Title: Torchhouse
By: ninefics
Word count: 2,239
Characters: Cameron, Captain Jack, Chase, Cuddy, Foreman, Gwen, House, Ianto, Owen, Tosh, Wilson. Nathan (OC).
Fandoms: Torchwood/House MD
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Nothing specific. It's set outside the canon timeline for "House" and somewhere between episodes 4 and 9 of "Torchwood".
Disclaimer: As with all fanfiction, this is not-for-profit, just for fun, and all the assorted other words that really mean nothing but look like an attempt.
Author's note: For whatagoodboy71, who wondered what would happen if House met Captain Jack. This story assumes some familiarity with both shows, but if I've done this well enough, you won't have to be an expert on either to understand this.
Summary: It starts with a routine investigation by Torchwood and ends up as House's patient of the week.

September, 2008
Cardiff, Wales, UK

Owen Harper touched his ear and opened the communications link to The Hub. "Lost 'im in the airport, Jack. I'm sorry," he panted. He came so close to catching him. His fingers had brushed the back of the boy's shirt but failed to find purchase as the boy twisted sideways and disappeared.

Literally disappeared. One second there and the next second gone, with not even the popping sound to indicate air rushing in to fill the space where he had been.

"Say that last part again?" Tosh looked up at the screen even though it was only showing the swirling blue screensaver.

"I said there wasn't even that popping sound you get when something teleports." He drew another breath and tried to calm himself down. Christ, he wanted a beer. Maybe he could just pop into the Echo...

Jack's voice put an end to that. "You lost him at the airport, Owen?"

"That's what I said, yeah. He just vanished."

Tosh looked over her shoulder at Jack. "Owen said he disappeared. It wasn't a teleportation. There wasn't the usual signs of it."

"No blips, either." Ianto added. "Teleportation always shows a distinct wave pattern. There was nothing like that anywhere near Owen's location."

"So whatever he's got gives him the power of invisibility. Probably some sort of a cloaking device. Owen, come on back home. Tosh, you keep trying to figure out the signature of the thing. See if we can narrow down the race that built it. That ought to give us an idea of how it operates. It's got to be small. Something for a ship would be huge. Impossible to carry or at least conceal." He noticed Gwen's confused stare and gestured a cube. "A ship's cloaking device is bigger than a breadbox. Who came up with that as a unit of measure, anyhow? Ianto!"

"Wasn't me, sir. I've always wondered how one would describe a breadbox." He mimed his own cube. "Hey, this breadbox is the size of a breadbox."

Jack bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "Research, Ianto. Find me everything about everything that renders the holder invisible. Invisibility cloaks, rings, charms, potions... anything we've got. Gwen, you take the surveillance footage and see if you can get a good shot of our invisible friend. Find out who he is, where he's from, and why he was running to the airport. Hopefully he hasn't left Cardiff."



November, 2008
Torchwood 3
Cardiff, Wales, UK

Something flashed in the corner of Tosh's main monitor. She glanced over from the secondary monitor where her code was displayed and moved the mouse to the blinking icon. A database alert. She double-clicked and quickly scanned the text. “Jack? Jack!”

He looked up from the stack of government reports he was supposed to be reading. “What is it?”

“Remember the disappearing guy? He's turned up.”

Jack was away from his desk and standing behind Tosh in the blink of an eye. “Where?”

Tosh tapped a few keys and pulled up the information. “He's in hospital. Irregular heartbeat, hallucinations, fever, systemic failure...”

“Which hospital?” Owen joined the two and read through the medical information. “Princeton-Plainsboro? Where the hell's that?”

“Princeton, New Jersey.”

“America.” Owen grumbled.

Across the room, Ianto turned his headset on and tapped away at his keyboard. He transferred funds from the Torchwood petty cash account to their US bank.

“Ianto. Two tickets to New Jersey. Owen and me.” Jack turned to Tosh. “I want you, Ianto, and Gwen to stay here. Keep an eye on things. The last thing we need is something coming through the rift while no one's here. I'll also need you to fake up some records for Owen and our disappearing friend. We're going to need access to him, so make him Owen's patient. Put together a medical history for him. Ianto, monitor his current treatment. Make sure they don't do anything that might lead them to discover the artifact. Gwen, pull the records for for the invisible man and the artifact. I need that on my desk before we leave. Ianto! When are we leaving?”

