Chapter 11: Frying Pan Meet Fire

Wonderful. No - this situation called for the use of the previous incarnation of the Doctor's favourite word - fantastic. Not only did he have the sudden shock of realising that the Time Lord still wanted him to travel with them, he also had the wonderful news that London had found them. In a perfect world, he'd still be gaping at the Doctor, stunned.

Then again, he'd never deluded himself that life in any of its shapes or forms was perfect. It was hard. It was gritty. It was tough. And, most of the time, it wouldn't give him a break.

He forced all thoughts of the future out of his mind. Once everyone was safe, and the TARDIS was in one functional piece, he could think about it. For now his priority was to protect his charges. The future could wait.

According to Gwen, Torchwood was on its way, complete with shock troops. The idea that they thought they'd need such firepower was both flattering and disturbing. Flattering in that they thought that much of the Doctor's defensive capabilities and disturbing in that they were willing to use that much force here in suburban Cardiff.

Which meant they had to plan. There wasn't a lot of time left to them, Gwen had only been able to warn him they were coming after they'd already left. She'd suspected that they might be keeping an eye on her, so she couldn't be long. She gave him an ETA, about how many personnel to expect, mentioned that he was wanted for questioning, and the biggest warning of them all.

Yvonne Hartmann was coming, too.

Yup. The word 'fantastic' didn't even begin to cover it. So, first things first. "How much time do we have before the TARDIS'll be ready to fly?"

The Doctor frowned, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows. He wouldn't admit it to any other than himself, but he found the expression rather endearing. He also started to wonder what the Time Lord's lips would taste like. Like Rose's? Or something alien?

Concentrate, he snapped to himself.

"She's rebuilding herself from the inside out. Her interior dimensions were scrambled from the force of our arrival." For some inexplicable reason, the Doctor reached over and squeezed Rose's hand, almost as if in apology or sympathy. "Forty-eight hours was a guess. At best, we can try again in at least another hour, maybe two."

He bit his lower lip. As expected, the news wasn't good. Story of his life. "Torchwood's bringing in their shock troops. And, even worse, Yvonne Hartmann is coming with them. She's the director of the London office and, by default, of all Torchwood. We're going to have to hold out against them until the TARDIS is ready for travel and then you-"

"We," the Doctor corrected, giving him an intent stare.

"-we," he acknowledged. But that was straying dangerously close to a consideration of the future. What mattered was now. Right now. Right here. And Torchwood was coming. "We can get the hell out of here."

"How much time do we have before they get here?"

"Not long enough," he replied, shaking his head. "So, time for the assets discussion." Another case for déjà vu. The last time they'd had that particular talk, the Time Lord had been doing his best U-boat captain impression. He fiercely suppressed the pang of nostalgia.

The other man frowned and reached into his pocket, fishing through what items were buried inside it. Before he could pull anything out, he couldn't resist the urge. "Is that a banana in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

He was stunned as a slow smile crossed the Doctor's face as he answered enigmatically, "Yes."

He caught himself watching the Time Lord hungrily. Now wasn't the time. He forced himself to focus upon his task. "I have a sonic blaster, wrist comm, a conventional weapon, and some psychic paper."

Rose shrugged, holding out her hands. Right. Nothing there.

The Doctor started pulling a mixture of objects from his pockets, dumping them on Rose's lap. "A string, a ball of wool, a yo-yo… Oh! A first edition of Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland, I'd wondered what had happened to that. A banana, sonic screwdriver, an assortment of change, a slingshot, and a washer. No, wait, make that two washers."

All of which meant they didn't have much of anything. He missed his old Chula warship. "Well, there went the assets discussion."

"Oh, we have even more powerful weapons than you can imagine, Jack," the Doctor said with a wide grin as he tapped the side of his head. "Intelligence. We can think our way out of this one. Simple. Easy. Either that or prattle our way out of it. When in doubt, prattle them into confusion."

Rose laughed, shaking her head. "Don't you mean prattle them into a coma?"

The Time Lord shot her a wounded look. He fought the urge to cradle his head between his hands.

No assets beyond intelligence. Right. "Knowing Torchwood's standard operations, they'll first surround the house to cover all exits. They might start by knocking on the door, playing nice with the locals. But they might not. Yvonne's not known for her favourable handling of civilians who get in her way."

"So how can we stop them?" Rose asked.

