A/N: Once again I blame LovelyAmberLight for an idea that I simply had to run with. She really is a wealth of incredible creativity. Most of my best ideas are hers...

Anyhow ... I hope you enjoy!

GK

~~oooOOOooo~~

He never thought he'd say it, but right now he found the inside of his TARDIS to be incredibly boring. He couldn't take time and tinker with her because there was nothing to tinker with. Rose, and whomever helped her, had kept his time ship in immaculate condition. There wasn't even so much as a wee rusty screw that needed to be replaced.

Oh, perhaps if he crawled in underneath the console and snaked his way into the deepest and most intricate workings of the console, then he would for sure find a bits or bobs that needed replacing. But truth be known, he just couldn't find the will to go in there and try.

For seven hours he'd been holed up in the vortex just drumming his fingers on the console, tossing a tennis ball up and down … up and down … and up and down … and up and down again. The TARDIS really didn't make any complaints about of his absolute lack of enthusiasm. Bless her. She could feel the ache in his single heart and the confusion in his mind. His TARDIS wouldn't bother him or make any demands at all if she knew that he was out of sorts.

He had tried to process the words that Mark had spoken to him only hours ago, but couldn't truly believe that he was anything like the young Time Lord had suggested.

And how about the revelation of a son … sorry, brother?

That was a surprise all of its own. Not necessarily an unwelcome one, of course. He imagined that his Full Time Lord self would be thrilled to know that he had a child that survived the adventure of the week. Messaline had very much shattered what was left of his hearts. Most of the reason he had fought so hard against allowing himself the privilege of allowing hope to return to his aged and withered self, was because he knew that the universe would so cruelly rip it away from him again. Oh, that universe was a cruel and vicious bitch. No sooner would he grow complacent toward the debt he felt that owed the universe and she'd rip a new tear across his hearts and take it all away from him again. And how could he argue against this debt? He destroyed the gateway to time, and committed genocide against an entire species….

…No, not only a single species. Gallifrey was home to millions of different species from across the kingdoms of Flora and Fauna. He'd obliterated the universes of animals that believed Gallifrey to be the universe in its entirety… He was a monster. He didn't deserve a second chance at a family. He didn't deserve the second heart of a Time Lord. He certainly didn't deserve Rose.

Mark was right.

The TARDIS chipped and beeped angrily in protest to his thoughts and mentally drew him up from his slouch on the jump seat and led him toward the console. A specific sequence of buttons began to flash, coaxing the Doctor into following that sequence.

"What an odd request for you to make," he muttered quietly toward his TARDIS. "Why do you want me to view the holographic log files? I really don't know what you need access to that bunch of nonsense." He huffed, but followed her command anyway. "I'm not entirely proud of the Gallifrey files thank you very much."

He huffed, thrust his hands deep into his pockets, and looked up at the ceiling. "You're not going to make me feel any better with any of that, I can assure you."

His head flicked off to one side as an invisible static wall slowly materialised in the cavern toward the right of his console. He turned his body toward the turn of his head and slowly dipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers. With a small kick of his heels against the floor, he reluctantly strode forward to gain a much better viewing position for whatever the TARDIS wanted to show him.

He smirked one side of his mouth in remembrance as the wall flickered and came to life in the basement of Henriks on the night he met Rose for the first time.

He saw the manic and almost excited grin of his Ninth self as he reached for Rose's hand and told her to "run!". How strange was that, really, seeing himself from this angle. At the time, he thought himself panicked and rather unreasonable. He was on a suicide mission, after all. Freshly regenerated and only moments after destroying Gallifrey. He hadn't even taken the time to check out his new look. No. He hadn't done that until he'd ended up at Rose's flat almost an entire day later.

Oh, hadn't she intrigued him, though? This tiny little human girl. She asked the good questions and not once faltered or shrieked like most women her age might. When he took her hand – the very moment his newly regenerated hand took hers – he felt her strength. He could sense that she was someone special…

His suicide mission became one of reconnaissance. He had to find her again, and had to learn more about this girl.

…And thank the holy trinity of Gallifrey, he'd found her again.