“four-thirty, sir. That'll get you there about noon. I've flagged your passports and tickets to get you through security and customs without question in case you need to pack anything that might raise suspicions.”

“Good man,” Jack patted Ianto on the shoulder as he passed his desk. Unseen by the other members of Torchwood, Jack's thumb caressed the nape of Ianto's neck. Ianto didn't even crack a smile. Good man, thought Jack. “Go home and pack what you need, Owen. We don't have a lot of time to waste.”



“It's like time travel,” Owen said.

Jack snapped back into full wakefulness. “What?”

Taken aback, Owen leaned away from Jack and repeated himself. “We left at suppertime. We'll be getting there at lunchtime. It's like time travel.”

Jack regained his composure. “Oh. Yeah. You're right.”

“When's the last time you were in the States?”

“A long, long time.” Jack avoided eye contact and fiddled with the buttons on the seat, paging the flight attendant. Ianto had booked them in first class, ensuring maximum comfort and privacy.

The stewardess appeared and smiled warmly. “Gentlemen?”

“I'd like a water, please. Cold, but no ice.”

“Beer, please?”

“Right away, sirs.” She disappeared as silently as she'd arrived.

Jack flipped open the cover of his notebook. They all had PDAs, but he still preferred the paper-and-pen method of note taking. It was more reliable and not likely to fail at a critical moment.

“Nathan Blake. Aged twenty-four. Resident of Rhode Island and a student at Princeton University in New Jersey. He was in Cardiff as part of a graduate program in history. He disappeared, no pun intended, after a visit to Llandaff Cathedral. That's most likely where he picked up the cloaking device. We picked up his signal when he got back into the city centre. You gave chase and lost him at the airport, where he was probably trying to get home. The cloaking device is most likely Vrubos in origin.”

The two men fell silent as the flight attendant returned with their drinks, then resumed after she had gone.

“Do we have any idea where it is in him?”

“One of his hands. It's a tiny device. Looks like a sliver of metal, but a scan for metal won't find it because it's not terrestrial. He probably thought he just stuck himself and probably activated it accidentally the first time when he touched it. You know how you said he disappeared like that?” Jack snapped his fingers. “It might have actually been that. The snap could trigger the cloaking mechanism.

“The Vruboi are humanoid, which is why the device works for Nathan. Unfortunately humans are not mentally wired for invisibility. The hallucinations and irregular heartbeat are because his mind's stressing out. The fever and systemic breakdown is his body trying to push out the device. Could also be an allergic reaction to the device. It could be toxic to non-Vruboi.”

Owen consulted his own notes. “Tosh has set me up as his attending physician in Cardiff, and you as the head of his graduate program. I was apparently treating him for headaches and tachycardia before he disappeared. I've had no contact with him since he left Wales, and had no idea he was in hospital until a request for his medical records was sent.” He skimmed a few more paragraphs. “A doctor Gregory House has taken him on as a patient. That means he's been to other doctors who've given up trying to diagnose him. This is going to be interesting.”



Princeton, New Jersey, USA

Foreman read the patient's history to the diagnostics team. “The patient has been experiencing hallucinations, tachycardia, fever... he's showing all the signs of having a systemic infection, but hasn't responded to any antibiotics. His regular doctor even began the standard treatments for early stage Lupus, but he's shown no improvement.”

“That's because it's never Lupus. I thought we finally all agreed on that,” House drummed his cane on the floor between his feet and frowned.

“He's frowning,” Cameron remarked.

“He's interested,” Chase replied.

House ignored them. “What's the rest of his story?”

Cameron took up the file and flipped back a few pages. “Graduate student in European history. He was in Wales at the start of the semester. His parents say he came home after a few weeks. He says he was in a relationship with another student, then found out she was married and came home because he was afraid of her husband.”

Foreman interrupted before House could ask his usual questions. “The kid is clean. No drug use and no STDs. No poisoning. We even checked for the more unusual heavy metals. He's scheduled for an MRI later this afternoon, but he's had that and a CT scan already. We're doing it again in case they missed something the first time, or there was something too small to see and it's gotten bigger.”

House glared. “I hate it when you guys do that.” He waved his hand dismissively and slid his chair back. “Go forth and diagnosticize, my children. Come back when you've got something more interesting than a hypochondriac paranoid graduate student.”



Lunchtime
Princeton, New Jersey, USA

House took a bite of his Reuben and turned the pages of Monster Truck Monthly. Stupid Wilson was with a stupid patient so he was forced to eat lunch alone, at his desk.

