Just a one-shot idea that popped into my head recently. Enjoy!


The Thief


Donmartio Bettolo was not normally the type of man to drown his sorrows in a good bottle of Saskian Ale, but it was with a heart heavier than lead that he entered the Starbright Diner late that evening. He was lost, completely lost, uncertain and without hope like a sailor stranded at sea. His entire world was about to collapse and there wasn't a single person living in the sector who could help him, especially since he'd been forbidden to talk about it. There was nothing left to do except count down the hours, and nothing quite soothed the ticking of the clock like an alcoholic beverage.

His communicator beeped a few times and he checked it eagerly; it was just white noise. To be expected, really. It was on an impulse that he'd broadcasted the words "help me" on a few subspace frequencies he knew only a passing freighter would pick up, and the lack of response for the past few days was to be expected. Still, he'd reasoned that if he was unable to talk to anyone in the sector about this, that didn't mean he couldn't try and get hold of people outside. He knew how few people listened into those channels, but he continued to harbour a small sliver of hope that someone might just come bounding to his rescue. He couldn't give up completely - not when there was so much at stake.

Donny slumped down at the bar and even through the thick sludge of negative feelings he felt a twinge of optimism as he looked for the bartender. Anna was always wonderful conversation, especially on a miserable day like today, and he wanted to see her. They got on so well, even if he hadn't worked up the courage to ask her out on a proper date yet, and made up at least seventy percent of the reasons he frequented Starbright. Besides, he had his reasons for waiting – he was older, and he had Flia to think about.

The thought of his daughter made his insides flip uncomfortably and he cursed. This was hell.

As the barmaid for the evening finally emerged from the door to the back his spirits dropped dramatically. She was blonde, a far cry from Anna's walnut brown, and although she looked friendly enough with a bright smile and an easygoing demeanour she wasn't the face he wanted to see.

She dragged a cloth back on forth on the bar top and looked at him. "What can I get you?"

"Just a bottle of Saskian please," he replied glumly, drawing circles on a random coaster lying on the polished metal. The girl fumbled for a little bit before working out where they were kept – Donny figured she must be new. "Where's Anna?" he asked after she handed it to him.

"She's on holiday; I'm just replacin' her for a bit. I'm Lily." She smiled warmly at him.

"Donny," he said, because someone may as well know before his name was all he had left. "Did she say where she went?"

Lily shrugged. "'Far as I can tell it was pretty last minute. She won the lottery, y'know."

Donny raised his eyebrows. "That's weird," he said, "she never played. Said she hated leaving it all to chance."

"Well, you know how it is," Lily laughed, "the one time you do, yeah?"

"I wish," Donny muttered and she agreed heartily, and for a moment it was easy to forget before she moved away to serve another customer. No hope, no Flia, and no Anna. This day was just getting worse and worse.

It was just as he was thinking so that his day actually got decidedly better.

A man slid onto one of the stools beside him and although Donny tried to politely ignore him, the other man didn't seem to be returning the same courtesy as he stared scrupulously at his neighbour. Donny snuck a covert glance at the stranger and spotted wild hair and a suit and tie before quickly turning back to his Ale. He took a large gulp, but the stranger's gaze didn't waiver.

"You must be," he said suddenly, consulting some sort of device in his hand, "you are, aren't you?"

Donny blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You're the man sending out the distress signal on all those frequencies, hm?" The stranger raised his eyebrows, and for a moment Donny's heart stopped. Someone had actually been listening, someone had sought him out; dare he believe someone had come to help? He'd never expected anyone to pick up on his signal at all let alone act on it, and now he was completely at a loss of how to proceed.

"You... you got that?" he murmured.

"'Course I did!" The stranger grinned. "Always listening, me. Big ears. Although I've had bigger. Mind you, my ship's really the one you should be thanking; she's always dropping in on various channels. Thinks of herself as a huge radio, really – especially for distress signals. You could say she's got a bit of a taste for them. All I had to do was trace the signal and lo and behold, here we are."

Donny wasn't really sure what to make of this, his mouth simply opening and closing a few times in surprise.

"Now," the stranger continued, expression taking on a more serious tone, "what seems to be the problem?"

"I..." Donny floundered for a moment, lost for words. "I don't know where to start."

"Start with your name," the stranger said kindly.

He swallowed. "Donny. Donmartio Bettolo, Ollacite Industries. Who are you?"

"Did I not say?" The stranger seemed confused at this. "Sorry – I'm the Doctor."

