Title: Quatrefoil
By: Inara
Pairing: gen
Rating: PG
Summary: When 'routine' and mundane become anything but.

***

Part One

The early hours of the morning crept on towards daylight, and everything slept, everything that is apart from Captain Jack Harkness, who lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing that just for once, he could drift away into oblivion, and resenting those who took it for granted. The Hub seemed strange when it was quiet, almost alien itself, with no sound apart from the water running down the obelisk, the steady hum of the computers, and the occasional leathery flap of the Pteranodon's wings. He felt so tired, a bone numbing weariness that had nothing to do with not being able to sleep, and everything to do with not being able to die. No man should live forever. Turning onto his side he decided to stare at the wall instead — a change was as good as a rest.

Gwen knew that she was an idiot, she didn't need anyone to tell her. As she walked across Plas Roald Dahl, the heels of her boots clattering in the silence, she wondered if she was beginning to lose her grip on her sanity. As there wasn't much going on, Jack had suggested that she and the other members of the Torchwood team took an impromptu night off, to chill out and get a life. At first, she'd really liked the idea, and had made her way homeward via Marks and Sparks food section, picking up a variety of bung it in the microwave meals, a bottle of wine and a packet of walnut whips. Rhys was on a long arranged evening out on the raz with Dav, and she had told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn't coming back until the next day. She remembered the last time he'd been out on a bender; he'd got up in the middle of the night to go to the loo, still half cut, got confused and ended up trying to go for a pee in her wardrobe. Not even the meal he'd treated her to at Bar Orient had made up for that one. So, she reckoned she'd have something to eat, then a nice long bath in the Crabtree and Evelyn bubble bath her friend Carol had bought her for Christmas, followed by rewatching Gladiator again for the umpteenth time, then bed, hopefully to dream about Russell Crowe. Unfortunately though, it hadn't worked out like that. She'd had dinner, had a bath, mooched around for a while, unable to settle, then gone to bed, where she'd tossed and turned for ages, and finally got up again. So, here she was, dressed and ready to go, heading back to work and some ungodly hour of the morning. It was as if she couldn't have a normal life anymore, and that scared her.
She let herself into the Hub and quietly headed for her desk. She could feel that Jack was there, but didn't want to disturb him; ok, so he couldn't sleep, but he needed downtime as much as any of them, maybe more. Turning on the monitor she gave a small smile, remembering the snotty memo that Ianto had sent round, asking them to turn of their computers when they went home, as it was disturbing Myfanwy (stupid name for a Pteranodon). How had she ever got from booking speeders, to sharing an office with a prehistoric animal? Still, enough about Owen.......
'I may have got this wrong,' Jack's voice close to her ear almost made her jump out of her skin, 'but didn't I send you home hours ago?'
'I suppose you did, but I must have ignored you.' She smiled but he could see that it didn't quite reach her eyes.
'What's wrong Gwen?' he was suddenly serious, and for some stupid reason she felt tears prick her eyes. This was really daft; she must be due on or something.
'I don't know Jack, really I don't. You know that feeling you get where someone just walked over your grave?' He nodded, knowing it only too well. 'Well, someone's tap dancing on mine.' When he didn't reply she gave a self conscious laugh. 'Ok, so I know I'm an idiot.'
'No,' he put a hand on her shoulder. 'That's the last thing you are. These feelings are important, and you must never just laugh them off. What we do need to find out though, is what's causing them.'
'My mam used to reckon that her family were psychic. Apparently some great, great, god knows how many great aunt was a medium or something.'
'It can run in families.' She shivered. Him taking it seriously felt ten times worse than being laughed at, as now she knew it wasn't a joke.
'Has anything come in over night?' He scanned the screens, looking for information, and then said:
'That's weird.'
'What?'
'Apparently there was a break in the feed at midnight, it just lasted for a couple of seconds, but it's odd just the same.'
'Perhaps Ianto forgot to feed the meter.' Turning to face him she noticed the dark shadows under his eyes for the first time. 'Are you alright?' he ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up in all directions. Gwen resisted the urge to reach out and run her fingers through it; that was a complication she just didn't need. He wanted to tell her he was fine, give the standard Jack response, but he couldn't, just for once, he needed to confide in someone or he would explode. 'Jack?' she was worried now. Standing up, she led him over to the sofas they used to crash on when pulling a late shift and sat down next to him. 'Come on Jack Harkness, I've got ways of making you talk.' Inwardly she grimaced, sometimes everything just came out sounding like a double entendre.
'Not the comfy chair, anything but that.' He joked, but his heart wasn't in it. Now that he had the chance, he couldn't find the right words, and just sat there, staring into the middle distance, whilst the thoughts tumbled around his head. Rubbing his hands over his eyes, he decided to take the coward's way out. 'It doesn't matter.' Gwen was having none of it.
'Don't be so bloody stubborn. If you don't tell me I'll just nag until you do, and I can be very persistent. Just ask Rhys.' He didn't doubt it for a minute. Taking a deep breath, he blurted out:
'I don't think I can do this anymore.'
'Do what?'
'All this.' He gestured around him. 'I know what we're doing here is vital to the future of humanity, but sometimes I just wish it would all just go away. God, Gwen, I am just so tired of it all. When I came back, I thought that immortality was a gift, something that I could use for the greater good, which is a joke coming from me.' Gwen gave him a look. 'Let's just say that altruism wasn't my middle name. Now I know it for what it really is; a curse. Can you imagine how it feels to know that everyone you love will die, but that you will go on forever, alone? I wish I'd never come back. Death is underrated.' The sheer desolation in his voice made Gwen want to take him in her arms and hug him, but she settled for a comforting hand on his shoulder.
'I can't imagine how you feel Jack,' she said quietly, 'But you should know that I'm glad you came back. We need you, all of us.' Particularly me, she thought, but didn't say it. 'I know you can't sleep, but you do need to rest. Lay down for a while, I'll keep an eye on things.'
'I'm sorry, I guess I'm just having an off day. I shouldn't lay all of this at your door.'
'That's what friends are for,' she grinned, settling him down. She nipped off to look for a blanket, and when she returned his eyes were closed and his breathing deep and even. If she hadn't known better, she could have sworn he was sleeping. Tucking the khaki blanket around him (did Ianto buy everything at the army surplus shop?), she lightly kissed his forehead. A small voice in her head told her it wasn't a good idea, but she locked it in a small soundproofed room, where she couldn't hear it, and wandered back to her workstation to see what else was happening in the world above the Hub.

The sound of a baby crying woke Isobel Shawcross from her dream, but rather than feeling fuzzy with sleep, she was on her feet and alert in seconds. Ever since Joshua had come into her life, she knew that he was going to be the most important thing in her world, that his needs would come before everything, and she didn't mind a bit.
Shivering slightly as her feet hit the cold wooden floor of her bedroom, she grabbed her dressing gown and shrugged into it. Part of her wondered if she was too old for motherhood, but she knew that it wasn't the case. If it was, why would God trust her to look after something as marvellous as Joshua? She padded across to the small second bedroom where Joshua slept in the small wooden crib that her father had made for her, when she was born, and as she ran her fingers along the dark wood, she could feel the love carved into every twist and turn. It made her feel as though, despite the fact that he had been gone for many years now, that her father was watching over Joshua as well. Reaching down, she untangled him from the covers, and held him in her arms; all at once he stopped crying. With gentle fingers she traced the length of his tiny fingers, wondering again at the translucent membrane that separated both his fingers and toes. When he opened his violet eyes and smiled at her, her heart soared, he was so special, this child, and after years of being childless, Isobel knew that God had finally heard her prayers. As the little fingers wound themselves into her grey hair, and he gurgled in her ear, she again wondered why, at 56, this miracle was happening to her. Looking down at her arms she noticed another of the strange red welts that had started to appear on her face and body, and wondered if she was allergic to her new washing liquid.

Along the coast of South Wales it was a bleak night. Down at Pendine Sands, the wind howled around the caravan park, tipping over children's toys that had been left outside to brave the elements and whistling around the caravans, whilst in the distance waves crashed against the endless beach. Although it was mid September, and still theoretically part of the holiday season the place was deserted, and no-one saw the strange form that turned and tossed in the roiling sea, until it was deposited on the shore in a suppurating mass by the receding tide.

Not far from Cardiff, in the village of Caerleon a group of archaeology students from Bristol university were sleeping peacefully (if you can call synchronised snoring peaceful) in their tents. Well, most of them were. Jason Dornford, the de facto leader of the group sat up in his sleeping bag, smoking the remainder of a joint, and reading the last few chapters of the Da Vinci Code by the rapidly failing light of his torch. Earlier on that day that had made a find that had both surprised and confused them, particularly as most of them knew that the 'dig' which was a regular field trip for first years and had been so over excavated that the chance of finding anything other than a bit of Victorian pottery and an old belt buckle was as rare as rocking horse shit.
When they had unearthed the metal tablet, which was about six inches square and covered in strange engraving that looked like language, but couldn't be, Jason's first thought was that someone was taking the piss. The more he'd looked at it though, the less sure he was that it was a wind up, which was why he was sleeping (or not) in the finds tent, until their lecturer arrived from Bristol in the morning to have a look at it. If it was a wind up, he'd have their guts for garters. Suddenly the battery in his torch flickered and died. 'Bollocks.' He muttered under his breath.

Back at the Hub, Gwen felt her eyes close, but was powerless to stop them. Five minutes nap wouldn't hurt, so she put her head on the desk and gave in. As she slept, the screens sprang into life, and the data washed in like seaweed during a storm.

