Perhaps she was an odd choice. The selection of a companion usually consisted of little more than happenstance and a smile, but as a general rule he stuck to persons born in later generations. These "younger" people tended to be more fluid, more accepting of his technology, his whims and fancies.

Still, once upon a time there had been Victoria, so there were always exceptions. Penelope Jane was just another, one of those exceptions for when his rules became fluid, a little more dependent on his whims and fancies.

She was a tiny, shy thing, all elbows and knees, shaped by the political unrest of 1920s America. But he reckoned his Penny was aptly named. Not for the copper hair cut into a severe bob that she appeared to have deeply regretted with the way she would continuously reach for hair that no longer existed, but rather with how she emanated with an inner sweetness, a wholesome inimitable goodness. It was rather refreshing, particularly on days when he couldn't remember what color his eyes were or what face he possessed at the moment.

"Doctor?" He had been under the impression that Al Capone had been replaced with an alien; what he discovered was that humans behave strangely when syphilis is left untreated. Despite the error, he felt that the TARDIS wouldn't have accidentally brought him anywhere, so it must have been important to show up in 1929 Chicago, have a shot of bootleg gin and meet Penny in all of her clumsy radiance.

"Doctor!"

"Hmm?"

"I said my father expects me home by six," Penny repeated. This was an old song and dance. They always tried to set up boundaries and limits in the beginning. Was there ever a time he successfully brought one back at the initial time they demanded? He needed a mirror, he needed to see if he still looked charming.

When she propped her hands onto her hips, she smashed an elbow into one of the many levers in the TARDIS. She swallowed a yelp and continued. "I wasn't even supposed to be at that establishment, much less climb into a strange box with a stranger man-"

"I did ask nicely."

"Well yes, I suppose you did, but it isn't proper."

"Neither are speakeasies."

"Doctor!" Her pale skin flushed scarlet with an alarmingly minimal amount of stress. "I can't have my father find out. Promise me that."

"Here we are!" He brushed past her and headed towards the exit of the TARDIS. "Earth!"

"You brought me back?" Perhaps 'Penny' was not an apt name, after all. 'Violet' would have been better, what with the way she shrank behind his shoulders as he left the TARDIS.

He opened his arms and reached for the air with his fingertips. "Isn't it beautiful? And just in time for the party."

Odd, that. Usually there was music at parties. And more people.

"This is not Earth," Penny said.

"Of course it is," the Doctor replied. "But what happened to the party?"

"Oh, you're just a little early, is all."

That voice. It made his insides twist. Maybe Penny could sense something was off as well. Her face fell slack as his two hearts fought to keep rhythm with each other.

Some things were never meant to happen. Should not happen. But then again, sometimes those things that were never meant to happen did anyway just because. The Doctor supposed that it was part of his duty to look after such anomalies, but it was painful to see such aberrations of humanity and to know that he was responsible.

"That's not usually your style," Captain Jack Harkness continued. "You generally don't show up until after things start to go belly up."

A smarmy fellow, Jack's eyes looked older than the last time the Doctor had seen him. He kept waiting for Harkness to snap under the strain of immortality, to start to disconnect and pull away from the humans that kept growing old and dying on him. Harkness was at a disadvantage to the Time Lord; where the Doctor could frolic to and fro across the time stream and wallow in people being alive and just living, Jack had no time machine and by default was forced to stick around long after the jokes had grown stale. How many friends had he watched wither away? How many had the Doctor?

Jack Harkness' eyes still looked like those of a sane man.

"It was your invitation that I was responding to." It wasn't a question, not really. Harkness appearing meant trouble, the man had an inborn knack for it. Besides, he had a habit of bothering the Doctor's assistants. He would say things with those big, white teeth of his and then it would be a barrage of, "Doctor! Jack took me dancing. Why don't we ever dance?" or "Doctor! Jack says I'm beautiful. Why is it so hard for you to compliment someone?" and before he knew it, there would be a stack of unreasonable expectations thrust upon him. Couldn't two people just traverse time together without mothers giving disapproving head shakes?

"That it was." Harkness had that blasted grin on his face as he sidestepped the Doctor. "I see you brought me a date, just like I'd asked. Hi! I'm Captain-"

"Jack." Penny blinked spasmodically and swallowed hard. "Yes. I know."

