The Doctor was idly moving his food around on his plate with his fork. He had planned on just having some soup and maybe a salad, but Jack had had other ideas and had ordered for him, insisting he tried some of the restaurant's specialties. The hummus appetizer had been excellent, smooth texture, the slight acid taste of lemon, balanced by a nutty flavor of a fine olive oil. The pita bread had been soft, but not doughy, a perfect back drop to the hummus it held.

It should have been a fantastic experience and indeed it had been, until he swallowed and his stomach knotted itself against the food, resulting in him feeling as if he had consumed a rock, one with extremely sharp points. The feeling was so intense for a few brief moments he feared he had been poisoned. But a quick glance at Jack, who was eating it with no ill effects eased his mind enough that he was able to assess the situation clinically. He closed his eyes and concentrated, pretending to be savoring his food. His stomach was tense, not producing any digestive juices and there was no peristaltic action to move the food along. This was going to be a very difficult and painful meal to get through.

He chose to disguise his discomfort by chattering away about the storm, whose fury was visible from inside the glass walled restaurant. He talked about the last time he had eaten there, the various ways Blon had tried to kill him and how laughably ineffective they all were. He talked about anything that came to his mind, so long as he kept his mouth occupied with words and not food. All the time holding a piece of pita in his hand, gesturing with it as he talked, using it to point out features of the storm, where the table where he and Blon had sat, waving it all around as he used it to illustrate whatever he was talking about, but never letting it near his mouth. Unable to get a word in, Jack had eaten the rest of the appetizer on his own.

But now the main course was in front of him and it was apparent he hadn't eaten a single bite of his shish kebab and had only made a token effort with the rice pilaf, while Jack was almost finished with his. Even with his tea the Doctor had only managed a sip or two.

"I thought you said you were hungry?" Jack asked. "Don't you like the food?"

The Doctor took a deep breath as he considered his response. Blaming the food would be easy, but a quick glance at the hovering waiter told him his dish would be swept away and he would be fussed over until they found something he did like. "The food's fine. I just lost my appetite that's all, probably the company," he said with a smile.

"You had no problem with the company this morning," replied Jack, playing along, to the Doctor's relief.

"Yes, well, you might have a point, except you were hardly at the table if you remember."

Jack suddenly became serious. "Are you sure you're alright? You don't look well."

"I'm fine, stomach's just a bit off. It's really nothing. It will straighten itself out shortly. Now if you'll excuse me."

The Doctor pushed back from the table, his chair sliding along the floor with a screech as he did so. He quickly made his way to the restroom. He gave a worried glance over his shoulder, making sure the captain wasn't following him before entering. To his relief the facility was unoccupied. He promptly entered a stall and emptied the contents of his stomach. It was a voluntary not an involuntary action, though still a rather unpleasant experience that caused him to screw his face up in disgust. He quickly went to the sink where he cupped his hand under the tap using the cold water to rinse the horrid aftertaste from his mouth.

Water however, proved ineffective to totally remove the aftereffects of the emesis, so he reached into the left outside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a strong and very effective mouth wash. He took his time with it, moving the solution back and forth in his mouth, feeling it dissolve the unpleasant tasting material that the water had been unable to remove. After he spat it out into the sink, he ran his tongue along his teeth and the roof of his mouth. Nice and clean with no silly after taste like spearmint, that would taint the flavor of anything he ate afterwards.

He splashed his face with the water and reached into the wicker basket that sat on the counter filled with neatly folded thick clean hand towels. He grabbed one of the cloth towels out the basket and used it to pat his face dry. As he finished, he looked up at his reflection in the mirror. It startled him to see the haggard face peering back at him, the sallow complexion, the dull sunken eyes. He sighed, he was in bad shape. If he didn't want Jack following him around like an over anxious nursemaid, he was going to have to do something.

Reluctantly he reached deep into his breast pocket and pulled out a small packet of red pills, so bright they almost seemed to be strobing, a warning sign he was about to ignore. They were from Gallifrey and would fix him right up, get his stomach working again and put the color back in his face, but there was, as with all things, a price to pay. When the crash came it would be spectacular, almost narcoleptic in nature. They were also highly addictive, taking two within a single day almost a guarantee of a lifetime dependency. A dependency that had been known to endure past regeneration. The crash should not be a concern. If he had the timing right, he would be fast asleep when that occurred. Maybe for once getting a restful night's sleep as a result.

