END OF TIME SPOILERS :(

"That's how the Master started. It's not like I'm an innocent. I've taken lives. And I got worse, I got clever. Manipulated people into taking their own. Sometimes I think a Time Lord lives too long. I can't. I just can't."

Fenn sat on the train to Edinburgh, watching the rolling green landscape slide smoothly by, dotted here and there with hints of civilization. She felt nostalgic, watching the familiar quaintness of it all flow by. Of all the places she had been with the Time Agency, Earth was the quaintest. It had an odd feeling of comfort in familiarity about it. Fenn had seen lots of other planets, peoples, and places, but she always loved her home planet the most. She was probably biased, as it was her home, but that didn't change her mind.

Fenn still loved the Earth most. She wondered why the Doctor did too.

"There's an old Earth saying, Captain. A phrase of great power and wisdom and consolation to the soul in times of need."

"What's that then?"

"Allons-y!"

She looked at the letter Jack had given her. The writing on the front looked like the Doctor's, but she didn't think that he'd leave her a letter after her little performance in Torchwood. Fenn felt her cheeks redden a little. She felt embarrassed of her melodramatics- there were so many people worse off than her. She shook off the guilt of yelling at the others temporarily and focused back on the letter.

It was in an ordinary posting envelope, slightly yellowed from age, which her name scrawled across the front in a flowing black ink. She pulled a pen out of her pocket, slid it under the seal and carefully peeled it open. Her excitement dropped a little when she saw the contents- just a small slip of paper. She pulled it out and glanced over the sheet; it was odd. All it had on it was a number; 359. But the strangest thing about it was that the writing was distinctively her handwriting.

"My Lord Doctor. My Lord Master. We are gathered, for the end."

It was a message to herself, that much was obvious. But what it was about, she had no clue. She sighed. Why could she never be clear to herself?

A blonde-haired, middle-aged conductor in a smart uniform made his way down the aisle, looking for tickets. Fenn pulled out the card that Jack had given her, and gave it to the man. He looked at it, and snorted, "What kind of rubbish is this?"

"Government rubbish, apparently," Fenn wasn't in the mood to take the argument too far.

The conductor shook his head, "I can't accept this."

"I'll take it up with your supervisor later. In the meantime, can you just let me be? I've had a long day."

"It's just we normally get noted beforehand that an official is coming on." The poor conductor was looking understandably confused by now.

"I never said I was an official. It's a clearance card."

The conductor seemed to make up his mind, "Okay, okay, I'll leave it be."

Fenn smiled gratefully, "Thankyou."

He gave her back the card, and made his way down the remainder of the carriage unusually fast. The thought occurred to Fenn that he might think she was a spy. Well, he'd be half right. But if she was still a spy, she didn't know who she was spying on any more.

Maybe she could go back to university, and finally finish off her degree. Studying history would be a breeze now that she'd seen a lot of it, and it would be nice to settle back into the world of academics, where revenge was at a pen tip and not a gun barrel.

Fenn sighed. She wished it would be that easy. People would wonder where she'd been for the last few years. What was she supposed to tell them? 53rd Century Alpha Centauri? 15th Century Europe? New York, three thousand years in the future? The Orion Nebula? She'd be laughed out of the country.

"Get out of the way."

The train pulled in to the station at Edinburgh, and Fenn joined the general bustling rush to get off. She stepped out onto the platform and took a deep breath of fresh air. It felt so good being home.

Fenn caught a bus out to the suburbs and walked the rest of the way home. The whole greenness of it all was refreshing, after the grey concrete of the Time Agency. She turned the last corner to her house, and found it surrounded by police vehicles. Fenn almost face palmed then and there. It would have to be her house.

"Back into the Time War, Rassilon! Back into hell!"

"You die with me, Doctor!"

"I know."

Fenn walked up to one of the police vans, where she saw two officers writing down information on a clipboard. She walked up to them, and cleared her throat, "Um, excuse me, officer, but why is that house being searched by the police?"

The officer, who looked not much older than her- twenty-three, maybe? - glanced at her, and then did a double-take as if he'd seen a ghost. His middle-aged colleague spotted her too and stepped towards her.

"Are you Fenn Nimear?" The older agent's short brown ruffled hair was at odds with his clean, neat uniform.

Fenn hesitated for a moment as she thought it through. She had royally annoyed Delven at the Time Agency, and he had access to every point in history at his disposal; he could've easily have gone back in time to set her up for a crime. On the other hand, she wanted to go home, and lying to the police would just make things more complicated. She settled for an in-between solution.

"Get out of the way."

"No, but I know her."

The younger officer seemed to gather himself a little, "You look exactly like her, only... younger."

Fenn chuckled at that statement, "Do I?"

The older officer glared at him, and turned back to Fenn, "Are you aware of the activities that Miss Nimear was involved with?"

Fenn looked closer at her house. At first glance, it looked fine. The grey-brown brick of the front was intact, and the windows were only just gathering dust. She thought back along her own timeline. The last time she was here in two thousand and eight was three years ago, from her perspective. She turned back to the officer, "What's the date today?"

He looked at her strangely, "the 21st."

"Of?"

"June."

"Oh." She'd been gone for nearly two months, "Was she listed as a missing person... again?"

"No."

It was Fenn's turn to shoot strange looks, "No?"

Suddenly there was a commotion that came from inside the building, and shouting. Fenn peered towards it, "Is there someone in there?"

"Oh... I've lived too long."

"No. No, no, please, please don't. No, don't, don't, please don't... please!"

"Wilfred, it's my honour."

The door burst open and a flood of heavily armed- well, Fenn didn't know what they were. They looked like an elite cross between the FBI and UNIT, armed with all manner of tactical weaponry and... something that didn't belong to this century. They looked like modified energy blasters- the Time Agency had been working on them. They shot small pockets of gamma ray energy- the same stuff expelled from black holes.  Fenn backed away from it all, "What's going on?"

Suddenly the activity increased, and someone was dragged, kicking and screaming, out of her house. Fenn couldn't see who it was among the mass of black uniforms, until the figure twisted purposely toward her and screamed, "RUN!"

"I don't want to go."

That was when Fenn saw that face; that face she knew all too well. She ran. She ran for her life.