Oh, bother. She knew him. Of course she knew him. Out of a planet of billions he had to come across the one person who had a past with Captain Jack Harkness. The Doctor silently did the math in his head.

Harkness, to his credit, stared her down a moment until realization washed over his face. "...Penny?"

Penny placed her hand on Harkness' cheek like one of those tawdry romance novels and the Doctor grimaced. So it was one of those kinds of relationships? Ick. It was unlikely she was the only one, he amended. It was Harkness, after all, and the numbers on Earth only counted in the billions. He needed to recalculate the math.

"I waited for you." Her voice wavered.

Harkness placed a hand over hers and rubbed a thumb across her knuckles. "I bet you did."

Her lower lip trembled in a warm up for the words to come. "And then I looked everywhere for you. Every place that we'd ever been. I thought maybe you were avoiding me, but you just weren't there."

"I believe you." What was that expression on Harkness' face? It was difficult to shock or surprise someone as old as that TARDIS-soaked git, so it was very self-satisfying for the Doctor to know he still possessed the skill. He couldn't decide if it was guilt or shame that painted Harkness' features. Maybe just that innate apprehension of a wild animal penned.

"This is madness." Penny kept stroking his face, shoulders and chest with splayed hands as if to convince herself that it wasn't some cruel trick. "I had a notion that you'd done this before, Doctor, but I never thought..."

Wait. She was addressing him? "What?"

"Is this all a joke to you?" She stared at him, hurt making her eyes glossy. Where Rose had been a master at that expression, Penny was but a novice. Still, he'd always preferred anger to that pained look. "People my age are married, they're having children, but I'm not. Is that a huge laugh to you? That you took the one person I cared for, just plucked him up and made him vanish without a trace and left me with nothing but promised words that he'd show up again someday for me to hang onto?"

"You honestly think I took him?" The Doctor asked. "With me?"

Penny's face was bright red. "You're not God, Doctor!"

Harkness strategically chose to remain silent.

"Peoples' lives aren't your playthings!" Penny's skin physically could not become any more flushed. He hoped she was nearing the end of her tirade, because he was unsure what she could possibly do to up the ante. "I am not! I will not be your toy!" And with that last bit of bluster, she slapped a hand over her mouth and stormed off.

Despite not having a clear understanding of the terrain, the Doctor thought it prudent not to follow her. He turned to Harkness. "I sense this is typical of most of your reunions?"

"Things get complicated." The other man shrugged nonchalantly, but he could detect a hint of agitation at the corners of Harkness' nostrils.

"I'll say."

"Penny was special," Harkness insisted. "I left because she was special."

The Doctor clapped his hands together. "So! What do we have here?"

"Welcome to the Torchwood Institute." The tension began to leave Harkness' shoulders as they dodged the obvious. "This upcoming 'party' as you call it, is an exposition to show that we're ready to expand off planet."

"And you think this is a good idea?" The Doctor leaned forward and waggled his eyebrows. He wished he could remember how long his nose was. Fascinating how the shape of his features could turn an expression from endearing to rude or worse.

Harkness' smile was as fake as his name. "I think your appearance here has me worried."

Perhaps the eyebrow waggle had been a bit much, then.

"Don't get me wrong," Harkness continued. "It's always exciting to see you, but you never just stop in for a cup of coffee and then go about your merry way. You name's not really synonymous with peaceful infrastructure change."

"But I always save the day," the Doctor said. "I excitingly save the day."

"It doesn't count as saving if you're the cause of it."

"Now, that's causation without correlation." He fingered the sonic screwdriver snug in his pocket as he peered at the walls of the institute. Why was is that sterile metal teeming with artificiality always meant the future? "What's in this exposition?"

"We want to show how capable Earth is." Harkness had that smile again as he hit a switch on the wall. "Show our progress, how far we've come. We're ready to become more involved in the universe."

The metal walls retracted to expose giant glass tanks. Creatures, plants and artifacts not of this world were all displayed like trophies.

"Subtlety was never your strong suit, was it, Captain?" the Doctor mused.

"None of these critters are sentient." Just like that, the smile was gone. "Torchwood was originally set up to measure and counter any type of perceived alien threat. Other beings have studied humans for centuries and we've studied them right back." Harkness patted a tank and the Weevil on the other side of the glass bared its fangs and cowered. He lowered his voice. "I know this is a delicate political balancing act. I know what's at stake and I don't want to screw it up."

