Chapter 20: Reunited and Back to Work
Inspired by interactions in the Hotel California Panfandom RPG, this is a joint project between two women who adored the idea of Jack recruiting Buffy to Torchwood. Perhaps they adored it a little too much, but that remains to be seen.
Title: So Buffy Met Jack...
Authors: Amy tainted_crimson & Sarah magicom; Guest writer Danielle colorofangels
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Torchwood
Spoilers: Through Buffy / Angel series finales and Torchwood Series 2 / Doctor Who Series 4. (Some elements borrowed from Season 8 comics)
Rating: FR-15 (for usual Torchwood-ness)
Disclaimer: Everything is owned by Joss/Fox and Russell/BBC!
Summary: After spending a few weeks trapped in an extratemporal holding cell together, Captain Jack Harkness offered Buffy Summers a job at Torchwood. And how could she ever turn down an offer like that?
Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19
REUNITED AND BACK TO WORK
Jack was on his second cup of coffee by 8:30am. He'd refrained from calling Buffy the previous evening, after she'd left. She'd been jetlagged and he hadn't wanted to disturb her rest. Still, he wanted to see if she was feeling any better. He hadn't expected such a strong reaction on her part to what was, essentially, a minor injury. Jack, for his part, had been scared to death for just a moment, when the creature had suddenly turned away from him to attack Ianto, but afterwards, when the injury had been treated, he was just relieved that it hadn't been serious. His office was entirely windows where it overlooked the Hub's main operations area. He got up from his desk and went over, looking out across the silent space. He caught Myffanwy in flight out of the corner of his eye. His gaze scanned the workstations, the coffee area and the medical bay looking for Ianto, but he couldn't see him. Maybe he'd gone down to the vaults or the archives. Jack gave up and went back to his desk. It was littered with paperwork that he should be completing, but his attention refused to be held by it. He picked up his coffee cup and wrapped his hands around it, propping his elbows on the desk. He wouldn't call his mood 'anxious', per se. He felt like he'd put his foot in it the previous night and he wanted to know if Buffy was okay now. That was all. Really.
Buffy quickened her pace across the wooden boards leading the way to the little tourist office disguising one of her favorite places in the world. Funny, back in the old days, 'work' never seemed like a fun idea, but since joining Torchwood, she'd started looking forward to each new day. And she had missed it desperately while she'd been gone.
She took a quick second to check her reflection in the window, smoothing a piece of hair back into the clip she'd twisted the blonde mess into, and then hurried inside. She was determined not to let her teammates notice that she'd barely slept the night before, or that she'd spent the time not used for sleeping for crying her eyes out. So the makeup was in full-force, along with her best jeans, heeled boots, and a pretty black blouse. She hefted her two bags higher onto her shoulder and hurried inside, the elevator seeming to take far too long and the cog door going as slow as an old snail.
There was no one in sight when she entered the Hub Lobby. That was weird.
Jack heard the proximity alarm and went to his window to see who had just made their entrance through the cog door. It was Buffy. Thank God.
He put his coffee down and stepped out of his office, leaning on the rail of the small staircase there.
"Morning, Sunshine!" he called out cheerfully across the empty Hub. "How's the jetlag?"
Buffy half-froze and half-jumped when she heard Jack's cheerful voice. It sounded like an impossible combination of reactions, but that was the only way to describe her jerky movement as she tried not to trip over her own feet. When she'd confirmed that she'd be staying upright, she glared up at Jack. As usual, he was way too perky. Maybe this was a 'taste of her own medicine' kind of thing? Nah.
"It's kicking my ass, thanks, how're you this morning?" she called back with a sarcastic smile as she dropped her messenger bag and gym bag by her desk.
She glanced over at the unoccupied coffee station and pouted. She knew she should have stopped at that little diner on her way in. She needed her morning coffee, but no way was she messing with Ianto's Tools of Coffee Godness. She didn't want to end up in the Welsh doghouse when she hadn't even been back for twenty-four hours.
Jack laughed. "Don't look like that! He's around here somewhere. I'm sure of it! I've had coffee," he told her with a grin.
Ianto chose that moment to reappear with his good arm full of files. "Having coffee makes you sure of what?" he asked absently, carefully depositing the files on his desk in such a way that they wouldn't slide off onto the floor as soon as he let go of them.
"That you're alive and here and HI IANTO!" Buffy exclaimed brightly, hurrying over to the man who was, yet again, wearing an impeccable suit. He'd already set the files down by the time she got there, so she couldn't help with that, damn, but she was still all smiles for him.
