Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. If I did DoctorDonna would still be taking names and kicking Dalek ass! Damn you RTD! Damn you!

After getting back from Ancient Egypt and showering off the sand, you huddle up on the couch in your room. The Doctor is safely on the other side of the TARDIS doing maintenance so you decide to read more of the journal you found. Taking out the bookmark you left in earlier, you glance at the page. The writing is nearly illegible. As you read you discover why.

Entry 11: Arrival in Cardiff.

You know where I am right now, while I'm writing this? I'm halfway up a bloody tree! In bloody Cardiff! You know how hard it is to write in a tree? (Note to self: I now hate Cardiff forever and ever.) With Captain Jack 'Anything-That-Moves' Harkness sitting on the branch below me making dirty suggestions! My GOD that man is. . .

Anyway. . . Why, you may ask, am I up a tree while writing in my Journal? Long story short, because the Doctor is a twat. (But if you've been travelling with him long enough that the TARDIS let you find my journal, then you already know that!) Oh great, here comes the damn dinosaur again. Just great.

But I guess I'd better explain things a little more, so that you know what's been happening and why, if the Doctor says "Uh, I've sort-of misplaced the fluid links" you should just head back to your room in the TARDIS, lock the door, and make an effort to put a serious dent in the Ice Cream supplies in the freezer. Do not let the Doctor convince you to help him search for those blasted fluid links! Just don't. You'll be much happier that way.

All right, all right, better get on with the story. If you've been reading from page one and haven't just flicked open this journal at random, then you'll know that previously on yada, yada, yada, the Doctor and I had a run in with some shapeshifting aliens made of mud with one hell of a superiority complex who wanted to do they same thing they did every night Pinky! Try to take over the WORLD!

Er. . . anyway, that little mess had been taken care of, and our prospective conquerors had been shipped home by their more peaceable contemporaries and were now busy in the exciting world of intergalactic postcard marketing. Yay.

You may also remember that the whole mess had been started by the fact that the TARDIS needed mercury to lubricate the fluid links, without which, any attempt to travel in the vortex would have caused the universe's weirdest explosion. Plus, random bits of He-Who-Gets-Too-Much-Notice-From-Omnicidal-Maniacs and me would have been scattered throughout time and space.

(Parts of us might have randomly ended up on your plate just as you were about to have dinner. Think about that. Hahahahaha!!!!!) .... Jack is totally wrong. I did not breathe any of the bad gas. I'm behaving completely normally. Why. . . is. . . page. . . twisty. . . .-------

Edit: Sam will get back to this later. She's a little stoned right now. It's sort of cute. She keeps singing 'The wheels on the bus'. We used to sing that back when I was a little kid on the Boeshane Peninsula. Aww, bless. She's even doing the hand motions! I can't tell you how much I wish I had a camcorder right now! - CJH.

Entry 11: Cont'd

OK. Disregard the last few sentences there. I might have breathed in a little gas but I'm fine now. Really. Except for the stuck-in-a-tree-with-Jack part of the situation anyway. (Although I know some people who would love to be stuck up a tree with Jack.) Right, anyway, eventually we had gotten hold of some mercury, courtesy of Captain 'Casanova' Harkness. And then the Doctor had been poised at the TARDIS controls, ready to take us through time and space! Except, well, I was hungry so I expressed a desire to go to a chipper first.

So, y'know since I had sort of done most of the work and saved everyone from alien conquerors while the Doc was out cold in his pod-thingy, the Doctor agreed that we'd go to the chipper down the road first. This turned out to be a major mistake. Sitting down to eat chips leads to talking. Which leads to stupid suggestions that we should pop around to Cardiff to thank Jack for helping us. I'd only met him for about two minutes before the Doctor pushed me inside the TARDIS and decided to head off. So I was curious, you know?

Anyway, turns out, Jack travelled with the Doctor a while back, 'before satellite five'. No, I don't know what that's all about. He-Who-Keeps-Altogether-Too-Many-Secrets wouldn't tell me. Apparently Jack now has a tendency to poach the Doctor's companions, so the Doc wasn't keen on going to Cardiff in case I decided to stay and work for Torchwood.

