fic repost: The Day After Never 1/1 TW/DW xover
Title: The Day After Never
Author: A Lanart
Genre: Torchwood/Dr Who crossover
Pairing: Jack, Dorothée Gale McShane
Rating: PG
Warnings and spoilers: Takes place after the end of Last of the Time Lords
Summary: Jack is back in Cardiff but he's not alone
Disclaimer: Not mine: Belong to aunty beeb and RTD
No copyright infringement intended, no profit made.
title from the song of the same name by Pro-Jekt
A/N: It's almost a year since I first posted this. Back then, Jack hadn't returned to Torchwood following the end of Doctor Who s3 and the original fic reflected that. This is the same story, but re-edited and with a few extra words written to make it fit into S2 Torchwood canon. I felt the original idea was too good to remain in just a a pure AU so I wanted it to sit more closely with what we see on the TV. I think I've managed that.
The Day After Never
Jack didn’t look back as he left the Doctor and Martha behind, all his concentration was on getting back to the Hub and his team. He’d been telling the truth for a change when he told the Doctor he’d missed them. What he hadn’t said, though he was sure the Doctor knew, was that he found it difficult to look at the Doctor’s present face and not miss the one he used to wear. Intellectually Jack knew the Doctor would always be the Doctor, and he still harboured strong feelings for him, but underneath it all he’d realised that this incarnation was no longer *his* Doctor. It had taken a year and more deaths than he wanted to count before he’d finally accepted that fact but at least it had given him something to think about instead of when his next death or next meal would arrive. He might not have had all his questions answered by the Doctor, those two lost years still nagged at him for starters, but he was ready to step back into his Torchwood shoes and he hoped that his team would forgive him for disappearing on them.
Jack headed for tourist office; even if it was locked he still had a key and he could check the status of the Hub from Ianto’s computer. He ignored the flicker of hope that he would find Ianto in there too, alone. The Tourist office was empty, and the Hub appeared likewise, though it wasn’t in lockdown. For the first time Jack wondered if his team were actually there or whether they were still stuck in Nepal somewhere; the Master had mentioned sending them to the Himalayas, and Jack had no idea if they’d returned or how that little expedition had been affected by the year that wasn’t. There was only one way to find out so he reached over the desk and pressed the door release.
Jack loosened his gun in its holster as the cog door spun back, just in case. He was greeted by what sounded like a pleased shriek from Myfanwy but the rest of the Hub remained silent. The lights were turned down low, but weren’t switched off completely and the computers were humming away to themselves, still performing their job of monitoring the rift. He took a breath; the Hub smelled the same as it always had, of water and metal and coffee. He relaxed, and made his way to his office. The team might not be around but he was sure there would be a mountain of paperwork to wade through, not to mention furious e-mails from UNIT amongst others demanding to know just what the hell was going on. He was thinking just how to answer them as he opened the door to his office, not concentrating on his surroundings which was why the dark-haired woman crouched beside his desk was able to take him completely by surprise and flatten him with a well aimed kick to his chest.
Jack lay gasping on the floor, too winded to speak or move. Once he’d recovered sufficiently to actually be able to breathe properly he still remained motionless. Making sudden movements while you were staring down the barrel of a gun was not a good idea. He kept his hands in clear view and drew breath to speak.
“Who the hell are you?” Jack found himself at a decided disadvantage lying on the floor in his office, with a mad woman, plus gun, standing over him. The gun was trained unerringly on his head, and the sights didn’t move as she lowered it to her hip. To Jack, it looked like she was uncannily used to shooting from the hip. “And what are you doing in *my* office?”
“Your office, you say? Then you must be Captain Jack Harkness.” She holstered the gun, clicking the safety back on in one smooth movement. Jack had already come to the conclusion that this was not a woman to be messed around with; her ease with the weapon just confirmed that. He also realised she was vaguely familiar but he couldn’t place the face, or the flashing brown eyes. Still pondering the anomaly of not being able to remember a beautiful woman he absent mindedly took the hand she proffered to aid him back to his feet.
“Yeah, I’m Jack Harkness.”
“It’s good to meet you at last, Jack Harkness. I’m Dorothée Gale McShane of Torchwood 4.”
“Torchwood 4?” Jack blinked owlishly as he somewhat dazedly processed the information, anxiously trying to remember what date it was. “But they’re not...” He bit off the rest of what he had been going to say, but finished the thought in his head ‘...due back yet’ though he realised as the thought took shape, that they were probably bang on schedule. Somehow, Dorothée Gale McShane hadn’t made it into the Torchwood 4 archives, and so he hadn’t heard of her; though perhaps that was due to their degradation over time rather than anything else. She blithely carried on with her explanation, either not noticing the unexpected termination of Jack’s comment, or, which he felt was more likely, choosing to ignore it for the present.
