Rated M.


Chapter Forty-Three

"Holy shit, look at you."

Jack looked up from where he was watching his feet and carefully turned on his heels. There was a small wobble as he reached a 45-degree angle; his arms stretched out in an attempt to steady his balance, a smile spreading across his face when he managed to face Mickey without falling over. Steam from his morning shower rolled out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist looking pleased at Jack's success as he standing on his own two feet and halfway across the room. He stood near a plush armchair in their spacious hotel suite, the floor-to-ceiling windows bathing the room – and Jack – in the golden light of dawn.

"Fifteen steps," Jack said, pride warring with relief in his voice. "That's more than I got to last time. I think I'm actually getting better."

"Hell yeah you are." Mickey shut the bathroom door to keep the steam contained and fought the urge to walk over to him and slide an arm around his waist to support his weight, aware he was being fussy. Instead, he crossed to the kitchen instead and popped a piece of kiwi into his mouth. "How d'you feel?"

The truth was Jack felt sore. Even though he was standing and finally walking under his own steam, his knees and hips ached. Both the surgeon and the Doctor had told him that was to be expected given the extensive nature of his surgery and that the general aches and pains would die down after a fortnight, give or take. Jack was doing his best not to overdo it either, as eager to be back to normal as everyone else was; the discomfort was easy enough to manage through the twice-daily injections of pain medication and thrice-daily application of a cool gel that felt as though ants crawled beneath his skin.

"Good," he said, speaking his half truth, flexing his fingers around his cane and readjusting his grip. "Strange but good. I don't think I'm going to use the chair today, I want to try and walk around for a bit because the backs of my thighs are killing me. I think the muscles are starting to atrophy."

Mickey leaned over the counter and eyed the back of Jack's thighs. He didn't notice any difference in them as they were as muscular and strong as they had always been, and he laughed when Jack angled himself so that he was able to get a better view of his legs and rear end. Not that it was difficult. Jack wore a pair of tiny shorts that clung to every inch of him in a manner that stepped over the line of indecent and went straight into pornographic; not even the cheerful parrots that decorated the shorts made up for the fact they shouldn't be worn in public.

"I think you're fine," Mickey told him.

"I know you do," Jack said with enough heat in his voice to turn Mickey's attention onto the fruit salad in front of him, skin flushing. "And you don't need an excuse to check me out. You're welcome to do it any time."

Mickey snorted and put the fruit back into the mini-fridge, unable to let it be thrown away by housekeeping when they came to tidy up the room. "I'll keep that in mind. You goin' to stay standin', or –?"

"I want to stay up for a little more," he said, breathing in deeply. "I miss being tall. It's awful having everyone look down at me. Makes me feel like a child."

Mickey left him to it, doing his best not to be overbearing. They had had a bitter argument the day after the Doctor had left when Jack put his foot down and refused to be treated like an invalid any longer simply because he was temporarily incapacitated. It was their first real argument with raised voices and hurt feelings and Mickey had stormed off to the beach to calm down. By the time he returned, Jack was silent and watchful, stopping short of apologising for things he didn't need to be sorry for, and they managed to find a compromise that gave Mickey space to worry but also gave Jack his independence again.

Left alone, Jack made his way slowly over to the window and stared out over their view of the sea calm that glittered beneath the sun, people already out and about as they enjoyed their surroundings.

They had been in Jamaica for two weeks, a tired and slightly grubby Doctor disappearing in the TARDIS that groaned and gurgled and protested at being made to fly again. Jack suspected that the Doctor's plan of skipping ahead six weeks to meet up with them wasn't going to work with the TARDIS sounding like that, imagining that a lot of repair work needed to be done and the TARDIS probably needed to spend a full day sitting on the rift in Cardiff soaking up the energy there. He tried not to think about it too much, a little guilty for relaxing in Jamaica when there was work to be done, though it wasn't as if he had the capacity to assist beyond helpful comments that he knew would wear thin after a while.

Their first five days were spent in bed, a necessity for him who needed to recover from his surgery and Mickey wasn't about to leave him alone, so they made the most of room service and the catalogue of films and TV shows on the TV. As soon as Jack was able to move without screaming in pain, they went down to the beach where they spent most of their time. He was significantly paler than he liked being and was eager to get some colour back to his skin; he also enjoyed the sound of the sea lapping against the shore and the general hustle and bustle of beach activities as it was all soothing to him.

"Thought maybe I'd try some swimming today," Jack called out to Mickey. "Or maybe I'll just float, but I do want to get into the water at some point. I remember it working well for Zoe after Mondas."

A cupboard door slid shut and Jack wondered if an argument was coming his way.

"All right," Mickey called back. "Reckon we'll have to use the pool for that though. Don't want you bein' dragged out to sea an' all. The pool does have a bar in it if I remember right, so that's an incentive to get you swimmin'."

Jack huffed. "You're not going to argue with me?"

"D'you want me to?"

"No."

"Then no, I'm not," Mickey said, appearing in the doorway holding two shirts in his hands: white and blue. "Like you said, it helped Zoe get some strength back after everythin' an' she mainly floated. Besides, both the Doc an' your surgeon said you could start doin' gentle exercise at two weeks."

"Wear the white one," Jack told him. "And I know they said that but you're normally the first in line to stop me doing too much. You stopped me drinking a week ago."

"I stopped you drinkin' hypervodka, which shouldn't be drunk even if you're not on meds." Mickey rolled his eyes and pulled on the white shirt. "I didn't stop you drinkin' that cocktail of yours. The weird pink one that left glitter on your tongue."

"That was delicious," he replied. "All right, swimming it is then. Do you want some more breakfast?"

"No, I'm good." Mickey slipped his feet into his sandals. "I think I've eaten more fruit in the last two weeks than I have in my entire life. I can smell colours now."

Jack laughed. "Watch out. Before you know it, I'm going to turn you vegan."

"You're not even vegan."

Mickey collected their belongings and double backed for Jack's pain medication just in case they needed it, hesitating over the wheelchair before deciding to trust that Jack knew his own body and wouldn't push himself just because. Slinging the bags over his torso, he offered his arm to Jack who used Mickey and his cane to balance as they walked slowly from the room.

The pool was busy, something that was hardly unexpected. Children scampered along the edges and there was a group of the elderly doing water aerobics in the shallow end while a group of teenagers performed tricks in the deeper. Normally Jack didn't mind throwing himself into the pool to make friends but he wasn't in the mood for anything exuberant that day; fortunately, the Doctor had got them a suit with VIP benefits, which meant that there was a pool specially for those who had the ability to pay through the nose for it.

It was quiet and and childless, and they claimed two sun chairs beneath a parasol. Jack let Mickey slather instant sunscreen onto his body – neither of them wanting to do as the Doctor had done and get sunstroke – and he leaned back into Mickey's hands, enjoying the way his touch moved over him, thumbs occasionally pressing into muscles that were knotted from sleeping funny.

The no sex rule the surgeon had insisted on – and the Doctor doubled down on by writing down a list of things they were allowed to do which consisted of kissing – was playing havoc on him. He occasionally tried to initiate something light but Mickey, unfortunately, viewed anything sex related as off the table until they reached the milestones the surgeon had given them for recovery.

"Will you stop that?" Mickey hissed in his ear.

Jack turned and caught his mouth, shifting a little to conceal his arousal. "I can't help how my body reacts when you're touching me."

"We're in public," he reminded him.

"Makes it more exciting, doesn't it?"

Mickey narrowed his eyes. "Get in the water an' cool off."

The pool was the perfect temperature, regulated as it was by heating and cooling ducks that ran along the side, and Jack breathed a sigh of relief as the water took the pressure off his knees and cooled his arousal.

Floating on the surface, arms spread out, he was glad they had decided to spend time away from the TARDIS. He missed the Doctor and the girls and the ship herself but the peace and quiet was desperately needed after everything. Yatta, to whom he had spoken on the phone since he was unable to get there in person for his session, was highly encouraging of his time away from the TARDIS and urged him to make the most of his recovery time. Life was so busy onboard that even when they were just bumping around inside her something was always happening, and Jack appreciated his time to decompress without worry of a planet that needed saving.

Breathing out, eyes closed against the warm sun that fell over the front of his body, he must have fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes, Mickey's hands were supporting his back to keep him upright and looked torn between amused and annoyed.

"Oh dear," Jack said, faking a British accent. "Did I drop off?"

"Don't think speakin' like that's goin' to help you now," Mickey said. "Out of the water."

Jack laughed, knowing full well how much Mickey liked it when he twisted accents into his voice, and did as he was told. There was a drink waiting for him at his sun chair – the pink one he had enjoyed the other day – along with the book he was currently reading following a recommendation from Sarah Jane via text. His heart expanded at the thought of Mickey making sure everything was set up for him so that he was able to spend a day without having to think about everything. Next to him, Mickey settled down with his own book, sunglasses sliding onto his face that sent a spike of heat through Jack.

"What do you think the others are doing right now?" Jack asked, tucking the colourful cocktail umbrella behind his ear and stirring the ice. "Aside from missing us that is."

"Honestly?" Mickey considered the question, mind rolling through the various scenarios that their friends were capable of getting into. "Knowin' them, could be anythin'."


Roanoke Island, 1586

"Why d'you even have a boat in here?" Rose asked, grunting as her muscles strained as she dragged the front end of the row boat out of the TARDIS. Zoe sat primly inside it as she whipped open a fan and cooled her face, unhelpfully supervising. "What could you possibly do with a boat?"

"Go fishing," the Doctor replied, pushing from the stern. "Have a nice afternoon spent on a lake. One time, I spent three weeks floating around the oceans of Medina Axias in naught but my birthday suit after a coronation gone wrong, or right depending on how you look at it."

Zoe looked around, interested. "Your birthday suit, you say? My, my, how scandalous."

He winked at her.

Rose rolled her eyes. "We've discussed the flirtin'."

"That wasn't flirting," the Doctor said. "That was recognising Zoe had spoken with the time-honoured custom of a wink. Definitely no flirting."

