[fic] torchwood - order of succession - pg - emily, alice, charles, jack, gen
Title: Order of Succession
Fandom: Torchwood (Tie-in novel Consequences)
Characters: Emily Holroyd, Alice Guppy, Charles Gaskell, Jack Harkness
Rating: PG
Length: ~2600
Summary: In which Emily Holroyd reassesses her view of Captain Jack Harkness. Slightly.
Notes: Written for heddychaa for retconbookwrite. I hope you like it! Thanks, as always, to the lovely solsticezero for the beta. This is based, specifically, on the first story in the Consequences collection, "The Baby Farmers" and features the 1890s/1900s Torchwood team of Emily, Alice, and Charles. Click below for a quick summary of the story.
While Emily is out of the Hub, Jack receives a telegram for her. A reporter would like to meet with her concerning something shady going on with the HMS Hades, an old warship that was converted into a school for wayward boys. When Jack never returns, the team investigates and discovers the ship is actually being used as a front for a crazed scientist to create blowfish/human baby hybrids in an attempt to breed super soldiers. After rescuing Jack and disposing of the widow and scientist running the "school," Team Victorian Torchwood burns down the ship, much to Jack's dismay at the alien life lost. Following the destruction, Alice asks Emily what would happen to Torchwood if Emily were to die and Jack visits the home of the decorated Admiral who was secretly supervising the operation and allows two grown blowfish to kill him.
***
Alice is asleep when Emily slips out of bed, out of her bedroom, out of the residential area of the Hub. She doesn't bother dressing, merely pulls on a dressing gown and makes her way up to her office. Gaskell will be busy with his barmaid and Harkness is off on another one of his fits of conscience; there will be no presence in the Hub aside from Alice and herself until tomorrow morning.
Emily normally sleeps well after a fight, but this was more than a fight. She's used to dealing with scum from other worlds, pests slipping through the damnable rift, but human beings are not her area of concern. Though she knows, logically, that humans can be as cruel and dangerous as any of the creatures they encounter, it normally holds no relevance. But tonight she encountered a level of depravity that she can't seem to shake. She closes her eyes and she still sees the empty nursery, the piles of tiny shoes. She closes her eyes and hears phantom screams, hears the sounds she imagines would be the result of those creatures feeding and worse....
Her office is silent and dark and she forgoes lighting the lamps on the wall in favor of the candles on her desk. She doesn't want to think about baby farmers and grotesque science. The case is finished and compiled, signed by Gaskell and herself and filed neatly by Alice. She has to think of something, though, and her earlier conversation with Alice lingers just beyond her nightmares.
There is a Torchwood office in London a mere ten years old, built with the latest technology, filled with the best scientists and assassins the crown could locate. The old house in Scotland has been turned into nothing more than an archive, and the agents of the crown have made it clear that Cardiff, while important in its own way, is little more than a monitoring outpost. Emily doesn't mind that--better to be left on her own, to her own devices. She prefers making her own rules, and as long as she continues to follow the Torchwood Charter, she's allowed to do just that.
In the event of her death, it's most likely that London will send someone to Cardiff. It may be a field agent or it may be a new leader, but either way she feels it best to give whomever replaces her some very clear guidelines.
The light of the candles is more than enough to see by, to write by, and she carefully fills page after page with instructions for whomever comes after her. She likes writing rules and keeping order, and she knows some of the information will be vital.
The very last thing she writes, after lists of procedures and detailed accounts on the various levels of the Hub, is a succession edict. She makes it clear that the order of succession begins with seniority and then takes into account experience and personal preference. She pauses, reading over her instructions, and then quickly amends what she's written with an addendum.
Despite seniority due to his unique condition, Captain Jack Harkness is not, under any circumstances, to be given command of Torchwood Cardiff. He is as much a menace as the vermin we hunt and is considered a servitor first and an agent second.
She reads over it once or twice more and finally begins to feel the heavy-lidded exhaustion that means sleep is imminent. She piles the papers neatly, extinguishes the candles, and retreats to her rooms in the further depths of the Hub. Alice hasn't moved, and when Emily climbs back into bed, it's as if she never left. She falls asleep immediately, too tired to dwell on the horrors of the day.
If she dreams about babies screaming, she doesn't remember it in the morning.