He smiled grimly. "We can't. We just have to delay them long enough for the TARDIS to be healed. Problem is we'll have problems keeping the ship and ourselves safe. The TARDIS is in the shed outside. While it's not visible, it's easy to get to – for both us and Torchwood. We don't want them to get their hands on it."

"Can we, I dunno, hide it somehow? Cover it in blankets or something?"

He shook his head. "They know the basic shape of the TARDIS. Covering it with a blanket wouldn't work for very long. Our best choice is a distraction. I can handle that." He grinned, patting his sonic blaster. "All I have to do is lead them on a merry chase through Cardiff. Give you the time you need to get into the ship and get out of here."

He was startled by the intensity of the Doctor's reaction. "And you'd get yourself caught and locked up by that woman you're so bothered over in the process. Or worse, you'd get yourself killed. And that'd be dead dead this time. No miraculous resurrection. No second chances. Well, my answer is no. I already lost you once, Jack Harkness. I'm not losing you again."

Amazement rushed through him as he stared, flabbergasted, at the Time Lord. Impossible. That was impossible. He'd thought... No. He'd been wrong, hadn't he?
"Then what do you suggest?" he asked, thankful that his voice didn't falter.

The Doctor grinned. "We improvise."

He wished that he could spend more time trying to convince Jack that he was telling him the truth. More time convincing him that he meant every word that he'd said. Come back. I don't want to lose you again. Please, Jack. I lo... They were words that he'd never said. Not to Jack. Not to Rose.

Time, however, was running out. He could feel the seconds slip into minutes, each tick of the old grandfather clock bringing Torchwood that much closer. Which meant it was time to improvise. Assets weren't just physical objects, they were mental ones as well. He'd just have to out-think the human agents of Torchwood. That was easy. Simple. He was a Time Lord. They didn't have a chance.

Except for the small matter of ruthlessness. He had no illusions that Torchwood wouldn't resort to measures he'd balk at. Threaten the life of an innocent, for example.

So, improvisation. He shouldn't boast, but he was brilliant at improvising in the face of impossible odds. He'd always been the sort of man that liked doing at least six impossible things before breakfast – well, he amended as he glanced at the clock, before dinner. And this was just that type of situation.

Impossible was just a word, after all. A single, simple, tiny word. It meant so much, yet so little. He could face the impossible and change it. Alter it. Impossible, to him, was just improbable with a few added and subtracted letters.

"What're you thinking of improvising?" Rose asked.

"I'll tell you once I think of it. The best improvisations are done at the last minute as you well know," he replied. He grinned madly at her and she merely rolled her eyes in response.

He was about to continue, but Evelyn's return interrupted him. "Doctor, mind telling me why you're holding a council of war without me? And don't bother to tell me otherwise because I know you. Especially when it comes to your particular talents – or lack thereof – of improvisation. Remember the Adventurer's Fancy?" She paused in the doorway, looking at him with one of her disapproving looks that she normally reserved for her students and for him. In her arms, she carried a basket full of bandages and antiseptics.

He winced, not just from her words but from the reminder that the kit provided. He'd almost forgotten about his shoulder – if he didn't move it overly much, it was a dull ache he could easily ignore. And, as for the Adventurer's Fancy, she would bring that up again. First it was to remind him of his singing and now it was accusations of an inability to improvise. "Evelyn, Torchwood's found us. I'd like you to..."

"Get out of the way? Find a nice, safe spot to hide away in until they've come and gone? I'll do nothing of the sort. You'll need me," Evelyn replied, shaking her head as she came to his side and began to pull out what she needed from the basket. "When they come, I'll answer the door and send them on their way again. Simple as that."

"These aren't nice people. They won't let anyone stand in their way, especially when it comes to the Doctor," Jack cautioned. He could tell that the other man was worried. Very worried. Especially about the upcoming arrival of Yvonne Hartmann.

And, he admitted to none other than himself, he was worried too. But, where there was life, there was hope. Or however that went.

She drew herself to her full height – though the effect was somewhat hampered by her battered orange cardigan and the unrolled bandage in her hand. "Then they'll suffer me to stand in their way. They sound like typical university students and I've had years to learn how to properly handle them."

"Evelyn, please," he cajoled, hoping that she'd listen to him. "I don't want you to get hurt."

She stood her ground, wrapping the bandage around his shoulder and pulling it tight enough to cause him to wince. "I'm going to help." She then began to put the bandages away.

