A/N: Still with me? Two chapters in one day ... can I make it to three?

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The Doctor had the small cellphone held to his ear using his shoulder as he continued his typical dance around the TARDIS console in his attempt to pilot his most faithful companion. He shared his attentions between ship and phone call with flawless brilliance. He knew beyond all doubt that the situation with Jack and Rose was in the realm of extreme duress – he could feel that through his connection with Rose – and so he moved around the console to attempt to find a way for his ship to breech the building so that he could pull them both out.

"Talk to me, Jack," he said on a voice close to begging as he used two fingers to flick matching switches on the console ahead of him. "I don't want to hear about faeces and fans, I want to know exactly what mess the two of you have found yourselves in."

"She's insane," Jack growled through the phone. "And I'm not sure that even you have what it takes to talk her out of it."

That gave the Doctor pause. He dropped the phone into his hand to hold it better against his ear. "What's she doing?"

Jack sighed down the phone, and if the Doctor knew him as well as he thought he did, he would bet that the former Time Agent was rubbing tiredly at his brows. "Doc. We're up against what Rose is calling the Cult of Skaro…"

At that, the Doctor stilled immediately. "Rassilon," he hissed. "Are you absolutely sure about that?"

"Yeah, Rose seems pretty sure of it."

The Doctor shook his head and moved to the TARDIS monitor. He pulled up the database entry outlining the cult and what information the War Council of Gallifrey had on them. "If Rose is right – and I hope to Rassilon that she's not – then you two are up against a breed of Dalek that individually is more dangerous than a full fleet of them."

"I was really hoping that you wouldn't say that, Doc."

"Then let's you and me pray to whatever deity is watching over the universe today that Rose is mistaken." He ran his fingers along the line of text that, surprisingly, wasn't displayed in the TARDIS' usual circular Gallifreyan text. The information on the cult was so dated that it was written in the sharp angled glyphs of Ancient Gallifreyan. "The Cult of Skaro haven't been written about in centuries," he said quietly more to himself than to Jack. "They were considered by Arcadia to be disbanded by order of the Emperor."

"Okay," Jack breathed with a sense of relief. "So Rosie could be mistaken, then."

"Yeah, likely, but I wouldn't lower your guard," The Doctor warned. "A Dalek is still a Dalek and they are still highly volatile dangerous beings that neither of you should even consider taking on without me." He pressed his finger into his lip. "Are the two of you armed?"

"Yeah, with a pair of handguns and a stapler."

"A stapler," he barked incredulously. "Just what in the name of Rassilon do you expect to achieve with a stapler?"

"Buggered if I know, Doc," He grunted in response. "You asked for weapons, and that's about all we have at our disposal."

"You expect to defeat it by posting memos on its armour?"

"Sarcasm is truly unnecessary and really, it's a low form of wit."

"Then don't put forth idiotic arms inventory, Jack. Come on."

"I'll give you idiotic," Jack snarled through the line. "Let's talk about what your bloody Time Lady girlfriend has decided would make a good weapon against these things. And before I fill you in, I'll have you know that I'm not having a great deal of luck in convincing her that it's a bullshit idea."

"Trust her, Jack," he answered with perhaps a hint of pride in his voice. "Rose might have some sensational ideas, but more often than not they work."

"Really," he snarled. "Then let me put this to you. She's talking pure Artron and Huon energy blast – quite possibly a blast a piece with the way she's talking."

The Doctor stilled at that. "Hold on," he replied with a wince of disbelief. "Can you repeat that?"

"You heard me."

The Doctor's expression darkened with horrific speed. His lip curled lightly. "Put her on the phone."

"Say please."

"Pretty please," he droned sardonically.

He waited with mild patience as Jack seemed to argue slightly with Rose on the other end of the line. He couldn't make out the words being spoken between the pair, but he could certainly sense the frustration being shared between them both; and he knew that was a very dangerous combination out in the field.

Finally, a soft voice with a Scottish trill called down the line. "Hello, Doctor."

"I'm on my way," he said quickly, dispensing of any niceties at all. "Whatever you do, don't do whatever it is Jack thinks you want to do. I'm not that far away."

"TARDIS can't get in," Rose suggested with a sigh. "Can she?"

"She can always get in," he countered coolly. "Don't you worry about the Old Girl. She has what it takes."

"If that was true, Doctor. You'd already be here," She answered with a sigh. Her voice softened. "Now don't you go about worrying about us. Me 'n Jack. We've got it in hand. We'll handle the boys of Skaro and make sure they don't get the Genesis Ark open."

He had to cough at that revelation. "A Genesis Ark? Are you absolutely sure about that," he whispered hoarsely down the phone. "Are you absolutely sure that they've got an Ark in their possession, Rose."

"Yes."

"Then you and Jack need to find a place to hide out until I can get there. And I promise you I'll be there soon."

"But…"

"No buts, Rose," he said quickly. "All it will take is one touch. One. Just one. A single touch by either of you and that Ark will open to unleash whatever horror the Time Lords put in there. Rose," he warned worriedly. "There's no telling what's inside that thing. It could be nothing, or it could be an entire Dalek battle fleet." He rubbed at his cheek with his finger. "Whatever you do please stay away from it."