"I had to put up with you and Mickey snogging in front of me for ages," Zoe complained, revisiting her main point from the night before with a whine in her voice. "You think I wanted to know how much tongue he uses when kissing –"

The Doctor pulled a face. "Gross."

"No, I didn't but I do because you used to use our bedroom for your shenanigans and –"

"Oh my god, you're thirty, please just say sex," Rose pleaded.

"You would think that you could put up with some mild flirtation every now and then," Zoe finished, fixing her eyes pointedly on Rose who pulled a face at her. The Doctor gave the boat another push, pleased that their bickering didn't have the bite it did not too long ago. "Now, Doctor, my enthusiastic lover –"

"I swear to God, Zo," Rose warned.

"What were you saying about why you have a boat in the TARDIS?"

"Only that you never know when you're going to need one," he said, happy to pull them off the topic that veered too close to his and Zoe's sex life for comfort. "You'd be surprised how often a boat comes in handy."

"I'm sure I wouldn't," Rose said, giving the boat a firm yank and nearly fell over as it moved further out of the TARDIS, soft sand washing over her bare feet. "An' what else d'you have in there?"

"All sorts," he said. "I've got a couple of motorbikes, a hoverboard, a penny farthing, some roller skates, a car –"

"Yeah, I remember Bessie," Rose said, something twinging along her shoulders and sending a sharp, brief surge of pain through her muscles. "It was very yellow."

"A cheerful colour, isn't it?" She jumped out of the way as the boat finally jerked out of the doorway and slid against the sand, travelling down the length of the beach and knocking the hat from Zoe's head and her out of her seat. The Doctor placed his hands on his hips, unconcerned as the boat came to a slow stop. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it? Knew it wouldn't take long."

Rose considered forty minutes a long time; though, she supposed, for a Time Lord it was probably nothing.

"That was bracing," Zoe said, reappearing as she pulled herself back into her seat and caught the rolling bottles of ginger beer that had burst free of their picnic basket before they spilled everywhere. "And you both handled that marvellously. Very manly on your part, Doctor."

The Doctor preened under the compliment. "That's me: A manly man."

"I wouldn't go that far," Rose grumbled, stretching her arms out and turning her face up to the sky where there wasn't a cloud to be seen. "It's a lovely day. When exactly are we?"

"May 30th 1586," the Doctor told her, rolling the hems of his trousers up above his pale ankles in deference to their surroundings. He loosened his tie and followed Rose's gaze to the sky, enjoying the bright blue. "A Friday if you want to be specific."

"It really is pretty here," she said. "It's like we're the only people in the world."

"This is the time before your lot colonised the Americas," he said. "Well, just about. There's been a couple of missions by this point but nothing's taken root yet. This place was supposed to be the first colony as ordered by good Queen Bess but Raleigh wasn't able to make it work."

Zoe put her large floppy hat back on. "Walter Raleigh?"

"No, Winston Raleigh," the Doctor said, rolling his eyes. "Of course Walter Raleigh."

The ocean glittered like a sea of diamonds set against the blue; a fresh and lovely smell coasting on a faint breeze across the surface, wrapping around them, and it was a perfect day for fishing.

All told, it had been Zoe's idea.

After the TARDIS had recovered enough strength to make the journey to Cardiff – day eight of their stay in Norway – and a visit home to Jackie on the train that had only gone smoothly because the Doctor stayed behind to fix the TARDIS up and Zoe and Jackie avoided any mention of him beyond the basics, they took the TARDIS for a test run to the moon and back. As they skimmed over the rings of Saturn like a rock skipping across water, they decided to idle a bit before picking up Jack and Mickey, none of them feeling quite right about skipping too much time without them. As they were brainstorming ideas of where to go and what to do, Zoe mentioned off-handedly never having tried fishing and they were soon digging out the row boat that the Doctor had picked up on a wet weekend in Cornwall with Victoria and Jamie.

"You're not going to get sea sick, are you?" The Doctor asked Zoe as he helped Rose into the boat.

"On a flat and calm ocean?" Zoe replied. "Unlikely."

"Maybe I should jab you with an anti-nausea injection," he said. "Just in case."

"I'm not going to be sick."

"You got sea sick on a puddle, once," he reminded her.

"That was not a puddle!"

"Yes, it was."

"It was not," Zoe argued. "And the only reason I was sick was because I got turned upside down very quickly after a big breakfast." Scepticism swept his face. "Get in the boat." He hesitated. Her eyes narrowed. "Now."

Rose snorted when the Doctor hurried to obey her, tapping the small button on the side of the boat that pushed them towards the water as the Doctor was incapable of owning anything without tinkering with it and improving it.

The boat rocked as they entered the water, the Doctor eyeing Zoe warily, expecting her breakfast to make a reappearance, turning quickly away when she turned to look at him. The water was perfectly calm and the oars cut easily through it as the Doctor took them up and rowed away from the shore until he found the perfect spot. Leaning over the side, arms folded beneath her chin, Rose watched the schools of fish dart about the surface and scurry beneath the boat.

"Do we have to catch them?" She dipped the tips of her fingers into the cool water and watched them dart away from her. "They look so peaceful."

"We do if we want to eat tonight," Zoe said, untangling the old fishing rods the Doctor had been delighted to discover he had. "We're going to have pan-fried fish over an open fire. I've watched videos on how to gut and bone them so I'm ready to go."

Rose and the Doctor exchanged a look of worry. Zoe was a good cook when she was in the kitchen but was, perhaps, a little too reliant on technology to make them comfortable eating anything she cooked over an open fire, particularly when she was deboning a fish for the first time. They looked away before Zoe caught them exchanging concern and took the a fishing rod each when she handed it to them, holding out a box of live bait.

"Why are they alive?" Rose asked, leaning back from the Tupperware box of wriggling worms, small clumps of dirt clinging to their pink flesh.

"Dead bait's no good," Zoe said. "Don't be squeamish."

"Like this," the Doctor said, demonstrating how to hook the worm swiftly and painlessly onto the end of the fishing wire. Rose shook her head, nose wrinkled. "I'll do it for you. Close your eyes and don't throw up."

"Honestly." Zoe arched a disapproving look in her direction. "You used to work at a chippie."

"Dunkin' an' fryin'," she shot back, turning away as the Doctor baited her line for her. "I didn't have to catch the fish."

Never having fished before, Zoe had watched a series of videos on her phone in between preparing their picnic as the Doctor and Rose did the hard work of implementing her idea. Frowning her entire focus into her face, she cast her line with a flick of her wrist. The thin line soared through the air only to jerk to a halt when the metal hook caught on the back of her dress, its sharp point dragging out her skin. She swore and the Doctor coughed to cover his laughter while Rose, significantly less polite, laughed out loud and watched as she tugged uselessly in an attempt to free herself. Taking pity on her, the Doctor untangled the hook from her dress, quickly flicking the mushed bait into the water and hooked another worm onto the end.

He stood up and stepped over Rose's legs to stand behind Zoe, arms moving around to guide her wrist.

"Like this," he said, softly.

The line arced beautifully through the air and landed with a gentle splash in the water, his thumb rubbing at her wrist, the cool warmth of him pleasant against her back. Despite what she argued regarding public flirting, Zoe was slowly getting to used to being open with their affection for each other in front of Rose, not actually wanting to overwhelm her sister when she was being so good at working to keep things normal. Risking it, she leaned her head back on his shoulder and looked up, his hair falling across his forehead as he hadn't bothered styling it that morning.

"Fish a lot on Gallifrey, did you?"

"No." He gently bit the top of her ear to make her squirm. "But you pick up some skills over a thousand years."

"What do we do now?" Rose asked, glancing at them only briefly before looking out over the water where her own line bobbed on the surface. "Wait?"

"Pretty much."

"Oh." She frowned. "For how long?"

"Until we get a nibble," he said, sitting down, wanting to pull Zoe into her lap but he kept his hands to herself as Rose was right next to him. "I could tell you a story while we wait if you want."

"No, thanks," she said, quickly. "Your last one gave me nightmares."

"It was a little gruesome," Zoe agreed. "The fact it was a fairytale on Gallifrey is awful."

"All right, it was a little more bloody than I remembered but it wasn't that bad."

"A bear ate children, Doctor," Rose said. "It was like Goldilocks if the three bears decided to hunt her down an' rip her apart."

"My children used to beg for that story when they were little," the Doctor told them. "Which means that you two are a bunch of scaredy cats and my little baby Time Lords were braver than you are."

"I'm hearin' a lot of this –" Rose brought her fingers up and down against her thumb. "But I want to hear this." She closed her hand. "Silence is golden an' all."

The Doctor looked to Zoe who was reclined with her feet propped up on the seat, her back against the side of the boat, elbows resting on the edge as she enjoyed the sunshine. "I think I'm going to push your sister into the water, are you okay with that?"

"Sure, why not?" She yawned and readjusted her hat. "Don't let her drown though. Mum'd be all upset."

Rose picked up a worm from the Tupperware and flung it at Zoe, grinning when it caught on the brim of her hat and slipped down until the end touched her nose. At the touch, Zoe's eyes snapped open flinched back, shrieking in surprise, and flailed herself over into the water, a loud splash rocking the boat.

"Oops," Rose said.


Holding tightly onto the grip that dangled in front of him, stomach swimming around his knees as his instructor double checked their safety harness, Mickey was certain Zoe was to blame for his current predicament. It didn't matter that she had no idea what he was doing nor that she wasn't even in the same time as him – probably not even in the same galaxy for that matter – it was her once-mentioned anecdote that, for some reason, Jack had remembered that had taken him on a surprisingly short path to standing in the open door of a plan about to jump out. If she had kept her mouth shut and not told them that she had once done a parachute jump, the Doctor digging out photographs as proof, then he was fairly certain Jack wouldn't have thought of it.

As it was, Jack thought it sounded like fun and the fact he couldn't go on a parachute jump because of his knees didn't mean that Mickey shouldn't miss out on all the fun. Half asleep and not really paying attention as he had fallen asleep late the night before, Mickey murmured an agreement and, before he knew it, he was being bundled into an airplane as Jack waved him goodbye.

