A/N: Sorry this update took so long. Between school and work, I haven’t had much free time, but I have written out two entire chapters (as rough drafts) and part of a third, not to mention an outline for this particular serial. I don’t think any of you realize just how big that is. (Michael: That’s what she said.) I never write outlines. I’ve always worked with my vague understanding of the plot and whatever immediately comes to mind. This story requires much more planning than I’d ever imagined, though, if only to organize my random epiphanies and timelines. I think this serial’s going to be a lot of fun, though. It includes three of my favorite things (one of which I can’t mention without spoiling the plot.) Anyway, I really hope you enjoy it, because I certainly know I will.

“Why do they always try to kill us?” Pam asked rhetorically, flopping onto the captain’s chair. Working the controls as best as he could, Jim shrugged.

“How was I supposed to know he was their king? He wasn’t wearing the customary knickers,” he shot back, more than a little sheepish. “Besides, we’re fine now.” She raised her eyebrows.

“Fine? They nearly burnt us at the stake, Jim! On what planet does that constitute as fine?” Now he smiled, twisting a knob while pushing a lever on the other side of the console with his foot.

“Well, on Argres, during the winter festivals...” he trailed.

“Smart aleck.”

“Always,” he replied cheerily. “You get used to it, anyway.”

“The being burnt alive or just the constant threat of a slow and painful death because you accidentally mistook a king for a commoner and violated a cardinal social law?”

He paused for a moment, seemingly deep in thought, and then answered, “Both.” He grinned over his shoulder at her, working the mishmash assortment of controls expertly. She just shook her head at him, wrinkling her nose as she caught a whiff of her clothing.

“I reek,” she said, the scent of wood smoke lingering in her nose. Sure, it was nice for a fall barbeque, but not when it only brought up memories of almost becoming the barbeque. She had to get rid of it now, or it’d be all she smelled for a week. “I’m going to go change.” Standing up, she left the console room to Jim’s assurance that he’d be around the TARDIS, which wasn’t all that reassuring. The halls wound like a labyrinth, except that a labyrinth usually had some sort of rhyme or reason. As far as she could tell, the corridors shifted as need be, usually by the will of the TARDIS herself. The ship was compliant with her passengers’ needs, for the most part, unless she was making a point or playing around. But things were often where they were supposed to be, at least according to the general layout Pam had become accustomed to.

Down the hall, out of the console room, were two immediate rooms: a full bathroom and a library, both one of many. Go a bit further down and to the left, and you found their bedroom, another bathroom, a living room, a two-story closet, an art studio, the lab she had found the sonic lipstick in and a small medical room. If you went to the right, you came upon a kitchen, two bedrooms, a library, a dining hall, a half-bathroom, a roller disco and a garden filled entirely with topiary shrubs. Follow either of those halls on in the many ways they branched off and you’d find, in no particular order (she was less familiar with these rooms the deeper in she got), more than thirty more bedrooms (she’d lost count somewhere between the second or third kitchen and an aviary), a cloister, three more libraries, a room Jim had called the Zero Room, six gardens, one of which was devoted solely to bananas and celery, a batting cage, another lab, three doors which refused to open, a small movie theater, four bathrooms, a pool, a laundry room and what seemed to be a candy store. Needless to say, she didn’t make her way back there very often.

She made it to their bedroom without any trouble of the directional or life-threatening sort, which was a refreshing change after going out for smoothies and almost dying. Looking back on it now, it was still just as terrifying, but there was a little bit of excitement, too, as she was reminded of by the steadily fading adrenalin high. It was surprisingly easy to get used to, all the running around and nearly being flame broiled. She didn’t think it’d ever get less exciting, but she could live with that. Fancy New Beesly liked some excitement, anyway.

It was hard to believe it had only been a week since he saved her in the office parking lot and this all began. Going by the long way, as Jim called it, only four days had passed at work, but with all the time spent on other planets, in other times, or just in the Vortex, it had been more than a week. They always came back to their lives, mostly to rest after an adventure-filled day or two on a slew of planets, but also because leaving the normalcy completely behind would be hard. They both had families and lives that they weren’t about to abandon, no matter how thrilling the galaxy was.

