Chapter 20

The sound of the Imaging Chamber door opening reached the time travelers' ears, breaking the somberness of the conversation. A moment later, Al Calavicci, decked out with all manner of 'anti-metaphysical weapons,' appeared.

Al looked at the two men. "Okay, I know you said I needed to come in here, Sam, but you of both look like you're ready to fall on your proverbial swords." He glanced around and noticed a long rapier blade displayed on a wall. "Or real ones, as the case may be."

Sam looked at his buddy of many years, about to comment, but was stunned silent. A moment later, he began laughing, unable to speak, and was hardly able to take a breath.

The Doctor turned upon hearing Sam's laugh and gazed upon Al with a raised eyebrow. "Going to a Halloween party as Peter Vincent, the Great Vampire Killer?"

Al looked at Sam, who was laughing so hard he was holding his stomach and trying to catch his breath with dismay. Responding to the Doctor's statement, though, he provided, "Hey. One can't be too careful in situations like this." He paused. "And who's this Peter Vincent that everyone keeps talking about?"

"Obviously you've never seen the film 'Fright Night.' Marvelous film but I liked the remake better. David Tennant, Colin Farrell, cameo of Chris Sarandon. He was in the original one so I guess they're both lovely films..." He trailed off to examine the hologram's arsenal. "Let's see... defense against werewolves, vampires, zombies... I think you've been watching too much television. You're a hologram! And I seriously doubt that a Dragon will be affected by what you have in hand. More like you brought the ingredients for him to make soup out of you. A little wolf's bane here, a dash of garlic there, and viola!" the Doctor finished with a flourish.

Sam barely found his voice. "Oh, Al," he started, with laughter still holding him in its thrall. "This is extreme! Even for you!" He struggled to get control of himself, although every time he looked at Al the laughter began again.

"Yeah, well, keep laughing when I'm the only one not being eaten for dinner despite the Doctor's recipe," Al told them haughtily while glaring at the Time Lord, emphatically negating said recipe. "The only reason I'm even here was because of your letter."

"You got the letter!" the Doctor exclaimed, though it was already obvious that was the case with the Admiral's appearance. "Good man!"

Sam was suddenly pulled back to the seriousness of the situation. "You got the letter!" Then with equal confusion, he asked, "What took you so long to get here? It should have been an instantaneous appearance."

"Yeah, well... I sort of..." Al hesitated, scratching his head. "Well... there are ghosts here!"

"That's never stopped you before," Sam stated, thinking of the several times rather hinky things had happened on his leaps.

"Well, Ziggy sort of held up delivery."

"Ziggy, what?" Sam exclaimed. He figured his wunderkind had to have a reason. "Why?"

"Well... because of him." Al pointed to the Time Lord besides Sam.

"Me? What did I do?" The Time Lord exclaimed.

Sam shook his head. "No. I clearly indicated the letter was to be delivered when the Doctor and I were together after we had been contacted by the ghosts. Something else had to have happened." He looked directly at his friend. "What kept Ziggy from giving you the envelope earlier?"

"She didn't know what to do about the appearance of the project's new boss and the fact that he knew the Doctor."

Sam's jaw dropped. "The project's new boss? What the hell does that mean?"

The Doctor folded his arms, a serious expression on his face. "Who is he?"

Al looked at Sam first, ignoring the Time Lord. "I'm sorry, Sam. Things have happened and the government didn't want to fund the project at the level it needed even for basic operation. I had to find support elsewhere."

Sam blinked a few times. "They would have ended the project?" He paused, thinking. "But if they ceased funding, I'd be trapped without any way of ever coming home."

Al nodded and, with emotion in his voice, explained, "Yeah, Sam. I couldn't let that happen." He swallowed and took a deep breath. "So I turned to another organization. They're known as Torchwood."

"Torchwood," the Doctor growled under his breath. "You let Torchwood take you over." Fury blazed in his eyes as he took a menacing step towards the hologram.

Al drew himself up, his eyes narrowing. "Listen, buddy. Sam Beckett doesn't deserve to be left bouncing around in time and I'll work with almost anyone to get him home! Capice?" He turned to Sam. "Besides, Captain Harkness really is an honorable person. A bit strange at times, but I've learned to trust him."

