Jack was sitting in the lounge, sipping a coffee from his blue and white striped mug. He had a book in his hand, but he'd barely glanced at it in the last half hour. He was mostly lost in his thoughts. His mind seemed to be running wild, alternately touching on Torchwood, on Ianto, on Kate, on The Doctor being missing, on Martha... on Rose. Actually, Rose had barely entered his rambling stream of thoughts when she walked in the door. He blinked for just a second, briefly wondering if he was imagining her. No, he thought as she glanced around. She was real. He didn't move from his seat. He sipped his coffee and watched her over the rim of his mug.