Sorry for the slight delay. I'm not exactly sure how to continue this story from here, so expect another one, which will probably also be due to school and GISWHES. (I know it hasn't started yet but my team ...)

Lots of love, as usual, to my reviewer, Kaldi97 and Lara, my beta.

Chapter Five

"Thought she didn't sleep," Rhys muttered, casting a sidelong glance over at Luke and Jenny, the latter who, after a discussion over what they would do if they had found the wrong Amy Pond, had fallen asleep with her head on her friend's shoulder, her long blonde hair falling across her face, the (by now slightly tattered) picture of her father clutched tightly in her hand.

"She doesn't, normally," said Luke, also glancing at his friend. "But she hasn't slept much in the past few days. Excited about Torchwood, I suppose."

"It won't do her any good," said Rhys suddenly. "Torchwood."

"What's wrong with it?" he asked in surprise.

"Everyone died," was the blunt answer. "There used to be a lot more of them. They all died. Too young. Gwen was the only one who survived, and that was luck."

"Jenny won't die. She's not human. She regenerates. She changes. She'll keep on doing that, and leave all of us behind," just like her father, he added mentally. He did not resent her for this. She could not help it, of course. But he remembered how his mother had told him of the Doctor, and how she had so wished for him to return, some day. And he did. But he didn't even know she was dead, and he certainly hadn't turned up for her funeral, which he could have easily attended, giving the fact that he possessed a time machine.

"She'll get along with Jack, then," said Rhys eventually, to break the silence.

"Yeah."

Thus ensued another silence, which was eventually broken by Jenny stirring. She yawned as she straightened up, blinking several times before she asked in a sleepy murmur, "Are we nearly there?"

"Yeah," Rhys replied. "Where is it they live again?"

She held the slip of paper in her hand out for him to read.

"Ten minutes," he promised.

"Good," she muttered to herself, pulling on the soft fleece she'd been using as a blanket and fixing her gaze determinedly on the road ahead. She would find her father, eventually. She just had to keep looking.

Ten minutes later, the pair of young adults (or that was how it appeared), jumped from the lorry, thanking Rhys for the lift and assuring him that they would not be long.

"What number?" Luke asked, as the crossed the street.

"Uh … seven."

"It's up here," he pointed. Jenny marched determinedly towards the dark blue door and rang the doorbell, Luke trailing along in her wake.

It took a while for the door to open. A woman with long red hair stood in the doorway, looking expectantly between the two of them. When she spoke, it was with what Jenny had by now come to recognise as a Scottish accent.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Luke, this is Jenny," said Luke with a smile, before Jenny could even open her mouth.

"You're Amelia Pond, aren't you?"

"Yes," said the woman slowly, seemingly surprised as to how they knew her name. "Call me Amy … have we met …?"

"No, but I think we've got a mutual friend," said Jenny, with a wry smile.

Amy nodded, evidently understanding. "Right, come on in then."

They followed her along a hall and into a bright and roomy kitchen, where a (just opened, by the look of it) bottle of wine and glass were sitting on the kitchen table.

"Sit down, would you like a glass?"

"Uh …"

"No, thank you, neither of us drink," said Luke politely.

Amy made a 'suit yourself' face and sat down across from the other two, pouring herself a generous glass of wine and taking a gulp before she spoke again.

"Well, what's your deal, then?"

"Sorry?"

"How do you know the Doctor?" Amy rephrased. "It doesn't seem to me like you travelled with him. I supposed you just met him the once and decided to look for him. I know the feeling."

"Well, actually …"

"My mother used to travel with him," said Luke, frowning. "And I've met him a few times. Though not the new him. My friends have, though."

"The new him?" Amy repeated, looking puzzled. "Oh, his last regeneration, you mean."

"Yeah," Luke nodded.

Amy turned her eyes on Jenny. "Well?"

"He's my dad," she said rather quietly.

Amy had chosen the wrong moment to take another drink of wine. She choked, and slopped quite a lot of the red liquid down her front. Cursing, she rose to find a cloth. Once she had returned to her seat, and dried up as much of the mess as she could, she stared at Jenny for a full minute before saying, "Are you serious?"

She nodded sagely.

"I thought, maybe … when I asked him he definitely avoided the question …" she frowned, and shock spread across her face. "Am I a grandmother?"

"What?" Jenny asked, surprised at this new piece of information. Luke seemed just as taken aback, his mouth slightly open. "You mean you're River'smother?"

