“That drone really is a remarkable piece of engineering, especially considering what you and Toshiko were working with,” the Doctor told Ianto as he and Jack joined the little group clustered around Torchwood’s prisoner, who was now sipping a fresh coffee.
“The design is mainly Tosh’s,” Ianto replied, typically modest. “I just made suggestions and sourced raw materials. Can I get you a coffee Doctor? Or perhaps you’d prefer tea?”
“Coffee please. When in Rome!” He turned to Hart. “Now, what are we going to do about you? Can’t leave you here on earth to cause more trouble, can we?”
“I only came back here looking for a little help and consideration, but they care more about that drone than they do about a fellow human in need!”
“Spare us the sob story, flyboy!” Donna folded her arms across her chest. “I’ve met your kind before. Probably been treated better than ya deserve.”
“They tossed me in the boot!”
“Really? I would’ve tied ya to the roof, ya smell a bit ripe, could do with a shower.”
“Yeah, well, no one offered.”
“That’ll ‘ave to change if you’re comin’ with us then. We are takin’ ‘im, right Doc?”
The Doctor looked at Hart.
“Well now, I don’t know. Strictly speaking, I was only invited over to provide Torchwood’s new drone with a perception filter. No one said anything about picking up passengers.”
“Well, can’t leave ‘im ‘ere. Ianto has enough to do without ‘avin’ another inmate to feed. Besides, I kinda like ‘im. Needs some work, but I’m pretty sure I could whip ‘im into shape.”
Hart’s eyes lit up.
“I like whips!”
“Weeeeeeell,” the Doctor drawled, “travelling on the TARDIS didn’t do Jack any harm and I do like a challenge. Alright then.”
TBC in ‘Departure’