Disclaimer: Me no own. BBC no sue.

As you turn aside another page of the curious journal that you found in the Tardis Library, you find that the next page revealed is covered with some very odd stains. In the top corner of the margin there is a sentence scribbled in red marker. You peer at it curiously and find that it is some sort of warning and a memo rolled into one. It says: Note to self: don't let him eat the pancakes with the Kaverian jam. The cyberdines are infectious. Time Lord allergies. Not Pretty.

In the middle of the page, instead of a journal entry, there is a pasted in photograph of three people standing in front of a seaside promenade. You recognise the Doctor and the brown-haired girl that you now know is Sam, the author of the journal. The other person, a handsome, square-jawed man with black hair and sparkling blue eyes, is unknown to you. Unlike the Doctor and Sam, who are both dressed in 21st century fashion, the blue-eyed man's long military greatcoat looks more appropriate for the 1940s. For a second you wonder if he was perhaps an old time film star. Then you catch sight of the handwritten caption beneath the photo.

WARNING: The hot guy in the blue coat is Captain Jack Harkness, former conman, former time agent, current head of Torchwood 3 Cardiff. DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES ACCEPT HYPER-VODKAS FROM THIS MAN. HE IS FROM THE 51ST CENTURY AND HAS THE CONSTITUTION NECESSARY TO DEAL WITH THEM. YOU DON'T! Failure to heed this warning will result in public humiliation and the mother of all hangovers. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Entry 23:

Okay, so by this point the Doctor's dignity and general over-confidence in his own superiority (which he doesn't often put on public display, but believe me, it's there) had been severely shaken by one Ianto Jones, Officer of Torchwood Three. Which is probably why He-Who-Insists-He's-So-Much-Smarter-Than-Stupid-Apes walked straight past said Torchwood Officer and straight into the vault which the God Of Coffee had so helpfully opened, without saying anything.

We all followed him quickly and thus I got my first and to date, only, view of the interior of the Torchwood Vault. And I have to admit, the place kinda deserves that capital V. It is not just any old vault. It is a Vault. Big, dark and creepy, with rows upon rows of scary looking stuff in glass cases, not to mention the creepy living specimens in the big tank. Jack claimed they're actually deep sea fish native to earth and the Doctor agreed with him. I don't believe them. Those are some creepy fish.

Anyway, we trailed after He-Who-Rushes-Eagerly-Into-Scary-Places, who apparently knew exactly where he was going as he didn't hesitate once. I know Wil had said they'd done a scan of the Vault to find useful equipment, but I still find the fact that the Doctor didn't need to ask Captain Jack for directions even once highly suspicious.

So do I-

. Have you successfully gotten your mind out of the gutter yet?

Yessss. . .Okay, no.

Then get out of my journal.

Awww . . .

Out. Now.

You still haven't forgiven me for the Hyper-vodka incident, have you? You need to get past that, y'know? It's not like you were the only one who got in trouble. The Doctor wouldn't speak to me for hours. It was devastating.

It was what you deserved for being stupid enough to offer alcohol to a seventeen-year-old who has an annoyingly over-protective Time-Lord as her self-appointed father-figure. Now get lost.

Oh fine, Ms. Cranky-pants.

Okay, anyway, moving on. Eventually we stopped in front of a row of metal lockers. I think Jack knew exactly what was in them because he gave the Doctor a quick 'Are-You-Sure?' look. The Doctor just nodded, so Captain Jack shrugged and began to once again input numbers into a keypad. Figuring this would once again take a while, I yawned and sat down on the floor, ready for a long wait.

The locker door clicked open less than ten seconds later. Don't you just hate irony? Or is that Murphy's law? I get those two confused a lot.

Anyway, once Jack got the locker door open we all had a look inside. Both Gwen and Ianto went a little pale at the sight of the weird machine that was standing inside the steel box, which didn't exactly make me feel all sunshiney and happy either.

"Oh no," Ianto began, "Jack? Is that what I think it is? Tell me we're not going to use that again. You do remember what happened last time?"

