continued to tell her of his day, which was more normal than what he had reported.

Outside the apartment, two people watched. They used cameras and long range microphones to pick up what was being said, if anything was, but strangely enough nothing was heard. Jeff and Susan had gone into Susan's apartment and it had simply gone quiet from there. That wasn't too bad, as most new buildings were too well insulated to listen through anyway.

The second one was on a laptop with a satellite connection, and he pulled the other to the screen as the picture of Jeff came up on the screen, with Torchwood identification, as not Jeff, but Jack Harkness, the former Director of Torchwood Three in Cardiff. The two looked at each other and the one on the computer ran another search of known acquaintances. The two were surprised when there was a second hit on the search.

Donna Noble.

"She didn't even bother to hide, and in fact, everything checks out. She's only told the truth," said the first one. "Maybe it's a coincidence. They don't appear to know each other, but then again, they haven't exactly made contact except through that girlfriend."

"Could be," agreed the one with the camera. "But my gut says he's working with someone and she's the only one he could be. Maybe the girlfriend is a cover - convenient messenger girl and lay at the same time. Or maybe she's in on it, but she's not associated with UNIT, us or Torchwood. Born, educated and married in Canada to an American husband. I'd say they're using her as a messenger and that Jack fellow, given his rep, is sleeping with her because it's convenient and she's not that bad on the eyes. Maybe Donna is innocent of this as well, we haven't seen any signs of messaging or contact. They're either so subtle we can't see it or she's not in on it either and someone else is. Bring her in anyway. Maybe she can help us shake the tree for the fruit, even if not connected."

ACT FIVE

Jack came into work, now sporting his steel toes, and went immediately to his area to begin the morning sort. He looked up for a moment. Something wasn't right. He couldn't put his finger on it, though. And it wasn't as if he was a strong, or as well trained, psychic as the Doctor. But, he could pick up on the stirrings of violence and excitement in the air.

There was also raw fear.

He then noticed how alone he was.

He took a breath, finished the sort and put it all on the cart. He moved out of the room and around the corner to come face to face with two aliens. "You are Torchwood, sent to stop us."

"What?" he asked, surprised.

Dammit. He had been so sure they had not seen him... that he had covered his tracks. He was pulled into a side office, and then through a door in the wall and down other corridors that were dark and not well lit.

Jack thought ruefully about the cellphone in his pocket but that he wouldn't have the chance to call for help. "So, fellas... any chance you've got coffee down here? Kind of left the house late and didn't have time to stop on the way..."

"Shut up!" ordered the second one.

"Damn... oh well... hmm... threesome. Kinky..."

The first one swore in a language he didn't understand and lapsed to Trade Common. "He's as bad as the files we have on him say he is."

"I'm flattered! You have files on me!" he answered back in the same language.

The Doctor was also at work, just sitting down and turning on her computer, actually, when she heard Donna's voice raised. The tone suggested anger, and then she caught the words. "What is the meaning of this?" shouted Donna.

This can't be good, mused the Doctor. She got up and walked around the corner. Three suited people in black suits were trying to herd Donna off the floor and to the elevator. One of them, a woman, turned to the Doctor and the others and said, "Go back to work."

"Wait, that's the other one's girlfriend," said the second one.

The Doctor blinked and felt her gut churn. That meant Jack, and if they were trying to herd them off, that meant Jack got caught. His cover was likely blown and if they were herding Donna off they were searching for his colleagues and just grabbing anyone in his past. This incarnation of the Doctor was not known - they had no pictures of her current body - and therefore wasn't suspect.

However, Donna's association with the original Doctor, her grandfather, and then that Doctor's connection to Jack had pulled her into all this.

Again.

She didn't even need to think about it as she was already pulling out her sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the nearest computer. She pressed the activator, not even checking on the setting. The computer exploded, showering everyone in sparks and computer parts. The nearest agent and the wall were showered with bits of hot metal and plastic and he screamed as he attempted to put out the very sticky and hot parts stuck to his suit and some of his exposed skin.

The Doctor grabbed Donna's hand and pulled her along, only sparing a moment to say, "Run!"

The distraction caused the agents to be stunned and confused, so they didn't react right away. By that time Donna and the Doctor had already made their way to the opposite side of the floor and to the stairs. There was a shout, "She's in on it too!"

By the time the agents looked, the door was already closing and the Doctor soniced it so that it fused closed. "Oi! Wait a minute!" demanded Donna and the Doctor stopped midway down the flight of stairs. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Donna, trust me right now, you need to run. Come with me, I have friends that can get you home where you're safe and they'll keep those away from you."

"Why does this seem familiar?" Donna's demand turned into an alarmed moan as she clutched at her head. "It's like I... I've done this before but I know I haven't."