“Torchwood 4’s been missing, I know. There was an accident with a perception filter, a giant slug and some explosives that knocked them out of phase with this reality and de-anchored them in space and time. That meant they weren’t able to contact you. Luckily, I stumbled on your associates some time ago and was able to help. They offered me a job, and here I am. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I have to apologise that I can’t say the same for you Dorothée Gale McShane.” Jack gave her a winning smile, and she dimpled in reply. It took the harsh edge off her features and made her look years younger; his eyes narrowed as the resemblance tugged more strongly at his memory, but he still couldn’t place her.
“You don’t have to call me that all the time, you know.”
“Then what should I call you?” Jack asked, meeting her eyes and finding in them something akin to what met his in the mirror.
“Here and now?” She grinned, letting go of his hand and making for the door of his office. He watched her denim and leather-clad figure with appreciation, and was still watching when she turned back round to face him. “I suppose you could call me Ace.” She strode out into the empty Hub, leaving Jack gaping like a stranded fish in her wake. Now he remembered her face, or more accurately the TARDIS’ memory of her; Ace, the streetwise kid turned Dalek hunter who kept on appearing in the Doctor’s life. The one who’d left wounds that Rose had begun to heal, but who had never been forgotten, not by the TARDIS, and not by the Doctor either. It kind of seemed inevitable that she would end up at Torchwood and Jack had a feeling that they might discover they had a hell of a lot in common, *if* he could get her to talk without waving a gun in his face, though he supposed he could always swap it for a banana if he was desperate even if it was a safe bet that she’d probably like that as much as he had. The next few minutes would be crucial; they could either be the start of a beautiful friendship, or the first step on a path to discovering another way to die. Jack found himself relishing the challenge to determine which one it would be as he followed Ace into the Hub.
Ace had ensconced herself on the couch, and was scratching Myfanwy’s head when Jack eventually stepped out of his office. The winged dinosaur waddled toward him with an imperious croak.
“I think she wants you to say hello.” Ace said. She’d placed her gun on the table and put her feet up; she looked perfectly at home. Another croak brought Jack’s attention back to Myfanwy and he crouched down to pat her on the head and scratch her wing joints.
“Did you miss me, girl?” He whispered. Myfanwy playfully head-butted his arm and nearly knocked him over; she then hopped up onto one of the desks before flying back to her nest. Jack straightened and wandered over to the couch. He didn’t sit down immediately, but stood, arms folded, taking stock of the woman who had invaded his home. She met his gaze, unblinking. There was no apology there, but he couldn’t see any trace of deception either and he felt himself relax. She smiled and patted the seat next to her in invitation. He let his eyes follow the gesture, but didn’t move. “You aren’t hiding any nitro-9 are you?” She let out a bark of laughter, though her eyes did reveal a flicker of pain behind the amusement.
“Not here, it’s perfectly safe. And I’ve moved on from that anyway.” She patted the seat again. “I won’t bite.”
“Pity,” said Jack under his breath as he moved closer to take the indicated seat.
“I heard that.” She chuckled again. “And to think I didn’t believe them when they told me.”
“Who’s been spreading vicious rumours about me?” Jack tried to look hurt, but he was sure the smile he couldn’t keep off his face spoiled the effect. She didn’t appear to be having much luck in that department either, but that didn’t bother him as he liked her smile.
“Pretty much everyone I’ve met who knows you.” She replied. The smile became a grin. “And they weren’t vicious, anything but.”
“I’m glad about that.”
“I bet you are. So, Captain Jack Harkness, what do you want to know?” She leaned back against the cushions, to all intents and purposes completely at ease. Jack wasn’t fooled for a minute, but he let his posture mirror hers.
“Where are my team?” The smile disappeared, and her face closed down, accentuating the harshness once more.
“Alive,” she answered tersely. “And more importantly, they’re in one piece, if a little battered. It’s a long way back from the Himalayas when you have to rely on conventional transport, especially when you’ve got an unstable rift waiting for you back home.” Jack closed his eyes with a sigh of relief. He’d tried his hardest to stay hopeful, but after having seen so many others hunted and killed he hadn’t been completely sure they’d survived, even when time rewound.
“Thank God.”
“I’m not sure God had a hell of a lot to do with it, unless he’s taken to living in a Police Box.” The mood lightened somewhat and Jack was surprised at the chuckle that escaped, even if it did sound a bit strained to his ears.
“Just how much do you know of what’s been going on?” He asked. “When did you arrive here?” She turned to look at him with a sympathetic smile.
“That’s a long story, and one that needs a drink to go with it. I promised Ianto before they left for the Himalayas that I wouldn’t blow up the coffee machine while they were away so he gave me permission to use it, and he hasn’t revoked that permission since they got back so...” she shrugged expressively. Jack sighed, but couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face; it might not be Ianto’s magic brew, but if Ace had been given permission to use the treasured coffee machine it wouldn’t be bad.
“Coffee would be wonderful.”