***
It's a routine sweep through the bowels of Cardiff, no alarm, no rift energy. If pressed, Emily will say it's a training exercise and never admit it's nothing more than an excuse to spend the day out in the rare Cardiff sunshine with Alice. Emily's head has been a bit out of sorts since the mess with the Hades and she appreciates some time to unwind. Gaskell is writing a report, Harkness hasn't been back since the ship burned, and a little time in the fresh air with Alice, making trouble with the locals, is exactly what Emily needs.
She's not sure who's more startled, then, when she and Alice turn the corner and nearly trip over two aliens.
Emily recognizes them immediately. The red, rubbery skin, the thin crest at the top of the head, the protrusions from the side of the head.... Homoformatus piscis she had dubbed them, the amphibious alien creatures that were usually found stealing, cheating, and killing their way through Cardiff for a laugh.
Alice has her knife out before Emily can draw her gun, but already the creatures have their hands up, backing slowly away.
"We have no quarrel with Torchwood," the older one says. "You've helped us. We're leaving this planet and this time in repayment."
"Repayment for what?" Emily asks. Her gun is out, now, but something is stopping her from firing it.
"You stopped them from using us," the younger alien says. "You killed them, and your friend led us to the man responsible. We are in your debt."
"Shoot him," Alice hisses, but even she seems unsure if it's the right course of action.
It is the right course of action. They're Torchwood. They exist to fight alien threats and here's one right in front of them. But alien threats don’t normally thank them for something Emily isn’t certain they’ve actually done.
"What are you talking about?" Emily asks instead of firing. Alice makes a frustrated noise, but follows her lead and stands down.
"Captain Harkness," the older one says. "He helped settle our conflict with the ones stealing our children. He transferred our debt from himself to Torchwood. He asked us to leave. We're doing as he requested."
The younger one pulls back his sleeve and Emily cocks her gun, but all he reveals is a leather strap similar to the one Harkness never takes off. The older creature puts a hand on the strap, and a moment later, both of them are gone.
Emily very slowly lowers her gun. Alice is gaping. She imagines her own expression is similar.
She's not quite sure what just happened or why it happened. She knows they should return to the Hub and write a report, but she has no idea what she would put down. Confronted homoformatus piscis. Upon identification, they willingly retreated from the planet, claiming an owed debt. Harkness involved somehow.
She shakes her head clear and re-holsters her gun, tapping Alice on the shoulder until her knife is safely hidden away as well. She needs to talk to Harkness, but first she'd like a bit of a drink. She doesn't think Alice will object.
***
Odd energy patterns and haywire technology take up the next several days and the incident with the retreating creatures fades from Emily's mind. She does not write a report on the incident, merely records it in her diary for further rumination. She makes a note to call Harkness in the next time she gets a spare moment, but the urgency behind it slips away as the days pass.
The next time she see him, the four of them are facing down a large, orange reptilian creature that is firing on them with a weapon that shoots bursts of energy. Gaskell is unconscious, his arm badly burned, and Alice is pinned behind a stack of barrels on the opposite end of the alley. She and Harkness stand together around the corner of the building, but their bullets are ineffectual against the thick, scaly skin of their aggressor.
"We need to hit it under the chin," Harkness shouts over the buzzing of the energy weapon being steadily fired. Emily nods, but her eyes aren't on Harkness. They're not even on the creature. Her eyes are on the pile of barrels and the way the energy rays are destroying one after the other. Alice is trapped and for all her years as leader, all her experience, Emily cannot see a way out.
Her view of the barrels is suddenly obstructed by Harkness, who is no longer at her side, but running towards the creature, babbling about space invaders and multiplayer and Emily has no idea what he's saying, but the monster turns the blaster on Harkness, and Emily immediately knows what she must do. As the creature fires on Harkness, Emily sprints forward and aims her revolver at the spot under the chin that Harkness had pointed out.
Harkness hits the ground, dead. Seconds later, the creature does the same.
Alice races forward, her skin a shade paler than usual, but in good enough spirits to tap Harkness' shoulder with her boot.
"Dead, then?" she asks, breathless. Emily swallows an unidentifiable emotion and nods.
"Both," she manages to say.
"Harkness will be back," Alice says lightly. "He always is."
"Mm," Emily agrees. It's just as well. It's time she had another chat with him.
***
Harkness is slumped in her office chair when he wakes up.
She and Alice dragged him in themselves in a scene not unlike his first visit to the Hub. He's upstairs, this time, however and not restrained. Additionally, Emily has sent Alice down to the archives on an errand and Gaskell is nursing a brandy in the medical bay. She wants to have this conversation with Harkness alone and uninterrupted.
He wakes gasping, as he always does, his eyes wide as he looks around, trying to place himself.