The screen shimmered and then switched to the streets of London, and her hand in his as they looked up into the sky after a harrowing adventure where Earth was lost. They made a striking couple as she vowed to him that he had her, and that them together was better than him alone. "Better with two", she'd said to him, right before they had chips.

He was completely taken by her at that point. He didn't have to see the goofy smile on his face and the infatuation in his eyes to know it. He remembered that point in their relationship quite vividly. As the TARDIS replayed the highlight reel of his Ninth self and Rose's time together, he absolutely drank it all in.

"I'm so glad I met you."

"I don't go anywhere without her. She's staying with me."

"I could save the world, but lose you."

"What use are emotions if you won't save the woman you love?"

"Adam's given up. Looks like it's just you and me. Good."

"I only take the best."

"Your wish is my command."

"And everybody lives, Rose! Everybody lives! I need more days like this."

"Because this is what I'm going to do. I'm going to rescue her. I'm going to save Rose Tyler from the middle of the Dalek fleet. And then I'm going to save the Earth, and then, just to finish off, I'm going to wipe every last stinking Dalek out of the sky! Rose? I'm coming to get you."

"C'mere. I think you need a Doctot."

The Doctor smiled a wistful smile of remembrance as he watched his younger self hold onto Rose with all the tenderness of a devoted lover, and then press his lips to hers to save her with a kiss.

He died for her that day. He gave up a regeneration to make sure that she survived her attempt to save his life.

"I deserved her," he spoke confidently toward the centre console. "Everything was about us, he sang out. Rose Tyler and the Doctor. Look at us!" He gestured to the now frozen scene of the two of them in a lover's embrace. "How can Mark say that I don't deserve her; that I took her love for granted? He doesn't know what he's talking about."

He patted at his chest and curled a lip. "Rose is important to me," he snarled. "And as you can plainly see I made sure she knew it." He flicked his hand toward the console. "Put all of that on a USB, old Girl. I'm going to take that back to Earth, throw it in Mark's face, and tell him to sod off with his jealousy."

The holographic wall sizzled and the image swelled with the Doctor in pinstripes. He immediately snapped his attention toward the monitor, confident that it would continue to display the proof of his devotion and love toward his precious pink and yellow girl. "That's right, TARDIS. Keep it coming!"

The Doctor's mood quickly fell from victorious to horrified as he watched the movements of his current self on the screen in front of him. He watched as his younger self strode carelessly into an elevator and let it close behind him, neglecting to check first if Rose was with him.

Oh, he wasn't at all bothered at the time that Rose would be any less than brilliant at getting upstairs to join him.

He didn't count on a vengeful flap of bitchy skin plotting to kidnap and take control over her. It took him far too long to realise that his Rose wasn't actually Rose Tyler. Far, far too long.

At the time he'd blamed regeneration sickness on the short circuit in his brain that failed to register that Rose was no longer Rose. Could he still blame that condition on why it took so long for him to register that Rose had been gone for far too long at the Torchwood home? Was his lack of attentiveness toward her the reason she was taken and then held captive in the cellar?

He finally did find her and come to her rescue, of course. But it was only by sheer chance that she hadn't succumbed to something far worse than merely being shackled and chained to a wall. Anything could have happened in the moments where he was far too distracted and thoughtless toward her safety. Anything at all. IT never even occurred to him to check on her.

"I don't go anywhere without her," is what his Ninth self had proclaimed at 10 Downing Street back when they first met. Jump to his Tenth self, and it seemed that he'd rush off and anywhere she wasn't. For all the moments he held tightly at her hand, there were equal moments when his hand was empty …

Madame du Pompadour's face filled the wall in its entirety, and the Doctor's heart bottomed out completely. This was an adventure that he wanted removed completely from his timeline. No sooner had he promised Rose that he would never abandoned her, he did just that.

Thousands of years into her future, and aboard a ship filled with killer droids he'd not only abandoned her once, but he did so multiple times; always leaving her to the mercy of whatever lain in wait for him to leave.

