A/N: Sorry this took so long, but I've gotten back into my groove now and am experimenting with longer chapters. Enjoy!


"You've been to the past, how do you fancy the future?" the Doctor asked Martha, with a glint in his eye.

"No complaints from me!" Martha replied, from where she was perched on the jump seat, next to Ryan.

"How about… a different planet?" the Doctor proposed, grinning conspiratorially.

"Can we go to yours?"

Unbeknown to Martha, those five simple - seemingly innocent - words, were enough to crumble the jovial atmosphere. Ryan glanced at the Doctor and saw his face fall. They made eye contact briefly, before the Doctor swiftly broke it, moving around the console to flip another lever.

Ryan was torn. He could tell Martha to stop asking about Gallifrey and save the Doctor from reliving too many painful memories, but the young medical student was curious and would want to know why. But it wasn't Ryan's story to tell, and he didn't want to force the Doctor into a corner.

He couldn't do that, though. Those memories, that pain, was the Doctor's, not his. He didn't have the right to assume what the Doctor did or didn't want. No one does, for anyone. But he knew the Doctor. That man could dodge and deflect unwanted questions like a dodgeball player on a world championship-winning team.

So Ryan decided to let the scene play out in front of him. If the Doctor wanted a hand to hold, Ryan would be there in a heartbeat.

"Aah, there's plenty of other places," the Doctor replied, his face down. Deflection.

Martha jumped off the seat and followed the Doctor to the other side of the console. "Aw, come on, though. I mean, planet of the Time Lords, that's gotta be worth a look. What's it like?"

"Well, it's beautiful, yeah." Vagueness.

"Is it like, you know, outer space cities, all spires and stuff?" Martha asked, her eyes shining in wonder.

"Suppose it is." His face fell fractionally, unnoticeable unless you were watching him very closely.

"Great big temples and cathedrals?" Martha continued, grinning.

"Yeah." Ryan didn't miss the slight wobble in the Doctor's reply. He pushed himself off the jump seat and walked over to the Doctor's other side - nonchalant as he could – and discreetly wrapped his hand around the Doctor's elbow. The Doctor acknowledged him with a slight upward quirk of the corner of his mouth.

"Lots of planets in the sky?" asked Martha insistently, leaning against the console.

The Doctor's hands stilled over the controls. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, before looking up again, towards Martha.

"The sky's a burnt orange… with the Citadel enclosed in a mighty glass dome, shining under the twin suns," the Doctor began, a shade above a whisper. Ryan watched him in awe – he had heard the Doctor describe his home planet before, and he was always captivated by the serenity in the Doctor's voice. "Beyond that, the mountains go on forever, slopes of deep red grass, capped with snow…" the Doctor trailed off, pausing for a couple of seconds before busying himself with the controls again, the moment gone.

"Can we go there?" Martha pushed.

The Doctor's head snapped up. "Nah, where's the fun for me? I don't wanna go home! Instead…" He turned to Ryan. "How about New Earth?"

Ryan smiled. "Yeah, seeing as we didn't see all that much last time."

Martha frowned. "You've been there before?"

"Yeah we have, about a year ago, but we didn't see much. Just a hillside and a hospital. But it was very space-age – you'll love it!" he reassured her.

"Alright then!" the Doctor announced. "The year five billion and fifty-three, planet New Earth!" He threw the TARDIS into gear, and they shook violently for a few seconds before landing. "The second home of mankind, fifty thousand light years from your old world, and we're slap bang on the middle New New York," he continued as he grabbed his trench coat off a coral pillar and slipped into it.

"But it's the fifteenth New York since the original," Ryan added as he strolled over to the ramp.

"Which makes it New New New New New New New New New New New New New New New York, one of the most dazzling cities ever built." The Doctor opened the TARDIS doors, and let Martha take the first step out.

"Oh, that's nice," Martha exclaimed sarcastically. "Time Lord version of dazzling."