He leaned over and looked out of his office at the conference table. Chase was sitting there, eating his own lunch and flipping through a magazine. House put his magazine aside and checked his email.

YOUR CREDIT CARD IS ABOUT TO EXPIRE! membership@livenudegirls.com
RUSSIAN GIRLS HOT 4 U qwerty@hotrussianbabes.ru
KEEP IT UP FOR HOURS joblo@v1agrav1agrav1agra.net
Please stop surfing porn at work netadmin@ppth.edu
!Patient History: Blake, Nathan K. lisa.cuddy@ppth.edu


The cursor hovered briefly over “Russian girls”, then dipped to the email from Cuddy. Sometimes the mystery was more important than the pornography. Not that he'd ever admit that out loud.

To: greg.house@ppth.edu
From: lisa.cuddy@ppth.edu
Subject: !Patient History: Blake, Nathan K.
Date: November 11, 2008, 11:30 AM

House,

Blake's doctor and graduate director are arriving from Cardiff this afternoon. PLEASE don't start an international incident! Allow them access to the patient and keep them in the loop as far as treatments. Please. Please?!

Cuddy

Files attached: 001-214-44blakenathank.pdf


House clicked back to his inbox and selected the membership email.

He was filling in his information when Cameron knocked on the doorframe. “House? Nathan's doctor is here.”

“I thought I was Nathan's doctor?”

“His other one. The one from his graduate program? Cuddy said she emailed you about this.”

“She did. I don't care. He's my patient and whatever country doctor he was seeing before me can just go sit in the waiting room with his parents. Where's Cardiff, anyhow?”

“It's in Wales.”

House looked up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. The man standing next to Cameron was tall, good looking, and dressed in a pseudo-retro military style. Cameron looked smitten. House scowled.

“You don't sound Welsh.”

“I'm not. I'm American. Jack Harkness, head of the Cardiff university history graduate program. This is Doctor Owen Harper, Nathan's physician.”

House's eyes narrowed. Doctor Harper's eyes narrowed. House crossed his arms. Doctor Harper crossed his. Cameron rolled her eyes. "They could be at this for hours," she said as she lightly touched Jack's arm. "Can I get you a coffee, mister Harkness?"

"Jack, please. And I'd love some." He followed her to the coffee maker, leaving Owen and Doctor House to glower.

"So you're his doctor," Owen said.

"Better me than you, considering you couldn't even keep track of him. You apparently didn't even know he was back in the US."

Owen shrugged "Students. Who can keep up with them? It's not like I was tethered to him. I'd like to see him, if you don't mind."

"I mind."

"House!" Cameron shouted from the other room. "Be nice!"

House let out a weary sigh and shrugged. "Women."

Owen nodded. "She one of those 'sunshine and puppies' and 'remember he's a person not a problem' types?"

"I see you've met Cameron," House stood and picked up his cane.

"Someone like her, yeah." To Owen's credit, he didn't acknowledge House's cane. He just took a step back to allow the other doctor to pass him, then followed him out of his office and into the hallway.



They stopped just outside the patient's door. "So what's so important about our boy that you and Captain America had to fly all the way across the Atlantic?"

Owen gave a non-committal shrug. "We're a small group. Dedicated to the security and comfort of our students. One of them goes missing and ends up in hospital, we like to check up on them. Make sure they're alright. Find out if they're coming back to Cardiff."

House's cane shot out and blocked Owen before he could cross into Nathan's room. "It took you over a month to realise he wasn't there."

"Well, we're not that small. There are other students. It's independent study, so we can't keep an eye on everyone."

"I don't know when I've ever heard such utter bullshit in my life." House lowered his cane. "Go in. But don't touch him. Don't touch any of the equipment. Don't do anything to my patient.

Owen seethed silently and stood with his hands folded behind his back. He leaned over Nathan's bed and stroked his chin in a way he hoped conveyed his absolute irritation and disgust at being treated like an idiot.

"Given him antibiotics?"

House dropped into a chair. "Of course."

Owen looked at House, calculated if there was enough space between the foot of Nathan's bed and the chair House occupied for Owen to read the chart without getting whacked by the cane. By his best estimate it was going to be close, but it was a necessary risk.

