Rachel's father was named Vincent Easley, and they found him in a fourth-floor cell, identical to the one they'd left earlier. The Doctor unlocked the door easily and disabled the security camera with his sonic screwdriver.

"Why didn't you just unlock my door and free me?" he asked, scowling at the Doctor. "Why did you break out the handcuffs?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I wanted it to look authentic. Of course... that backfired." He looked at Vincent Easley, who was sitting on his bunk, staring at them. "Hello, I'm Captain Jack Harkness and this is the Doctor. We're with the opposition. Rachel sent us."

"Rachel." Easley shook his head. "Don't tell me she's getting involved in this mess."

"She's the reason we're here," said the Doctor. "We're going to set you free."

Easley shook his head. His eyes were hollow and his face was obscured by scrubby whiskers. Jack was reminded unsettlingly of the reflection he'd seen in the mirror back on the TARDIS. It had been that of a stranger.

"And what would be the point of that, young man." Easley's voice was so quiet he could barely make it out. "You're not ordinary Draxans, I can tell that." His eyes lingered on the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. "Idealists, just like the rest."

"Rachel says you're an idealist," said the Doctor.

"I was," said Easley. "Until I saw the kinds of forces we're up against."

The Doctor sucked air in between his teeth. "Nothing sadder than a dead idealist, hm, Doctor?"

He ignored him. "I'll go in your place," he said simply. "It's the least I can do." Anything not to have another death on my conscience. Anything.

Easley glanced up at him. "Now just a second, young man. The least you can do?"

The Doctor smirked. "You don't know the Doctor."

It continued to be odd to hear what amounted to the Doctor talking about himself in the third person. It gave him a headache, but lots of things having to do with the Doctor did.

"Let's just say it's not that easy to execute me."

Easley looked skeptical.

"Trust me." He grinned.

Easley's expression softened. "What about me?"

"We're going to break you out and take you home." The Doctor stuck his head out of the cell, glancing back and forth. "In the morning when they come by and see Ja–the Doctor and me here, well... we have a plan."

Easley frowned, but he stood up. "Why should I trust you, Captain Harkness?"

The Doctor smiled. "Because I'm so charismatic?"

**

They dropped all three Easleys off in the woods. Vincent explained that he'd been keeping this cabin in case they ever needed to hide.

He knew he would be unable to watch the tearful family reunion, but he was surprised to see that the Doctor's cheerful expression also faded as soon as he stepped back onto the TARDIS.

"Guess we'll skip to tomorrow morning," the Doctor said, drumming his fingers absently on the console. "Unless you need a rest?"

He pushed his hair out of his eyes and thought about it. "I guess I could use some sleep. It's been a while."

"All right," said the Doctor cheerfully. "Let me know if you need anything."

Once back in the bedroom–his bedroom–he shucked off his clothes and crawled under the covers. He'd been so tired in the console room but he found that once he was lying here in the darkened room, he wasn't sleepy. He rolled onto his back, his side, without his pillow, even with his head pointed at the foot of the bed. Nothing worked. Every time, he dropped off to sleep, he was back in the field with Ianto and he couldn't remember his own name.

After a couple hours of that, he sighed and stood up. Maybe a warm shower would relax him.

It didn't help much, but it was good to feel that he was cleaning himself, washing off the grime of all the things that he'd done. Was it possible for him to ever feel like himself again? Who was himself, anyway? He rubbed his face and suddenly realized he hated the feeling of the growth of beard there.

As soon as he stepped out of the shower, he noticed there was a razor and shaving cream sitting on the counter. "I love you," he murmured under his breath.

If he could understand TARDIS, he might have thought she hummed back I love you, too.

**

He tried to cut his hair, too, but after a few minutes that resulted in hopelessly jagged edges, he was forced to ask for the Doctor's help. For his part, the Time Lord seemed pleased to offer his services.

"I'll have you looking like yourself in a jiffy," he declared, examining his head critically. "I've never understood the human fascination with changing one's appearance." He snicked the scissors with a zeal that was almost menacing. Jack shut his eyes.

He got the courage to open them again as the Doctor seized a lock of hair above his ear and lopped it off. "Look who's talking."

"Well..." The Doctor made a few rather haphazard snips and frowned, then started in again at a more confidant pace. "You know what I mean. After all, look at you! You're always wearing the same clothes."

He glanced down at himself but the Doctor placed a hand on top of his head, jerking him upright again.

"Like a Time Lord, you are," he added, moving around to start on the back. "Oh, there's that gray hair you're always complaining about, see?" Snip. "Gone now!"

"You think?"

"Oh, yeah! I just cut it off! You know, you ought to borrow my conditioner–it'll make your hair softer and stave off the gray."

"No, I mean about..."

"Oh, yes! I mean, think about it." The Doctor crouched down in front of him and frowned at his fringe. "There's the living-forever thing, the same-clothes-and-hair thing, the being-able-to-run-in-a-long-coat thing." He stuck his tongue out in concentration and cut straight across. "Also, you brood beautifully."

He laughed. "Those the essentials, huh?"

"Definitely," said the Doctor, walking in a slow circle around him. He made one more decisive cut in the back and then exclaimed, "Right then! I think you're done."

Jack looked up at his reflection in the mirror.

"What do you think?" The Doctor dropped down in front of him and brushed the cut hair off his shoulders. "Looks like before, doesn't it? Looks like Jack?"

He felt his lips twitch into a smile. He did look like Jack.

"Didn't think I'd be that good, did you?" said the Doctor grinning. He ran a hand through his own hair. "Pair of gorgeous, well-groomed time-travelers, we are. Well, I'm gorgeous. You're just... well-groomed." There was a pause.