Important Note: Despite the fact that Torchwood is now run by Jack, the Doctor still can't say the word without looking bitter. From what I've managed to gather, it has something to do with the 'Rose-Issue'. You do Not talk to the Doctor about it. Ever. Okay? He can be surprisingly vindictive if you upset him. Talking about the 'Rose-Issue' will upset him. Guaranteed.

Anyway, I assured the Doctor that I had no intention of leaving the TARDIS, and working for Torchwood would still be working. For wages. Not just yet thank you! After I said that the Doctor cheered up a bit, and said "Why not? It'll be good to catch up with Jack. And I'd like to have a word with Gwen Cooper, wonder if she inherited anything else besides looks?"

"Er yeah, sure Doctor. So are we going or not?"

We did go to Cardiff obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't be stuck up this stupid tree listening to Jack sing 'The Hedgehog Song'. He's totally sober and gas free by the way. Apparently he just feels like singing. Anyway, there we were in the control room, the Doctor running around like mad, using his hands, feet, and occasionally the top of his head to trip various switches and levers. And then something starts to go wrong. The TARDIS started to shriek. Honest to God, she sounded like metal tearing in two.

The second this happened the Doctor said "Oh no, no, no, no, no, no! Sam, hold on tight. Emergency landing!" Hah. It was more of an emergency crash if you ask me. I'm still feeling a bit sick from it. As soon as we were on the ground safely the Doctor started cooing at the TARDIS, asking her what was wrong, and whacking various things with his hammer.

Well, we had managed to get to Cardiff. Just outside the millennium centre in Cardiff Bay. I staggered out of the TARDIS to be sick and was followed moments later by He-Who-Can't-Pilot-His-Own-Ship-For-Beans. According to Mr. Walking Fire Hazard, when he'd put the mercury in the fluid links (long grey cylinder thing which he was currently fiddling with) he hadn't recalibrated them properly. We'd been seconds away from being a TARDIS-Doctor-Sam kebab. Eurgh. . .

This information did not help me in my current status as the most nauseous girl in Cardiff. So I threw up. All over the Doctor's shoes. Again.

Turning the page, you notice that a series of notes on torn bits of paper have been stapled to the next page. There are two sets of handwriting. You recognise one of them as Sam's rather scrawly penmanship, and the other which is elegant cursive as belonging to Captain Harkness from the last entry. Curious to see why he is making extensive edits to the journal you continue to read . . .

Entry 12: Captain Jack, Joint Editor

List of things I hate:

1: Mud

2: Making-People-Crazy gas

3: Trees

4: Cardiff

5: Fluid links

6: Captain Jack Face-Of-Boe Harkness

7: The Doctor

8: Pterodactyls.

Edit: Myfanwy is a Pteranodon! And you don't hate me. Everybody loves me. It's the jaw line, you know. - CJH

Whatever Jack. If you want the right to edit the Journal of Things-That-May-Help-You-With-Life-As-A-Companion then you do not have the right to criticise my terminology. Got that?

Got it. And it's Captain Jack, thank you. By the way, when you use the term 'Companion'. . .

I don't mean it that way, Captain Jack Sparr- er, I mean Harkness. :P And . . . you watch Firefly? Really? I bet you have all the DVDs huh? Bet you're a Fillion-fan boy.

It's a good show, OK? And is this coming from the girl who watches Angel and Buffy religiously? Hmm? Don't you have a journal entry to be writing anyway? And I can't believe you just wrote that. Do you have any idea how many times I've heard the Pirate Joke already? Not Original! Y'know that joke would've made me kill Johnny Depp by now if he wasn't so darn hot. Mmm . . . Johnny . . . (To anyone reading this later, Sammy and I have to write down our conversation because it's hard to talk with a Breather Tube in your mouth. Damn gas.)

It's Sam. Not Samantha. Not Sammy. Just Sam. You call me Sammy again, you lose editing rights! And your teeth.

Sammi? ;)

No! And to answer the Firefly question I saw season 7 of Buffy-

Before you watched Firefly. Ahh.

I can't help it. Every time I see Nathan Fillion I think Preacher Caleb instead of Captain Reynolds. It creeps me out!

