"What," said the Doctor. "What?"

"Wasn't exactly what I had in mind," said River wryly, "but needs must..."

They gazed together at the console screen and the news report of the meteor strike and resultant quake on Luna in the 52nd century. A list of names was scrolling slowly, and River clutched at the Doctor's arm. "Professor Eva Jones," she said dully, "that's our Evie. Missing, presumed..." she choked and he looked at her sharply.

"River, we will not let that happen," he said urgently, turning to her and taking her hands in his. "Sexy wouldn't have shown it to us if it couldn't be rewritten." He brought their joined hands together to his mouth and kissed her fingertips. "Trust me, my River," he murmured against her skin, "we can fix this."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Even as Jack kissed her, Evie's mind was relentless; it went around and around, chastising her, taunting her with her own inadequacies. Stupid girl, it said, can't even control yourself, and she pulled away from Jack, pushing at him as he tried to follow. "Leave me alone!" she cried and shoved him hard enough that his head hit the fallen masonry behind him.

"Ow! What the hell, Evie?" he yelped, rubbing the back of his head and banging his elbow on yet another piece of fallen stone in the process. Tight spaces, thought Evie wildly, and she began to laugh. It was more than half hysterical and she flinched away from him as she recognised that; sure that this time he would hit her to snap her out of it, no matter what he had said a few minutes ago.

But he didn't. He just muttered to himself for a bit, too quietly for her to understand, and then she felt him take a deep breath. "Evie," he said gently, "I need you to tell me why you're so afraid, afraid of the dark, afraid of tight spaces... and afraid of me..." He trailed off, hoping she would speak, but she didn't, and so he continued. "Did... I mean, did somebody hurt you? Or scare you, because I-"

"-Bugger off, Jack, I'm not that bad a shrink," she interrupted, her voice quiet but bitingly angry, "No childhood trauma, no abusive relationships, not even bratty siblings locking me in a closet for a prank." Her voice was rising now but at least it was no longer hysterical. Now she was just seriously pissed off. That's good, he thought, anger is better than fear. "If it were that fucking simple, I'd have taken care of it long ago. But it's not; there is no reason for this phobia. Some fucking shrink, huh?" This last was hurled at him almost defiantly, and although he couldn't see her clearly, he got the impression that her hands were clenched into tight fists. "Right," she practically spat at him when he didn't answer, "No kind of shrink who can't even make her own mind behave... what are you doing?"

Jack had taken one of her tiny fists into his larger hands and was slowly and carefully massaging the fingers and wrist until the hand relaxed, and then he repeated the process on the other hand. "I hadn't realised," he said conversationally, "how... repressed you are, Professor Jones." At her indignant sputter (although he noticed she didn't pull her hand away from his), he smiled. "Maybe repressed isn't quite the right word," he acknowledged, "but you give yourself far too little credit and you bottle up an awful lot. You have this... persona, I guess, the one that says you're sweet and kind and competent and intelligent and forgiving. And you are all those things, Evie, you truly are. But you're also phobic and insecure and nobody knows that. Not your colleagues, not your friends, not your lovers." He dropped a kiss on her nose and she did not protest. "I - Boe - loved you for years, but he didn't know you, did he? Does anyone?" He shook his head. "Never mind, unfair question."

"Your day for them," she muttered, pulling her hand away, but keeping it relaxed now.

"You remind me of River that way, you know," he said, recapturing the hand and bringing it to his lips, "I made her cry once, by comparing her to you... hey!" Evie had yanked her hand away.

"Lovely to hear, Jack, that you made one of my - and your - best friends in the whole universe cry by comparing her to me. For which of us was the comparison favourable?" Bless but I'm snippy, Evie thought, and damn if it doesn't feel good. Something to be said for catharsis.

"It was favourable for both of you. I told her..." Jack closed his eyes for a moment, remembering "I told her that you and she shared a generous spirit. She cried and said she was nothing like as generous as you are, but the Doctor and I convinced her that she is - just for a much smaller circle of people. Because you, Evie, are generous with everyone. Apparently even those you don't trust. River hides her insecurities behind brashness and guns. You hide yours behind sweetness and light."

"Never said I was perfect..." Evie muttered.

"No," Jack said bluntly, "but you sure give off the impression that you are. You hide your problems well... Out of curiosity, how did you ever manage to get through medical school - as a psychiatrist no less - without anyone ever finding out you have a crippling phobia?"

Evie ducked her head. "I cheated," she admitted in a shamed tone.

"You cheated? I didn't know you had it in you." He was teasing her now, but this time it didn't seem malicious. If she was honest with herself it hadn't been malicious before either, but she had been too... overwrought, she decided... at the time to realise that it was just teasing. "Tell me how you did it," he encouraged her, and she managed a weak chuckle. He would like that, wouldn't he?