The name struck an immediate chord with Donny; how could it not? Everyone in sector 18 knew who the Doctor was. Nearly two years ago one of the space stations that usually hovered at the lower end of the stratosphere, the Hawk's Eye, malfunctioned and was sent careening down to the surface of the planet – it was only the appearance of the strange man known to all as 'the Doctor' that had stopped it right at the last moment, or so the story went. If the Hawk's Eye had been able to complete its descent, almost everyone in the sector would've been wiped out. They owed everything to the Doctor, even if he hadn't stuck around to feel the weight of the gratitude the inhabitants felt towards him.

Donny's best friend Isabell had been on board at the time as a bridge officer, and the marvellous Doctor was all she could talk about for months; this couldn't be the same Doctor, could it?

"As in..." Donny blinked. "The Doctor?"

"The definite article, you could say."

"The Doctor who stopped the Hawk's Eye from crashing?"

"That's the one."

The Doctor gave him such a bright, reassuring smile, and his already pungent feelings of helpless meant it only took them a few more minutes of stumbling conversation while the Doctor ordered himself an Ale before the story was pouring out.

"I – It's my daughter, see. I own this company, Ollacite Industries; we're the only suppliers of Ollacitium in the sector. That's, uh, fuel. Best fuel on the continent, and I'm not exaggerating. My great grandfather built the mines for the Ollacite crystals the fuel is made from, and being his only known heir I'm the only one who has the access codes to the entrance."

He hesitated and the Doctor nodded encouragingly for him to continue.

"It's, erm, very valuable stuff. And powerful. This gang, I don't know their names except for their leader, Shax – they've been after some crystals for months. In the wrong hands they could blow this entire planet to kingdom come." Donny took another large gulp of his Ale. "They took my little girl," his eyes dropped to the swirling liquid, trying to stop his bottom lip from trembling. "They took my Flia and they won't give her back unless I give them all my Ollacite by next week."

He simply stared forlornly for a moment, lost in his misery – how could he, an upstanding citizen, hand over something that could easily be used as a weapon of mass destruction even if it meant saving his daughter's life?

"They said if I told the authorities they'd kill her. But you – you're the Doctor. You saved the whole sector before. Is there – is there anything you can do?" He looked almost fearfully up at the other man.

The Doctor took a deep breath. "Oh, there's a lot I can do, believe me. A lot. I don't take kindly to good men being threatened." A cold sort of anger could be seen in his eyes then. That reassured Donny just a little bit – Shax meant business, but the Doctor was a legend. As far as he knew, not a force to be trifled with. Maybe there was hope after all.

"Let me do some investigating of my own. Meet me back here tomorrow morning, Donny – we're going to sort this out. We're going to rescue your daughter."


The next morning Donny had jumped into Starbright with a spring in his step, the desolateness of his situation yesterday forgotten. The first thing he'd done after parting with the Doctor the night before was contacting Isabell and telling her who he'd run into; her ecstatic reply had increased his optimism tenfold. He'd been reminded how fantastic the Doctor was, and being the only other person Donny had spoken to in confidence about his daughter, she reassured him the Doctor would easily be able to get her back. How could he not?

After promising his friend that she would be allowed to meet the Doctor again later that day if they had time, he'd signed off and gone to bed happier than he had in days. It was going to be alright; Flia was going to be found, and it'd all be okay.

It was early in Starbright, they'd barely opened ten minutes ago, and one of the waiters was still wiping the tops of tables and straightening chairs in preparation for the breakfast rush. Donny waved cheerfully at Lily behind the bar as he passed, spotting the Doctor already seated at a table with a blonde woman applying eye makeup that he didn't recognise.

"Ah, the man of the hour!" the Doctor stood as Donny approached. "Donny, this is my assistant Rose." Rose looked up from her small mirror and smiled dazzlingly at him. "Can't do much without her. Now, we've been doing some snooping around and we think we've worked out how we can help."

"How?" Donny asked eagerly.

"We tracked down Shax's base of operations – a couple of warehouses on the eastern outskirts of the sector. Know the ones I mean?"

"Of course. My grandfather used to store the Ollacite there before he decided it wasn't safe."

The Doctor nodded. "We have reason to believe Shax is keeping Flia there."

Donny's heart thumped loudly in his chest. "Then... do we just storm in and get her?"

"If only," Rose muttered.