Part 2

Coffee. The smell filtered into her brain, and nudged it into life. Opening one eye, Gwen wondered why she was face down on her desk instead of being at home in bed, and then she remembered. God, she must look a fright, her hair was all over the place, and as she hadn't even thought about taking off her makeup, she probably looked like Chi Chi the panda. Groaning, she sat up and stretched out her cramped muscles; she was getting to old for this.
'Mornin sleeping beauty, nice of you to join us.' Owen snarky comment grated on her, and she glared at him. How come he managed to be so chipper, at what? She checked her watch, 7.30 am.
'Double espresso, with three sugars.' Ianto pointed to the mug on the table in front of her.
'Ianto, you are an angel.' She favoured him with a smile, and Owen snorted.
'We aim to please.' Ianto responded with his customary reserve. Taking a slug of hot coffee, and feeling the caffeine hit course through her veins, she looked around for Jack, noticing he was no longer asleep on the couch.
'Sorry I'm late.' Toshiko hurried in, then, noting Gwen she added; 'Did you sleep here last night?'
'Not all night,' Gwen responded defensively, wondering how the hell Tosh could be so bright eyed and bushy tailed. She hated morning people. Finishing her coffee, she dragged a comb through her protesting hair and tried to look alert.
'Morning boys and girls.' Jack bounded down the stairs from the boardroom, looking as if he hadn't got a care in the world. It made Gwen feel even more knackered.
'Why is everyone so bloody chipper?' she complained, 'Has someone been dishing out the happy pills?'
'That's next week.' Jack grinned, but his eyes as they stared at her were serious. Last night would be their secret, and she wouldn't betray his confidence. 'Let's see what we've got for your delight this morning.' He flicked through a sheaf of reports, most of which ended up in screwed up balls of paper that nearly made it into the waste paper basket.
'Maybe we can have today off as well.' Owen chipped in, as yet another ball of paper missed its target. 'If you're throwing is that bad, I vote for another game of basket ball, with you on their team.' Jack gave him a look that was less than friendly.
'How about, if you have so much time on your hands, go muck out the Weevil?'
'Ok, ok, point taken. Is there anything there that's the slightest bit interesting?'
'Funnily enough, yeah.' Three sheets of paper remained intact. 'Right, what have we here? Owen, here's something right up your alley.' Owen grimaced. 'An outbreak of some weird virus in Somerset.'
'And that concerns us why? It isn't even in our area.' Jack was suddenly serious.
'Nowhere is outside of our area. I may have been tempted to ignore it, but if you remember we had a score of UFO sightings in the area about three weeks ago. There may not be a link, but I'm not risking it.'
'I thought that we'd decided that the fly boys were practicing that night?' Tosh interjected.
'It still needs looking into.' Jack's voice took on the 'don't argue with me, or you'll lose' quality, but Owen was never one to take a hint.
'Bunch of bloody carrot crunchers. It's bleedin', miles away.'
'About 25 as the crow flies, but as you're not a crow it'll take you about an hour and a half on the motorway. And I don't want any more speeding tickets.'
'You sound like my mother.' He grumbled, taking the report. 'Do I need a passport and inoculations?' Jack ignored him.
'When you get there, contact Dr Elizabeth Marshall at Cannington Health Centre, she's the one who reported the problem. Now,' he turned to Toshiko, 'What's your archaeology like?'
'Not bad,' she commented modestly.
'Come on Tosh,' Owen really did like the sound of his own voice sometimes, Gwen realised. 'You know you're a bloody genius, second only to me.'
'Go stuff yourself.' She responded mildly.
'Am I running a kindergarten?' Jack's good mood was starting to evaporate. Tosh looked sheepish, Owen didn't. 'Right, a group of students have unearthed something odd at a dig at Caerleon that may be of alien origin.'
'Caerleon?' Tosh was surprised. 'I can't believe they're still digging there.' Looking around and four blank faces she continued. 'You know that there's a Roman amphitheatre there?' Three nods, and a bemused frown from Owen. 'The Romans first set up a base at Caerleon in AD75 and based a legion there, the other sites in the country being Chester and York, so you can see how important it was. The amphitheatre was excavated in....' she thought for a moment. '1926 I think. Anyway to cut a long story short,' she'd noticed that their expressions were beginning to glaze over, 'ever since then they've shipped students in by the bus load to dig the outer reaches of the site. I'm surprised that there's anything left to find.'
'Well, apparently there is.' He gave her the report. 'Even if it's not alien, you might find it interesting.' He glanced over at Ianto, who was clearing away coffee mugs, and trying to look as though he was enthralled with the task. 'Ianto, if you don't get out more you'll start to turn into a mole. Go with Tosh, a bit of culture'll do you good.' If Ianto was surprised he didn't show it — just nodded, an inscrutable look on his face. That was why it was never a good idea to play him at poker.
'And what will our illustrious leader be up to whilst we're all out there in the wilds?' Owen gave Gwen a suggestive leer which she deflected with a scowl.
'Don't worry Owen, I'm not getting away with anything. Gwen and I are going on a field trip as well.'
'Great,' Gwen was trying hard to be bright and breezy, when she still felt like death. 'Where?'
'Pendine Sands. Something odd has washed up on the beach.' Gwen groaned loudly and put her head back onto the desk. 'What?'
'Pendine Sands is the bleakest place in South Wales.' She complained. 'Every summer me and my brother would go there to stay with my aunty and uncle at their caravan for two weeks, and every year it would chuck it down with rain, blow a gale and we'd both go home with pneumonia.'
'Don't hold back,' Owen laughed, 'tell it like it is.'
'When we went down on the beach we'd have to wear coats and scarves because it was so bloody cold. Not to mention the fact that the beach is owned by the MOD, so there was every chance of getting blown up.'
'Hold on a minute.' Tosh interrupted, before Owen could make yet another sarcastic comment. 'The name's familiar, but I can't place it. She tapped at her keyboard and then gave a smug smile. 'Of course; Malcolm Campbell set the first speed barrier of 150 mph in his racing car, Bluebird, and later went on to break his own record in 1927 with an unbeaten record of 174mph. In the same year, a Welshman J.G.Parry attempted to beat the record but was killed when his car "Babs" went out of control at 150 mph. The car was buried in the sand dunes but was later excavated and restored to its former glory and now it's a main exhibit in the local Museum of Speed. It was also from there that Amy Johnson set out in 1933 for her famous long-distance flight to the USA. I knew I'd heard of it.'
'Your propensity for information never ceases to amaze me.' Jack responded, trying very hard not to be sarcastic, and failing miserably.
'I remember going there once on a school trip.' Ianto added, making Jack feel even older than before. 'I bought a model of Babs that my brother buried in the garden.'
'Ok people,' he stood up. 'Enough wandering down memory lane; without a route map you might get lost. Owen, Tosh, make sure you keep in touch, any problems, let me know immediately. Gwen, you're with me.' He swept off, leaving Gwen to rush and catch up. Owen opened his mouth to make a rude comment, but when he saw Ianto look at him, he bit his tongue. Right now, he still didn't know where he stood with the younger man, and he didn't want to shoot himself in the foot again; he was getting so good at it, he could even win a medal in the 2012 Olympics. Instead he settled for grabbing his car keys and stalking off to the car park. Why did he have to be the one to liaise with the local yokels?

Tosh drove her Mini off the M4 at the Newport junction, wondering why the hell the planners had made finding the way to Caerleon so difficult. Off the junction, into Newport, round the roundabout, and back to the junction again, before turning off somewhere in the vicinity of the 'on' slip road. It was no wonder that so many drivers ended up toodling completely lost around Newport town centre — a fate worse than death. She looked over to where Ianto had folded himself into the passenger seat like a large praying mantis.
'You're being very quiet.'
'Just saying my prayers.' She glared at him. 'I don't mean to be rude, but have you ever thought of buying a bigger car?' He winced as a large articulated lorry cut them up.
'It may have escaped your knowledge, but I'm not exactly a big person. At least with this one I can reach the pedals without having my seat so far forward that my knees hit the steering wheel.'
'So, what is it exactly that we're going to look at?'
'The file is on the back seat.' He stretched over and grabbed it, and spent the next couple of minutes poring over photo's showing square of greenish coloured metal with odd writing etched into its pitted surface.
'Is this it?'
'It's really interesting. That could possibly be alien in origin, and found in the same strata with Roman coins and pottery. Meaning that there could have been contact with an alien race as far back as that.'
'Sounds like an episode of Stargate.' Tosh gave a small growl. 'What?'
'That programme is the bane of my life. Obviously their basic premise isn't correct, I mean, there isn't any such thing as the Stargate, and the pyramids weren't landing pads for space craft, but, they have on occasions hit pretty close to home when they've found ancient alien artifacts. I wonder what they'd think if they knew what it was really like?'
'How come you know so much about archaeology? Not that you don't know a lot about everything.'
Tosh let her mind wander back to that idyllic summer with Nick, in the days before Torchwood, aliens and Rifts, and couldn't stop the secret smile that flitted across her face. Not wanting to share the precious memory with Ianto she said briefly:
'One of my friends studied it at university.' Ianto knew mind your own business when he heard it, and lapsed into silence again. Tosh knew that she was being churlish, and said:
'How about you, is everything ok?' He hadn't wanted anyone at Torchwood to know, but suddenly the urge to confide in someone was too strong. 'Ianto?'
'I went out with someone a couple of nights ago. The first time since......since Lisa.' He swallowed, remembering the guilt he'd felt when he'd accepted the invitation, the indecision, and then more guilt when he'd found he was enjoying the evening.
'That's great.' Tosh said sincerely.
'So you think I should move on?' she realized she was on dangerous ground, so she though before replying.
'It's not so much about moving on, it's about accepting. You and Lisa really loved each other, and the last thing she would have wanted is for you to stop living. You'll never forget her, but it is ok to carry on with your life, and to maybe find someone who can be special for you.' He was silent for a moment, then replied quietly:
'Thank you. I needed someone to say that.'
'What's she like?'
'She's a computer programmer working at the DVLA,' he grinned. 'We're going bowling on Saturday, provided that nothing comes up.'
'Let's just hope the Rift stays quiet until Monday then.' Tosh realized that she was about to miss her turning and dragged the mini round a sharp right hand bend into Caerleon. Ianto gripped the door handle and tried not to look terrified.

Careful driving wasn't Jack's strong point either, and as they bowled along the country roads towards Laugharne Gwen was definitely wondering if she'd drawn the short straw. Although in the Hub he'd seemed to have got over his dark mood, once in the SUV Jack had lapsed into a silence that she had been unable to break through with any amount of small talk. As usual though, when she felt uncomfortable, Gwen's mouth had run away with her, and she had been unable to stop talking about anything trivial that she could think about. She was even getting on her own nerves.
'You know there's a castle at Laugharne? We should see it in a minute as it's right on the road. If you park up in the car park you can walk to a boat house that Dylan Thomas owned.'
'Gwen Cooper, do you work for the Welsh Tourist Board?' Jack's patience finally snapped.
'Er, no.'
'Well, unless you want a transfer, enough with the running commentary. Whoever said silence is golden had obviously been in a car with someone from Cardiff.' Gwen gave an unladylike snort, but was secretly relieved. She had never been one for long meaningful silences, well, silences of any kind really.
'So, remind me why we're going to the bleakest place in Wales to look at, and I quote 'something weird' washed up on the beach?'
'Because it isn't the first 'something weird' at Pendine. The others we dismissed as rubbish, but you can only have so many false alarms before one rings true. We can't afford to let complacency lead us to miss something important.'
'And why send Owen to Somerset? No way does the Rift stretch that far.'
'And you know that how? We don't know the true extent of the Rift, particularly now. Tosh's calculations show that the fractures spread a lot farther than we first thought, and we don't want to get taken by surprise. Besides, a field trip will do him good.'
'You don't know Owen.'
'Oh yes I do, and that's the problem. It won't hurt him to be out of his comfort zone for a while. He needs to work on his people skills.' He gave her a sideways glance, which she chose to ignore. 'And besides, how could I resist a trip to Pendine Sands?'
'I just hope you remembered to pack your thermals, or you'll freeze your arse off in five minutes.' She grumbled.
'And there was I thinking that you loved the land of your fathers.'
'I love it much more when I'm in the warm and dry.' As if on cue rain began to splatter against the windscreen. 'Oh bloody marvelous.'

