A few hours after storming out of Eleanor Bull's guest house, Marlowe awoke in a dark alleyway, with no memory of how he'd gotten there. His heart sank. Not again. Please not again. He very reluctantly looked beside him, only to find the corpse of a young serving woman. She had not a mark on her, but she was most definitely dead. Her eyes were dim, devoid of life, and they were covered in a strange film. Her skin was a horrible greyish colour.

"Did I cause this?" he wondered to himself. Instinctively, he raised his hand and felt for the medallion around his neck, as he had done the first two times, to remind himself what he was paying for, and that it was worth the terrible price. He felt a knot form in his stomach when he realized that there was nothing around his neck.

The medallion was gone.

He emptied his stomach, right in the middle of the alley. His heart was racing, and he could barely breathe. What would happen to him now? What if the Thagesians refused to honour their bargain without the medallion? What if they punished him for losing it? What if...what if...?

Had he given up everything...for nothing?

Meanwhile, Rose and the Doctor had left the guest house and were now wandering the streets
of Deptford, trying to blend in. Trying, and failing. Rose's gown wasn't exactly inconspicuous. Rose wasn't too concerned about it though. In her time with the Doctor she had become very good at ignoring the strange looks people frequently gave them.

"So, what do we do now?" she asked.

The Doctor frowned. "There's a man walking around who should be dead. We've been here before, Rose. You know how this ends."

Rose did know, and it wasn't good. She tried to cover up the shakiness in her voice when she asked, "How much time do we have before the Reapers come?"

"A couple of hours, if we're lucky?" The Doctor didn't look as though he were putting much store in luck right then.

"Well, in that case, we'd better get to work!" She said, giving him an encouraging smile.

The Doctor looked at Rose, and she could see in his eyes exactly what he was thinking. His companion, his Rose, believed in him, and that was all he needed to save the day once again. "Right, Rose Tyler." He gave her a confident grin. "Allons-y!"

"Where are we going?" Rose asked.

"I want another word with Marlowe."

"And how do you plan on finding him?"

"We'll have to go door to door, asking if anyone has seen him. He could have left the city by now..."

Rose, seeing something over the Doctor's shoulder, tried not to smile. "Oh...I don't think he's left the city."

"All the same, I think we need to plan for the..." Comprehension dawned on the Doctor's face. "He's right behind me, isn't he?"

Rose nodded. The Doctor turned to find Marlowe brandishing a sword in a shaky hand. "You will give me back what is mine," he demanded in an even shakier voice.

The Doctor took a careful step towards Marlowe. "But it's not yours, is it?" he asked, his voice soft. "Not really. Tell me who gave it to you. What was the trade?"

"Why should I tell you anything?" Marlowe demanded, but he did lower the sword.

"Because I can help." The Doctor answered earnestly.