"Yes, 'course I do," Jack replied, with a 'so what?' shrug.

Gwen chose to turn to the Doctor instead of Jack. "Are you insane?" she wanted to know. "You want to open the rift as well as the void? Are you trying to get us all killed."

"Of course not," he assured her with a big grin. "I have a perfectly good plan. We'll all be fine."

NB: Do not believe a word he says when he's grinning innocently and saying everything will be fine. He may not be lying on purpose, but 99% of the time he gets proved wrong. Things will not be fine. They will explode with worrying regularity.

Anyway, everyone else was getting all excited by this weird piece of machinery, which to me, looked more like some sort of demented play-doh tool than anything else. So of course I asked: "What is that?"

"It's the Rift Manipulator," Ianto explained, ever the information guru. "It can be used to, well, manipulate the Rift. But its results can be dangerous and unpredictable. Last time we used it, Jack died."

Which I guessed sort of explained why Gwen and Ianto were so horrified at the thought of using it again. Except. . . "Doesn't he do that, like, twice a week?" I pointed out, ignoring Jack's indignant "Hey!" in the background.

"Not like this!" Gwen said emphatically. "He was dead for three days!"

I blinked and looked at Jack. "Seriously? You died and came back after three days? That's very. . . biblical. I wouldn't let the Vatican hear about this if I were you. They might take it a little funny."

"No kidding," Jack groaned. "The last thing I need is to have another cult worshipping me. That was bad enough the first time."

Everyone stared at him.

"Don't ask," the Captain told us. "You really don't wanna know."

"Anyway," the Doctor interrupted, bringing our attention back to the situation at hand, "whatever problems you may have had with this machine in the past are moot. I can get it run smoothly, so there should be no danger of Jack dying. Theoretically anyway."

"You're not exactly filling me with confidence here Doctor," Jack said.

The Doctor waved a hand dismissively. "Barely a one percent chance of you dying Jack. Besides, it's not like it would be permanent."

"True," Jack admitted.

"Okay," I decided. "You're both crazy." I turned to Wil, who had been silent so far. "Look," I said, "you appear to have a drop of common sense. What, exactly, are you and the Doctor up to? I thought we wanted to open the Void, not the Rift."

"Yes," Wil said," but in order to hide from the Eaters that we are opening our own hole in the Void, we have to seal it inside of a bubble of Rift first."

"Right," I said, nodding as if I totally understood. "Hands up everyone who is still completely confused."


The Entry ends abruptly. Half the page is missing and the jagged edges of the top half are stained with some sort of sweet smelling red-brown substance that looks far too much like dried blood for your liking. You hesitantly turn the page.


Entry 24:

You know what would be really nice? If some people (who shall remain nameless, haha) would refrain from dropping their stupid alien jam sandwich on top of other people's property. It took me ages to clean it off and my journal is still going to smell of jam forever. Gah! Stupid Time Lords and their stupid randomly occurring lack of hand-eye co-ordination. (Honestly, how hard is it not to drop your sandwich open face down on someone else's dia- I mean, Journal. Definitely a Journal and not a diary. Yes.)

Anyway, long story short, despite the misgivings of Gwen and Ianto and the utter confusion of moi, Wil and He-Who-Insists-He's-Not-Certifiably-Insane convinced us to help them lug the Rift Manipulator back to the main boardroom of the Hub. (Okay, yes, being five foot three and not exactly muscled, I did not do much of the actual lugging. But I still helped! By, you know, holding doors and stuff.)

When we got back to the boardroom. . . well, there was still a freaking big hole in the roof. What, you were expecting it to be magically fixed? Also, there was no sign of the pteranodon. I wasn't sure whether that was good or bad.

Okay, so the Doctor and Wil start hooking the Rift Manipulator (which I'm gonna call the RM from now on 'cos it's shorter than writing the whole name out) up to the Hub's central computer. Y'know, that mutated digital offspring of a CIA operations room and a Christmas tree that's smack in the middle of the hub?

