This is the final chapter. (Done at last!) You may think it should go on some more, but I have author's notes at the end suggesting a possible sequel later. For now, this is it. Hope you like it!

The Doctor knew he was running out of time. He had done something for almost everyone… but not Jack.

It took a little nosing around, but he managed to find the intergalactic space bar where Jack was hanging out sometime after the defeat of the Four Five Six. He watched his friend from a distance. Jack looked tired, depressed, uninterested in his drink… and in need of a one-night stand.

Much as the Doctor ordinarily disapproved of Jack's cavalier behavior, it was the only thing he could think of that might pick him up—though he definitely wasn't volunteering for the job. He scanned the bar for a likely prospect… and spied Alonso Frame.

It was a long shot—he wasn't sure of Alonso's orientation. But he knew Alonso was at least friendly, and Jack could be very persuasive. He fished a scrap of paper from a pocket and scribbled a quick note.

"HIS NAME IS ALONSO"

When a waiter gave the note to Jack, their eyes met. Jack looked a little further gone than the Doctor had first thought—he looked like he wasn't understanding the message and would rather cross the room to talk to the Doctor.

The Doctor nodded toward Jack's left, and Jack followed his gaze. Then Jack looked back at the Doctor as if to say, "So? Why don't you come introduce us? Ohhhh…."

The Doctor gave Jack a subtle salute, to make it clear that that was all the communication he intended to deliver just now. Jack saluted him in return, with such obvious regard that the Doctor felt his stomach twist. Would he remember everything clearly after he had regenerated? Would he still be angry with Jack? Or would he remember Jack, but not the argument?

He headed for the exit, puzzling over the hundred thousand questions burning in his mind. His last glimpse of Jack showed the new acquaintances smiling flirtatiously at each other. Mission accomplished.

He could see the red-gold glow of energy around his hand. It was time. It was past time. He'd held it back as long as he possibly could; much longer than he'd managed to the last time. Solemnly, he set the Tardis in motion. He'd said goodbye to everyone in the only way he knew how. He knew he wanted to be near the Earth when he was reborn, but not in the same time and place as any of the friends he knew. He would orbit the earth until it was over, and then make his decision after. Perhaps the new Doctor would have some ideas.

He stood in front of the controls and waited as the glowing grew brighter around his face and hands. He felt the now-familiar tingling sensation as millions of cells began their change of identity. His breathing rate increased.

It's time. Time to face it. It will be all right. But don't stop thinking just yet—remember! Remember everyone. Don't forget. Rose and Donna and Martha and Jack! Tears welled up in his eyes. Rose and Jack! Don't forget them… Oh, god, really? Now?

"I don't wanna go," he cried, knowing that there was no one to hear him—no one but the Tardis.

As the transforming energy exploded, the Tardis ignited with him. A part of the ship was gone forever, too, and it was being reborn. The last transition had been smooth compared with this. Before, the Doctor had absorbed the vortex, and he had had to change. He was safe. He was almost happy, considering the danger they had just escaped, Rose and him.

But now he was in agony. It was one of the best chapters of his life closing behind him. The Tardis reflected the difference much more visibly than the Doctor did.

It didn't hurt, really. It felt a little funny. A little like eating something you didn't really care for because you were starving. A little like waking up in the morning after a refreshing sleep. A little like waking up in the wrong bed.

"Legs!" It was the first thing he thought of, and it seemed a good start, so he went on assessing until he realized that he was…

"CRASHING! I'm crashing!"

Amy and Rory were doing fine. He'd agreed to come back, but it was time for them to have some semblance of a settled life while he did a little traveling on his own.

The Doctor grinned at the viewing screen where he could see his companions waving goodbye.

"Now… where was I going to go? When I was on my own, I was going to…" he looked around. "Is it just me, or are the auxiliary lights a bit dim in here? Best go to Cardiff and charge up the… OH! Cardiff!"

It wasn't that he'd forgotten Jack existed. It was just that Jack seemed like part of a different life. He didn't see that set of friends anymore—he'd sort of put them on hold while he made new friends.