"We destroyed it," Emily says before he can ask. "Your distraction gave me ample time to kill it."
Harkness doesn't even blink. Normally, the death of one of these monsters draws at least a token protest, but he just sets his jaw and nods.
"Not the friendliest visitors," he says. "Had a few run ins with them myself back in the day. Some species you just can't negotiate with."
"Like those amphibians the other day," she says.
"The blowfish?" Harkness asks. He laughs. "You can't negotiate with blowfish for an entirely different reason--they'll double and triple cross everyone in their paths until they get what they want. Not all of them, of course, but they're homebodies. Not likely to come visiting other planets unless they've been kicked off of their own. But the one thing they understand is family."
"You used them to kill Admiral Montague," Emily says. It's a statement, not an accusation, and Harkness nods agreeably.
"Seemed like the best thing to do," he said. "Montague was backed by the crown, and even if we are as well, getting him to shut down and take responsibility for what happened would have been a longer battle then any of us care to fight. I just had a little chat with our friends and let nature take its course."
That's not an entirely invalid choice, not that Emily will ever admit it. She doesn't normally like to bother herself with cleaning up the human element of their Torchwood cases, but Harkness made a good decision, both politically and practically.
"Sending them away, though," Emily says, and Harkness shrugs.
"Look, clearly if you knew, you had a chance to stop it and you didn't," he says. "They're off the planet, aren't they? No longer a threat to Britain. You got what you wanted and no one got killed."
"And if they come back?" Emily asks.
"Then you'll kill them then," Harkness says. "They're not about to plan a hostile takeover. I told you before, the ones that end up here, they're cast-offs. They're drunks and liars and cheats but they're not organized. They'd betray each other if it got them out of a tight spot." Emily purses her lips and Harkness just rolls his eyes. "I'm not saying that all the things coming through the rift can be shrugged off like that," he says. "I'm just saying... I've seen a lot. That's why you keep me on such a short leash, isn't it? My knowledge is useful. And not everything out there is trying to kill us. Sometimes, it's easier to just let the little things slip by so we can concentrate on the big ones."
"Last time I checked, Captain Harkness, you were not in charge of this organization," Emily says.
"Thank god for that," Harkness mutters.
They stare each other down, the only sound Harkness' noisy breathing and the steady ticking of the clock on her desk. There are other things she wants to ask him about, curiosities that are niggling, but she doesn't quite know how to phrase it without giving away more than she'd like.
"And today?" she asks. "Are you really so intent on testing your deranged abilities?"
Harkness barks out a short laugh.
"I've got a lot of life to spare, baby," he says. "I can't see making someone else give up theirs. Paperwork's gotta be easier this way, doesn't it?"
He smirks when he says it, one of those wide, predatory smiles that look ridiculous to Emily but make the girls and boys down at the pub swoon. It's covering up something else, though, and for a moment, Emily thinks that maybe she and Harkness understand each other. Maybe he has more to offer Torchwood than she thought.
"Fine," she says. "I expect a report."
"Of course, Miss Holroyd," Harkness says with that same smirk, even as Emily waves him out of the office. "I'll have it on your desk by tomorrow morning." He salutes her, cheekily, and then swoops out of the room and down towards the Hub atrium. He passes Alice, who gives him a withering look before entering Emily's office.
"Where's the freak off to?" she asks, raising her eyebrows.
"The nearest pub, I would wager, to join the other miscreants."
Alice rolls her eyes dismissively, and then stalks towards the desk, her expression predatory. "I've had some trouble locating the item you've requested, Miss Holroyd," she says, her tone unmistakable. "Perhaps you could accompany me down to the archives to help me obtain it?"
Emily smiles slow and easy, the last of the adrenaline from earlier settling low and warm in her stomach.
"Of course, Miss Guppy," she says. "I have something to finish up here. If you head down now, I will join you promptly."
"Very well," Alice says, and with one last smile, she retreats.
Once she's out of sight, Emily reaches into her desk drawer and pulls out the Torchwood Cardiff charter. She flips to the very last page and blots out the last sentence. Carefully, she writes in its place, Captain Harkness is a freelance agent and not to be considered for day-to-day operations as it is unclear where his loyalties lie.
She doesn't trust Harkness and she never will, but today he saved the life of another agent and his mind isn't quite as dull as she had previously thought. It doesn't earn him much respect, but it's slightly more than she had for him the day before and it's the only way she can think to say 'thank you.'
