Jack didn't sleep a wink for the rest of the night, even though the Doctor encouraged him to rest. Instead, he stayed close to the Doctor as he prowled the house, looking for anything that could be used to construct a quadrameter–a very crude quadrameter, the Doctor warned him.

"What are you going to do with it?" Jack asked as he held the stepladder the Doctor was standing on, which they'd found in the cellar.

"Well," said the Doctor. He steadied himself on the ladder and pointed his sonic screwdriver at the ceiling fan. "I hope we can use it to find the TARDIS. It'll scan for alien tech, and hopefully the only piece of alien tech around will be the TARDIS." One of the fan's blades came off and he handed it down to Jack.

"Do you really think we're on Earth, though?" Jack asked, laying the blade on the floor and accepting a chunk of the fan's innards.

"It looks like Earth," started the Doctor.

"But my vortex manipulator–"

"Says it's not, right. And it's not broken, I've checked." He wrenched another blade off the fan and handed it down. "I could use a thermionic valve. Let's have a look at that radio." He climbed down the ladder and hefted it off the table.

After a few moments in which the Doctor worked silently, Jack asked, "What if we don't find the TARDIS?"

The Doctor set the sonic screwdriver aside and tore the valves out of the radio with his hands. "We'll find the TARDIS. And Rose. Here. Make yourself useful." He handed Jack a pile of plugs.

They worked until morning, and by the time the sun came in through the front window, the radio, fan, icebox and vacuum cleaner lay in pieces strewn across the carpet, but the Doctor had finished the quadrameter.

It wasn't like any quadrameter Jack had ever used before–he had once owned a pocket-sized one but he had lost that betting on a klodd match. (He'd actually lost a lot more than his quadrameter, but finding another pair of trousers had been easy enough.)

The Doctor flicked a switch on the side of the quadrameter and a light on the top started to blink. "Right," he said, hefting it onto his shoulder. "Let's go." He thrust the quadrameter at Jack, who caught it awkwardly.

"Where are we going?" he asked, as he followed the Doctor out the door.

"Wherever the quadrameter leads us," he said, glancing over the shoulder as if he might be forgetting something. "We'll take the car." He strode out onto the driveway and pointed the sonic screwdriver at the driver's side door.

"You can drive?" Jack asked incredulously.

The Doctor looked shocked. "Jack, why would I be doing this if I couldn't drive?"

He opened the door and made to get in.

"Oh, no," said Jack, blocking the Doctor with his body. "You always drive. Here." He thrust the quadrameter at the Doctor.

"I always drive because I'm the only one who knows how!" the Doctor sputtered.

"Well, I can drive a car." Jack dug around in his coat pocket. "I think it's still in here. Look." He thrust a card under the Doctor's nose. "Captain Jack Harkness, authorized driving license."

The Doctor examined the card. "This is for military convoys." He smirked. "And it won't be issued for eleven years." Jack scowled. "But, I suppose I can make an exception just this once." He hefted the quadrameter under his arm and stepped out of the way. "Lucky for you, I hate driving stick."

Jack snorted as he got in the driver's seat.

"Oh, shut up," muttered the Doctor.

**

Rose hadn't intended to eat anything Robert gave her, but when he took the beans off the fire, they smelled so good and she was so hungry that she gave in. She was still wary about trusting him, though. He seemed like a nice enough bloke, but she couldn't forget what Jack had said about the Time Agency taking his memories. He never talked about it, but his reticence had given Rose an inherent distrust of the organization. Though she supposed there was nothing wrong with its members as individuals.

They sat in silence by the fire for a while. Rose hadn't realized she had fallen asleep until Robert was nudging her awake the next morning. She blinked several times before she remembered where she was.

"Come on," he said, without preamble.

"Where are we going?" she asked as she stood, stretching her stiff joints.

"I don't know," he told her amiably. "I've been walking for three days and I haven't found a thing. Besides you, of course." He grinned and dug around in his pack. "They always say the third time's the charm." He handed Rose a granola bar. "Breakfast."

Robert was really quite friendly, Rose realized, as they walked along. He was funny and engaging and he made the interminable time go by much easier.

"So," he said suddenly, after he had finished a funny story about his encounter with a space emu. "What's the significance of Bad Wolf?"

Rose had almost forgotten she'd reacted out loud when he had mentioned it to her. She grinned. "It means I can get back to my friends, to the Doctor and Jack." She turned, scanning the horizon. "We need to find our ship, though. It was… back that way." She pointed in the direction she thought she'd come in the previous day. She couldn't see the TARDIS but it had to be there. It couldn't just move on its own.

"I can use our ship to get back to them, I know I can. I've done it before." Her newfound confidence had put a spring in her step. What she, her mother and Mickey had done... it was all coming back to her. "Bad Wolf–it's like a connection between us. It's telling me I can get back to them!"

"How?" asked Robert incredulously.

"I don't exactly know," she said quickly, feeling a prickle on the back of her neck. "But… I just feel I can–does that make any sense?"

He shook his head.

"But I definitely can," she said firmly, and let the subject drop.

Unfortunately, after two hours, Rose's confidence was beginning to wane.

She couldn't remember how far she had come the day before–she'd gotten a rather late start; she had only had an hour or so of daylight before she'd run into Robert, which meant they should have gotten to the TARDIS within two hours, but somehow they hadn't.

"Rose," said Robert cautiously.

"It's here," she said fiercely. "It has to be. Where can it have gone?"

"But it's not," he said softly. "Look." He pointed. "You can see forever from here, you didn't come that far yesterday."