"How could you? You've got several vicious, alien animals penned up, I mean all anyone would have to do is release the seals on the tanks and then..." The Doctor stopped himself. He took in a breath of air and tried again. "I hope you succeed, Jack."

"Thanks." Harkness cleared his throat. "Well, let's go find what Penny's up to."

The Doctor nodded. "You said she was special."

"She was," Harkness said. "Is."

"Do I bring her back to her father by six o'clock, then?"

"No. No, you don't."

"Oh, good." The Doctor thumbed his sonic screwdriver and brought it out more out of habit than actual purpose. "So..."

Harkness frowned. "Don't give me that look."

"I'm not giving you a look." The Doctor waved his sonic screwdriver at the other man's nose. "I have a screwdriver."

Harkness sighed. "Fine. I'll go talk to her."

The Doctor pointed the screwdriver at a control panel on the wall. "If you say so. I'll just stay here and tinker a while."

Harkness vanished beyond the doorway with a swish of that infuriating jacket of his. The Doctor shook his head with a single disapproving cluck and then turned his attention to the tanks. He had expected the Weevil, that species had practically become the mascot for Torchwood, but what else had they tucked away inside the solitude of their walls?

A lot of parasites, a lot of bugs. Serfian beetles made skittering noises as they mulled about the glass. Talk about giving someone the heebie jeebies. The artifacts appeared to be more interesting, particularly because he wasn't entirely sure that Torchwood completely understood what it possessed. The Doctor started at an object in a case, but then breathed a sigh of relief when he realized it was a glove and not a hand.

As he continued to peruse the items on display he couldn't help but ponder what angle Harkness was working. All of those alien creatures, some very powerful, and on display for whom? All of those alien devices, some very powerful, and on display for whom? The Doctor had received an invitation, had he not? Just as Harkness said, the Doctor rarely stopped in just for coffee.

Perhaps it had to do with the final tank he came upon that was curiously empty. It would have been reasonable to panic or fret, but the naked case brought a grin to the Doctor's face. "Oh, dear," he said.

"Got a bit of a problem, Doctor." Harkness looked embarrassed as he made his way through the doorway. Penny was draped across his arms and appeared a bit floppy. "Somebody started the party early."

The Doctor cocked his head to one side and examined his dopey-smiled companion. "You're going to make an awfully poor impression on the future denizens of your world with this kind of behavior, Penny."

Penny pricked her head up and flailed a hand at him. "I'm still very upset with you."

"Not her," Harkness said. He set her down on her feet and she swayed into him. "A hitchhiker got loose and took a liking to dear Penny, here."

"Hitchhiker's not technically its name."

"It still imbedded itself into her skull." Harkness brushed her hair up to expose the mark on the nape of her neck and Penny giggled. "Technically."

The Doctor tapped around the puncture mark and was rewarded with undulations directly beneath the girl's skin. "It's a relatively fresh infection."

"As amusing as it is to see her all zozzled, we need to get this thing out of her." Harkness' arms were unmoving anchors supporting her. Penny nuzzled her nose into his cheek.

"I've missed you," she said.

He turned to face her, nose to nose. "Oh, yeah?"

"So, so much."

Typical. The Doctor snorted. "The parasite is flooding her with endorphins as it feeds off her neural energy. Stop taking advantage of her."

Harkness snuggled closer to Penny, his lips hovered next to her ear. "How often do people call you a spoilsport, Doctor?"

"Probably as often as you're referred to as monogamous, I suppose."

That put a stop to things rather quickly. Harkness pulled away from Penny and tilted her face up to his with the knuckle of his forefinger. "Penny, we should talk, but let's get this thing out of you, first."

Peculiar. Perhaps Harkness did genuinely care for her, albeit only as far as Harkness was capable of caring for a person. He wrapped his arms around her and her head rested on his shoulder. While she nestled into him, it gave the Doctor a clear view of the parasite's entry point.

"It's like we're dancing, Penny," Harkness said. "Just like old times."

"I was always a terrible, wretched dancer." Her voice was muffled against his jacket.

There was a wistfulness to his smile, as if Harkness wasn't entirely in the present. He rested his chin on her head. "Yeah, but that wasn't the point. It didn't matter that you were horrible dancer, what mattered was that you kept trying."