Owen reached out and snatched the chart from the stand near the end of the bed and jumped back to the far side before House had time to react. Something that might have been admiration flickered in Greg House's eyes. Owen smirked and thumbed through the paperwork.

"Aw, come on!" Owen tossed the chart onto the bed. Nathan whimpered and shifted, lost in uneasy sleep. "Sorry, mate. But seriously, House. Lupus? When's the last time anyone actually had Lupus?"

House stood, arms raised to the sky, victorious. "Thank you! Now go back to my office and tell the rest of them that. I swear it's like once a week one of them says 'It could be Lupus.'"

"And one day it will be Lupus, and we'll all laugh at you." Foreman stepped into the room and offered his hand to Owen. "Doctor Foreman. You must be Doctor Harper. Cameron filled me in. I was just coming to get Nathan for his MRI. Are you interested in sitting in?"

"If you two are going to talk shop, I'm going to find Wilson." House stalked off, more than happy to leave the patient to people who actually cared.



Wilson was in the diagnostics department, standing next to Action Figure Man. He couldn't tell what they were saying, but something Action Man said made Wilson blush and take an awkward step back. House sped up and stopped dangerously close to Wilson's shoulder.

"Finding everything you need, Harkness?"

Jack nodded and reached out to touch Wilson's shoulder. "Doctor Wilson was just asking me about my headset." He indicated the Bluetooth device in his ear. "I told him I'm so used to it I don't notice it, but I feel positively naked without it."

Stress on the word "naked." Wilson lowered his head and coughed to cover the fact that he was blushing again. And laughing. House wasn't amused. "You should turn it off. It can interfere with hospital equipment. In fact, you should take it out of your ear and shove it in your..." He was aware of the presence of Cuddy in the hallway. "Pocket," he finished. "Come on, Wilson. You're buying me something to eat."

"You've got half a sandwich in there on your desk," Wilson protested, even as he followed House.

"Something stinks," said House as they waited for the elevator. Wilson discreetly sniffed the lapel of his lab coat. "This... Harkness and Harper showing up. Harkness and Harper. It sounds like a Vaudeville act. Who are they? Why are they really here? Harper gave me some nonsense about how they're soooo dedicated to their students." They stepped onto the elevator.

"You know, some doctors really do care about their patients. And Jack seems nice enough."

House jabbed at the buttons. "Great. The British are invading, and you're getting a crush on their leader."

8:00 PM
A motel in Princeton New Jersey

Jack swept the room for bugs and found it clean of all three kinds. Nothing alien, nothing local, and (shockingly) no actual insects of any sort. He sat down on the bed and stretched out, crossing his legs at the ankles. Owen sat down in a particularly ugly yellow chair that looked like it had been reupholstered one too many times.

Despite the search, each man wore their headsets for increased security during their call. The blue status indicator on Jack's pulsed lightly, indicating the call was dialing.

In Cardiff, a very sleepy sounding Tosh answered the phone. "Jack, I'm in the conference room. We've got you on speaker."

"Great. Who all is there?"

"All of us," Gwen said. "Jack, it's one in the morning here. Rhys is livid. Couldn't this have waited until a better hour?"

"Sorry, no. We might only have a little bit of time before the doctor in charge here does something drastic. Ianto!"

"Sir?"

"I'd like to thank you for these really great accommodations and the fact that I've got to share a room with Owen."

"I was a bit limited in my selection, based on the short notice, Captain. I apologise if they're not up to your usual standards."

"There's only one bed in here, you know."

"No, sir, I was not aware."

The tone of Ianto's voice made it plain that he was very aware. The little giggle that escaped Tosh confirmed it.

"Here's the situation," Owen said. "The doctor in charge is a bastard named House. I spoke to one of House's staff, and he said House hates leaving things unsolved. Any other doctor we could just take the cloaking device out of the guy and get out of here and they'd just assume he got better. This House guy is going to need something to actually treat."

"Any ideas?" Jack asked. He could hear the sound of Tosh's fingers on her keyboard.

Owen glanced up at the ceiling, reading the list he had formed in his head. "I'm thinking something that would affect his thyroid. It should have come up on one of the tests they conducted, but I don't remember seeing a radioactive iodine uptake test listed. Just the bog standard 'check for tumours and heart defects' things. The blood work seemed to be mostly focused on drugs and heavy metal poisoning."