Ryan and the Doctor followed after, and Ryan immediately understood what she meant. It was pouring down with rain, and his denim jacket was nearly instantly soaked. The Doctor pulled an arrow off the TARDIS and locked the door.

"Wish I'd put on my raincoat," Ryan mumbled, pulling his jacket tighter around him.

"Nah, bit of rain never hurt anyone," the Doctor replied with his usual chirpiness. "Come on, let's get undercover!"

The Doctor grabbed Ryan's hand and the trio ran down the narrow, dingey alleyway. The alleyway soon opened up into a gritty, more open, area. Buildings constructed out of dirty bricks towered over them, making the area still feel claustrophobic, despite the extra breathing room. The torn and tattered remains of a market stall stood in the corner, a ghost of a livelier past.

"Well, it looks like the same old Earth to me," Martha grumbled. "On a Wednesday afternoon."

The Doctor spotted a terminal and tugged Ryan over to it. "Hold on, hold on, let's have a look." They huddled under the small awning, and the Doctor dropped Ryan's hand to fish out his sonic, to use on the terminal. He rapped the screen with his knuckles a few times, and an image flickered onto the screen.

"And the driving should be clear and easy, with fifteen extra lanes open for the New New Jersey Expressway," a newsreader told them, and the image changed again.

"That's more like it, that's the view we had last time!" the Doctor exclaimed, tapping the screen, which was displaying the view they had of the city, from near the hospital. Ryan remembered that part of their previous trip most fondly; laid out on the Doctor's long coat, the delicate scent of apple grass, and light conversation about chips and first dates. The rest of the day… well. That just bounced between headaches, embarrassment, frustration, and downright mortification.

"So where are we, then?" Ryan asked.

"Must be the lower levels," the Doctor replied. He ducked out from under the awning, and looked up at the buildings around them. "We're down at the base of the tower, some sort of undercity."

"You've brought us to the slums?" Martha questioned, sounding very unimpressed.

"Much more interesting! It's all cocktails and glitter up there. This is the real city."

"You'd enjoy anything!"

"That's us!" the Doctor grinned, taking hold of Ryan's hand again. "Ah, the rain's stopped. Better and better!"

They walked back into the open, looking around, unsure of where to go next. All of a sudden, hatches flew open all around them, revealing the pushy salespeople behind them.

"Oh, you should've said. How long have you been there?" a man exclaimed. "Happy, you want Happy? Happy, Happy!"

They heard another voice from behind them. "Customers, customers! We've got customers!"

"- We're in business! Mother, open up the Mellow!"

"- Happy Happy, lovely Happy Happy!"

"- Anger! Buy some Anger!"

"- Mellow, makes you feel bendy and soft all day long!"

"- Don't go to them, they'll rip you off! Do you want some Happy?"

"No thanks," the Doctor replied, darkly.

"Are they selling drugs?" Martha asked.

"I think they're selling moods."

"Suppose that's the same thing at the end of the day," Ryan murmured.

Another person appeared from a different alleyway, a young woman with a black shawl other her head. She immediately caught the attention of the salespeople, who now had another potential customer to pitch their wares to.

The woman approached one of the salespeople.

"What can you get you, my love?" the saleswoman asked in a soft Scottish accent.

"I want to buy Forget."

"I've got Forget, my darling, what strength? How much do you want forgetting?"

"My mother and father went on the motorway," the woman said, mournfully. Ryan frowned – what was so bad about a motorway? The Doctor caught his eye, and they wandered closer to the exchange.

"Oh, that's a swine… try this, Forget 43, that's two credits." The saleswoman handed over a small, transparent patch in exchange for a couple of coins.

Ryan tapped the woman with the shawl on the shoulder. "'Scuse me, sorry, hope you don't mind me asking, but… what happened to your parents?"

The woman turned around. "They drove off," she said, bluntly.

"And you don't think they're gonna come back?"