His good arm now free, she latched onto it for a moment, clinging to the arm and doing her best impression of a five-year-old in a toy store. "Hi-Ianto-I-love-you-will-you-make-me-coffee-please-please-please?" It all came out as fast she could manage and she'd willingly blame the jetlag for her sugar-high appearance. "I didn't want to touch the Sacred Coffee God Space to get my own," she explained in slower words, her smile as sweet as candy.
Ianto looked up at Jack with a sort of 'rescue me, please!' look on his face, but Jack just grinned and sauntered back into his office. Ianto carefully extricated his arm from the Buffy Grip of Perkiness and nodded. "I think I can manage a cup of coffee," he assured her with a bit of a smile. He'd noticed that, even though she'd accepted it happily the previous night, she'd barely taken a sip. "Did you... want the usual?" he asked casually, dropping some beans into the grinder. "Or something else?"
"The usual would be amazing," she assured him, her smile dropping down a few watts to something more everyday and not-so-freaky. Watching him going about his usual coffee preparations, she could guess where the question had come from. "Sorry I didn't drink it last night. It wasn't a personal snub or anything, I was just distracted. No offense meant, I assure you. Your coffee was one of my most-missed things when I was gone; apparently there is no decent coffee in all of Cleveland. I know, I looked."
Ianto smiled almost self-consciously when she told him there was no decent coffee in all of Cleveland. He made her usual non-fat mocha, complete with sprinkles and handed it to her. He never produced these little works of caffeinated art with any sort of a flourish. He just put it in her hands, gave her a small, encouraging smile and turned to his files.
Buffy gave him a little smile and a soft, "Thanks," when he handed her the drink. She took a hesitant sip, more than willing to suffer the momentary pain of a still-hot beverage in return for the warmth that immediately began to chase away a few of the shadows clinging to her soul.
"It's good to be home," she observed with a quiet sigh before turning her attention back to her teammate. "So, what kind of lovely paperwork have you got for me? I'm sure it was just piling up somewhere in my absence."
"Erm, no," Ianto said, almost sounding uneasy, like he thought he was going to disappoint her. "I actually finished it up last night." He turned his gaze from his files to Buffy. "I thought you'd probably want to jump right back into the field," he admitted. "And that... training... stuff," he added, gesturing towards the floor and, by extension, her training room, with a flick of his eyes.
He looked back at her face for a sign as to whether he'd just fucked up with her again, for the second time in as many days.
Oh. That was... unexpected. Buffy had actually been sort of looking forward to the monotony of Torchwood paperwork, as much as it would shock anyone who knew her, because it was normal and would help her feel like she was really back at home. But... he'd been trying to help. She could see that uncertainty in his eyes, that worry that things were going to be just like the night before. And she couldn't have that now, could she?
"Best present ever," she told him with a smile, pulling on her gratitude toward his gesture to make the smile a real one. "Really. You know I'm just like Jack with the paperwork hate-age. And I actually brought some things so I could train today," she added with a nod toward her desk, where the gym bag waited for her.
Ianto glanced at the gym bag she'd pointed out, nodded and tidied the pile of folders a bit. "I'll let you know if something comes up, though," he assured her.
"Thanks," she acknowledged, smile still in place. "I'll be downstairs if anyone needs me."
And then she turned, walking to her desk to grab the bag before heading for the stairs. The moment she was out of Ianto's sight, the smile faded and the deep lines of depression returned. Her training room was just as amazingly impeccable as it had been the first time she'd seen it, when her teammates had surprised her, back before things had taken their dark turn in her life. She gazed longingly at the heavy bag, at the broad expanse of open space for her katas, but she just... couldn't. The shadows were back, and no matter how much she cradled her coffee-shaped teddy bear as she sat on a bench against the wall, they just refused to be chased away again.
Jack jogged down the steps from his office with his empty coffee cup in his hand. He deposited it on the edge of Ianto's desk and looked around.
"Where's Buffy?" he asked.
"Training room," Ianto replied.
Jack looked at him for a moment. "How was she?" he asked.
"Bit odd," Ianto admitted. He looked up at Jack. "I couldn't really put my finger on it, but there was something. Smile didn't quite reach her eyes most of the time."
Jack nodded. "I'm going to go check in with her," he said, sliding his hands into his pockets and strolling towards the stairs to the lower levels.
When he got to the training room, he leaned on the doorway. She was sitting against the far wall, staring down her coffee cup.
"You know, if you don't drink that, you're going to give him a complex," Jack told her lightly with a hint of a smile.
Buffy vaguely remembered hearing him coming, but suddenly Jack was right there and she couldn't hope to ignore him. She glanced over at him, her expression betraying the sadness permeating her thoughts, and then raised the mug to her lips. A few long drinks later and over half the coffee was gone.
There, problem solved.