Still, even their regular lives had changed. Nothing at work carried the same depressing, soul-sucking weight it once had, but a new, listlessness-lite version of it. It was nice knowing they could escape the fluorescents after five and see some real sun in a sixteenth century summer. Her clothing choices, whether for work, a date or just hanging around and doing nothing, now had to do more than just be comfortable and look good; she had to be able to run, jump, swing, tackle and do the whole assortment of things she never thought she’d have to do in them. The reality of how different things were becoming only truly hit her a few days after their trip to Lios. A simple trip to a bazaar on Terschia had gone completely awry, ending with their madcap dash back to the TARDIS to escape the flurry of icy arrows. It was only after they’d safely dematerialized that he’d posed the question.

“So, you think we ought to pop back into our lives, maybe work a day or two?” he posed, playing mindlessly with the console. The TARDIS hummed pleasantly, floating aimlessly in the Vortex while they rested.

“How long have we been doing this?” she asked, mentally trying to tally the numbers. It was hard to keep track of time between interplanetary gallivanting and wandering around the ship. She was beginning to learn the layout, but she knew there was still so much more to it, and she liked to explore. So far, she could easily find two bathrooms, her bedroom, a library and a kitchen.

Jim wasn’t going to miss the beat when it came to time, though.

“Two days, fifteen hours, twenty-seven minutes and thirty-three seconds,” he stated without batting an eyelash. Admittedly, these random bursts were still a bit weird to her, but she knew it was just the Doctor shining through. “Forty-six seconds now, Beesly.” She glanced up at him, eyebrows pushing together.

“And you’re sure we can go right back to the night we left?” His lips twitched with a smile.

“I show you the far reaches of the galaxy, times unseen by modern eyes, and you want to know if I can land in the proper time?”

She raised her eyebrows.

“I was nearly flash-fried on our first off-planet trip because you accidentally landed in a Liosian summer instead of winter.”

“It was at night.”

“It was over a thousand degrees out there.”

“One thousand and fourteen point two,” he replied, earning himself an uninterested look. With a small smile on his lips, he put his arm around her waist and added, “Besides, what’s a life without adventure?”

“Not ours, that’s for sure.” Unable to keep up the sore facade with him, she gave him a smile to match his own. “I would like to stop by my place, though. It’d be nice to pick up some more clothes if we’re really going to be doing this for a few days at a time.” Knowingly, he nodded.

“Yeah, you’ll want to grab your own stuff. I’ve never got an exact list of everything in the wardrobe, but I know some of it is pretty strange. Having your own clothes will be nice, anyway.” She smiled.

“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to sit down with my boyfriend and watch a movie, too.”

“What, is the real thing not enough for you?” he replied, pretending to be hurt. “Is this really so boring that you need stylized Hollywood action as a substitute?” She rolled her eyes, cracking a smile.

“I’d just like to spend a quiet night on Earth, not fearing for my life, if that’s alright with you. C’mon,” she cajoled. “We can go back to you place, rent a bad action flick and eat popcorn.” Despite her smile, he didn’t seem as enthused, though not for an apparent lack of trying; she was quickly frowning. “What’s wrong?” He shook his head.

“Nothing. It’s just–I’m not exactly getting my deposit back, am I?” Pam’s eyes widened with realization.

“Did Dwight really do that much damage?” Lips pursed, he nodded.

“Tore the doors off the hinges, broke all the appliances, threw food all over the walls and carpet, and basically did everything he could to ruin the place. Needless to say, the truth wouldn’t exactly fly, so I just told the building manager that a bunch of my friends got drunk and invaded the place. I’m lucky she likes me, otherwise I could be facing charges. She just wants me out by the end of the week.” Her eyes widened as he spoke, mouth slightly open.

“Oh god, Jim–I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t–” He shook his head.

“It’s not your fault.”

“But I’m the–”

“It is not your fault,” he stated authoritatively. “This kind of trouble just follows me around.” At least she could appreciate that. In their few days exploring space and time, they’d managed to find more trouble than either had in their whole prior lives.

“But where are you going to stay now?” she asked worriedly. He only grinned.

“I figure I’ll park her on a rooftop one night, maybe a street corner the next,” he replied, patting the console affectionately.

“But won’t she get noticed?”

“Nah. She has perception filters. Humans see what they want to see, and look over what they don’t, especially if they don’t expect it to be there, and a perception filter helps promote that.” She nodded; the concept made sense, even if there was a good chance the science behind it would liquify her brain. Still, a section of her mind, somewhere between normal Pam and Fancy New Beesly, was taking hold, and it had an idea of its own. A shy smile grew on her lips, eyes drifting to the other side of the room as the words tumbled out of her mouth.