Tosh swung the mini into a tight parking space between two coaches, and Ianto instinctively breathed in.
'It doesn't make the car any smaller you know.'
'I know, but it makes me feel better.' Shaking her head, she wandered round to the back of the car and grabbed a pair of bright blue Wellington boots, pattered with tiny blue flowers. When she saw Ianto's grin, she said defensively: 'My niece bought me them for my birthday.' The she looked down at his elegantly polished shoes, and smiled. 'At least one of us is prepared.'
Ianto shuddered. If there was one thing he hated, it was getting in a mess. Toshiko wandered off, not towards the amphitheatre where the coach parties were swarming around like agitated flies, but to a nearby Public Footpath. In the distance he could see several tents set up.
'Are you sure you know where you're going?' She didn't reply, just gave him her 'stop prevaricating' look. He followed in her footsteps, wondering why the hell he was here. He knew every nuance of the Hub, every noise, every smell, the way it worked. He'd been there for so long, it was in his blood, and he loved it with every fibre of his being, whether it was filing, cataloguing the archive, assisting Jack, or even getting tickets for Bryn Terfel for the party of American tourists who had wandered into the outer office by mistake. What he didn't love was traipsing through a cow pat studded field getting his trousers muddy.

Jason looked over at the two strangers and groaned to himself. Stray tourists were all he needed. Things were already going pear shaped. The professor hadn't turned up, two of his team that had been engaged when they started now weren't and had gone off in a huff, and someone had complained about the previous nights noise.
He couldn't help smile at the pretty Asian girl, with her trousers tucked into funky Wellingtons, and wanted to laugh at the other idiot who looked like a trainee accountant.
'Sorry folks, we're digging here, so the footpaths closed.'
'That's ok,' The Asian girl smiled. 'We're here to see you. My name is Toshiko Sato, I'm from the BM. This is my colleague Ianto Jones. I understand you've found something interesting.'
'I didn't think it was so interesting that it deserved a visit from on high.' Tosh could see that he was starting to bristle, and tried to smooth things over.
'Don't worry, it's not an official visit or anything. I've been lecturing up at Aberystwyth and Professor Dwyer asked me to call in and pick the artefact up and take it to him in Bristol.'
'I was expecting him to come himself.'
'I think he was called away.' She smiled again, but this time he could detect a hint of steel. She obviously didn't like to be argued with. Anyway, it was no skin off his nose who took it. He had more things to think about, like finding Claire and Ian and dragging their backsides back to the dig. He disappeared into a tent and came back clutching a medium sized Tupperware box.
'You're going to have to sign for it.'
'No problem.' Tosh found a pen and pad in her bag and hastily scribbled a receipt. 'That's great.' She looked round the site nostalgically. 'I came here once, years ago.'
'I think anyone whose ever done archeology has been here at least once. I sometimes wonder what future diggers will think when they dig up our artifacts in hundreds of years time. They'll probably set up an exhibit of beer cans and takeaway cartons.'


Owen was half way down the M5 before his temper cooled. Sometimes he hated Torchwood, hated Jack for knowing everything but giving away nothing, hated Gwen for having a life with Rhys when all he could manage was a quick shag on a Saturday night with someone whose name he couldn't even remember the next day, hated Toshiko for her quiet reserve and steely determination, hated Ianto for being dull, boring, stalwart and loyal, but most of all, he hated himself. His life was empty, there was nothing there but Torchwood and all that went along with it. No special someone wondering where he was when he was working at all hours, no-one to comfort him when things went wrong, god, he didn't even have a goldfish that depended on him. For a while, with Diane he thought that things were about to change, but he'd fucked that up as well, so here he was, back at square one and as lonely as hell. Maybe he should give it up, go and work for the Red Cross in Africa, do something really worthwhile, but, after this, how could he? Nothing could compare to working for Torchwood, and besides, he knew that not all his problems were related to the job, they were about him, and wouldn't change no matter where he went to work. He badly needed to sort his life out before his anger consumed him.

In a world of his own, he nearly missed his junction, and swerved from the outside lane ignoring the hammering of horns from the cars he cut up as he dived in front of them. Their hard luck.
After flinging the car around a few country lanes and a scary encounter with a herd of cows, he finally arrived at the Cannington Health Centre, a small but modern building tucked away behind the Church, and parked in the car park next to a wonderfully restored VW Beetle.
'Nice motor,' he said to himself.
Wandering through the automatic doors he found himself in a light, open waiting area where a receptionist, a rather plump woman in probably her mid fifties with iron grey hair and an expression to match seemed to be holding court. She gave him a welcoming glare that would have done a basilisk proud
'Yes?'
'Dr Owen Harper, Department of Health, to see Dr Elizabeth Marshall.' He handed over one of his vast collection of business cards, and hoped he'd remembered the right one. If it was the one that said he was from the Gas Board he'd be in trouble.
'Take a seat,' she barked, 'I'll tell her that you're here.' She gestured over to a circle of seats where a young woman sat playing with a toddler that definitely had a good case of chicken pox. He took a seat as far away as possible and tried not to look impatient.
'Any chance of a coffee?' she fixed him with a look. 'Thought not.'
He was gazing out of the window, his mind elsewhere, when a voice said:
'Dr Harper? I'm Liz Marshall.' He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, maybe someone akin to the rottweiller receptionist, but it certainly hadn't been the woman standing in front of him. Elizabeth Marshall was in her late twenties, with short blonde hair, elfin features, and eyes that looked like the sea on a cloudy day. Her slim figure was clad in dark blue chino's and a fitted white shirt that gave her curves in all the right places. Owen swallowed, his thoughts far away from official business.
'Call me Owen, please.' She smiled, and his stomach flipped. Come on idiot, get your brains out of your trousers for once.
'Ok Owen, come through to my office. You know I never expected the Department to take my report seriously, let alone send someone down. Normally it's hard to get even a paperclip out of you lot, without a request in triplicate signed in my own blood.'
'What can I say? It's all part of a new initiative.' He lied easily.
'Oh, another one? If I had a pound for every new initiative I could retire.' She led him down the corridor, past a tank of tropical fish into her office. As he walked through the door, he could see that apart from a couple of chairs and her computer everything else seemed to be covered in books and papers, not unlike his own workstation at the Hub.
'As you can see, I haven't quite got to grips with the paperless office yet. Take a seat if you can find one' She reached for the phone. 'Gloria love, will you be a dear and get us a couple of coffees? Thanks, you're a star.'
'Ok, what have you got?' apart from a nice arse.
'I'm guessing it's something and nothing, but you know what you lot are like if all the paperwork isn't filed, you'd have my guts for garters. Bit of an odd little virus, about fifteen cases all told, severe welts on the skin, aches and sweats; uncomfortable but not life threatening. Only problem is, the lab can't seem to identify it.'
'When did it start?'
'About three weeks ago. I would have expected a lot of improvement by now, but there hasn't been any.'
'How are you treating it?'
'Rest, paracetamol, plenty of fluids — same old, same old. I don't think you need to quarantine the country just yet.'
'Ok, but to be on the safe side, I better see the files.' He checked his watch. 'First things first, what are you doing for lunch?'
'What's lunch? I've got to pick up my little lad before he drives his childminder nuts.' She grinned to show there was no hard feelings. 'You're quite welcome to come round to mine for some eggy bread and Bob the Builder on DVD though.' Best offer he'd had for weeks.

It seemed to take them forever to drive to Pendine. No matter what it said on the map it always seemed to be five miles away, even after what felt like hours in the car. Finally Jack pulled the SUV into a car park across the road from the caravan site, where the hatches were still well and truly battened down.
'Ok, where to now?' asked Gwen.
'There's a café over there, it's the only place open by the look of it.' Gwen glanced over to the slipway leading down to the beach, where something akin to a portakabin sat trembling in the wind. Around it, plastic chairs and tabled lay scattered like confetti.
'God, that place's been here for years. I thought it would have been washed away be now.'
'Lets go see if we can find anyone.' He strode off up some steps and towards the café. Out of the shelter of the car park the wind was still blowing up a storm, driving sand into their faces and billowing Jack's coat behind him like a cape. Below, the huge expanse of beach was deserted as the tide crept out to beyond the headland, the grey waves topped with tiny flecks of white.
'Told you it was bleak.'
'Gwen you can be so negative. It's beautiful.' She wasn't convinced. When they got nearer the café, the door opened and an elderly man emerged wearing a bright yellow slicker and matching hat that made him look like an agitated banana. When he saw he had visitors he didn't seem overly hospitable.
'We're closed.'
'Morning,' Jack held out his hand. The man looked at it for a moment before shaking it. 'Captain Jack Harkness.'
'Tom Price.' He muttered. 'Thought you lot might show up. It's in the barn at the caravan site, although I reckon you've had a wasted trip.'
'Why's that?'
'It doesn't look like something of yours. Probably rubbish come off one of those oil tankers. You should see the crap we get down here sometimes, all sorts washed up. Disgraceful it is.' As he spoke Gwen felt a growing feeling of recognition.
'I know you.' She said finally, as the gears clicked into place. 'You used to be here when I was a kid.'
Tom Price huffed to himself;
'I've been here for longer than I want to remember. See that caravan site? Well, that's mine, I have had it since the 60's. Used to be a gold mine, now it's a millstone. Each year we get fewer people, and more paperwork. It's all this bloody common market stuff.' He glared at Jack. 'And you lot are no bloody help, all these signs about exploding shells put people off.'
'I'm sorry about that. Now, if you could just show me where you've put the remains from the beach?' but the older man was on a roll.
'Bloody storm last night, weather men didn't forecast it. Now all my tables are all over the place and I've got to tidy them up. Not that I'm likely to get any customers mind.' Jack tried to remain patient, but it was becoming harder.
'Tell you what Mr. Price, if you just show me where to go, I'll have a look myself. Gwen here will help you pick up your tables.'
'Thanks a bunch.' She muttered under her breath, the wind whipping her words away.
'Don't mention it; you can chat about the old times.'
'I suppose you can find it without me. It's up the track there on your right. Can't miss it. Like I said though, I don't think its anything of yours anyway.'
'Let me be the judge of that.' With a last grin at Gwen he walked off. She sighed.
'Ok Mr Price, lets get these tidied away, then you can put the kettle on.'
'I would love, but the storm last night shorted out the power. There's no electric.'
'Great.' Thanks a bunch Jack Harkness.