So, yeah, he blamed Zoe.

With Jack was waiting for him on the ground, and Mickey's inability to say no to him the problem it had been when he was with Rose, there was no way he was able to back out of the parachute jump without copious amounts of guilt that he would rather avoid. Perhaps there was something psychological about his desperate need to make the people he was dating happy even if it cost him; whatever the reason, he felt that jumping out of a plane was really the stupidest thing he had done in the name of love. At least Rose had never asked him to do that; although, she had once asked him to help her get her stuff back from Jimmy's parents and that had been an awful day. He still had the scar from where Jimmy's dad had pulled a knife on him, Rose thinking quickly by throwing hot tea into his face before they sprinted out of there, leaving her things behind.

All in all, he was sure that he would benefit from learning how to say no once in a while.

Mickey's body wobbled when something shook the plane. He sucked in a sharp deep breath, resisting the urge to fall back inside. It wasn't as though parachuting was any less dangerous than a number of things he had ever done – it wasn't even the most dangerous thing he had done that week after an unfortunate incident involving sharks and a cut foot – but it was a very long way down and the parachute was only made out of cloth.

"You ready?"

He looked back at his instructor and thought of Jack. It hadn't been the best of nights. At some point, Jack had rolled over and trapped his left knee at an awkward angle, waking with a shout of pain that sent Mickey falling out of bed in surprise, fear, and worry. It took a while after that to fall back asleep so when he fizzed with excitement that Mickey was able to go on the parachute even though he wasn't, Mickey hadn't the heart to say no.

The one silver lining was that the Doctor wasn't there to take the piss as he plunged screaming to the ground.

"You'll be fine," Femi, his instructor and somehow a friend of Jack's despite Mickey not knowing how or when they had met, said loudly over the rush of the wind that was deafening. "When we get to the ground you'll be glad you've done this."

"I'm drawing the line at orbital divin' though," Mickey called back, referencing one of the options that had been raised when they arrived at the airfield for orientation. "This is enough for me."

Ze smiled. "If you say so."

Counting down to three in his ear, the heavy Jamaican lilt of hir accent not as comforting as it might otherwise have been, Femi threw them out of the plane with a whoop of delight. Mickey's vision swam and his bowels turned to water as they fell through the air faster than he expected, tumbling through the bright blue sky towards the beautiful expanse of water that surrounded the coastline. They were to land in a field where Jack was waiting for him, probably watching his descent through the binoculars he normally used for bird watching, but, for now, Mickey fell. Laughter pushed up through his chest and streamed from his mouth, adrenaline pounding through him as enjoyment took him by surprise. He spread his arms wide and wished that Jack was there with him.

"Get ready," Femi shouted.

He had only a few seconds to brace before Femi pulled the parachute cord. They were jerked up, his teeth clacking together in the instant before a gentle float took over and the powerful rush of wind stopped.

"Woah," he said.

Ze laughed. "Yeah, I know."

They landed in the field and Jack made his way towards them, limping heavily but using only his cane, and he stood with a wide grin as Femi unbuckled Mickey from hir. He staggered to his feet and fell against Jack.

"Good time?"

"I'm not doin' that without you again," Mickey said against his neck. "But yeah, it was fun."

Jack laughed. "Damn straight it is."


Islamabad, Pakistan, 5792

"This is weird," Rose said. "Right? I'm not the only one who finds this proper weird, right?"

She turned only to find the Doctor gone. Sighing, she raised her eyes to the cloudy sky that threatened rain and tried not to let annoyance roll through her. For someone who complained about people wandering off every time it pleased them, he was equally as bad. Turning on the spot to find him, his height an advantage in such situations, her eyes landed on him holding a small child over a barrel. There was a moment of confusion, unable to understand why the Doctor was attempting to drown a child in broad daylight and why no one was stopping him. He lifted the child up and she relaxed at the sight of an apple caught in the dripping child's mouth.

"Well done," she heard him say as she got closer. "It took me ages to learn to apple bob properly and you got it on your first try. Up top!"

The child jumped and slapped the Doctor's open palm in a high-five that made both of them grin. A thought struck Rose that the Doctor and Zoe might one day have children together and the idea caused her to miss a step, stumbling into an Apalapucian who helped her right herself. She thanked him with a smile that belied the furious pounding of her heart.

The Doctor and Zoe's child.

The thought of such a reality was so stunning that it was difficult to breathe.

"Hello," the Doctor said, appearing before her. "Sorry I ambled off but there's apple bobbing, fancy a go?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Blimey." He leaned in until his nose nearly touched hers. "Are you all right? You've gone really pale."

"Yeah, no, I'm fine."

"Did you know that English linguists have been puzzling over the use of yeah, no for quite some time?" He asked, resting his palm against her forehead to check her temperature. "It's used to express agreement with something that's negative. However, you've confused all that by adding on an I'm fine at the end. Now, I'm hardly one to nitpick language usage but that seems to me to mean that you're not all that okay. What's happened?"

Rose pushed his hand away. "I'm fine, it's nothing. Just thought of something that spooked me."

Would the child look more like the Doctor before her now, or his previous body, or another version she hadn't even seen yet?

Would it have anything of Zoe in it?

Would it even be human?

The Doctor frowned, concerned. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really," she said, gesturing around them to change the subject. "This is weird."

"What's weird about it?" He asked, sticking his hand in the barrel of water and removing an apple that he offered to her. When she shook her head, he bit into it. "It's perfectly normal."

"It's a time travel conference," Rose told him, pointing. "Look. There are three of the same people right there."

"Maybe they're triplets."

"Doctor."

"Rose," he mocked, shifting out of the way when she went to slap his shoulder. "This isn't weird, it's unique. The only one of its kind anywhere in the universe. Today, right now, is absolutely and completely like nothing else in the whole wide universe. It's not weird, it's brilliant."

Rose rolled her eyes and caught sight of a table that was selling old VHS tapes of the Adventures of Mary-Kate and Ashley as authentic 21st century relics. "Aren't there meant to be rules against this sort of thing? Reapers aren't goin' to make an appearance, are they?"

"Nah." The Doctor wiped the juice from his chin. "It's not a fixed point but it is well worn. Sort of like your favourite armchair that shapes itself to you because you use it so often, that's what time's like now. Although, between you and me, it wasn't the best idea you lot've ever had as time is weaker here, more prone to paradoxes."

"Then why aren't we seein' –" she spread her arms wide and squawked in a passing imitation of the Reapers. "You told me that savin' Dad meant that I'd weakened time. If time's so weak here, why isn't it bein' eaten?"

"First of all, time wasn't being eaten, honestly." She grinned at his exasperation. "It was being cleansed, purified, if you will. And secondly, a very clever person helped to shore up time around here so that it doesn't do something stupid and rip."

Rose stared at him. "That very clever person was you, wasn't it?"

"Maybe."

Another thought, one less destabilising to her mental health, struck her. "Is there another you knockin' about around here?"

Suddenly aware of the danger he had placed himself in, the Doctor panicked. "Maybe."

"Where's Zoe?" Rose twisted on her heels, searching for her sister through the crowd. "She knows what your other faces look like, doesn't she? ZO–!"

The Doctor clamped a hand over her mouth and dragged her back against his chest. Her tongue pressed against his palm in an attempt to free herself and they participated in a small, undignified scuffle that ended with her trying to knock him on the head with his half-eaten apple when he breathed in sharply. Instantly pulling back, afraid that she might have accidentally hurt him, he was as pale as he had accused her of being and was staring past her.

Following his eyeline, she spotted Zoe in the crowd walking arm in arm with a short man who boasted a head of dark hair underneath a wide brimmed hat and an umbrella in the shape of a question mark in his hand.

"Oh no," the Doctor breathed. "No, no, no, no, no. How did she even –?"

Rose stared, delight blooming through her chest; Jack and Mickey were going to hate missing this. "Is that –?"

"Look who I've found," Zoe called out, brimming with delight. "He was at a food stand getting this awful banana concoction and I couldn't resist going to say hi. Isn't this amazing?"

"Hello," the younger Doctor said, cheerfully. "I feel I've rather been bullied into this. I've attempted explaining the complications of crossing personal time streams to this absolutely charming young woman but she thoroughly ignored me."

"Oh, it won't be a problem for five minutes, honestly," Zoe said, bumping her hip against his. "And I didn't hear you complaining about bullying when you were checking out my arse."

Both Doctors turned red.

"Zoe," her Doctor hissed, scandalised.

"Oh my," the younger one said, taken aback. "You're rather bold, aren't you?"

Rose melted, hand pressed over her heart. "That's so sweet. Look how innocent he is! If I didn't know about your kids I'd swear blind you've never had sex. Then again, have you even shagged a human yet?"

"Rose!"

"I don't know when this is in your timeline," she defended herself, laughing. "How'm I supposed to know if you've met Cleo?"

The younger Doctor appeared to move back and forth between utter delight at the future that awaited him and complete scandalisation over how freely they spoke to him.

"Who's Cleo?"

"Cleopatra," Zoe said. "Of Egypt. Last true pharaoh and all that jazz."

"Sweet Rassilon," he breathed, eyes wide. "Don't tell me Cleopatra and I have –" Zoe and Rose leaned in expectantly. "That?"

"Can't even say sex." Rose sucked her cheeks in disapproval, dragging her eyes over her own mortified Doctor. "How times change, eh?"

"You are both absolutely awful," the Doctor chastised them. "Here he is minding his own business only to be accosted by a mad woman and her sister."

Zoe raised a hand. "Which of us is the mad woman?"

"Clearly you, love."

"Love?" The younger Doctor looked at Zoe with renewed interest. "How interesting."

"I can show you how interesting if you've got an hour to spare," she offered, grin widening as her Doctor spluttered and turned red. Colour crept up the neck of the younger Doctor, his finger attempting to loosen his collar that was embroidered with two red question marks: She appreciated the detail to his ridiculous fashion sense. "This is far too good an opportunity to pass up."