"Yes… Cardiff. No matter what time I show up, he'll be there. If he has to wait a thousand years, he will be." Or THIRTY years. "Good heavens, I was supposed to see him every two years. Now, I'll need to—no, wait, that's done. It was after the thirty years." He tapped his head and tugged at his hair, thinking wildly. "It was the day after we got back, yes. That's when I was supposed to see him."

He couldn't quite remember why, but he was sure when he saw Jack, it would come back to him.

Jack waited in silence. He'd made sure the members of Torchwood had places to be, tasks to accomplish. If the Doctor showed up, he didn't want them to witness the reunion. If he didn't show up, Jack didn't want them wondering what he was waiting for.

He'd had a light breakfast, but it was past two now, and he was beginning to regret not eating lunch. He won't come, he told himself. Even if he did, he'd be here longer than it would take to go get something to eat.

Still, he waited. And waited.

And then he heard the whir of the Tardis materializing.

He came. He really came. Jack struggled to keep his hopes from rising too quickly. Could he forgive me? Even so, he won't take me with him after that… He just needs to power up the Tardis…

The box became opaque before him and the doors opened slowly. Then, out stumbled a gangly figure Jack didn't recognize.

"Aha ha!" the figure laughed. "Perfect landing. Perfect landing." He patted the Tardis. "Knew right where we were going, didn't you, old thing? Lovely!" He turned to meet Jack's gaze and his expression sobered.

Jack looked him over uncertainly. Brown hair… limp and fine instead of fluffy-spiky. A longer, more rounded face. A brown suit adorned with a bowtie. He was too tall. Too…

"Jack."

Jack caught his breath. He stepped toward the stranger, searching his eyes. Those eyes were not the comforting warmth of brown sugar that Jack hadn't realized he missed until now. They were cool and glittering, like gems reflecting the ocean.

"Is it you?" he asked at last, hating that he wasn't sure.

"Course it's me," the Doctor said, pulling out his sonic screwdriver, tossing it and catching it high in the air. "Whom were you expecting—Father Christmas?"

This sarcasm was off. The Doctor could be sarcastic, of course, but this wasn't his style. Even the screwdriver looked different. The Tardis was the wrong shade of blue. This felt like an imposter. Jack took another step closer, not knowing what to say.

"You like my tie?" the Doctor asked carelessly. "Bowties are cool. You know, it was Alice told me that… Alice, your daughter. Your family. Alice."

He's completely different. He's gone. I can't recognize him at all—but it's him. The reference to family had clinched it. He was showing that he remembered the last thing they had discussed. Jack was breathing very hard now. "Doctor," he said, his voice strained. "I… I'm so sorry…"

"Shh," the Doctor interrupted him. "Shush, shush, shush. You know I've already forgiven you or I wouldn't be here." He held out a hand.

Jack bypassed the hand and wrapped the Doctor in his arms. "I didn't mean to hurt you like that—you're my best friend," Jack sobbed. "I hate myself for it."

"Always talking about yourself, Jack. You haven't changed a bit," the Doctor chided. But his voice was soft now, and his hands were moving up to hold Jack in a gentle embrace. "You're forgiven. You don't need to go on apologizing. 'Sides," he added a little louder, "I remember everything, now. You said you wanted to take it back the moment I left, isn't that right? And I know it's true, 'cause I had Martin spy on you. Don't be cross with Martin. He did it for your own good."

Relief and confusion had reduced Jack to a mess of hot tears. Being forgiven was good, but he wasn't sure his old friend—his Doctor—was the one who had forgiven him. "Doctor," he whispered, just to get a response.

"It's all right, Jack," the Doctor answered. He ran his hand through Jack's short hair. "Trust me. I'm the Doctor."

"You're so different," Jack muttered into his neck.

"Only to be expected."

"You even smell different."

"You don't. And that's not a bad thing, mind."

Jack choked out a laugh. Then he tightened his grip. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Well… it has been rather a long time," the Doctor admitted, pulling back so they could look at each other again. "I'm a couple of years older now."

