Jack's breath hissed between his teeth. He and Vico were both probably out of sight from the steps, but Nathalie would be skewered any minute by the beam as it scanned the water margin and quartered the bank above. In the resulting hoo-ha Jack and the others would probably be caught too. The Red must be blind to anything outside the torch beam, Jack reasoned as he pulled out his gun and moved to get a clear shot—

Nathalie leapt up the bank and out of the shadows, something glinting in her hand in the torchlight. There was a muffled cry and the sounds of a scuffle, a return to darkness as the torch was dropped, then the sharp report of a gun firing. Jack panted up the steps just as the limp body of the Redshirt went sliding down the bank and into the dark waters of the river. Nathalie came pelting helplessly down after it and cannoned into him, swearing under her breath.

"Where's Vico?" she asked urgently.

"Ran for it," Jack replied, his ears stretched for the sound of more Redshirts. The steps led to a small jetty with three boats moored to it. Red patrol or private taxis, Jack didn't care. He tugged Nathalie down the steps and into the nearest boat. She was shaking with cold or reaction, but she saw at once what was needed and began hacking at the nylon mooring rope with her knife. Jack thought he saw blood on the blade, but if it had been there, it was quickly washed off in the water, and he couldn't make sure. He shoved off violently with the boathook, and then poled them out to the dark centre of the river where an island hid them from Government House.

"You hear anything?" Jack asked, sitting down and letting the current carry the boat. "Hopefully they should have something else to worry about in a minute or two. Sit back and enjoy your romantic boat trip."

Nathalie giggled, rather more quietly than the chattering of her teeth.

"Come here and let me warm you up," Jack offered, the relief of their escape surging in his blood and brain. He was keen to forget what they'd just done, in flippancy or anything else offered. "The Reds will track us by the sound of your teeth."

Nathalie giggled again and, to his gratification, climbed onto his lap. She sat, shivering and unresponsive to his hands, as the boat swung slowly in the drift. "I do hope…" she muttered. Jack's hand in its wanderings suddenly found her upper arm warm and wet instead of cold and wet.

"Nat, I think you're bleeding."

She touched the spot. "It must have happened when the gun went off. I didn't even notice at the time."

Jack started to tear pieces off his shirt to bandage her arm. "No, I imagine you were a bit preoccupied."

"I've never killed anyone myself before," she said, shivering again.

"She would have killed you, and worse," Jack said, offering this for what it was worth. Not enough, but in his opinion Nat should have thought of this before she had gone off planting bombs. "Hold still."

The boat's slow drift had carried them from behind the island, and Jack could see the glitter from the posh areas where curfew wasn't enforced, and the bulk of Government House with its tower still blazing into the night. There was enough light to make a reasonable job of the bandage. Nathalie's eyes were firmly fixed upriver, and when he let go her arm, she squinted at her watch.

Boom. There was a distant rumble, a series of explosions, and Jack thought he saw the façade of Government House crumple, and those arrogant lights enveloped in a cloud of dust, but then the boat rocked so violently that he had his hands full to keep them both aboard it. When he could look up again the flames were shooting skywards, filling the horizon with bloody light. Nathalie's face, lit in the red glare, wore that expression of fierce joy he had only seen when she was with Vico.

"We did it!" she screeched, and flung her arms around his neck. The ensuing kiss, and accompaniments, lasted for quite some time. Jack groaned in frustration as Nathalie pulled away at last.

"Well," he said, waving an arm to indicate the racket upriver, "I think we could risk the engine now."

The streets were empty of Redshirts as Jack and Nathalie made their way to his ship. Not without ulterior motive on his part, although it was much nearer than Vico's HQ. The streets were filled with civilians, apparently not caring that they were breaking curfew. They all must have heard the explosion or rumours of it. Reactions seemed to be mixed, to Jack's eyes.

The interior lights of Jack's ship seemed overly bright as he and Nathalie entered it. He looked at her, dripping river water and blood and other unspeakable things on to the pristine deck.

"You need to get that arm cleaned up. I'll bet you haven't had your shots, have you? And I'm longing for a shower."

