So why'd you come home to this faithless town...?
Sam and Tosh are both in Sam's room. The door is open in case someone needs either of them (mostly Sam), which somewhat defeats the purpose of separate quarantine rooms, but Torchwood is above such things. Or, more to the point, the plague's almost been sorted out and if anyone upstairs had it, they probably would have noticed already.
Tosh is at the desk with her laptop, hacking into police records, CCTV, whatever she can get. It is, so far, a pretty fruitless search, considering it's not easy to look for a shapechanger in a city the size of Chicago, and she can't track him by Rift energy because it's all over the place. Sam's on the bed, several printed out police reports spread out in front of him. There are a few that mention a Napoleonic coat (really, what kind of idiot wears a noticeable thing like that when he's going to run around committing crimes?), but none that are all that helpful figuring out where he might be.
He's starting to get very frustrated, and waiting for the response to a couple journal entries isn't making that any easier.
As chance (or... whatever...) would have it, the person they're looking for isn't far - just in the park, which seems to be rapidly becoming his favorite haunt. John Hart is in the park - wandering aimlessly, looking for something to entertain himself with, and for once wearing his own face. It's one local law enforcement won't be looking for, which is a nice change from the usual...
Back in the Conrad, in the basement, Gwen is getting restless. There's only so much she can do from down here with a laptop, and she's feeling better, honestly. She's stopped coughing, even, and alright, maybe she's a little weak still, but not enough to justify Mathias being as overprotective as he's being. For instance, she's perfectly capable of walking on her own. Somehow, she's managed to get away from Mathias at least momentarily, and is curled in an arm chair in the common room with a mug of tea and her journal, skimming through it (the journal, not the tea) in search of absolutely anything to keep her occupied. She's not finding much.
And here comes the Doctor, bounding into the hotel lobby with a small cooler in hand containing several doses of the cure. He heads straight for the basement, waving his way past the security on the elevator by flashing his psychic paper and saying something about being "the Doctor", which confuses them long enough for him to get past and into the lift. Plague problem settled? Check. Now he just has to deal with the murderer stealing Des and Jack's face, and... well, let's be honest, wait for the next disaster. Yes. He can do that.
Tosh is at the desk with her laptop, hacking into police records, CCTV, whatever she can get. It is, so far, a pretty fruitless search, considering it's not easy to look for a shapechanger in a city the size of Chicago, and she can't track him by Rift energy because it's all over the place. Sam's on the bed, several printed out police reports spread out in front of him. There are a few that mention a Napoleonic coat (really, what kind of idiot wears a noticeable thing like that when he's going to run around committing crimes?), but none that are all that helpful figuring out where he might be.
He's starting to get very frustrated, and waiting for the response to a couple journal entries isn't making that any easier.
As chance (or... whatever...) would have it, the person they're looking for isn't far - just in the park, which seems to be rapidly becoming his favorite haunt. John Hart is in the park - wandering aimlessly, looking for something to entertain himself with, and for once wearing his own face. It's one local law enforcement won't be looking for, which is a nice change from the usual...
Back in the Conrad, in the basement, Gwen is getting restless. There's only so much she can do from down here with a laptop, and she's feeling better, honestly. She's stopped coughing, even, and alright, maybe she's a little weak still, but not enough to justify Mathias being as overprotective as he's being. For instance, she's perfectly capable of walking on her own. Somehow, she's managed to get away from Mathias at least momentarily, and is curled in an arm chair in the common room with a mug of tea and her journal, skimming through it (the journal, not the tea) in search of absolutely anything to keep her occupied. She's not finding much.
And here comes the Doctor, bounding into the hotel lobby with a small cooler in hand containing several doses of the cure. He heads straight for the basement, waving his way past the security on the elevator by flashing his psychic paper and saying something about being "the Doctor", which confuses them long enough for him to get past and into the lift. Plague problem settled? Check. Now he just has to deal with the murderer stealing Des and Jack's face, and... well, let's be honest, wait for the next disaster. Yes. He can do that.