She locks the charter back in her desk and smiles to herself as she leaves to join Alice in the archives.
Fandom: Torchwood (Tie-in novel Consequences)
Characters: Emily Holroyd, Alice Guppy, Charles Gaskell, Jack Harkness
Rating: PG
Length: ~2600
Summary: In which Emily Holroyd reassesses her view of Captain Jack Harkness. Slightly.
Notes: Written for heddychaa for retconbookwrite. I hope you like it! Thanks, as always, to the lovely solsticezero for the beta. This is based, specifically, on the first story in the Consequences collection, "The Baby Farmers" and features the 1890s/1900s Torchwood team of Emily, Alice, and Charles. Click below for a quick summary of the story.
While Emily is out of the Hub, Jack receives a telegram for her. A reporter would like to meet with her concerning something shady going on with the HMS Hades, an old warship that was converted into a school for wayward boys. When Jack never returns, the team investigates and discovers the ship is actually being used as a front for a crazed scientist to create blowfish/human baby hybrids in an attempt to breed super soldiers. After rescuing Jack and disposing of the widow and scientist running the "school," Team Victorian Torchwood burns down the ship, much to Jack's dismay at the alien life lost. Following the destruction, Alice asks Emily what would happen to Torchwood if Emily were to die and Jack visits the home of the decorated Admiral who was secretly supervising the operation and allows two grown blowfish to kill him.
***
Alice is asleep when Emily slips out of bed, out of her bedroom, out of the residential area of the Hub. She doesn't bother dressing, merely pulls on a dressing gown and makes her way up to her office. Gaskell will be busy with his barmaid and Harkness is off on another one of his fits of conscience; there will be no presence in the Hub aside from Alice and herself until tomorrow morning.
Emily normally sleeps well after a fight, but this was more than a fight. She's used to dealing with scum from other worlds, pests slipping through the damnable rift, but human beings are not her area of concern. Though she knows, logically, that humans can be as cruel and dangerous as any of the creatures they encounter, it normally holds no relevance. But tonight she encountered a level of depravity that she can't seem to shake. She closes her eyes and she still sees the empty nursery, the piles of tiny shoes. She closes her eyes and hears phantom screams, hears the sounds she imagines would be the result of those creatures feeding and worse....
Her office is silent and dark and she forgoes lighting the lamps on the wall in favor of the candles on her desk. She doesn't want to think about baby farmers and grotesque science. The case is finished and compiled, signed by Gaskell and herself and filed neatly by Alice. She has to think of something, though, and her earlier conversation with Alice lingers just beyond her nightmares.
There is a Torchwood office in London a mere ten years old, built with the latest technology, filled with the best scientists and assassins the crown could locate. The old house in Scotland has been turned into nothing more than an archive, and the agents of the crown have made it clear that Cardiff, while important in its own way, is little more than a monitoring outpost. Emily doesn't mind that--better to be left on her own, to her own devices. She prefers making her own rules, and as long as she continues to follow the Torchwood Charter, she's allowed to do just that.
In the event of her death, it's most likely that London will send someone to Cardiff. It may be a field agent or it may be a new leader, but either way she feels it best to give whomever replaces her some very clear guidelines.
The light of the candles is more than enough to see by, to write by, and she carefully fills page after page with instructions for whomever comes after her. She likes writing rules and keeping order, and she knows some of the information will be vital.
The very last thing she writes, after lists of procedures and detailed accounts on the various levels of the Hub, is a succession edict. She makes it clear that the order of succession begins with seniority and then takes into account experience and personal preference. She pauses, reading over her instructions, and then quickly amends what she's written with an addendum.
Despite seniority due to his unique condition, Captain Jack Harkness is not, under any circumstances, to be given command of Torchwood Cardiff. He is as much a menace as the vermin we hunt and is considered a servitor first and an agent second.
She reads over it once or twice more and finally begins to feel the heavy-lidded exhaustion that means sleep is imminent. She piles the papers neatly, extinguishes the candles, and retreats to her rooms in the further depths of the Hub. Alice hasn't moved, and when Emily climbs back into bed, it's as if she never left. She falls asleep immediately, too tired to dwell on the horrors of the day.
If she dreams about babies screaming, she doesn't remember it in the morning.
***
It's a routine sweep through the bowels of Cardiff, no alarm, no rift energy. If pressed, Emily will say it's a training exercise and never admit it's nothing more than an excuse to spend the day out in the rare Cardiff sunshine with Alice. Emily's head has been a bit out of sorts since the mess with the Hades and she appreciates some time to unwind. Gaskell is writing a report, Harkness hasn't been back since the ship burned, and a little time in the fresh air with Alice, making trouble with the locals, is exactly what Emily needs.