He held a pill in his hand as he considered his options, weighing the pros and cons. One, just one, wouldn't be a problem. He was taking it for its physical effects, as the medication it was originally meant to be. It's why he carried them after all, for occasions such as this. If he wasn't better in the morning he would seek help. It was just to get through this evening, nothing more.

Suddenly, he felt or saw something over his right shoulder at the very edge of his vision. He turned quickly but nothing was there. Just a bit of paranoia on his part he assured himself, probably his subconscious worrying Jack would be coming in to check on him soon. He quickly swallowed the pill and chased it with a handful of water.

He picked the packet of remaining pills off the counter, wondering if he had made the right decision in taking one. Or had his fear of Jack walking in on him, rushed him into an ill considered action? Too late now to change his mind, he could feel the drug entering his blood stream, he wouldn't be able to get rid of it has he had the appetizer. He looked briefly at the restroom stalls. Flushing the rest of the pills would prevent him from making the wrong choice later. Instead he put them back in his pocket, telling himself he could get rid of them later if he needed to.

Studying his reflection, he saw the effects of the pill were already taking place. He looked much better. His color was back, his eyes were clear and bright. He smiled at his image, brilliant! A quick finger comb of his hair and he was perfect, ready to face Jack and the rest of the dinner, if not the world. He patted the pocket where the pills were, glad he had decided to keep them. How could anything that made him feel so good be bad? A finger of doubt in the back of his brain warned him that kind of reaction was exactly what made them so dangerous. "Nonsense,"he thought. "I can handle it. I am the Doctor after all."

With an exuberant bound he was at the restroom door, opening it with such vigor he almost hit Jack square in the face. Fortunately the captain's reflexes were such that he jumped back in the nick of time, the door missing him by the slightest of margins.

"Whoa there, you might want to slow down a bit," exclaimed Jack. "I was just about to check on you, feeling better I gather?"

"Yes, I am, thank you," replied the Doctor. "In fact, I would like to get back to dinner, I feel positively ravenous." His stomach growled in agreement.

"Ah, that might be a problem," Jack said sheepishly looking down at the floor as he scratched his head. "I had the waiter take it away."

"You what? My dinner? What did you do that for?" asked the Doctor as he bounded over to the table to see his place had been cleared. "Have him bring it back!"

"It's too late, it's already in the bin most likely," explained Jack as he pulled out the Doctor's chair for him. "Come on, sit down, we'll order you something else."

"Just order what you did before," replied the Doctor as he sat down. "There was nothing wrong with it. I told you my stomach would sort itself out soon and it did. I can't believe you had them throw out my dinner!"

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry. I had no idea you still intended to eat it," explained Jack. "What did you do by the way? I've never see someone turn around as fast as you have."

"What, you working for the Atterians now? I've had my personal life poked into quite enough for one day, thank you very much. I just freshened up a bit. Now why don't you get that waiter to bring me something to eat. You can start with some of that hummus. You ate so much of it I barely got more than a sample."

Jack rolled his eyes. "You were the one… Oh, never mind." He looked over at the waiter, who nodded. "It will be coming right up."

"Good," the Doctor put his hand on the pot of tea, "and any chance we can get some hot tea? This appears to have gone a bit cold."

Before the Doctor finished the sentence the maitre'd appeared to take cold pot away and replace it with a new one.

"Well, that's efficient," stated the Doctor, pleased with the service. Soon he had his tea, hummus, and pita bread. He made quick work of them, barely taking the time to enjoy the flavor and texture. Jack had a bemused expression on his face as he watched the Doctor wolf down food that he had barely been willing to touch earlier.

When he finished the appetizer, the Doctor looked at Jack and realized something was on the captain's mind. "Well, out with it."

"Out with what?" asked Jack.

"Out with whatever it is that's bothering you. I don't need you staring at me, waiting for the right moment. The right moment is now, before my entrée comes. So what is it?"

Jack shook his head. "Nothing, nothing really, it's just…"

"Just what?"

"You'd let me know if something was wrong, wouldn't you? I have people I am responsible for now. I need to be to be sure they are safe."

"What? You think I'm a danger?" asked the Doctor, offended at the suggestion.

"No, no, not at all. It's just, you seem different, secretive. I need to make sure there's nothing going on that could be a danger for Torchwood."

"You have my word, everything is quite innocent. The TARDIS is upset with me because I was careless and let her fuel get too low. In fact that is why we had such a rough landing, she was running on fumes as it were. Entirely my fault, she tried to warn me and I ignored her. Nothing you or Torchwood needs to worry about."