“You know, if you wanted to, you could park her at my place. I have a spare bedroom that’s big enough for the TARDIS. Then you could still live in her if you wanted to, but you wouldn’t have to worry about being in the open, filters or not. And you could always come into my place if you wanted out for a while or if you ran out of food or something. I have a comfy bed, too. I mean,” she hastily added, confidence fading as a blush crept onto her cheeks, “if you want to. If you don’t, it won’t hurt my feelings.” He stared at her with raised eyebrows; she could feel it.

“I’d love that,” he answered without hesitation. Her eyes snapped to him, surprised. What she saw wasn’t the shock she’d expected, but a huge grin engulfing his features. And a little shock behind his eyes, but not too much; he was getting used to a bolder Pam. Her subsequent smile could only possibly be outshone by the one she’d displayed after Jim had asked her out, and even then it would’ve been a close competition. To say that it was brilliant was an understatement; it possessed a luminescence all its own, warming him wholly like only the heart of the TARDIS could.

“Great,” she said, eyes never leaving his. “Then let’s go home.”

Though it seemed like ages ago, and not the week-plus-some that it had been, the very thought of it still filled her with happiness. Jim and the TARDIS now peacefully resided in her apartment, the former sharing her bed each night they stayed, utilizing of the wide array of services it offered. It had been a short jump from there to sharing one bedroom on the ship, and the TARDIS didn’t argue. It meant a happy Doctor and one less file on her mainframe.

Going too quickly had crossed both of their minds, but it was dismissed on both counts. Considering how long they’d been dancing around each other in the ballroom of friends that could be so much more, a month and a half was more than enough. Now that they had finally gotten the timing right, they wanted to enjoy everything about it.

Meandering to the closet within the bedroom, she pulled off her t-shirt and grabbed a new one, almost amazed by how frighteningly easy her life had fallen into this order. She wondered if it would ever become mundane, and then they landed on a new planet and found new trouble, and she found her answer. This was her life, this sundry, ever-changing life of distant stars and hostile aliens, with the occasional friendly group that wasn’t out to conquer the world through macadamia nuts.

They spent day or two puddle-jumping the universe, maybe a bit of rest in the Time Vortex or her apartment, a couple days of working, and then it was back to the beginning. Itchy feet, thanks to the Doctor, ensured that they never stayed in one place for too long. Two days on the slow path seemed like torture to him, and adding work on top of it made it double punishment.

Still, with well-established lives like theirs, they couldn’t just abandon everything. People would notice them, or at least her, returning forty, fifty years older. Pretenses had to be upheld.

It wasn’t all bad anyway, she thought as she looked between her pairs of jeans. The days seemed a lot more bearable when she knew they were going to seem a movie on Trivecta IV afterward, and the TARDIS was being good to them. She always popped in just after they had left, which was an apparent rarity for her. Jim mentioned overshooting their destination twelve hours short of a year once, forcing him to explain to his companion’s mother where they had been for the missing year.

When she’d asked why they couldn’t just go back and make up that year, he’d explained something about establishing a personal timeline within an area and not being able to interfere with his own history unless he wanted to deal with major paradoxes. That made sense to her, really; time didn’t work like it did in Back to the Future, no matter how interesting it was. Changing an event sort of ripped time open, unless it was a natural change caused by extraordinary events. Just because she understood it, didn’t mean her brain didn’t hurt thinking about it, though.

Slipping into a pair of comfy jeans, which happened to be very good for running away from giant bee men in (she wondered what the company would think of that testimonial), she exited the bedroom and made her way to the console room. Jim was still there, effectively doing the same thing he had been, just in a different place with different controls. When she entered, he looked up, smiling.

“So home?” he proposed again, fiddling with some dials as he looked her over. Even in jeans and a t-shirt, she looked amazing. This life really brought out her true radiance, something the artificial light sucked out of her.

She grinned at him.

“That sounds great. My own bed would be nice tonight.” Jim grinned slyly.

“It is pretty comfortable.”

“Feather top.”

“Doesn’t squeak too much.”

“I change the oil every three thousand miles.”

“But I think my favorite part is the company. Warm, doesn’t wiggle, likes to curl up next to me.”

“So you sleep with a dog.”

“Far from it. The most gorgeous girl in the universe shares a bed with me.” Already controlling her laughter as best as she could, a smile broke across her features, making it even harder not to laugh.

“She must be one lucky girl.”