“Coffee it is, then.” She scrambled off the couch and made her way up to the coffee machine, though Jack noticed she hadn’t left her gun behind. He doubted she ever did, which was probably why she was still alive; after all, she didn’t have the advantage he did. Ace arrived back with the coffee in what seemed like no time at all, and handed him one of the steaming mugs.
“Thanks.” He inhaled appreciatively; the smell of freshly brewed coffee always lifted his mood.
“There’d be biscuits too, but I... ummm... shared them with Myfanwy. And before you say anything, yes, I used the sauce so she isn’t going to be after your custard creams any time soon.” Jack grinned at the expression on her face.
“I prefer chocolate digestives anyway.” He said. Ace sat herself back down, mug in hand, the gun once more on the table in front of her.
“Doesn’t everyone?” She commented, before taking a sip of her own drink. “Now, where were we?” She paused to gather her thoughts for a moment; there where so many places she could start the story, and all of them would be a true beginning from one point of view or another. She decided the middle was as good a place as any to begin. “You’re aware that the archangel network created a psychic field?”
“I am now, I wasn’t initially.”
“It seems that there were very few people who could avoid its influence. I was one of them. Your team were all affected to a greater or lesser extent, but they were good enough to realise that, even though they couldn’t do a hell of a lot about it. They were caught up in a rather unenviable situation when Torchwood 4 finally managed to contact them. The first thing they did was ask for our help.”
“Which you provided?”
“I’m the only one who could,” she said as she took a mouthful of coffee. Jack realised that Ace wasn’t bragging, she was just being the practical and down to earth person that the memories from the TARDIS said she always had been. See a problem; do something about it. It seemed she’d done the same thing for his team. Jack listened as she continued. “We’d stabilised in time but we were still out of phase on the physical at that point; the others couldn’t have made it through the rift without killing themselves.”
“You came through the rift? I’m not sure whether to admire your courage or lock you up as a danger to all humanity.” Jack had too many unpleasant memories of what the rift could to a present-day human body and he wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of someone prepared to be that reckless having the run of the hub. He realised his expression must have given his thoughts away when she chuckled softly.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I only used the rift as a navigational aid; like sat-nav with a difference. You see, I don’t have to rely on conventional transport and that makes the rift pretty useful; the anchor in Cardiff is a permanent one and no matter where else it touches, you can always get back here if you know how and have the means to do so. I have the means, and the Torchwood 4 team provided me with the knowledge so I didn’t turn up in the wrong year. Once they managed to establish communication with your team here, we were away. It’s been a long time in nowhere for Torchwood 4.” She paused to take another sip of her coffee. “Anyway, your team knew to expect me so they didn’t try to shoot me on sight, and they managed to tell me what they suspected. It wasn’t always pleasant, but we got there in the end. That was when we realised that I was completely unaffected by the psychic field, and we gambled on the chance that I would remain that way. I stayed when they were compelled to go, and watching the rift became my job. In a sense, I was Torchwood 3 when they weren’t here, and it was one of the hardest years of my life.” She met his eyes and he saw all his horror and despair that he’d lived through reflected there. He instinctively reached out a hand to touch her, but let it fall short. This woman was not one of his team, and he had no idea how such a gesture would be received. Whatever she had been when she travelled with the Doctor, she was not that person any longer; though he was fairly certain the younger Ace still lived somewhere inside her. He let his hand lie where it had fallen between them and tore his gaze away from her.
“He said that no-one would remember, except in dreams.”
“I doubt anyone else does. Remember, I travelled with him before the Time War, when the way to other universes was still open. I’ve fought the daleks and I’ve walked on Gallifrey, but most importantly I’ve met the Master and I recognise how his touch turns everything to ashes. I protected this place as well as I was able, and I helped where I could, but my main priority was keeping myself free. Unseen, unknown, I stood a chance in undermining him; if he’d managed to get his hands on me, there would be nothing. Torchwood 4 were very glad of their place in nowhere, and it became my refuge from a world gone mad, one that I offered to as many people as I could. Most of them refused. I became involved with the resistance and discovered that I could do the most good by becoming a distraction, so that’s what I did. When Martha was in Japan, I was in America, when she was in Australia, I was in Norway; I divided his focus and helped give her a chance to do what she had to.” Ace paused for breath, and ran a hand over her face before letting it fall back into her lap. Remembering that year wasn’t good, but it could have been so much worse. At least she’d had somewhere to hide.
“Martha didn’t mention you.” Jack said carefully, not wanting to offend.
“She didn’t know I existed, it was safer that way for us both. And all the time she was walking the world, no-one suspected the Doctor had an Ace up his sleeve, not even him.” She sighed. “We aren’t the same people we were; too many deaths, too many changes. He’s not *my* Doctor anymore.” There was a hitch in her voice that she did not manage to hide from him in time. Jack reached out toward her once more, his fingers tightening on hers where they lay on her knee.
“Now that is something I can relate to.” He murmured. She looked at their twined fingers and squeezed his back, before giving him a quick smile.