She shook her head. "Everyone goes to the motorway in the end. I've lost them."

"But they can't have gone far, you could find them," the Doctor interjected.

The woman considered him for a moment, then moved to press the patch to her neck.

"No, no, don't!" the Doctor cried. But it was too late. The mood patch took effect instantly, and a serene look came over the woman's face.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" she asked, her voice lighter.

"Your parents, your mother and father, they're on the motorway," the Doctor tried to remind her.

"Are they?" She smiled sweetly. "That's nice. I'm sorry, I won't keep you." She walked away, back in the direction she had come from.

"Bloody hell…" Ryan muttered as soon as she was out of earshot. He had seen people lose everything to drug abuse, but this just seemed so much worse.

He heard a sudden scream from behind and spun around to see that a man had Martha in a headlock and a woman was pointing a gun at himself and the Doctor.

"I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry. We just need three, that's all," the man tried to explain as they shuffled backwards towards an open door.

"Let go of her!" Ryan shouted, approaching carefully, cautious of the gun.

"I'm warning you, let her go!" the Doctor yelled. He switched to a calmer demeanour. "Whatever you want, I can help, all of us can help you, but first, you've got to let her go!"

"Sorry," the woman said, a final word before the door slammed shut.

The Doctor darted forwards, wrestling with the doorknob, before switching to his sonic screwdriver. He yanked the door open, and sprinted ahead, Ryan hot on his heels. They ran straight through a corridor, bursting out into a wider street, just to see a New Earth car hover up into the air and shoot off down the street.

"Martha!" they both cried.


The Doctor knocked angrily on a one of the salespeople's green, wooden hatches. It was lifted open by the Scottish-sounding woman, who had a beaming smile on her face.

"Thought you'd come back. D'you want some Happy Happy?"

"Those people, who were they?" the Doctor barked. "Where did they take her?"

"They've taken her to the motorway," piped in the first salesman they had met.

"Looked like carjackers to me," said the Scottish woman.

"I'd give up now, darlings, you won't see her again," added another saleswoman.

"Used to be thriving, this place – you couldn't move. But they all go to the motorway in the end."

"He kept on saying three, 'we need three'. What did he mean, three?" the Doctor demanded.

"It's the car-sharing policy, to save fuel. You get special access if you're carrying three adults."

"So how do we get to this motorway?" Ryan asked.

"Straight down the alley, keep going to the end, you cannae miss it." The Doctor and Ryan stalked off in the direction she had nodded towards, but the saleswoman wasn't finished. "Tell you what, buy some Happy Happy, then you'll be smiling, my loves!"

Ryan twisted around. "Fat fucking chance of that, mate. Now, I don't know the whole story, but from what I've seen, you're just exploiting the vulnerable, profiting off their misery and desperation. No way I'm supporting you with that."

The Doctor butted in before anyone could say anything in response. "If you want something from us so badly, here's a word of advice, all of you. Cash up, close down and pack your bags," he snarled.

"Why's that, then?" the Scottish woman asked, bemused.

"Because as soon as we've found her alive and well, and we will find her alive and well, then we're coming back. And this street is closing. Tonight," the Doctor spat out.

They turned and left down the alley towards the motorway. Ryan's anger soon mellowed out, but the Doctor was still seething, his jaw tight and his eyes narrowed.

"Doctor."

The Doctor stopped walking and looked at Ryan expectantly. Ryan took hold of his hands and his features softened.

"It's not your fault." The Doctor opened his mouth to argue, but Ryan beat him to it. "Martha just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And I know it's her first time on an alien planet and all, and I am worried, but she's smart and resourceful. We'll save her – I know we will." The Doctor nodded once in response, but didn't say anything, so Ryan continued. "And we'll sort out that mood patch stuff, and find out what's up with this motorway, and sort that out too, yeah?"

