LIFELINE

He stood there, breathing in the cool morning air. At last he'd made it to London. It had been hazardous enough to have made it this far, but his determination drove him on - that, and the questions buzzing around in his head. But he had time enough to find the answers - more than enough time.

So, why was he here? It wasn't as if he'd come to London by choice. Something had brought him here, as if there was a nagging itch at the back of his mind that wouldn't let go. Like a clue waiting to be uncovered.

His journeys thus far had presented him with snippets of information, to be stored away for future use. Anything, however trivial, was either collected physically or filed away in his mind like a picture. So far, nothing made any real sense. Maybe here, he would find that one piece to fit the whole puzzle.

He'd seen the ship. It was that big, no one could fail to have seen it hovering over Central London. In another life, he'd have said it wasn't his problem. But he was different now, and had tried in his own small way to protect those around him who were under some form of alien control. But it wasn't enough, he knew that. And then, everyone appeared to snap out of it. What the heck was going on?

And then the answer seemed to fall at his feet. He looked up, knowing how close he was, but still so far.

In a moment of clarity, he knew what he had to do. It was time to make a difference.

He'd managed to bypass hospital security with no apparent effort, and had walked – no, strolled into her office, seemingly without a care in the world. But beneath the mischievous glint in his eyes, there was also a haunted look, which he let her see just for a moment.

He already knew of her. She was someone else whose life had been touched in the same way as his. So it made sense to approach her first, with an offer of a job outside of her own experiences. He'd been thorough in his investigations, and instinctively knew she was right.

The others were similarly approached, and came on board. Gradually, by word of mouth, their exploits were being noticed. Results were perhaps a little unorthodox, but nonetheless effective. As word spread, their credibility was recognised. When they were finally approached to become part of a greater organisation, their leader spoke for them all – "If you want us, you take us as we are."

An agreement was duly reached.

That had been some weeks ago, during which time the team had upped sticks and moved out. It wasn't as if London had the monopoly on things alien and downright weird. Once their headquarters had been established, he felt a degree of contentment. It felt right to be here, he thought, especially given his past experiences in this part of the world - almost as if it were meant to be.

Now, he sat alone at his desk. Everyone else had gone home to their respective lives, and he had passed on the offer of a night out. Instead, he crossed toward a huge specimen jar, filled with liquid nutrients to preserve the item stored inside - something that had fallen from the sky, one Christmas in London. It had shattered on impact with the ground, and by rights, should have remained that way. Instead, it had survived, its tissues rejuvenated until new.

He'd seen it happen before his eyes, and had immediately scooped up the object, almost without thinking, before anyone else could react. As he placed it in his overcoat pocket, he was certain that this had been the clue he'd been waiting for.

But things had changed since then. The team in his charge had become important to him. Having started out as a means to an end, it now meant so much more. That was due in no small part to the team's latest addition. She had made them all take stock, to think about what they were doing all of this for. She had challenged the team's initial remit – for the better, he had to admit. He cared about the people around him, and what they did. It was something to live for. Now that, he thought to himself, was funny.

Down in the Hub, Jack Harkness stared unblinking at the severed hand in the nutrient jar, watching its fingers twitching and flexing. There was only one person he could think of to whom that hand belonged to, and it had brought him one step closer to the end of his search. "You're out there somewhere, Doctor," he muttered to himself. "And I've got all the time in the world."