So my computer cord broke yesterday and my laptop is drained, thus the late chapter. I've had to resort to using my husbands computer (blah). And on top of that fanfic has been down and I have been unable to update for over a day. Found a nifty link to get around the problem. I still have some tweaking to do with the end of this one so it will be edited later on, but for now I thought I'd put it up. Sorry for the delay.

Chapter

Trying not to think of the dreadful state of her aching feet, Rose stared blearily at several security footage feeds splayed on on Jake's monitor. With things rapidly getting more serious, she'd been adamant on working in a public space, wanting at least some small measure of security. Seeing the Doctor's despair, it had been so easy to make promises that she could figure this out, but after only two days downright exhaustion was taking it's taxing toll. And didn't help in the least that her task was of the most monotonous order- the dull black and white security screens playing endlessly with nothing to report. Well, no news was good news, she supposed. And so she had stood on her feet for hours and hours on end, running over scenario after scenario in her head as Jake poured over every untested avenue at her side. That is, when he wasn't off pouring her yet another cup of coffee.

For the thousandth time her eyes stalled on screen eight. Just barely visible on the left of the screen were a pair of tiny converse trainers sticking out from under a ship. Fear constricted her any time she thought of that dreadful anklet. Frankly, she was shocked Hartman had even been permitted to use such draconian measures on an agent in her employ at all- alien or no. Pete had been hard at work trying to free those incarcerated, and had already started filing a complaint calling for action against Hartman. Unfortunately, to get it to the top it would first have to go through several bureaucrats, a timely process. And it didn't undo what had already been done. That was why she had to be vigilant now. One slip and he could be confronted by whatever this was and taken from her forever. She would never forgive herself for letting that happen. Readjusting her eyes, she forced herself to look over the rest of the screens: her office, his office, the inventory room, his lab, his cell, the NOVAE project room, and the hallway outside Hartman's office, anywhere there had been a data breach or were related in any way. But with nothing but the usual humdrum of daily Torchwood goings-on happening, she was left with little to do but stand, dead on her feet. Finally, her droopy eyes lowered to blink, and then closed.

Jake's voice came from behind, startling her as she rocked on her heels in alarm. "Oh come on, boss. Are you sure you want another cup?" he asked warily, handing her a sixth cup of coffee as she yawned. "If you ask me it's time for a break."

Without taking her eyes from screen, she took a swig, her hand slightly trembling from either exhaustion or low blood sugar; regardless, with as much sugar as she liked in her cup, coffee ought to help. Three sugars, splash of milk. It was one of the Doctor's endearing habits she'd picked up since they'd been seeing so much of each other. Used to take it straight. Far too sweet, she'd teased him. But like him, it had grown on her. "I'm fine," she dismissed stubbornly, her insides pinching at the memory.

"Need I remind you that you have a rather important function to attend to tomorrow?" he chided with an air of disapproval. "You need your rest to look the part if you want to gain an audience with the president."

She scoffed. It should have been quite obvious to him that looking good was the last thing on her mind, what with her hair ragged and unkempt, and face makeup-free. Or maybe that was his whole point. It was just his 'nice way' of say, You look like hell, Rose.

"Look, I know you're worried about him, but you need to take a break," he protested, putting a hand on her shoulder, her eyes refusing to leave the screen. "You can't do it alone. You're gonna crack under the strain and then we'll be no closer to solving this. I can take the next shift."

She groaned. He was right. She couldn't go without sleep forever- try as she may.

"You and I, we've been at this a while. When have I ever let you down?" he asked earnestly.

She threw him a sideways glare, chewing on her lip in deliberation. Jake was always right. In fact, it had been one of his most annoying qualities. She had always been the first one in the door, stun guns blazing, off to the save the world; act first, think later. For the past few years she had been dangerously reckless. She wasn't always that way, even when she was with the Doctor. She used to think her way through complex situations, relying on her wit rather than her brawn. After losing him however, that all changed. Jake had saved her life on more than one occasion by pulling her back and reminding her of the end goal: reuniting with her Time Lord. Relenting, she nodded and stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. "Fine, I'll back at three in the morning."