He couldn't have been more of a jackass if he'd actually made a concerted effort to do so. During no part of that adventure did he act like himself at all – at least not the selves of him who cared for the woman who saved him. He was a rude, flighty, and arrogant cad on that trip. Never before had he gloated about snogging with anyone – not in any incarnation before or since - least of all skite about it to someone who it was clear carried a torch for him.

He behaved more like a filthy human ape that the proud Lord of Time he proclaimed himself to be. He disgusted himself when recalling any part of that adventure. He certainly didn't need the TARDIS to remind him about it.

It wasn't the first time that he'd let Rose think that she was anything other than his first priority; but it was the first time that he was so blatantly cruel toward her feelings. He knew beyond a doubt that she was in love with him, and he – as Mark had so passionately pointed out to him – he took that love for granted.

"I – I don't need to see anymore," he quietly begged the TARDIS as his mind bombarded him with more and more images of the hot and cold dance he performed for Rose. "I get it."

The TARDIS was by no means done with the Doctor. The screen show changed, and now the Doctor ran with Martha rather than Rose. His eyes widened in horror.

"No," he called out. "Please no more. I get it. Okay? I get it. I've been a complete arse." He spun to put his back to the screen that continued to scroll through his misadventures and mistreatment of those who loved him most.

He backed up, refusing to look at the TARDIS' home movies collection, and stumbled into the jump seat. He had to use an arm and a tight grip on the cushion of the seat to not completely crumple up and fall down onto the grating. He finally found his footing and his balance, and slowly pressed his hips backward to take a seat. Very quickly he leaned forward across his knees and buried his face in his hands.

Realisation gripped him at that moment, and he saw the truth behind the words slung at him by the younger Time Lord that had immersed himself within Rose Tyler's compassion. Oh, he knew that he didn't always behave like a dedicated and supportive travel companion to Rose Tyler. Old habits really do die hard. But he did feel that for the most part he was always there for her – as much as she was for him…

…until she wasn't…

Grief toward her loss had gripped him harder than a vice, and he admitted to possibly treating Martha a little more poorly than he should have. He didn't think he'd been quite as bad as the TARDIS playback was suggesting.

"You're only showing the bad bits," he moaned into his hands without looking up. "Martha was amazing, and together we were brilliant." He looked up at the time rotor through the gaps between his fingers. "There were plenty of good times in there as well. Plenty of times where I made sure she knew how special she was to me."

The TARDIS went dark, lit only by the rotor column, as though disagreeing with him.

"You don't think so?" he asked with a rise in his brows as he lifted his head from his hands. "I'm absolutely positive that Martha knew how brilliant I thought she was."

There was a sudden shudder underneath his feet, which had the Doctor leap up out of the seat and rush toward the console. "What was that?"

The shudder shifted to a rumble, and the entire console lit up into brilliant life. Urgent scrolls of curcular Gallifreyan texts swam across the screen, coloured purple with a safety-orange hue to it, it was clear that the TARDIS was concerned, but not yet completely panicked.

"What's wrong?" The Doctor asked worriedly. He looked up to the rotor column as the rotor began to rise and fall inside. His words were almost as husky as the whine and wheeze coming from the ship. "Do we need to be anywhere?"

His eyes flicked to the screen as a new line of data scrolled up and centre. "I see," he stated with a flat voice and a pinch in his eyes. "Time Travel without a TARDIS…" He looked back toward the rotor. "And you're worried that they might get stuck out of their time if their manipulators fail?"

The ship hummed in agreement.

"Well," the Doctor sang out as he leaned across the console and flicked up a switch. "So am I."

He forced out a wide grin as he twisted a dial and kicked at a lever underneath the console. "Fancy a trip to 1980's London?" The grin became more sincere. "Oh, what a time. I remember it quite well in at least three of my early incarnations."

The smile fell. "Oh. We can't have them bump into one of those earlier mes, now, can we? Blonde me was quite a handsome fellow…"

~~oooOOOooo~~

Rose Tyler tugged down at her denim mini-skirt as she skipped over a pothole on the road filled with water. Although coupled with a hot pink pair of cotton-lycra leggings and a pair of black ankle-length Doc Marten boots, she still felt slightly exposed with the hem of her skirt being so damn short. Fortunately her plaid shirt, which matched in colour to her leggings, was long enough that the tail dipped down below the hem of her shirt.

