James had fourteen hours before Morgan Gates would come to whisk him away to the other universe, which meant he had fourteen hours to explain to Jackie, Pete and Rose where he was going to be for however long this trip might take.

Easier said than done.

Though he wasn't supposed to know it, Pete had assigned some of his agents to watch him upon his arrival to this universe. If it had been anyone but him, they would have done so without detection.

Naturally, however, James had spotted them the moment they had started tailing him. He had ignored them for the most part, because- as much as it irked him- he understood why Pete felt the need to have him watched.

The Doctor hadn't exactly said nice things about him when he had dropped him off. He said flat-out that James was angry and had the potential to be violent and since he had left him in the hands of Pete's daughter, his concern had been understandably placed, even as insulting and annoying as it was.

But now it wasn't just a hindrance. It could turn out to be a problem. He couldn't just tell Pete he was leaving (and even if he did, where would he say he was going that wouldn't sound suspicious?) because Pete would have his agents follow him.

Rose wasn't going to be happy about it either. It wouldn't matter where he would say he was going, she would want to go with him.

He had been going over all of this in his office when he sensed it was time to get off work. He may not have been a full Time Lord anymore, but he still had his time sense.

Standing, he grabbed the prototype sonic and a few papers, stuffed them into his suit jacket's pocket and then headed home.

Pete would stay until later. He usually worked late. Which was fine with James. He wanted to be alone for a while and walk. It gave him time to think.

Unfortunately, all he could think about was what Rose had said to him earlier in the day. She was right, of course. He had been sulky and quiet. It wasn't intentional and he had meant it when he told her that he was preoccupied. He had been racking his brain trying to get the TARDIS to grow faster and to put together the sonic screwdriver.

For the most part, they had been the only things on his mind.

But that wasn't the whole truth and he knew it. Something had been bothering him ever since Bad Wolf Bay and he was doing his best to ignore it.

He passed the bridge Morgan Gates had appeared near on his way to Pete's mansion (he had had it repaired after the Cyber attack and redecorated to Jackie's liking), where two agents stood guard over it. The tear wasn't visible to the naked eye, and although the portal was already starting to waver, James could still feel the tension in the surrounding air where the fabric of the universe's borders had been disturbed.

Every universe has points where the walls keeping one universe separated from another become weak, but typically, they don't open. The most they do is give you shivers if you happen to walk through one. There were ways to open them naturally, without causing damage to either universe, but it was extremely difficult to do. It took a lot of effort and a lot of patience. Opening one up naturally- enough to get a human through- could take years, maybe even decades and after that, it was nearly impossible to keep open for long without risking near-irreparable damage to the area.

Torchwood's mistake at Canary Wharf had been impatience and opening and closing the portal too many times. The only way to safely open a portal and not cause any damage was to do it slowly and only the once.

Morgan Gates had done it right. But how? The other universe's Torchwood had technology beyond its time, yes, but not so much as to be able to do something to this scale. It would be centuries before they were capable of that. Not even this universe could do that.

He didn't realize he had stopped, his mind too focused on other things, busily bringing up more and more questions he didn't have the answers to.

"James?"

He looked around, immediately meeting Rose's gaze.

"Oh. Hello," he said, sheepishly waving at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Heading home. I'd say same as you, but i' looks like somefin' broke. Your feet still work, yeah?"

James looked down at his feet and then back at her. "I think so. Hold on. Let me do a test run." He took a step, then held out his arm for her. "Yep, but maybe you should walk beside me? Just in case."

She smiled, linked arms with him and they continued down the sidewalk together.

"How was your day?" he asked, trying to compensate for his lack of cheer earlier.

"Fine. Busy. I um... I'm looking for a job, actually," she said uncomfortably.

"Why? Are you out of money?" James asked.

"Oh, wha', a woman can' work?"

James furrowed his brows at her, startled and more than a little confused. "What?"

"Chauvinistic pig."

"I didn't mean it like-"

"I'm kidding, stupid," Rose said, elbowing him.

"Oh."

She laughed. "No, it's not money. I'm jus' bored. Bored out of my mind," she threw her head back and groaned, then looked back up at him. "Don' you miss it?"

James swallowed, eyes locked ahead of him.

"Space, the planets, the monsters... all of it. I miss it," she said. When he didn't respond, she looked at him and frowned guiltily. "Oh... I'm sorry. I wasn't thinkin'."