“And I’m one lucky guy. Took me a long time to get a hold of her, and I’m not letting go any time soon.” A blush crept across her cheeks, tinging the edges of her smile a rosy pink.

“I don’t think she’s going anytime soon, either. She knows a good thing when she sees it, even if it takes a while.” He pulled her closer, an arm around her waist and a smile on his lips.

“Good, because I don’t think I’m willing to let go.” Leaning in, he met her lips with his own, a steady pressure meeting between the two. Fires burned in that space, so infinitesimal in the scope of the universe, and all the room they needed right now. It lasted only a moment, but if they had anything, it was an endless supply of time for more moments like that. Pulling back, Pam smiled without control, lost in the dregs of fire still on her lips.

“So,” she started, “home?” Smile matching hers, he nodded.

“If we can ever get around to it, yeah.” His arms moved from her waist back to the console, resting on handles and knobs. She drifted back wordlessly, content to let him work his magic with the ship. He moved around the controls in his unpredictable pattern, only stopping to look at her, a twinkle in his eyes. “You know, you could always sell your place and live in the TARDIS full time. You could even get homelessness benefits.” She wrinkled her nose, making a face.

“Ugh, and be like Creed? Don’t think I haven’t noticed that he’s always the last one to leave a few nights every week, or that he keeps an inflatable mattress under his desk. No thank you. I’ll stick with the two homes I have now.” He gave her a playful shrug.

“If you want to, I guess. I just thought you were open to new ideas.” Now she was smiling, a bright, toothy grin full of mischief.

“Of all people, you should know how open I am. Unless you forgot what happened under the Freyallite eclipse...” Oh, he was grinning now.

“How could I forget? I was never quite sure what the qwi’mrok was until we landed under that cycle. I mean... wow.” Eyebrows waggling, she smiled.

“Oh yeah. I think you get my point.” As if listening in for the right moment, the TARDIS shook violently, sending the couple tumbling. Jim managed to hastily pull himself up to the console from the floor, pulling a display his way.

“What the...” he muttered, eyebrows knitting together. Another quake racked the ship, sending previously liberated pieces of machinery to the floor, but this time Jim and Pam were prepared. Jim clutched the console with all his strength; Pam wrapped her arms around the closest metal banister and held on for dear life. The engines were at full power now, whirring away madly.

As the more violent rocking passed, the pair did their best to stand up amidst the uneven tremors, and Pam looked up at Jim quizzically.

“What’s going on? Some sort of turbulence in time-space?” she asked, a slight joking tone to her voice. Something like this had happened to them once before, tossing them to the garden planet Malir. What had began as a nice, if not accidental, trip to the amazing botanical zoos had quickly devolved into busting an illegal drug organization that was growing Vraxoin in the ‘closed’ exhibits, culminating with her hanging off the bottom of an escaping ship and Jim being held upside-down by the organization’s guards, who turned out to be living plants. It had all been fine in the end, as she was finding out it usually was, but the thrill of the moment was enough to make you think you weren’t going to get out of this one. Never once did she believe there wasn’t a way out, though. She believed in Jim and his ability to pull through.

Battening down for another round of rumbling, Jim smiled slightly as he stretched to pull a lever down.

“Sort of like turbulence, yeah. The fabric of time-space isn’t always smooth. It’s got bumps and potholes like any other road. This, though,” he added, “this is a bit different. The Time Vortex actually seems to be pulling us somewhere on it’s own.” She furrowed her brow.

“Does that happen often?”

“Oh, from time to time,” he replied, slamming a few buttons and levers down. Instantly, the cabin stopped shaking, lowering instead to a minor vibration. She joined him at the console, eyes on a screen that swirled with circles and curlicues, the only script the TARDIS wouldn’t translate for her. Gallifreyan, Jim had said, the writing of the Time Lords.

“Are we there?” she asked.

“Yeah,” was his simple response.

“So where is ‘there?’” His eyebrows knitted together, glancing to the monitor.

“Chicago, 4694. We’re in a small park a block off of Michigan Avenue.” He turned to look at her, smiling brilliantly. “Want to go check it out?” A smile to match his adorned her features.