The previous owners of the ship had thoughtfully provided it with a state-of-the-art medical bay. Jack had found it useful more often than he liked to admit. When Nathalie reappeared after her shower, he was able to give her a full scan.

"Huh," he said, looking at the readouts. "Nasty case of incipient Perlemain's flu you have there, so it says. I'll get you a shot for that. And a coupla vitamin deficiencies. You need to go out in the sun and eat more red meat."

Nathalie threw back her head and laughed, a nice clear laugh without giggles. "Perhaps it will be easier to go out in the light now," she said, sobering.

"Why?" Jack asked. "Hold out your arm."

"Did you see those lights high up in the West Tower? Ow!"

"What about it?"

Nathalie hugged her knees, pressing her face against them, grinning. "That's where the Military Council hold their late-night meetings. Very cloak-and-dagger. Vico hoped to be lucky enough to get them too, but it was a great secret. Hardly any of us knew. And now we've done it!"
Pillow talk, Jack thought. "Well, either them or some helpless cleaner," he said, unwilling to bring her to earth, but feeling compelled to, somehow. He didn't like the unqualified glee on Nathalie's face.

"Stupid, Government House is—was—all cleaned by machines, for fear of spies." She chuckled. "They should have remembered the sewers. It's where most of them belong, after all."

"You're a scary woman, sometimes, Nat."

"Was that a compliment?"

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Do you want it to be?"

"Perhaps," Nathalie said, with a tilt to her head that was definitely flirtatious. Jack leaned over and kissed her again, and this time she didn't pull away.

The HQ had an air of morning-after-the-night-before. A sour organic smell now overlaid its general dankness, and a couple of hung-over bodies were sprawled in the kitchen. Jack decided that he preferred his own method of celebration.

Vico and a few of his lieutenants, looking rather seedy, were watching a news broadcast with the sound turned low. The bombing was, naturally, the headline story.

"Full of fatuous propaganda, of course," Vico said to Nathalie as she sat down beside his chair. "The Reds are out in full force, was the implication."

"Too right," she returned. "We were almost caught three times on the way here."

"Was that counting the one on the riverbank, or not? How did you get out of that one, anyway?"

"I jumped the Red and threw her in the river," Nathalie said hardily. From the angle Vico was to her, he couldn't see, as Jack could, how her fists clenched till the knuckles were white.

"Good for you. I thought you were a goner that time. It was worth your using the message system to know you were okay."

Nathalie gave a rather uncertain smile and settled against Vico's chair to watch the news broadcast. Jack thought that now was the best time to ask for his belongings back. Vico made no objections, and returned the guns and the sensor array immediately. He was pleasant all round that morning, and Jack was prevailed upon, largely by Nathalie, to stay in the celebration and congratulation, rather than returning to his ship. He had long ago decided to leave as soon as he was able to put the ship back in order, but there was no harm in waiting until the first flurry of suspicion had died away a little. Not that he oughtn't to be safe enough, as there had been no hostile witnesses of his presence the night before, but to go back now would only be asking for more trouble with the Redshirts.

He was beginning to regret this, towards evening; he had had no chance to be alone with Nathalie, and the friendliness of everyone else was wearing off. As the time approached the hour, they were preparing to watch the same news broadcast again, with no signs of boredom. Perhaps Vico would organise a court-martial for yawning, Jack thought idly.

The same anxious-looking, dishevelled newscaster appeared on the screen. Jack paid it no attention until someone exclaimed, "Turn it up! This is different!"

"…already cruelly attacked, now faces a new and even more terrible threat. An invading army—"

The image cut to a new scene: an ordinary street filed with dozens of humanoid figures, their silvery faces flat with an inchoate eyes and mouth, like a child's drawing, mere gestures towards facial features. The newscaster's voice was drowned in the cries of horror and surprise from everyone in the room. Jack stared at the screen, his mouth slightly open. Cybermen! He'd thought them half-legendary, a story to frighten children into nightmares, as unreal as Daleks. It began to enter his consciousness, like a chilly little wind, that everything he'd heard about them could well be true.