"Years?"

"That's right. I've had to transition too, you know. As you say, I'm very different. I had to get to know myself. This time round, I wanted to do that with strangers." The Doctor shrugged. "You never know how these things are going to go."

Jack tentatively brushed the Doctor's bangs back and ran his fingers down that soft, foreign face.

"Still not ginger," the Doctor said in an apologetic tone.

Jack laughed again. "Have you been holding out for ginger?"

"Well, I always have a little hope."

"I see."

"Oh, great scot, there's Mary Burrows!"

Jack turned to look, and sure enough, there was the woman herself. Observing him once again beside a blue archaic police box. And once again in the arms of another man.

She arched an eyebrow at them when she knew she'd been spotted, and she looked as if she wanted to laugh but wasn't sure it would be appropriate.

Jack released his death-grip on the Doctor and stepped back slowly, wiping the half-dried tears off his face. "No one's in the hub, Mary," he called to her.

"Well, I just came to drop this off," she answered, walking toward them and holding out a file folder to Jack. "Who's your friend?"

"I'm the Doctor. Pleased to meet you again."

She blinked in puzzlement. "But… you're not the same man…"

"No, quite right. Quite right. But I am the same person. Or perhaps the other way round."

Jack couldn't help grinning. His relief was leaving him somewhat giddy. He felt his core shivering from post-shock adrenaline as he exhaled. "Don't worry about it, Mary," he said. "It'll only confuse you."

"Are you all right?" Mary asked, obviously noticing his trembling.

"Yeah," he assured her. "I'm fine. Great."

Her concern satisfied far more than her curiosity, Mary left them.

"Nice woman," the Doctor commented. "Now… once the Tardis is up to par, do you think you'd like to come along?"

A fresh wave of shock washed over Jack. "I… I don't know. I thought…" Get a grip, he told himself. This is what you wanted. But… I don't deserve it. "How long do you think it will be?"

"A few hours, maybe? I could wait until tomorrow. Give you a chance to set things in order and say your farewells."

Jack licked his lips. I want to. But something's bound to go wrong. "Doctor—I love you," he said frankly, bracing himself for whatever the reaction might be.

"I've always known that, Jack. I'm terribly sorry about it. It will make things awkward and difficult, to be sure, but I think I can bear up if you can," the Doctor said, much more objectively than he would have done before his regeneration. "And—I've got a cryogenic freezer in the Tardis now. So either way, I'll be taking the Master."

Jack's head snapped up. He knew then that he had to go. Because there was no way in hell he was going to let the Doctor put himself in the danger of the Master's company without anyone to back him up. He also knew that after all the trouble he'd gone through to help the Doctor obtain the Master's body, there was no way in hell he'd let him have all the excitement.

"Is there room for Gray in that freezer, too?"

"And to spare."

Jack nodded. "Then I guess…" he hesitated, looking at the folder Mary had given him. Can they handle this without me? Will I regret leaving them?

"If you're worried about your team," the Doctor said lazily, as if he'd read Jack's thoughts, "I think I have a solution."

He tossed an object toward Jack, and at first Jack thought it was the sonic screwdriver. But when he opened his hand, he realized what it was: the puzzle the Doctor had given to Steven so many years ago.

"They can get hold of us in the Tardis any time, any place with that one-use distress call." The Doctor smiled a crooked smile. "Come on-I'm your 'best friend.' How about it?"

The shock adrenaline was wearing off, only to be replaced by the tingle of excitement. Jack closed his hand around the puzzle. "I'm in."

THE END

Author's note: I know you are probably thinking, What happens if/when they wake up the Master/Gray/both? Well, that's a whole other can of worms that is more than enough material for a substantial sequel, so I may write another one later.

Here's the thing: Fun as the 11th Doctor is, I'd much rather write Ten. So if/when I write a sequel, I may alter the details a little so that the Doctor doesn't have to regenerate after all. Then we can have another fun Jack/Ten adventure. But by all means, leave your opinion/preference in your review. :)