"I will," she assured him softly. "I can only guess what they have in there."

"Most likely a million or so of their Dalek brothers," he growled. "If I can get to it, I am able to fix it so that it can't be opened by anyone except a Time Lord, but I can't do it if one or both of you go and do something stupid like touch it… or…"

"Or what, Doctor?"

"Jack mentioned that you were possibly thinking of activating spontaneous regeneration…"

"Hold on. I can do that? Just spontaneously do it? I don't have to kill myself – or get killed?"

"Well, yeah. You can, but why would you? It's a waste of a few hundred years…"

"But I can? That's very interesting to know. So then, how does one do that then?"

The Doctor had to think quick. "Oh no. No. No no no no no. No. No. You can't. No. Not possible, Rose. You're still within your regeneration cycle. Fifteen hours, remember? Remember what I said Christmas Day? When I lost my hand? Fifteen Hours."

"Oh…"

"Yes," he continued quickly. "Very Oh. Sorry, Rose, but you can't do it. You won't regenerate if you're already mid-regeneration." He grinned at the time rotor and gave a victorious fist pump beside his hip at his obvious brilliance. "So no trying to get all flashy twinkle lights, okay? It's an inventive and, if I must admit it, a very brilliant idea, but it simply won't work this time around." He started to walk around the console. "And then, of course, do factor in that it's a very hard thing to control for a seasoned Time Lord. If a Time Rookie tries to play with channeling Artron and Huon, then. Yeah. Universal boom."

"Then what do you suggest oh seasoned Lord of Time?"

No doubting the annoyed sarcasm in that flat delivery.

"Wait for me," he answered simply with a short clearing of his throat. "Me and the old girl have a plan." He grinned wide enough that the grin could be heard down the line. "We always have a plan. Planning, it's what she and I do best, TARDIS and me. Lots of plotting and planning."

"Uh-huh."

"Don't give up on me, Rose Tyler," he chided. "I'm an old hand at this. Dalek schmalek. They can TARDIS proof all they want. It won't stop this Time Lord and his beautiful ship from getting in." He petted the console. "Isn't that right, you gorgeous old girl?"

"You don't have a plan at all, do you?"

"Of course I do," he snapped indignantly. "Don't you start doubting me and just how quickly my mind works when it involves you, my lovely Rose Tyler."

"I don't even know where to begin with that," she huffed down the line. Her breath hitched and it was clear down the line that she had begun to run. A call to Jack confirmed that time was coming to a close. "We're out of time," she warned him. "Me and Jack can probably play Dalek avoidance for another couple of minutes. After that Doctor." She paused to swallow. "I'm going to have to get creative."

"Please don't," he begged quietly.

"We can't let them get out, Doctor."

"I'm on my way," he vowed quietly. "I'm coming."

"I know," She panted. "I love you, you know that, yeah? You damn daft Alien … Oh shit Jack!"

The line cut dead. The Doctor yelled into the phone as though his panicked voice was enough to bring back connection. It took several horrified cries of her name into the small black phone before he gave up and tossed the thing onto the console of the TARDIS.

"What in Rassilon are we going to do, Old girl," he rhetorically asked his ship. "I have no plan, and no way to get in there to get them out."

"Front door," Nancy offered meekly from behind him.

He shifted his head as though to look at her over his shoulder, but kept his eyes closed. "We wouldn't get past reception." He turned his head back and opened his eyes to look solemnly at the Time Rotor column.

"So these Dalek things. I guess they're bad. Is there nothing at all you can do to stop them?"

He let out a short and single huff of a laugh. "Oh. There's plenty I can do to stop them. Yeah, got plenty of experience in dispatching the pepper pots of hate." He blew out a breath. "I'm not particularly worried about the terrible foursome. I am, however…" He paused a moment. Maybe for dramatics, maybe to take a breath, or maybe just because he didn't want to admit it. "I'm scared for my friends in there. I can't let them down. I won't. But." He growled and grabbed at his hair. "But what can I do? They're out of time, and we're stuck here in the Vortex. Even if we can find a point of materialization, it'd take too long for us to be able to get anywhere near Rose and Jack to save them."

"There's no way at all, Doctor?"

He shook his head. "I can't think of anything."

"But this is a Time Machine. Can't you go back in time to before Rose and Jack walked into Torchwood and…"

"We're part of events now, Nancy," he lectured softly. "The Laws of Time are very clear on not going back into our own Time Stream."

"Well screw the Laws," she snapped. "Aren't you the last of the Time Police anyway? Who's going to bring you to task for breaking a little rule? Hmmmm?"

He leveled a wide-eyed look oh annoyance at her. "Are you seriously trying to tell me that I should break the laws of time for my own benefit?"

"Well, yeah."

He shook his head. "It isn't as simple as that, Nancy. Time. It's an intricate and vulnerable thing…."

"And blah blah," she moaned with a wave of her hand. "From what I heard from Jack, you go about changing the past all the time…"

"When it's safe to do it," he barked back. "Right now. Here. No. It's not. I can't. I just can't."