"Now Rose," the Doctor gave her a reproachful look, "I don't do violence, remember? It's not how we run things, Donny. Instead we figured it might be useful to involve ourselves in a little espionage. Scope the place out; see if we can't work out where exactly she's being held. Then we'll be able to do something more."

Before Donny could reply the waiter joined them and whipped out his pad and pen. "Sirs, Madame – might I take your order?"

"We're fine, thanks," said Rose. Donny's stomach gurgled loudly and he flushed.

"Uh, what do you have in the way of pastries?"

"Hundreds," the waiter replied enthusiastically, "Danish pastries, apple pastries, Cornish pasties; well, only if you're not going anywhere important, they're murder to get out of the teeth. Crêpes, croissants – love a good croissant, me. Personally I'd recommend the banana pastry, but it's all a matter of preference of course."

Donny shrugged, aware that the Doctor and Rose were patiently awaiting his decision. "Just a Danish for me, thanks." The waiter smiled politely, jotted it down and left the table with an assurance that it wouldn't be long.

"When?" Donny asked, once he was out of earshot.

"As soon as we can," the Doctor said, "after breakfast, perhaps."

Donny thought of Isabell desperate to help and to see the Doctor again, and added "would it be alright if I brought someone else?"

The Doctor looked sceptical, but Donny reassured him it was someone useful to have around – with all of Isabell's training to become an officer she was bound to come in handy at some point. Not to mention she and the Doctor had already worked so well together in making sure the Hawk's Eye didn't destroy the sector. As he waited for his Danish pastry Donny was filled with apprehension about the day to come.

Help is on the way, Flia, he thought, Daddy's coming to get you.


"But – that's not the Doctor!" Isabell had exclaimed, to the alarm of all present.

Donny's eyes immediately shot to the man he had trusted as the four of them stood outside the entrance to Starbright, ready to set off for the suburbs of the sector. Most prominently he began to feel horror-struck; how easily he'd allowed himself to be taken in by this stranger! Now that he mentioned it, he knew next to nothing about this man who called himself the Doctor. He'd simply told Donny his name and he'd stupidly allowed him to hop right on board. It were as if the floor had come out right from under him.

"Oh no, no no no no!" the Doctor cried immediately, "regeneration – Time Lord trick. Same man, new face. Still me, I promise, er," his eyes zeroed on her nametag, "Officer Hambilton." He held out a hand for her to shake.

Isabell looked back at him suspiciously, but she did remember him mentioning either that or a similar process in those few hours they spent together trying desperately to stop the descent of the Hawk's Eye. She couldn't help it, this wasn't the man she remembered – she remembered charm and wit and a mouth full of perfect teeth. The charm was nearly there, certainly, but it wasn't quite there. She didn't know how to explain it.

"You always call me Isabell," she said finally, watching him critically.

"'Course I do!" The Doctor grinned. "But you know me, sucker for a girl in uniform." His wink made her blush as Rose rolled her eyes.

"Doctor, we're wasting time. The girl?"

Remembering himself, the Doctor nodded. "Nice to see you again, Isabell, but we've got a job to do." Donny couldn't agree more.

They used his hovercar to get to the other end of the sector, saving them a good forty-five minutes on foot. The journey was mostly spent with the Doctor and Rose explaining all they could remember about Shax's warehouse, and reminiscing about time spent on the Hawk's Eye. Rose was eagerly drilling Isabell for all the details the Doctor had apparently withheld ("I don't like talking about the past!") and Isabell was only too happy to oblige. The stories were all familiar to Donny by now, though, and he paid the conversation little no mind and focused on the road. And Flia. They were finally getting somewhere.

Just as the larger familiar buildings of most of the sector were beginning to recede and become more sparsely placed he knew they were getting closer, and the landmark vibrant colours of the centre of the city faded into ghostly greys and washed out browns. Houses gave way to rusty warehouses and sinister steel cargo containers, and as the road started to peter out Donny listened to the instructions from the Doctor to lead them to Shax's warehouse.

They finally pulled up outside one of the warehouses, as dark and menacing as any of the others and only distinguishable by the dripping painted 'S' on the front of it. Well, something Donny hoped was paint. Grime and rust crawled up the walls like a starved creature, and the dirt clung to every surface the eye could see. Although his heart was thumping with trepidation, Donny's blood boiled at the idea that his daughter had spent any amount of time in here.

"Come on," the Doctor said grimly, patting him on the shoulder and heading for the door, "we need to get inside."