"What in the nine circles of hell is this?" The Doctor demanded. "Rose, will you weigh in here, please?"

"Nope."

"Rose!"

"What d'you want me to say?" Rose asked. "An' are you jealous of yourself?"

Zoe leaned against the younger Doctor, resting her head on his shoulder who placed his head atop of his, and slid her hand down to his, their fingers twining together. He flexed around her hand, surprised at how well they fit.

"Surprisingly, he does get jealous," Zoe said. "Bit weird to be jealous of yourself though."

"Oh, don't be so hard on him, my dear," the younger Doctor said. "We've never been particularly fond of our past selves. We don't like to look back, you see?"

The Doctor blew out his cheeks, exasperated and not enjoying the way he and Zoe were standing on top of each other. "Will you get off –?"

"DOCTOR!"

Both Doctors jumped at the bellow of their name. Zoe went up onto her toes to watch as a young woman in a heavy leather jacket decorated with patches burst out of the crowd, a laser blaster exploding the table of VHS tapes that sent people scattering. Twisting to avoid the rubble, she fell over her own feet and knocked Rose to the ground, landing on top of her with a grunt, blonde ponytail blinding both of them.

"Ow," Rose groaned.

Zoe's face lit up. "Ace!"

"Sorry, shit, are you okay?" Ace scrambled off Rose and helped her to her feet, bumping into the older Doctor who stared at her and drank in her features with a hunger that he was bad at concealing. Fortunately, Ace was too preoccupied to notice. She staggered back as though drunk, a bruise blooming across her temple and she pointed a finger at her Doctor. "Zygons! They're really not happy with me."

"Oh, dear," the younger Doctor said, absently running his thumb over the back of Zoe's knuckles. "You didn't happen to blow anything up, did you? They don't like it when that happens."

"No," Ace said, petulantly. There was a beat before – "maybe a door."

"Excellent," Zoe grinned. "I knew you'd be brilliant and here you are, brilliant."

Ace paused, momentarily taken aback. "Sorry, who are you?"

"A huge fan is what I am." She reached out to shake her hand except her Doctor intervened and looped their fingers together so that she had a Doctor on either side of her. His eyes drank Ace in with obvious enthusiasm, hearts throbbing from the unexpected encounter. "I've heard all about you from the Doctor and love your work, particularly the explosive nature of it, but don't mind me. Although –" Zoe leaned in and peered at her, eyes flicking over her face. "You look very familiar to me. And I don't just mean from the pictures I've seen. There's something about you that makes me think we've met before. Have we? Met before, that is."

"I –" Ace blinked. "No?"

"Huh."

"Jesus, you're as bad as the bloody Doctor," Rose complained, turning to Ace. "You said there are Zygons?"

"Yeah," Ace replied, looking away from Zoe and her eyes blowing wide, arm raised in a point. "There there are. We need to run. Look!"

A large number of Zygons shoved their way through the crowd, marching towards them with their suckers flaring in anger, and Zoe pulled a face. Zygons always knew how to ruin a perfectly lovely day. She was beginning to suspect it was built into their DNA.

"Ah, yes, that is a little problematic," the younger Doctor said and turned to Zoe, giving her hand a squeeze. "Right, well, young lady –"

"Oh, I don't like that," Zoe said. "Definitely don't call me young lady again."

"It's been an absolute pleasure to meet you." He lifted her knuckles to his mouth, placing a kiss that sent a small shiver of want rolling through her. "Though I do suspect I'm about to forget it. One of those complications of crossing my own time stream I told you about."

"That's a shame," she said, loosening his red tie a little, fingers grazing over the soft skin of his throat to feel his breath hitch. Behind her, her Doctor coughed pointedly. "But for the best, I suppose. Can't have you dreaming about me for the next few centuries."

His smile widened. "I'll look forward to meeting you in due course then."

"You'd better." Zoe leaned in and pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth, close enough that he as left in no doubt about his future relationship with her, and she felt the heat burn through his skin as he flushed, Rose and Ace pointedly looking the other way. "Bye, Ace. Nice meeting you, even if it was a brief one."

Ace gave a small, confused wave and took the younger Doctor's hand, the two of them disappearing into the crowd at a run. The Doctor, Rose, and Zoe took a step back out of the way of the Zygons that stormed past them. When the horde had passed, the Doctor turned to Zoe with raised eyebrows.

"You were going to have sex with me," he accused.

"Absolutely."

"That would've completely changed the timelines!"

"Nonsense," she scoffed. "Two of you in the same place at the same time, I know how wibbly-wobbly things get. We'd have had a nice shag that you'd soon forget only to remember around about now. Such a shame you don't get to have that, don't you think?"

Rose rolled her eyes as the Doctor and Zoe started bickering and wandered off into the crowd away from them.


Jack padded into the living room of their rented apartment wearing nothing more than a loose sarong about his hips. Knees healing nicely and able to hold his weight for long stretches at a time, sex had finally been incorporated back into their daily lives as long as they were careful, which Jack made sure they were to head off Mickey's fussing.

After an initial period of tentativeness and attempting to find the best position, they had made up for lost time. Jack's hair was a mess and his body ached pleasantly from the last two days of fairly strenuous activities that had kept them indoors. Not that it mattered as the skies had opened and rain hammered down onto the beach and the surrounding areas for three days straight; the news reports said that it was going to come to an end tomorrow, at which point they had plans to visit the waterfall the Doctor had mentioned, cheeks pink at whatever memory of him and Zoe was centred around it.

Stifling a yawn, he tried to remember where he had put the coffee beans.

Moving from the hotel to a rented apartment meant that they had to be responsible for their own meals and Mickey had gone shopping on their first day – Jack's knees sparking with pain at the time – and brought back huge bagfuls of food that meant they wouldn't have to go shopping again except for fresh produce. Finding the beans in the cupboard by the fridge, he popped open the golden bag and inhaled the smell of the beans, thinking of Zoe who did the same thing every morning: A small routing that made him think of home and grow nostalgic.

Beans in the grinder, he picked up his phone and checked for messages. The others were clearly off having fun and Jack was quietly pleased they weren't simply skipping ahead as he preferred to keep them all linear – Zoe's experience with missing time made him suspicious when she was out of sync with him for too long, worried that when he next saw the girls they would have aged twenty years.

Swiping open his messages, he read through a stream of consciousness from the Doctor that made Jack suspect he had left the voice-to-text on and got distracted; enjoyed a picture of Rose and Zoe with their cheeks pressed together, sharing a huge milkshake that he was going to print out and put on the fridge; and skimmed over a message from Jackie who was checking in on them. Not having spoken to Jackie since her birthday except via text, he decided to call her instead and smiled when she picked up.

"Hello, love," Jackie's warm voice said into his ear. "Not bored of your holiday already, are you?"

"Not yet," Jack said, pulling some strawberries and cubed melon from the fridge, wondering if he should make Mickey a bacon sandwich to go with the fruit salad. "Although it's pissing it down right now. We stuck inside."

"I'm sure you're right cut up about that," she said, dryly.

He laughed. "You've caught me."

"How are you feelin'?"

"Better, a lot better," he said, honestly. "I only have to use the cane right now. We haven't officially retired the wheelchair but I haven't used it in about a week and it's been brilliant. By the time the Doctor comes and picks us up, I should be back to normal."

"That's the best news I've heard in bloody ages," Jackie said, the sincerity in her voice sending warmth melting through him. "I've been worried about you."

"You don't need to do that," Jack said, deciding to make the bacon sandwich since he fully intended on keeping Mickey in bed all day and it was important to get as much energy as possible. "I always bounce back."

Jackie huffed. "I'm worryin' about you an' there's nothin' you can do to stop it. You're family now an' all, so you'll just have to deal with it."

Thick emotion lodged in his throat. Family. It had been decades since he had had family, his mother as lost to him as his father and Gray, and he found it difficult to respond. When he did, his words shook and she was kind enough not to comment on it.

"What about you?" Jack asked. "Rose seems to think you've got a boyfriend."

"Rose needs to mind her own business," Jackie said, tartly. "But she's not far wrong. I've been seein' someone, only a little mind an' it's nothin' too serious. We met down at the laundrette when I was doin' my duvets after Sabrina finally left. He's a nice bloke. Proper nice an' not that pretend nice either. I'm just seein' where it goes."

"Good, that's really good," he said, pouring oil into the pain and flicking the heat on. "What's his name?"

"Why?" The suspicion in her voice cracked a smile across his face. "You goin' to run a background check or somethin'?"

"It's not the worst idea in the world," Jack told her. "But it's just so I know who to ask after. If you like, I can ask how your lover's doing?"

She made a sound on the other end. "His name's Elton, an' that's enough of that. We haven't even done anythin' yet. We've met up for coffee an' I let him use my washin' machine instead of payin' through the nose at the laundrette."

"Taking it slow, that's nice."

"Yeah, well, I always rush into these things, thought I'd try somethin' different this time," she said.

"Good for you," Jack said. "Although, if he breaks your heart, I'll be there in an instant to break his arm."

Jackie laughed. "Thanks, love."

The conversation slipped away from Elton and danced around a few different topics – Sabrina and Leia were back in Essex though Sabrina had a job interview in Bristol in two weeks and they would be going down there, stopping in London on the way back; Sarah Jane had popped in for coffee and a chat, the subject of which Jack imagined was the Doctor and Zoe; and she was off out with Bev and Ru that evening for drinks at a nice bar in central London courtesy of the Doctor's bank card. She sounded happy and busy, something that eased a small knot of worry in Jack's chest. He understood why Jackie didn't want to travel with the Doctor but he worried about her back in London by herself even with Sarah Jane and Alistair there in case anything alien happened.

They said their goodbyes as the smell of frying bacon drew a dishevelled Mickey from the bedroom, his long form staggering, heel of one hand rubbing at his tired eyes. Jack set his phone down and moved the bacon in the pan with the spatula, closing his eyes as Mickey plastered himself against his back, mouth kissing the soft curve of his neck in greeting

"Mornin'," he murmured, tone thick with sleep and honey and Jack wondered if monogamy was always so wonderful or if it was simply because it was with Mickey. "Were you talkin' to someone?"

