The Tardis seems to have her own ideas about searching for answers...
In this chapter I envisaged the space bar where David Tennant's Doctor found Jack, and introduced him to Alonso, just before his regeneration...with a few of my own embellishments...
Scene 3
The Tardis landed with a rather undignified thump. Throwing both Clara and The Doctor to the floor.
"Where are we?" She asked, dusting herself off.
The Timelord, stood, stiffly and moved to the monitor.
"Well, it appears to be a space bar, on Olsen Three. Which is part of the Crab Nebula." He replied. Peering at the screen.
"Has the Tardis bought us here...or some other force?"
"I think it's The Old Girl, but I'm not sure why. She seems to have her own agenda.
Perhaps we should find out?"
Together, they headed for the door.
Everywhere was deserted, the Tardis had landed in a quiet corridor at the back of the complex. Conveniently out of the way.
Coloured lights thrummed and techno music played jarringly in the background. The vast open viewing platform, to one side, gave a vista of the nebula itself.
Stars were being born, before your very eyes.
The place was crowded, with all manner of beings; some silurians, a couple who were completely blue. A strange looking fishlike creature with spikes on its head and numerous others.
The Doctor, taking Clara's hand, weaved through the crowd, his eyes scanning the clientele.
Then he stopped abruptly.
On a bar stool, apparently chatting up a tall cat lady, was a male humanoid.
He was handsome, tall, and wore what looked like an RAF greatcoat from Earth's World War Two.
The Doctor came to his side.
"Hello Jack." He said.
The man turned, at the sound, his eyes travelling slowly across the Timelord's face, confusion seemed to gradually change to recognition...
"You?..." He said.
Several things then happened all at once.
'Jack' bought back a fist and socked the Doctor hard in the face, with a fine right hook.
Knocking him completely backwards. In seconds he was astride his chest. Hands locked around his throat, squeezing tightly.
Clara, with a fearsome yell, leapt onto his back...one arm locked around his neck, her left hand in his hair, pulling his head backwards, with a fist full of his locks.
"You bastard...they told me you were dead! And yet you're here...large as life. I'll fucking kill you myself."
He bashed the Doctor's head repeatedly against the floor.
Clara continued her onslaught, her fingers now pressed into his eyes, gouging.
"Get off him...leave him alone...Doctor...Doctor...!" She screamed.
Other hands came then, large and burly, pulling the man named Jack, backwards, from the prostrate Timelord.
Clara relinquished her grip and knelt at the Doctor's side.
"Are you okay? God, you're bleeding..."
The Doctor, held his jaw with his hand and wiggled it experimentally, wincing with pain. Blood trickled from his lip, and onto his chin.
"What did you do that for...?" Clara turned on the assailant, eyes blazing with anger.
Jack shoved off the hands holding him, roughly, and straightened himself.
"I swear to God, Frobisher...I'll kill you with my bare hands."
"Who?" Said Clara. " that's the Doctor...I don't know who you think he is...but he isn't!"
The Doctor hauled himself to his feet. Fingers still touching his lip.
"Well, that wasn't quite the welcome I expected!" He said.
Scene 4.
They were led to a booth, away to one side, watched warily by the rather tetchy bouncers.
The three of them sat, Jack glaring at The Doctor. Clara glaring at Jack. The Doctor looking confused, between the two of them.
A waitress bought a tray of hyper-vodkas.
"Why did you attack him like that? ...you idiot...you could have killed him."
Clara was furious.
"It's no more than he deserves...I was told you were dead." Replied Jack, turning from her to The Doctor.
"I'm not sure who you THINK I am...but I can assure you, I am The Doctor." He said, holding a handkerchief to his mouth.
"You don't look anything like...hang on...YOU'RE the Doctor?...THE Doctor?...you've regenerated?"
"Twice." He replied, curtly, dabbing his lip.
"Wow!...Shit!...you got old."
"Well, I WAS young...then I got old...but strictly speaking..."
"Save it. I don't need to know." Jack replied.
He turned to Clara, eyes travelling lasciviously over her form, eyes twinkling...
"And is this feisty young lady your companion now?"
"I'm not his companion." Clara snapped. " I'm his...I mean, we are..."
"Really?" Jack laughed, "what you...and HIM? You mean you're..."
"Excuse me!" The Doctor interjected. "I am here you know."
"And don't even think about going there...Jack,"
He added, as Jack reached to take Clara's hand to kiss, withdrawing it again quickly...
"Or it'll be me killing you..."
"Ha! Good luck with that!" He laughed heartily.
He slugged back his drink, and picked up another...
"I think we should take this elsewhere." He said, looking from one to the other, then at the bouncers.
"Good idea. The Tardis is out back. Come on...and bring more alcohol!"
Together the trio moved through the throng, towards the double doors.
Jack stepped inside the Tardis. His fingers brushing the hand rail, lovingly.
He looked up and all around, memories springing up, happier times...
"You've redecorated." He remarked, " I don't like it."
The Doctor frowned angrily.
"Well I do! Except there aren't enough round things...I like the round things."
Jack smiled, half to himself, half to The Doctor.
What an oddball this regeneration appeared to be.
"So!" The Timelord continued, clapping his hands together, "Frobisher? ...spill the beans!"
"Look in the Tardis Archive...John Frobisher, Permanent Secretary to the Home Office. 2009. Earth."
Jacks voice was hoarse, full of emotion, unsteady.
Clara watched him intently, trying to read that expression.
She leaned in between him and the Doctor as they looked at the screen.
A picture of John Frobisher popped up.
Clara gave a sharp intake of breath.
"Oh my God! Doctor! He has your face! Just like Malcolm Tucker."
Jack and The Doctor exchanged glances.
"That's extremely interesting..."