"And she's pushing everyone else away, because?"

"She's just cranky, doesn't want anyone getting near her. Most likely she's upset that rift isn't putting out as much fuel as it used to. She'll settle once she gets close to being topped up," the Doctor explained with an assurance he didn't feel.

"And you?" asked Jack as the Doctor was again served shish kebab by the confused waiter.

"I'm fine. I just had an upset stomach, nothing more. No need to start an investigation over it." The Doctor proceeded to apply himself to his food.

"Alright, you win, just promise me you'll tell me if you need help."

The Doctor swallowed before responding, "Of course I will, why wouldn't I? Thank you by the way, this food is delicious."

The food was indeed quite good and the Doctor ate it eagerly, sure that he would be better in the morning. The pill was just providing a needed break from whatever was wrong with him. With two good meals inside him today and a sound night's rest assured when the pill wore off, he would be ready for anything the next day had to offer. Everything would all work out brilliantly. The TARDIS couldn't stay angry at him forever. She needed him as much as he needed her. All his worry had been pure foolishness.

He'd only been partially paying attention to Jack as he ate. Enjoying the food and his good mood too much to want to listen to the day to day bureaucratic problems Jack had to deal with, but then something Jack was saying sparked his interest.

"So every single truck in Harwood's car park had to have its solenoid replaced," Jack was saying.

"Really? Any idea why?" asked the Doctor.

"They don't know how it was done. but they all had been burned from an overvoltage," Jack replied.

"An overvoltage, that is odd. So they suspect vandalism then."

"Yes, most likely, though very sophisticated vandalism. Not some random gang of teenagers. All the cabs were locked and the bonnet release in on the inside. There was no sign of tampering of the locks on the cabs or the locking mechanism for the bonnets. There wasn't a mark on any of the lorries. So the local authorities figure it's some fringe group. Rhys suspects it might be an animal rights group. They just signed a contract with a large meat packing house that has had problems with them in the past."

"You don't sound like you're convinced," commented the Doctor between bites of his meal.

Jack rubbed his chin before answering. "I'm not. The groups that have caused trouble for the packing house always leave a calling card. Letting everyone know why the damage was being done. Here, there was nothing."

"They could have been scared off before they had a chance to leave their message. Any other cases of this kind of damage?" asked the Doctor, intrigued by the mystery.

"No, and the locals have even checked with Interpol. This is an entirely new kind of attack. Harwood's has taken precautions though and tightened up security in their car parks. It won't happen to them again at least."

"So that's it then. No further involvement from you or Torchwood?" asked the Doctor.

"No, the local police can handle it."

"Too bad, it could have been interesting," stated the Doctor as he finished his meal.

"If they get stuck, I'll offer your services, how's that?"

"Fair enough. Well, shall we be off then? I'm sure you need to get back and I do have a few more things in that store room of yours I want to take a look at."

"Let me get the check first." Jack signaled the waiter, who understood and left to tot up the bill. "Now, about you looking at things in the store room. Could you at least ask me before you destroy something?"

"Surely you didn't want that conversion unit to remain functional?"

"No, no, I didn't, but I don't want the only thing to show for your being here be a pile of scrap either. Try to find something that might help us, will you?"

"Help you what? Jack, you know the dangers of a civilization progressing too fast."

"Yes, but…" Jack was interrupted by the waiter returning with the bill. He took the leather folder containing the final total from him, gave it a glance, and promptly returned it to the waiter with enough cash in it to elicit a smile and a little bow from the man before he left.

"Come on, let's go," Jack said as he stood up. "We can discuss your job description on the way to the Hub."

"No need, I get your meaning," replied the Doctor, deciding he would just have to be more circumspect in the future when he destroyed something humans weren't ready for.

Jack studied the Doctor carefully, "That was too easy, What, no arguments? Are you sure you're okay? I could take you back to the hotel if you want."

"I'm fine, can't I be cooperative occasionally?" asked the Doctor as he put on his coat.

"Not from what I've observed," replied Jack.

"Well I can be," stated the Doctor and with a flourish he held the door open for Jack, emphasizing his point.

"Okay, okay," replied Jack with a laugh. "I believe you."

"Good," said the Doctor, letting the door close behind them. "Now, can you tell me, how did a device from Gallifrey wind up in your store room?"