That didn't stop her feeling self-conscious, however. She could feel how short the skirt was. The same couldn't be said for the longer length of her shirt.

"You look great," Mark cooed playfully into her ear. "Enough tuggin' and shiftin'. Anyone would think you weren't into fashion." He spun inside his walk to admire a pair of similarly dressed women walk by them. He flashed them a wide and roguish smile and hummed happily. "This time did like their fashion, didn't they?"

"I have no idea why," Rose groused. "And why you specifically chose this outfit for me to wear." She narrowed her eyes at her companion. "I'm not a twenty year old anymore, Mark. I should be dressed more appropriate for a woman my age."

He humphed a little in thought. "Well. Would that be linear to Human lifespan or a Time Lord one, because my response to that remark really does depend on that answer." He chuckled. "And besides. Have you seen the trousers that women wore during this age, Rose? Talk about making butts look big and saggy."

Rose twisted to attempt to look at her own arse. "Mine isn't, right?"

"I'm thinking that it might be somewhat inappropriate to look and them comment on that." He replied with a purse in his lips.

"Not any less appropriate than my observation that while you've successfully and wholly embraced the jeans tucked into your high tops and the over size button down shirt tucked into the waist band of your jeans." She chuckled when he preened. "You're missing the quintessential part of men's fashion in the 80's"

He looked quite shocked by that. "No," he corrected. "I researched it, Rose. This is …" he swept his hand down along the front of him. "This is what the guys wore back when."

"You're missing the moose knuckle," she muttered with as straight an expression as she could. "Very," she coughed to hide her amusement at his wide-eyed look of horror. "IT's very much a large part of 80's and even 70's culture."

His eyes narrowed and he sniffed off petulantly to one side. "I can tell that you assume I have no idea about what you're talking about, Rose Tyler. However, let me assure you that I am one hundred percent aware of what a moose knuckle is." He visibly shuddered and adopted a rather disgusted expression. "Quite frankly, the practice of displaying your … your offering in such an poverty manner is simply disgusting."

Rose shrugged and tightened the scrunchie that held half of her viciously curled hair up onto of her head. "Well, for men maybe."

He was positively aghast. "Rose! You can't seriously tell me that that is something you look for and admire."

She bust out laughing. "Oh, by the Gods no. I find it revoltin' actually." She dug her finger into his shoulder. "And if you ever go about and start displaying your goods like that…"

He stared at her, expectantly, with real challenge. "Well? You gonna expand on that threat, then?"

She rolled up onto her toes and smirked into his face. "Liquid Nitrogen and an Ice Pick."

"Oh," he chortled as he dipped down his head to meet her. "That's cold."

"Minus three hundred and fourty six," she breathed out against his lips. "To be precise."

He hummed to hide his amusement, but was unable to withhold it for too long. In short time he burst out laughing and stepped to the side to throw his arm across her shoulder. "You, Rose Tyler, are a hard woman to spar with."

"Not really," she giggled, nestling into his side and threading her arm across his back. "But I learned some zingers from mum growin' up. I steal one from time to time when the situation calls for it."

"I would have love to have met her," he said wistfully.

"Me too, Mark," she agreed with equal softness to her voice. "She'd have loved you – crazy alien and all."

They walked in silence for a moment, just looking around them at the hustle and bustle in the street. It was getting fairly late into the evening, and the sky was dark with looming clouds threatening rain. Neither of them felt any chill, though. There was still quite a bit of residual warmth from the day to keep them comfortable.

"So when are we then?" Rose asked finally.

"1987," Mark answered proudly. "Quite an exciting year, actually. Fiji became a republic, the Baby 'M' case went to trial and was ruled upon with a landmark decision that affected surrogacy for women across the world. The Simpsons aired their very first episode on the Tracey Ullman show. The Order of the Garter was opened to women of the British Isles. Reagan gave his iconic tear down the wall speech in a demand to reunify Germany." He took a breath. "The SN 1987A Supernova – better known as the all seeing eye of eternity by the Gallifreyan peoples – was first seen by the naked eye here on Earth."

Rose chuckled.