“Absolutely I do.” Taking her hand, Jim whisked her out of the ship and into the city. Warm light hit their faces as they stepped out onto the well-kept grass, still damp with the last bit of morning dew. The sun streamed between the buildings, casting a bright glow on the metallic structures. Pam had never been to Chicago–Roy wasn’t big on traveling–but from what she’d seen, it hadn’t changed much in two and a half thousand years. The buildings were a few hundred feet taller and infinitely more futuristic, but the layout seemed the same. Tall peaks poked around the shorter buildings, some of which were still dizzying heights. Store fronts lined the roads, advertising almost everything she could think of, and few she couldn’t. People populated the sidewalks, unfazed by the apparent rush of everyone else and the assortment of sounds that resounded between the weathered but majestic buildings. The biggest difference had to be the cars racing above them, stopping sporadically under some unseen influence.

Jim smiled at Pam as she marveled at the looming city around them. He’d forgotten how stunned companions could be by their own future. It was all old news to him; he knew how and when Earth ended, but they didn’t. They still carried the awe of where their civilization would be in two, three, four thousand years. Seeing them so happy over something he considered so trivial made him happy too.

“Are you going to stare all day, or do you want to explore and find out why we’re here?” he asked, squeezing her hand. This seemed to wake her up, as she smiled at him.

“It’ll find us, won’t it? It always does, somehow.” Tilting his head in acknowledgment of the truth, he smiled, and she continued. “I think we should wander around until it finds us. Until then, I vote we get something to eat. We never got to finish our meals, seeing as we were being chased off by the King’s guard.”

“Good times,” he murmured fondly, eyes drifting across the sky until they fell back on her. “Well, I s’pose you have a point. Those xeracakes weren’t very filling, anyway.” He smiled, eyes flashing with excitement. “C’mon. If I’m right, and I usually am, there’s a great café down the road if you’d like to go.”

“I’d be delighted.” Trying their best not to trample the foliage, they made their way out of the park and onto the busy sidewalk. Being midmorning, the streets were filled with all sorts of beings making their morning commute. Pam felt out of place very suddenly, dressed in a jacket, tank top and jeans like many women from her time would be. On alien planets, dressing like this was fine because she was already alien. When surrounded by other humans, most dressed in ways starkly different from her own, she felt awkward.

Sensing her discomfort, Jim squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“Don’t worry about it. Lots of people now dress like you do. They just think of it as classical.”

“So I’m a relic now,” she muttered as they started walking. “Great.” He laughed, placing a kiss on top of her head.

“It’s not like that. Fashion is different now. As long as you like it and it works on you, people generally don’t care.” Worries eased, she quirked an eyebrow and deftly avoided a strange woman with orange eyes coming the opposite way on the crosswalk.

“Someone’s been brushing up on their Cosmo,” she joked. “I’m impressed.” He smiled, shrugging.

“Just a basic knowledge of history. The Individual Revolution was a big event. A bunch of people got tired of being told what and who to look like, so they launched a campaign to bring down the unrealistic ideals of the fashion industry once and for all. In the end, they won over the public and ushered in a new age of acceptance. Nowadays it’s okay to be who you want to be, from a member of the cult of Cthulhu to a pansexual that’ll hit on anything with a biosign. ‘Course, that means that Jack isn’t quite as unique in his own time as he is in ours, especially after three hundred more years of progress. In our time, though... Poor Cardiff never saw it coming.” He smiled reminiscently, and Pam raised an eyebrow.

“This Jack guy seems to be a big part of the Doctor’s past,” she commented. “Feel free to tell me who he is any time.” Stopping, Jim winked.

“How about while we eat?” he proposed, nodding his head toward the building they’d stopped in front of. She smiled.

“I think I can manage that.” Hand in hand, they entered the café, a cozy room packed with random tables and chairs. The only light was from the rising sun, but it lit things up well enough. Jim expertly made his way to the back, guiding Pam through the eclectic sets of furniture with ease. As he ordered breakfast for the both of them (he knew what she liked), she glanced around the comfy establishment. A few patrons sat here and there, one behind a newspaper with moving pictures, another gently sipping tea while staring out the window. Hand-painted pictures adorned the walls, no real rhyme or reason to their themes like the rest of the café. It seemed like the sort of place she could get used to.

“How long has it been here?” she asked as he picked up their plates, giving their mugs of coffee a weary look. Distractedly, she grabbed them and followed him to a nice green table in the front corner. Setting the food down, he smiled at her.

“About four hundred and seventy-eight years,” he answered plainly. “Should be here at least another two thousand and fifteen, if I remember right.” At her slightly amazed look, he simply shrugged. “What? Popular places can last forever. You should see the Mall of America these days.”