"It's fine," he said, then plastered a smile on his face. "Just a matter of time before I get the TARDIS all growed up."

"Yeah," she said.

They were quiet until they got to the mansion. Jackie greeted them as soon as they had walked through the door.

"Hello, you two!" she said from upstairs. "Dinner's almost finished. It's so nice having a cook. It gives me time to do other things and take care of Tony." She descended the stairs, having wisely replaced the pumps for fluffy, white rabbit house shoes. She may have suddenly acquired a lot of money, but it didn't change her much, at least not in private.

"Like paint your nails?" Rose asked sarcastically.

Jackie scowled at her. "No, like learn a new instrument. I'm getting 'arp lessons."

Rose's brow lifted in mock surprise. "The harp? Are you kidding?"

"No, I'm not!" Jackie replied defensively.

"I can play the harp," James piped in. "It's a lovely instrument."

Jackie smiled at him gratefully. "It is. I like it. Now both of you get ready for dinner. Did Pete say if he'd be on time tonight?"

James shook his head. "He didn't say. Bit busy. Saving the world. You know how it is."

Jackie sighed and James could see the sadness in her eyes. This transition hadn't been easy for any of them. Jackie wasn't used to Pete's lifestyle, Pete was still slightly mourning the loss of his previous wife (also Jackie) and Rose was getting used to having two parents instead of one. Plus, she and James were earth-bound now, forced to take the slow path and neither of them had been prepared for it.

Dinner came and went and it was fairly enjoyable. James made efforts to be entertaining, telling them jokes and stories he had heard on his travels, but it hurt him a little to tell them. They weren't technically his stories.

They were the Doctor's.

He woke up early, like he always did, and started getting ready for work. He shambled down the hall, past Rose's bedroom and made his sleepy way down the stairs.

He managed to go into the kitchen, turn on the light and make himself a bowl of cereal before he saw him sitting at the table and the shock of it nearly made him throw his bowl over his shoulder.

Morgan chuckled. "You scare easily."

James gripped the bowl tightly in his hands, staring in wide-eyed surprise at Morgan. "How did you-"

"Never mind. We have exactly one hour before the portal closes. The portal's closing faster than anticipated. I'd suggest you get what you need."

"What, already? What are you doing here?"

"Getting you, obviously," Morgan replied, though his voice was strained with impatience. "We really don't have time for arguing, Doctor Smith."

"How'd you even get in here? Agents watch this house. Someone should have seen you."

"You forget I worked for Torchwood," Morgan said. "I know how they operate and can avoid them if I wish." He looked down at his watch and frowned. "You have thirty-eight minutes."

James stared at him for a moment, debating whether or not to argue or just chuck his bowl at him. He didn't confuse easily and he wasn't stumped easily, but Morgan kept catching him off-guard somehow and it was starting to get on his nerves.

Morgan sighed. "Please, Doctor Smith. The longer we wait, the longer your friends stay in danger."

Any cutting words or arguments he might have had just vanished and he felt himself calm down. A physical change must have occurred, because Morgan seemed to relax a little as well.

"Is there anything I can pack?" Morgan asked, looking around the lavish, marble kitchen admiringly.

James put the bowl down on the white marble island in the center of the kitchen and shook his head. "No. It shouldn't take that long. I'll be right back."

"Careful you don't wake the lady Tylers. Pete already left for work."

"He did?"

Morgan nodded. "It shouldn't take him long to realize I'm missing and even less to figure out where I'm going."

"Alright. Um... what do I tell them?"

"Who?"

"Pete and Jackie... and Rose. What do I tell them?"

Morgan gave an uncaring shrug. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"It's easier that way."

James nodded and hurried up the stairs, throwing on some pants, a white undershirt, blue button up shirt and a brown pin-striped suit jacket. After finishing the ensemble with his trainers, he grabbed up the prototype sonic screwdriver, thrust it into his pocket and hurried back down the stairs.

Morgan was waiting for him at the front door.

"Wait. I have tails."

Morgan blinked at him. "What?"

"I have agents following me."

"Oh! Tails. I see. No need to worry about them," Morgan said, waving his hand dismissively as he glanced outside into the darkness.

"What?"

"I've taken care of it," he said and before James could press further, asked, "Do you have a car?"

"No. I walk."

"Run, it is," Morgan said, opening the door. "Are you any good at running?"

"With these legs? How could I not be?"

Morgan smiled and then started off running.

He was fast, but James had done an awful lot of running in his time as the Doctor and -accompanied with his long legs- surpassed Morgan quickly.