“I don’t think he realises he has that effect on people; part of his charm I suppose. Never mind, I’ve managed well enough without him, and even helped save my own world.” She finished her coffee before continuing. “Once Martha had been taken aboard the Valiant, I made sure everything was stable here and headed back to Torchwood 4. We couldn’t do anything from there, but we could watch, and wait and remember. As soon as I could, I came back here to wait.” She let go of his hand to scrub at her eyes. Jack watched her, weighing up what to ask next.
“What about Torchwood 4?”
“You tell me.” She paused mid-rub and peered at him from between her fingers “They aren’t where they used to be, that’s for certain.”
“And?” She let her hands fall again, and stared at him. There was no sign of the earlier despair he had seen, but equally there was no hostility, and she couldn’t completely hide the twinkle that lurked in the depths of her eyes.
“I think you know already. You nearly slipped up there, Jack Harkness; just what was it you were so careful not to say? What are you hiding?” He met her eyes stare for stare, until they blinked simultaneously and turned away from each other once more.
“Why do you think I’m hiding anything?”
“You’re Torchwood.”
“So are you.”
“Not in the same way. You *are* Torchwood; its living, breathing personification, no matter what the charter states. You aren’t from around here.”
“I’m as human as you are.” Jack looked vaguely insulted.
“I didn’t say you weren’t, but that makes no difference; so I’ll ask you again. What are you hiding?” In the face of her implacable determination, and partly due to the fact that he felt she was something of a kindred spirit, Jack caved in.
“You know I’m a time traveller.” She nodded an acknowledgement, so he continued. “What you probably didn’t realise was that I’m from your future. By the time I’m born, you will have been dead for years. I knew that Torchwood 4 was due to appear back in the world round about now as it has already happened for me, I just didn’t know how; the archives were very sketchy on that.” He didn’t miss the quick flash of a smile on her face. “What?”
“That might be because I told them not to mention me. I’m limited to how far I can travel, but travel I still do and I try to avoid creating a paradox whenever possible.”
“Sensible woman.” Jack found himself admiring her practicality, amongst other things. “Torchwood 4 is probably settling into its new home in the tunnels below Liverpool round about now. At least there wasn’t an earthquake to mark the occasion.”
“Unlike 2002, when it vanished; and to think no-one in Dudley knew they were there.”
“You have done your homework.” Jack was impressed despite himself; there wasn’t much evidence to connect the two. She shrugged.
“More like they were desperate to tell someone, and the rest was easy to suss out.”
“You could be right there. Still, Liverpool should suit them; it’s a port city and not everyone passing through it is human.”
“Sounds interesting. Good job I decided to stay on with Torchwood.”
“You did? That’s great.” He grinned and saluted her with the now empty coffee cup; she grabbed her own cup and returned the salute with almost as big a grin as his. “Not that it’s really any business of mine, Ace, but why have you decided to stay when you can still travel?”
“I think you know.” She put down her cup before raising her eyes to his once more.
“I do?” Jack very carefully did not answer the challenge in her glance, but held her eyes for a second until she nodded imperceptibly and sighed.
“The 21st century is when it all changes, Jack. We’ve got to be ready.” He stared at her bent head for a moment, wondering where and when and who from she’d heard those words, before realising it didn’t matter. She was Torchwood, and she was right. And they weren’t ever going to be ready if he didn’t get back into his team’s good graces, and soon.
“In that case, Miss McShane, I’ll be very pleased for Torchwood 3 to maintain a close working relationship with Torchwood 4. Maybe we could start now with you telling me what that team of mine are up to.”
“Chasing a blowfish in a sports car by all accounts.”
“Oh not again. Maybe I’ll just catch up with them out there.” Jack rose, and flipped open his wrist strap in order to track the SUV; he locked on with no problem and fastened the strap with a smile. Time to get back to his *proper* job. He’d set off for the lift slab when Ace’s voice halted him.
“Er, Jack?” He turned to cast an enquiring glance in her direction. “I’m presuming you’d like to create a good impression for your team seeing as it’s been some months since they saw you.”
“Sure I do, but...”
“You might want to change your shirt first in that case.” Jack looked down at his shirt to discover that it was in no way fit attire for a presumed conquering hero to be wearing whilst returning to the fold. The print of Ace’s boot sole was highlighted by what only could be pteranodon drool and spilt coffee. “If I let you out like that, Ianto would never forgive me.”
“And I can’t have that happening,” Jack said with a grin as he disappeared toward his quarters to get changed. When he emerged, Ace was shrugging into her jacket.
“I’d best be getting to Liverpool then, and see how *my* team are settling down,” she said, voice muffled by the leather. “I’ll drop you off on the way. You can let me know how things work out with the others tomorrow.”
As Jack watched Ace roar off on her bike down the damp and darkened Cardiff streets, he wondered how the team would take his unannounced return and if indeed it would work out. There was only one way to find out; he strode past the abandoned sports car and toward the open door of the house. He was back, and more importantly he was almost home.