"Then you'd better think of something," she warned him as she moved back to sit on the jump seat. "Or you're going to lose her and once again be on your own in the universe."

He pressed his hands into the console and bowed his head with a slouch of his shoulders. His thumbs lightly, absently, instinctively, stroked along the console. "What to do, TARDIS, old girl. What to do?"

She hummed under his hands and coaxed his attention to her by intensifying the green light inside her rotor column.

The Doctor quickly raised his eyes and stared into the column with widening eyes. "Oh. No. No. We can't do that." His lips pursed, however, as he considered the images she played in his mind. "Well. Yeah. It could work. Sure it could." He closed his eyes and tipped his head to the side in concentration. "The Theory is sound, your calculations true, but. No. Nothing like that has ever been done with Lord and Machine."

He let out a laugh. "First time for everything, TARDIS? Really? You've been listening to Rose Tyler far too much."

He stalked a pace in front of the monitor. "We've got a thirty-percent chance of success if we do this, old girl. That's a seventy percent shot that neither of us will walk away from this. Are you prepared to take that chance? You're the last of your kind…" Her console sparked in response. "Okay. Okay. No need to get tetchy. Let me make my own calculations here."

Nancy swallowed watching the Doctor talk to himself like some crazy dude walking a street corner in the middle of a London night. "Everything okay with you, Doctor?"

He nodded suddenly and jogged over to the console. He autonomously plucked his glasses from his pocket and slipped them onto his face. Without word his fingers flew over the keyboard as he analyzed the quickly scrolling text on screen. He paused a moment to double-check. Then he smiled a wide grin and stabbed his finger against two keys on the board with exaggerated movements of his hands and a twist in his body that was almost a full spin.

"Oh, you beautiful girl," he purred with a two-handed grip at the column that allowed him to rise up and press a loud smack of a kiss against it. "Brilliant! Just brilliant."

"So you have a plan," Nancy practically cheered as she jumped off the jump seat and bounced on her toes beside him. "So what are we doing?"

He stilled with his back to her. "Well. First things first," he began slowly with a lick at his lip. "I'm taking you home."

"What?"

He didn't turn to her, instead he kept his hands on the console and his eyes on the Rotor. "What we have to do. It's dangerous. There's a rather high probability that TARDIS and I won't walk out in one piece, and I won't put you in danger like that."

"But…"

He flicked the materialization lever and then spun and gave her his best and most assuring smile. "But don't worry about us. Me and TARDIS, we're probably going to be just fine. Probability is probability, and I kind of like the odds, actually."

"And even if you walk out?"

The TARDIS levelled out and silenced around them. The Doctor pulled off the console and approached his companion with an apologetic smile. He set his hands on her shoulders. "This is goodbye, Nancy, even if I do walk out." He smiled weakly. "Our time has come to an end."

"Meanwhile," she muttered. "You and Rose…"

"Have a lot to work out, and it's better that we do it without an audience."

She pressed her lips together and nodded. "And just like that … I'm banished?"

The Doctor chuckled a breathy laugh and hugged her. "Not banished, Nancy. Just on sabbatical." He pulled back and took her hand to walk her to the doors of the TARDIS. "I've set us down in the carpark outside your flat about a week after I originally…"

"Picked me up," she finished with a light tease in her tone. "One week, eh?"

"Just one."

She backed out of the TARDIS doors, holding onto his hands to pull his arms along with her. He allowed the tug of his arms until they'd been stretched to their limit and he was forced to step forward to maintain the hold. With a shake of his head, he pulled his hands free. "It's been quite a ride, hasn't it," he murmured with a smile as he folded his arms across his chest and leaned his shoulder against the door of the TARDIS.

"Yeah," she answered as she hooked her hair over her ear and gave him a smile. "Trouble's still a few months away, isn't it?"

He nodded and looked out into the distance. "A few months." He let his eyes slide back to her. "And I really should get back there. You know. Rose and Jack. They need me."

Nancy smiled and shielded her eyes from the sunlight behind the TARDIS with her hand. "Thanks, Doctor. For everything."

"No," he said with a pilot bow. "Thank you, Nancy Simmonds. Now do us both a favour and live a brilliant life. That's all I ask."

"You too, Doctor."

Impatient to leave, the Doctor curled himself around the door and shut it quickly behind him as he bounded up to the console of his craft. In short time he had the TARDIS hovering in the vortex.

He rubbed his hands together and pulled up the sleeves of his blazer. He licked at his lip and planted his Converse-covered feet securely against the grating on the floor. Like a man readying to touch a flame, he wriggled his fingers in front of him and hovered them slightly off the column in the centre of the console.

"You ready for this, old girl?" He flicked his head to one side as one side of his mouth curled into a smile. "You just know this is going to hurt."

She replied with a determined hum in his mind and he blew out a breath. "Oh-kay," he breathed slowly as he pressed a hand either side of the rotor and steadied himself. "It's all up to you now, girl. I'm trusting you, so don't let us down."