"I don't want you to leave, again." The creature was burrowing deeper. There was something about the intensity or emotion, maybe, that it was attracted to.

"Penny-"

Her back jerked upright, straight and rigid. Penny's eyes were clear as she jabbed a finger in Harkness' chest. "No, you listen, Mr. Captain Jack Harkness. I'm not just some skirt looking for money or a good time. You were special to me. And when you didn't show up, even knowing what I know now, it was the most awful thing ever." She paused to inhale and when she began again, her pace was more even and quiet. "So even when I thought that you had skipped town and were laughing at me with every step away that you took, I kept showing up. Because I was... I am! I am completely stuck on you."

"That's it!" the Doctor exclaimed. He did a little hop to catch Harkness' attention. "It's feeding off of all of her positive emotions. You just need to change her mood, is all."

The confident facade crumbled for a moment as Harkness winced. "Oh, no. You can't expect me to-"

"I wanted so much," Penny was saying. "I just kept imagining what it would be like to grow old with you at my side-"

"No!" Harkness gripped her by both shoulders. "You will never see me old."

Her eyes widened at his force. "What?"

"Don't you get it?" he demanded. When her only response was to stare, unblinking, he laughed. "I don't die! You were right; I did skip town."

"But..." A growing mass was gathering at the base of Penny's neck. She was starting to reject the hitchhiker. The Doctor nodded Harkness on.

"The night before, you had been so perfect and beautiful and alive that I knew it would be downhill from then on," Harkness said as he shook her. "So I left. I wanted to remember you like that and I left so I wouldn't have to remember you old and broken. I'd never see you ugly and sick. I left so I wouldn't have to bury you."

"Oh." Penny was completely oblivious to the way her body lurched backwards as the alien she was hosting desperately tried to free itself of her.

The Doctor caught her as the hitchhiker finally wrenched itself from the back of her skull. Harkness quickly unholstered the firearm at his hip and fired several rounds into the creature. It landed wet on the metal floor and Penny crumpled into a heap and buried her head in her hands.

"Is killing always your solution?" the Doctor snapped at Harkness.

"It was an assassin," Harkness replied. "It would claim a host, render it brain dead and then use it to take out its target. I had a cell reserved for it, but after seeing it in action, I changed my mind."

Well, at least that was a sign that Harkness was maintaining his selfish humanity. "Was that a professional decision or personal?"

"Take your pick." Harkness eyed the exit. "Sorry for the ruse, but I knew this guy wouldn't be able to resist targeting the infamous Doctor."

"Ah, yes. Well, thank you. I think."

Harkness' gaze darted to Penny still on the floor, before it retreated back to the doorway. "You shouldn't have found out like this, Penny."

She wouldn't look up from her hands. "I want to leave, Doctor."

"Right." The Doctor hoisted her to her feet, took her hand in his and led her back to the TARDIS. Harkness stood back and silently watched.

Once the door shut and they were safely inside, Penny sat on a platform and deflated. The Doctor busied himself with switching levers and recalibrating the TARDIS while Penny stared off, dazed and broken.

"So, Barcelona, I bet you've never been there. I mean the planet, not the city, although let's be honest, you've never been to the city either, have you?" He cranked a wheel as he grinned. "Dogs with no noses! Barcelona's fantastic, you'll love it."

"Doctor?"

"How does a dog with no nose even work? The people there are very kind."

"Will it end like that for us?"

That stopped him. Penny had edged herself off the platform and was making her way toward him. Red ringed eyes sat in a drained face. Curious. He stared and waited for her to make the first move.

"Will I get too old and broken or ugly and sick for you?" she asked. "And then one day I'll wake up and you'll be gone forever without so much as a note?"

He let her words hang in the air as he considered them. Perhaps she wasn't an odd choice at all. "No," he said. "I promise you, Penelope Jane, that I will never leave you."

That didn't soothe her. "You've done this before, Doctor," she said. "I wasn't the first companion. I doubt I'll be the last."

He nodded. "You're right. But you have my word that I will never leave you."

She wasn't getting it. "How can you be so certain?"

"Because," he said as he threw an arm around her shoulder. "I'm never the one that leaves, Penny."

"Oh." Penny looked up at him and the shadow of a smile crept in at the corners of her mouth. "So how does a dog with no nose smell?"

The Doctor broke into a huge grin. "Barcelona!"