Their entry was restricted by a huge lock – old fashioned, by the looks of it, the like that could be opened with a metal key. Or, as he was about to discover, picked by a hair clip. Rose removed a pin from her hair delicately with a grin, and crouched down in front of the lock.

"What about your sonic screwdriver?" Isabell asked bemusedly.

The Doctor waved a hand. "I lost that old thing years ago. Sad, but we get by without it, don't we Rose?"

"You betcha!" she laughed from where she was sitting.

A few moments later with a satisfying click, the lock jumped apart and the door began to swing open.

"Remember," the Doctor warned, "this is just spying. We don't want to attract any unwanted attention until we know for certain what we're doing next." The other three nodded, and he pulled the door out further so they could all get through. "Good luck."

Donny had been imagining one huge room to be on the other side of the steel entrance; a few swinging light bulbs and maybe a couple of chains hanging from the ceiling - just what he expected from a building belonging to a man like Shax - but in actuality the door revealed a long corridor spanning across their path from the left to the right, before turning in identical corners when it reached the respective edge of the building.

"We better split up," said Rose, but the thought made Donny uneasy. The building was already eerie with flickering electronic lights dangling precariously from the ceiling (at least he'd anticipated that), and the thought of being on his own in the grimy corridors sent shivers rolling up his spine.

The Doctor, however, nodded in agreement. "Isabell, with me – Donny, you look after Rose. Meet back here in twenty minutes. Don't dawdle. We don't want to be losing anyone else." Donny felt even more nervous as the Doctor nodded at Isabell and they took off to the right, leaving the left for him and Rose. It wasn't like he didn't trust her, any assistant of the Doctor deserved complete confidence, it was just that he felt that much safer with the Doctor around. He felt reassured, like someone was taking charge of the situation in a way he hadn't been able to.

His desire to look for Flia won out, though, and he followed Rose around the corner. It led to another myriad of forking corridors, and after a brief moment of contemplation they selected the centre one and headed inside.

They walked in silence most of the way, until Rose spoke up. "We're going to find her, Donny." Donny gave her a side-along look. "Don't worry. If anyone can do it the Doctor can."

"I know," Donny said, "he's the Doctor. People round here figure he can do anything."

"Really?" Rose asked, intrigued.

"Yeah. We were in the middle of a full-scale evacuation of the entire sector when the Hawk's Eye started to go down. Said there was nothing on the whole planet that could stop it, and then he was there."

She smiled affectionately. "He does that."

Donny nodded. Quiet descended on them once more as a door appeared at the end of the corridor. He couldn't help it, his heart began to race just at the idea that Flia might be behind it – what could Shax have done to her already?

"She's only six," Donny said suddenly, feeling the weight of this information and a compulsion to get rid of it. "Only just. Ever since her mother... I promised I'd protect her."

"This isn't your fault, okay?" Rose replied sternly as they neared the door. "You're going to get her back." Once they reached the slightly darkly tinted glass on the door, the pair of them peered inside – and nearly jumped back in shock as two hard eyes stared back at them. The eyes widened in alarm and in a moment the door was flung open.

"Intruders!" yelled the owner of the eyes, a burly man Donny and Rose didn't like the look of..

They shared a meaningful look. "Run!" Rose shouted, and they turned tail and bolted.

The problem with the twisting and turning nature of the warehouse was that it was difficult to figure out where they'd been before; retracing their steps was proving hard, and Donny wasn't built for this. It was only the adrenaline pumping through his system and the genuine fear for his life that kept him running – this wasn't an empty warehouse at all. There were a multitude of footsteps behind them signalling far too many pursuers, and gaining. Donny remained three steps ahead of Rose, which was probably why he didn't realise what had happened until she screamed.

Donny whirled around only to see Rose thrashing against the grip of two men, trying to kick them and wrench herself free. He couldn't help it – he froze. He'd never been involved with a life or death situation before, and the idea of throwing himself into the fray filled his veins with an icy fear. Instead he stood rooted to the spot, unable to think of how to help as Rose as she was hauled away.

"Wait!" he called, far too late. He started to jog in the direction they came from, but found when he turned a corner he couldn't work out from her echoing yelps and their grunts which of the corridors they decided to take.

"Rose!" came a shout from behind him, and Donny turned to see the Doctor and Isabell pelting towards him. "Where's Rose?" the Doctor demanded on not immediately seeing her.

"I – they – they took her, I'm so sorry Doctor! I didn't know what to do!"