The Doctor stepped back up to the stairs just as Donna straightened with a grin on her face. "But damn it all if I don't love it anyway. Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Susan Foreman-Campbell," answered the Doctor. "I'm known by other names, and I'll be glad to explain later, but right now we need to get the hell out of here."

"I remember something about a Susan, but I can't... just can't put my finger on it," whispered Donna as she followed the Doctor, and then she clutched the Doctor's arm to the point of pain. "Why can't I remember?"

"Donna, don't even try," begged the Doctor. "Please... for your own sake... don't even try. I promise I'll get you out of this." Susan took out her phone, soniced it, and called Torchwood. The answer was almost immediate on that number. "This is the Doctor, Jack's cover has been blown and in the process so was mine. We have collateral damage and it needs containing."

After a short confirmation, the Doctor hung up the phone while Donna grinned as she followed her down the stairs. "You're some sort of secret agent, aren't you?"

"Something like that," answered the Doctor, drily.

Claude stood up as one of his people came in with a slip of paper. He looked over at Alistair and Thomson. "I'm sorry, this is something that we need to look into. Can you excuse me for a second?"

Both Alistair and Thomson thinned their eyes in suspicion. Thomson held out her hand and gave the assistant her card. "Keep me in the loop, Director Vaillieux."

"Of course," he said, but thought, Like hell I will unless I really have to...

Alistair stayed a moment longer than he did and Claude said simply, "Have your people ready to move. We have the target that needs raiding."

The Doctor and Donna managed to snake their way out to the parking garage and then to safety. Donna turned and said, "Jack was assigned to a new location. It's only a block from here."

"Yes, I know, Donna, and thank you... but you need to run now. Take this and call UNIT. They can help you."

"You are some sort of secret agent, but I expected for some sort of enemy, not the government itself."

The Doctor smiled sadly. "Oh Donna... just go."

"You know how to get to the place on your own, Sunshine?" asked Donna suddenly.

"I figured I'd find the place by using my sonic..."

"Don't be such a dunce, Secret Agent Girl," said Donna in exasperation. "Listen, I've been here longer than you and I've worked in both places. Let me get you in. Then I promise I'll run. But after all this you can't just leave me out here on my own, communication device or no."

Claude walked into the situation room and then another assistant saluted. "Sir, we have new information – we got a picture of the agents that took Jack. They're Section Seven. The entire thing is a trap. There were no slaves, and if there were, Section Seven was the ones sneaking them in but the major part of the op wasn't here – this is a trap for the Doctor. Section Seven wants the Doctor and this will lead her right into the middle of it."

Claude made the snap decision as she ran out. "Call UNIT and tell them where to meet us. I'm going in personally."

Donna led her into the building and then into the room. Jack was strapped down to a chair where an unfamiliar woman stood in front of him. Jack looked like he had been beaten.

The woman was a tall, leggy, blonde woman who was smartly dressed in a black pantsuit. "Come now, Mr. Harkness, you honestly expect us to believe that you were doing this alone? Or even if not alone, that your friend the Doctor isn't here? We found the Companion, Donna Noble. I expect my people are bringing her here. Perhaps she can tell us where the Doctor is if you won't."

Donna looked at the Doctor in surprise, but the Doctor put a hand on her arm and shook her head, the meaning clear. Not now. Later.

Hands grabbed them and dragged them into the light and the woman looked over as Donna and the Doctor were pulled over. Jack closed his eyes in despair. The woman looked over at Donna. "Hello, Ms. Noble. My name is Special Agent Thomson. Where is the Doctor?"

Donna blinked and memories, at first jumbled, but then suddenly all too clear, settled in. She could feel the beginning of what felt like fire in her head, but for the moment it was distant. "He ain't here, sweetheart!" answered Donna as forcefully as she could muster.

The Doctor looked at her in surprise but then stepped forward. "I'm right here. And I'm ending this... whatever it is... what is this, anyway?"

Donna stared at her in shock. When she had heard her say she was the Doctor, she hadn't expected THE Doctor she knew and travelled with. The metacrisis that still resided in her head whispered to her what regeneration was but never did he, or she, think that he'd regenerate as a woman. And then the memories connected.

Susan Foreman-Campbell.

Of bloody course. The portion of the metacrisis that was Ten in Donna felt as if he'd been kicked in the gut. Donna could only form a shocked, "Oh," as she looked from the Doctor to Jack and back again.

Jack shrugged in that manner of his, but they noticed that the Doctor was focused on Special Agent Thomson.

When Claude arrived, he was immediately brought up to speed. There was no sign of Section Seven in or out except for the suspicious activity in the first place. He swore loudly and then noticed a nondescript car pull up and an older man get out. He was dressed in a black suit and he walked over. "Good day, Director. My name is Special Agent Canton Delaware the Third, Section Seven. I'm your liaison... something happened... it's Thomson isn't it. Listen, she lied to you. She went rogue with a few others a few months back and we've just caught up with her now."