"In October there was a great storm that hit Britain, killing 23 people and injuring hundreds. It was the most powerful storm to hit Britain in 200 years."

"Interesting," Rose said with a sigh.

"The European act became effective in 1987," he continued on a lecture. "Bringing the European parliament closer towards the formation of the European Union. The United Kingdom set a high speed train record of 148 miles per hour." He paused and tightened his arm to pull her a bit closer. "But the best thing to happen in 1987 was the birth of one Rose Marion Tyler to parents Jackie and Peter Tyler. Happy birth year, Rose."

Rose nestled in more comfortably against his side and let out a heartfelt sigh of gratitude. "Thanks, Mark."

"You're welcome, Princess."

"You know. You sound just like him," she said with a smile. "I mean your Dad. Whenever he'd materialise, he'd always introduce us to the place with a lecture about the time and the people." She lifted her head to look up at him. "He'd be proud of you."

"Nah," he drawled with a chuckle. "With Dad, it all comes natural to 'im." He tapped at his temple. "He's got all that information from centuries of travel all up there in his head. Me? I just googled it before we left."

"Still impressive," she said with a sigh, staggering her walk enough that she could bump her hip against his. "And don't you think that he didn't TARDIS search his own facts before we materialised. Always trying to be so impressive."

"I thought he was."

"Well, yeah," she sighed out. "He was. Is. Always will be."

Mark frowned. "Looks like you're nosediving into misery again, Rose. We're not here to be miserable."

"No," she agreed with a slight warning in her tone. "We're supposed to be here tracking Weevils."

He rubbed guiltily at the back of his head. "Right," he drawled. "About that."

"There aren't any Weevils, are there?"

"Nope," he popped sheepishly. "Notta one. I just figured you needed a break, that's all. Jack said that this time is free of nonsense and nefarious alien activity." He grinned. "Well. That is. Non-nefarious as fat as Rose and Mark Tyler are concerned of course. Who knows what mischief you and me will find?"

"It terrifies me to consider it," she answered with her brows high.

A shriek from an alleyway only a short distance away from them had Rose and Mark look at each other with expressions of resignation.

"It never fails," she sighed as she dipped into her shirt pocket and retrieved a small firearm." She looked to Mark. "You armed?"

He gave her a firm nod and pointed his hand outward in a gesture for her to run before him. "Age before beauty."

She levered him with a playfully offended glare and then quickly took off at a run toward the scuffle. She listened hard toward the corner to see if she could very quickly make out the number of attackers before they got there so that she could be adequately prepares when they got to the scene. In her peripheral, she could see that Mark was making the same analysis inside his own mind.

"Three," she stated with a pant.

"On one," he added with a growl. "Three men, one woman."

She jagged off to one side of the alleyway entrance and pointed her hand to the other. "Go right, Mark. I'm going left," she ordered with a harsh and loud whisper.

"Got it, Princess," he called back with equal force. "Be careful. I've got your back."

She gave him a wink and pressed her back up against the wall. From the sound of movement, it was clear that the three assailants were very large individuals. Judging by the airy pants and the snorted wet inhales, they were dealing with something off world….

…And if the smell was any indication, probably either Dilp or Grekkont. Neither of which were pleasant individuals – but they weren't the type to go after humans. Whatever they had cornered was obviously another offworlder who just happened to end up at the wrong place at precisely the wrong time…

..Or the right time, if she and Mark could help them out.

She pressed her back into the brick and peered around the corner in an identical movement to Mark. They shared a look and then cast their gaze into the darkness of the alleyway. Underneath the glow of a lone incandescent bulb swinging from a fixture above a set of fire stairs, a tiny blonde woman was being over powered by a trio of attackers.

Only one of them appeared to be from anywhere other than Earth. This should be a rather easy take down.

She looked toward Mark and pointed toward the meele. She mouthed Grekkont and then counted off with her fingers. Three. Two. One.

With synchronised movements, both Mark and Rose stepped into the alley way. They held their small firearms up and in aim toward the alien and approached carefully.

"Back off," Rose bellowed out as she tightened her grip on her weapon and lifted it higher into her line of sight. "Leave the girl alone, you're under arrest."