HQ was nearer to whole-scale anarchy than at any time Jack had seen it. The "fight" and "flight" camps almost came to blows at one point. Nathalie was, not surprisingly, for fighting, but she called truce tersely and disappeared into Vico's room. No-one knew much about the Cybermen, not even the newscasters and commentators. Apparently they hadn't been heard of on Earth for a long while. Vico's most obvious reaction seemed to be resentment of the Cybermen for muscling on his coup. He forbade anyone to leave HQ and closeted himself with his lieutenants.

Jack could never be bothered with elaborate plans; he preferred prompt action. Sneaking out in the early hours, he thought that he had succeeded undetected, but Nathalie had evidently been on the alert and had followed him out. The streets were empty of both citizens and Redshirts, and it was impossible for Jack to give her the slip, or to pretend that he hadn't seen her. He stopped and waited for her to catch up with him.

"So you're just leaving, then?" were the first, indignant, words out of her mouth.

"So would you be, if you had the sense you were born with," Jack retorted. "Didn't you watch the newscast? Earth is being invaded by extremely hostile aliens. They'll be in this city next. I'm not planning on sitting twiddling my thumbs till they get here, whatever Vico's going to do."

"We shall fight, of course! Oh, please, Jack—"

"Nothing you say is going to persuade me to stick around and get shot at."

They walked rapidly through the deserted streets, neither of them budging an inch in the dispute. Jack thought that Nathalie would leave when they reached his ship, but she pulled out a gun and sat down with her back to him, scanning the street. This silent treatment Jack found to be more guilt-inducing than argument. He couldn't simply leave her vicinity either, because he had to reattach the sensor array to the ship's hull.

"You should come with me," he told her eventually. "I like you too much to let you to be killed by Cybermen."

"Oh, thanks," she snorted.

"I could take you anywhere, any time you want," he offered. "It's not like you had to stay with me."

Nathalie stamped one foot. "Here is where I want to be! Can't you understand that? This is my place and I shan't let it go, to Reds or anybody!"

"You don't know what you're talking about, Nat!"

Jack went back to his work, exasperated. He was aware of Nathalie in the periphery of his vision, her back very straight and her head high. I don't see what she's so affronted about, he thought. It's not like I wasn't leaving anyway.

A patrol of Reds came around the corner suddenly. Jack spun around and was just in time to stop Nathalie from shooting over their heads. This action was evidently taken as that of a law-abiding citizen in trying circumstances.

"You two should get out of here," the leader said—dark and thin and interesting-looking rather than handsome.

"Can't," Jack said concisely, wondering how to explain the spaceship they didn't seem to have noticed up the alleyway.

"We can get you transport if you come with us," the Red replied.

"No," Nathalie said flatly.

"Most people are glad of it," the Redshirt said. "You do know the aliens are actually in the city, don't you?"

They hadn't, but Nathalie said brazenly, "Where's there to run to?"

"You'd need to get a lot farther than your transport would take you," Jack amplified. "My name's Jack Harkness, by the way. What's yours?"

"Amil Penn, but—look, you can't stay here."

"Yes we can," Nathalie said violently. Jack said nothing. There was a crackle from one of the Redshirts' communicators. The resulting conversation was too full of jargon for Jack to understand it, despite his Agency training. Then the Red turned to Penn: "Sir, they're in Thanaren now."

That was where Vico's HQ was. Nathalie made a small wounded sound and started forward, but Jack stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Well, that just about puts the lid on it," Penn was saying. "We'd better—"

"I should never have come here—I have to get home—let go of me, Jack!"

"Excuse me, miss, but you'll never get into Thanaren," Penn said. "It's too much cut off."

"Oh, I can!" Nathalie exclaimed.

"Nat," Jack said, in case she went on to explain how.

"Well, so long," Penn said. "I shouldn't go near Thanaren, if I were you. Nor do I want to find you here later. Good luck!"

"Good luck to you," Jack returned, and watched the Reds as they moved off down the street. Nathalie pulled away from him and ran in the opposite direction.

"Nathalie, wait! Hang on a minute!"

Her running didn't last long, and he caught up with her as she trudged along the street, head down.

"Last night I'd have been afraid of the Reds," she said. "Funny, isn't it? What was the point of it all?"

"I often wonder that myself."