Or maybe you don't know yet. But since if you're reading this, then you're travelling by TARDIS, you'll probably get to see it sooner or later when the Doctor has to refuel again.

And once again, I digress. But anyway, Wil was pressing important buttons, the Doctor was waving around his sonic screwdriver, various lights were flashing and there were regular 'beep' noises. It all looked very technical and impressive. It also looked like it was going to take a while, so I decided to go in search of food. It'd been a while since I'd eaten anything that wasn't chips.

Now, don't get me wrong, the Doctor does make sure all his travelling companions get more than enough to eat, but he seems to forget that humans can't live on chips alone. (Okay yes, so technically they can, but those particular people are going to spend a fortune on paying doctors to treat their heart disease later in life.) Anyway, when he does bring you somewhere that serves something besides chips, the food tends to be a little . . . alien, shall we say?

I mean, I do trust the Doctor and I know that he'd never let me eat food that might poison me. But really, chips or multi-coloured crab meat and orange waffles?

Is it too much to ask that we go out for a steak once in a while?

I swear there was a valid point in here somewhere. . . Oh yeah, my point was, that since there wasn't much for me to do and since I was currently on earth and probably in the vicinity of recognisable food, I should take advantage of that fact. So I did.

Of course, Captain Jack wasn't about to let a civilian wander around the Hub unsupervised, friend of the Doctor's or no, so Ianto came with me. Not that I had any problem with that. Having a very polite hot guy show me around wasn't exactly the most terrible fate ever.

Surprise, surprise, though the Torchwood staff look as if they exist solely on coffee, they actually have a kitchen which Ianto showed me to and told me to help myself while he made more tea and coffee for everyone. So I busied myself with a nice sandwich and waited either for Ianto to finish with the drinks or for the inevitable explosion that occurs whenever the Doctor gets involved in anything remotely technical.

Impressively enough, Ianto managed to finish making the drinks before the inevitable explosion made the shelves rattle, and I was able to saunter back into the boardroom with my mug of tea in hand. Coffee-God hadn't been at all perturbed by the explosion and calmly handed around the coffee from his little tray.

Gwen and Jack thanked him, though Jack was a little strained sounding. The Doctor swiped the other mug of tea on automatic. There was a shocked look on his face which always meant trouble. I turned my gaze in the direction he was looking and blinked in surprise. The RM had apparently been successfully hooked up to the main computer. One of the computer screens was active, and the Doctor was staring at it. I stared too.

There was the Doctor on the screen. He was wearing a blue pinstriped suit and standing behind a table with some very complicated alien looking technology on it. Next to him was a blonde woman a few years older than me. The Doctor (that is, the one standing in Torchwood Hub with us,) was staring at them in shock. "Doctor?" he asked, in a disbelieving tone. "Rose?"

At this, I narrowed my eyes at the couple on the screen. (And they were a Couple, believe me. They were giving off that kind of vibe. And considering I was feeling it from the other side of a screen, I kinda dreaded to think what it might be like experiencing it first hand. I cannot stand lovey-dovey people. They make my brain hurt.

So, blonde girl was apparently Rose. And from the Doctor's tone of voice this wasn't any Rose. Nope. This was the Rose, to whom there had been occasional cryptic references followed by the Doctor looking miserable before changing the subject completely. I have to admit, I wasn't that impressed by what I saw. She looked, y'know, normal.

I was a little confused for a second, wondering what the Doctor was so shocked about if he was just watching some old home video with Rose in it. Upset, yes, that I could understand, but why he was so shocked I had no idea.

At least until the Doctor on the screen caught sight of me and gasped "Sam?"

"What?" I said in surprise, as at the same time, a voice exactly like mine said, "yes boss?" from the other side of the screen.

The owner of the voice then moved into view and I'm pretty sure that at that moment my expression mirrored the Doctor's perfectly. Because I was staring at a brown haired girl with glasses, about the same age as Rose. And she had my face.

So yeah, 15things is back. Reviews?