The Doctor barely spared him a glance.

"Which corridor did they take?"

"I didn't – I don't –"

"Tell me!"

"I have no idea, I'm sorry!" Donny shrank back, fearful of the thunder he saw in the Doctor's eyes.

"The way we came in is just round that corner – Isabell, take him back to the hovercar and wait for me there. If I'm not back in fifteen minutes go without me."

Isabell swallowed. "What are you going to do?"

"Oh, I think the question is what won't I do. If they've got Rose then they've got me to answer to."

Without a word he took off into one of the tunnels. Donny was mute with shock as Isabell grabbed his hand and tugged him back towards the entrance – none of her officer training had prepared her for this. Trying to get to know a completely different Doctor while her best friend looked like he might drop to the floor at any moment was not how she envisioned this afternoon going. They sat in the hovercar in the midst of occasional tense conversation, Isabell trying to discern details about what had happened from Donny as he continued to berate himself for his lack of action. But no matter how many times he tried to convince himself he could've thrown a punch or two, his rational mind argued that he would've been knocked out in seconds. His sense of self-preservation had been too strong to try and help Rose; that thought alone made him feel ill, especially after all she and the Doctor were trying to do for him.

He wasn't brave like them; he was just an ordinary bloke.

Oh, Flia.

The Doctor didn't emerge once the fifteen minutes were up. They stretched it to twenty. At twenty-five they were starting to feel terribly uneasy, fearing the Doctor had met the same fate as Rose and even Flia, carted off by strange men into some deeper area of the warehouse. It was just as the clock hit thirty-one minutes and they were beginning to contemplate doing as the Doctor asked and simply driving away, when the door to the warehouse opened.

The Doctor poked his head out, but only for a second. He gave them a grim thumbs up and waved his hand in a way that indicated he wanted them to go. Lifting a finger to his lips he silenced any questions or protests, and tapped his wrist once before returning and shutting the door once more. Donny suspected that was him pointing at an invisible watch meaning he would explain later – or so he hoped.

Still, they did as they were asked and drove away, and didn't see the Doctor again until late that evening.


"We're closing up soon," the waiter from that morning pointed out unhelpfully as he began to upturn chairs and place them on tabletops. Starbright was the only place Donny knew to wait for the Doctor, and he had been diligently nursing the same drink for almost an hour now. Isabell had long since gone home, with a family of her own to care for, but someone had to wait for the elusive Time Lord. Donny had ended up being the last man left in the Diner.

He nodded absently. "He'll be here soon," he said, and he was wondering if he was informing the waiter or trying to reassure himself.

"No offence, but I think you've been stood up."

"Don't be rude!" Lily chastised from the bar a few tables away. "Honestly. Sorry, Donny."

Donny simply shrugged in response, too worried to bother about it. Unfortunately, as the waiter began wiping the next table over, he seemed pretty keen on conversation.

"So what's going on with you, anyway?" he asked casually. "You're in here for every meal, and you don't look like the type to be a regular. Well," the waiter amended, "that's assuming I know what a regular looks like. I'm new. And even then, that's assuming a regular possesses a certain countenance. I suppose you would get some kind of look about you if you spent every day in a Diner, am I right?"

Donny didn't really know.

"Maybe I've got a look," the waiter mused, "seeing as I'm in here every day too. Lily – have I got a look?"

"You've got plenty," Lily called back, "none of 'em pretty."

Donny sighed. "Sorry, I know you probably want to talk, but I'd really just rather be on my own right now." It wasn't that the waiter was particularly bothersome, just chatty.

The waiter sniffed. "You just looked like you could do with some cheering up, is all."

"Well I appreciate the thought," Donny paused to lean forward and read the waiter's name tag, "John, but I can't really... talk about it." Even with the Doctor on his side – who, really, may or may not be alright – Shax's threats still echoed in his ear. Best not tell anyone else.

"You could... talk around it?" the waiter, John, suggested gently, as he lifted another chair after finishing wiping the surface. "I'm a good listener once my gob's shut, promise."

Although maybe – maybe it would be nice to unload something. "Do you remember... that man, two or three years ago, the one who stopped the Hawk's Eye from destroying the sector?"

John scratched his ear thoughtfully. "The, uh, Physician, wasn't it?"

"The Doctor."

"'Course, that's right. The Doctor. My mistake."

"Let's just say I'm... in a tight spot, and the Doctor's going to help me. Once he gets here. It's all going to be alright."