"Yeah…" the Doctor breathed out, giving Ryan's hands a squeeze. Ryan squeezed back, satisfied that the Doctor was calmer, dropping one hand as they continued towards the motorway.


At the end of the alleyway, the Doctor opened a door. They stepped out onto a tiny platform and were overwhelmed by the endless lines of cars and the deafening beeping of uncountable horns. The air was thick with exhaust fumes, and they both nearly immediately started coughing, covering their mouths with their hands.

The door slid open on the car adjacent to them, and a person in old-fashioned flying gear called out at them.

"Hey, you daft little streetstruts, what are you doing, standing there?" the (assumed) man yelled, with an Irish accent. "Either get out or get in! Come on!"

The Doctor placed his hand on Ryan's lower back, pushing him forwards, and they both bounded forwards into the car, and the door slid shut.

"Did you ever see the like?" the man ranted, as a woman offered an oxygen mask, apologising for only having one. The Doctor nodded towards Ryan, unable to speak as he continued to cough. Ryan gratefully took the mask, and forced himself to take deep, slow breaths, feeling the oxygen soothe his burning throat.

"They're just standing there, breathing it in," the man continued. He pulled down his scarf and removed his goggles, revealing that he was Catkind. "There's this story, says back in the old days, on Junction 47, this woman stood in the exhaust fumes for a solid twenty minutes. By the time they found her, her head had swollen to fifty feet."

The woman scoffed as Ryan passed the mask over to the Doctor. "Oh, you're making it up."

"A fifty foot head, just think of it. Imagine picking that nose," the man slash cat joked as he climbed back into his drivers' seat.

"Stop it, that's disgusting!"

"What? Did you never pick your nose?"

The woman swatted his arm. "Bran, we're moving."

"Right, I'm there. I'm on it."

The man slash cat – Bran - took off the handbrake and they drove for barely a few metres before coming to a halt.

"Twenty yards – we're having a good day."

Ryan frowned. Twenty yards was considered to be a good day? At that point, he'd just get out and walk.

Bran faced them. "And who might you be, sirs? You're both very well dressed for hitchhikers."

"Thank you. I'm Ryan and he's the Doctor," Ryan replied, nodding towards the Doctor, who slipped the oxygen mask off.

"Medical man!" the cat exclaimed. "My name's Thomas Kincaid Brannigan, and this is the bane of my life, the lovely Valerie."

"Nice to meet you," Valerie said.

"Likewise," Ryan replied.

"And that's the rest of the family behind you," Brannigan added.

Ryan heard a faint mew as the Doctor drew back a curtain, revealing a litter of kittens.

"Aw, that's nice," the Doctor cooed. Ryan inwardly rolled his eyes. So the Doctor didn't hate cats, but just didn't like it when they were the ones being complimented and not him. Typical.

Still, the kittens were heart meltingly adorable, and Ryan couldn't resist petting them. A little grey kitten nudged his palm, and Ryan scooped it up, holding it close to his chest. The Doctor did the same with a black and white kitten, and they turned back to their fellow passengers.

"How old are they?" the Doctor asked.

"Just two months," Valerie answered, reaching out to stroke the kitten in Ryan's arms.

"Poor little souls, they've never known the ground beneath their paws," Brannigan said. "Children of the motorway."

"What, they were born in here?" the Doctor asked.

Valerie shook her head. "We couldn't stop. We heard there were jobs out in the laundries, on Fire Island, thought we'd take a chance."

"So you've been driving for two months?" Ryan questioned, sharing a look with the Doctor. Neither of them could believe it.

Brannigan chucked. "Do I look like a teenager? We've been driving for twelve years now."

"- I'm sorry?"

"- You what?"

"Yeah, started out as newlyweds. Feels like yesterday," Brannigan casually continued, as if he hadn't dropped a massive bombshell.

"Feels like twelve years to me," Valerie moaned.

Brannigan enthusiastically took her hand. "Ah, sweetheart, but you still love me." Ryan smiled; they were a lovely couple.