She's not sure who's more startled, then, when she and Alice turn the corner and nearly trip over two aliens.
Emily recognizes them immediately. The red, rubbery skin, the thin crest at the top of the head, the protrusions from the side of the head.... Homoformatus piscis she had dubbed them, the amphibious alien creatures that were usually found stealing, cheating, and killing their way through Cardiff for a laugh.
Alice has her knife out before Emily can draw her gun, but already the creatures have their hands up, backing slowly away.
"We have no quarrel with Torchwood," the older one says. "You've helped us. We're leaving this planet and this time in repayment."
"Repayment for what?" Emily asks. Her gun is out, now, but something is stopping her from firing it.
"You stopped them from using us," the younger alien says. "You killed them, and your friend led us to the man responsible. We are in your debt."
"Shoot him," Alice hisses, but even she seems unsure if it's the right course of action.
It is the right course of action. They're Torchwood. They exist to fight alien threats and here's one right in front of them. But alien threats don’t normally thank them for something Emily isn’t certain they’ve actually done.
"What are you talking about?" Emily asks instead of firing. Alice makes a frustrated noise, but follows her lead and stands down.
"Captain Harkness," the older one says. "He helped settle our conflict with the ones stealing our children. He transferred our debt from himself to Torchwood. He asked us to leave. We're doing as he requested."
The younger one pulls back his sleeve and Emily cocks her gun, but all he reveals is a leather strap similar to the one Harkness never takes off. The older creature puts a hand on the strap, and a moment later, both of them are gone.
Emily very slowly lowers her gun. Alice is gaping. She imagines her own expression is similar.
She's not quite sure what just happened or why it happened. She knows they should return to the Hub and write a report, but she has no idea what she would put down. Confronted homoformatus piscis. Upon identification, they willingly retreated from the planet, claiming an owed debt. Harkness involved somehow.
She shakes her head clear and re-holsters her gun, tapping Alice on the shoulder until her knife is safely hidden away as well. She needs to talk to Harkness, but first she'd like a bit of a drink. She doesn't think Alice will object.
***
Odd energy patterns and haywire technology take up the next several days and the incident with the retreating creatures fades from Emily's mind. She does not write a report on the incident, merely records it in her diary for further rumination. She makes a note to call Harkness in the next time she gets a spare moment, but the urgency behind it slips away as the days pass.
The next time she see him, the four of them are facing down a large, orange reptilian creature that is firing on them with a weapon that shoots bursts of energy. Gaskell is unconscious, his arm badly burned, and Alice is pinned behind a stack of barrels on the opposite end of the alley. She and Harkness stand together around the corner of the building, but their bullets are ineffectual against the thick, scaly skin of their aggressor.
"We need to hit it under the chin," Harkness shouts over the buzzing of the energy weapon being steadily fired. Emily nods, but her eyes aren't on Harkness. They're not even on the creature. Her eyes are on the pile of barrels and the way the energy rays are destroying one after the other. Alice is trapped and for all her years as leader, all her experience, Emily cannot see a way out.
Her view of the barrels is suddenly obstructed by Harkness, who is no longer at her side, but running towards the creature, babbling about space invaders and multiplayer and Emily has no idea what he's saying, but the monster turns the blaster on Harkness, and Emily immediately knows what she must do. As the creature fires on Harkness, Emily sprints forward and aims her revolver at the spot under the chin that Harkness had pointed out.
Harkness hits the ground, dead. Seconds later, the creature does the same.
Alice races forward, her skin a shade paler than usual, but in good enough spirits to tap Harkness' shoulder with her boot.
"Dead, then?" she asks, breathless. Emily swallows an unidentifiable emotion and nods.
"Both," she manages to say.
"Harkness will be back," Alice says lightly. "He always is."
"Mm," Emily agrees. It's just as well. It's time she had another chat with him.
***
Harkness is slumped in her office chair when he wakes up.
She and Alice dragged him in themselves in a scene not unlike his first visit to the Hub. He's upstairs, this time, however and not restrained. Additionally, Emily has sent Alice down to the archives on an errand and Gaskell is nursing a brandy in the medical bay. She wants to have this conversation with Harkness alone and uninterrupted.
He wakes gasping, as he always does, his eyes wide as he looks around, trying to place himself.