John raised an eyebrow before dragging the cloth back and forth on the next table. "Sounds a little too good to be true, if you ask me."

"He's a good man," Donny defended indignantly, "he's already done so much for me." He'd brought him hope again. John looked at him with a strange mixture of thoughtfulness and compassion.

"Well, if you say so. I hope it all works out."

Before Donny could say anything more the door to Starbright tinkled to signify someone entering, and the man himself stepped inside.

"Doctor!" Donny cried, relief coursing through him.

John bowed his head respectfully, reminded them that the Diner would be closing in a matter of minutes, and departed for the kitchen to give them some privacy. When the Doctor sat down looking exhausted, wearily straightening out his suit it took all Donny had not to completely bombard him with questions.

"What happened?" He settled for. "At the warehouse, what happened? Where's Rose?" Her lack of appearance was poignant and made him feel sick inside – it was his fault, after all. He should have done something.

The Doctor sighed heavily, and Donny noticed how he hunched over a little as he sat as if he were in pain. "I met Shax. I was trying to do some negotiating on your behalf for Flia – I'm not sure it worked." His expression darkened. "They took Rose for 'insurance'."

"Of what?"

"That I'll follow through," the Doctor said. "I need the access codes to the Ollacite mines."

Donny blinked, aghast. Giving Shax the access codes was exactly what they were trying to prevent.

"Tomorrow I'm going to give them to him to get Rose and Flia back. But I promise you, I have a plan – Shax won't be getting his hands on any crystals on my account."

No one outside of Donny's family had ever been given the codes to the entry of the mines before now, and he was reluctant to be the first to break that tradition. The reason their security was so tight was because Ollacite Industries had a strictly no tolerance policy on sharing family secrets; but surely, this was the Doctor. And Flia's life was at stake, for goodness sake.

"I – couldn't I come with you?" That way he wouldn't need to give the codes over.

"Too dangerous," the Doctor retorted sharply, "I won't let you."

That threw somewhat of a spanner in that idea. "Is there no other way?" he asked uncertainly.

The Doctor stared at him intensely, his blue eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "Do you trust me, Donny?"

"Yes," he parroted without hesitation.

"Then please, let me have the codes. Once I've got Shax in the mines I know exactly what to do with him to finish this once and for all." His tone was gentle and reassuring, everything about the Doctor that Donny had been stumbling towards for the last few days summed up beautifully in a small question of trust. Donny had been floundering, lost without him – now someone was taking control. He had to remember all the Doctor was sacrificing, all he'd lost already; Rose included. He owed this man so much, and implicit faith was the least he could offer in return.

Without a word he took a napkin from the centre of the table and lifted a pen from his pocket, jotting down the codes while the Doctor watched. Donny shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny; there was a strange look in the man's eyes that he didn't like as he stared at the swift movement of the pen across the cloth. The scrawl was messy (barely anyone wrote things these days, but he couldn't afford for the codes to fall into the wrong hands), but still he hesitantly handed it over. The Doctor swiped the napkin from his grasp and slid it into his pocket.

"Are you going to kill Shax?" Donny asked, not sure whether there was hope or horror behind the question.

The Doctor didn't say anything and got to his feet. "I'm fixing it, Donny. Don't worry." He took a deep breath and straightened his suit. "Meet me back here tomorrow evening; you can buy as both some Saskian Ale because I can guarantee we'll have something to celebrate."

A moment later John returned and ushered them towards the exit, citing the official end of the Starbright day. Donny paused only to wave at Lily, whose tongue poked out between her teeth as she grinned back.


Donny had barely been able to contain himself all day – it was a good thing he'd had the sense to take a week's leave from work once the situation with Flia arose, because he wouldn't have been able to focus on a thing. Torn between hopeful satisfaction that everything would finally be resolved and wracking nerves that it'd all go horribly wrong he tried to divert his attention to other things. He spent an hour or so cleaning Flia's room in preparation for her return, went to the market and bought all of the ingredients to make her favourite meal, and a few trinkets he thought the Doctor might like to pay him back. He didn't have that much money, but he needed to do something to show his thanks.

The codes to the Ollacite mines were in the Doctor's hands. As he tottered around doing menial everyday tasks there could well be a showdown happening between Shax and the Doctor as the Time Lord fought for his daughter's life and his livelihood, all the while trying to stop a notorious convict from digging his dew claws into the largest concentrated source of power in the whole sector. Possibly even the planet.