Jack seemed to recognise that Evelyn could be rather stubborn. "You can," the former Time Agent said, standing. "Tell me about the entrances to this house. Just the two? Front and back? Any bushes, or..." The other man escorted Evelyn out of the room, still firing rapid-shot questions at her until their voices faded into a murmur.

"I like her," Rose said as she leaned against him. He savoured the contact, wrapping his uninjured arm securely around her. For the moment, despite the knowledge that Torchwood was coming and that, inevitably, they'd be in more danger than before, he was glad for the temporary reprieve.

"Me too," he replied and they sat in companionable silence.

The silence was broken as Rose spoke softly. "Doctor, I wanted to thank you. For earlier. For helpin' me take control of the Bad Wolf."

He smiled, pulling her tighter against him. "You don't have to thank me. It was all you. You took control and you freed yourself. I was just there to watch." He shook his head as he amended, "Well, when I wasn't unconscious."

"Couldn't've done it without you," Rose denied, lifting her head to look him in the eye. He found himself distracted by her expression, her lips, her nearness.

It'd take only a thought to close the distance between them. Only a second. Only the merest few centimetres separated them. He could kiss her, he realised. It'd just take a thought...

Her eyes were sliding shut as she tilted her head further, almost as if she could read his mind. He blinked and tried to regain his composure, but failed utterly. He started to duck his head and the doorbell rang.

She bit back a curse or, rather, several dozen. She'd been so certain, almost positive, that the Doctor had been about to kiss her. Instead, once the doorbell rang, he pulled away from her and stood, looking down at her with an unfathomable look in his eyes. "Stay here," he told her and headed for the door.

Like she'd stay anywhere without him, let alone when he might be putting himself in danger. She darted after him, pausing when he turned to gaze at her. She could see resignation in his expression. Good. He knew she'd follow him whatever happened.

The Doctor opened the door and stood in the doorway, blocking the interior from whoever was outside. "Hello?"

"Oh, this must be my lucky day!" a woman replied, laughter colouring her words. "I thought you'd put up a fight, Doctor. But, instead, you come straight to the door. Lovely, really, just lovely."

She could tell that he was taken aback by the woman's familiar tone. "I thought it best we talk face to face, de hombre a hombre. No, wait, that implies that you're a man. Which you aren't. At least, I assume you're not. Are you?"

"Your sense of humour does you credit. My name's Director Yvonne Hartmann, Torchwood. And you should have someone with you. A companion. Generally female, young, and clever. Tell me, Doctor, where is she?" the woman asked.

"She's not here," he replied tightly.

"That's where you're lying. I've seen the photographs from Millennium Centre. You were in the company of a blonde-haired girl. Where is she?" Yvonne asked again and something in her tone sent chills down her spine. Though she kept her voice level, there was something almost fanatical about her.

The Doctor motioned with his hand for her to keep back, keep hidden. She glanced around the narrow hallway, finally deciding to duck behind a heavy-looking wooden chest. It didn't offer much cover, but it was close enough for her to help the Doctor should he need it. And, knowing him, he would.

"I already told you, Director. She's not here."

Yvonne laughed. "I'm disappointed, Doctor. We could've been friends. But you're still lying to me." There was a rustling sound behind her as someone else came to the door. "Steve, take a couple of agents with you and search the grounds. It is Steve, right?"

"Yes, yes it is ma'am," a startled voice replied.

"Good. Now find my prize. And do tell Sean to search the house. He can go around back."

"Yes, Director," the newly identified Steve said and footsteps indicated his departure.

"You can't enter this house! It's private property, Director Hartmann. I do hope you have a warrant," the Doctor scolded, shifting his stance.

"I don't need a warrant. We have broad powers granted to us by the Queen. You have no say in this. You are under arrest for high treason against the crown. Anyone who was with you, anyone who helped you – and this includes your wayward companion and Jack Harkness – will be placed under arrest as well. There is no possibility of parole. You are a dangerous alien element. And now, Doctor, you belong to us."

"I don't belong to anyone other than myself! And if I don't agree to come with you?" the Doctor asked.

She leaned forward, straining her senses to hear Yvonne's reply. She heard the creak of the floorboards behind her, but she dismissed it as Jack. At least until she felt the arm wrap around her neck and yank her to her feet, cutting off her shout with a choking grip.

"Oh, that's simple," Yvonne said. "Your friends will suffer for it. Starting with your companion."

To be continued...