An: recent events have left my heart heavy. Free hugs for you all with this chapter.

Jenny's heartbeat hammered in her ears as she crept along the corridor. Her eyes scanned for a way out, places to hide but it was bare flat stone walls. The doors were all locked; she assumed there were other artefacts behind them. She knew it couldn't be long until the unamusing guard returned with the commander. Despite the coolness, she felt sweat trickle down her spine. If this was Torchwood, where were all the other guards?

She reached a junction and took a right but it ended in a dead end with a rat who quivered its whiskers at her and squeaked before running off. She retraced her footsteps and took the left turning instead. It seemed very long and she wondered how big it was. It surely wasn't possible to hide somewhere this big in London. Unless it was underground. She thought about the tube tunnels, how long they were; remembered the dark space of London Below and shivered.

She fought to control her breathing as she heard footsteps in the distance. Swearing under her breath, she shoved the locket under another door on her left and braced herself as she opened the other locket once more; silently hoping that she wouldn't appear beside anything dangerous.

The room was lit by two torches and was filled with piles of what looked like junk, scrap bits of metal. She heaved a sigh of relief, collected the other locket and stood where the door would hide her if someone opened it. The footsteps came closer and passed her; no voices, just business-like dull thuds.

She looked around briefly for anything she could arm herself with but there was nothing and she knew enough now that a weapon she couldn't use was a weapon that could be used against her. She unrolled her lock pick set and worked the door open. If they came looking for her, they might be looking for unlocked doors and it would buy her some time if they explored this room.

She took off her shoes and ran on stockinged feet along the corridor. There was a muffled shout of disconcertion; they'd discovered she wasn't in the room then. She took the stairs at the end of the corridor two at a time, pausing at the top of them to listen with her ear against the door. She couldn't hear anyone and the door wasn't locked; she slipped easily through it into a courtyard, glad to see it empty.

"Mrs Palmer, I presume."

She cursed under her breath as a hand closed about her arm. Apparently Torchwood was also aware of the hiding behind a door tactic. She didn't fight as her hands were brought behind her back and manacled.

Lettie watched from the side of the cab and felt only a little sorry for Nigel as he was pushed up against the wall with a sword at his throat.

"Where is she?" Vastra repeated.

"Who?" he squeaked, scrabbling at Vastra's hand and resisting the urge to try and push the sword away from this throat.

"Jenny Flint!"

Nigel looked at Vastra as if she was deranged. "She's right there." He nodded behind Vastra with his head towards Lettie.

Vastra tilted her head to consider whether he was lying or foolish. "That is not Jenny Flint."

Nigel glowered at Lettie who had been edging cautiously away and was now kneeling down to check Charlie over. "Oh." He sniffed. "Then I don't have the first clue where Jenny Flint is."

"She disappeared holding your locket!" Vastra re-applied the pressure of her sword.

"It's a teleport!" Nigel's voice went up again. "It's a teleport. She must've opened it. It'll take her to Torchwood. The other one's still there. In the vault." Oh he was going to be in so much trouble for telling this lizard woman that.

"Lettie Palmer." Vastra called out and Lettie hastened towards her, her eyes going wide in shocked recognition as she saw Vastra's face when the Silurian turned towards her. "Torchwood will be after you. I suspect they will not stop. If I were you, I'd run." The last word was hissed.

Lettie gulped but nodded, moving over to Charlie to help him inside. He sat on a chair in the kitchen holding his head and still looking woozy. Lettie left him there, bounding up the stairs to the attic room once more, her mind buzzing. It was the lizard woman from the circus. Jenny Flint was working for the lizard woman from the circus? It alternated between a question and a statement as the phrase ran through her mind on repeat, even as she carefully redressed in a demure but well to do looking dress, packed her jewels inside a small bag and then left through the attic passage, as she'd told Torchwood she had. Lettie had escaped the Tong Gang; she could escape Torchwood. London was an easy place to hide in, with a little make-up and swift hair style change. She was sorry to see her house go, but among the jewels was the paperwork. She could sell up, find a new place and contact her girls. It was possible. She dropped down into the house three doors along and quietly let herself out into the back yard. Heaving herself over the back wall, she paused a moment. Jenny Flint worked for the lizard woman? She shook her head, took a breath to centre herself and then strode forwards with all the purpose of a woman whose business was not anyone else's but her own. The bank then, for the first stop. She wondered which surname she'd choose this time but more she wondered what chain of events had led to Jenny Flint and the lizard woman working together. Jenny Flint owed her that story.

Vastra meanwhile was still glaring at Nigel. "Where is Torchwood?"

"I can't tell you that." Nigel did his best to shake his head.

"Very well then." Vastra let him go and raised her sword above her head.

"Wait!" Nigel panicked.

"Your commander wished to place me under guard." Vastra looked at him disdainfully as she sheathed her sword. "He was not successful, as you can see. Here is my offer. Arrest me. Place me under your guard. Take me to Torchwood."

"Or?" Nigel asked, somewhat bravely for an ape Vastra thought.

"There is no 'or'."

Nigel considered the swords, considered he'd already told Vastra about the locket and considered that he might redeem himself for that if he showed up with a lizard woman who would be technically under arrest. Vastra saw in his eyes the moment he decided and grinned, showing all her teeth.

"We'll take my cab shall we?"

It wasn't the first cell Jenny had been in and it was far more comfortable than the one in jail. And it wasn't a pokehole by any means. In fact it didn't really seem to count as a cell so much as just another room for holding artefacts that hadn't currently been filled up yet. Apart from the manacles. She clinked them dispassionately, having already managed to hook her legs through to bring them round to the front. It didn't seem real that it was only that morning that they'd been so happy. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that it was very real that it wasn't morning any longer and that breakfast had been a long time ago and hadn't really happened either.