Author: A Lanart
Genre: Torchwood/Dr Who crossover
Pairing: Jack, Dorothée Gale McShane
Rating: PG
Warnings and spoilers: Takes place after the end of Last of the Time Lords
Summary: Jack is back in Cardiff but he's not alone
Disclaimer: Not mine: Belong to aunty beeb and RTD
No copyright infringement intended, no profit made.
title from the song of the same name by Pro-Jekt
A/N: It's almost a year since I first posted this. Back then, Jack hadn't returned to Torchwood following the end of Doctor Who s3 and the original fic reflected that. This is the same story, but re-edited and with a few extra words written to make it fit into S2 Torchwood canon. I felt the original idea was too good to remain in just a a pure AU so I wanted it to sit more closely with what we see on the TV. I think I've managed that.
The Day After Never
Jack didn’t look back as he left the Doctor and Martha behind, all his concentration was on getting back to the Hub and his team. He’d been telling the truth for a change when he told the Doctor he’d missed them. What he hadn’t said, though he was sure the Doctor knew, was that he found it difficult to look at the Doctor’s present face and not miss the one he used to wear. Intellectually Jack knew the Doctor would always be the Doctor, and he still harboured strong feelings for him, but underneath it all he’d realised that this incarnation was no longer *his* Doctor. It had taken a year and more deaths than he wanted to count before he’d finally accepted that fact but at least it had given him something to think about instead of when his next death or next meal would arrive. He might not have had all his questions answered by the Doctor, those two lost years still nagged at him for starters, but he was ready to step back into his Torchwood shoes and he hoped that his team would forgive him for disappearing on them.
Jack headed for tourist office; even if it was locked he still had a key and he could check the status of the Hub from Ianto’s computer. He ignored the flicker of hope that he would find Ianto in there too, alone. The Tourist office was empty, and the Hub appeared likewise, though it wasn’t in lockdown. For the first time Jack wondered if his team were actually there or whether they were still stuck in Nepal somewhere; the Master had mentioned sending them to the Himalayas, and Jack had no idea if they’d returned or how that little expedition had been affected by the year that wasn’t. There was only one way to find out so he reached over the desk and pressed the door release.
Jack loosened his gun in its holster as the cog door spun back, just in case. He was greeted by what sounded like a pleased shriek from Myfanwy but the rest of the Hub remained silent. The lights were turned down low, but weren’t switched off completely and the computers were humming away to themselves, still performing their job of monitoring the rift. He took a breath; the Hub smelled the same as it always had, of water and metal and coffee. He relaxed, and made his way to his office. The team might not be around but he was sure there would be a mountain of paperwork to wade through, not to mention furious e-mails from UNIT amongst others demanding to know just what the hell was going on. He was thinking just how to answer them as he opened the door to his office, not concentrating on his surroundings which was why the dark-haired woman crouched beside his desk was able to take him completely by surprise and flatten him with a well aimed kick to his chest.
Jack lay gasping on the floor, too winded to speak or move. Once he’d recovered sufficiently to actually be able to breathe properly he still remained motionless. Making sudden movements while you were staring down the barrel of a gun was not a good idea. He kept his hands in clear view and drew breath to speak.
“Who the hell are you?” Jack found himself at a decided disadvantage lying on the floor in his office, with a mad woman, plus gun, standing over him. The gun was trained unerringly on his head, and the sights didn’t move as she lowered it to her hip. To Jack, it looked like she was uncannily used to shooting from the hip. “And what are you doing in *my* office?”
“Your office, you say? Then you must be Captain Jack Harkness.” She holstered the gun, clicking the safety back on in one smooth movement. Jack had already come to the conclusion that this was not a woman to be messed around with; her ease with the weapon just confirmed that. He also realised she was vaguely familiar but he couldn’t place the face, or the flashing brown eyes. Still pondering the anomaly of not being able to remember a beautiful woman he absent mindedly took the hand she proffered to aid him back to his feet.
“Yeah, I’m Jack Harkness.”
“It’s good to meet you at last, Jack Harkness. I’m Dorothée Gale McShane of Torchwood 4.”
“Torchwood 4?” Jack blinked owlishly as he somewhat dazedly processed the information, anxiously trying to remember what date it was. “But they’re not...” He bit off the rest of what he had been going to say, but finished the thought in his head ‘...due back yet’ though he realised as the thought took shape, that they were probably bang on schedule. Somehow, Dorothée Gale McShane hadn’t made it into the Torchwood 4 archives, and so he hadn’t heard of her; though perhaps that was due to their degradation over time rather than anything else. She blithely carried on with her explanation, either not noticing the unexpected termination of Jack’s comment, or, which he felt was more likely, choosing to ignore it for the present.
