Dad

The word was soft and calm in his head. He frowned because her psychic abilities were strangely enough, strongest when she wasn't conscious, which was why no one had bad dreams around her. If she was leaking through at this moment that meant that she wasn't awake and he felt the anger reach boiling point. They had been man-handled into an office and tied to metal chairs and across from them sat Slin, black teeth showing in a wide smile.

"My daughter." It wasn't a question, his voice icy.

"Oh, no worries, she's fine for the moment."

"She's unconscious," he growled.

"Interesting that you can tell that, but I'm a man of my word. She will wake soon and will be safe until you decide."

The Doctor looked at Donna, "She'll be okay. I'll get us out of this."

"Well," Slin began losing the smile. "We know that you will save the town, which will be a disappointment to the Angels but they will get over it. So which will it be then, Wife or Daughter? The one who saved you are the one who changed you. Your wife has certain advantages, I must say." His eyes rolled down Donnas' body and the Doctor pulled against his ropes. "But your daughter, well she's your child. How do you lose her..not just lose her -sacrifice her. She's much too important right?"

The moment had finally come; the Doctor realized when Grace had become a pawn in someone's game. He and Donna had talked about this, but they had pushed it off as long as they could. They made sure what they did was safe, and when it wasn't she was sent to Jack's until it was safe. It was why they worried when she went off on her own. She wasn't just half Time-Lord, she was his. And that wasn't a safe place to be, and he hated himself for it.

"Give me your wife now, and I'll get your daughter to you. You both and that friend of yours can go. Or take your wife and go, and I'll try not to tell your child that you left her here to die."

"Slin, I think that you should think carefully. I brought you down with one Time-Lord brain. You have placed yourself in the path of three. Do you really think you have the upper hand?"

"As long as I have your daughter at the mercy of the Angels, I think I just might."

"I wouldn't underestimate her."

Jack woke first, pulling his head up, his neck feeling stiff. The room was large and empty, and he pulled against his shackles. He was chained to the wall, arms spread and above his head but his feet were on the ground, and while uncomfortable it didn't hurt. He felt warm fingers against his and looked over to Grace who was still hanging limply. He watched her chest rise and fall, and then noticed that she was higher on the wall. She was high enough that her arms were level with his- her feet too far from the floor to relieve the pain of dangling from her arms. Her shoulders were still held tight, so her arms were still in the sockets, though he worried she might pull when she came to.

Her position made him think that she was the one that was supposed to be hurting out of the two. He heard her groan.

"What kind of mood am I going to be in if I open my eyes?" Her voice was impossible cheery.

"I wouldn't call it happy," he offered, thankful that she was awake.

She opened them anyway and then looked to Jack. She pulled against her chains and Jack winced but her face was calm. "You sure know how to treat a lady."

Jack couldn't help the laugh. She didn't seem bothered at all. She was all jokes and smiles, even if there was something below the surface. She had learned that from the best. "Not one of my better dates," he noticed her surprised look at the word 'date' but carried on. "I can admit that. I'll just have to make it up to you."

She just nodded, her smile still in place, but her eyes searching, her mind clearly kicking into gear. "So why do they like you better?" She pulled again on her chains to explain.

"Easy," he murmured worried that she would hurt herself. "I'm not sure."

He felt her words about seeing him soon replay in his mind. "Grace, did you know this was going to happen?"

She didn't look at him, although now it seemed to be on purpose. "Not this exactly." Each word was said slowly.

"Grace?"

She finally glanced at him, "Well, to be fair my version didn't have us shackled to a wall."

"That's funny, that's how I always picture it."

She laughed, "That's my Jack. Nice to have you back."

He was hers? He forgot how to speak for a moment.

"Wait, you offered yourself as bait. That's why we separated."

"Yep," she agreed.

"Do you know what your father is going to do to me? Did you not hear the threat before we left?"

"I'll take care of it, don't worry."

He sighed. She was a wonderful sort of impossible. "Do you have a plan then?" He felt the fear he felt when she asked if he trusted her.

"I wouldn't call it a plan," she opened her hand sliding her fingertips in between his. "Jack, you know I love you right?"

Her mother had said those words to him once, not that he would mention that to her. But his answer was automatic. "Of course, and I love you."

"You said you would make it up to me?"

He felt confused. "I did?"

"The date?"

"Oh," he didn't dare feel hope. "Yeah, sure. Anything you want to do. I'm full of ideas in case you don't have any."

She rewarded him with another laugh. "We can try this as friends, right?"

He forced a smile and reminded himself that he could wait. Where was he going? "Sure."

She stared at the door intently for a moment. "Why this wall, Jack?"

"Why are we chained on this wall? We look better against this shade of gray? Brings out our eyes?"

She smiled. "The door."

He looked at it and it clicked. "So we can see the door."

She nodded pushing her hand into his as much as she could. "I have a feeling; you aren't going to want to blink."