Rose closed her eyes, fighting back the hot tears. "They wouldn't just leave me," she said.

Robert sighed and shifted. "Come on," he said gently. "We'll go on in this direction. Maybe we'll make progress by nightfall."

Rose nodded and followed him, her head down. How could she get back to Jack and the Doctor without the TARDIS? But still… She took a deep breath, unable to escape the rhythmic repetition of two words inside her head.

**

"Okay, where did you learn to drive?" asked the Doctor, gripping the door handle, as their car careened down the deserted road. The Doctor wasn't sure how much the little car's transmission could take, and Jack's hands were definitely not at ten and two.

"Rah'hallora," said Jack proudly.

"But that's drag-racing!" exclaimed the Doctor.

"So?" Jack turned to look at him and the car began to drift to the other side of the road. "It's still driving." They came to a fork in the road and Jack braked hard. "How's the quadrameter?"

The Doctor pushed himself back from the dashboard and picked the quadrameter off the floor. "Left," I think. The light was blinking steadily. "Turn left. Use your blinker."

Jack smirked. "This car doesn't have blinkers."

They had been driving for almost an hour when the Doctor began to wish they could have landed after the invention of car radios."How about we play Twenty Questions?" he suggested. "I've got something."

Jack shrugged. "Is it bigger than a breadbox?"

The Doctor frowned. "I'm not sure, actually. Depends on what size breadbox it is."

"Is it found in a kitchen?"

"No. Well, yes. Maybe. If you've got one in your kitchen, it's found there."

"What's that?" said Jack suddenly, slamming his foot on the brake again.

"Jack, it's supposed to be yes or no!"

"No, I mean, what's that?" Jack pointed straight ahead. A cloud of dust was traveling rapidly toward them. The Doctor lifted the quadrameter.

"That's… that shouldn't be here." The light on the quadrameter was beginning to flash much more quickly.

Jack frowned. "Should I stop?"

"No, keep going. I want to see what they're up to." The Doctor leaned forward. Jack put his foot on the gas.

**

The amiability between Rose and Robert had lessened somewhat at her discouragement at not being able to find the TARDIS. Still, she could see he needed someone to talk to. She didn't know what she'd do if she had to go three days without human contact, so she indulged him. Plus, his stories were just as interesting as some of the ones the Doctor and Jack told and she liked being able to offer up a few of her own, though she tried to be cautious about revealing too much. She liked Robert, but for all she knew, the Time Agency was still looking for Jack.

Still, Jack was a popular name.

They had been walking for hours and it was beginning to get dark. Rose wasn't looking forward to the prospect of another night out in the chill around a campfire with a tea of beans from Robert's coat pocket.

"Does that look what I think it looks like?" said Robert suddenly, pointing into the encroaching gloom.

Rose squinted. Just up ahead, she could barely make out shadowy shapes that could be buildings.

"They sort of do…" she said hesitantly.

Robert grinned at her. "Come on."

**

The closer they got to the dust cloud, the tighter Jack's chest felt. He and the Doctor hadn't said a word since they'd seen it, and the silence was beginning to weigh on him. His mouth felt impossibly dry.

The dust was being kicked up by an enormous truck. Jack wasn't an expert on classic cars, but by his reckoning, the truck definitely didn't belong in 1930–more like 4930. He chanced a glance to his left, but the Doctor sat stonily in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead.

Finally, he said, "Do you have your psychic paper? Mine was on the TARDIS."

"I have it." Jack reached into his coat pocket and handed it to the Doctor, who took it.

"Let me do the talking," the Doctor said.

"Always do."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Jack smirked. "Let's say I learned my lesson after Karmac V." He was satisfied to finally see the Doctor's features softened by the smile Jack loved to see. "We'll be all right," Jack said reassuringly, reaching over to squeeze the Doctor's hand.

"Keep your hands on the wheel," the Doctor admonished, but he returned Jack's squeeze affectionately.

When they pulled up to where the truck had stopped, the Doctor dropped Jack's hand, but not before one of the two uniformed men who approached their car saw that he'd been holding it.

"Oho," he said, shifting his grip on his auto-blaster. "Look at our new friends."

"She won't like this," said his companion, shaking his head. Then he paused, cocking his head in thought. "Or maybe she will. You never know what she's into these days."

The Doctor handed over the psychic paper. The second guard–Jack could see his ident badge gave his name as Hauser, his companion's name was Rye–studied it. He didn't recognize the logo, though they seemed to be from a generic security outfit.

"I'm John Smith," said the Doctor, "and this is my driver Gerardo."

Jack opened his mouth to protest that this was an authentic RAF coat and looked nothing like a chauffeur's uniform when Hauser said, "Funny thing, psychic paper." He snapped it shut and handed it back to the Doctor. "It only works if the person you're giving it to can't see that it's blank."

Jack felt his stomach drop, though the Doctor's expression remained impassive.

"Out of the car," said Rye, leveling his blaster at them. Very slowly, Jack and the Doctor climbed out of the vehicle, hands on their heads. Rye grabbed Jack by the arm. "Into the truck."

Jack spun, swinging out with his arm and his leg. He caught Rye in the jaw with his fist and the back of the knee with his foot.

Both men fired at once and Jack fell.

Jack had been shot before–and with a variety of different weapons–but he knew no one could survive two simultaneous blaster shots to the head. He was going to die. He was definitely going to die.

He was going to die here–he didn't even know where here was–right after having done something phenomenally stupid. He'd never see Rose again, he'd never...

He jerked, gasping for one last breath, as his vision went black. His last sight was the Doctor's stricken expression.