A couple new characters are introduced here. Don't have much else to say, so... Enjoy!

If Danny Pink had a list for all the times he ever felt uncomfortable, this would probably be number one.

The young soldier, fresh from duty in India, shifted his feet awkwardly as yet another scantily-dressed woman passed him by. You see, after leaving service, Danny had been looking for work in London. He had no family in the city, but plenty of friends. One of these friends (though he was reconsidering calling him that after his ordeal) suggested a 'bustling bar' he knew of in the lower dregs of the city that needed extra security. Danny, grateful, went to find this bar- The Silent Lady by name- and managed to secure a job as a door guard.

What his 'friend' had failed to mention was that the bar was, in fact, a brothel.

An exceedingly popular one, if the number of male guests pouring through the doors were any indication. Danny didn't know the common standards of establishments such as this one, but the high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and elegant furnishings were clear indicators that only the high-class could feel comfortable here. That was one reason the soldier felt so tense. There was also a collection of dolls arranged on fancy gilded shelves, towards the area where the brothel's "real business" was conducted. They had terrifying blank expressions, their perfect painted faces staring at nothing.

The last reason for his discomfort was the girls themselves.

Their way of dress wasn't helping. In the back of his mind, he wondered how many of them were actually freezing with their lack of coverage. But besides that, most of them had the exact same expressions as the dolls. No one seemed to notice, or care. And that unnerved him to no end.

A tap on his shoulder snapped Danny out of his thoughts, and he turned to see a bulky older man standing in front of him.

"Pink," he muttered, voice gruff, "Shift's up. My turn."

"Oh." Danny stepped aside to let the man take his place. "Thanks, Charles. I'll just be heading home…"

"You always go 'ome straightaway?" asked Charles, tilting his head. "You never stay for the girls?"

Danny was caught off-guard by the questions. "What?"

"You know, the Mistress of the 'ouse gives us guards a discount." Charles winked. "Why don't you take a seat with one of the ladies? You always look so serious."

"Oh, no, really, I'm fine," Danny tried, but Charles had already moved past him. He pulled at the first slender arm he saw and tugged its owner from the crowd. She was a pretty young thing, though the way she glared at Charles for manhandling her was surprisingly scary. Completely unlike the other girls...

"You," he spoke to girl as if she was a child. "Entertain my young friend 'ere, will ya?"

"Entertain him yourself," she growled, eyes narrowed dangerously. Danny felt a strange surge of both fear and fascination. Charles did not.

"Oi, watch yourself, girlie. Don't want the Madam to know 'ow rude you're being to one of 'er guards, do you?" The girl glowered, but reluctantly shook her head. Charles grinned smugly. "There we go. Watch yourself around this one, Pink," he laughed. "She's feisty."

Danny could say nothing when the girl grabbed his hand and began forcibly pulling him along. She was quite strong for one so… petite. He had no choice but to follow her until they reached one of the luxurious seating areas, which were blocked off from the rest of the brothel with heavy curtains. The girl pushed him into a seat, pulled the curtains around, and sat down as far from his as possible, frowning the entire time.

Stunned by this turn of events, Danny turned to look at the girl. The seating area had gas lamps installed in the ceiling above, so he could still see her quite well. She was very pretty, he noted. Soft brown curls cascaded down her shoulders and back, and she wasn't overly painted with makeup, like some of the other girls he'd seen. Her heart-shaped face had an almost angelic quality to it. Her clothes weren't too revealing either, though the low neckline of her red dress made him focus on her face, and not the rest of her body.

He hesitated. "Er… Hello?"

All he got in response was a soft grunt.

"Um… I'm Danny," he tried. "Danny Pink."

She looked at him, though she never lost her hateful glare. "Oswin."

"That's, um… An interesting name?" In hindsight, names probably weren't topics one usually discussed with prostitutes, but Danny didn't dare to think of the alternatives. Anyway, Oswin had raised an eyebrow at him, and the hateful look was momentarily gone.

"Says the man named Pink," she gibed.

Danny felt relieved that she was no longer hostile. At least for the moment. "Well, that's why I prefer Danny. I don't really fancy my name."

She smiled sadly. "Neither do I."

The soldier stared. If she was pretty before, her smile made her beautiful. The only thing that would further improve her countenance would be if she were actually smiling from joy. He coughed into his fist. "Well, I guess we've both got bad luck, then."

"Tell me about it," Oswin grumbled. She looked at Danny properly for the first time since they'd… 'been introduced' to each other. Then, with narrowed eyes, she asked, "Are you a soldier?"

Danny blinked. "Y-Yeah. Or, I was. Is it obvious?"

"My uncle was a soldier; I know the look. Plus, you sit like I'm your commanding officer and you're about to get court martialed or something," Oswin grinned impishly. "Relax. I don't bite. If somebody walks in on us and sees you sitting like that, they'll think I'm not doing my job."

