"About that. We need to talk."

The Doctor used to lie. Quite often, and for many reasons. Sometimes he still did, but not to Rose. Never to Rose. Not anymore, after one of his lies had nearly gotten him killed and almost destroyed their relationship. Whatever happened now, they were in it together. She had to know about this.

He took Rose's hand and led her over to the table where the device was resting, still silent and dark. She looked up at him wonderingly.

"Do you know what this thing is?"

She scrunched her face up, thinking hard. "Not particularly. It must be dangerous, yeah, especially if it was stored in a vault?"

"Well, it is dangerous, but not to us. Not in the way you're thinking anyway. But I can't get it working, Rose, and I need it to work. You have no idea."

"You're scaring me."

He placed his palm on her cheek and looked deep into her eyes. "I'm sorry. But I'm a bit scared myself at the moment." He swallowed, then put his hand into his jacket pocket, reaching impossibly deep, and pulled out a small object- a metal tube-shaped thing with a strip of lights all down one of its sides. All of the lights were flashing, and it was vibrating slightly. Rose felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Do you remember this?"

How could she forget? He'd shown it to her for the first time only a few weeks ago, on the night when they'd decided no more secrets. Had explained to her precisely what it was for, that he'd built it almost immediately after his arrival in this universe, and the terrifying reason why he kept it in his pocket at all times.

"It's your Void breach detector," she responded finally, looking at him with fear in her eyes. "Why is it flashing?"

She asked the question, but she already knew why.

He answered her anyway. "Because something has come. From out of the Void."

Halfway across town, another Time Lord was having similar frustrations with a very different piece of machinery. Well, the TARDIS was actually far from being a piece of machinery, and normally anyone she heard calling her that would get a zap from the next surface they touched.

But the Doctor hadn't been zapped, or tripped, or had his seat taken out from under him, and he'd said it at least fifteen times in the last hour, usually preceded by the word bloody (or something even ruder).

This had him very worried indeed.

Down in Power Room 4, he turned on the last of the emergency quantum field generators, and this time was rewarded by a faint humming sound. Immediately off and running through the dark corridors back to the console room, he whooped for joy when he saw that the Time Rotor, though still unmoving, was now dimly lit, and so was the rest of the console.

He knew that recovery time was likely more responsible for this improvement rather than anything he'd actually done, but he couldn't have cared less as he plopped down on the chair in front of the monitor and flipped the switch. The screen glowed a dull blue for a few seconds and he impatiently smacked the side of it, grinning widely when it flashed and then showed a perfect view of the alley outside. It was working!

The signal wasn't strong enough for him to do any kind of extended search with it yet, but it would be. He could wait.

Soon the ship would also have enough power for him to call Amy. Or if need be, scan for her and Rory's unique energy signature, since they were now covered in Void stuff. He felt a smidgen of guilt at the thought, especially since it reminded him of the several other people on this planet who were also covered in the stuff, thanks to him. He shook it off. It wouldn't hurt them, not unless he had to open another gaping hole into the Void, and he didn't see that happening anytime soon. It did hinder his scanning capabilities for the time being- he didn't really want to use the method to try and find Amy, and end up with one Jackie Tyler on his hands. Anyway, he wasn't too worried about the Ponds, not really, not yet, since it was still early afternoon.

Still, he wouldn't mind being reassured that they were alright.

He had plenty of other things to worry about, without worrying about the Ponds too.

Like the prospect of having to search out and actually speak with his other self. That was the least he was going to have to do, now that he was here. Find him, drag him back to the TARDIS, give him whatever he needed to solve their problem, swear him to secrecy, then hightail it back to his own universe immediately thereafter. Preferably without Rose ever even hearing about his presence or involvement.

At least his double had a biological signature like none other. It would make it easy to track him down. There was absolutely no way he was going anywhere near Torchwood- or the Tyler estate, for that matter. He smiled as he imagined himself snatching his unwitting meta-crisis off the street, like a Mob boss tracking a snitch, shoving him into backseat of a car, and hauling him off for questioning. He had a feeling that was how the other Doctor was going to see the whole thing anyway, no matter how he handled it.

In fact, if he were him, (and he used to be, so he should know) this whole thing would be his worst nightmare.

Pushing aside such ideas for the time being, the Doctor turned his attention back to the monitor, and noticed there was now enough power to tap into the internet. He should really do some investigating, he thought, and at least do a search on Rose's name to try and see if he could gain a bit more insight into what he might be dealing with. Her family was well-known here, thanks to Pete, and perhaps whatever was going on had even made the news.