"And since our little device isn't from Earth, it wouldn't be picked up by an MRI or a tox screen," Tosh added. "Graves' disease can be triggered by stress. Since Nathan was a student in a foreign country, that could be a cause of stress. It doesn't cause hallucinations, but the irregular heartbeat and insufficient oxygen to his brain might explain them away."

"Great. So how do we give him Graves' disease?" Jack folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes.

"Wait a minute"! Gwen spoke up. "We can't just give the boy a disease!"

Tosh responded. "We're not going to give him Graves' disease. We're just going to make the doctors there think he has it."

"But that's worse! The treatment! Rhys' aunt had a hyperactive thyroid and she had to go through radiation to fix it."

"The treatment would probably just be something like methimazole, Gwen." Owen sounded exasperated. He was tired and from the look of things, Jack was planning on hogging the bed. "Keep him on it for a bit, re-evaluate him later, call him in remission. They'd retest him for the rest of his life, but he'd be fine. We just need to tweak his thyroid for about a year."

"Owen," Tosh said over the sound of her keyboard clicking away, "you have your full kit with you, yeah? Call me directly and we'll go through the process of putting something together that you should be able to slip him."

"You guys did great. Ianto, Gwen, go home. All three of you take tomorrow off." Jack terminated the call and slipped his headseat into his pocket. "See if you can mix a little of the amnesia drug into the thyroid booster." He stood and took his coat off the hook by the door. "I'm going to take a walk. Get a little air."

"Stay off the rooftop. Someone'll see you and call the cops. That's all we need."



8:00 PM
House's apartment, Princeton, New Jersey

House sat on the sofa, his feet on the coffee table, crossed at the ankles. His left hand twisted his cane, telegraphing his irritation.

Not that Wilson would have needed the cane to indicate how House was feeling. His voice was doing the job quite nicely and had been doing so since Wilson had arrived.

Wilson opened two beers and handed one to House. "So let me get this straight. You don't trust them because they came over from Wales to check on a student."

"Right. The head of the study came over? Doesn't he have other students to babysit? What's so special about this kid that they couldn't just phone it in like every other physician that's currently more than five miles away?"

"Maybe... he's the son of someone important?"

"Mom teaches third grade. Dad manages one of those multifunction hardware stores."

"Maybe they just do things differently in Wales. House, just because you wouldn't... walk across the street to see a patient, doesn't mean everyone is like that."

House took a long pull on his beer. "Doctor Owen Harper is like that. I looked him up. He was given the opportunity to resign from his position with a hospital because of inappropriate behaviour with a patient." House raised an eyebrow and smirked. Wilson narrowed his eyes and opted not to say anything at all on that topic.

"And? He resigned and started working for the school."

"He's not on their website. Neither of them are."

"Maybe they're new. I don't know! House, you are reading way too much into this. The kid was a history student, right? He says he came home because he was afraid of some girl's husband. Maybe... she gave him something to bring back."

"Like the disease that's killing him."

"You're such a romantic. I mean like an antique or a historical artifact. Maybe she had him smuggle something into the US and they're here to get it back. Maybe Jack is like... special forces or something."

House snorted. "And in your fantasies, does Action Man rescue you and carry you off to his fortress of solitude for a little superhero lovin'?"

"You're an ass, House."

House stood up and limped toward the door. "You can sit here with your dreams of Indiana Jones if you want, but I'm going to take a walk. Get some sane air.

Owen woke to the sound of Jack in the tiny bathroom. He sat up, looked around the room, and rubbed his eyes. "Must've slept like a rock," he said to himself.

Jack's head appeared around the door frame, hair wet and sticking to his scalp and a toothbrush protruding from his mouth. "Say something?"

"I didn't hear you come in. Did you even sleep?" The empty side of the bed looked untouched; the wrinkles in the bedsheets were probably from Owen winding up in the blankets.

Jack disappeared into the bathroom again, "Yep. I didn't need blankets."

Owen pushed in behind him and made his way to the toilet. Jack glanced down and grinned. Owen glared.

"Shake it more than twice and you're playing with it," Jack said as he checked to see if he had toothpaste left on his face and if he'd missed any spots while shaving. Owen stepped to the sink and nudged Jack out of the way.

"Fine! I can take a hint!" Jack draped his towel over Owen's head and stepped back into the room to finish dressing.

They talked while Owen showered, Jack leaning against the sink, Owen shouting over the rush of the water. "Tosh and I whipped up something that will jigger his thyroid. The tricky part is going to be getting it into him, and getting the chip out.