"Time travel," Amy waved it away. "She's not your mother, then?"

"No. I was created by a machine. Dad thinks I'm dead, maybe that's why he never mentioned me. I've never met the new him, or River."

"Well, she pops round every so often. I'll tell her about you … oh …"

The sound of a car engine purring broke her off.

"My husband, Rory," she said to Jenny and Luke, just as keys rattled and the front door opened.

"… Hello," said a man with short brown hair, a bag over his shoulder, undoubtedly Rory, standing rather awkwardly in the doorway. Then he said in a loud whisper. "Amy, who are these people and what are they doing in our kitchen?"

Jenny laughed, smiling at Rory. "I'm Jenny; this is my friend, Luke."

"Rory. Lovely to meet you. But what exactly are you doing here?"

"I've been looking for my dad," she said.

Amy smirked and stood from the table. "I'm going to get changed," she kissed her husband's cheek. "Good luck."

"Good luck with what?" he called uselessly after her, before sighing and pulling his bag from over her shoulder and hanging it up.

"How are we supposed to help you find your dad?" Rory asked eventually, once he had sat down in Amy's vacated spot.

"He's the Doctor," said Luke this time.

"Of course he is."

Rory was taking this much better than Amy had done, at least until he, too, realised the possibility that Jenny could be is granddaughter.

"I'm a generated anomaly," she said, before he had even opened his mouth. "A machine created me. I got shot, and dad thinks I'm dead."

"Oh," said Rory, seemingly unsure what to say next. "So have you met River?"

"No, not yet."

"Well, I'm sure she'll go and visit you when she finds out you exist … where do you live, by the way?"

"Cardiff."

"Wales," he seemed surprised. "You don't have an accent."

"I've only been there for a week and a half."

"Well that explains it, then. Where did you come from?"

"Adria."

"Never heard of it. Is it nice?"

"Oh, yes, it's lovely."

They sat in a rather awkward silence for several minutes before Amy returned in a brand new sweater, sitting at the table and grinning at everyone.

"So, Luke, tell me about yourself."

"Well, they were nice," said Jenny, around a half an hour later, when they were back in the lorry with Rhys, Jenny having an extra three numbers on the back of the drawing of her father (Amy and Rory's mobiles, and their landline), and Luke looking slightly abashed at the interrogation he'd gotten, despite the fact that it was Jenny who had been Amy and Rory's almost-granddaughter.

"And just a little overbearing."

"Well, you don't have to deal with them anymore, if you don't want to. Provided I can get lifts up and down."

"You could take driving lessons," Rhys suggested. "As long as you don't let it slip that you're three."

"I'm not three, I'm twenty-one!" Jenny said, pretending to be scandalised.

"That's the spirit, kiddo."

She smiled.

"Oh lighten up, Luke!" she added, giving a dig in the ribs with her elbow. "You never have to see the Ponds again, how's that?"

"It's not them, really, it's just that …"

"What?"

"They think they're going to travel with him forever, your dad. Every single one of the people he's travelled with does. But they never do, and it never ends well. Mum's dead, Rose is on a parallel world, Martha's scarred for life and Donna doesn't remember."

Jenny shot him a look.

"It's like Rhys was saying about Torchwood, when you were asleep. Everyone died, except Gwen. What's going to happen to us?"

"We'll just have to live every day at a time," said Jenny eventually. "And whatever happens, happens."

She glanced down at the back of the piece of paper, where Martha's, Amy's and Rory's numbers stared up at her. What was Luke saying? That she would be better off without her father, and these people, in her life? That she should abandon all attempts to find her father, and leave Torchwood? That she should lead a normal life?

She glanced at him several times during the journey home, but never caught his eye or talked to him.

No, of course he wasn't saying that. He couldn't be. How could they, of all people, lead normal lives?

I looked, but I couldn't see a number on the Ponds' door. Since I don't have the Christmas episode at my disposal, I'm not sure if it shows up there. I thought that seven was a good number. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. Also, those two episodes were amazing, weren't they? My reactions mainly comprise of OSWIN and TRICEY. I can't believe the hate Moffat's getting, and that he deleted his twitter account. He may be a heart-ripper-outer-and-stomper-oner, but he's a perfectly good writer. And CAITLIN. I can't believe that anyone could be that horrible!

I dunno why I put Luke being all pessimistic and over thinking all of a sudden, he just went that way ... huh