"I knew I could handle almost all the tests," Evie said slowly, "but I had to... to arrange to be um... not-deprived in the sensory deprivation tank." She shivered and his hands moved from where they had drifted to hers, carefully up her arms to hug, giving her plenty of time to protest. She didn't, and the shivers eased. "I got a friend to pick the lock on the Medical Technology lab - I told her I was pranking the professor - and I stole some temporary retinal and auditory implants. When I climbed into the tank I could see and hear what was programmed into the implants, so to me it wasn't dark and quiet. It was still a tight space but without the dark and the quiet I was okay." She shrugged, shoulders shifting under his hands.

Jack pulled her closer. "This OK now?" She nodded, a bit hesitantly but better than before. "I just want you to know, Evie, that if I could see you clearly, my expression would be one of unadulterated admiration." His voice was warm and amused, and Evie relaxed slightly. "But sweetheart, you're surrounded by psychiatrists every day. Surely you could ask for help."

Evie's chuckle was tinged with bitterness. "Oh of course, the short pudgy ginge with the freckles, the one who looks about twelve, asking for help because she's afraid of the dark. That would inspire confidence in my colleagues and patients, certainly."

Jack's laugh on the other hand was warm and full, until he threw his head back and banged it on the tumbled wall again. "Ow. Fuck," he said, still chortling. "God, Evie, once you decide to let down that sweet-and-simple shield, you sure have a biting tongue. And Evie? Thank you."

"For what?"

"For trusting me with yourself."

This time she kissed him.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

River often wondered why - given that they had a time machine who loved them both - there was still a sense of urgency in situations like these. Because just now she wanted nothing more than to pound on Sexy's console in frustration as their husband sometimes did, just so they could get to their friend faster. She knew this was utter rubbish; they would get there when they got there.

That knowledge didn't help.

So she was actually relieved when the wheezing noise (finally!) indicated that the Doctor had left the brakes on again, because it was audible evidence that they were doing something, getting somewhere. Her husband looked up from where he sat brooding in the jump seat, his expression lightening. "Ready, my River? Got your kit?" He looked... purposeful, she decided, but not particularly worried. Good sign. She patted the cargo vest slung over the railing and smiled at him.

"And yours, my love," she said, kissing him gently and snapping something round his wrist. He glanced down at it and frowned.

"A perception filter, River? Why?"

She sighed, her green eyes sad. "Because, my love," she said quietly, "in this time and place they believe that you're dead and I'm your killer. I'd rather not get arrested again, and you... well..." she trailed off.

"Right," he said slowly and swallowed hard at the look on her face - that pained half-smile - feeling guilty as he always did since the wedding. "River, I..."

"Shut up," River said, and kissed him to show him that it was only practicality, not a guilt trip, that had prompted her use of the filters. Guilt trip, the always-working part of the Doctor's mind thought, what an interesting phrase. I'll have to look that up next time I'm on Earth. He broke the kiss and smiled at River, offered her his arm.

"Shall we?"

She accepted the arm and scooped up her kit on the way out of the TARDIS.

And they walked out to the sight of a devastated landscape. "Dear god," breathed River, and the Doctor agreed with the sentiment, although that dry, thinking part of his brain went on pointing out the ways in which this was not as disastrous as she feared. "Just... rubble, Doctor..." River said blankly. "Not even ruins, just bits of stone..." She shivered and he pulled her into the circle of his arm.

"No. Not a direct hit, my River," he pointed out reasonably, "or if it was, a very small meteor, because look over there..." he pointed with his free hand, "there're trees still standing. Nothing is burning except the central tower, and the emergency crews have that under control." He squeezed her shoulder and when she didn't respond, shook her gently. "River. Look at me. We dropped Jack off here not three hours ago by their timeline. If anyone can keep Evie safe in a situation like this one, it's Jack Harkness."

That was when the aftershock hit.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Jack grabbed Evie and rolled her underneath him. He could survive - or revive - if more masonry fell on him. She struggled, trying ineffectually to protect his head with her hands. "Evie, stop!" If his mouth hadn't been right beside her ear, she'd never have heard him over the rumbling. "God, sweetheart, remember what you saw, what I am, this can't hurt me!" he almost sobbed into her ear, and her good sense overrode her instinct to protect. She pulled her hands in, made herself as small as possible under the protection of his body, and rode out the quake.

It seemed hours later when the shaking stopped, though it was less than a minute, and Evie sobbed with relief when she heard Jack's harsh breathing above her. "Shh, you're OK, sweetheart," he murmured even as thoughts whirled wildly in his head. It was even darker now, he couldn't see anything at all, and although he hadn't died this time, one of his legs was pinned under something - a fallen beam maybe. But his biggest concern was that in this pitch black and tight space, how long would Evie be able to hold herself together?