Amy felt tears drift down her face, not bothering to wipe them away. Her vision blurred, a sense of dread washing over her.

"So," she started, trying to remain calm. "I'm stuck, in Cardiff, Wales, until the Doctor and River figure out not only what city I'm in, but what year I'm in. And who knows where they think I am. They could think that I'm in Tokyo or Rio de Janeiro or some small un-named village in Africa. And when! They could think that I got zapped to the year of Jesus' birth! Or even the day before the apocalypse that finally ends the world!" anger leaking through her words. "How in the world are they going to know that I'm stuck in Cardiff, Wales 1962 with Captain Flirts-A-Lot? How do I know that they will find me before I'm old and wrinkly and unable to even breath? How do I know that Rory wasn't zapped so far back into the past, that he is dead by now and we can't save him. How do I know that they will even search for me?" her voice cracked, panic and fear taking over. Jack lunged for her just as her knees gave way. He lowered her gently so that she was sitting on the floor, leaning against him.

"Hey, calm down. I've got you. It may not look like it now, but I promise you we will find a way to get the Doctor here soon. We'll think of something. Why don't you go to sleep? We can start thinking of ideas to getting you back on the TARDIS in the morning."

"How can you think of sleep now! I could be stuck here until I die and you want me to just go to sleep?"

"You're exhausted. You probably went through an emotional adventure just before being zapped back in time by the angel. You got maybe an hour, hour and a half of sleep during the ride here. Knowing the Doctor, you've probably been up for somewhere close to two days linearly. Most humans crash from exhaustion at around 36 hours of no sleep. That nap isn't going to keep you going much longer. You need sleep. All I'm asking for is seven hours. I will wake you in seven hours, I promise, and if you feel fine, we can start brainstorming on how to let the Doctor know where and when you are. Deal?" He looked down at her, hoping she'd give in. She nodded, minutely, and allowed him to pick her up and carry her to the bed. Without any difficulty, he pulled back the sheets and set her down, allowing her to cover herself with as much of the blankets as she wanted. He went to leave the room, when he heard her speak.

"Can you stay?" He turned around, confusion written on his face. "At least until I fall asleep?"

Wordlessly, he walked back to the bed and sat down on the edge. He watched her relax, and slowly drift off to sleep.

"Ok. Name the most historically significant events starting from 1812 till today in all cities in Southeastern Wales." the Doctor said, grabbing at his hair, trying to think.

"There was the Cardiff-Bristol boat service in 1815." Rory offered.

"Cardiff. Cardiff. CARDIFF!"

"What are you going off about?" River said, trying to think of major events.

"Captain." He flipped some switches. "Jack." Certain buttons were pressed. "Harkness." He lifted a lever. "51st century former Time Agent. Briefly travelled with myself and a former companion. We got ambushed and placed on Satellite 5 approximately 100 years after they stopped broadcasting. Long story short, Jack died, got revived, and using the last of juice of his vortex manipulator, landed in 1869. But when he was revived, he wasn't just revived from the Dalek's shot. Oh no, he was brought back to life with the ability, or curse depending on how you look at it, to never stay dead. He landed near Cardiff, or in Cardiff, I don't remember. But he works for Torchwood 3," he ignored River's sharp intake of breath. "which is based in Cardiff. He actually, the last time I talked to him, ran Torchwood 3."

"So? How is this going to help? She could have landed in any year from 1812 to today. And that's not a guarantee. What if she landed before he did? Or our parameter could be horrible off and she could have landed in 804 BC." River's voice rose slightly as she spoke.

"Well just find out when we get there, won't we?"

"Can you send out the signal?" she could hear the voice, muffled by a comforter and the closed door. "Just do it." pause. "Emily, I'm begging you. Please." Amy sat up, guessing he was on the phone. "Thank you. I will explain fully when I report to work in two weeks. Or sooner if this is cleared up before then. And thank you." She heard footsteps, followed by the door creaking open. "Hey. How you feeling? Was just about to come wake you."

"I'm good. A little hungry." He nodded his head toward the kitchen. She clambered out of the bed and followed him. "Who were you talking to?"

"My boss."

"In 1962 your boss is a woman? Isn't that a bit, oh, unheard of?"

"Not when the company you work for is not, at this point and time, associated with the government. And when it was originally set up by Queen Victoria, you tend to be able to get away with things like that." He got out some eggs, flour, and milk. "Hope you like pancakes."

"I do. I hope you make them like you sweet-talk." she replied, giving a little smirk.

"Oh, honey. You'd be surprised." He purred his response.

"So, this place you work for. Not affiliated with the government, set up by Queen Victoria, and allows the most flexible hours I've ever heard of. What were you asking your boss to do?"

"Send out a broadcast wave. I'm hoping that it can reel in the Doctor and give him a location and date to pinpoint. Bringing the TARDIS, and by default the Doctor to here and now."

"Why didn't you mention this earlier when I asked if you had any way of getting in contact with the Doctor?"

He sighed before responding. "Because it's untested. We don't know if it will work. Or if it will reach a brilliant blue police box that travels in time and space. It's a shot. But it's a shot in the dark."

A/N:

I was too lazy to research a bunch of major (or potentially major) events that happened in/near Cardiff starting from 1812. So Rory is just a really good guesser. Who knew?

And what does River know about Torchwood? At this point it was for dramatic effect. I may or may not elaborate.

Not thinking, I sent Amy too far back to be able to use even home phones. (DOH!) A little digging revealed that walkie talkies were invented somewhere between 1934 and 1941. So imagine that they are talking on walkie talkies, and Amy, not knowing, simply thinks Jack is on the phone.

Instead of writing my 7-9 page paper that is due TOMORROW and is a good chunk of my final grade, I wrote this. So I hope you enjoy it.

Also, reviews make me happy. Happier than a witch in a broom factory.