Alrighty then, back to explaining how Jack and I came to be stuck up a tree, which is being dive-bombed by a pterodac

----Pteranodon! ---

Fine. A pteranodon. Anyway, as you will recall the Doctor and I had arrived at Cardiff with a crash when the TARDIS's fluid links gave up the ghost. And after I'd staggered outside I decided to 'feed the fishes' as they say. Only, most of it ended up on the Doctor's shoes. Which was not good because he loves those shoes. Anyway, the Doctor gave a disgusted wail and ran back into the TARDIS to change his shoes while I continued to cough up.

So I'm standing there, doubled over when I notice a pair of military boots moving into my field of vision. Next thing I know a large pair of hands is holding my hair for me while I cough the last of the stuff up. Then I straighten up. And notice the (let's be honest) totally gorgeous older guy in front of me in period military dress. And he's just seen me toss my lunch all over the pavement. What a sophisticated second impression I'm making! Oh yeah, suggesting we go to Cardiff was a great idea. (If you don't notice the sarcasm here, then you're probably not human.)

I knew you thought I was handsome!

Uh Jack? Knowing that you're handsome and being attracted to you are two different things. Try not to mix them up. And no interrupting unless you've got something relevant to say.

Now then. There I was doing the great stare-at-the-ground-in-embarrassment manoeuvre when the Doctor, having changed his converse bounded out of the TARDIS and hugged Jack. Who hugged back very enthusiastically (If-You-Know-What-I-Mean)? And then he pointed out that the red converse didn't really go with the brown suit. The Doctor looked a little bit miffed and started muttering to himself that people with motion sickness probably shouldn't be on the TARDIS because they kept damaging his shoes.

So I decided to distract them before He-Who-Never-Loses-His-Lunch told Jack in great detail about all the other times that TARDIS travel had made me spectacularly nauseous and very unpopular with the local species. Lucky for me distracting the Doctor is pretty easy. When the earth isn't in terrible danger he has a shorter attention span than a toddler.

So I suggested that since we were in Cardiff and Jack was with us, that he give us a tour of his base. The Doctor wasn't too keen at first but Jack piled on the charm and eventually he agreed. OK. I've got to say this right now. Torchwood has the coolest and the most stupid entrance in the world.

--Stupid? Hey! Our lift rocks! ---

Uh huh, see what the Sir Flirts-A-Lot is forgetting to mention is that it's an invisible lift. You stand on a particular flagstone outside the Millennium Centre and next thing you know you're descending into Torchwood Hub. Very cool. Except now there's a great big hole in the pavement. One day someone is going to fall in and then there'll be trouble.

---That's what the retcon is for. ---

Uh huh. Jack? Does the Doctor know you're erasing people's memories?

---No. Let's keep it that way. ---

Er yeah anyway, we descended into Torchwood Hub and got a very nice bird's eye view of the place. And to be honest it's a rather dank, dark looking place. The main computer is impressive though. And the boardroom is shiny. The Doctor . . . didn't look impressed. He's sort of predisposed to dislike Torchwood though. Anyway, once we touched down on ground level, Ianto Jones entered carrying a tray with two cups of coffee for me and Captain-Harassment and a cup of tea for He-Who-Drinks-More-Of-The-Stuff-Than-The-Entire-Population-Of-China. And my GOD it was good coffee. From here on out Ianto Jones shall be known as the God-Of-Coffee.

---What about his tea making skills? They're good too. ---

Yes Jack, but God-Of-Coffee-And-Associated-Beverages doesn't sound as snappy. (One more thing about Ianto Jones. The lucky sod is dating Jack. And unfortunately for those of you who are interested, the Almighty-Coffee-God doesn't like to share.)

So, we all adjourned the boardroom to drink our drinks, (as you do) and the Doctor and Jack started to have some kind of conversation in a personal private code that I am not privy to, mentioning such things as 'Bad-Wolf', 'The Game station' and 'Volcano day'.

To keep myself from getting bored I engaged Coffee-God in conversation. He knows everything. I mean it. Everything. He is also really cute. But unfortunately for me my conversation with God-Of-Coffee was cut short when a loud alarm sounded. Jack-Of-Hearts jumped to his feet and yelled dramatically "That's the rift warning! It's active!"

The Doctor just sipped his tea and then looked up at Jack and said "Really? That's interesting."

Captain Jack Harkness reporting for duty! We'd like some reviews! And anything else you want to show me! *wink*

Author: Jack! Stop it!