"But twelve years!" the Doctor exclaimed. "How far did you come? Where did you start?"

"Battery Park, five miles back," Brannigan answered.

"You've travelled five miles in twelve years!?"

Ryan took a deep breath. That was less than half a mile every year. He couldn't do mental maths to save his life, but he reckoned that couldn't have been much more than a couple of metres on average every day. No wonder twenty yards was considered to be a good day.

"I think they're a bit slow," commented Brannigan.

The Doctor turned away to put his kitten down. "Where are you even from?" Valerie asked Ryan.

"We're just travellers," he replied.

"But we've got to get out," the Doctor interjected. "Our friend's in one of these cars – she was taken hostage. We should get back to the TARDIS."

Hearing the urgency in the Doctor's voice, Ryan could tell that their departure was imminent, so he put his kitten down as the Doctor slid the door open.

"You're too late for that, we've passed the lay-by," Brannigan told them. Defeated, the Doctor slid the door shut again. "You're a passenger now, Sunny Jim."

"When's the next lay-by?" the Doctor demanded.

Brannigan winced. "Ooh, about six months."

Ryan slowly ran his hand up and down on the Doctor's back. "Is there anyone we can ask for help?" he asked calmly. "Like the police or something?"

"There's a terminal in the back," Brannigan told him. "You can try the police."

Ryan shuffled over to the back of the car; the Doctor close behind him. He pressed a few buttons aimlessly, until the NNYPD logo appeared on the screen. He picked up the radio. "Hello? Police?"

"Thank you for your call. You have been placed on hold," a pre-recorded message told him.

The Doctor grumbled behind him, before reaching into his pocket for his sonic screwdriver. After a few seconds of sonicking, Ryan tried again.

"Hi, we need to talk to the police."

"Thank you for your call. You have been placed on hold."

"Fuck's sake," Ryan muttered. "You're the bloody police!"

"Thank you for your call. You have been placed on hold."

The Doctor and Ryan scrambled back to the front of the car. "Is there anyone else? I once met the Duke of Manhattan; is there any way of getting through to him?" the Doctor asked.

"Oh now, ain't you lordly," Brannigan mocked.

"We've gotta find our friend!" the Doctor insisted.

"You can't make outside calls. The motorway's completely enclosed," Valerie said.

"What, so you're completely alone, and can't contact anyone else? At all?" Ryan questioned.

"What about other cars?" the Doctor added.

Brannigan nodded. "Well, we've got contact with them, yeah. Well, some of them, anyway – they've got to be on your friends list." He started tapping a screen next to his controls. "Now, let's see, who's nearby? Ah, the Cassini Sisters!" An image of two elderly women popped up on the screen and he picked up the radio. "Be still your hearts, my handsome girls, it's Brannigan here."

"Get off the line, Brannigan, you're a pest and a menace," an indignant voice replied.

"Come on, now, Sisters, is that any way to talk to an old friend?"

"You know full well we're not sisters, we're married."

"Ooh, stop that modern talk, I'm an old-fashioned cat."

Ryan glared at the back of Brannigan's head, biting his tongue. He'd assumed homophobia wouldn't be a thing five billion years in the future, but he was seemingly mistaken.

"Now," Brannigan continued. "I've got a couple of hitchhikers here…" he trailed off, and glanced over to the Doctor and Ryan behind him, his eyes flicking between them. The Doctor nodded sharply, deciding he would be the one to talk to the Cassinis. Brannigan understood his silent command. "This one calls himself the Doctor." He passed the radio over to the Doctor.

"Hello, sorry, we're looking for someone called Martha Jones; she's been carjacked. She's inside one of these vehicles, but I dunno which one."

"Wait a minute," a different voice came over the radio. "Could I ask, what entrance did they use?"

"Where were we?" the Doctor asked quietly.

"Pharmacy Town," Brannigan answered.

