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?"

Sam rubbed his wrist, making a face. The skin was dry, a little patchy. At least it didn't stink anymore- he'd washed the hell out of it when the nurse had said he could after getting the cast off. He twisted his wrist, using his back to push the door into the waiting room open, turning when he got through to be...not in the waiting room. He blinked, looking around the hotel, handing going to his pocket for a protective amulet even as he called out, "Dean?"

Rowan sprawled out on the grass, writing notes in his green Torchwood folder, chewing on a piece of grass. He was belly down and his feet were swinging in the air like a child's.

Martha was becoming pretty much resigned to being stuck in this place. It wasn't so bad, considering. No one was trying to kill her, which was a big plus over a few places she'd been with the Doctor and some without, there was no shortage of basics like food and shelter, and she could always get away when she needed privacy.

Tracking people down again was more difficult, but they usually showed up again sooner or later.

For now, though, she really should be catching up on her studies. If she was going to get this extra time before exams, she might as well make the most of it, and the library had texts on every branch of medical science she'd ever studied, and a lot more.

Selecting a book on genetic reconstruction from the shelf, she settled into a chair to try and make sense of it. She'd nearly managed to begin to succeed, when the door creaked open, and she lowered the book just far enough to peek over the top of it, eyes wide.