There was something wrong with Jamie.

At first the Doctor quite naturally assumed, it was because he'd spent the last few days trying to escape from a man who wanted to eat him. That sort of thing would unsettle anyone, and as Jamie had actually been tied to the table with the carving knife to his throat, it made perfect sense to assume that was the cause.

But apparently that wasn't it.

"That's all part of the fun of th' adventure," Jamie said when asked. "Wouldn't seem right if we weren't being threatened somehow." But his eyes remained dark as he spoke, and the unsettling wrongness about his demeanor didn't go away.

The Doctor studied him across the console, letting the silence stretch between them as he pondered his words. "Jamie," he began, "did something happen on the space station once I'd gone?"

Jamie shrugged in a non-committal way and said, "What? No." But there was a flash in his eyes that spoke volumes; it told the Doctor he'd struck a nerve.

The Doctor came around the console and gripped the Scot's arm. "Jamie, what happened while I was away?"

"Och, it don't bear t' dwell upon, Doctor. Best it were just forgot about."

The Doctor's grip on Jamie's arm tightened as he stared at his companion. Jamie was nothing if not always straightforward. He was refreshingly frank about all things and that made this bit of shadiness stand out that much more. "What happened?" the Doctor insisted. "If it's bothering you this much, you should get it off your chest."

Jamie's eyes looked furtively everywhere but the Doctor's face. It was almost as though he was ashamed of whatever had happened. "I was just alone a long time," he said softly. "I'm fine now."

" 'A long time,' Jamie? Just how long were you on that space station after they took me?"

"I wasn't exactly countin'," Jamie muttered.

"Days?"

"Oh, aye. A week, at least. More, I think."

"A week!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Oh my word, Jamie! It was only a matter of hours for me! Oh, space travel does do that to one's sense of time." He put a hand to his mouth as events occurred to him. "You must have had a horrible time of it. There was so much fighting, and that computer was certain to go mad! And the food! With that Androgum chef on board, I'm not sure they even had food synthesizers. Poor lad, what did you eat?"

Jamie shrugged uncomfortably, pulling away from the Doctor. "Most of the food went bad, but I found some that was still all right." His words were slow, like they were being forced out of him. When he continued, his voice was much softer. "Saw them kill you in that tube thing. Took a lot of them out, after that, best I could, 'fore they overpowered me. I didn't . . ." he trailed off a bit, eyes determinedly not focusing on the Doctor's face. "Didn't care much what happened t' me, after I thought you was dead. Killed some of them that I thought killed y', and they didn't like that. Managed t' escape, but they set the computer on me. So, I went below, where the computer couldn't get at me."

"Oh, IJamie/I."

"I know them killin' y' was just an illusion, Inow/I, but it seemed Iso real/I at th' time," he said, his voice merely a whisper. "I tried t' get back t' th' TARDIS, but it'd gone." His eyes hardened. "How come th' Time Lords didn't come for us?"

"We don't exist, remember?" the Doctor said sadly. "They wouldn't care if we lived or died on our mission. Isn't that obvious?" His face crumpled as he noticed tears welling in Jamie's eyes. "Oh, my dear boy, I wish I had never dragged you into all of this." He pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket, moving to wipe Jamie's eyes.

The boy pulled away defiantly, pushing the handkerchief aside. He blinked back whatever tears had been forming. "Don't y' say that, Doctor. Don't y' even think it. Y' don't know what it's like, back home. Here's better than what's left for me there."

"I know, I know. But the things I've put you through," the Doctor said. He wrung his handkerchief in his hands, unsure of what to do with it now. "The last thing I want is to see you hurt more, and yet that's all I seem to be able to do."

"Och, soon you'll be th' one going t' pieces," Jamie chided. He adjusted the fly plaid fabric hanging over his shoulder, but now he kept his eyes trained on the Doctor. "I'm a tough lad, y' know that. I can handle a few days alone."

"But you thought I was dead!" the Doctor cried. "And that computer was trying to hurt you. And I'll bet there was a lot more that went on that you're not telling me." He fixed Jamie with a stern stare. "You deserve much better than what I give you."

"That's no' true and y' know it," Jamie chided. "I know thing's have been strained since I got back—"

"That's hardly your fault, Jamie."

"Let me finish," he said. "But I learned a lot, meeting that other you. Remembered a bit more too." He focused intently on the Doctor. "Why didn't you tell me th' truth about Victoria?"

"Victoria?" the Doctor said. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Just what did that colorful old fool tell you? He should have known better than to go flapping his lip."

"Weren't him, Doctor," Jamie said. "The lass Peri told me a bit. We looked through some photos together, of some of your—his—past companions. Saw me and Zoe and Ben and Polly and . . . and Victoria. Said right there in the databanks just what happened to her."

"Oh, Jamie. Memory is such a tricky thing to deal with. I didn't want to risk forcing false memories. I had hoped you'd remember on your own. It didn't seem right to tell you when you couldn't remember."

"Don't see how not telling me is the same as lying t' me about it."

The Doctor lowered his eyes, shamefaced. "Well, we do what we must, Jamie. I am sorry."

"Aye. Well, I remembered something else, too," Jamie said, studying the Doctor.