"Harkness!" the Doctor exclaimed, taking a step back, stunned by his words. "Captain Jack Harkness? Pretty boy, chiseled jaw, brash attitude... that Jack Harkness?"

"Well, that description could describe a lot of men."

"Flirts with anything that breathes?"

"That's him!" Al agreed, nodding vigorously. He turned to Sam. "He didn't agree to fund the project until he knew the personal reasons I was so insistent. I can't leave you back here, Sam. I'll die before giving up on you."

The Doctor's eyes grew darker, if that were even possible. "After what Torchwood did..." he started. He turned to Al with a glare. "Oh, I want to have a talk with him."

Sam wasn't sure he liked what he was hearing and it appeared the Doctor was even more livid about the situation. Still, the fact that the Time Lord was about to go into battle with an eight foot or more lizard that would destroy Earth trumped his concern. Finally speaking up, he stated firmly, "And I'd like to speak with him as well, but we have bigger issues at the moment." Nodding towards the Doctor, he stated, "Take the psychic paper out and check to see if the writing is there again."

The Time Lord continued to glare at Al for a long moment before realizing that Sam was correct in his assessment. Captain Harkness would just have to wait for the fury of the Last of the Time Lords. Taking a deep breath to refocus his mind, he pulled out the paper as requested and looked at it with question before turning it towards Al. "See anything?"

Al breathed a sigh of relief. "Nothing. Maybe it doesn't work anymore."

Sam looked frazzled. "It has to work! If it doesn't, we won't know what they're trying to tell us!"

The Gallifreyan frowned. "The TARDIS must be blocking the reception," he supposed. "She is, after all, outside of time and space."

"Maybe we have to be in the house for it to work," Sam posited.

Al looked at his friend with trepidation. "I was afraid you might say that."

The Doctor gave him a firm look. "I can assure you that, in all of my travels, I have not once encountered people coming back from death in the form of ectoplasmic apparitions. These 'ghosts' are just another form of life. Now... shall we go talk to them?" Without confirmation from either Sam or Al, he started out of the TARDIS, leaving behind the sword and armour he had pilfered.

Sam turned to Al. "See, nothing to be afraid of." He started heading out after the Doctor.

Al turned his eyes upwards. "When you told him there'd be difficult leaps, did it have to be with extraterrestrial egomaniacs who dabble in metaphysics?" He then centered himself in the hallway of the inn. Seeing the men enter the house, he unconsciously fingered the crucifix in his pocket as he asked, "So, is the writing appearing now?"

The moment he entered the inn, the Doctor looked about to see if there were any indications of the ghosts, checking the psychic paper as he did so. "None yet," he answered Al. "But that doesn't mean anything. Just have to be patient." After a long moment, he frowned. Turning to Sam, he questioned, "Is it getting cold in here?"

The leaper nodded. "Yeah, it is. Like last night in your room."

"And this morning in this living room," the Doctor verified.

Al looked at Sam. "You mean those..." He looked at the Doctor, "...life forms that masquerade as ectoplasmic apparitions..." Looking back at Sam, he finished, "...are coming?"

The Time Lord was too focused to pay attention to Al's words. Walking towards the center of the room, he let his eyes move around as he spoke. "You were asking for me," he stated plainly. "I'm here." Looking at the paper again, he frowned slightly, finally seeing words written plainly there. "Prepare myself. For what? How?"

Al's curiosity got the better of him and he looked at the psychic paper for the reply. "You got a headache or something?" he asked the alien.

Sam blinked at Al's statement. "Huh? What are you talking about, Al?"

The Doctor's face paled at the words on the paper, swallowing tightly. "I can't," he whispered, his voice quivering slightly.

Concerned that the Gallifreyan's visage had suddenly become terrified, Sam asked, "What do they want you to do?"

"Oh, give me a break," Al groaned. "Are you a wuss or something? The ghosts want you to take two aspirins. Sheesh. I thought it would be something like... having to sacrifice yourself or something."

The Time Lord looked at Al with wide, haunted eyes. "Take two aspirins and never wake up in the morning," he commented darkly. Seeing the confusion on his companions' faces, he clarified, "They want me to take poison."

"Poison? Aspirin?" Al questioned.