"Jackie." He cleared his throat and turned his head to give him a proper, if fleeting, kiss. "Having a quick catch up."

Mickey hummed and reached around him for a cup of coffee. "She all right?"

"Yeah, she's fine, keeping busy and all," Jack said, keeping her tentative relationship to himself. "There's a fruit salad on the bar and bacon sandwiches are on their way."

"You're amazing," he groaned, lightly biting his shoulder before removing himself – and his warmth – to drink his coffee. "Thank you."

Jack looked down into the pan filled with sizzling back and smiled, contentment spooling through his entire body.


Space Station 3679-Ω◎

Time Unknown

Rose gasped when she resurfaced, spitting out a mouthful of thick orange liquid; the same liquid that stripped her clothes from her body, dissolving her T-shirt, skirt, and shoes into nothingness, mercifully leaving her skin untouched. From above her on the metal ramparts, the Doctor stared over the edge with wide eyes, stunned she had dived headfirst into an unknown vat of liquid. At his feet, a man lay unconscious and Rose pulled a face: Too little too late. Her toes were unable to reach the bottom of the vat forcing her to awkwardly paddle to the side, keeping one arm stretched up out of the liquid. The liquid had gone up her arm to her wrist, narrowly missing the Scrolls of Vangåår that remained dry through what felt like divine intervention more than anything else.

As she grasped hold of the edge of the vat and caught her breath, the Doctor vaulted neatly over the railing and landed on his feet next to the wide container. He looked ridiculous in the stolen thick, dark blue robes of the monastery that had sent assassins after the Holder of the Scrolls of Vangåår – not that he didn't normally look ridiculous it was just that the robes emphasised the general ridiculous nature of him. Straightening up, he plucked the undamaged scrolls from her hand and examined them.

"Nicely done," the Doctor said, pleased. "The nuns are going to be happy."

"I'm so pleased," Rose said, sarcasm dripping from her. She slapped the surface of the liquid and watched it ripple and shiver without a single splash. "What even is this?"

He dipped his finger into it.. "No idea. Does it hurt?"

"No."

"I'm sure it's fine," he said, sniffing his finger and touching it to his tongue. Since he didn't immediately demand she get out of it, she remained where she was, conscious of the fact that she was naked. "Probably shouldn't have jumped into it though. You had no idea what it was. Could've been lava."

She worked her jaw, irritated at having the obvious pointed out to her. "You said that the Scrolls of the Vanguard –"

"Scrolls of Vangåår."

"Whatever." A heavy sigh rolled through her, the thought of her shower on the TARDIS the only thing of any interest to her in that moment. "You said that they were really important to the space nuns, somethin' about world peace. Figured they wouldn't like it if they got wet."

"You're absolutely right," the Doctor said, smiling at her. "You know, it's really nice to know that you listen when I speak. Thank you."

"Piss off."

He snorted. "Need a hand out?"

"I'm naked," Rose told him. "This stupid liquid dissolved my clothes."

"Ah." He frowned. "Small problem."

"What's a small problem?" Zoe asked, appearing from the shadows covered in dust from having been tossed into a pile of cobwebs that decorated one corner of the room. "Rose, you're in a vat of liquid."

She flipped her off with goop-covered fingers.

"Rose is having a small issue with her clothes," the Doctor said. "As in she is no longer wearing any. The liquid appears to dissolve inorganic items, which really makes it a relief that you threw yourself into it despite the potential danger. These scrolls are hundreds of thousands of years old. Losing them would've been an unspeakable loss to the nunnery."

"Space nuns, still cool even with the assassins," Zoe said, twisting her fingers at the Doctor. "Turn your back, love. Rosie, take my hand."

"I'm still goin' to be naked," she protested, taking Zoe's hand as the Doctor spun on his heels and faced the other direction, eyes closed for good measure. "An' I'm not walkin' back to the TARDIS like this."

"There's a sheet in one of the corners," the Doctor said, pointing. "We can use that to wipe you down and then I'll give you this very fetching robe I stole. And when I say we'll wipe you down, I mean Zoe. I should point out though that modesty is a very human concept. From about the 40th century onwards, modesty goes the way of the Dodo."

"Yeah, well, I'm from the 21st century an' we care," Rose said, nearly falling out of the vat, hand on Zoe's shoulder and burning through the material there. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Zoe reached out with her foot and prodded the Doctor. "Can you get the sheet, please? She's dripping everywhere. Without looking as well."

"Right-o," the Doctor said cheerfully and proceeded to walk directly into a support beam. "Ow."


"What's the point of goin' to a party if we're not partyin'?"

Jack pulled back from mouthing a path down the skin of Mickey's neck, the buzz of alcohol and ecstasy in his system slowing him down. Mickey was sober, he always was when Jack tried whatever Earth drug was to hand. Since he wasn't capable of becoming addicted to the pills he took or the drugs he occasionally snorted for a high that normal alcohol couldn't provide, his Time Agency-approved augmentation preventing such things as it filtered out the addictive enzymes and left him with the good ones, he liked to indulge on occasion. And despite assuring him it was unnecessary, Mickey preferred to remain sober and in control when Jack decided to party a little harder than normal.

The pulse of the music from Fiona and Marvin's party sent fine vibrations through the floor and into their feet; laughter filled the air and a glass broke somewhere that sent people into waves of laughter. It was a last-minute invitation extended by their new Australian neighbours who were on the island for only two weeks but determined to make a hedonistic go of it and since neither Jack nor Mickey had anything else to do, they accepted the invitation. Had Mickey known he was walking into an orgy/drug party, he would have refused; he had come close to leaving before catching sight of the look on Jack's face and decided to stay despite the fact he didn't feel particularly comfortable.

As long as he stuck close to Jack he was fine and since Jack wasn't inclined to let him go too far, everything had been more fun than he thought it would be.

"This is a type of party, a private party," Jack said, rubbing his nose across Mickey's jaw, chest heaving as he pressed his arousal into the edge of Mickey's hip that sent breath stuttering through his chest."If you like, we can head out there and mingle."

"I didn't say that," Mickey protested, looping his fingers through his hair and tugging his mouth closer, licking into him. "Just that we could've done this at ours."

"Where's the fun in that?" He murmured, pressing himself close. "I want people to know we're together. Let them envy us."

"You like people looking at you," Mickey said, a tinge of accusation lacing his words. "You get off on it."

"I do," he agreed, cheeks flushed and he licked a path up Mickey's neck. "I like knowing people find pleasure in watching me. Does it bother you?"

"Yes, a little," Mickey admitted. "But that's my problem, not yours."

Jack hummed and kissed him again, tongue slipping into Mickey's mouth as his hand slid down his back to grab a firm buttock, pulling him into him. Pressing him hard against the bathroom sink, the sounds he made – the soft, mewling sounds of pleasure that always seemed to take him by surprise – sent Jack's head spinning, and he rucked up the pale blue shirt Mickey wore to splay his fingers across his stomach. Rocking into him, sharp shocks of pleasure ran up his cock and he breathed sharply against Mickey's wet mouth.

Dropping his head back against the mirror, Mickey held onto Jack and moved his hips against his, struggling to breathe.

"D'you miss it?" He asked around a gasp. "The variety? I know we're not exactly doin' what you're used to."

They hadn't spoken much about their sexual history for the simple fact that there wasn't much to talk about on Mickey's side – certainly not with men – and the idea of hearing about Jack's intimidated him a little. Having briefly met John Hart, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what sort of men Jack had regularly taken to bed.

"I don't miss it," Jack said, finding him words as pleasure began to make everything hazy, aware that if they didn't stop them walking out of the bathroom with stained shorts was going to be in his immediate future. "It was fun but this is so much more. I wouldn't change this for anything. If you ever want to experiment though, I'm open to it. I've done most things at least once but there's no pressure."

Mickey swallowed, hand carding through Jack's hair, pulling him closer and changing the angle of his hips. "Not yet but maybe one day."

Jack nodded and kissed him again, harder and with more purpose. His hands fell off Mickey's body and clutched the edge of the sink, his orgasm rushing through him, body twitching. His skin tingled with the pleasure and he turned a muzzy face into Mickey's, kissing him clumsily, deft fingers slipping open the buttons on his shorts. His knees started to bend, hand already wrapped around Mickey's cock, only to be stopped halfway, firm hands grasping him by his elbows.

"Are you mad?" Mickey demanded, eyes dilated with pleasure, mouth set in a sharp line. "You're not kneeling on this marble bloody floor with your knees."

Jack blinked. "Good point."

He turned from him, reassured by the small sound of protest Mickey made, and he pulled free multitudes of towels and one thick dressing gown that he dropped onto the floor and made into a nest. Sinking down onto it, it was uncomfortable but as long as he wasn't down there for long, he was sure he would be fine.

"Get up," Mickey told him. "I'm not havin' you do your knees in just to give me a blowjob."

"I won't do them in as long as you're quick," Jack said, tongue laving a stripe up the side of his length. Mickey grunted, hips twitching. "So you'd better be quick about it."

Various curse words flew out over his head as Jack swallowed the head of his cock and closed his eyes, bliss passing over him at the heavy weight of it on his tongue; he didn't care if it took all night, he was staying where he was until he was done.


Disney World, 2765

A curtain of rain fell over Zoe when she stuck her head out of the Hall of Mirrors, the deluge soaking her through from the shoulders up as she scanned the area for danger. When she pulled herself back inside, Rose was waiting with a towel picked up from the gift shop on their sprint through the building – never know when you'll need one was Jack's motto and, annoyingly, he was often correct. She took the towel emblazoned with the face of Mickey Mouse and scrubbed at her hair, her curls frizzing and rising around her, creating a halo of untamed hair that she often fought to avoid. Rose raised an eyebrow and Zoe stared back at her, daring her to say something.

"Anyone out there?" Rose asked, wisely avoiding the elephant in the room.