The Doctor lifted his eyes at the change in tone, finally meeting Jamie's gaze. The look in the boy's eyes had changed: the darkness—the hurt—was still there, but it was masked by something else, something familiar. It was a familiarity that the boy had once had with the Doctor, but had lost along with his memories. It was a look Jamie had once given him when he was thinking very fond thoughts. It made the Doctor's body tingle to see it again, but he tried hard not to hope. "Oh?" His voice was small.

"Aye," Jamie said slowly. "It reoccurred to me when the other Doctor kissed me."

"Ah, yes, well, that'd make sense—when he what?" The Doctor's eyes widened, staring hard at Jamie. "He did no such thing!"

"Oh, but he did. Threw me for a bit, 'til I remembered. About y' and me."

"Oh dear," the Doctor said. He suddenly found his handkerchief terribly fascinating again. He made a big to-do about stuffing it into his breast pocket.

"What else have y' been hiding from me, I wonder?" Jamie asked, stepping toward him. "And why?"

"Jamie," the Doctor began weakly, refusing to look up and see those eyes again just yet. "You have to understand that what the Time Lords did to you wasn't supposed to be undone. Our sessions to unlock your memories are experimental at best. The last thing I wanted was to trigger an avalanche in your mind." He grew bolder. "And after a week on a space station with no company and no food or water and thinking I'm dead, the very last thing you needed was some strange man taking advantage of you like that!"

"Oh, he's th' one taking advantage of me now, is he?" Jamie said, scrutinizing the Doctor. "Well, it weren't like that for long, Doctor." He grinned at the shocked expression that stole across the Doctor's face. "Besides, he's y', isn't he?"

"Well, yes, but that's hardly the point, and Jamie! You Ididn't/I!"

"Didn't what, Doctor?"

"Well!" he said, wringing his hands. "Well, after regaining your memories, I'd hate to think you . . . that you . . ." He sputtered into silence.

"I was in pretty bad sorts when he found me, Doctor," Jamie said. "Think I needed the memories I got back when I did. Needed him, too. Or you, but y' weren't there."

"I should have been," he firmly stated.

"Aye. Wee bit jealous of yourself now, are y'?" Jamie was teasing.

"Certainly not!" the Doctor cried. He twisted his hands more, furtively looking aside. "Well, yes. A bit, I suppose. It has been a terribly long time since . . .." He faltered.

"Go on, Doctor."

"Well, since we've . . . been together," he managed. "Like that."

"Aye," Jamie agreed. "Don't see why y' thought it was a good idea t' hold out on me, either. All the trouble y' put me in, almost gettin' me killed and th' like, seems only fair of y' t' give something pleasant back once in a while."

"Oh, Jamie," the Doctor said, finally looking up at him. He couldn't help himself anymore, breaking into a brilliant smile now that he knew it was all right. "I was trying not to be too forward. I feared I'd end up scaring you right back into the English Army!"

"For all your smarts, y' sure can be a daft one, Doctor," Jamie said.

"That's certainly true," the Doctor said. He started to reach for Jamie and then seemed not to know what to do with himself. He ended up patting Jamie's arm awkwardly. "My dear boy, it's been a trial to maintain the charade, believe me. But I was determined not to force the issue. Of course, I'd rather Ihoped/I you'd remember, but I wasn't going to risk—"

Jamie stole in close, kissing the Doctor and effectively silencing him.

It took only a second for the Doctor to go from full-on prattle to returning the kiss. It had been much, much too long since he'd had Jamie this close to him. Something he had once taken for granted had been stolen from him, and he had denied how much he missed it, until this moment. Kissing Jamie now was like breaking the floodgates down. His hands finally found purpose, pulling the boy closer to him.

Jamie sighed into him, opening his mouth to the Doctor, pressing his body up against his. The boy's arms draped luxuriously over the Doctor's shoulders and the kissing continued, both comfortable and familiar and desperately passionate. In the past, making love to Jamie had almost always been a familiar, casual thing; something that came so easily it was impossible to think it wasn't natural.

There had sparks of passion before, but not like this.

Within a matter of moments, Jamie had pushed the Doctor up against the console with his need to be closer. The added leverage meant that they could focus less on staying upright and more on rediscovering one another. The Doctor's hands fluttered from touching Jamie's hips to skirting over his back and buttocks. He alternated between pulling Jamie up closer against him and rubbing soft circles into his skin.

When Jamie finally pulled back, he pressed his face against the curve of Doctor's shoulder and breathed heavily into the fabric there.

"Jamie," the Doctor whispered, caressing his back. "Oh, my Jamie. How I've missed you."

"Aye, and I you," Jamie replied thickly. He turned his face into the Doctor's collar, inhaling deeply. "Y' won't let them do that t' me again, will y'?" he murmured.

"You don't have to worry about the Androgum ever again, Jamie," the Doctor soothed.

Jamie lifted his head, focusing on the Doctor. "That's no' what I mean, and y' know it." His brows came to points. "I meant the Time Lords. Y' won't let them take my memories away again, will you?"

The Doctor managed a sad smile. "No, my boy. No, I won't." He drew Jamie close to him again, patting him affectionately. "And I think they know that now."

"Good," Jamie said. His hands began to move on the Doctor's backside. "Now, then," he added, tugging the Doctor's shirt out from his trousers and only slightly thwarted by the braces. "If only I could remember how t' do th' rest of this."

Laughing, relieved and content at last, the Doctor shrugged out of his coat. "I think I can help you with that."