It's all AU.

Several days since Diane had been drinking with Jack Harkness, and she was very firmly determined never, ever to do so again.

Maybe never even drink again.

She'd done her best to keep to drinks she at least recognised, but as the evening had progressed and Jack's stories had got wilder, she'd lost track of what she was drinking. For once, not being careful, not needing to stay in control. And she'd paid for it, with a vengeance.

That morning, the hangover had finally retreated, and she'd ventured on some breakfast that, so far, seemed to be staying where it should be. It was time to try sunlight.

Shrugging on her jacket, she stepped out of the hotel lobby, paused for a moment, smiled when he head didn't immediately feel like splitting from the heat and light of the invisible sun (or whatever light source applied here) and started down the street in the direction of the field that Gipsy was still sitting in.

She didn't even see the man coming in the other direction until he'd almost passed her and she checked, stopped, and stared. Of course, it made sense, and Jack had said that he was here, but..."Owen?"

He was sitting in the bar, with a martini in hand. He was at a table instead of the bar proper, leaned all the way back in his chair, feet propped up on the table. His talk with Jamie about it being like vacation had been accurate - he'd gotten comfortable here. Comfortable enough to let himself have a (one) drink.

When he heard footsteps pause behind him, he pushed himself back to look up. "Do you know me?"

Didn't matter if he recognized them or not. It was a standard question around here.

Sky Gypsy responded as freely as she ever had, and it was only seconds before the clouds closed in, hiding Owen and 21st century Cardiff from the brief glances that Diane let herself take. She had no clue where the rift would take her, only that it would take her somewhere else, somewhere new, and she needed that. Needed somewhere people weren't going to have expectations of her, somewhere she could be herself. Somewhere she could fly.

There was no indication of any change, even in the atmospheric pressure, no turbulence, no rain, no storms, but the clouds cleared within heartbeats, to a hazy, milky sky Diane didn't recognise, and a clear field below on the edge of a small town that had to be worth landing in. Besides, she was tired, and hungry, and neither of those made for safe flying.

Silence closed in suddenly when she killed the ignition, comforting purr of engine gone to leave...nothing. No hint of breeze, no birdsong (though the birds had probably been kept at a distance by Gypsy's engine) and Diane pushed the door open cautiously, climbing down and keeping one hand resting on the fuselage while she looked around for any sign of life.

Like the figure approaching from the town-side of the field.