"I don't think there will be too much trouble with that. I'll just ask if I can have a few moments alone with Nathan. Business about his status at the university or something. Hey, did you get the amnesia drug into Nathan's cocktail?"

"Sorry, boss." Owen stepped out of the shower and ignored Jack's obvious stare. "The cocktail's got to go into a vein. We don't know what happens if you inject the amnesia drug into someone. Not too many people have wanted to volunteer for that one."

"Talk to Ianto when we get back. See if he can get us some test subjects." He followed Owen back into the room and sat down on the foot of the bed. "Nathan was still on IV medication. Can we introduce it to the mix?"

"I think so. If it's just saline, prep the needle, tap out the air, slide it into the shunt, and push it in. Piece of piss. Then just retcon him the way we do everyone. If it's not saline, find a vein and... shoop. You take care of that, and I'll distract the doctor."

A strange look flickered across Jack's features. It was there and then gone in a split second, but not before Owen noticed it. Jack's body language made it clear that whatever it was, it was no business of Owen's. Owen made a mental note to snoop later.



Owen stood just outside Diagnostics. The three younger doctors were seated around the conference table. House was nowhere to be seen. He cleared his throat and Cameron looked up from her paperwork.

She rose and took a step toward the door. "Doctor Harper, I'm sorry. House isn't here."

"Oh, do you suppose he's with Nathan?"

The three laughed. "House? With a patient?" Cameron raised an eyebrow. "He's just late. Can I get you anything while you wait? Coffee maybe?"

"Yeah, actually. Thanks." He crossed the threshold and stood at the end of the table. The blond one, Chase or something like that, looked up at him, then he stood and offered his hand.

"Doctor Harper, I'm Doctor Chase." Owen shook his hand. Firm, strong grip. His hands were dry, smooth, and warm without being uncomfortable. He allowed himself to wonder about this man's "bedside manner" until Cameron smiled prettily and held out a mug of coffee.

Christ. I'd never get a moment's work done around here, he thought and sipped the coffee.

"We were just discussing the patient. We're running out of ideas and his system's getting weaker." Chase indicated the seat next to him. "Please, any input you have to offer would be appreciated."

Owen sat down and pretended to read the file. He hemmed and hawed and asked vague questions about things with obvious answers. He questioned the duplication of some of the tests ("House says everybody lies," Foreman explained. "He's also convinced that lab results lie.").

Owen stole a look at the clock on the microwave. He hoped Jack would show up soon because there was no way House was going to be much later.

As if on cue, Jack strode down the hallway from one direction just as House was stepping off the elevator. The two men stopped and stared at each other. Chase whistled the theme from "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly," earning a laugh from Foreman and a stern look from Cameron. Owen smirked and watched as Jack stepped forward. House moved forward, and soon the two men were standing face-to-face. House scowled. Jack grinned.

Owen leaned over and whispered "Test his thyroid" in Chase's ear.

Chase turned and stared wide-eyed at Owen. "That's it! That's what we've been missing. It fits!"

"Not the hallucinations." Foreman offered.

"He's been feverish and his systems are failing. I think that'd make a person hallucinate," Cameron countered. "House! We think we've got it."

"Graves' disease?"

The trio looked crestfallen.

"Stop standing there looking like a bunch of kicked puppies. There are tests to be run!" He limped into the room and waved his cane dismissively. They filed out and headed for the patient's room.

"As for you two," House said. "Get the hell out of my country."



House was deeply engrossed in the movie. Wilson, however, was busy turning over facts and trying to figure out why it felt like something was wrong.

"House."

"Jimmy."

"You tested his thyroid function."

"Mhm."

"But the results weren't anywhere in his file."

"They got lost."

"House, when you went out for a walk last night..." Wilson shook his head. Things were really not making sense. "What happened?"

House smiled. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Wilson was quiet for several minutes. He watched Elvis gyrate in some film that was exactly like every other Elvis film he'd ever seen. "No, I think it's better if I don't know anything at all."

"I'll tell you one day. When you're older."



November, 2008
Cardiff, Wales

Jack dropped the tiny sliver of alien metal into a plastic bag and pressed the seal. He put the small bag into a large, brown envelope, signed and dated it, and handed the envelope to Ianto. Ianto signed it and pressed the wax seal in place.

Silently, Ianto left to file the envelope. Case closed.