"Seven," he ordered. "Get some rest, Rose."

"Thanks," she muttered appreciatively before retreating toward the corridor. "Call me if you see so much as a blip."

For a brief moment, she contemplated going to see him, but soon found even the mere task of walking to be draining. Instead, she shuffled toward her office. With a wave of her badge and a click, she collapsed in her chair, head propped against the wall. Sleep claimed her instantly.

The Doctor lay on the cool pavement under the broad underbelly of the Chula warship, struggling to bring his bloodshot eyes in focus, torch tucked between his teeth. Without his beloved sonic, attempting to fix the gaping hole from a blast that had brought the ship down a decade earlier was immeasurably more difficult. At least he had made some progress. He had patched up the broken wing from the impact damage after all, but restoring the hull's integrity would be vital before trying to take the ship back into space. And of course he would need to fix the field generator to keep the oxygen from leaking out. Grumpily, he yanked at a bent metal support beam trying to hammer it out. Such primitive methods. Reaching around the other side, his fingers splayed searching for anything in the way. Without warning, a feeling he hadn't experience in almost three months once again crawled along his arm, burning his wrist. Turning on the torch with his left hand, he examined it.

Curious. The implant site was red and inflamed. Seemed they had implanted the device almost directly on the dividing line where he went from Time Lord to human. The implant was being rejected by the extra subdural and subcutaneous layers of his superior Time Lord skin. Silently, he chortled as he tugged on the edge of the tiny sliver poking out of his wrist. It gave way without a fight, pinched between his long fingers. Oh that's brilliant, he said to himself, beaming. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. One step closer to freedom.

He'd have to keep the chip on him of course, to keep anyone from being suspicious. But just how was he supposed to carry such a tiny thing? He cast a weary eye about him, spying the boots of his guard just to his left. His mouth twisted in thought. Plunging his other hand into the abyss of his brown pinstripe jacket pocket, he extricated a roll of tape, so very grateful that he had installed those bigger-on-the-inside pockets. Ever so carefully, he placed the chip on a sticky clear strip, then wrapped several more layers of tape around it for more substance. Peering once more at the bustling hangar, he carefully placed the wad of tape into his pocket before affording another look at his hand. Surprisingly, the redness had already begun to fade. God he loved that hand! A happy hum sounded at the back of his throat as he flexed his fingers in delight.

"Doctor?" a familiar low voice rang out.

Startled by the sudden sound, he rolled to the side out from under the ship and jumped to his feet. Pete stood before him, looking as sharp as ever save for the tired lines wearing deep into his face.

"Pete," he said in surprise. Remembering his place, he stumbled on his words. "U-um I mean, Director Tyler." He gave a polite nod as he brushed the dust from the back of his hair.

Pete frowned at him. He shook his head slightly, biting his lip. "There's no excuse for what's been done to you. I'm appalled by what's happened. If there's anything I can do to make your stay here more comfortable, please let me know."

He nodded, folding his arms, a cheeky grin spreading on his face. "Well now that you mention it, there's quite a bit. For one, I'd like to upgrade my suite. And I'd like my screwdriver. And... a man can't survive without his jelly babies. "

Pete snorted. "I'll see what I can do about the first and last request. As to the second..." He reached into his suit pocket. "Here." He handed over his sonic screwdriver. "This might make you more comfortable. You wouldn't believe what strings I had to pull to get this back to you. But," he said looking at the grand ship beside him placing a hand on it, "it's the fastest way to get this thing back in the air, and your life may depend on that."

The Doctor's face lit up as he gave his trusty screwdriver a smooch before pocketing it. "You are a life saver, you are. I'm surprised Hartman allowed it."

"Oh she didn't want to but last time I checked I'm still the Director."

"That you are," he said admirably with a smirk. "That you are. Speaking of which, there's one more thing you can do to make my stay more comfortable."