Jack did not mean to meet the Doctor's eyes but he did.

"Actually," the Doctor said quietly, but then he stopped. Jack felt his pulse quicken. Self-consciously, he moistened his lips.

The Doctor brushed his thumb across Jack's cheek and rested it at the corner of his mouth. "You've got a bit of hair," he said faintly, but he made no move to brush to away. He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing.

Then, he kissed him.

Jack wasn't sure it was happening at first–suddenly, the Doctor was inches away and just as suddenly, his lips were on Jack's. The Doctor's eyes were closed and he was pressing softly, his fingers resting gently against Jack's cheek. Then, just as suddenly as he'd kissed him, the Doctor pulled away and brushed his thumb across Jack's mouth.

"There it goes," he said quietly. "Got it." If he didn't know better, he'd swear the Doctor was blushing. There were another few seconds when neither of them said anything, and then the Doctor stood and clapped his hands.

"We do have a plan, right?"

"Nope," said Jack, fighting to keep his breathing even.

The Doctor's face split into the grin that had always made Jack's stomach flip-flop, even if he didn't want it to. "Perfect."

**

Jack caught the warden as he was coming out of his office the following morning.

"Hi," he said, flipping open the psychic paper the Doctor had given him. "Got a minute? I'm with the Draxan Authority Board. I'm writing a report on... efficiency." Idiot, he thought.

The warden stared at him. "Sorry?"

"I'm from Kuuo City. You're Mr. Phillips, right?" He handed over the psychic paper. "I'm an efficiency expert. The Council sent me." He tried to talk like the Doctor did, adopting a bit of a different tone to sound like the person he was pretending to be–James Harper, efficiency expert.

"Oh, yes." The warden handed him back the psychic paper. "Wasn't expecting you. Come on. I'm sorry, we're about to have an execution..."

"Oh, that's fine," said Jack breezily. "I'll watch."

The warden looked skeptical but Jack just smiled convincingly.

Somewhere, a bell tolled the hour. Eleven in the morning.

"Right then, young man," said Phillips. "Come along."

Jack tucked his clipboard under his arm and followed the warden, silently thanking the Doctor for giving him such a professional-looking haircut. Combed just right, and paired with the three-piece suit he'd found in the wardrobe, it certainly made him feel the part.

Phillips led Jack to his private box above the execution grounds. Jack felt his stomach drop. Was this where...? It was brutal, like something out of Ancient Rome. He swallowed hard. He had to keep his composure.

"Who are all these people?" he asked conversationally, nodding the spectators in the rows behind them.

The warden suddenly looked as though he realized Jack was someone he might like to impress. "Oh, various dignitaries. I believe the governor is here... his wife... the mayor of Kuuo City, in fact and the owner of the mining company!"

Jack nodded wordlessly. "What was the man's crime?"

The warden blinked. "Crime? Oh, yes! Sedition. And importation of weapons–to be used against the colony."

Jack took this in passively, but did adjust his tie. It was uncomfortable, but he had to wear it. The tie was the most essential part of his outfit.

He was relieved from having to say anything more by a prison guard who tapped the warden on the shoulder. He eyed Jack for a second and he felt his blood freeze, but the man passed him over a second later and Jack realized that he probably didn't recognize him all cleaned up.

"Something the matter?" Jack asked the warden calmly when the guard had hurried away.

"Oh, nothing." Phillips looked flustered and kept patting his comb-over. "Everything's fine."

Jack lifted his clipboard. "I'm glad to hear that. While we're waiting, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

The warden blinked. "Oh, of course, young man."

Jack raised his pen above his clipboard. "I just need some data. How many prisoners would you say you execute a year?"

Phillips looked flustered. "You say you're from...?"

"The Kuuo City Council sent me." Jack beamed. "They want me to make sure our citizens' tax dollars are used most efficiently."

Phillips nodded. "Right, then. So, what did you want to know?"

"How old is this facility?"

"About thirty years."

Jack scribbled something on his clipboard. "And how many prisoners at present time?"

"Over a thousand." Phillips seemed very proud of himself.

"Executions per annum?"

Phillips scratched his chin. "Oh, roughly... three hundred? Give or take. You see, some years, the opposition is incredibly persistent, you see..."

"Method of execution?"

"You say this information..."

"Won't leave the planet, sir." Jack gave him his most winning smile.

"It varies," Phillips explained. "Some crimes warrant death by firing squad–" Jack swallowed hard. That would have been him. "–but today, the penalty is hanging. Sedition is punishable by hanging. That's the law."

Jack tapped his tie. "You getting all this, Doctor?"

The Doctor's voice was crackled but audible. "Loud and clear, Captain. Want me to patch the council through?"

"Sure do!"

Jack looked up at Phillips and smiled. "Like my tie?" He watched out of the corners of his eyes as the guards sympathetic to the resistance stepped from their posts and advanced on various colonial officials in the warden's box.

The warden's face was contorted with rage. "You're with them. You're with the opposition."

Jack beamed. "They're hearing you back on Draxa Prime. Everything we say is being broadcast live over the stadium loudspeakers, too. I think the prison population's going to increase somewhat by tonight. Oh, and, governor?" Jack turned to the man being led away in handcuffs. "You can try to run for reelection, if you want. But I wouldn't get my hopes up."

Jack felt the gun against his back before he saw the man who held it. "I'm sorry, Mr. Phillips," he said softly. "You can do it if it would make you feel better to go to prison for murder, too. Doesn't matter to me."

Phillips's hand shook as he held the gun. "Wh-who are you?"

Jack smirked. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness."

The gun went off and Jack dropped.