"O-Oh. Sorry." He tried relaxing his limbs, and found himself practically melting into the seat. Was he really sitting so rigidly?

"Better?" he asked, attempting a smile.

Oswin nodded, her face drawn into a calculated, poised look. She suddenly reminded Danny of a governess. "Much." Then the look vanished, and Oswin leaned forwards, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. "So, Mister Pink… How are you adjusting to life as an ordinary civilian?"

"It's… strange," he answered honestly. "But I really don't miss being on the front."

"You didn't like serving?"

"Not as much as I thought I would. My father was an officer, and so was his father, and… Well, you get the idea. Turns out I'm the black sheep."

"Nothing wrong with being different," she said. "My father owned a shop and my mother was a stay-at-home. But my brother decided he wanted to go and be a tutor."

Danny smiled. "How'd that go over with your family?"

"They were mostly worried about the money university would cost," she shrugged. "But he took several jobs in our village and managed to pay his tuition mostly by himself."

"Mostly, eh?"

"Our uncle may have contributed a bit. But he worked hard at it, too."

"Your brother sounds like an interesting man."

"Yeah…" Oswin's eyes became glazed over in a mix of fondness and misery. "I haven't seen him in so long."

Danny felt a stab of sympathy for the young woman. "Does he live in London?" She nodded. "Why haven't you gone to see him?"

"It's… complicated," she sighed. "I want to. But I can't. Not while I'm stuck here. And I can't exactly leave."

There was a long silence, and then… "I could… I could look for him for you." Danny almost didn't believe he'd said that. It was only Oswin's shocked expression that even confirmed he did. He'd just offered to help a prostitute he'd only met just shy of ten minutes ago.

"W-... Would you?" Oswin's voice was small. "Would you really do that?"

Danny gulped. "I-I mean, if he's in London… I can probably find him. Maybe..."

Oswin stared at him for five seconds before breaking into a huge smile, and that was what broke Danny Pink. She threw her arms out and managed to close the distance between them in a flash, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug. Danny stumbled back from the surprise weight, cheeks colored the same as his name.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear. Her voice was strained now, as though she were holding back tears.

"N...No problem." Danny tentatively patted her back. She pulled away, though her arms were still secured around his neck, so their faces were centimeters apart. "I… I'll need his name. Your brother's, I mean. So I can find him."

"Right," Oswin nodded, wiping at her eyes with one hand, the other still touching Danny. So she had almost cried… "His name is-"

At that moment, the curtains cutting them off from the rest of the world were wrenched open, momentarily blinding them with the added light from the outside.

"Miss Oswin," a stern but feminine voice called out. Danny let his eyes adjust to the brightness and saw another woman standing in front of them. Mature but still gracefully beautiful, she wore an aristocratic dress that properly covered her body, so he knew right away she wasn't a prostitute. An expectant eyebrow was raised at the sight of the young girl still holding onto Danny Pink.

"M-Mistress!" she exclaimed, leaping away from Danny. He grew concerned with her sudden nervousness.

"Miss Tabby needs this booth to entertain Mister Blakely," the woman said, tilting her head back to indicate the couple behind her. "If you and this gentleman are not done, kindly move to one of the rooms, won't you?"

Oswin glanced at Danny, who stared back at her. "N-No, Mistress, we're done. Tabby may have the seats."

"Good. Now take this gentleman's pay." The woman turned around to leave, but before she took another step, she tossed her head back to address Oswin once more. "And one more thing: look for Miss Lottie, won't you? She hasn't turned up today."

"Yes, Mistress."

The woman left them. Oswin stood up, smoothed down her dress, and offered a hand to a stunned Danny, who took it and stood up himself. They walked through the brothel back to the entrance, which seemed noisier than ever now. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"It's fine," he replied. "H-How much… How much do I pay you?"

She gave him a half-smile. "How about this: first night is free. Come back tomorrow and you'll have to pay."

"That's… That's very kind of you."

"Consider it thanks." They stopped at the door, where Charles was still standing, though he now had a bottle of rum in one hand and didn't appear to be very aware of his surroundings. Oswin, without warning, once more embraced Danny, but this time he was prepared for it. He hugged her in return, and didn't react when she whispered in his ear again.

"Matt Oswald."

When they broke apart, Danny nodded, his face solemn. Oswin leaned up to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you, Mister Pink."

"Miss Oswin," he responded, "it's my honor."

The Doctor's study was far more crowded than his sitting room. Matt was finding it difficult to stand anywhere, let alone sit as the Doctor had told him to. But the Doctor stepped through the clutter like an experienced explorer navigating a dense jungle. He had in his arms a collection of maps, each of which detailed a section of the city of London. The detective spread the maps across a large table, laying them like a puzzle, connecting streets and roads together. Martha stood off to the side with Matt, both watching the man zip around the table, like a bee around a flower.