He'd never been that good with kids. In fact he'd met aliens that were easier to deal with, not to mention being far quieter. Some sudden mental aberration had lead him to take Liz Marshall up on her offer, so there he was sitting on her sofa, drinking coffee and eating a boiled egg whilst her three year old son Charlie played on the floor in front of the tv. In one hand he held a half eaten apple and in the other a Power Rangers action figure, both of which he brandished enthusiastically, whilst still being able to concentrate on the story on Cbeebies. He could multitask even better than Tosh, which was saying something.
'You alright in there?' Liz called from the kitchen.
'Yeah, so far so good.' He eyed Charlie warily, wondering how such a small person could scare him quite so much.
'Don't worry, I'll rescue you if things get hairy. He's off to his dads before I have to go in for afternoon surgery.'
'You're not together then?' He tried to keep the elation out of his voice. Maybe he could be in there after all.
'No, thank goodness. He's a great father, but a lousy partner.' She came back into the room, carrying her laptop. 'All our records are computerized, and I can give you remote access from here.'
'Great.' He had hoped to steer the conversation away from work, but it didn't look likely. Charlie wandered over to him, still clutching a semi chewed apple.
'Bumposaurus.' He gestured to the cuddly dinosaur on the screen.
'Yeah, whatever.' Owen sent Liz a 'please help me' look, which she found extremely funny. She'd seen more than one man turned into a quivering wreck by a demanding toddler. 'Right, I better have a look at those files then.'
'Thought you might. Come on Charlie, mummy better get you cleaned up and ready for daddy.'

The walk up to Tom Price's barn wasn't too bad. The rutted track lead away from the main caravan park, and as it was surrounded by trees, it was out of the wind. Jack smiled to himself, thinking how pissed off Gwen was going to be by the time she finished stacking tables. Overhead a seagull yelled aggressively, and he wondered whether a wild goose would be more appropriate, as it seemed as though they had been chasing one. After traipsing through the mud for about a mile he came to a large shed, made out of corrugated iron and other random bits of rusting metal, held together by an assortment of nails, rivets and bits of string. He was surprised it hadn't collapsed years ago. Inside was stuffed with the detritus of years of running a holiday park — the dismembered pieces of a child's roundabout, plastic water carriers, a few old gas bottles, rope, lumps of wood and at least three bicycles. Jack decided that it was all the stuff inside that was actually keeping the place upright. He didn't even want to breathe too loudly incase it collapsed around his ears.
The remains from the beach were lying in the far corner, and at first glance it appeared Tom Price had been right, it was nothing that need concern them; nothing but plastic packaging tangled in a fishing net. Jack though had never been one for taking anything at face value. Taking a torch from his pocket, he wandered over to it, brushing stray cobwebs out of his face. The object was roughly five feet long, and shaped like a sarcophagus, but made of what looked appeared to be black plastic. Crouching down beside it, Jack realised that he had been wrong, it wasn't plastic at all. As he looked, the sarcophagus almost seemed to shimmer, its colours changing and blending like an oil slick. He watched, unable to tear his eyes away as it changed, somehow becoming both solid and liquid at the same time. He had to touch it, to feel the colours drift across his skin. Then, he became aware of the feeling in his head, the pressure that was building up behind his eyes, and the sharp pain that sliced through his skull. Looking down, he noticed the drops of blood on the earth floor, realising with surprise that his nose was bleeding. Suddenly a wave of static filled his vision, he tried to clear his head, but the pain was just too great, and he fell to the ground unconscious.

As far as Owen could tell, there was no link between the victims of the virus, apart from the fact that they were all patients at the Medical Centre. Ok, so they all lived in the same basic geographic area — the village and surrounding farms, but then again so did a lot more people who hadn't been infected. This tended to rule out contamination of the water supply, or an airborne toxin. The fact that there was a bloody great nuclear power station five miles away also seemed entirely irrelevant. Nor was there any consistency in the age or sex of the victims, the youngest being an eight year old girl, and the oldest being a retired milkman aged 76. So far as he could tell Liz had handled everything according to the book, and in another week or so those affected would have nothing to show for it but half a bottle of unused calamine lotion and some unpleasant stories for round the dinner table.
From upstairs there came a yell, and the sounds of a toddler having a tantrum. Owen grimaced and tried to shut out the noise. Clicking on to the next file, he was startled by a sudden banging on the front door.
'Could you get that for me?' Liz yelled from upstairs, straining to be heard over Charlie's furious tears.
'Yeah, no worries.' Standing on the threshold was a middle aged woman with dyed blonde hair, wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a milled up jumper with a picture of a kitten on it. Owen thought that tops like that should be banned for anyone over eleven. It wasn't her bad taste in knitwear that caused him concern though, it was the weeping red sores that covered her face and arms.
'I want the doctor,' she croaked, as if her throat were filled with barbed wire.
'I am a doctor.'
'Please, I' sorry to come round, but I can't get to the surgery. I think.......I feel......' she choked violently, and a thick red stream of blood pulsed from her mouth, and flowed onto the kitten jumper.
'Shit.' Owen said eloquently.

Part 3

All hell broke lose. The woman fell to her knees in front of Owen, still coughing up blood that sprayed around her like red raindrops; He tried to keep her still, put her on her side to stop her choking, but she was terrified and thrashed around, making it worse.
'Liz, Get an ambulance!' He yelled, fighting with the prostrate woman. From behind him there was the sound of running footsteps on the stairs.
'Oh my god.' He saw the colour rush from her face as she stood in the doorway, paralysed by the scene in front of her, seeing Owen kneeling in an ever increasing pool of blood.
'Now!' he snapped, all thought of anything but his patient flying out of his head. Without another word she rushed inside. 'You're going to be ok.' The woman looked back at him with terrified eyes. Even in the state she was in, she knew a lie when she heard it.

At the Medical Centre all was quiet. Gloria was taking advantage of the lull between morning and afternoon surgeries by putting her feet up with a cup of Earl Grey and the latest Woman's Weekly. When the phone rang, she jumped slightly, spilling tea onto the crossword, and cursed to herself. Picking up the phone, her expression changed, and she hurriedly reached for a pen. Call after call followed as the situation became very bad, very quickly.

A little way out of the village, in a farm house that had seen better days, Isobel Shawcross lay on the sofa, feeling the cushions dig into her back. She didn't know what was happening. Everything hurt. When she breathed it felt as though she were breathing in fire, and the sores on her skin were weeping and raw. She looked over to Joshua, who was sitting in the chair, watching her with his strange violet eyes. He had grown so fast, every minute changing him from baby to toddler and onwards towards adulthood. She wondered, in her fever, whether he had been sent from God after all.

If Gwen never saw another plastic table as long as she lived then it would be too soon. The rain was coming down in stair rods again, she was soaked through, but at least Tom Price's bloody tables and chairs were under lock and key. Not that he seemed much happier, and she was beginning to suspect that miserable was his usual state of mind — he wasn't even a glass half empty person, more of a 'what glass?'. Looking at her watch, she realised that Jack had been gone longer than she thought, and a small flame of worry flared in her stomach.
'Are we done here then Tom?' He nodded.
'I suppose I best go and get the electric seen to.' He grumbled, looking around. 'Where's your Captain got too then?'
'I dunno, I thought he would be back by now. I better go and look for him.'
'Well, if he's done any damage up there, he'll have to pay for it.' Gwen raised her eyes skywards and prayed for patience. Leaving Tom to his muttering, she set off up the track to find Jack.

As soon as the door to the Hub rolled shut behind him, Ianto breathed a sigh of relief. Home territory at last. He headed for the coffee machine the way a drowning man heads towards a lifebelt.
'So,' he called to Tosh over his shoulder. 'Are we sure that Professor Dwyer isn't going to combust when he finds his artefact has been stolen.'
'Not stolen,' she corrected him impatiently, 'Just borrowed by a lecturer at Aberystwyth, with the promise that it will be back to him tomorrow. That will give us 24 hours to look at it before any alarms are raised.'
'You better crack on then. Coffee?
'Please.' He was going to say something else, but he noticed that she had already opened the container and was already absorbed in what she was doing, so he smiled to himself and kept quiet.

Gwen tried to raise Jack on her mobile, but, typically for that area of South Wales, there was no signal, and not even Torchwood could do anything about that. Swearing to herself, she hurried up the track, feet slipping in the mud. When she finally reached the barn though it seemed deserted. A drop of rain dripped off an overhanging branch, down her neck. If she found Jack holed up with a hot bloke in one of the caravans, she would have his guts for garters.
'Jack! She yelled, 'Where the hell are you?!' Nothing. Something just wasn't right, and it was making her nervous. Pulling herself together, she peered inside cautiously, but could see nothing in the gloom apart from a load of rubbish that should have been put on a bonfire years ago. Taking a deep breath, every sense on alert, she stepped inside. She saw him almost at once, laying face down on the floor, unmoving.
'Jack!' Regardless of anything that may have been lurking in the shadows, she rushed to his side, crouching down beside him, conscious only of the fact that he needed her. Even though he had told her that he couldn't die, she fully expected that one day, he would be proved wrong. She just didn't want it to be today. Fingers trembling, she reached for a pulse, then heaved a sigh of relief when she found it, faint and thready but definitely there. Gently she rolled him over, so his head was pillowed in her lap. His face was a mess. His nose had bled forcefully, staining the front of his shirt and congealing on the earth floor, but what worried her the most were the bloodstains around his eyes, where it looked as though he had cried bloody tears. 'Oh God.' She knew she should get the SUV, get help, but she didn't want to leave him. Instead she took a tissue from her pocket and began to gently wipe away the blood from his face.

Jack moaned softly and struggled to open his eyes, wondering why everything hurt. The first thing he saw was Gwen looking down at him as if she'd seen a ghost. 'Am I hallucinating you?' He croaked.
Gwen let out the shaky breath that she hadn't realised she'd been holding.
'Bloody hell Jack Harkness, you scared me to death.' He struggled to sit up, and Gwen put her arm around his shoulders, holding on to him as if her life depended on it. 'Take it easy.'
'I'm fine.'
'Yeah, right, you look it. What the hell happened to you?' he looked round, seeing the pod lying inert in the shadows.
'That thing there isn't as benign as it looks.'
'Right, only to me it looks like a dustbin.'
'It's a lot more than that, trust me. We need to get it back to the Hub, fast.' Clambering to his feet, he was surprised when the world spun around him. Gwen grabbed him before he fell over.
'Have I told you before that you are a bloody stubborn man, Jack?' he took a deep breath, but the moment he moved towards the pod, he felt static in his head. Feeling something on his face, he wiped his hand across it — his nose had begun to bleed again. Gwen tightened her grip on him, as he fought to stay upright.
'What's wrong?'
'Can't you feel it?' She shook her head.
'I can't feel anything.' Walking over to what still looked to her like a lump of plastic, she gave it a nudge with her foot. Nothing. 'Doesn't seem to be doing much.'
'You obviously haven't got the knack. I'll go and get the SUV, and get it loaded.'
'Don't be daft. You obviously can't get near the thing without it doing this to you. I've got a better idea. You get as far away from it as possible, whilst I go and fetch the SUV. I'll put the thing in the lead lined storage area under the back seats. You are not going to touch it.'
'Has anyone ever told you that you're bossy?'
'If you think I'm bossy you should meet my mam.'
'Remind me to pass on that.'