"Pharmacy Town," the Doctor parroted over the radio. "About twenty minutes ago."

"Let's have a look…"

"Just my luck, to marry a car spotter…" They all shared a smile at the quip.

"In the last half hour, fifty-three new cars joined from the Pharmacy Town junction."

"Anything more specific?" the Doctor asked, his patience wearing thin.

"All in good time. Was she carjacked by two people?"

"Yes, she was, yeah."

"There we are. Just one of those cars was destined for the fast lane. That means they had three on board, and the car number is four-six-five-diamond-six."

"That's it!" the Doctor exclaimed. "So how do we find them?"

"Ah now, there, I'm afraid I can't help."

The Doctor lowered the radio. "Can we call them on this thing? We've got their number, diamond-six."

"Well, not if they're designated fast lane, it's a different class," Brannigan told him.

The radio crackled again. "You could try the police."

"They put us on hold," the Doctor replied.

"You'll have to keep trying. There's no one else."

That thought was incredibly sobering, and the Doctor uttered a final thanks, before giving the radio back to Brannigan. Ryan grabbed the Doctor's hand as he lowered it, and rubbed his thumb in an attempt to soothe him.

"Couldn't we just go down to the fast lane?" Ryan asked. "I mean, we've got four adults."

"Not in a million years," Brannigan refused.

"She's alone and she's lost," the Doctor argued in a harsh whisper. "She doesn't even belong on this planet and it's all my fault. I'm asking you, Brannigan, take us down."

Valerie put her foot down. "That's a no, and that's final. I'm not risking the children down there."

"Why? What's wrong?" Ryan asked.

"We're not discussing it. The conversation is closed."

He didn't know what it was, and he didn't know if they even knew what it was, but Ryan could tell that Brannigan and Valerie were terrified of whatever was lurking down in the fast lane.

"So we keep on driving," the Doctor stated aggressively.

"Yes, we do," Brannigan bluntly confirmed.

"For how long?" the Doctor snapped.

"Till the journey's end."

The Doctor grabbed the radio from the dashboard. "Mrs Cassini, this is the Doctor. Tell me, how long have you been driving on the motorway?"

"Oh, we were amongst the first. It's been twenty-three years now."

"But in all that time, have you ever seen a police car?" It fell quiet. Brannigan and Valerie stared at the Doctor in shock.

"I'm… not sure."

"Look at your notes. Any police?"

"Erm, not as such."

"Or an ambulance? Rescue service? Anything official? Ever?"

"I can't keep a note of everything," came Mrs Cassini's indignant reply.

"What if there's no one out there?" the Doctor hypothesised.

Brannigan snatched the radio back from him. "Stop it! The Cassinis were doing you a favour."

The Doctor fixed his intense stare on Brannigan. "Someone's got to ask. 'Cos you might not talk about it, but it's there, in your eyes. What if the traffic jam never stops?"

"Doctor…" Ryan muttered, but it was too late. The only time he could remember him being this angry was when Cassandra had taken control of his body, but he only had very vague and hazy memories of that. He was right to be asking about the motorway, but he didn't need to be potentially unnecessarily fearmongering.

Brannigan sighed and shook his head. "There's a whole city above – the might city state of New New York. They wouldn't just leave us."

"In that case, where are they? Hmm?"

"Doctor! Stop it!" They all stared at Ryan. "We get the point – you're scaring them!" And me, he thought, but left unsaid.

Before the Doctor could say anything, they heard a jingle coming from the dashboard, and the screen changed to the image of the woman they had seen before, in Pharmacy Town.

"This is Sally Calypso, and it's that time again. The sun is blazing high over the New Atlantic, the perfect setting for the daily contemplation."

"You think you know us so well, Doctor," Brannigan said lowly. "We're not abandoned. Not while we have each other."

"This is for all of you out there on the road. We're so sorry. Drive safe."