"So, this is most of London," the Doctor said, not looking up from the maps. "There are a number of brothels and less-than-reputable associations throughout the city, but the ones we're looking at…" he withdrew a fountain pen from a dislodged drawer nearby and circled a number of locations on the map, "... are these."

"What makes them so special?" asked Matt.

"These are the brothels most famous for catering to a 'higher standing'. Lords, politicians, and any number of seemingly-respectable people come to find their 'fun' here." The Doctor tapped the edge of the pen on the map, his face twisted into an unpleasant frown.

Matt raised an eyebrow, folding his arms together over his chest. "How is it you know about these places, Doctor?"

The detective gave him a weary glare. "It was a case a long time ago." And that was all he said. Martha was looking at the Doctor with nothing but sympathy, while Matt was only further intrigued. However, the tired look of the man stopped him from inquiring further. So he only nodded that he understood, and left it at that.

"So, what do we do? We're not going to go to each and every one of these brothels, are we?"

"Well, no," admitted the Doctor. "Even though these are the places the doll was most likely to have come from, there's still too many for us to move in and search for Clara. Without arousing suspicion, anyway."

Martha finally spoke. "So what's our next move?"

"There's not a lot of options. Before, this was a simple kidnapping case, but now a murder has been thrown into the mix." The Doctor ran a hand down his face. "I'd like it if we had an expert on hand, but…"

"An expert on brothels?" Matt was incredulous.

The Doctor only shrugged. "More of an expert than me, at least. A friend of mine, Jack, he's… very social. He doesn't usually go to these institutions, but… He's more aware of them than I am. Or care to be." The detective stared pensively at the map, mouth drawn into a tight frown. Matt wondered if perhaps this Jack had helped the Doctor with that one case a long time ago.

The sound of the knocker resounded through the house, causing all three to look towards the door. Martha smoothed down her maid's uniform and excused herself to answer the door.

"I really hope that's not another client," the Doctor groaned. "I can't take on another case."

Matt didn't reply, as Martha's loud exclamation cut him off, followed by a boisterous, male laugh. The Doctor's eyes widened and he ran out of the room. Matt, stunned, followed after a few moments had passed. Navigating through the house's hallways, Matt found himself once again in the main foyer, but there was added company present.

A tall and attractive man wearing a long military overcoat and a bright smile was currently enveloping Martha in a hug. The maid was smiling as well, so the man must not have been a stranger to her. And the Doctor was staring in dumbfounded disbelief at the man, as if he were a ghost come from the grave.

The man caught sight of the Doctor staring at him and let go of Martha. "Well, if it isn't Davey!" he laughed, voice deep and tinged with an American accent. "It's not often I manage to catch you at home!"

The Doctor finally found his voice. "Jack?"

"You seem surprised," the man, apparently the famous 'Jack' they'd just spoken about, grinned.

"We were just talking about you," supplied Martha. "We didn't think you'd be back so soon."

"Well, that's London for you. Such a beautiful city keeps calling me back." He winked at Martha, who looked away with a bashful smile. Jack turned his head and finally saw Matt standing there, looking confused and slightly awkward as the trio of friends around him reunited. Another broad, handsome smile lit up Jack's face. "And who is this?" He strode across the foyer and offered a hand to the tutor.

Startled, Matt allowed the man to grab his hand and shake it. "I-I'm Matt. M-Matt Oswald," he stuttered, still shocked by Jack's sudden appearance.

"Hello Matt," Jack murmured, not releasing his hand. "Captain Jack Harkness." He flashed Matt a charming smirk, and the tutor actually felt his cheeks heat up at the obvious flirtation.

"Don't you start!" The Doctor shouted, marching towards them.

"I was just saying hello," Jack complained. He glanced at Matt. "He gets so jealous," he added, smiling mischievously.

"Matthew doesn't need you 'saying hello' to him," the detective muttered.

"I-it's fine," Matt said, startling himself. "I don't mind."

The Doctor stared at him while Jack beamed.

"You don't?"

"Not really," Matt smiled sheepishly.

"I like him," Jack said to the Doctor, never taking his eyes off the flustered tutor. "Is he yours?"

The Doctor's eyes went wide as he blushed dark red. "He's a client!" he squeaked. "Just a client!"

"Is he? Well then," Jack slipped around the Doctor and looped an arm around Matt's shoulders, "is there anything little ol' Jack can help you with?"

The Doctor scowled, while Martha merely looked amused at the entire scene.

"Actually, there is." Grabbing Jack by the collar, the Doctor pulled him off of his client and back to his study, where the map with the circled brothels lay patiently. Matt and Martha shared a look and soon followed after them.