“Torchwood 4’s been missing, I know. There was an accident with a perception filter, a giant slug and some explosives that knocked them out of phase with this reality and de-anchored them in space and time. That meant they weren’t able to contact you. Luckily, I stumbled on your associates some time ago and was able to help. They offered me a job, and here I am. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I have to apologise that I can’t say the same for you Dorothée Gale McShane.” Jack gave her a winning smile, and she dimpled in reply. It took the harsh edge off her features and made her look years younger; his eyes narrowed as the resemblance tugged more strongly at his memory, but he still couldn’t place her.
“You don’t have to call me that all the time, you know.”
“Then what should I call you?” Jack asked, meeting her eyes and finding in them something akin to what met his in the mirror.
“Here and now?” She grinned, letting go of his hand and making for the door of his office. He watched her denim and leather-clad figure with appreciation, and was still watching when she turned back round to face him. “I suppose you could call me Ace.” She strode out into the empty Hub, leaving Jack gaping like a stranded fish in her wake. Now he remembered her face, or more accurately the TARDIS’ memory of her; Ace, the streetwise kid turned Dalek hunter who kept on appearing in the Doctor’s life. The one who’d left wounds that Rose had begun to heal, but who had never been forgotten, not by the TARDIS, and not by the Doctor either. It kind of seemed inevitable that she would end up at Torchwood and Jack had a feeling that they might discover they had a hell of a lot in common, *if* he could get her to talk without waving a gun in his face, though he supposed he could always swap it for a banana if he was desperate even if it was a safe bet that she’d probably like that as much as he had. The next few minutes would be crucial; they could either be the start of a beautiful friendship, or the first step on a path to discovering another way to die. Jack found himself relishing the challenge to determine which one it would be as he followed Ace into the Hub.
Ace had ensconced herself on the couch, and was scratching Myfanwy’s head when Jack eventually stepped out of his office. The winged dinosaur waddled toward him with an imperious croak.
“I think she wants you to say hello.” Ace said. She’d placed her gun on the table and put her feet up; she looked perfectly at home. Another croak brought Jack’s attention back to Myfanwy and he crouched down to pat her on the head and scratch her wing joints.
“Did you miss me, girl?” He whispered. Myfanwy playfully head-butted his arm and nearly knocked him over; she then hopped up onto one of the desks before flying back to her nest. Jack straightened and wandered over to the couch. He didn’t sit down immediately, but stood, arms folded, taking stock of the woman who had invaded his home. She met his gaze, unblinking. There was no apology there, but he couldn’t see any trace of deception either and he felt himself relax. She smiled and patted the seat next to her in invitation. He let his eyes follow the gesture, but didn’t move. “You aren’t hiding any nitro-9 are you?” She let out a bark of laughter, though her eyes did reveal a flicker of pain behind the amusement.
“Not here, it’s perfectly safe. And I’ve moved on from that anyway.” She patted the seat again. “I won’t bite.”
“Pity,” said Jack under his breath as he moved closer to take the indicated seat.
“I heard that.” She chuckled again. “And to think I didn’t believe them when they told me.”
“Who’s been spreading vicious rumours about me?” Jack tried to look hurt, but he was sure the smile he couldn’t keep off his face spoiled the effect. She didn’t appear to be having much luck in that department either, but that didn’t bother him as he liked her smile.
“Pretty much everyone I’ve met who knows you.” She replied. The smile became a grin. “And they weren’t vicious, anything but.”
“I’m glad about that.”
“I bet you are. So, Captain Jack Harkness, what do you want to know?” She leaned back against the cushions, to all intents and purposes completely at ease. Jack wasn’t fooled for a minute, but he let his posture mirror hers.
“Where are my team?” The smile disappeared, and her face closed down, accentuating the harshness once more.
“Alive,” she answered tersely. “And more importantly, they’re in one piece, if a little battered. It’s a long way back from the Himalayas when you have to rely on conventional transport, especially when you’ve got an unstable rift waiting for you back home.” Jack closed his eyes with a sigh of relief. He’d tried his hardest to stay hopeful, but after having seen so many others hunted and killed he hadn’t been completely sure they’d survived, even when time rewound.
“Thank God.”
“I’m not sure God had a hell of a lot to do with it, unless he’s taken to living in a Police Box.” The mood lightened somewhat and Jack was surprised at the chuckle that escaped, even if it did sound a bit strained to his ears.
“Just how much do you know of what’s been going on?” He asked. “When did you arrive here?” She turned to look at him with a sympathetic smile.
“That’s a long story, and one that needs a drink to go with it. I promised Ianto before they left for the Himalayas that I wouldn’t blow up the coffee machine while they were away so he gave me permission to use it, and he hasn’t revoked that permission since they got back so...” she shrugged expressively. Jack sighed, but couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face; it might not be Ianto’s magic brew, but if Ace had been given permission to use the treasured coffee machine it wouldn’t be bad.
“Coffee would be wonderful.”