Just before he could come around the corner and sprint for the portal at the bridge, he felt a hand tug at his jacket and yank him backwards. He floundered for a moment before managing to catch himself and look around.

Morgan put a finger to his lips and then pointed. "We've got two agents in the way."

Two Torchwood operatives (different than the ones he had seen yesterday) stood at either end of the bridge, looking around with eyes still adjusting to the early morning gloom.

James watched Morgan reach into his pocket and pull out a small metal box. Old instincts kicked in and James immediately grabbed his wrist. Morgan looked at him in surprise.

"What is that?" James asked.

"It's just a short-range stunner," Morgan said.

"Let me see it," James said.

He expected him to argue and couldn't keep the look of surprise off of his face as Morgan handed it to him without hesitation. He quickly replaced the expression with determination as he examined the object. Deciding that that was indeed what Morgan claimed it to be, he grasped it tightly, pulled his arm back and tossed it.

Having the impeccable aim that he did, he threw it straight at chunk of wood that was being used to keep an abandoned shopping cart full of empty cans from rolling down the hill it was on. As expected, it began to roll until it bumped into a trash bin, which tottered for a moment on the spot, before falling heavily onto a nondescript black SUV. The owner had apparently forgotten to put on the emergency brake, because it began to slowly glide down the hill, picking up speed the farther along it went.

The two agents looked round at the commotion and their eyes widened.

"The car!" one of them yelled in alarm and the two began running after it.

Morgan watched, mouth slightly ajar in fascination.

James sniffed and then got out from where they had been crouching. "Alright. Let's go."

"Incredible," Morgan said, standing and following James over to the bridge.

James felt his skin crawl as they approached the portal and he wondered how the two agents had managed to stand there all day without their skin just running off without them.

"So... we have to jump off the bridge, don't we?"

Morgan nodded. "Yes. Why? Afraid of water?"

"No. It's just that this is a new shirt," James joked and then got up on the wall of the bridge. Once he was standing, he looked down into the water. "There it is again. That urge to fall."

Morgan regarded him with interest. "Are you just going to stand there and admire the view or are you going to-"

James jumped, felt the tingling sensation increase exponentially for a moment, before disappearing under the feeling of water, enveloping him with its icy embrace. He wasn't anticipating the cold -it hadn't even occurred to him, although it should have, given that it was winter- and it nearly sucked the air out of his lungs. He heard the warbled sound of another body entering the water and felt more bubbles accompanying his own.

He was under for no more than three seconds before he felt hands grab hold of his jacket and begin to haul him up out of the water.

When his head touched air, he took in a big breath, the cold having stolen most of it away and looked up at the dim-blue sky of early morning. There wasn't any significant change that he could see other than that there wasn't a blimp in sight.

He let the hands drag him to shore and settle him down against a wall, then watched as two men did the same with Morgan, though he appeared to be helping them more than James had been able to.

For a moment he just sat, catching his breath and working to get his body temperature warm again. He took the chance to get a good look at their rescuers.

Five men in total, all of them looking very thuggish, mean and big. Two of them were bald, while the other three had military-style haircuts. All of them were muscular, the brawny kind that could pummel iron with bear fists, but only in short, intermittent bursts. They all wore dark colors and blacks.

Morgan stood, squeezed water out of the sleeves of his long coat and then shook his hair out. "Excellent! Right on schedule. How are you feeling, Doctor Smith?"

"C-cold," James replied through chattering teeth. As if his words were a cue, one of the men handed him a wool blanket, which James immediately wrapped around his shivering body, hugging the blanket close.

Morgan laughed, taking a blanket from one of the men and wrapping it around his shoulders as well. "Doctor Smith, these men are helping me find the Doctor. Don't be intimidated by their appearances. They go for the tough look to hide their gentle, teddy-bear personalities."

James laughed, started to get up and stopped when one of the men held out a hand. He took it and he was practically pulled off his feet as the man helped him to stand.

"Easy, Mr. Cambell. I doubt Doctor Smith wants to loose his arm because you were trying to be polite," Morgan said.

The man, Mr. Cambell, nodded and looked at James. "Do you need another blanket? That one is soaked through."

James shook his head. "No, this will do."

"Alright, let's get a move on, shall we? I don't want to linger here for too long. We'll do introductions on the way, eh?" Morgan said.

The five men led the way away from the bridge, walking down the street with cautious glances and then turned down into an alley where a black van was waiting.