Claude swore again, loudly, and using some words in Gallifreyan this time. "We have some of our people in there and we're going in to retrieve them. The whole op went sideways and you tell me this now?"

"I'm sorry, sir, to tell the truth we trained her a bit too well. We did send her as liaison, since we was already here, but when our intelligence gathered why you would need a liaison we put two and two together. I came here from our HQ directly as fast as I could to personally apologize and offer aid, if you'll have us."

"Absolutely not!" roared Claude as he turned back to the man, then calmed himself. "I do not blame you personally for this, but seeing as we are already cleaning up your mess on Canadian soil, the least you could do is leave us to it. When we apprehend her, and any accomplices, who surrender or survive, we will allow you to file for extradition. Nothing else."

"Understandable, Director," said Canton. "The least I can offer is her personnel file and those of the people within. That way you know where to strike and how she'll react."

This calmed down Claude considerably and he accepted the files. "Thank you, Special Agent Delaware."

"No, thank you, sir."

"You may stay here on the perimeter, if you wish," he said. "No more than that... as the liaison."

Claude continued to put on the body armour and picked up a sidearm, and led one of the teams in himself, against the pleas of his assistant. "Sir, this is highly irregular," she stated.

"Not really," said Claude. "I have field experience as well as administrative. That's why I was picked. Given the profile of the case, it's not irregular at all."

The assistant sighed and conceded the point.

ACT SIX

The Doctor was now in the same chair that Jack had occupied. Jack and Donna were now cuffed to the front crash bars on top of the bumper of the black SUV. The sonic screwdriver sat on a crate out of reach of the Doctor or Jack, or even Donna.

One of the agents, which was more of a scientist, was forcing her to give up samples. When she refused, they beat her. Jack winced as if each blow on the Doctor was actually one to him. This amused Thomson. "Oh, isn't this sweet. The boyfriend and girlfriend act wasn't an act. A regular Mr. and Mrs. Smith, aren't you," she crooned sarcastically.

The Doctor opened one eye, the other swollen shut from the beatings. She felt groggy from everything, and the pain was confusing. "Just let Donna go," she pleaded.

"Ma'am, we can learn more at the lab," said the scientist as he took another tissue sample, ignoring the Doctor's yelp of pain. "The hard part will be smuggling her out."

"Kill the other woman... and... oh... let's take a page from the others in England. Kill Harkness and encase him in cement," she ordered the others, ignoring the look of alarm on Jack's face.

Claude watched the whole thing, his stomach doing flips. He could hear the Doctor pleading for Thomson to just let Donna go, and he saw Jack and the red headed woman cuffed to the crash bars on the SUV.

Jack looked beat up, but not nearly as bad, or as out of it, as the Doctor was. There was quiet orders given and then Claude heard in his earpiece, "All units in place, sir. Awaiting orders."

Claude gave the order to strike.

There was a distant pop and glass shattered. The scientist's head exploded out the one side as the sniper shot him through the head. Blood splattered everywhere, some of it getting on the too groggy Doctor who seemed only peripherally aware of what was going on and was still pleading for Donna's life.

Thomson took cover and, hearing the Doctor, took a moment, aimed and then shot the Doctor to silence her. The Doctor fell silent with a groan, falling limply forward as she passed out. Her binds and the chair prevented her from falling to the floor, but there was no way to tell if she was alive or dead.

Thomson was about to shoot Donna too, but in the brief moment of time that it took for Thomson to shoot the Doctor, Claude was already moving. He jumped forward and knocked Donna out of the way, and her head connected with the steel of the crash bars, knocking her completely unconscious.

Claude wrestled desperately for the gun as the others swarmed in. Jack watched as Torchwood swept in and took down the ones who shot back. He tried to get to the Doctor, to protect her or knock her over so she was a smaller, and less likely to hit, target, but he was firmly cuffed and she was out of reach of either hands or feet.

A gun went off close by and Jack jumped at the sound. Claude stepped back, clutching as his throat as the the bullet from Thomson's gun sank into the one area not protected by armour. The man fell to his knees, choking on his blood and his ruined windpipe.

However, now Thomson was in the open.

Another distant pop signified the shot of the sniper rifle and there was a spray of blood on the hood of the SUV as Thomson slid down the side of the truck... dead...

Claude collapsed down beside Donna, and Jack tried to also get to him. There was, however, nothing he could do as he watched the man in his death throes. "No..." breathed Jack. "Man down!"

Claude rolled over at the sound of Jack's voice, and then... and perhaps it was the approaching burn of regeneration that made him see it... he looked at Donna and what was held within. A... a metacrisis? Time Lord in a human? It wasn't possible. Moreover, if left the way it was she'd surely die.

Claude pulled Donna close and she woke up to the feel of his lips on hers. She widened her eyes, about to push him away when the metacrisis in her woke completely. She felt like she was on fire and that fire called another.