"The very day after! You'd think they'd done it on purpose to mock us." She lifted her head; there were tears dripping from her chin. "We were going to fix it. We could have made it so much better!"

"It does get better eventually. I was born into a good time." Jack didn't tell her how many centuries separated their births. "No-one grabbing all the good stuff and clamping down on everyone else."

"How do we get rid of the what's-its, then?"

"Cybermen." Jack had been half-consciously trawling for submerged memories since he'd seen the newscast, but he couldn't even remember the Cybermen invading Earth as late as this. Perhaps they'd discovered time-travel. Oh, joy.

"Gold," he offered. "They're allergic to it or something, you can use that to fight them."

Nathalie gave a short laugh. "Where do you expect us to get gold from? The national stocks are under government control."

"Nat, you blew up the government."

"Still. You cut off the head and the body goes flapping about like a chicken. We should have waited and let the Reds and the Cybermen wipe each other out."

"It doesn't work like that. Innocent people would have died just as much the other way. I don't see the Military Council sticking their necks out to protect them."

"No. But I can't help wondering what would have happened if we hadn't done what we did last night."

"Nathalie, look here. Are you completely certain that you don't want to get out of here?"

She stopped and turned to face him. Jack watched the conflict that showed on her face, guessing which way she would choose and wishing that she wouldn't.

"No, I can't, I can't just go off and leave Vico and everyone!"

She swung around, and Jack watched her little indomitable figure trudge the length of the street. It stirred him so deeply that he called out, "Nat!"

"What?"

"I'll take you to Thanaren in my ship. It's got to be safer than walking. Hurry up."

The Cybermen were on the west side of Thanaren. Near HQ they found Philo, one of Vico's inner circle.

"We're fighting side by side with the Reds over there. Damn' ironic, isn't it?" he said to Jack when he arrived.

Ironic, Jack thought, was the word Nathalie had been groping towards earlier. He told Philo about using gold as a weapon.

"If another person says that, I might start to believe it. Oh, d'you know that Vico's copped it?"

Nathalie, who had been stripping weapons a few yards away, went very still. "When, Philo? Where?"

Jack didn't really listen to the following narrative, which involved Reds and a mysterious blue box and the Cybermen being beaten down between the university and the river. He was too busy wondering what Nathalie was going to do when she looked at him again.

She took him aside, her grip on his arm strong enough to bruise. "Jack, your ship, that's your time ship?"

"Yes. But, Nat, no can do. You'd be crossing your own time line really close to where you are now. It's too risky. And if you saved his life, that could really screw things up. The last thing we need here is a time rip."

"Please."

"Nathalie, I really can't. It could mess things up worse than the Military Council and the Cybermen put together."

Her face went grim. "It's not usual of you to be so altruistic. I think you're scared for your own skin."

"And that, too, of course."

Nathalie snapped the gun she was holding back together. "In that case, you can get out of here. I don't want to see your face again."

She picked up a magazine and pushed it into place. Jack wondered if it was intended for him, but she tucked the gun into her belt and walked over to Philo. The last Jack saw of her was as she bent over the map that was spread out on the ground, her clear voice ordering where the squads should go. Well, he'd had his dismissal. He'd try the 102nd century. Time for some fun, for a change. Take his mind off all this.

Eleven years later

The Doctor had found a rather nice little restaurant, and spent the meal telling Rose about the Cybermen's invasion.

"—and they had been having a revolution of some sort at the same time, you can imagine the confusion—"

Jack, listening to something he knew too much of, raised his eyes to a pair of workmen sticking up posters outside. They showed a good-looking woman of about thirty. She'd changed, but Jack would have recognised her anywhere. The writing beneath said: Vote Nathalie Takoska for the Liberals, the People's Choice. Jack gave a sudden swift grin.

"—really, the lot they had had in charge weren't much better than the Cybermen, and once the soldiers and uncle Tom Cobbley and all had started fighting together, the more sensible ones realised that there are worse things than people who don't agree with you—"

"Like aliens who shoot your heads off when they don't agree with you?" Rose asked.

"Exactly. I don't think they've made out too badly, all things considered."

No, Jack thought. He raised his glass silently. Good luck with the election, Nat.