"Stormtroopers," Zoe said. "A whole lot of them. And, seriously, when did Disney buy Star Wars?"

"I know." She rolled her eyes. "Mickey found that out while you were studyin', apparently they buy a whole lot of stuff in like ten years from our time. He said we should buy stock."

"Do you think that would be abusing our role as time travellers?"

"No idea," Rose said. "I told Mum to buy some though."

Zoe flashed her a grin. "Nice."

She finished drying her hair and shoulders before dropping the sodden towel on the ground. Normally, when running for her life and/or freedom, she tried not to leave signs that she had been there, however the whole building was surrounded. Stormtroopers guarded the entrance while Gaston and the laser pitchfork carrying townsfolk covered the rear; the dark form of Scar and his pride were also visible through the rain, which was the one stroke of good luck they had had. The Doctor must have broken the climate control system and rain was pouring down on them as a torrent, sending deep rivers of water running through the streets of the park. It gave them an advantage as they were used to working in all weather but the characters on Disney World were not.

"Any luck with the screwdriver?"

Before they had been forcibly parted, the Doctor had tossed the sonic screwdriver to them and Rose had caught it. Unfortunately, there was something in the atmosphere that was preventing it from working properly and they had accidentally burnt down Ariel's underwater palace attempting to open a door, discovering that the water on Disney World was highly flammable. Since Rose best understood the screwdriver outside of the Doctor as she often liked to fiddle with it when she was bored, entertaining herself with the various settings from enhanced banana growth to reminder for Jamie's birthday, she was in charge of getting it to work. A few attempted reboots and a hard whack against the nearest mirror did the trick, and she twirled it between her fingers in triumph.

"Yeah, actually," Rose said. "It's workin' now."

"Brill, nice one," Zoe said. "Think you can find our missing Time Lord?"

"Probably," she said, tongue stuck between her teeth as she worked the screwdriver. "How much trouble d'you think he's in?"

"Well, since we interrupted what looks to be a corporate takeover with long-implanted spies as characters," Zoe recapped. "I'd say a little bit more trouble than we'd like but not so much that he'll be killed for it before we get there."

She waved the screwdriver around in the air and looked as mad as the Doctor normally did, a soft beep freezing her in place. "Aha! We need to go east."

"That's west."

"Same difference," Rose said, grabbing her hand. "C'mon."

The tall circular turrets of Sleeping Beauty's castle rose up out of the ground and cast a forbidding silhouette against the dark sky, thunder crackling behind it; despite the somewhat uncertain situation, Zoe appreciated how atmospheric their rescue mission was. Forced to swerve swerve off course when Cruella de Vil roared in front of them in her car, the Genie appearing in a flash of blue light with his arms extending, growing in size, sent them spinning away from another path.

Rose pointed the sonic over her shoulder at the Genie. "You're supposed to be a good guy, idiot!"

The Genie cried out as the electrics short-circuited and a small man in a black all-in-one fell out of the sky and landed in the backseat of Cruella's car.

Zoe laughed. "That looked painful."

"Shit," Rose cursed as they sprinted towards the draw bridge that had been raised, a huge moat between them and the Doctor, crocodiles snapping within. "Any idea how we're goin' to get across?"

"When I was in France, Reinette and I scaled the walls of the Bastille," Zoe told her, grabbing a balloon that Rose turned solid with the screwdriver and throwing it at the Seven Dwarfs like a bowling ball, knocking them off their feet. "Think we're going to have to do the same here. Look for some rope."

"Why the fuck did you an' Reinette break into the Bastille?"

"Aliens were killing children," she said with a dismissive wave. "Long story. Rope now."

"Yes, Doctor," Rose mocked.

They rummaged in the darkness, rain pouring down on them, enemies closing in on all sides before they found a length of thick rope half-consumed by the raging moat. Scar roared close by and Zoe roared back, startling whoever was operating the animatronics for a split second. Hands working quickly, she was able to fashion a harpoon from the items to hand – a length of metal from the security railing that Rose broke off using the screwdriver, pieces of faux wood plastic shattered from a sign asking people not to litter, and a small core of energy pumped into a pebble from the screwdriver that gave them enough power to throw the makeshift harpoon through the air and into the wall.

"Honest to god, I'm surprised that worked," Zoe said.

"Not so fast." A snowman appeared before them, launched into their path by a reindeer herder and a Prince Charming. "You're not going anywhere."

"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" Rose demanded. "Frosty?"

"I'm Olaf," the snowman said. "From Frozen."

"Never heard of it," Zoe said.

"Never –?" The snowman trailed off, incredulous. "How haven't you heard of Frozen? It's one of Disney's biggest movies."

"Are you sure you don't mean Frosty?" Rose asked. "Because we've heard of Frosty."

"Definitely heard of Frosty," Zoe nodded. "Now there's a snowman that's famous."

"I'm not Frosty!"

"All right, blimey." Rose shared a look with Zoe, repositioning herself. "Little sensitive, aren't you?"

"Wouldn't you be?"

"Probably," she shrugged. "Sorry about this by the way."

Olaf tipped his head. "Sorry about what?"

Rose pushed him hard and whoever was controlling the snowman yelped as they went rolling down the hill and splashed into the water, water sparking from their suit.

"Shit, I didn't think about the electrics." She peered through the rain. "Think they're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm sure they're fine," Zoe lied. "Come on, let's go."

They grabbed hold of the end of the rope that was stretched from castle to land and they dove into the lake. Whoever was operating the moat caused huge waves to swell up in an attempt to buffer them away from their goal, serving only to make things more difficult for Olaf the unfortunate snowman who every time he got close to the shore found himself swept away again, the reindeer herder attempting to pull him back in.

Rose and Zoe on the other hand were used to working against the odds and pulled themselves along the rope until they were at the wall, palms twisting and breaking from the effort of hauling themselves up the side of the wet building. Reaching the top, Zoe rolled herself over the wall and incapacitated a wardrobe and a teapot from Beauty and the Beast by the time Rose fell over in a pile of limbs that accidentally knocked Captain America down the stairs, shielding bouncing after him.

"Wait," Zoe frowned. "They own Marvel too?"

Rose staggered to her feet. "God, I can't feel my arms."

"Going to the gym more than once a year helps."

"Sounds horrible."

Having not expected them to breach the castle at all, let alone from the roof, the guards were unprepared for their assault. Rose grabbed a book and clobbered Belle over the head with it, the princess's body dropping like a bag of rocks, and Zoe ducked beneath Cinderella's arms to slam her head first into a wall, glass slipper falling from her delicate foot. She planted her feet in Pocahontas's chest and knocked her back into the fire while Rose kicked a chair into the path of Ariel and hurled a glass at Jasmine, getting her on the boob. Snow White and Mulan stood above a bound and gagged Doctor, a beautiful golden apple raised above his head and a curved sword at his throat.

Zoe snatched up Cinderella's shoe and brandished it. "Put down the apple, Snow, and lower the sword, Mulan, or I'm going to knock you both out with a shoe."

Rose spun around Zoe and punched Snow White in the stomach, sending her to the ground coughing; she grabbed a handful of Mulan's hair and yanked, the sword clattering to the ground as Mulan cried out. Rose kicked her in the stomach to keep her down, purposefully stepping on Snow White's hand as she checked the room. Ariel moved and Rose picked up the apple and flung it at her, the princess falling back, unconscious.

None of the other princess's moved.

The Doctor's eyebrows shot up and Zoe observed the scene with surprise. "All right then. That's a damned fine way of taking care of things."

"If any of you thinks about movin'," Rose threatened the others who were nursing their injuries – Jasmine looked particularly mutinous as she rubbed her sore breast. "I'm goin' to clobber you with somethin' else, understood?"

With Rose deftly handling the situation, Zoe set the glass shoe down and hurried to the Doctor, working the gag out of his mouth.

"Hi, hello." Her hands skimmed over him, checking him for injuries. "You okay?"

"I got kidnapped by Lilo and Stitch," the Doctor said. "I need a moment to accept how far I've fallen."


Mickey laughed against the side of Jack's neck as their feet became tangled on, tripping over each other and only managing to keep their balance through sheer luck and Jack's athleticism. Music played throughout the living room – one of Zoe's cheesy 90s pop playlists that Jack actually liked – and the soft thrum of their day drinking rolled through Mickey like warm water; his head was fogged in a pleasant way and his skin felt alive with energy. Jack was humming along to the music, unusually half a beat behind, and their bodies were pressed together as they swayed on the spot. Jack forwent the usual twists and turns he typically deployed into his dancing for the simple intimacy of holding Mickey close and swaying together in the living room.

"You are my fire," Jack sang into his ear, fingers skimming down the length of his spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. "The one desire."

"Believe when I say," Mickey picked up.

"I want it that way," they sang together.

As the golden afternoon sun slanted over them and the melodies of the Backstreet Boys wrapped around them, Jack kissed him: A gentle brush of lips over his mouth before resting at the corner, eyelashes brushing against Mickey's cheek. Their plan that morning had been to go hiking yet neither of them had found the energy to dress after their shower and turned to mimosas instead, which turned into cocktails, which became being drunk by one o'clock in the afternoon as they played naked Scrabble. It was a perfect day and Jack never wanted it to end, pressing himself closer to Mickey and sighing against his neck as he enjoyed the company, the feeling of complete serenity, and the fact that his knees hadn't hurt for at least a week.

"This is good music," Jack murmured as Mickey guided them away from the coffee table, fingers tangled together against his chest. "Far better music than I grew up with. It's fun and bubbly."

"This is the best song ever written," Mickey told him. "Don't tell Zo I said that though. I don't want to encourage the 90s pop thing."

Jack's mouth spread into a smile against his jaw. "Don't think she needs much encouragement there."

"That's true." Mickey closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the top of Jack's head, the smell of his shampoo lulling him to sleep standing up. "D'you think they dance in the middle of the afternoon?"

"Who?"

"Zoe an' the Doctor."

"Probably," Jack said. "She loves dancing and he's always been soft on helping her do the things she loves."