He started typing her name, but then froze as a thought struck him. Because not even the TARDIS would filter out the pertinent articles about her from the personal ones, and he just wasn't ready to deal with that yet. It was hard enough getting used to the idea of being within reach of her (for the first time in more years than he cared to think about), yet knowing she was just as off-limits as she'd always been.

Probably.

Balling his fists tightly, he shook his head in an attempt to clear it of the unbidden thought, but it had set up camp and utterly refused to be budged. Oh, he knew better than to let himself hope, he was an absolute idiot, but it was there anyway. A tiny hot spark which, if he was honest, had appeared long before he'd found the gun, and had grown exponentially since he'd landed here. A stubborn, burning, persistent little what if.

Once he'd finally recognized and accepted that the TARDIS wanted him to come back to this universe, he'd focused all his thought and effort onto just that- the cold, concrete mechanics of getting here. He'd been telling himself not to dwell on what would happen next, not to think about what if he actually succeeded, or else he'd never be able to make himself carry it out.

With sudden but perfect clarity, he realized that he'd been lying to himself all along. That 'what if' would never have kept him from coming here, despite its likelihood of bringing nothing but disappointment and heartbreak. Truth was, the pinprick of hope contained in those two little words had meant that nothing could have stopped him.

Now he was here. In Rose's universe.

And she needed him, apparently.

He wasn't sure if he should be terrified or exhilarated by that thought.

It was that time of day, early afternoon, when time is slow, and the very air feels thick and drowsy. Amy was getting tired. And maybe, just the teensiest bit bored. After a lunch which was completely uneventful (except for Amy's experience with a popular local drink she'd tried, called Vitex, which ended up being a flavorless, horrid, greenish concoction) they'd strolled until finding themselves in the midst of London's West End. Of course, there was more than enough to see and do, with it being the theatre district, but all in all it was very similar as the same part of the city in their London, and Amy and Rory had been many times. It just wasn't at all alienish, or even very weird.

So she may admit to being a bit tired and bored, but again, there was good reason for that. She was absolutely not cranky.

Rory was sorry he'd suggested it.

"This London is definitely dirtier than ours, and that's saying something. I mean, seriously, why would someone just throw this on the ground when there are rubbish bins everywhere?" she complained, kicking at a fast food bag that a sudden gust of wind had sent directly across their path. Rory watched it as it skittered a few feet away and caught against the wall of the brick building to their right, looking entirely at home with the various wrappers and papers and odd soda can, which had also taken up residence there.

"Why don't you pick it up, then? You know, do your part." Rory was tired too.

She looked him in disbelief. "This isn't even our planet, Rory!" as if that explained everything. "How are the people here going to learn to clean up after themselves, if a bunch of alien strangers are always coming in and doing it for them?"

Rory didn't figure that was likely much of a problem, but thought he'd better start keeping his comments to himself.

"And I wonder what all these signs about a midnight curfew are all about? Think the crime is that bad, or is it an oppressive government trying to control everyone's lives? I mean, what if later on we decide we want to go to-" she craned her neck around, searching for an example, "that club over there, the Cyber Club." She waved a blue-polished fingertip toward a seedy-looking place across the street, which came complete with frightening-looking men lurking about its entrance. "Will we be arrested if we simply lose track of time and come out a bit too late? Tell me that's not oppression!"

"You do realize that place looks more dangerous than some of the alien prisons we've been in, right?"

She huffed an irritated breath in Rory's general direction. "That's not the point, moron! Like I said, it's oppression! If the Doctor was here, he'd want to do something about it!"

Again, Rory seriously doubted the validity of that statement, but recognized a way to change the subject when he saw one. "Speaking of, why do you think he was so keen on staying in the TARDIS instead of coming with us today? He seemed worried enough last night about us going out alone, but this morning we were barely out the door before he practically slammed it shut behind us. You think he's still hiding something?"

Amy didn't answer, simply shrugging as they continued walking, but she did tighten her grip on Rory's hand. He glanced down at her face and saw that it was drawn and pensive, all the fire having left her. Rory frowned at this. He was seriously considering bringing up the alleged governmental oppression again when a large signboard, done up rather plainly in muted blacks and grays, unexpectedly caught his eye.

It was just one of those theatre/music venue placards, sitting unobtrusively on the side of the pavement, and being in the West End, they'd passed several of them already without paying much attention. However, Rory was beyond glad this one had caught his eye.

"You're kidding me!" he exclaimed, pulling on Amy's hand as he came to an abrupt halt. "Can this possibly be right?"