The male partners of the Grekkont both swore out loudly about the cops and then tore off in opposite directions away from the scene. Nether Mark nor Rose shifted to follow. Both of them were focused on the beast ahead of them that was quickly breaking his more human disguise to become more typical of his species. He lifted his nose to the sky and made a grand show of sniffing the air hungrily. He purred and looked back down toward the pair.

"Time Lords," he snarled.

"Pardon me," Mark corrected with an insulted snarl. "But that would be Lord and Lady, thank you very much." He flicked his eyes toward the blonde who looked as stunned to their arrival as she was terrified to be in this situation to begin with. "Are you okay, love," he called out.

Rose tipped her head to one side in with invitation. "Come round behind us," she called. "We'll handle this one for you."

The blonde woman nodded her head quickly and took a last look toward the now towering beast before she pushed herself from the wall and jogged around to stand in between Mark and Rose.

"Pursuant to section 143, subsection 3a of the Torchwood Offworlder Interference act you are under attest," Rose ordered out sharply. "All offworlders are required under the Shadow Proclamation to notify Torchwood officials upon entering Earth, or any of her territories. This includes the Moon, and any celestial objects that get caught up by natural means within the Earth's gravitational pull." She passed a look to Mark, and waited for him to further refine the aim of his weapon before continuing. She then looked back toward the beast. "There is nothing in any Torchwood logs that show permissions granted for any offworlders in this time, and in this location."

Mark sneered along the muzzle of his gun. "Futher to the charge outlined by my partner. Section 52, subsection 1.13 states that aggression of any form from an offworlder toward a permanently recognised citizen of Earth and her Territories – which include Humans and all indigenous Earth life, as well as offworlders approved for settlement." His lip curled. "Of which I know for a fact you definitely aren't – is illegal and punishable up to and including execution."

The creature narrowed his eyes with mirth and laughed.a bellow of absolute and utter condescension. "And how do either of you propose to do that? Scrawny little Gallifreyean filth and your equally scrawny little weapons." He puffed his chest out and loomed over them. "I am a mighty Grekkont. I am invisible to these pathetic Earth weapons."

Rose kept her eyes on the beast, but tipped her head toward Mark. "He's right, you know. No Earth weapon is effective against the brutes from Grekkonia. Tough hide, bit like natural Kevlar."

"Ahhhh," Mark drawled. He looked down at his weapon. "Yeah. I forgot about that."

The Grekkont bellowed a victorious laugh. "I shall have victory over the last children of Gallifrey tonight!"

"Yeah," Mark sang out with a somewhat forced apologetic curl in his lip. "Sorry to mess with your plans and all. But see. Me and Rose. Yeah, we're Time Lord and Lady, sure." He flicked his eyes to Rose, winked, and then shook his weapon in a single grand movement, like a man cocking a large rifle. "See. I wasn't born on Gallifrey." His weapon shifted from compact and discrete to large and extremely ostentatious. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Rose performed the same manoeuvre and end up with an identical weapon.

He missed the sound of awe from the woman who stood between them, but definitely caught the thrill and command inside Rose's voice as she backed up her partner.

"And neither was I," she snarled out. "So even though we are puny little Time Lords…"

"And Lady," the blonde corrected with a laugh. She looked up to Mark with a wide grin. "Cause I heard you make that correction earlier. Lord. Lady."

"Right," Rose drawled with a curious brow. She shook herself and looked back toward the beast. "So now that we have nice big weapons that are more than capable of taking down a filthy Grekkont, care to surrender yourself?"

He answered with only a low growl.

"Ahh," she breathed out. "I didn't think so,"

"So how do we propose to do this, Rose," Mark asked quietly, his aim still on the beast ahead of them. "We need to get him back to our time and to Torchwood, but we only have a pair of vortex manipulators."

Rose steadied her aim. It didn't look for the moment like the beast was going to try and take on a pair of large firearms any time soon, but he wasn't going to back down, either.

"If we can get a manipulator on his wrist, then we can send him straight into one of the cells at torchwood. Jack won't question it."