Sam had listened to the back and forth. "He's an alien, Al. Totally different body chemistry. Aspirin could be a poison to him." He looked into the open room, hoping these beings could hear him as well. "Why do you want him to poison himself? You said it was to prepare? Prepare for what?"

The words changed to symbols of circles and lines in intricate complex patterns.

"Oh, great," Al moaned. "Now they're showing off their artwork!"

The Doctor's eyes widened as he saw the symbols, understanding the meaning of them instantly. "Give me aspirin!" he ordered Sam.

"I thought you just said..."

"In the kitchen, second cabinet to the right of the sink, behind the brown bowl with the yellow diamonds on it." Seeing that physicist was looking at him as if he'd lost his mind, the Gallifreyan stated firmly, "Just do it, Samuel!"

Hesitating for only a moment more, the leaper went quickly into the kitchen to retrieve the requested medicine.

"While you are there, see if Sally has ginger beer and salted nuts!" the Time Lord called out.

"Um... Right," Sam called back. He wasn't sure if the Doctor had lost his mind but he figured he needed to trust him on this one. After pulling the aspirin bottle out of the cabinet, he then went to the refrigerator and found the requested ginger beer. He looked around the cabinets and finally found a bag of almonds. Unsalted. "Doctor? No peanuts but there are unsalted almonds."

"Oh, what a time for her to go on that salt-free diet she was talking about," the Gallifreyan grumbled. Raising his voice, he called back to Sam. "I need something salty!"

Sam came to the door of the kitchen. "A Dragon's about to make its way into the world and you want snack food?"

The former rolled his eyes at him. "Just get me something high in protein and salt, will you?"

Al had centered himself in the kitchen. He looked in the refrigerator. "OOOOOOOO... Yuck!"

Sam turned around from looking in the cabinets for something that would address the alien's sudden strange cravings. "What?"

"They've got that awful stuff here." Al was making a face as if he was trying to get something off his tongue.

Sam opened the refrigerator. "Al! You're brilliant!"

The Gallifreyan called out from the other room. "Albert's brilliant? Are you sure? I don't use that word lightly, you know."

"Hey!" Al protested. "I can be brilliant, you know!" He frowned at Sam. "How am I brilliant?"

Sam quickly grabbed the jar of Marmite off the top shelf. "This stuff is really salty. Now we need something to put it on." He snapped his fingers, going to a cabinet he'd searched a few moments before. "Water biscuits are just the thing." Putting the almonds, ginger beer, aspirin, marmite and the water biscuits on Sally's tea tray, he went out to where the Doctor was standing impatiently. "Here you go."

"Put the lot on the desk and hand me the aspirin," the Doctor instructed.

"Okay," Sam said slowly. As he brought over the aspirin, he couldn't help but comment to Al, "And you thought my eating onions and Jell-O was strange when I was pregnant!"

"You ate onions and Jell-O while pregnant?" the Doctor questioned with a frown of curiosity. He shook his head quickly, waving his piqued interest away. "Never mind that, now," he told Sam, opening the aspirin bottle and shaking out two pills into his hand. He looked over at Sam again. "Pregnant? How?" He shook his head again. "No, not going into that," he stated firmly, realizing he was stalling to avoid what he had to do. Throwing the aspirin into his mouth and swallowing quickly, he paused for a moment to see if he felt anything. He then looked at Sam again. "I mean even if you leapt into a pregnant woman you couldn't... You're not related to anyone from the 51st century, are you?"

"All I know is that, somehow, I was pregnant. It was the strangest feeling. Mood swings and cravings. Speaking of which... why the strange choice of..." Sam stopped as he noted the Gallifreyan pale suddenly, a light sheen to his forehead.

The Doctor started to sway. He reached out for a chair to give him support. "Ohhhh... I don't feel very well. Not well at all." He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling nauseous, his head hurting. "I guess it's taking effect," he whispered, his voice quivering with trepidation. A sharp pain struck him between his hearts, causing him to hyperventilate. "Can't breathe," he gasped, his eyes snapping open. He blinked a few time rapidly and then suddenly his eyes widened in absolute terror. "I can't see! I'm blind!" His grip on the chair tightened as he felt his legs starting to give out on him. "Sam..." he called. "Sam... if this doesn't... if... tell Rose..." He didn't get a chance to finish the sentence as, a moment later, he dropped to the floor like a marionette whose strings had been cut.