The artefact from Caerleon was fascinating. Tosh examined it under a microscope, loving the intricate folds in the metal and how it had changed over time, taking on the colour and texture of the surrounding soil. She was so intent on what she was doing that when Owen's voice came through her Bluetooth, she nearly jumped a mile.
'Owen, how's things?'
'Gone to hell in a handcart.' He replied succinctly, tension apparent in every syllable. 'This virus is bloody weird, nothing but minor symptoms for weeks, then, bam, internal bleeding.' Tosh gave him her full attention.
'Tell me what's going on.'
'I'm liaising with the PCT and the local health centre. We've set up temporary quarantine at the Centre, and are getting as many people as possible here for treatment. The only problem is, we can't treat it properly, ok at the moment we're keeping people as stable as we can using a combination of antibiotics and basic antivirals, but it's useless really. I've taken blood samples, normally I'd come back to the Hub and work on them, but I don't think we're going to find a cure until we find the source. Besides, I'm more use here'
'Ok, I need to speak to Jack and see what he suggests.'
'I've tried that, apparently they're out of range. Bloody Wales hasn't got into the 21st century yet, it's still stuck in the 15th.'
'Right,' she thought quickly. 'What do you want to do?'
'I'll give you the names of those that have been infected so far. I need to you to get as much detail as you can on them. If they so much as farted in the same general direction, I want to know.'
'No problem.' He read out a string of names, and her fingers flew across the keyboard, taking down all the information. What about you?' she asked finally, when she was finished.
'I'm sure I can find something to keep me busy. Don't take too long.' The phone went dead.

Owen looked around the chaos that had once been an orderly Medical Centre, but was fast being transformed into something resembling a field hospital. Sorting out a cover story for this wasn't going to be easy.
'Owen!' Liz yelled from the far side of the room, where she was talking to an elderly woman in a wheelchair. Owen saw blood trickling from the side of the woman's mouth, and his heart sank.
'On my way.'

It had been surprisingly easy to load the alien pod into the SUV, as, despite its size, the thing was light as a feather. Jack had tried several times to alert the Hub about what they were bringing back, but the phones remained resolutely dead.
'I told you it was the back of beyond down here.' Gwen said, trying not to sound smug, as she drove along the narrow lanes.
'It's rude to say 'I told you so,'' Jack responded, wincing slightly as she charged past a speed camera, which, thankfully didn't go off. 'You know I am perfectly all right to drive.' And it was true. Now that the pod was secured in lead lined storage, all he could feel was a slight buzzing in his ears, not unlike the constant hum of the equipment in the Hub, which didn't bother him at all.
'Yeah, I know, but I don't get the chance very often. You and Owen always monopolise the driving.'
'Haven't we had this discussion before?' he sighed.
'Yeah, but now you're a captive audience.' She smiled. Suddenly, their headsets crackled into life.
'We have contact.' Jack grinned. 'Tosh, its Jack. Boy have we got a treat for you.'
'Jack?' he could tell straight away that Tosh was worried. 'Oh, thank goodness for that.'
'Tosh, what is it?' He was all business now. She swiftly brought him up to date with the situation in Somerset, and the task that Owen had set her.
'The variables are considerable and it's taking me a lot longer than I thought. I'm worried that the situation down there is deteriorating.'
'Ok, you crack on with that; I'll get in touch with Owen and get an update. Ianto?'
'I'm here.' The younger man interjected.
'I need containment set up for the alien artefact that we're bringing in. It might be a while before we get round to looking at it, and I don't want it getting up to anything.'
'I'm on to it.'
'Right Gwen, I never thought I'd be saying this to you, but let's step on it. I have a nasty feeling that things are going to get worse before they get better.'

Owen had never been on a battlefield before, but if he had, he thought it would probably look not unlike Cannington Medical Centre did at that moment. The Primary Care Trust had mobilised a lot more quickly that he'd previously given them credit for, and had shipped in beds for twenty, which had been hurriedly set up in the main waiting area, and the conference room. He and Liz had now been joined by two other Dr's, both experts in tropical medicine, who had been sent down from Bristol and seemed to be quite enjoying the challenge. So far, only three of the patients had deteriorated to the extent that they were now in critical condition, and the treatment did seem to be having a holding effect if nothing else. Less easy to deal with was the constant barrage of questions from those who were just the walking wounded as to (a) what they had, (b) why they were there (c) why they had missed lunch and (d) whether they could sue anyone.
'Do you do this a lot?' asked Liz, sinking down onto a chair with an audible sigh. Her face was flushed and her forehead was damp with sweat.
'Yeah, all the time,' he deadpanned. 'You alright?' She wiped her hand across her face.
'Just knackered. You're not an oil painting yourself either.'
'Story of my life, sweetheart.' She gave him a look, and he held up his hands in mock surrender.
'Just a figure of speech.'
'What's going to happen? I mean, this can't go on indefinitely. Not to mention I've got Charlie coming back from his dad's tomorrow.'
'I've got people working on it. Can't guarantee you'll be home in time for Coronation Street though.'
'I'll settle for being home sometime before the weekend.' She checked her watch and stood up, stretching out her cramped back muscles. 'No rest for the wicked.'
'I must be bloody evil then.' Part of him wanted to contact Tosh again, but he knew that all he was doing was taking up time that they didn't have. The link was out there somewhere and they had to find it before it was too late.

Jack breezed into the Hub like a force of nature, leaving Gwen trailing in his wake. 'Tosh, what have you got for me?' Tosh looked up from her workstation, suddenly aware of how long she had been crouched over her keyboard.
'I'm getting there. I can't find a link between all of them, that would be too easy, but there are some connections. I'll show you.'
'Great. Ianto, how's the containment area coming along?' Ianto ran up the stairs from the basement, panting slightly.
'Ready. Sorry, I forgot to clean it up from last time, so it's a bit slimy.' Jack raised his eyebrows.
'That's very remiss of you; I might have to punish you.'
'Whatever you think is best.' He gave Jack one of his best enigmatic looks.
'Go with Gwen and get the pod out of the SUV. Be careful, at the moment we only know that it reacts to me, and doesn't react to Gwen. I don't want to find out the hard way that it doesn't like you either. Make it comfortable in the containment area, and then meet me in the Boardroom. Tosh, bring me what you've got.' She grabbed a sheaf of papers from the ever increasing pile on her desk, and hurried after him. 'By the way, how was your trip?'
'Great,' she smiled. 'The only problem is, that with all this going on I doubt if I'll have a chance to study the artefact before I have to give it back.'
'We'll think of something, maybe improvise a little. Now, tell me what you've found.'
'I've narrowed it down to three main possibilities. The only problem is, the fields aren't that narrow, it's mainly the local village shop, that most of the victims used at one time or another, although not every one of them used it in the days leading up to the first reports of the outbreak; four of the victims have the same cleaning lady, but as far as we know she hasn't come down with the virus, and two are mothers with children at the local playgroup. They are the only links I've been able to find.'
'Ok, let's think for a minute.' He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. 'Here's what we'll do. Get photos of those we know are infected and review the CCTV cameras at the store, make sure we know who shopped there and who didn't. Remember this is a village, more people use cash than cards. I also want to know who this cleaning lady is, and details of any of the others who have links with the playgroup, grandchildren, neighbours, whatever.'
'Might take a while.' He grinned at her.
'Tell you what I'll do. You get that done asap, and I'll use my charm to make sure you get to play with your artefact a bit longer, how about that?'
'Deal.' She smiled back. 'How much longer?'

It was the time in any case where he felt that they were just treading water, waiting for something to happen. Tosh, Gwen and Ianto were checking and rechecking the backgrounds of the infected, looking for links, something that could be used to track the source of the infection, whilst Owen was struggling to save lives at the sharp end, without causing mass panic in the locals. Jack wondered if there was something that they were missing, seeing the big picture was fine, but what if what they needed was nestling down in the right hand corner, almost out of sight? Restless, he got to his feet, and wandered away from the main area of the Hub, drawn, although he didn't know why, towards the lower containment area where Ianto and Gwen had stowed the alien pod, for when they had more time to actually look at it. As he drew nearer, he felt the pressure build in his head, but nothing like it had been down at Pendine — perhaps he was getting immune to it after all.
Gwen had been right when she had said that it looked like a plastic bin — albeit, he thought, a slightly oddly shaped one. As he watched though, the colours began to change and shimmer again, shifting from black, to blue and purple, forever moving, creating patterns that ebbed and flowed in front of his eyes. He wanted to touch it, feel it on his skin, but the more he wanted to, the more he knew he should hold back from it. One touch, that's all he wanted, how much could one touch hurt? He felt his hand reach out towards it as if he no longer had any control over it. The surface of the pod was like liquid, warm but cool at the same time, as it moved under his touch enveloping his fingers in warm softness. The buzzing in his head increased, and he thought for a moment that he was going to pass out again. Then...nothing, his head cleared, and when he looked down at the pod, it was solid again.
'Weird.' He muttered to himself.
'Jack!' Tosh's voice from above, sounding pleased with herself. 'I think I've got something!'

Time was of the essence, but it seemed that no-one had told the late afternoon traffic on the M5, and it ground to a halt just south of Bristol. Jack thumped the steering wheel in frustration.
'Dammit, why didn't I go for a Torchwood helicopter? It would have been much easier.' Gwen gave him a sideways glance, unsure whether he was being serious or not. When she couldn't tell, she decided to ignore the comment.
'Ok, so when we get there, what's the plan?
'From what Tosh has been able to find out, there seems to be two people who could be a link between all of the victims. One is the local Vicar, who seems to be one of those modern, motorbike riding Reverends that really get out into the community. He was in contact with several of the victims, plus he visits the playgroup regularly and shops locally. The second is a lady named Isobel Shawcross, who lives out of the village, but cleans for a lot of households including those affected. On the CCTV from the store, Tosh saw her with a child; I'm guessing grandson from her age, so there might be a link there as well.'
'And if not?'
'It's back to the drawing board without a paddle.' He mixed metaphors to try and lighten the mood.
'So find the link, then find the cure?'
'God, I hope so.' He was serious again. 'Owen's keeping things contained for now, but it won't be possible long term. If this gets out there will be mass panic, and no cover story we come up with will be able to damp it down.' Gwen nodded, caught up in her own thoughts. As he concentrated on the traffic ahead, Jack felt a wave of nausea wash over him, and swallowed. Odd.
'Jack?'
'I knew I shouldn't have had that last doughnut.'
'You're right there. What were you and Ianto doing, having a bet on who could make themselves sick first?'
'That's the thing with women; they don't appreciate the nutritional value of sugar.' He smiled, 'But maybe next time one less wouldn't hurt.' Ahead of them, the traffic congestion eased, and he put his foot down. They needed to get there, and fast. The afternoon was drawing to an end, and another day would bring with it its own set of problems.