It was impossible not to be nervous. Still, Donny did his best.

He bothered Isabell for a couple of hours too, trailing around after her at work and abrading her patience with worries about what he might find that evening and praises for the Doctor's bravery in equal measure. Apparently, after she and the Doctor had gone off by themselves to explore half of Shax's warehouse she'd been suitably disillusioned by him. The new regeneration wasn't the man she remembered, and she wasn't quite as taken with the alien as she had been years before with the Hawk's Eye fiasco.

"There's just something not right," she'd said, "something's not the same and I don't like it."

Sometime later she eventually threw Donny out of her office lest he have her crawling up the walls in an attempt to escape him – he wasn't sure how time managed to pass from then to the evening, but soon enough he was almost running into Starbright with his heart hammering afraid of what he might find.

Scanning the room he noted immediately that the Doctor wasn't there yet, so he went to the bar and ordered two Saskian Ales, deciding to sit at the bar which was the most prominent position in the room. That way the Doctor wouldn't miss him in the midst of the evening rush. As an afterthought he ordered a third Ale on the assumption that Rose would also be joining them for the day to have been a true success.

Time ticked by as the minutes merged into hours, and as the Diner began to clear in much the same way it had the day before and Donny's spirits began to sink. The Ales were by now flat, and after Lily politely asked him if he wanted them put back on ice for a while he'd declined, based on the assumption that they'd be here soon to pick them up.

Donny waited. The Diner emptied. And he waited.

The Doctor never came.

"Donny." A hesitant voice jerked him from his reverie and he looked up into the concerned face of John, leaning across the bar on his elbows to talk to him. "I understand you're waiting for someone. The Doctor."

"And Rose," Lily added quickly from where she was hovering behind John, giving the waiter a pointed look.

John just resisted rolling his eyes. "And Rose."

"Yeah," Donny had straightened at the mention of the Doctor, wondering if they had any information. Perhaps he'd called ahead to say he couldn't make it, or given the staff some kind of update on his whereabouts so Donny wouldn't worry. The Doctor was considerate like that. "What of it?"

"The thing is," John winced and ran a hand through his messy hair, as if unsure how to continue, "you're going to be waiting a while. They're not coming."

The grave way the man said it suggested far more permanence than simply postponing the meeting, and Donny's blood ran cold. "You mean – did Shax – ?!"

They were dead. Oh, sweet lord, they were dead.

Flia.

John spoke softly as he continued, brown eyes alight with pity. "They didn't go anywhere near Shax. I'm so sorry Donny, but they were con artists."

The words took several moments to sink in, and then his world shattered.

"I – you're lying," he stammered, although the solemnity of both of their faces shook him to the core. "The Doctor is... he saved us!"

The waiter blinked, before realising what Donny was assuming. "Oh no, no no! When I say they're con artists, I don't mean the Doctor and Rose are con artists – quite the contrary, actually – I mean the people you met were crooks pretending to be the Doctor and Rose."

"I don't," Donny shut his eyes tight, "I don't understand."

He grimaced. "You're right, that sounded less confusing in my head."

"Everythin' sounds less confusing in your head," Lily sighed, "your mouth is where you start to lose people."

John shot her a withering look before turning back to Donny, blissfully unaware with how white the man had gone. "The man you met in Starbright the other night wasn't the Doctor. He was an identity thief, a fraudster – an imposter, if you will. We've been on their trail for a while. It's quite a simple scheme, really, brilliant actually. Aside from being totally morally wrong and, you know, rotten."

Donny wondered if the man would stop talking if he just ignored him.

"All they need to do is go somewhere the Doctor's reputation has already been established, like here with him saving the Hawk's Eye, so no locals have any reason to doubt his or his companion's good intentions. I mean, er, him and his assistant's good intentions." The corner of his mouth turned up innocently and elicited a glare from the barmaid.

"Oh shut up," Lily grumbled, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Just goes to show he was a ruddy imposter, no idea what he was talkin' about."

John gave her a gleeful smile showing off his teeth which she did her best not to return, before remembering he was in the middle of explaining something. "Where was I? Oh, that's right, imposter. Hm. If anyone doesn't recognise him as the Doctor they know, he simply pleads regeneration. So he gets somewhere new, hunts down an innocent citizen in dire need of a miracle and gives them the Doctor. Although instead of actually helping them, he just cons them out of everything valuable they have."