She started upright as the door opened and the man who'd caught her came in. A guard placed a table and chairs in the centre of the room.

"Sit. Please. My name is Lieutenant Wilton." He rested at ease in the chair with its back to the door. "I imagine you are hungry." He gestured towards the bread and ham that the guard returned with.

Jenny hadn't been prepared for hospitality but she took it, cautiously taking a bite of the bread.

"This is very simple, Mrs Palmer…" he stopped as she nearly choked on her bread.

"Wot?" she coughed, taking a deep swig of the water to clear her throat.

"Mrs Palmer." Lieutenant Wilton continued. "Lettie Palmer?" a questioning tone entered his voice.

Jenny shook her head. "Jenny Flint."

He laughed. "A very nice try, Mrs Palmer. But unfortunately for you, I have already met Jenny Flint. She is currently under arrest at her home for leaking information to you regarding Torchwood. And presumably about that locket, allowing you to escape. Unfortunately she must've failed to tell you that it would merely lead you here."

Jenny's jaw had been hanging open since he'd laughed but it snapped shut. If she ever found Lettie again, that woman was going to get what for.

"But I'm intrigued, Mrs Palmer, I will admit. How on earth did you escape the vault?"

"Cos I ain't Mrs Palmer. I'm Jenny Flint and I'm a bleedin' lock pick."

"The door was locked when we discovered you were missing."

"I locked it again after me." Jenny shrugged.

"How clever of you Mrs Palmer. Presumably you utilised the same skills to hide from the Commander when he made his way down. But this time you left the door unlocked?"

"Thought you'd waste time lookin' for me there. Give me a chance to escape."

"A military mind. You've missed your calling Mrs Palmer, running a dress house in London."

Jenny sighed. "I ain't Mrs Palmer, I'm Jenny Flint. An' if you don't believe me, call yer bleedin' Commander. He's met me."

Lieutenant Wilton's eyes narrowed. "It matters little. If you were in the vault, then you have the locket. I require it back." He held out his hand. Jenny hesitated. "You are a lowly whore Mrs Palmer!" he banged it on the table. "The person who gave it to you has conveniently disappeared; do not assume we would hesitate in letting you join him."

"I ain't Mrs Palmer!" Jenny yelled, terrified now, both for her and Lettie. She couldn't think of a way to keep both of them safe but she wasn't about to die for Lettie either. Her morality, it seemed, truly was flawed.

"There cannot be two of you."

"Shows how much you know!" Jenny spat.

Lieutenant Wilton stood up and knocked on the door. The guard came in and removed the table and food. "If you are lying, it will be the worse for you." He threatened her before walking out and slamming the door.

With a sigh Jenny slumped in her chair. The bread had done little to take the edge off her hunger. She debated picking the lock briefly but the door opened again soon enough. She scrambled to her feet as the Commander walked in. He wasn't wearing his bowler hat today.

"She tells no lies, Lieutenant Wilton. This is indeed Jenny Flint." The Commander nodded to her stiffly as he recognised her. Lieutenant Wilton tensed slightly and closed his eyes.

Jenny took one of the lockets from her dress and held it out to him. "I believe you wanted this back?"

He smiled humourlessly. "We did indeed. Congratulations on your success in this case. Your talents have not been exaggerated. And if this was the end of it…" he trailed off. "Alas, I hear disturbing reports that Jenny Flint, you in other words, revealed Torchwood to a stranger. That was not in the instructions we gave you. If you are Jenny Flint, then where is Lettie Palmer?"

Lieutenant Wilton coughed. "Well she must be the woman who claimed she was Jenny Flint, sir, in which case she's under the guard of Frank…uh…Sergeant Bevan, sir. I sent him to watch over her and Madame Vastra until you could assess the situation and duly deal with them."

The Commander turned very slowly to look at Wilton in utter disbelief.

"You sent one guard?"

"Well the others were required to search for…Lettie Palmer." Wilton was getting confused, Jenny could tell. "Uh…we didn't realise she was here. We'd been informed she'd taken off through the attic, sir. Besides," Wilton was looking nervous now, "Madame Vastra's only an old widow sir. Frank's more than capable of handling that."

The Commander's jaw clenched, his nostrils flared as he breathed in deeply and he massaged his temples with forefingers and a thumb.

"Tell me, Lieutenant Wilton, do you believe Torchwood is the kind of institute to harass old widows?"

"But I thought…"

"To send agents out to tail old widows and their maids half way across the world?"

"But she…"

"Lieutenant Wilton!" The Commander snapped and he jumped to attention.

"No sir. Not that kind of institute, sir. But sir…" he pleaded. "Who is she then? We thought she was just some old widow playing at it sir."

"She's got a higher arrest rate for petty criminals than most of the constables in London and you think she's playing?" Jenny could see a vein going in the Commander's temple.

"No sir." Lieutenant Wilton visibly wilted.

Jenny sat watching the exchange with a small flicker of amusement even in the seriousness of her predicament. Wilton had sent one guard out to watch Vastra? The macabre thought crossed her mind that Sergeant Frank Bevan would be very lucky if he was still alive.

"Madame Vastra is a monitored threat who has suspected associations with the Doctor! The very same elusive prey that we seek to stop from invading our shores again!"

"She could still just be a harmless old widow." Wilton protested sullenly.

The Commander took a sharp breath of air but what he planned to do with it was unknown for at that moment there was a knock on the door and a guard burst through it, out of breath and clearly panicked.

"Sir!" he gasped. "Think you'll want to come see this sir. We've got aliens!"

An: Guess who…