"Yeah?" he asked, his balding head tilting upwards slightly.

"Fire Hartman, will you?" he requested in all seriousness.

He snickered. "Oh trust me, I'm working on it."

"Good," he stated, his voice now devoid of all jest. "A woman like that had no business being in a position of power anywhere, much less an institute like Torchwood where the fate of the world could be at stake."

Pete cast a weary look over his shoulder. "Speaking of which," he began, his voice also growing more quiet and earnest, "I've arranged to meet with President Jones tomorrow night at a charity function. I'm going as a guest under Viatex's name but I've asked Rose and Jake to come. We'll see what we can do about freeing you and the others. You'll need to be on alert while we're gone."

He nodded. "Thanks, but I'll be fine. I've got my sonic, after all," he said petting his pocket with a faux smile that didn't reach his tired eyes. Having his teleport disruptor was a vast improvement to his chances. Based on what he'd seen, Torchwood and it's anit-transport beam were as trustworthy as any of it's other current security measures which had been skirted at every turn.

Pete turned as if to speak, but then his eyes fell, his mouth pressing together in a frown. With a curt nod (the Pete Tyler equivalent to an hour of gut-pouring sympathies), he turned and departed. With a resigned sigh, the Doctor crouched down, rolling and scooting himself back into place. But after only an hour, he was simply too tired, muttering under his breath as he tried to sort through a handful of wires that needed to be reconnected. His mental capacity was greatly reduced in his current state. He'd need at least a few hours of sleep if he was going to continue with any amount of accuracy and efficiency. Barmy human sleeping cycles. Finally admitting defeat, he pulled himself onto his feet and made his way towards the detention area only to be redirected toward his new accommodations in the on-site barracks. Wow, Pete moved fast. No complaints from him.

It was better than what he did have, he'd give them that. He had a proper bed and beside table now, complete with a little reading lamp and a flat screen TV on the opposite wall, and an overstuffed chair in the corner. Overall the room was much more inviting and comfortable. Course, that could also be due to the lack of the steel bolted door and force field lock of his previous accommodations. He had no doubt that if he had not been in such personal good standing with the Director, none of this would have happened. If Hartman's had her way, he'd be stuck in that abysmal cell indefinitely.

He was happy to see that they had even given him back his other suit, as it lie draped across the bed. He was secretly grateful for the trans-dimensional pockets. Whoever did a pat down of his stuff didn't realize he had several things stored inside them, including his mobile.

Yawing, he dressed in his robe, grabbed his things and made his way to the men's locker room just across the hall. The guard posted outside his door didn't even budge, obviously not considering a trip to the loo to be worth walking the extra five feet. Well that was an improvement at least.

He pushed aside the door to the facilities as he entered. For a locker room, it was rather quiet and uninteresting with nothing to note except an excessive amount of blue tile. Languidly, he drug his feet towards the mirror and plugged in his razor. A man stood beside him, idly washing his hands as the Doctor began the task of shaving the stubble upon his jaw. He gave the middle aged Asian man a cordial glance in the mirror and halted. He knew that look- that odd twinge, as if seeing far off. Oh dear.

Dropping his razor into the empty sink beneath him with a clank, he took a step back. "Your hypnotized," he said alarmed. "Aren't you?!"

The man didn't answer, the harsh lighting catching the silver peppering his dark hair as he tilted his dead in a most disturbing manner. From his pocket, the man drew a nondescript probe of some type- white and benign. Likely for medical use. Whatever it was however, he hadn't seen anything before. More parallel universe variation. This time though, he wasn't keen to investigate.

Instinctively, he patted his hips but found nothing but his robe. Drat. No sonic or mobile. Catch me doing that again, he scolded himself. Cautiously he raised his hands, slowly backing up as the man approached. "Oh you're clever, aren't you. Waiting for me in here? The one place with no surveillance." He could try to overpower him and snap him out of hypnosis, but he had the upper hand with whatever it was he was holding. He would have to run past him. Whatever he did, he couldn't let the man take him anywhere. He backed into the wall, prepared to dash to the side to get around him.