"My... my Ollacite?" Donny asked weakly, but there were more important things weighing on his mind and the knowledge that those crystals were the reason for his daughter's capture and her non-rescue made him want to sob and throw up simultaneously.

Everything was a lie, everything had been a lie. The friendly smiles, the empty reassurances and the kind-hearted looks in the eyes of both the Doctor and Rose. Those moments that had bolstered his hope and confidence in getting Flia back now felt dirty and corrupted. No one had been interested in helping him or Flia - just in stealing his money.

"Not to worry," John carried on, jerking him from his reverie as his expression resumed something more serious, "we, er, sent them packing. And the access codes to the mines you gave them have been forcefully extracted – they'll never bother you again." Silently John slid the familiar Starbright napkin across the bar with the codes written on, and Donny just stared. "Promise I didn't peek."

At that moment, Donny couldn't care less. It was like waking up from some hideous nightmare and realising none of it had been a dream at all. It was difficult to believe it was a con; it was such a well-constructed one. He supposed Rose was never really captured, and who knew if that warehouse had even been Shax's?

John was still talking. "I mean, as if the Doctor would be caught dead wearing a suit that cheap. And the hair? There's a difference between artfully tousled and just plain uncontrolled," John tutted and shook his head, touching a hand to his hair absently with an obvious attempt to lighten the mood. "And, let's be frank, the charm was a bit half-hearted. He was nowhere near clever enough to pull the Doctor off properly." He sniffed in a way that to Donny sounded mildly like indignation.

"Their scheme was brilliant, you see, but flawed," he grinned, "because they didn't count on me. Or you, Donny Bettolo! Broadcasting for help on all those channels? Never would have found you without that, pure, human genius! Given they could have been anywhere in the whole Universe it's been a little difficult for us to track these two. Well, having said that, I'm brilliant. And mind you, they seemed to be sticking to a few neighbouring galaxies near here and they could only go to places the Doctor had been before, which narrows it down quite a bit –"

He was cut off by Lily elbowing him in the side, hard. "Oi!" She nodded over at Donny, still sat there staring into the metal bar top as if he might be able to burn a hole into it.

"What?" John said indignantly, before realising what she was pointing at and dropping his voice to a lower murmur. "I wasn't – I wasn't being rude again, was I?"

"Not rude," Lily assured him quietly, "just forgetful. Think about what else is goin' on, yeah?"

"Flia," Donny suddenly croaked, "if no one went near Shax and they were just after my codes, then no one rescued Flia." His eyes widened with horrific realisation. "And I only have two days left until Shax's deadline! I'm even worse off than I was before!"

John and Lily shared a look.

"About that..." John began.

Lily smiled. "We may have a solution to that."

She disappeared into the room behind the bar for a few moments, and when the door reopened a familiar tiny raven-haired form sprinted into the Diner with only one objective in mind.

"Daddy!" she squealed, and flung herself at Donny.

Donny, to his credit, managed to catch her and swing her off the ground despite having the wind knocked out of him and about two seconds of warning. "Flia!" he cried as his arms tightened securely around her and she buried her face in his neck. But then he was drawing her away from him so he could look at her, scan her for injury, and just see her because she'd been lost to him for days and he didn't think he'd ever see her again. Tears sprang to his eyes but he didn't care to be embarrassed because, damn it, this was his daughter. "You're okay, Daddy's got you," he murmured so many mindless reassurances and spent so long absorbing and committing her appearance so desperately to memory he forgot that they weren't alone in the room.

John and Lily had been satisfied to watch the reunion play out before them, Lily slipping her hand into John's and resting her head on his shoulder contentedly. "You won't have to worry about Shax anymore, either," John spoke up, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Let's just say he got a little lost somewhere a couple of galaxies away and Ollacite is the last thing on his mind. Especially after all those velociraptors. Did you see the claws?" he said to Lily.

"Nasty," she agreed.

Donny could have cried with relief, still clutching tightly to Flia. It was all over. Shax, the Ollacite, the apparent con from the Doctor and Rose; all put to rights by a waiter and a barmaid.

"How – how did this even happen? How can I ever repay you?" Donny lifted his daughter back into his arms so he could rest her against his hip.

"No payment," John replied instantly, "that's not how we do things."

Donny looked from John to Lily, and back to John again. "But then who... who are you?"

"Oh, Donny," John raised his eyebrows in amusement, "haven't you figured it out yet?"


Did you figure it out? Well, I hope you liked it either way. Drop a review on your way out and you get cookies! :)