Owen watched the SUV thunder into the car park in a hail of gravel, and felt relieved. He didn't want to admit it, but he'd missed having the team around him, just being there to bounce ideas off, or to yell at if things weren't going well. Liz was coping admirably, but she had no real idea what they were up against, and he wanted it to stay that way. A single mum with a career, she already had enough pressure in her life, without knowing the shit that Torchwood had to deal with on a day to day basis.
'You took your time.' He stalked over to them. He had to maintain his façade, one crack and someone would see that behind the mask, he was falling apart, and that would never do.
'Yeah, great to see you too Owen.' Gwen glared.
'What's the latest?' Asked Jack, striding towards the Medical Centre.
'We had our first fatality ten minutes ago. Her name was Barbara Fraser, the first one to start bleeding. I thought she was stabilized, but shit, what do I know?' Owens voice was matter of fact, but both Jack and Gwen could see that the loss of even one life bothered him. 'One positive thing though is that it seems that only the people who come into contact with the source are infected, I've got no cases of onward transmission, well, not yet anyway.'
'Then I hope we've found your source.' Jack outlined the possibilities that Tosh had narrowed down.
'Great, a trendy vicar and a mad old woman. Have fun.'
'Have you ever heard of the term 'politically correct'?' Gwen asked sweetly.
'Ok children play nicely. Owen, given that the vicar lives about a hundred yards in that direction,' Jack gestured to a lane which led past the medical Centre and up towards the church, 'Why don't you take a walk over and check him out. Gwen and I will go out to Holm View Farm and speak to Miss Shawcross.'
'Yeah, whatever.' He turned to walk away.
'Hey, Owen,' Jack touched the younger man lightly on the shoulder. 'Hang in there.' Owen nodded, and then walked briskly across the car park without looking back.

On any other day, Gwen would have enjoyed the ride out to Holm View Farm. Just outside the village, it nestled in the foothills of the Quantock Hills, with sweeping views across Bridgwater Bay, and the coast of South Wales beyond. The narrow lanes were banked with hedges, and the evening sky was tinged with orange and purple. It should have been beautiful, but she felt a sense of apprehension which grew the nearer they got to the place.
'This is it, isn't it?'
'Yeah. I think it is. The Vicar didn't add up somehow, and when I saw Isobel on the CCTV....' He shook his head. 'I know the picture quality was terrible, but there was something about her....'
'She's infected isn't she?'
'Difficult to tell, but yeah, I'd say so.'
'I hope we're not too late.' She stared intently at the road ahead as if willing the miles to disappear. Jack slid his hand over, and grasped hers briefly.
'It'll be ok.' Taking a sharp left hand bend, he pulled into the farm yard. 'We're here.'
It was obvious straight away that Holm View was no longer a working farm. The barns stood empty and silent, cobwebs hanging from doorframes that hadn't been opened for months, maybe years. In one corner a tractor that had seen better days sat rusting into dust, whilst the farm house itself descended into gentle decay, with its peeling paintwork, loose slates and general air of neglect. The place seemed deserted, and Gwen shivered.
'I don't like this.' She shivered, pulling her jacket tighter around her.
'Hey,' Jack yelled, 'Anybody home?!' No reply. Gwen thought she saw one of the curtains move, but when she looked again she couldn't be sure.
'Jack?'
'I saw it.' He shouted again. 'We're not here to hurt you, open up!' Gesturing to Gwen, he walked over to the front door, and tried the handle — it was locked. He knew he should draw his Webley, but he didn't want to scare someone who was probably terrified already. Trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, he leant his weight against the door, until the old lock opened with a gentle protest.
'Gwen, stay here.' She gave him a look that spoke louder than words.
The first thing that struck them was the smell, sweet but sour at the same time, with a tinge of something metallic. It made Gwen want to vomit, and she swallowed convulsively. Jack glanced at her, and she nodded to say she was ok. They walked softly into the passage which ran down the centre of the building, there were doors of to either side, leading, Gwen supposed, to the sitting rooms and the kitchen, and the stairs were at the end of the passage. Dust hung thick in the air, and somewhere a tap was dripping. Seizing the nearest door handle, Jack opened it with a click.
'Don't be frightened,' He said again. 'We're coming in.' Opening the door slowly, he stepped inside, Gwen behind him. She thought she would remember the tableau set out in front of her in her dreams for the rest of her life. Isobel Shawcross lay on the sofa, covered crocheted blanket that had once been yellow, but was now stained a coppery red with dried blood; her face was wet with sweat, and weeping sores stood out on her skin. Her breath came in ragged gulps, and her eyes were closed. She was not alone. Crouched in an armchair, was the most extraordinarily beautiful young man she had ever seen. He appeared to be in his late teens, with long black hair that fell almost to his waist, deep violet eyes, and skin that at first seemed to be translucent, but that seemed to oscillate and change colour as he breathed. He was wearing an old shirt, several sizes too big for him, and was obviously terrified, and, more obviously, not human.
'Gwen, wait outside,' Jack said softly.
'What? Don't be daft.'
'She's patient zero, and he's the cause. If you stay in here, you will be infected, and I'm not allowing it. Now go.'
'What about you?' He turned to her, and gave her a strange smile. As she watched, eyes wide, something......strange happened to him. His skin seemed to glow with an inner light, and then change, glistening as an opaque shield seemed to flow across his face and hands.
'Jack?' she backed away towards the door. 'Jack, what's happening to you?'

Part 4

Gwen didn't know what to do. There was a woman, probably dying in front of her, an alien child terrified out of his wits and Jack, well Jack wasn't even Jack anymore. She felt panic rise within her, and forced herself to keep calm.
'Gwen,' Jack spoke to her, but it wasn't his voice, it was deeper, more resonant, and without a trace of an accent.
'Who are you?' She tried to stop the tremble in her voice. 'What have you done to Jack?' As she watched, something changed, just a look, a movement, and suddenly it was Jack again.
'It's alright Gwen, don't panic.'
'What do you mean, 'don't panic?''! She panicked. 'What the hell's going on?'
'Do you remember the pod?' she nodded, her back now pressed against the wall. 'There was a life form inside it, and that life form is now inside me.'
'Oh, shit.' She breathed, as he seemed to change before her eyes again.
'My name is Amira, and I am part of a symbiotic race known as the Danae. When I was pulled through the fracture that you call the Rift, my host did not survive. Luckily I was able to find refuge in the protective pod.'
'So, you just decided to take over Jack's body?' Amira, well Jack, shook his head.
'No, believe me that was accidental. I knew that I could not bond with anyone on your world, as to bond with a symbiote would be fatal for you. Your Captain Jack though is so very different. When I sensed him, knew what he was, I couldn't help myself. I regret it very much.'
'Well, get out of him then.'
'I cannot, unless I return to the pod, I will die. Besides, at the moment I can assist you.'
'Oh yes, how's that?'
'The young creature here,' he gestured to the alien boy, who was watching them with terrified eyes, 'secretes a toxin on his skin which is poisonous to those on your world. I can protect Jack Harkness from the effects of that toxin.'
'So, you could protect Jack long enough to get the boy back to the Hub?' Jack nodded.
'But you must leave, or you will become infected. Go outside, contact your companions, I will do whatever you want.'

'What the fuck?' Owen responded succinctly, when Gwen brought him up to speed. She was pacing around the farm yard so frantically that she was practically carving a groove into the concrete.
'He says that he'll leave Jack if we get him back to the Hub and into the pod. He can get the alien back there as well. Ianto can set up quarantine until you can get the samples that you need to work on an antidote.'
'And you trust him? The distance between them couldn't disguise the incredulity in Owen's voice.
'Yes, no,' she stammered, 'Oh, god I don't know. I just don't see that we have a choice at the moment.'
There was silence on the other end of the line. Then, Owen took a deep breath.
'Ok, here's what we do. I'll come out to you, I've got full hazmat gear here anyway just in case, so I'll go with Jack and the alien back to the Hub and start working on a vaccine. Isobel Shawcross needs to be brought in here for medical treatment, I'll get that arranged.'
'What should I do?'
'Well, you could stand around and look pretty, but I think the best thing is for you to drive my car back to the Hub. Tosh can co-ordinate a distribution of the antidote once it's available. Course you need to keep an eye on Jack until I get there.'
'Ok, see you.' Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she went back inside.
The door to the sitting room was closed, and Gwen knocked to get Jack's attention.
'I've spoken to Owen.'
'I bet that was fun.' Jack's normal voice, as if nothing was wrong.
'He'll go back with you to the Hub so we can get the alien....'
'Joshua.'
'Sorry?'
'Isobel managed to tell me that the boy's name is Joshua.'
'Ok, we'll get Joshua into quarantine. Owen will be in full protective gear, and he'll go with you in the SUV.'
'That'll be an interesting trip. I can help him work on the antidote.'
'How come Jack? Not being funny but you're not a biologist.'
'No, but Amira is. He can help us Gwen.'
'I dunno Jack, I'm not sure about this at all. How's Isobel by the way?'
'She's hanging on in there.' Which was what they all needed to do, she thought until the whole mess could be unravelled.
Jack looked at the closed door and sighed. Today was certainly turning out to be eventful, and not in a good way. It was strange sharing your consciousness with someone else, no matter how well meaning. So far Amira had kept in the background, but, when he spoke, it was as if someone had turned his own mind off, and that he was nothing but a co-pilot in is own body. It was an experience he didn't want to repeat in a hurry. He turned to Joshua, who was huddled next to Isobel Shawcross on the sofa. She stroked his hair with fingers beginning to show the first twists of arthritis.
'Please.....bring him back to me.....he's all I've got.' Her voice was faint and rasping, and he hoped that Owen was able to get her back to the Medical Centre in time. Jack took her hand in his.
'I promise I'll do what I can.'

Gwen, Tosh and Ianto sat round the boardroom table, mugs of cold coffee untouched in front of them. After the first rush of activity when Owen and Jack had first brought Joshua back to the Hub, all they had been doing was waiting, and Gwen couldn't take much more of it. She thought back to her conversation with them when she had arrived back at the Hub:
'So, where's Joshua?'
'Ianto has set up isolation for him. He'll be safe there. We'll work under full quarantine conditions as well, just to be on the safe side.'
'Apparently,' Owen chipped in, 'Amira says that the atmosphere on Earth is affecting him, although his metabolism is faster than ours, so he ages differently anyway, he thinks that it's being accelerated even more by being here.'
'So he could die?' Gwen recalled the desperation in Isobel's voice as she had begged Jack to return the boy she still thought of as a son.
'No,' Amira this time. Gwen started, still unable to get used to the transition. 'We will do everything we can to save him.'
'Wish us luck.' Owen was flippant, but Gwen knew that it was his natural defences talking, and that inside, he was as worried and uncertain as they were . As Owen went off to get started, she turned to Jack.
'Amira?' Jack nodded. 'Jack Harkness is my friend, and he's told me to trust you, so I will. But if you hurt him, then I will do everything I can to make sure it's the last thing you do.'
'I understand. Believe me Gwen, I do not want to harm anyone.' Gwen just wished she could believe him. So far nothing that had come through the Rift had been benevolent, and she wasn't about to believe that there could be a first time for everything.