Suddenly a woman appeared adorned in black tactical wear, opening the stall in the corner.

"Oh now that's not fair!" the Doctor protested. "You're not even supposed to be in here!" he pointed at her, gesturing towards her womanliness. His eyes grew as they approached him. "And here's the part where I run."

"We are here to help," the man suddenly spoke.

The Doctor blinked in astonishment. "What?!"

"We are here to help," he said once more pointing towards his ankle with the probe in his hand.

Whatever this bloke planned on doing, he wasn't keen to let him try. "Oh, sorry mate, but I'd rather you not. You go messing with that and it's lights out for me," he said as the man stopped in front of him.

"We will investigate."

"No!" he shouted, waving his hands frantically in front of him. "Whatever you need me for if you touch that device it could give me enough Jathar sleeping liquid to stop my heart, and I rather like my heart thank you," he fibbed. "And don't even think about trying to beam me out of here. As soon as I go out of range it's game over." It was obvious he was of great worth to whatever was trying to get at him. Perhaps in the interest of preserving him, they would let him be.

The man knelt as the woman pushed him against the mirrored wall. "Don't!" he yelled twirling out of her grasp and stumbling to the white tiled floor. The woman in black threw herself upon the ground to steady him as the man approached with another instrument- a thirtieth century sedative pen.

Desperate, he quickly reached up and thrust his hands upon the temples of the woman on top of him. She gasped and fell to the ground confused. He felt a sudden sting upon his thigh. A string of Gallifreyan curse words sounded in the air as tingling began coursing over his body. Yep, this was much stronger than the average anesthetic. At least it was only meant to sedate and not knock him out. He slumped upon the ground as the man approached with the probe. Blimey he was losing his touch. Too much human in him.

"Please, please, don't..." he implored, fast losing his strength. But it was of no use. He lowered his heavy head to the cold floor, bracing for the inevitable. Of all the humiliating ways to go, ending up as sleeping beauty had to be near the top of his list. Unable to stop the man, his chest hammered with dread as the device hummed quietly.

"Scans indicate .005 ounces of Jathar sleeping liquid," he spoke lifelessly. "Not enough to be lethal."

He struggled to let the information sink into his foggy brain. "Point O O five... but that means, that means she was bluffing! She was bluffing!" he laughed, thrilled. "That's only enough to..." suddenly the immobilizer popped in response to the scan and his body gave way.

He awoke with a start to find himself in his new room. Jake sat in the chair in the corner, his leg propped up on his knee, his foot tapping impatiently.

"What the hell happened?!" the Doctor asked as he shot up in bed, looking himself over. It appeared he was all still here, his robe was on him and his blanket had been pulled on top of him.

"You were accosted by two compromised agents."

"Yes, I got that bit," he remarked a bit irked. Donna's feisty nature was in him yet.

"I went to go check on you and found a dazed woman in hallway, talking about some man on the floor in the loo. I looked and there you were, lying on the floor with a bloke hovering over you. Me and the guard in hall were able to grab him. He's been hypnotized. We've got him in the detention center but he's coming to. The woman was dazed but she's fine. She's being watched."

"How long have I been out?"

"About eighteen hours."

Whoa. That was some potent stuff. Thank heavens that vile woman was bluffing. "Where's Rose?" he inquired expectantly.

"She's been by your side for hours, but ten minutes ago she left to erase the footage of what happened."

"What? Why?"

"It was her idea," he said lowering his voice and leaning forward. "If we keep quiet about what happened no one needs to know that your immobilizer has been compromised. They'll still think it's working. Then if you ever need to leave, you can," Jake said enthusiastically resting his elbows on his knees.

The Doctor yanked the covers off of him and pulled his foot up to examine the anklet. He grabbed his jacket from the floor and found his sonic screwdriver. It whirled as he scanned the device. "You're right. It used up all the sleeping fluid." He let out a huff of air. Imagine that. He was a free man now. He couldn't hide his joy as his face broke out in a wide smirk.