A hymn started to play, murmuring comparatively ancient lyrics over the air waves. Brannigan and Valerie sang softly, with the rest of the traffic they could faintly hear singing.

Ryan and the Doctor looked at each other. The Doctor's eyes had softened, but the rest of his face was unreadable. Ryan nodded towards the back of the car; he felt like he was invading a private moment – even though it seemed everyone on the motorway was singing, it was their moment of peace.

Having walked a few small paces to the back of the car, Ryan wrapped his arms around the Doctor's waist, pulling him into an embrace. A few seconds later (longer than usual), Ryan felt the Doctor's arms around his shoulders, and a head resting against his. He drew comforting circles against the Doctor's back, unsure if he was doing it for his benefit or the Doctor's.

"I lied to her," the Doctor muttered. Only then did Ryan notice that the hymn had finished.

"I know."

The Doctor pulled away to look at Ryan, but left his hands on his shoulders. "Should I have done that? Was that right?"

Ryan blinked mutely. The man with the planet-sized ego was now questioning himself? Ryan assumed the question wasn't rhetorical and the Doctor actually wanted an answer.

"I think… I think it's better to consider the long-term consequences of lying, and whether it would be really so bad just to tell the truth in the first place."

The Doctor's expression remained mostly impassive, except for the hint of regret.

"It's not your fault," Ryan quietly reiterated. The Doctor broke his gaze, turning his attention to the floor. Slipping out of their embrace, the Doctor dropped down, and started sonicking a panel on the floor.

"You're going down," Ryan simply stated. In the corner of his eye, he saw that he had caught the attention of Brannigan and Valerie.

The Doctor didn't look up. "Yes."

"I'm coming with you."

The Doctor sighed and stopped sonicking the panel. He stood. "You're staying here. I don't know what's down there, and I need to keep you safe."

"I'll be safe with you."

The Doctor shook his head. "You know I can't guarantee that."

Ryan marched the two short steps over to him. "Of course, I know that; I thought we were done with this bullshit! Why do you keep doing this?"

"Because I can't lose you!" the Doctor yelled.

Silence fell, only punctuated by the occasional beeping of horns from outside. Ryan dropped his gaze, deciding to pick at his cuticles. Cool fingertips grazed his cheek, coming to a stop on his jaw. He looked back up, following the gentle press of the Doctor's hand on his face.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor murmured, stroking Ryan's cheekbone with his thumb. Ryan couldn't help but lean into the Doctor's touch.

"How're you gonna deal with the exhaust fumes?" he whispered.

The Doctor scrunched his nose. "I'll be fine – my lungs can cope better than yours, and if it comes to it, I've got my respiratory bypass. Oh!" He grinned madly and slipped out of his coat, presenting it to Ryan. "Look after my coat. I love my coat; Janis Joplin gave me this coat."

Great. So he could say it to a bloody coat. Ryan sighed and took it.

The Doctor crouched down to the floor again, and opened the panel, revealing the murky air below. He jumped up, and clapped his hands together. "Right, Brannigan, Valerie." He paused, tugging his ear. "Thank you, I suppose. And I'll being seeing you later."

"But you can't jump!" Valerie exclaimed.

The Doctor ignored her protests, pulling Ryan into a tight hug. "I'll come back for you," he murmured into Ryan's neck. "I'll always come back for you." He pulled back, his chocolate brown gaze penetrating deep into Ryan's. His eyes flicked down to Ryan's mouth, and for one moment of madness, Ryan thought the Doctor was going to kiss him.

The Doctor grinned boyishly, before scrambling away and readying himself over the open hatch. "I'll see you later."

Ryan smiled back. "Not if I see you first."

He watched as the Doctor dropped down, hanging on the car before landing on the one below. He sonicked its roof, and then disappeared into it.

"He's completely mad!" Valerie commented, peering over her chair.

"That, and a bit magnificent," Brannigan added.

Ryan agreed. "He certainly is."


A/N: Thanks for reading!