A/N: Any words in italics are either the alien inside Connie thinking, or a dream/flashback thing. Enjoy!

Jason sat at the counter, a doughnut in one hand, the morning newspaper in the other. He sighed, tossing it down. There was never anything interesting in Odyssey's papers... Just ads, events, and the odd interview.

Ding! Jason turned from his position at the counter.

"Hey, Dad." Jason greeted his father with a smile, then took a bite of the greasy deep-fried bagel he was holding.

"Good morning, Jason." Whit returned. "You really should lay off those, y'know." He mock frowned, gesturing at the doughnut.

Jason looked at it, wincing. "I know. But Connie makes such good ones." He took another bite.

Whit smiled. "Yes, I know. It's the only thing she can make too."

The laughed together as the bell rang again. "Shh! Here she comes."

Jason turned around, all traces of laughter gone from his face. "Morning, love."

"Good morning, Jason!" She said, kissing him lightly. She greeted Whit before disappearing into the kitchen. That's what Connie would have done, right? He flipped through her recent memories, relived to see that Connie had greeted Jason several times with a kiss. Last night he had gone through her memories and noticed a reoccurring watch that caused a lot of hype around the shop. He recalled Eugene's words about what was inside, and decided that it was worth taking a look at.

AIOAIOAIOAIO

Connie crept down the basement downstairs to the workshop below. How he survived the day, he didn't know... The monotony of serving ice cream, talking to the children who frequented the shop, the putting money in the cash register... He was tempted to slip a few bills into his pocket, but decided against it. If all this turned out to be a dead end, he'd take the cash and get out of town. But something was different this time. What the annoying genius with the glasses had said sounded like what he was looking for.

Tiptoeing down the rickety steps, he almost tripped on a loose board. Nearly yelping in surprise, he steadied himself on the hand rail and listened for footsteps above. Hearing none, he continued down the stairs into the basement without any further incidents.

He made his way to the workbench, grinning a sinister grin. The watch smiled back, almost daring him to open it up. He reached his hand down, but hesitated at the last second. What if...

"Connie?" The lights flicked on. He had left them off, as he could see in perfectly in the dark and it would hide him from anyone who would walk past the shop this late at night. Now, he turned to face Whit, blinking in the bright white light.

"Hey... hey, Whit." He turned to face the older man, clearing his throat to get back into the proper voice.

There was an awkward pause. "So... What are you doing down here?"

"Uh..." What would Connie be doing down here? Think, think... Well, I could just tell a half truth. "Just wanted to have another look at the watches!" Why shouldn't Connie want to have a look at the watches? One of them is hers, after all. Connie grinned up at him, confident he had said the right thing. But wait. Whit had left to go home. Why is he here? "Why are you here, Whit? I thought you left."

"Yeah, I did. But I guess I'm here for the same reason you are." He shrugged and walked past her, picking up his watch.

Don't you dare open it, Whittaker.

Whit fiddled with the timepiece for a moment, then looked up at Connie. "Are you alright, Con? You haven't seemed yourself this past week."

"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine! What makes you say that?"

"You've just seemed slightly... distant. Like you've been having problems outside of work. Are you and Jason... ok?"

Seriously? "Yes! There are no problems between Jason and I, Whit. I love him. You know that." Ugh.

Whit smiled, relieved. He was so happy that Jason had finally settled down and started a relationship (with Connie, of all people! Whit considered it a match made in heaven. Not that he told anyone that, of course), and he would hate to see anything happen to the cutest couple in Odyssey. (Sometimes he had to punch something to get rid of these shippy feelings. Like what he was feeling right now.) He shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. "Is there anything else wrong?"

If only you knew, Whittaker. "Nope! Nothing at all." He must have said that enough like Connie, because that was all it took to temporarily convince Whit.

Actually, something was wrong. He could feel this body weakening. It's a shame, really; he could only spend so much time hiding in a body before the body would start to shut down. Normally, he'd use it up, then jump out before it died, leaving the body to be found several hours or days later. But not this time. This was too promising.

AIOAIOAIOAIO

"John!" Constance shrieked, holding onto the TARDIS console for dear life. "We're going to crash!"

John ran around the console, pressing buttons, pulling levers, and spinning dials. "I'm doing everything that I can!" He cried. "Hold on!"

"I am!"

He pulled a lever, then stopped. That was it. The TARDIS was out of control, and it indeed looked like they were going to crash. Constance looked at him, fearful. He pulled her to himself.

"I don't know where we'll end up, but it'll be alright." He said, trying to confort her.

She attempted to smile. "As long as it's not on Skaro."

He laughed. "Yes, but we'll be tog-" He started, but was cut off when the TARDIS made impact with the ground. They were thrown to the floor, and water seeped from... the ceiling?

"John..."

"Yeah, Con?"

"Why is the pool upstairs again?"

"Sorry."

They shakily got to their feet, and John took a look at the moniter. "The atmosphere looks good, so at least it's habit..." John stopped. No. Please, no.

"What, John?" Constance came around and looked over his shoulder.

"We're on earth. 1923."

She whacked him playfully on the arm. "That's not so bad!"

He turned to look at her. "Yes, but they have a very rudementary understanding of aliens, like ourselves. First of all, they wouldn't have the parts to fix the TARDIS," which was emmitting a concerning amount of smoke and sparks, "for at least 100 years, and second of all, if they found out about us and our alien-ness, they would most likely hold us captive and run horriffic tests on us!"

Constance huffed. "They can't all be like that!"

"Yes, they can. And they are." He walked away, but she followed.

"Ok, bad humans aside; I'm starving!" She tugged his sleve, just like his daughter. His daughter. The memory of the events from the previous day hit him like Rassilon's staff when he was late for a Time Council meeting.

"The- The Time War..." He stuttered, slumping over. How could he have forgotten? His wife, children, parents; gone.

Constance covered her mouth and let out a strangled sob. She had no family, but they were her people.

"We... we abandoned them." She sobbed, and John pulled her into a hug.

"There was nothing we could have done," He said, for her assurance as well as his. "It was time locked. We couldn't get in."

"There could have been a way! We're Time Lords, there's always a way!"

He smiled sadly. "Not this time."

They stayed in the TARDIS for several weeks, doing nothing but mourning for their beloved home. When the Daleks attacked, they had been off the planet, and when they had returned, they couldn't land. The planet was already time locked. And all they could feel was guilt that they had not been there to help.