"You'll have to keep it on and pretend it's still working. I wouldn't put it past Hartman to do this again for real next time if she finds out," Jake said, troubled. "And you've still got your chip."

But the Doctor was hardly listening. "Hm? Oh yeah.. right." He didn't bother correcting him, head once again full of limitless possibilities with a certain lovely young lady.

"Rose and I are going to a charity even to speak with President Jones in a couple of hours. She's got to hear the other side of the story."

Suddenly, the man had his full attention as the Doctor shot Jake a sideways glare. Didn't Pete say he was going too? Or had plans changed?

"Hey now, what's that look for?" Jake said with a silent chortle. He sat up. "Rose said you two weren't even going out. She's free game."

In an instant, the Doctor's eyes narrowed. "Sorry?!" Oh he didn't like the sound of that. Just what was Jake insinuating?

"She's a free woman, isn't she?" Jake leaned forward. "Oh I get it, you think she's into you? Did you think you two were together? Because that's not how she tells it. I see how it is. She doesn't want to be with you, but you want to be with her, is that it?"

His dark eyes flashed warningly at his words.

Jake's friendly demeanor vanished. "She deserves better than you," he whispered quietly.

Alarmed at the sudden turn of the conversation, the Doctor sat upright on the edge of the bed, slack-jawed and uncharacteristically silent.

"You should have seen her the first time, Doctor," Jake swallowed. "She was broken, and I had to pick up the pieces. Six years we've been together. Six years. All that time she spent looking for him, denying herself any happiness, and when she finally did what he refused to do to get back, the dolt left her all over again. He broke her heart twice. And now here you are, some stranger. Some copy. Did it never occur to you that maybe she hasn't made a move because you remind her too much of the man who broke her heart?"

Both his brows and his stomach twisted in equal measure. Could this be true?

Jake stood with a presumptuous smirk. "You'd better stay put, Doc. You are chipped after all. As for me, I've got a hot date," he smiled smugly, coolly flicking a piece of fuzz from his black sleeve.

Chest hammering, he watched as Jake gave him a mock salute and strode out into the hall with a spring in his step. Jumping lithely to his feet, the Doctor rushed forward, but the door closed in his face. Oh that, smug little twat! Waiting until his competition was out of commission... He didn't consider himself a physically violent man, but in that moment he wanted nothing more but to open that door and knock Jake to the ground.

Because his words stung. And because... they were true.

He ran his hand through his ruffled hair and down the sides of his scruffy thin face. Often he wondered if Jake had feelings for Rose- this seemed to confirm that. His stomach squirmed uncomfortably once more. But this didn't make sense. Rose had been spending so much time with him. Did she honestly still consider him just a friend? Really and truly?

But then the past few days... she held his hand... the hugs, the kiss on the forehead, she was going to say something in the hallway... She had told him there would be no more goodbyes!

Suddenly he found himself questioning every small interaction with her, analyzing every look and second guessing himself as he paced the same ten feet back and forth repeatedly, his bare feet scuffing along the grey carpet. He couldn't just go after him. If they caught him off base without a chip and an immobilizer he'd back at square one, or worse. His pacing quickened as he rubbed at the sides of his nose with his hands. But then he couldn't stand the thought of losing Rose. Not like this. After finally working up the nerve to tell her how he felt in that god-forsaken cell, he was not going to lose her now. All he needed was a chance. Just one!

He weighed his options. It'd be an enormous risk going after her, but maybe it was an even bigger risk not to. He'd have to throw off his guard, and he would need transportation...

"By Rassalion, what am I doing?" he shook his head in exasperation, yanking at his hair. With a shaky breath, he reached into his jacket pocket on the floor once more and snatched his mobile to phone someone he never thought he would call.

"Jackie?! Yes yes it's me. Yeah I know, j-just listen to me! I need your help..."