The world erupted in gold fire.

Jack struggled to get away from the sudden, and surprise regeneration that just happened not two feet away from him. He could see that it was Director that had initiated it. But that could only mean that he was a Time Lord... Jack grinned and then laughed out right.

The Doctor picked this moment to wake up and she looked, groggily towards the not only bright explosion of light, but also very sharp explosion of psychic energy. She blinked in shock and horror.

She wasn't the only one. The people of Torchwood looked on with shock and horror as well, not having the benefit of knowing was going on at all.

Five minutes later, it was all over.

Donna opened her eyes and looked at the man holding her. She slapped him. "Not without asking, Sunshine!"

Then she realized what he did. She could remember everything and the burn, the pain and the instability... what had been killing her... it was gone. Donna understood, from the knowledge if not the memories from the Doctor, which were thankfully gone so that she was her own person again, what had happened. This other Time Lord had regenerated, and in using that energy, had healed the metacrisis. Had completed it.

In his death, he had given her life.

Five days later, Jack joined the other three at the rail overlooking the beach on Lake Ontario. "They swore in a new Director of Torchwood," he said, as he looked over at the new Time Lord to join them. "Seeing as Claude Vaillieux died in that warehouse."

"So he did," agreed Claude.

As normal when a Time Lord regenerated, he looked nothing like his last incarnation. "So, now I'm a free agent again. At least the change I wanted to happen did."

"That was you who changed the policy on the Doctor," realized Jack. "Who are you?"

He didn't answer but looked at the Doctor. "Didn't think we could regenerate into women."

"We can't," answered the Doctor. "I'm actually Arkytior."

"Ah, suddenly it all makes sense," he took a step back, and in a gesture which was a half bow with his right hand over the space between his two hearts. "A pleasure. I'm known as Drax."

The Doctor stared at him and then burst out laughing, before she hugged him suddenly. "I'm glad it's another of the good ones... and a close friend of my grandfather's to boot. Jack, Donna." The Doctor turned to them, but still held on to Drax's shoulder. "This is Draxnarilyn, a Time Lord of Gallifrey. And one of my grandfather's oldest friends that is still a friend. Which was why you changed the policy on the Doctor."

Drax grinned. "I couldn't let an old friend be such a large target, especially when I knew better." The grin fell off. "What happened? Where is your grandfather...?"

The smile on the Doctor's face fell, and Jack's as well. Donna and Drax picked up on the change in tone. The Doctor looked at them both. "He... he died a long time ago. I took his place. I have the TARDIS, and I am the Doctor now. For all intents and purposes. Technically, that would make me Fifteen, as I have been the Doctor for two incarnations - my last, and first one, and then this one when I regenerated - and he died in his thirteenth."

Drax looked down and away. "I am so sorry for your loss."

Donna hugged her and wiped away tears. "What do you intend on doing now?" asked the Doctor to both of them.

Drax looked around. "Well, I still have my TARDIS... although... I have no way to power it now that the Eye of Harmony is no more so I'm stuck here."

"Grandfather figured out a way to fuel the TARDIS using rift energy," said the Doctor, and she looked over at Jack, who nodded his agreement. "There is, if you want, a rift in Cardiff. Right above Torchwood Three's hub. They rebuilt it... but I suspect you know that."

Drax nodded. Jack finished, "Pete would be glad to have you. I can get him to arrange for your transport there."

"It's better than nothing I suppose."

Drax took the card and walked off. Jack and the Doctor looked at each and then at Donna. "Are you going to keep travelling?" asked the Doctor suddenly.

Donna shrugged. "I don't know. I have my memory back and now I remember everything and all I can think is about how much I've missed. Spaceboy is dead. That's... that's so hard to believe. I still miss Shaun terribly, and now I have that fresh wound to add to it. I miss my Mum and my Granddad."

"So... will you go back to travelling?" asked the Doctor pointedly.

Jack blinked, catching the meaning moments before Donna did. But when she did, she froze as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her eyes widened. "Seriously?"

The Doctor nodded, a small almost too hard to be seen nod, confirming it. "You'd never be able to stop me, Space Girl, and you'd best not try it!"

They walked away, the three of them, down the boardwalk.

Moments later the sound of the TARDIS dematerializing was heard. Drax looked up at the sound and smiled.

"Cardiff, eh? Bet I can get up to trouble there just as easily..."

THE END OF SEASON ONE

Holy moly, I finished it! One entire season, with a special... ha!

And you can look up the locations mentioned in this chapter. They exist, and in the locations indicated. However, any people I mentioned that already don't belong to the DW/TW universe likely don't. I made them up.

If anyone has found this cool enough that they like the idea well enough to write fic based off the concept, go ahead. I'd love to see how else the same concept could be taken.