“Coffee it is, then.” She scrambled off the couch and made her way up to the coffee machine, though Jack noticed she hadn’t left her gun behind. He doubted she ever did, which was probably why she was still alive; after all, she didn’t have the advantage he did. Ace arrived back with the coffee in what seemed like no time at all, and handed him one of the steaming mugs.
“Thanks.” He inhaled appreciatively; the smell of freshly brewed coffee always lifted his mood.
“There’d be biscuits too, but I... ummm... shared them with Myfanwy. And before you say anything, yes, I used the sauce so she isn’t going to be after your custard creams any time soon.” Jack grinned at the expression on her face.
“I prefer chocolate digestives anyway.” He said. Ace sat herself back down, mug in hand, the gun once more on the table in front of her.
“Doesn’t everyone?” She commented, before taking a sip of her own drink. “Now, where were we?” She paused to gather her thoughts for a moment; there where so many places she could start the story, and all of them would be a true beginning from one point of view or another. She decided the middle was as good a place as any to begin. “You’re aware that the archangel network created a psychic field?”
“I am now, I wasn’t initially.”
“It seems that there were very few people who could avoid its influence. I was one of them. Your team were all affected to a greater or lesser extent, but they were good enough to realise that, even though they couldn’t do a hell of a lot about it. They were caught up in a rather unenviable situation when Torchwood 4 finally managed to contact them. The first thing they did was ask for our help.”
“Which you provided?”
“I’m the only one who could,” she said as she took a mouthful of coffee. Jack realised that Ace wasn’t bragging, she was just being the practical and down to earth person that the memories from the TARDIS said she always had been. See a problem; do something about it. It seemed she’d done the same thing for his team. Jack listened as she continued. “We’d stabilised in time but we were still out of phase on the physical at that point; the others couldn’t have made it through the rift without killing themselves.”
“You came through the rift? I’m not sure whether to admire your courage or lock you up as a danger to all humanity.” Jack had too many unpleasant memories of what the rift could to a present-day human body and he wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of someone prepared to be that reckless having the run of the hub. He realised his expression must have given his thoughts away when she chuckled softly.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I only used the rift as a navigational aid; like sat-nav with a difference. You see, I don’t have to rely on conventional transport and that makes the rift pretty useful; the anchor in Cardiff is a permanent one and no matter where else it touches, you can always get back here if you know how and have the means to do so. I have the means, and the Torchwood 4 team provided me with the knowledge so I didn’t turn up in the wrong year. Once they managed to establish communication with your team here, we were away. It’s been a long time in nowhere for Torchwood 4.” She paused to take another sip of her coffee. “Anyway, your team knew to expect me so they didn’t try to shoot me on sight, and they managed to tell me what they suspected. It wasn’t always pleasant, but we got there in the end. That was when we realised that I was completely unaffected by the psychic field, and we gambled on the chance that I would remain that way. I stayed when they were compelled to go, and watching the rift became my job. In a sense, I was Torchwood 3 when they weren’t here, and it was one of the hardest years of my life.” She met his eyes and he saw all his horror and despair that he’d lived through reflected there. He instinctively reached out a hand to touch her, but let it fall short. This woman was not one of his team, and he had no idea how such a gesture would be received. Whatever she had been when she travelled with the Doctor, she was not that person any longer; though he was fairly certain the younger Ace still lived somewhere inside her. He let his hand lie where it had fallen between them and tore his gaze away from her.
“He said that no-one would remember, except in dreams.”
“I doubt anyone else does. Remember, I travelled with him before the Time War, when the way to other universes was still open. I’ve fought the daleks and I’ve walked on Gallifrey, but most importantly I’ve met the Master and I recognise how his touch turns everything to ashes. I protected this place as well as I was able, and I helped where I could, but my main priority was keeping myself free. Unseen, unknown, I stood a chance in undermining him; if he’d managed to get his hands on me, there would be nothing. Torchwood 4 were very glad of their place in nowhere, and it became my refuge from a world gone mad, one that I offered to as many people as I could. Most of them refused. I became involved with the resistance and discovered that I could do the most good by becoming a distraction, so that’s what I did. When Martha was in Japan, I was in America, when she was in Australia, I was in Norway; I divided his focus and helped give her a chance to do what she had to.” Ace paused for breath, and ran a hand over her face before letting it fall back into her lap. Remembering that year wasn’t good, but it could have been so much worse. At least she’d had somewhere to hide.
“Martha didn’t mention you.” Jack said carefully, not wanting to offend.
“She didn’t know I existed, it was safer that way for us both. And all the time she was walking the world, no-one suspected the Doctor had an Ace up his sleeve, not even him.” She sighed. “We aren’t the same people we were; too many deaths, too many changes. He’s not *my* Doctor anymore.” There was a hitch in her voice that she did not manage to hide from him in time. Jack reached out toward her once more, his fingers tightening on hers where they lay on her knee.
“Now that is something I can relate to.” He murmured. She looked at their twined fingers and squeezed his back, before giving him a quick smile.