James frowned at the sight of it. "I don't suppose you have a Mystery Machine or something?"

Morgan looked back at him with a confused expression. "What?"

The side door swung open and three of the five men hopped inside.

"Maybe something a little less intimidating," James suggested.

Morgan laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. We're trying to keep a low profile. Come along, Doctor Smith," he said, getting into the van and holding out his hand in a come-hither gesture.

James hesitated. His instincts were screaming at him to turn around and go back through the portal, but he couldn't leave if his companions were in danger. He tried to think through it logically.

"Mr. Gates, we don't have time for this," one of the men said in agitation.

"Patience. Come on, Doctor Smith. We don't have the time to spare." His hand remained outstretched.

The five men looked very nervous and impatient, continuously looking around and then down at their watches.

"What's the hurry?" James asked.

"Time is of the essence," Morgan replied. "And I doubt our arrival has gone unnoticed."

James sighed. He couldn't stall anymore. He needed to make a decision.

"Mr. Gates, the reports were confirmed," one of the men said, a finger pressed against his ear, where an earphone undoubtedly sat.

"What reports?" James asked.

"The Silence has made the Jones' family their first target," Morgan said. "We should have a few days before they make their move." He looked out of the van and shook his hand firmly. "And we really don't have time for this. Either get in, or go home. I'll do this with or without you."

James sighed resignedly and got into the van. The two other men followed in after him, one in the back and the other in the front seat. Once everyone was inside, the van began to move.

After they had been driving for a few minutes, Morgan began introducing him to the men. "Doctor Smith, this is Mr. Dickson, you've met Mr. Cambell, Mr. Thomas, Mr. Freeman and Mr. Nigh."

"Hello," James said, wiggling his fingers in a wave. "No first names?"

"Can't use first names. We have two Mikes. Gets too damn confusing," Mr. Nigh (the man with the earphone) said. James noted he appeared to be the least friendly of the bunch, his face seemingly stuck in a perpetual sneer.

"So I call you Mr. Nigh?"

"I don't really care what you call me," he replied irritably.

"Manners, Nigh," Morgan said severely.

Nigh swallowed and shut his mouth.

"Alright. Um... so what's the plan now?" James asked.

"Now we get you somewhere secure and try to contact the Doctor," Morgan said.

"I could do it from here, I think," James said. He had felt something as soon as he had passed through the portal; like a little snap of psychic electricity clicking on. It had come so strong that he was almost certain he could hear the TARDIS faintly humming in his ears.

Morgan shook his head. "If the Doctor is alive, then I don't want to expose the fact for everyone to see. We'll go somewhere he will feel comfortable revealing himself."

That sounded reasonable, but the little nagging feeling at the back of his mind never left as they drove quietly, the van swaying and bumping its passengers the whole way.

"You know, you should really think about investing in seat-belts," James suggested. "Safety first and all that. Do you know what would happen if we crashed right now? Especially at these speeds. Sixty is a little fast, don't you think, Dickson? Even for the outskirts of the city-"

"How did you-" Dickson blubbered. Dickson appeared to be fairly even tempered and probably the most willing to follow orders blindly.

"He's very clever," Morgan supplied.

"-I'd be crushed by Thomas," James continued, as if no one had been talking, "Freeman and the back wall would sandwich Morgan and crush him, too. Freeman would get a nasty case of whiplash and probably break his back and right arm. Cambell would fly through the front windshield -assuming its a head-on collision- probably dislocating Nigh's shoulder. Nigh and Dickson would be best off though... because they're wearing their seat belts-"

"Would it shut you up if we traded seats?" Nigh asked through gritted teeth, turning around to give him an irritated expression. James determined that Nigh was likely one of the most influential of Morgan's group. Not because he was more intelligent than the others, but more likely because he was the only one willing to speak his mind.

"No, thanks. I'd rather not have my shoulder dislocated."

Morgan, who seemed only entertained by the conversation, goaded James to continue, "So you'd rather be crushed?"

"That's not ideal, either," James said with a little shrug. "I'd rather have Dickson's seat, but since I don't know where we're going, that's probably not going to happen."

"We could put you on the roof," Thomas said, following Nigh's lead. He was a follower.

"Probably," James said. "I'd break less bones that way."

Morgan laughed. "Remind me to get some seat belts installed."

