A/N: Yes, I'm a day late again (I'm really good at being late recently, huh?). But I have good news! My first novel (which I wrote when I was like fourteen and got a contract for five years ago when I was eighteen and which finally came out two years ago as an ebook-only release *pause for breath; I always give that explanation to A) show that my writing has changed since then so if you hate the book bear with me cuz I'm only going up! and B) show that I've been doing this for some time so if you love the book strap in because I'm only getting better!) Lady Thief, is finally coming out in print release, so I spent a good deal of time yesterday with that. We're scheduling it for next month (I don't have a real date yet, just the month of July) as soon as they finish up the final cover (!) and I basically spent a lot of time yesterday in a daze of running around singing "At laaaaaaast."

Also, I have to take my mother-in-law to make sure she doesn't have cancer and stuff, so that's the opposite of happy and fun.

It's been an interesting ride recently...

...

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Doctor Who or any of the related rights.

...

"What do you think you're doing?"

Dean tried his best not to feel like a kid with his hand caught in the candy jar. He grinned ruefully over at Rory.

Rory was standing there with a pair of crutches that he'd found in whatever place he'd visited when the TARDIS opened up her doors, along with a bag that looked like it was probably filled with medical stuff, and a look on his face that was somewhere between annoyance and disbelief.

Dean, on the other hand, was standing by the TARDIS console with one hand on the scanner and the other braced against the console where he wasn't likely to accidentally press any buttons, holding on so that he wouldn't fall over with all his weight on only one foot.

"Dean," Rory said again. Like an exasperated parent.

Dean just grinned again. "The Doc's got a plan," he said, turning the scanner as best he could so Rory could see it. "While you were down there, we jumped the TARDIS over to the engine rooms."

"Sounds dangerous," Rory said. He sounded a bit like River, but without the glamorous excitement.

Dean grinned. "But, see, I'm trying to convince this gorgeous thing to let us go somewhere else."

Rory raised an eyebrow. "I think you're overreaching. It's one thing to get the TARDIS to like you and another thing entirely to fly it."

Dean laughed and finally understood why Rose had thought he was so amazing when he showed up to rescue her and Jack. Seems like the TARDIS was particularly picky about who she would listen to.

He patted the console lovingly. "That's because most people don't give her the respect she deserves, isn't that right?" He rubbed the side of the scanner, and the TARDIS positively purred in response.

Dean definitely enjoyed the look of shock on Rory's face.

"Yeah, well, whatever it is you're wanting to do, it'll have to wait," Rory said, at last recovering his wits and going back to that nursing voice that he adopted probably without realizing it.

"Not sure it can," Dean said.

Rory raised both eyebrows this time.

Dean waved his hand vaguely and then decided that was probably a bad idea when he very nearly fell over. He sighed, gripping the TARDIS harder to keep himself upright and whispering his apologies to her. "While I was captured, they held me in this . . . place." He shuddered even just thinking about what he'd seen. And smelled. And understood.

Rory waited. The guy was patient; Dean had to give him that.

"They didn't actually use any of the machines, but from the way they were talking, and from what Deeva's told me, and from what I saw . . . ." Dean took a deep breath. "The Doc's planning on disabling their ship so that it'll drift forever in the trash lanes and send out a 'keep away' signal, but I'm a little more ambitious than that."

Rory surprised Dean by grinning. "I'm listening," he said.

…..

River and the Doctor were a flurry of movement together, but Amy and Sam were completely at ease with their backs to each other and their eyes on the doors.

"You're not a bad shot," Sam said.

Amy grinned. "I'm a lucky shot," she amended. "I'm better with more futuristic stuff."

Sam laughed. He turned slightly so that they could sort of see the Doctor and River, who were still running around connecting wires and pushing buttons (Sam wondered if Dean would have been in on this plan if he could walk). "You know, it'd be easier if we just got rid of the Cybermen."

"The Doctor said an explosion in trash lanes that carry old warships is probably not a good idea," Amy said with a tone of voice that suggested she'd already suggested that idea and had received that exact answer, word for word, and she was simply repeating it.

"Makes sense," Sam said. "But if he just disables them, what's to stop them from attracting more people to their trap?"

"Removing the bait, for one thing," said Deeva.

Sam blinked in surprise. So Deeva had finally emerged from underneath the engine. He quickly recovered and grinned at her. "Besides the obvious, I mean. You're not gonna keep out looters or explorers."

Deeva grinned at Amy. "I like him," she said.

Amy just laughed.

But Sam had gone back to watching for the Cybermen, and to nobody's surprise, the door had a couple fist-sized dents in it. The Doctor had done something to the door controls so that only he could open them, but they'd been hearing explosions and thumping sounds for some time that could only mean the Cybermen were getting closer.

He glanced over at Amy, who nodded and gripped the blaster River had given her tighter.

She was good backup, all things considered, and Sam had seen her in action. River would be better backup, but the Doctor needed her futuristic expertise since Deeva was doing whatever it was that he'd asked her to do all on her own.

"That ought to keep them from going anywhere further than their dining room," the Doctor announced at last, holding two sparking cables probably dangerously close together.

"Great. So we can get out of here?" Sam asked.

"Yes. Absolutely," the Doctor said. Except it definitely sounded like a "no."

…

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Rory asked.

"Hey, I trusted you to patch me up; you trust me to mess up some Cyber tech," Dean said.

The two of them stood now in the middle of a huge room. There were pods everywhere—cleaner versions of the kind of thing Dean had seen in the Zygon ship, but with more technology and several empty Cyber helmets. It wasn't hard to figure out what this place was.

Conversion chamber.

At least, that seemed like the word Dean should put to it.

Dean leaned against Rory for support (even with the crutches, this was still tricky) until he got to the nearest table-like surface he could find to set out his supplies.

Rory was an excellent nurse, which made him also an excellent engineering assistant; once he'd caught on to what Dean was making, he could almost give Dean exactly what he needed before Dean asked for it.

The medical kit was great, but what was even better? The chemicals inside it.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Rory asked again.

Dean sighed. He didn't blame the guy. It wasn't like Dean was known for his intellect (that was more Sammy's area), and the stuff Dean was working with could very well blow up in both their faces.

Dean knew all that, but he was distracted trying to concentrate, so instead, he said, "I've been setting monsters on fire since before you met the Doctor . . . relatively speaking." He waved his hand at that last bit; he wasn't sure of Rory's timeline, but he was pretty sure Rory wasn't a preteen when he started with the Doctor weirdness.

Rory just shook his head. "I'm still just trying to get over the fact that you flew the TARDIS."

Dean shrugged. "I did it when I was eighteen, and with a beautiful machine like that—one that breathes—it's hard to forget something like that."

"Shouldn't we bring the TARDIS back to the others?"

Dean nodded. "So you should maybe stop asking questions and start handing me things faster."