“I don’t think he realises he has that effect on people; part of his charm I suppose. Never mind, I’ve managed well enough without him, and even helped save my own world.” She finished her coffee before continuing. “Once Martha had been taken aboard the Valiant, I made sure everything was stable here and headed back to Torchwood 4. We couldn’t do anything from there, but we could watch, and wait and remember. As soon as I could, I came back here to wait.” She let go of his hand to scrub at her eyes. Jack watched her, weighing up what to ask next.
“What about Torchwood 4?”
“You tell me.” She paused mid-rub and peered at him from between her fingers “They aren’t where they used to be, that’s for certain.”
“And?” She let her hands fall again, and stared at him. There was no sign of the earlier despair he had seen, but equally there was no hostility, and she couldn’t completely hide the twinkle that lurked in the depths of her eyes.
“I think you know already. You nearly slipped up there, Jack Harkness; just what was it you were so careful not to say? What are you hiding?” He met her eyes stare for stare, until they blinked simultaneously and turned away from each other once more.
“Why do you think I’m hiding anything?”
“You’re Torchwood.”
“So are you.”
“Not in the same way. You *are* Torchwood; its living, breathing personification, no matter what the charter states. You aren’t from around here.”
“I’m as human as you are.” Jack looked vaguely insulted.
“I didn’t say you weren’t, but that makes no difference; so I’ll ask you again. What are you hiding?” In the face of her implacable determination, and partly due to the fact that he felt she was something of a kindred spirit, Jack caved in.
“You know I’m a time traveller.” She nodded an acknowledgement, so he continued. “What you probably didn’t realise was that I’m from your future. By the time I’m born, you will have been dead for years. I knew that Torchwood 4 was due to appear back in the world round about now as it has already happened for me, I just didn’t know how; the archives were very sketchy on that.” He didn’t miss the quick flash of a smile on her face. “What?”
“That might be because I told them not to mention me. I’m limited to how far I can travel, but travel I still do and I try to avoid creating a paradox whenever possible.”
“Sensible woman.” Jack found himself admiring her practicality, amongst other things. “Torchwood 4 is probably settling into its new home in the tunnels below Liverpool round about now. At least there wasn’t an earthquake to mark the occasion.”
“Unlike 2002, when it vanished; and to think no-one in Dudley knew they were there.”
“You have done your homework.” Jack was impressed despite himself; there wasn’t much evidence to connect the two. She shrugged.
“More like they were desperate to tell someone, and the rest was easy to suss out.”
“You could be right there. Still, Liverpool should suit them; it’s a port city and not everyone passing through it is human.”
“Sounds interesting. Good job I decided to stay on with Torchwood.”
“You did? That’s great.” He grinned and saluted her with the now empty coffee cup; she grabbed her own cup and returned the salute with almost as big a grin as his. “Not that it’s really any business of mine, Ace, but why have you decided to stay when you can still travel?”
“I think you know.” She put down her cup before raising her eyes to his once more.
“I do?” Jack very carefully did not answer the challenge in her glance, but held her eyes for a second until she nodded imperceptibly and sighed.
“The 21st century is when it all changes, Jack. We’ve got to be ready.” He stared at her bent head for a moment, wondering where and when and who from she’d heard those words, before realising it didn’t matter. She was Torchwood, and she was right. And they weren’t ever going to be ready if he didn’t get back into his team’s good graces, and soon.
“In that case, Miss McShane, I’ll be very pleased for Torchwood 3 to maintain a close working relationship with Torchwood 4. Maybe we could start now with you telling me what that team of mine are up to.”
“Chasing a blowfish in a sports car by all accounts.”
“Oh not again. Maybe I’ll just catch up with them out there.” Jack rose, and flipped open his wrist strap in order to track the SUV; he locked on with no problem and fastened the strap with a smile. Time to get back to his *proper* job. He’d set off for the lift slab when Ace’s voice halted him.
“Er, Jack?” He turned to cast an enquiring glance in her direction. “I’m presuming you’d like to create a good impression for your team seeing as it’s been some months since they saw you.”
“Sure I do, but...”
“You might want to change your shirt first in that case.” Jack looked down at his shirt to discover that it was in no way fit attire for a presumed conquering hero to be wearing whilst returning to the fold. The print of Ace’s boot sole was highlighted by what only could be pteranodon drool and spilt coffee. “If I let you out like that, Ianto would never forgive me.”
“And I can’t have that happening,” Jack said with a grin as he disappeared toward his quarters to get changed. When he emerged, Ace was shrugging into her jacket.
“I’d best be getting to Liverpool then, and see how *my* team are settling down,” she said, voice muffled by the leather. “I’ll drop you off on the way. You can let me know how things work out with the others tomorrow.”
As Jack watched Ace roar off on her bike down the damp and darkened Cardiff streets, he wondered how the team would take his unannounced return and if indeed it would work out. There was only one way to find out; he strode past the abandoned sports car and toward the open door of the house. He was back, and more importantly he was almost home.