'So,' Ianto asked for the fiftieth time, 'What do you reckon's happening?'
'God knows.' Tosh yawned, hardly able to keep her eyes open. 'They said they would let us know when they had some news, but not to go down because we could be infected.'
'I know what they said.' Gwen snapped, and then put her hand on the other woman's arm. 'I'm sorry Tosh, I didn't mean it.'
'It's alright, we're all worried.' She yawned again, and checked her watch. Nearly 2 am.
'Look, why don't you both get some sleep,' suggested Gwen. 'Tosh, you'll need to be bright eyed tomorrow if you have to get the antidote distributed.' For a moment, she though Tosh would argue, but in the end she nodded, and stood up.
'You will wake me if there's any news?'
'Course I will.' Gwen gave her a clumsy hug, still not sure about whether Tosh enjoyed spontaneous displays off affection. 'Ianto?'
'Oh, I think I'll stay around for a while, just in case.' He grabbed a wooden box from the floor. 'How's your chess?'
'Crap,' she replied succinctly. 'I could manage a couple of rounds of Snap though, if you've got any cards.'

In the bowels of the Hub, Owen, in full protective gear worked steadily in a makeshift lab. Rows of test tubes were lined up in front of him like small glass soldiers, and several cultures were growing in Petri dishes close to a powerful electron microscope. Next to him, Jack, wearing just his ordinary blue shirt and trousers scribbled notes onto a pad before putting another glass vial into a centrifuge. Apart from the electronic hum of technology, there was silence in the room.
'You can talk to me you know.' Jack said, when the silence became too much.
'How can I talk to you,' Owen turned to look at him, his expression unreadable, 'when I don't know you?' Jack sighed.
'It's me Owen. Nothing has changed.'
'So you say. How do I know that it's you saying it though? If it were up to me, you'd be in a cell until we found out what was happening.'
'So, why aren't I?' Jack didn't even try to keep the belligerence out of his voice.
'Because, right now, we don't have a choice.' Owen snarled. 'This,' he gestured round the lab, 'is more important that anything right now. Gwen and the others trust you to help find a cure, and I'm prepared to go along with that. Afterwards, all bets are off.' Jack nodded.
'I can live with that.'

For the second time in as many days, Gwen woke up with her face down on a desk. Practice did not make perfect, and she groaned.
'Oh, shit.' Stretching out her cramped muscles she glanced at her watch — almost 5.30am. Opposite her, Ianto slept on, head pillowed on the pack of cards. She knew that he'd been awake after she had drifted off as the cards had been arranged into a game of solitaire that was still half finished in front of him. Quietly, so as not to wake him, she slipped out of the room. At her work station, Tosh was gazing at the artefact that she and Ianto had brought back from Caerleon, although Gwen could tell that her mind was elsewhere, and, on the sofa behind her, Owen slept the sleep of the exhausted.
'What's happening Tosh?' Gwen asked softly, so as not to disturb him.
'He say's its going ok, but slowly. Jack told him to take a break.' Gwen saw the fond look that stole over Tosh's face when she looked at Owen, and turned away. That chapter in her life was closed, and if she were to be honest, should not have been opened in the first place. She just wished that Tosh would do something about her obvious feelings for him, instead of just living in hope. Still, it was none of her business.
'Where is Jack?'
'Outside, getting some fresh air.'
'I'll go and check on him, I don't like the idea of him wandering around with that thing inside him.' She hurried off towards the heavy round metal door that shut the Hub off from the outside world. Tosh sighed, and went back to her examination of the alien artefact, she was a patient person by nature, but sometimes waiting was too much, even for her.

The first thing that Gwen realised when she stepped outside the Hub was that the weather had changed. A howling wind blew across the marina, dashing stinging rain into her face as she huddled as far as possible into her jacket. It should have been getting light, but night was determined to hang on as long as possible, and the heavy dark clouds didn't appear to be going anywhere in a hurry. Mermaid Quay was deserted, even the seagulls, and the cat that lived in the seafood restaurant had decided to be somewhere else, and Gwen could not blame them. Last nights rubbish, as yet uncollected blew around in a swirling maelstrom of debris; the sound of crashing coke cans a jarring accompaniment to the howling wind. Looking round, Gwen couldn't see a soul, but then she saw him, standing outside the Pierhead building, gazing across the marina, coat billowing out behind him, completely oblivious to wind and weather. Swearing under her breath, she hurried over to him.
'Bloody hell Jack, what the are you doing standing out in this?' Ok, maybe it wasn't the most tactful of beginnings. For a moment she though he hadn't heard her as he just continued to stare out into the rain. 'Are you all right?'
'Apart from having a symbiote in me you mean?'
'Well, yeah. I suppose that was a bit of a daft question. What does it feel like?' He gave her a tired smile.
'Like the lights are on, somebody's home, but it ain't you.' He rubbed his hands over his face. 'Gwen, not every alien that we come into contact with is going to want to harm us.' It was such an echo of what she herself had been thinking earlier that she shuddered. There goes the tap dancing on my grave again, she though.
'It's all very well for you to say that Jack, but the only ones I've come across so far don't seem to be that friendly.'
'One day, you'll meet someone from another world who's one of the good guys, someone who would sacrifice himself for others in a heartbeat, or maybe the beat of two hearts.' Jack chuckled at his own private joke. 'Amira and even Joshua aren't the bad guys Gwen, they're just creatures who are different, and caught up in something that they never wanted, and in Joshua's case, don't understand.' Sighing wearily he closed his eyes and let the cold rain run down his face. Gwen rubbed her hand over his back.
'I just want you back safe, Jack.'
'I know.' He took a deep breath. 'Come on, let's get back to it. There are people out there relying on us.' She smiled, and handed him a tissue. 'What's this for?'
'Your nose is bleeding again.'

Ianto ended his call to Liz Marshall, feeling that perhaps, even if things weren't improving, they weren't getting any worse.
'How are things there?' Asked Tosh.
'Not so bad. Everyone appears to be stable, and hopefully will stay that way until we can deliver the antidote.'
'What about Isobel Shawcross?' Gwen chipped in, 'She was in a pretty bad way.'
'Apparently she's a fighter. Dr Marshall is hopeful you got to her in time.'
'I hope so to.' Gwen stood up from her workstation, unable to settle. 'God, I wish something would happen.'
About an hour later, just after 10 am, something did. Out of the blue, one of the chemical combinations that Owen and Jack had been working on reacted positively against the alien pathogens.
'We've got it!' Owen yelled, punching the air, uncharacteristically enthusiastic. Jack just grinned, his joy tinged with sadness. 'Amira?'
'Yes?'
'Well,' Owen studied his feet for a moment. 'I just wanted to say that I couldn't have done it without your help. I still don't like you, but, well, thanks.'
'I am grateful. I think.' Owen tapped into his Bluetooth:
'Tosh, get hold of the PCT, and Liz Marshall, we've got an antidote that we need to get synthesised and distributed asap. I suggest specific inoculation for those already infected and a preventative dose in the water supply just in case.'
'Ok, leave it to me. Are you taking a break now?' Owen glanced across at Jack, who said softly.
'What about Joshua?'
'Not yet Tosh, we want to try something first.'

It was much later in the day when they all gathered in the boardroom for a debriefing session. Owen was tired, but had an air of triumph about him that no-one had seen for a long time.
'So, what does the outside world think happened?' Asked Gwen, flicking the TV on to Points West, the local news bulletin for Somerset. Unsurprisingly the problems in Cannington were the lead story, but the outbreak of illness amongst the villagers was being blamed on a leak of irradiated water from the power station. 'Irradiated water?' she asked incredulously.
'What was it that Ed Wood said?' Jack chipped in. 'Joe Public never clocks a thing?' When in doubt blame the nuclear industry, it gets enough bad press by itself so a bit more isn't going to hurt.'
'Too right. It looks as though everyone is responding to treatment though, which is great. Too bad someone had to die though.'
'You did everything you could.' Tosh interjected. Owen didn't respond, and she looked away.
'Is Joshua going to stay here indefinitely?' Ianto asked, 'Only I may need to find him better quarters.'
'Nope,' Owen gave a huge, shit eating grin. 'He can go back to Isobel.'
'How's that?'
'Because I am a fucking genius.' Owen responded modestly. 'Although I suppose Amira helped.' Jack gave a nod of acknowledgment, they both knew that the skills and knowledge had been Amira's alone. 'We managed to retro engineer a gene treatment for him. Basically, he'll no longer be toxic to us, and he'll now age at a normal rate. Give him some contact lenses and he'll pass for human.'
'So what will happen to him?' Gwen asked, still haunted by the boys violet eyes. 'Isobel Shawcross is the nearest thing to family that he has.'
'I've spoken to the vicar, who, against the odds is a decent bloke,' Owen admitted. 'He thinks Joshua is Isobel's nephew who has basically been running wild somewhere. He'll work with her to educate him at home to start with, before going to a local school, and try and integrate him into the local community, Scouts, that kind of thing. You know what people are like, give him six months and they won't even give him a second look.'
'I'll work on some papers for him, make sure he's got a Birth Certificate, that kind of thing.
'Thanks Tosh, when is Joshua going back? Asked Jack.
'I'm taking him with me when I go back tomorrow.'
'You're going back to Cannington?'
'Well, yeah.'
'Got a date, have we?' Gwen teased. He had the grace to blush slightly
'As it happens I have. We're off to McDonalds, then to the pictures to see Shrek something or other.' He looked round at them, wondering why they looked slightly perplexed. Then he twigged. 'She's got a three year old.'
'Someone your intellectual equal then?' Gwen chipped in sweetly. Owen glared.
'Right,' Jack checked his watch. 'Good job done boys and girls, I suggest you all head off home.' He stood up and stretched, feeling the tension in his back and shoulders, then walked briskly to his office. The others were about to leave, when Owen grasped Gwen's arm.
'Hang on,' He hissed, as Tosh and Ianto wandered out of the boardroom.
'What?' she wasn't particularly happy having a one to one with him, even now.
'I don't trust that thing inside Jack to bugger off now everything is over. We need to tackle Jack about it.' She looked over to Jack's office, where he sat behind his desk, gazing at a pile of paperwork.
'I don't think now is the right time.'
'Then when is? It ain't going to get any easier.' She sighed, confrontation was the last thing that she felt like.
'Look, leave it to me, I'll talk to him.'
'Yeah? And what if he won't do anything? Owen's tone grated on her nerves.
'I said, I'll talk to him. Now do me a favour and let it go.'
'All right, I'll leave it to you, but you might need this.' From his pocket he took out a flat black disc like a skimming stone, and pressed it into her hand.
'What the hell is it?'
'Washed through the Rift about six months ago, it will deliver a powerful electric shock, a bit like a Tazer.'
'You want me to electrocute Jack?' She was incredulous.
'Not unless you have to. Might shock the symbiote into leaving though.'
'Great, I'll tell him it was your idea shall I?' Nonetheless she took the device, slipping it into the pocket of her jeans. 'Are you getting off home then?' He nodded.
'Yeah, I'll take the hint. But don't leave it too long Gwen, or I'll have to deal with it for you.' She glared at his retreating back before sinking back into her seat. No evening curled up in front of the tv with Rhys and one of his lasagnes for her then.