"We destroyed it," Emily says before he can ask. "Your distraction gave me ample time to kill it."
Harkness doesn't even blink. Normally, the death of one of these monsters draws at least a token protest, but he just sets his jaw and nods.
"Not the friendliest visitors," he says. "Had a few run ins with them myself back in the day. Some species you just can't negotiate with."
"Like those amphibians the other day," she says.
"The blowfish?" Harkness asks. He laughs. "You can't negotiate with blowfish for an entirely different reason--they'll double and triple cross everyone in their paths until they get what they want. Not all of them, of course, but they're homebodies. Not likely to come visiting other planets unless they've been kicked off of their own. But the one thing they understand is family."
"You used them to kill Admiral Montague," Emily says. It's a statement, not an accusation, and Harkness nods agreeably.
"Seemed like the best thing to do," he said. "Montague was backed by the crown, and even if we are as well, getting him to shut down and take responsibility for what happened would have been a longer battle then any of us care to fight. I just had a little chat with our friends and let nature take its course."
That's not an entirely invalid choice, not that Emily will ever admit it. She doesn't normally like to bother herself with cleaning up the human element of their Torchwood cases, but Harkness made a good decision, both politically and practically.
"Sending them away, though," Emily says, and Harkness shrugs.
"Look, clearly if you knew, you had a chance to stop it and you didn't," he says. "They're off the planet, aren't they? No longer a threat to Britain. You got what you wanted and no one got killed."
"And if they come back?" Emily asks.
"Then you'll kill them then," Harkness says. "They're not about to plan a hostile takeover. I told you before, the ones that end up here, they're cast-offs. They're drunks and liars and cheats but they're not organized. They'd betray each other if it got them out of a tight spot." Emily purses her lips and Harkness just rolls his eyes. "I'm not saying that all the things coming through the rift can be shrugged off like that," he says. "I'm just saying... I've seen a lot. That's why you keep me on such a short leash, isn't it? My knowledge is useful. And not everything out there is trying to kill us. Sometimes, it's easier to just let the little things slip by so we can concentrate on the big ones."
"Last time I checked, Captain Harkness, you were not in charge of this organization," Emily says.
"Thank god for that," Harkness mutters.
They stare each other down, the only sound Harkness' noisy breathing and the steady ticking of the clock on her desk. There are other things she wants to ask him about, curiosities that are niggling, but she doesn't quite know how to phrase it without giving away more than she'd like.
"And today?" she asks. "Are you really so intent on testing your deranged abilities?"
Harkness barks out a short laugh.
"I've got a lot of life to spare, baby," he says. "I can't see making someone else give up theirs. Paperwork's gotta be easier this way, doesn't it?"
He smirks when he says it, one of those wide, predatory smiles that look ridiculous to Emily but make the girls and boys down at the pub swoon. It's covering up something else, though, and for a moment, Emily thinks that maybe she and Harkness understand each other. Maybe he has more to offer Torchwood than she thought.
"Fine," she says. "I expect a report."
"Of course, Miss Holroyd," Harkness says with that same smirk, even as Emily waves him out of the office. "I'll have it on your desk by tomorrow morning." He salutes her, cheekily, and then swoops out of the room and down towards the Hub atrium. He passes Alice, who gives him a withering look before entering Emily's office.
"Where's the freak off to?" she asks, raising her eyebrows.
"The nearest pub, I would wager, to join the other miscreants."
Alice rolls her eyes dismissively, and then stalks towards the desk, her expression predatory. "I've had some trouble locating the item you've requested, Miss Holroyd," she says, her tone unmistakable. "Perhaps you could accompany me down to the archives to help me obtain it?"
Emily smiles slow and easy, the last of the adrenaline from earlier settling low and warm in her stomach.
"Of course, Miss Guppy," she says. "I have something to finish up here. If you head down now, I will join you promptly."
"Very well," Alice says, and with one last smile, she retreats.
Once she's out of sight, Emily reaches into her desk drawer and pulls out the Torchwood Cardiff charter. She flips to the very last page and blots out the last sentence. Carefully, she writes in its place, Captain Harkness is a freelance agent and not to be considered for day-to-day operations as it is unclear where his loyalties lie.
She doesn't trust Harkness and she never will, but today he saved the life of another agent and his mind isn't quite as dull as she had previously thought. It doesn't earn him much respect, but it's slightly more than she had for him the day before and it's the only way she can think to say 'thank you.'
She locks the charter back in her desk and smiles to herself as she leaves to join Alice in the archives.