Blinking confusedly, she looked down to where he was pointing. Then gasped, wide eyed, as she beheld a very familiar face.

Rose watched in silence as her Doctor carefully clamped thick black wires from what looked like a car battery to the metal knobs on the back side of the device. A bio-scanner, he'd said it was. From a Kratan airship. Not as sophisticated as the one in the TARDIS by far, couldn't scan an entire planet in minutes like that one could. But plenty good enough for what he needed it to do.

Her eyes had long since grown used to the darkness in the lab, but as she stood there, Rose felt a growing desire to run across the room and flip every single one of the overhead lights on. Like she was a little child, with the firm belief that the brightness of a few lights would protect her from the monsters. Shivering, she stepped closer to her husband, close as she could get without actually touching him, and drew comfort from his proximity and warmth and the air of confidence he always exuded, in even the most dire of situations. And then she stepped away, feeling silly, and more than a little angry with herself. She needed to get a grip!

"There we are!" the Doctor said, finishing his task and stepping back, seemingly unaware of Rose's inner turmoil. Good. "Maybe all it needs is a good charging up. This thing looks like it's quite old actually, a few decades at least, probably been a while since it's been used," he said. His voice was casual, but Rose caught him watching her worriedly from the corner of his eye. Maybe not so unaware then. She leaned against his arm and smiled up at him.

"I'm okay. I'll be better when you get that thing working." She backed up to the battered sofa residing against the wall behind them and sat on it heavily, snuggling under the Doctor's arm when he joined her seconds later. "So why was it hiding away in a vault if it isn't dangerous? S'only a bio-scanner. Probably would've been useful before now."

The Doctor sighed, and Rose knew he'd been hoping she wouldn't ask about that.

"Yeah, a bit too useful, I'm afraid," he said, slowly. "Rose, you know how I feel about Torchwood. I agree that here it has been a better organization than the one in our old universe. But you also know that I feel it has been a bit heavy-handed at times, in the way it has treated peaceful travelers who were simply looking for a safe place to live. If Torchwood knew that they possessed a piece of equipment that could instantly give them the real-time location of every sentient being not native to this planet-"

"They'd track them all down and process them," she concluded softly. He looked at her fully then, and she met his surprised brown eyes. "It's policy. But you just want them to be left in peace. I know you think I'd take Torchwood's side on that, but I don't. I know what it's like, well as you do, to be an alien not on my native planet. And I see it your way. M'glad you hid it."

He tightened his arm around her and pressed his lips against her hair.

"But I'm not glad you didn't tell me about the Void breach detector going off right away when it happened. You should've woken me up, Doctor! We could have been working on this together today. You promised to stop hiding things from me."

He made a regretful noise. "I'm sorry, Rose. When it went off last night I was shocked, to say the least. I built the thing as a precaution, since this universe has had more than its fair share of trouble with breaches, and rifts and the like, but I never thought anything would ever actually happen. And then I started calculating the actual probabilities for lack of anything else I could do about it at the moment, and they were so low that I started hoping the thing was just malfunctioning. I didn't want to worry you over nothing."

"Do you think it's malfunctioning? Really?"

He swallowed and looked at the floor. "No, I don't," he said, quietly. "But I was hoping. I'm still hoping, to be honest. I haven't proof of anything yet. The first thing I did when we arrived this morning was go down to the Dungeon with the old 3D glasses, to see if any of the aliens brought in last night had Void stuff on them. None did, obviously. But I'll know for sure, once that scanner is up and running. It should find only ten people on this planet who have the energy signature that only crossing the Void can give, and any number it finds above that is, well, a problem."

"You have any idea how we're gonna deal with that problem?"

At one time that question would have been accompanied by a huge grin, but today Rose couldn't quite manage it. A possible Cyberman/Dalek invasion was never anything to joke about, and made even the recent nearly successful attempts on her husband's life pale in comparison. They'd dealt with this before, sure, but now they had no TARDIS. If he were gravely injured he couldn't regenerate. One chance at a life together, and it seemed like no matter what universe they were in, it conspired against them. Was determined to separate them. It just wasn't fair.

It seemed as if he could read the melancholy turn of her thoughts, because suddenly cool fingers were under her chin. His compassionate dark eyes sought out her anxious ones.

"We'll always be alright, you and me," he said, echoing her words to him from so long ago. "Soon as I figure out what we're dealing with, we'll come up with a plan. We're the Doctor and Rose, remember? Stuff of legends." He grinned broadly, but his eyes were tired, and Rose knew he was trying to convince himself as much as her.