“Maybe we can go there sometime. Imagine the Nordstrom shoe sales,” she said, garnering a shudder from him.

“I’ll take the King’s guard any day, thank you.” She laughed, crunching into a piece of bacon.

“So who’s this Captain Jack?” she asked after a moment. “He sounds interesting.”

“To say the least,” he chuckled. “He was a 51st century con man we met back in the London Blitz. Joined up with us until the incident with the Bad Wolf.” His eyes dimmed a bit, remembering this sad past that was and wasn’t his. “Went to work for Torchwood for a while after that, then helped Martha and I with some trouble which will technically never happen. We did a lot together throughout the universe. He’s great with gun–you should see where he can hide one–and clever too. More of an action man than the Doctor usually. A real flirt, too. If it moved, he was all over it. Probably one of the flirtier types, even for his century.”

“You forgot devilishly handsome,” a smooth voice added from behind Jim. Pam looked up to see a tall man behind her boyfriend, smiling to show his dazzlingly perfect teeth. In fact, everything about him seemed perfect–sculpted body, angled cheekbones, black hair that wasn’t long like Jim’s, but not crew cut, either, twinkling eyes, disarming smile–everything screamed ‘I make women swoon without even trying.’ Pam imagined he’d make a good subject to draw.

Turning to his old friend, Jim beamed.

“Good to see you, Jack. How long’s it been?” Jack raised an eyebrow, still smiling.

“In this body or just chronologically? Because I think I met the fourth you while guarding someone on the starship Empress. Didn’t talk to you, of course. Can’t interfere with timelines.” Jim nodded.

“What’d you think of the scarf?”

“A little gaudy, but it worked well on you then.” He winked. “Would’ve been long enough to tie you to a bed with.” Smile breaking past her lips, Pam saw what Jim meant when he said that Jack was a flirt.

“And in this incarnation?”

“Some time back in the 37th century.” It was Jim’s turn to raise his eyebrows.

“So this isn’t the first time we’ve met, I guess,” he said. “I mean, you obviously know who I am. You wouldn’t chat up a total stranger like this. Well, you would but not like this, like we are now. That’d just be weird.” Jack grinned, a sparkle in his eyes.

“You’re right, this isn’t our first time,” he said coyly. “That was somewhere on the fourth moon of Rycin in the third century. Finally got around to buying you that drink.” Pam, eyes wide, looked between the two guys for signs of deception. Jack smiled normally, while Jim kept stoic; Pam blinked away the sudden onslaught of images flooding her mind, despite the fact that they were sort of hot. That was still just too weird, whether he looked like Jim or not.

“Anyway...” the brunet man finally interjected, none too obviously. “This isn’t the first time you’ve met me as me.” Jack nodded.

“Pam too,” he replied, finally acknowledging her. “Lovely choice, by the way. I always like seeing you find a good companion. Even better when she’s dateable, too.” He looked to her, grinning and holding out his hand. “Hi. Captain Jack Harkness, all yours.” Pam shook his hand, but he pulled it closer for a kiss on the back; Jim snorted at both the gesture and Jack’s last statement.

“He’s all yours until something else living goes by,” he muttered, not without good humor. Jack just smiled.

“Why limit myself? A guy’s gotta keep his options open,” he replied, nonchalant. “I imagined I’d see you here, though. This whole thing seems right up your alley.” Jim leaned closer to the man, brow furrowed.

“What thing?” Now it was Jack’s turn to furrow.

“Wait, you don’t know why you’re here?” Jim shook his head, and Jack took a seat, setting down the tray of coffees he’d been holding.

“We were actually heading home for a while, but the TARDIS pulled us here. We figured we’d have breakfast before trouble came calling.” Jim’s eyes lit up. “What exactly is happening here? And what are you doing here? I thought you were sort of a permanent fixture for Torchwood.”

“Still am. I’m here to pick up coffee for my team. With no Ianto, coffee’s sort of become my duty. Can’t brew it quite like he could, though. The team’s in Chicago on security detail for a Kerfaldan scientist who’s here for the big conference this weekend. I assumed that’s why you were here too.” While Pam watched them interact, she munched on her breakfast, just as curious as Jim was.

“A big conference? Huh. Some sort of scientific breakthrough or something, right?” he posed, an inquisitive look in his eyes. “I don’t remember anything special from this year, but I can’t remember everything, can I?” Jack raised his eyebrows.

“Since when? You’ve always been a know-it-all.” Jim shrugged at his old friend’s brazenness.