It had grown late when Jack was finally all caught up on the current happenings in the Doctor's life. He now knew about Clara and her relation to Matt, as well as her disappearance, which was linked to several others that had recently occurred. Of course, the captain agreed to help out, but seeing the hour on the clock, he suggested that they all rest their heads and wait until morning to continue their investigation.

Matt was startled, not realizing how dark it had grown outside, and prepared himself to go back to his lodgings at 21 Aickman Road, but the Doctor wouldn't have it.

"Just stay the night here," he insisted. "We've got room."

Since the Doctor promised to call the Owens family and let them know where he was, and because Matt was incredibly tired from the day's events, he agreed, allowing Martha to take him upstairs to the guest bedrooms. It was bizarre, how small the house seemed on the outside, when the inside was much more spacious. He commented so to Martha, but all the maid did in reply was laugh.

"Everyone says that," she explained.

She left Matt in a decently comfortable room, though signs of the Doctor's presence (such as various gadgets and books) were still strewn about. It wasn't unmanageable, though. A pair of night clothes were folded up on the neatly-made bed. Matt turned around to close the door so he could change, but as he faced the outside, he was met with the sight of Captain Jack Harkness yet again.

The man was leaning against the doorframe, looking as casual as ever with his smile. "Thought I'd drop in to say goodnight."

"Oh. Well…"

"And," Jack interjected, before Matt could say more, "I wanted to say I'm sorry."

"... For what?"

He pushed himself off the doorframe and stepped into the room, closer to the tutor. "About your sister. It must be hard for you."

Matt swallowed the lump in his throat, which recently started appearing whenever anyone mentioned Clara. "I-It is. But I'm sure the Doctor will find her."

"Oh, he definitely will. I've known Davey for a long time. He's one of the cleverest men I've ever known."

Matt felt a smile tug at his lips. "Davey?"

Jack shrugged. "It's what his brother calls him. He hates it."

"Then why do you call him that?"

"He's cute when he's annoyed." Matt laughed, and Jack smiled at the sound. "Anyway, enough about Davey. I've been informed that you're a tutor?" The captain stepped closer, though Matt stayed in place.

"I am," he replied. "Is that important?"

"Just wondering if I should call you Mr. Oswald instead."

"Not unless you're one of my students. And that doesn't seem likely. You appear very well-educated, Captain Harkness."

"Oh, I've still got a lot to learn."

"Do you now?"

Jack gave a roguish and possibly dirty grin. "Maybe you could give me some private lessons?"

Just as Matt's cheeks turned pink, the Doctor suddenly appeared in the doorway. He was still dressed in his day clothes, but a small frown marred his otherwise attractive face.

"Are you still harassing my client?" he asked suspiciously.

Jack raised his hands above his head in mock-surrender. "I was just saying goodnight! Christ, Davey, you sure he's not yours?"

"I'm not anyone's," supplied Matt, vaguely annoyed.

The Doctor pointed gratefully at the tutor. "Exactly! Thank you! And you," he turned to Jack, "stop calling me Davey. It's bad enough when Chris does it."

"Never gonna happen." Jack turned his head back to Matt. "Goodnight, Mr. Oswald."

The blush that was finally fading away came back full-force on Matt's face, as Jack winked at him and strode out the door. The captain also said a goodnight to the Doctor, but the detective only rolled his eyes in reply.

"Sorry about him," he said, with a genuine look of sympathy. "Can't find a way to turn him off."

"It's fine, really, Doctor. Or should I say Davey?"

"Oh Matthew, please, no," the Doctor groaned. "Not you too!"

"Stop calling me Matthew and I won't call you Davey," he smirked.

"I…" The Doctor sighed. "Fine. Deal. But it might slip out sometimes," he warned.

"Fair enough." Matt yawned and brought his hand up to cover his mouth.

"Sorry," the Doctor said quickly. "You're probably tired. I should let you sleep."

"It has been a long day." Matt smiled. "Goodnight, Doctor."

"Goodnight, Matthe-... Matt. I said Matt."

With one last chuckle, Matt turned away from the detective, walking towards his bed. The Doctor sighed and closed the bedroom door for him. When he walked away from the room, he saw Martha waiting for him at the end of the hallway.

"I've called the Owens," she said. "They know where Matt is. They sounded very worried at first."

"Wouldn't you be?" asked the Doctor. "His sister goes missing and then he runs off with a mysterious man and is gone for hours."

"That last part happens a lot to you."

A shrug. "Occupational hazard, I suppose. Goodnight, Martha."

She curtsied, watching him go down the hallway to his room.

"Goodnight, Doctor Smith."

Hehehe. So now we've started hinting at the Doctor's attraction to Matt, but it'll still take a while. You know the Victorians.