Cambell looked at him, but didn't say anything. Cambell appeared to be Morgan's right hand man, as he was the one Morgan most often addressed. He also appeared to be the most intelligent of the group (discounting Morgan himself), quietly watching, listening, and thinking.

James tucked away the information he had gathered for later use.

The whole trip was becoming more and more foreboding, despite Morgan's attempts to ease his mind. First there had been the thugs, then the black kidnapper van, and now they had come at last to an old, abandoned warehouse. Things just kept getting better and the nagging got intensely worse.

They hopped out of the van one by one and headed inside, each of Morgan's "friends" or whatever they were carrying long, heavy-looking black, plastic boxes that had been stashed under the seats.

"What's in those?" James asked.

"Equipment," Morgan replied. "Come on. We'll set up and then get started."

James frowned, stuffed his hands into his still-damp pockets and followed them inside.

It was an unusual warehouse, to say the least. It was domed like aircraft hangars and was made primarily with concrete. There were four entrances on each wall, the walls themselves lined with barrels that smelled distinctly of explosives. In the center of the building were two armored vehicles. Two of the walls had ladders leading up to small alcoves, which were hidden in the amidst the shadows. The only thing that wasn't ominous were the chairs lined up near the center of the room in front of the two vehicles. Beside them stood a desk with a cellphone and a complex-looking computer.

"Nice fortress," James commented.

Morgan laughed. "This doesn't make you think of home?" he asked as he walked across the room, the spurs on his cowboy boots clinking as he walked.

"I don't have a home," James said, "So, no it doesn't. Where do you live? Must be a rough neighborhood."

"This is it," Morgan said. "Well, more or less. Home usually has the same layout, although the specific place might be a bit different."

James' frown deepened and sighed. "You're making this really difficult for me."

"Difficult?" Morgan asked.

"To believe you," James said.

"Then why do you?" Morgan asked calmly as he sat down in one of the chairs.

James shrugged. "Your devilish charm?"

Morgan smiled widely and again James was reminded of a shark. "No, really. I want to know."

"Are you saying I shouldn't trust you?"

"No, I'm not saying that. But I didn't give you much reason to. I had no proof. You had nothing to go on but my word. So why did you trust me?"

James looked down at the floor, considering the question. "I... wanted to believe you."

Morgan's brow raised in interest. "Go on."

James sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You were convincing. It seemed plausible. And I wanted..."

Morgan waited patiently.

"I... I wanted to be... important. Helpful. I wanted to come back."

"Interesting," Morgan mused, drumming his fingers slowly on top of the armrest of his chair. "Do you feel helpful?"

"Not really," he said, swaying on his heels, "There's a lot of doubt though. I'm getting great big heaps of that."

"I can't prove it to you, Doctor Smith, at least not until someone's died and neither of us wants that to happen."

James rubbed a hand over the side of his face and took a step closer. "See, you keep saying that and something keeps nagging at me."

Morgan sighed. "Like I said, I can't prove it to you."

"Well, you can help me believe you."

"Oh? How would I do that?"

"I want to go see Martha. Or Jack. Either one will do."

Morgan shook his head. "Doctor Smith, I'm trying very hard to keep your arrival here secret. If the Doctor's enemies find out-"

"I trust them with my life. They wouldn't tell anyone I was here."

"That's extremely-"

"I really don't care. You want my help? Fine. But before I do anything, I want to make sure that I'm not-"

A loud beeping suddenly resonated through the building and James saw the eyes of Morgan and the others go to the computer. James followed their gaze, but it gave him no clues as to what was going on. He turned back to Morgan, who was smiling again, except this one was far too pleased and it made James feel extremely uneasy.

"What's that?" he asked.

"That's my psychic-barometer," Morgan said. "It tells me the levels of psychic energies in the vicinity. It's been steadily increasing since we got here."

Realization suddenly dawned on James' face. "I did feel him when I got here. And he felt me. Which means-"

"He's looking for you. And by the looks of it, he's very nearly found you. We have about fifteen minutes before he shows up," Morgan said. "I had hoped that would be the case. Looks like I don't need you to call him after all." He stood up from the chair and locked gazes with James, who returned it as steadily and calmly as he could manage.

"You already knew he was alive. Which means you lied to me. Which means you probably lied about my friends. Which means this was a trap."

"It wasn't all lies, honestly," Morgan said. "But then the best lies are built on the truth."

James' jaw stiffened in anger. His muscles tensed further when he heard a gun click.

"Sit down, Doctor Smith," Morgan said. "The Doctor is in."