“Gimme a break. I’m getting old, you know.” Jack snorted, derisive.

“You’re old?” he asked rhetorically. “My two thousand, eight hundred and fiftieth birthday is this year. Don’t tell me you’re old.” After everything, Pam broke in now.

“Are you really that old?” Jack nodded. “So you’re an alien, then. You look really human, though.”

“It’s because I am,” he replied, smiling proudly. “Born and raised in the Boeshane Peninsula. One hundred percent pure grade human, at least as human as a human could be in the 51st century.” Pam accepted this, already knowing that humans spread across the universe as soon as they could, intermingling with more than a few races along the way.

“Is that why you’re so old?”

“Nope,” he said simply. “My long life and enduring good looks are a gift from an old friend. It’s all that I have left of her, so I don’t think of it as a curse anymore.” His voice was somber now, eyes downcast like Jim’s. “If I concentrate, I can feel that golden little thread of her inside me, and then I knew she’s never really gone, no matter how dead they said she was or how gone she eventually became.” At Pam’s questioning look, Jack just shook his head. “You and the Doctor started traveling in July 2007, right?” She nodded. “Well, something big happened earlier that month. You’ll probably never hear about it from your government–they’re very good about covering this stuff up, no matter how bumbling they seem sometimes–but it took away many loved ones. She was one of them.”

“But she’s so very alive,” Jim interjected. “Just not in our time, on this Earth.”

“At least you finally found her,” Jack said. “The universe couldn’t keep you apart forever.” Jim gave a small smile.

“I know.” He looked at Pam. “You should have seen his–my–grin when she finally walked back onto the TARDIS.” He sighed. “Best day of my lives.” Pam smiled sardonically.

“Thanks,” she replied dryly. “Good to know I’m important.” He leaned across the table and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

“You are important,” he said. “You’re important to me. It’s just hard keeping the Doctor and Jim separate sometimes. He knows you’re the most important girl in the universe to me, but she’ll always be his soul mate. I know how he felt about her, can feel what he felt for her, but I feel the same way for you. You just have to bare with me. Trying to be separate from and one with the Doctor is hard. Weird, too.”

“Weird is fine. Life would be boring without weird,” she said, smiling.

“Amen,” Jack added. “Without weird, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Which brings us full circle,” Jim said. “What’s this big science conference about? Warp 31 engines aren’t due for another few years, and that big ruckus about the cure for the common cold-completely fake, by the way,” he added for Pam’s benefit, “was a couple of years back, so what is it?” Jack grinned.

“That’s the thing. No one will say anything. Everyone has a theory, but there’s nothing official. All we have to go on it that it’ll change the view of death forever.” Jim sucked in a long breath through pursed lips, leaning back in his chair.

“That’s never good.”

“Why?” Pam asked. “It sounds exciting.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it will be,” Jim replied, “but for all the wrong reasons. Whenever someone says they’re going to change something forever, bad things happen. Forever is too long a time for a single change to endure.”

“Don’t bad things just follow you around?”

“No matter where I go,” Jim answered cheerily. “Trouble knows where to find me. Doesn’t matter where I go–parallel universes, E-Space, JC Penney’s–it’s always there. Makes life interesting, you can’t deny that.” Both Pam and Jack nodded, knowing full well that traveling with the Doctor automatically made life an adventure. One step into the TARDIS and suddenly Perafolan warlords were chasing you down and you didn’t stop running from there. “And where would we all be without that bit of trouble?”

“Answering phones for a dead-end company.”

“Conning more civilizations to death, and dead by now.” Jim nodded vaguely.

“I’d be selling paper and not really making any difference,” he added. “Trouble’s what brings us together, pulls us apart and binds us forever.” He grinned a thousand watts, standing up. “What do you say we go find it? Jack here’s obviously our sign that something’s going on.” Grinning, Pam and Jack joined him in seeking the inevitable, breakfasts forgotten. They forged their way confidently out of the building, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk as Jim did. For a moment, he only glanced around, then, scratching the back of his head resignedly, asked, “Where exactly are we headed?”

P.S.: I’ve just realized how much I write Jim and Pam kissing. Huh. Probably some deep-seated emotional issue, but I’m going to blame it on how little we see it in-show. Yeah, that’s the ticket.

P.P.S.: Also, sorry for the lack of action. It was getting long (Michael: That’s what she said) and I’m getting tired, plus it’s at a good ending point. I promise more action later.