"Good," he said, pleased. "She deserves someone who loves her."

Jack looked up, interested. "Hello. Does this mean you've come around to the idea then?"

"I was never against it," he said.

"Well, no, but you weren't enthusiastic about it," Jack told him, tumbling them onto a sofa and Mickey twisted him so that he was lying on his back, still concerned about his knees. Jack spread his legs so that Mickey was able to lie comfortable between them. "Every time I mentioned it, you'd get this look on your face."

"What look?" Jack mimicked the expression and Mickey laughed. "Sod off. I don't look like that."

"True," he agreed. "You're much more handsome."

"And you're drunk."

"That –" Jack traced his finger down the bridge of Mickey's nose. "– is true. We should day drink more often. I don't know why more people don't."

"Not all of us have livers that repair themselves in an hour or two," Mickey pointed out. "Mine takes a little longer than yours."

"Bah." Jack pulled a face. "We could probably get that replaced. Upgrade you and all."

He snorted. "You sound like a –"

"Cyberman, I heard it," Jack said with a grimace. "That's not what I meant. I don't actually know what I meant. I probably shouldn't have had that last cocktail. I don't know what you put in it but I can't feel my face."

Mickey poked his cheek. "Feel that?"

"Ow, yes."

"That didn't hurt, you big baby," he said, shifting until he had Jack squashed between him and the back of the sofa, pulling the soft grey throw down over their bodies. "Nap time now."

"Afternoon naps," Jack cooed, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. "Now there's something we can definitely get on board with. God, they're the best thing in the universe. Right after your –"

"Don't get yourself worked up when you're too tired to do anythin' about it," Mickey said, removing Jack's hand from between his thighs and kissing his fingers.

Jack made a small, mewling sound of complaint but settled down, body curving into Mickey's eyes already drooping with sleep. Mickey yawned and closed his eyes, the alcohol buzzing through his system, creating a feeling that he was riding a rollercoaster, and he fell asleep to the sound of Jack's soft snores blowing out against his chest.


Rome, 80BC

Soft sheets dragged up the bed and tangled in her fingers as Rose bit her lip, body arching up from the soft mattress. Pleasure prickled through her as teeth grazed against her inner thigh, confident that she wasn't going to regret this encounter as she regretted the one with Drew. The silence from his end was welcomed though somewhat guilt inducing although she had wanted the distance. She had brainstormed a text with Zoe that the Doctor glanced over and gave his seal of approval as a man, both of them keeping any judgement about the ill-advised one-night stand to themselves, before sending it.

Drew had sent back a simple text with an apology for overstepping and a politely bland good luck for the future that sent guilt writhing through her, certain it was going to be horribly awkward the next time she saw him.

At least this time she didn't have to worry about the reasons behind her taking someone to bed as the Doctor hadn't entered into the equation at all when Julius Caesar had stepped up next to her and offered her a glass of dark red wine. She was twenty years old and in the prime of her life. Jimmy had stolen a lot from her when it came to sexual confidence though Mickey had done his best to build her back up. And while she had always been vaguely aware that her crush on the Doctor was equal parts actually fancying him and finding him a safe person to fall in love with since she knew he would never hurt her, hope had been snatched from her when she caught him in a closet with her sister.

With him firmly out of the running, sleeping her way through history seemed like a fine way to enjoy her youth, even if she was certain Zoe wouldn't agree.

Therapy, she heard her sister say in her mind. That's the best way to fix yourself. Not by shagging any Tom, Dick, and Caesar.

And maybe the Zoe that lived in her mind was right, Rose didn't know. What she did know was that she was single, her friends and sister were happily coupled up, and Julius Caesar had kissed her behind a set of drapes with an intensity that made her slip away with him and disappear into his ornate bedroom.

A night with Caesar might be exactly what she needed and, if it wasn't, she doubted she would regret it since Julius Caesar had his head buried between her thighs, tongue moving against her. She ground her heels down into the mattress, hips rising up in an attempt to chase the pleasure, until his strong arm clamped over her, his iron grip pulling her firmer against his mouth.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she muttered.

Carding her fingers through his hair, she gasped as his tongue pressed into her, eyes flying wide open. Laughter bubbled up her chest at the fact that she, Rose Tyler, was in bed with Julius Caesar himself.

It was a shame no one back home would ever believe her.

One hand left her hip, sweeping over the curve of her ass before it joined his mouth between her legs and she breathed out at the feeling of something filling her. Her mind filled with nothing except the low, rolling build of pleasure that began low in her gut, not caring where Zoe or the Doctor had disappeared to during the party, not caring about anything except the fact that Caesar didn't stop what he was doing.

He was a man focused and she had never experienced anything like it. Jimmy had never done this to her, finding it filthy but expecting her to perform it on him; Mickey was good at it though she hadn't like him doing it since she found it difficult to repay the favour, not that he minded, sweet as he was: Caesar, however, was excellent.

He hooked a finger inside her and her hips shot up off the bed, her fingers tightening in his hair, his eyes glancing up as he grinned around her.

"There it is," he said, dipping back down.

There what is she wanted to ask, unable to speak as her orgasm approached on a freight train and it took barely a minute before it slammed into her. White light swept her vision and the cells in her body exploded into small fireworks of pleasure. She rode out the waves against him, his mouth working over her still, coaxing more and more pleasure from her strained body before she released his hair and flopped back, body shimmering with a thin hue of sweat.

"You are exquisite," Caesar informed him, wiping his mouth and chin on his sheets and there wasn't enough energy in her body to be embarrassed by the mess she had made of him. "I never want to let you leave when you make sounds like that."

He crawled up her body, knees on either side of her until he was boxing her in with his strong arms, taut with muscle. He wasn't as handsome as she imagined that morning when the Doctor told them they were going to a party thrown by Caesar and his wife Cornelia – a small part of her felt guilty for sleeping with another woman's husband but not enough to not do it – and Zoe and Rose had dug out their stolas.

Caesar didn't look like the sort of man to trigger the rise of the Roman Empire. He looked like a muscled accountant with a square head and jaw, forehead already creased with lines despite the fact he was only twenty in 80BC. She was reminded of the men she had seen around the estate who boxed and got their faces squashed by covered knuckles: He also reminded her of the Doctor – handsome if one was looking for it, ordinary if one wasn't.

"Did you enjoy that?"

Rose's chest expanded as she drew in a deep breath, fingertips resting against his mouth. "Wasn't it obvious?"

"A man likes to hear his works appreciated," Caesar replied, catching her fingers and sucking on them. "Or receive critique on areas on which to improve."

She breathed out. "Needy."

He laughed and kissed her again, tongue sweeping in and she tasted herself on it. Hooking one leg around his, she pulled him on top of him, relishing the heavy weight of him, and he took her hands and pressed them on either side of her head, her blonde hair splayed out like a cloud around her. Dragging her bottom lip between his teeth, he rolled and pulled her on top of him, hands settled on his hips.

"You look like a woman who enjoys being in control," Caesar said, tucking his hands behind his head, appearing perfectly at ease with her using him as she saw fit and the sudden burst of yes, please that burned through her took her by surprise. "So control me."

Taking control during sex wasn't something she was used to. Jimmy refused to consider the idea, one of the first red flags she ignored, and Mickey was happy to do whatever she wanted to make her feel safe again. And Drew – well, she and Drew hadn't even made it to his bed for it to matter who was on top of not. Refusing to allow Jimmy's black memory to poison her when she was with Julius Caesar, she braced her hands on his solid chest and relished the feel of his smooth chest beneath her palms. His eyes watched her as she positioned herself above him, reaching between them to wrap her hand around his cock, dragging her thumb over the head to send a shudder running through him.

"Don't think anyone controls you but you," Rose said.

He opened his mouth to respond only to groan, eyes closing as she sank down onto him. It was a slow smooth glide until she was pressed against his pubic hair, his fingers flexing and colour spreading over his chest like spilt paint. Rose exhaled and bowed her chin to her chest, relishing the stretch and the sheer oddity of having Julius Caesar inside of her.

"Rose –" a muscle twitched in his jaw.

Her eyes opened and looked down at him. One of the strongest men in history stared up at her with eyes blown wide with desire, lips parted in a gasp, and colour slashed across his cheeks because of her. Her muscles contracted on him, dragging another groan from him, and she moved, rolling her hips as she found her rhythm. Normally she was concerned about whether the other person was enjoying it – sometimes too anxious to properly enjoy herself – but she let those worries fade as she took what she wanted from Caesar, confident he was going to find his own release.

Catching her rhythm, Caesar bucked up into her with a sharp thrust when she came down on him, his pelvis digging into her clit, and she grabbed him by the elbows and dragged him until she was able to kiss him. His jaw dragged against her collarbone, his hand cupping one breast that he lifted to his mouth; she curled her fingers into his hair and held him to her, sparks of pleasure emanating out from his mouth, refusing to lose her pace, the muscles in his back shifting beneath her other hand.

"God, yes."

She pressed her forehead against the top of his head, eyes squeezed shut, another orgasm within her reach, and Caesar – beautiful, smart Caesar – reached between them and thumbed her clit. A cry wrenched itself from her mouth, orgasm drenching her in a second, more concentrated burst of pleasure, and he was tipping her over, hands hooked under her knees, moving within her, stuttered, warm grunts decorating her body. She had never come more than twice in one night, always too sensitive and pushing Mickey off her before he got it into his head to keep going, and it hurt but in a way that made her crave more.

Stretching one arm above her head, she gripped the pillow and tried to meet his deep, faltering thrusts; a third, weaker orgasm washed over her as he groaned, hips pressing into hers just as the Doctor burst through the door.

"Rose, we need to get going, there's – AH!"

The Doctor's face filled with colour at the sight before him: Caesar caught in the throes of his own orgasm and Rose's face muzzy from hers. As quickly as the colour came, it drained from him and he clapped a hand over his eyes with a loud slap before he twisted on the balls of his feet. Misjudging his speed, he turned in a full 360-degree circle, lifted his hand from his eyes, and yelped again. Caesar lay on top of Rose as he caught his breath, nuzzling at her neck and running a thumb over her nipple, most of her naked body kept out of the Doctor's view by his.