"We'll have to program it," Mark agreed. "And make sure it deactivates immediately upon arrival so that he isn't able to leave."

Rose pursed her lips. "Which means, of course, that one of us has to take our eyes and weapon off 'im. Not too big on our chances of keeping it contained with only one weapon, right?"

"It's a thinker," Mark agreed. "I'm a decent multi-tasker and all, but I reckon this is testing my limits a bit."

"I'll take the gun," a small and somewhat excitable voice chirped from in between them. "You program the vortex manipulator and get it on King Kong over there, and me and the Time Lord over here can stand guard." She gave Rose a beaming grin of assurance. "It's quite alright. I've handled plenty like this in the past few years. Happy to help out."

Rose snapped her attention toward the woman. "I'm sorry, what?"

Her excitement fell and her face lengthened as she internally tried to figure out exactly what to say. "Oh. I'm really no good at this, am I?" She held out her hand. "Hi! I'm Jenny. Time Lady, much like you are. Not born on Gallifrey, either, although I think my Dad was." She lifted her eyes, which were still wide with excitement. "Still," she lowered her head into her neck with a lift of her shoulders. "You have no idea just how happy I am to meet you."

"This isn't really the time for introductions," Rose warned in a voice that said she was far more perplexed than angry.

"No, you're right," she agreed with a frown of obedience on her face and a firm nod. "It can wait. Duty calls." She stepped underneath Mark's gun to undo his manipulator. "May I?" she asked with a disarming smile.

Mark's eyes were locked on the girl, and he said nothing to dissuade her from stealing his manipulator.

Rose was having none of that. "If you don't mind! You can't take that!"

"Nah," Mark breathed out curiously. "It's okay, Rose. I say that we let her try. I'm curious as to whether or not… We can always call the TARDIS if she's one of the nefarious ones that he always warns about."

"Not nefarious," se corrected with a shake of her head. "Only on the side of good. Like my Dad. Now if you don't mind: Temporal and location coordinates please." There was order in her tone and a lift in her eyes to look into Mark's face. "Well? Come on, I certainly can't program this if I don't have all of the information, can I?"

Mark's eyes shifted to Rose, and she had to admit that he had a somewhat enamoured look in them as he politely provided her with the information Jenny wanted. Jenny looked up at Rose with seriousness in her youthful eyes. "So provided that the coordinates provided by the Time Lord are in any way accurate, I've entered the coordinates for the cell block back at your Torchwood facility." She snapped the leather cover of it closed and turned back toward the Grekkont. "Now, to figure out how to get it on and not get caught up in the manipulator's vortex pull." She blew out a breath and widened her eyes. "Well. This isn't going to be at all easy, but it's certainly doable."

Jenny looked to the two of them, noted their perplexed expressions and waved her hands. "Well come on. I'm going to need some cover here."

Rose lifted her brows with amusement and shrugged. "Well. You can't say that or life isn't completely mental." She steadied her aim on the Grekkont, who seemed to be just as amused and curious about the proceedings. "Right, Mark. You heard her. Make sure she's got cover."

Everything happened in relative short motion from that moment. As Mark and Rose stood firm and readied to shoot if necessary, Jenny shot forward toward it. She flipped and sprung off her hands to evade the swipe of his large, thick meaty tail. She stepped three steps off the wall to run up and launch onto its shoulders. She waited barely a heartsbeat before flipping in a cartwheel off his shoulder to grab at his wrist. She secured the manipulator with its Velcro fastening and activated the vortex power of it. She barely escaped the pull of the vortex, and only did so with another backflip off the ground that landed her heavily against Mark's chest.

She panted with laughter and thrill as she watched the blue light fully engulf the beast and it disappeared completely from view.

"Woah," she said with a pant. "He's a lot bigger than he was when I first saw him." She turned to look toward Rose with a glint of curiosity in her eye. A frown of study replaced her amused excitement. "You called him a Grekkont, earlier. What can you tell me about him? Oh, and what is Torchwood?"

Mark stepped forward and held out his hand. It was clear to Rose that her best friend was completely and utterly besotted. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Mark. Mark Tyler." He waited a beat. "And this is Rose. It is such a pleasure to meet you."