Ianto tidied up the debris that had accumulated around the Hub, wondering how exactly five people and one pteranodon could generate so much rubbish between them. It had been a busy couple of days, and he still felt wired, as if he had to be ready to be off again at any minute. He'd written Sarah's phone number on a post it note, and stuck it to the side of his screen, and he wondered, not for the first time, how she was doing. Well there, was one way to find out, and life was too short and too precious to keep just wondering. Taking a deep breath he tapped the number into his phone.
'Sarah? Hi, it's Ianto, I know I'm seeing you on Sunday, but....well, I was wondering if you were free later?'
Unfortunately, as Tosh secured the artefact in its case, she knew that her time studying it was coming to an end. It was an interesting anomaly, but not something that Torchwood would need to retain, and it had to go back to its rightful owners. As she sealed the box, her phone rang.
'Professor Dwyer? Oh yes, I'm just getting it boxed up ready to be sent on.' She listened to the voice on the other end of the line, one that sounded far too young to be a professor of archaeology. When she had been to the dig at Caerleon, the professor had sported unkempt grey hair, a wiry beard and an unfortunate taste in hand knitted stripy jumpers. 'Oh, you're in Cardiff?... Ok, say the university bar in about an hour? See you there.' She slid the container into her bag, shut down her screen, and grabbed her coat. Not everything, she resolved, could be planned days in advance. Occasionally you just had to seize the day.

The Hub was quiet and still. Even Myfanwy had settled high in the upper levels so the scratch of her wings didn't disturb the silence. In isolation, Joshua slept peacefully in a drug induced sleep, whilst the cells of his body changed and adapted to allow him to live a normal life on a planet that wasn't his by birth, but would soon be his only home. Gwen wandered around, knowing that she could not leave without speaking to Jack, but wanting to put it off for as long as possible. Typical bloody Owen, bugger off when the going got difficult and leave her to sort it out. Her hand strayed to the pocket of her jeans, and she felt the smooth edges of the taser, whilst the responsibility lay heavily on her heart. In the end, she knew that she had to do something, or she'd chicken out completely.
Jack was in his office making notes in a battered leather bound journal, so she leant against the door frame and watched him write.
'I thought you'd gone home.' He said neutrally, without looking up.
'Not yet.' She took a deep breath, really not wanting to go any further, but knowing that she had to. 'Jack, you know there's something you've got to do.' He stopped writing, but still would not meet her eyes. After a silence that seemed to stretch on forever, he finally replied:
'I know. I guess I've been putting it off.'
'Why?'
'Because,' Amira's voice rang around the room, 'Being in the pod is like a living death. Forever may come and go, and I would still be there, until I find another that could take me.'
'I'm sorry,' Gwen stated simply. 'I can't imagine what its like. You have to know though that Jack will help you, whether it takes him months or years. He won't forget you.'
'I understand. I am also grateful for the freedom that has been given to me over the last few days. Once tasted, it is difficult to give up.' She opened her mouth to speak, but Jack held up his hand. 'I am not threatening you Gwen, I am just making an observation.'
'That's alright then.' The taser in her pocket felt like a lead weight. 'Come on, let's get this sorted out.'

Gwen knew that Ianto had moved the pod to what where it was to be finally stored, and she also knew that Jack had told him to keep it as far away from the main area of the Hub as possible, but this was ridiculous. The concrete steps seemed to go on forever, down into the bowels of the earth, and after a while the smooth render of the walls changed to rough brick, and finally the stairs gave way to a natural stone tunnel that lead off at right angles into the darkness. The walls ran with moisture, Green lichen crept up the rough surface like an alien infestation, and the damp hung in the air like a miasma. It was not pleasant.
'Bloody hell Jack, where are we going?'
'Be thankful you didn't work here a hundred years ago Gwen Cooper, or this would have been your office.' He stopped, and for a moment Gwen wondered why. Then, her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom and she made out a heavy metal door set into the wall of the tunnel. 'This is it.'
'Lovely.'
'It used to be a containment cell,' he explained, 'Although I must admit I don't know exactly what it contained. It's lined with lead, and there's only one entrance and one key.' He held open the door, and she peered into the darkness with obvious distaste. He clicked on the light, but it didn't make her feel any more inclined to go in.
'No, after you.' He gave her a grin and stepped into the cell. She followed him reluctantly, just wanting to get it over with so she could get back to civilisation. Ianto had loaded the pod onto a gurney, and in the faint light of the single light bulb, it glistened like the pupa of some enormous insect. Gwen shuddered. Jack stood silently for a moment, and she wondered whether he was talking to Amira in his head. Then he turned to her:
'Okay, let's do this.' Jack stretched out his hands towards the pod, and as Gwen watched, the whole surface began to change and distort; colours swam before her eyes, and as he touched it, the pod reacted, almost liquefying under his touch, and swirled around his fingers. Gwen watched, fascinated as Jack's hands seemed to merge with the pod, and she could almost see Amira's essence leeching out of him. Almost.
Suddenly, Jack tore his hands away from the pod, pressing them to the side of his head as he doubled over with a gut wrenching cry.
'Jack!' Gwen rushed to his side, 'What's happening?'
'I will not submit myself to this!' Amira's voice was, ragged, commanding. 'I cannot go back into darkness, I will not.' Jack sank to his knees, and she saw that he had blood on his face.
'We...had...a... bargain.' He forced the words through the waves of agony in his head. 'I...will...take... my...life...back.' She could see the war raging within him, as he fought for control. He looked at her, eyes full of pain, but with a steely determination that she knew only too well. Steeling himself, he spoke through clenched teeth. 'Gwen, the device that Owen gave you, use it....now.'
'What?' For a moment she stood there, dumfounded.
'Gwen!' He tore her name out of his mouth, and she pulled herself together. The small device slid neatly into the palm of her hand, and she gripped it tightly.
'Jack, I don't know what will happen.' She felt tears in her eyes and she blinked them back in annoyance.
'Just do it!' He forced himself to his feet, as blood tears began to trickle from the corner of his eyes, and gripped the pod so tightly that his fingers turned white. 'Now, Gwen.' Steeling herself, she pointed the taser at him, and squeezed it tightly. A fork of electricity crackled from it, and knifed into his back as he stood over the pod. He cried out, his body almost buckling, but held himself upright. 'More!'
'Oh God,' she sent up a silent prayer, squeezed it again and kept on squeezing at the lightening ripped into his body. The device still alive in her hands, she watched as Jack seemed to change in front of her, as Amira's essence flowed back into the pod, its iridescent surface opening to receive it. She released the pressure on the taser, but a look from Jack stopped her.
'I have to be sure.' She could feel the device searing into her palm but she kept up the pressure and tears ran down her cheeks that she was powerless to stop. The air crackled with static, as the electricity continued to rip into his body. Suddenly he let out a cry and fell to his knees, breaking contact with the pod. Gwen dropped the device onto the floor, and ran to him, taking him in her arms, her body trembling.
'Jack? Is it over?' She held him tightly, her fingers wound into his shirt, worried that if she let him go, he would somehow drift away from her. He looked at her, his face was pale, eyes tired and tracks of blood were already drying on his skin, but he was definitely Jack.
'Yeah,' he gave her his typical devil may care smile. 'It's over.'

Epilogue
Just after midnight and the city was asleep. Cardiff Bay was trapped under leaden skies, the stars hidden by impenetrable blackness, the water was still, lapping only gently at the quayside, the bars and restaurants were closed and locked down tightly, and even the hum of city traffic had receded to a murmur. Standing motionless in front of the Pierhead building, bathed in the gentle glow of its spotlighting, Gwen tasted the salt of the sea on her lips and felt the breeze lift her hair. She should be going home, crawling into bed next to Rhys and listening to him breathe, but she felt compelled to stay, and did not know why. She looked down at the dressing on her hand — when Jack had put antiseptic on it, it had stung for a second, but now she could hardly feel it. Jack too was healing, and she had left him what appeared to her to be asleep, in his quarters. She should be somewhere, anywhere else, but here.
Looking at her watch, she felt the world sigh, and stop......everything was still, held in silence like a fly in amber. Nothing moved, and no wind stirred.
She watched, not able to move, but filled with a sense of inner tranquillity, as an old lady walked slowly across the Plas, wrapped up against the chill of the night, and clutching an old wicker basket in her gloved hands. When she reached the Pierhead, she set the basket down on one of the stone benches, so close to Gwen that she could almost touch her, and uncovered it, a faint smile on her wrinkled face. Gwen saw that it contained nothing but kitchen scraps.
'There aren't many that can see me.' The woman said softly, smiling faintly at Gwen. She opened her mouth to reply, but the words took time to form.
'Who are you? What are you doing?'
'What I've always done.' She tipped the contents of the basket onto the paving. A strange noise split the silence, like the grinding of stone on stone. As Gwen watched, the gargoyles that adorned the Victorian gothic building detached themselves from their brick plinths and glided on carved wings to the floor, where they proceeded to devour the scraps with gusto. 'They guard the city you know.' The woman said matter of factly, 'They always have done since this place was built. It's said that a spell was cast on them, so they would always see Cardiff safe.'
'But this is just the old Bute Docks office building.'
'It's more than that, love. This is a beacon, a symbol of hope for the city. Those who helped the marquis fund it wanted to make sure that it was always going to be. Of course, the city has other guardians now, but they are still needed.' She reached down and scratched one of the beasts behind its stone ear. Gwen could have sworn she heard it purr with pleasure. 'They used to guide ships into port in bad weather you know.' Gwen nodded, somehow, she did know. When their meal was done, the gargoyles rooted around on the ground for a moment, then flew back up onto their perches; the old lady gathered up her basked, and made to move on. 'See you again dear.'

The breeze blew the tang of salt onto her face, and Gwen shook her head. What the hell? She looked at her watch, and couldn't believe she had been standing here staring into space for ten minutes. Honestly, she thought, she must be losing her marbles. Pulling her jacket around her she hurried away, as the gargoyles watched her go. Another one of their charges, safe for the night.

The End

***

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