Mortification warred with amusement at the Doctor getting a taste of his own medicine. All she needed was –

"What are you doing?" Zoe demanded, appearing in the doorway. "We need to –" her words trailed off and her eyes went wide, mouth dropping open. Rose gave her a small wave. "Jesus fuck. Is that Julius Caesar?"

Rose poked Caesar in the shoulder. "Zoe, Caesar; Caesar, my sister, Zoe."

Caesar lifted his head from Rose's neck and blinked as though finally noticing they were no longer alone. "A pleasure."

"Hello," Zoe said, blankly.

"If you don't intend on joining us, perhaps you might leave this chamber so that we can be alone," Caesar suggested, his buttocks clenching as he shifted within Rose. She sank her teeth into her lip so as to not make a sound. "We're not close to being done."

"What the hell is going on?" The Doctor demanded, not knowing where to look and choosing to turn a stern gaze onto a point above Rose's head. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Could you –?" Rose patted Caesar's hip and both the Doctor and Zoe turned swiftly away when he left her body and rolled from the bed, padding to the table filled with drink and food. She wrapped the sheets around her. "I'm decent. Ish."

Zoe peeked around, amusement shining from her eyes, flashing her a thumbs up from behind the Doctor's back as the Doctor frowned at her.

"I expect this sort of behaviour from Jack," he told her. "Or I did before Mickey, but from you, Rose Tyler? I'm disappointed."

"That's a bit of a double standard, love," Zoe pointed out. "Rose is free to have sex with whomever she wants."

"Quite right, carrissima," Caesar said, tilting his glass of wine towards her in recognition, eyes sweeping over the Doctor. "Shame on you, sir. Surely you must know that that which divides gender is mere social construct than anything truly moralistic. Why should women not enjoy the pleasures of flesh as much as men?"

"Button it, Caesar," the Doctor shot back. "She can have all the sex she wants but who knows what diseases you're carrying. Did you even think to use a condom?"

Rose flushed. "Shut up."

"The TARDIS can really take care of all that," Zoe pointed out, reasonably. "And she does have a contraceptive jab."

"Thought Jackie would've been on at you about safe sex," the Doctor said, ignoring her.

"It's not like I leave the TARDIS carryin' them," Rose snapped.

Zoe whistled sharply, their eyes snapping to her. In the corner, Caesar popped a grape into his mouth, watching everything unfold with the greatest of interest.

"Doctor, stop picking a fight with her," she said, his mouth dropping open in offence. "Rose, please put some clothes on. The Cult of Demeter and Persephone have somehow got their hands on the equivalent of a nuclear weapon and we need to stop them before they blow up Rome."

Rose stared at her. "How –?"

"Best guess is there was a ship passing overhead who had problems with one of their engines that run of nuclear energy and they dumped it," Zoe shrugged. "It came down to Earth, somehow didn't explode, and some religious nuts got their hands on it. Doesn't really matter."

"You're rather mad," Caesar said, conversationally. "I quite like it."

"Thank you," Zoe said even as the Doctor scowled at him. "Sorry we can't stay and chat but things to do and all that. I'm sure you know how it is."

Rose dropped the sheet from around her, the Doctor tripping over himself to avoid looking at her despite the fact that modesty was an outdated concept and she dressed as quickly as she was able, using the sheet to clean between her legs. When she turned around, Caesar was there, taking her into her arms and kissing her so thoroughly that the Doctor made pained noises at the sounds he heard as Zoe covered her ears with her hands.

"Right." Rose swallowed and stared at him when he released her. "Well...it's been fun."

"That it has," Caesar said with a smile. "Enjoy your cult."

"Enjoy...Rome," she said, stepping back from him and regaining her breath. Zoe was at her side, fingers linking with her to stop her from tumbling back into bed with Caesar. "And say hi to Cleopatra for me when she turns up."

His brow creased. "Who?"

"Never mind," Rose said, hurrying out the door with her sister and a scowling Doctor. "See you around!"


Jack paused to let a couple he vaguely recognised from around the resort pass through the doors, smiling at their thanks, before he left the glass reception and ambled slowly up the neat path. The TARDIS was arriving that day – a text that morning reminding them to be at the rendezvous in time – and Jack was oddly reluctant to leave. He knew that he and Mickey couldn't keep living the decadent life they had been enjoying for the last six weeks but it was a period of time that Jack was sure he was going to treasure as it was the first decent length of time they had spent with just each other for company. He hadn't had time to be worried over whether or not their relationship would survive such close proximity without the others there to act as a buffer, his attention in the first two weeks entirely focused on his recovery, and by the time the thought crossed his mind, everything was going well.

Spending time alone with Mickey had reinforced Jack's belief that this relationship was it for him.

He didn't know how Mickey felt – though he suspected it was the same – but Jack was comfortable in believing that he was done. The thought of the decades stretching out before them, living side by side together wherever they chose to settle down, sent excitement fizzing through his veins.

"There you are," Mickey said, relaxed on a bench near the spot the Doctor had sworn blind he would pick them up from. "Check out go okay?"

"They were sorry to see us go," he said, sitting next to him. "We racked up a bit of a bill. I didn't know the apartment was that expensive when we booked it through them."

"Jesus, how much was it?" Jack showed him the receipt on the phone and Mickey choked. "How much?!"

"Good job the Doctor paid for it," he said. "I haven't had money of my own since World War Two. Most of my stuff got blown up with the ship."

Mickey rubbed his chest. "Where does he even get his money from anyway, do you know?"

"Not a clue," Jack said. "Personally, I think the TARDIS prints money for him and leaves it in his pockets or keeps his money sticks up to date. It's not like he's going to inflate an economy with what he spends."

"Maybe just a small one," Mickey said, thinking of the bill. Jack laughed and traced faint patterns on Mickey's jean-clad thigh, the time of shorts and no clothes at an end. "You all right?"

"Yeah." He danced his fingers down to his knee and gave it a squeeze. "Just going to be sorry to see the back of this place. I've had a good time."

"Me too," Mickey told him. "We should come back again. Or try that place in France Zoe went to."

"Just the two of us?"

"Of course."

Jack's smile brightened his face. "It's a date then."

Mickey leaned in and kissed him, Jack finding his hand and tangling their fingers together as the sound of the TARDIS reached their ears. Aware of the blustery nature of the TARDIS appearing, they each put their feet on their bags to stop them from being buffeted away by the winds. With a smoother materialisation process than when they had last seen her, the TARDIS settled on a patch of ground set away from the bench, her bluer-than-blue shell set nicely against the clear blue of the sea.

A bubble of anticipation rolled up through his chest and the door opened: Rose bounded out, her hair thrown onto the top of her head in a messy bun wearing what looked to be one of Jack's T-shirts loosely tucked into a pair of denim shorts, her feet bare.

"Jack, Mickey!" Jack stood and caught her in his arms when she flung herself at him, laughing delightedly in his ear and dragging Mickey into the embrace. "Oh my god, look at you! You look so healthy. Doctor, Zoe, hurry up!"

"We're coming, we're coming," the Doctor complained. "If you hadn't sprinted off before I finished landing, we wouldn't – Jack, blimey, you look great!"

"Doesn't he?" Mickey asked, proudly, lifting Zoe off her feet in a hug. "Doesn't even have any pain any more. We went for a hike yesterday an' everythin', not even a twinge."

The Doctor drew Jack into a hug that spoke of his relief. Not wanting to be left out, Rose joined them and pulled Zoe and Mickey into the embrace. Jack found himself surrounded by the people he loved most, his nose jammed into the Doctor's neck with an arm around Zoe, Rose wriggling in between them as Mickey rested his chin on his shoulder, sharing his joy.

"I missed you idiots," Jack said.

"We missed you too," Zoe said, beaming up at him. "Four weeks was all we could handle before we jumped forward a bit. Well, that and the fact that Rose and the Doctor keep sniping at each other sort of gave us an incentive."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "What happened?"

"Rose shagged Julius Caesar and it's a whole thing," she said. "How was your holiday?"

"Wait, what?" Mickey asked, ignoring her question, eyes fixed on Rose. "Julius Caesar as in that Roman guy. Caesarion's dad?"

"I love the fact you only know him as Caesarion's dad," the Doctor said with a chuckle. "And the one in the same. She couldn't have chosen a worst time for it either. We had a bit of a situation with a religious cult getting hold of nuclear weapons and this one here –" he rubbed his knuckles over the top of Rose's head, getting a jab in the ribs for his effort. "– was occupied with Caesar."

"He's just sore because he walked in on us," Rose said. "An' as I told him, now he knows what it feels like so maybe he'll stop besmirchin' my sister in public."

"There was only one besmirch!"

"It was enough for me," she told him.

"And how was I to know you were having sex with him?" The Doctor demanded. "It's not like you put a tie on the door or something. Oh, no, you left it wide open."

"It – was – shut."

"It wasn't locked though, was it?"

"You're supposed to knock before you enter a room."

"There was a nuclear weapon in play!"

"As you can see," Zoe said to an entertained Jack and Mickey as the Doctor and Rose descended into another argument with arms flailing in expansive gestures to get their points across and multiple rolling of eyes. "We've had a few adventures of our own. I've got lunch ready if you're hungry. Despite what these two are doing right now, we do actually want to hear all about your holiday."

The Doctor covered Rose's mouth with his hand, her eyes flaring wide in anger. "And I want to get check in the medical bay as soon as possible, make sure everything's hunky-dory and all, and will you please stop licking my hand!"

Zoe's nose wrinkled. "Yeah, you might want to stop licking it. We were doing stuff earlier and I'm not sure he's had a chance to wash them."

Rose pushed his hand away with a cry of disgust, spitting onto the ground.

"She's joking," the Doctor said, swiftly. "I've washed my hands, of course I have."

Jack leaned into Mickey, looping an arm around his waist, and laughed.

It was good to be home.