She set the mug on the bench beside her, then leaned her head back against the wall. "Feels like it's been a lifetime since I was last down here," she observed in her normal voice, knowing the room had pretty great acoustics and would carry her voice to him easily.
Jack straightened up and walked over, dropping onto the bench beside her. "Seemed like an eternity to us," he agreed. "And I don't use that word lightly."
He leaned his head back against the wall himself, then turned to look at her. He gave her a playful nudge with his elbow. "We missed you," he told her plainly. "After a couple of weeks passed, I tried calling now and then... but I just got your voicemail. I didn't leave a message," he explained, so she'd know why there weren't any. "I figured you had to be busy. It couldn't have been easy cleaning up after a mess like that."
Buffy smiled sadly at that, staring at nothing against the far wall as she thought about that last bit he'd said. Finally, she nodded her agreement with the statement. "I had to deal with the families," she told him quietly, her voice sounding like a woman far older than the age of twenty-eight. "They were all so young, and their parents knew the risks, but they never thought... They were never supposed to be put in that kind of position, not yet."
Leaning forward to set her elbows on her knees, Buffy covered her face with her hands. "There aren't any more," she said cryptically, the weight of a destiny she'd never wanted pressing down on her. She felt like she was about to break. "When we did what we did... We broke something and I don't think there's any way to fix it and I just... I don't know what to do."
"There aren't any more..." Jack prompted, his voice trailing off. "Do you mean Slayers? There's aren't any more... as in, there never will be?" he asked curiously. He gazed across the room for a moment, thinking that over, trying to understand the possible ramifications. "But Slayers are mortal," he pointed out. "Once you're all gone... is there anyone to take over the fight?"
She lifted her head, her hands falling away, and shook her head. "No one like us," she said, sounding more than a little lost and... hopeless. "Slayers are the front line on the battlefield. We have Watchers and Witches and... some friends in the demon world who would rather live with humans, but..." It wasn't enough. It wouldn't be enough, even with how much things had changed since the days of the old Watcher's Council.
Jack reached over and took her hand. "And if you hadn't done what you did, could you have beaten the First?" he asked. "Could you have saved the world? And if you couldn't have, would it have mattered whether new Slayers would ever be called or not?"
Buffy clung to his hand and moved closer so she could rest her head on Jack's shoulder. "That's what makes it so... frustrating," she admitted. "There wasn't anything else we could have done. We were a dozen scared girls and a handful of seasoned fighters, and we didn't stand a chance on our own. And look what we have to show for it." Her tone was turning bitter, the years having worn her down in all the wrong places. "Save the world only to end up right back where we started, being picked off until there's no one left. It's just what the First wanted, the end of the Slayer line."
"That's what a war is," Jack said. "But somebody still has to fight, because if there's the slightest chance of holding off hell for the lucky, unknowing, unseeing masses that walk around on the surface, then it has to be done." His voice was soft, but full of conviction. He looked down at her. "Still, the casualties are never easy to take and it can be hard not to let them break you."
Buffy let out a deep sigh, knowing his words were true because she'd said them herself, so many years ago.
"You know, at one point, some of them actually tried arguing that this was all my fault to get me to stay," she said in a quiet voice tinged with sadness. "It's Buffy's fault, it was her idea, she should stick around to help clean up the mess and figure out how to fix it."
Jack pulled back a bit to get a proper look at her, a slightly horrified expression on his face. "Your fault?" he said. "How could it possibly be your fault?"
Buffy gave Jack a one-shouldered shrug, the weariness of her years of battle showing clearly in the apathetic gesture. "Everything usually ended up being my fault at some point or other, where someone was concerned," she explained. "I was the oldest, the one in charge, even if most of my days were spent behind a desk. I made the decisions, so I was crucified for them. Just seemed natural, I guess, to continue the trend."
He gave her hand a squeeze. "All the more reason to stick with Torchwood," he told her lightly. "Around here, everything's my fault," he joked, giving her a little nudge with his shoulder.
Buffy returned the nudge with a playful smirk. "Why do you I think I took that job offer?" she teased. "It wasn't your dashing good looks, I'll tell you, or that sex-charm you ooze all over the place, because I seem to remember the both of us being taken."
Jack looked at her with mock horror. "I do not 'ooze'," he objected. He grinned. "But I'm pretty sure I was told that it was entirely the thrall," he reminded her. "And then you made Ianto say it, and that was just hot."
Buffy raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm gonna tell Ianto you said that," she informed him with complete seriousness. "And then you'll never hear that word outta his mouth again. Pity, what with those lovely Welsh vowels and all..."
Teasing was part of Torchwood training.
Jack raised an eyebrow at her, accepting the challenge. "He knows that I thought it was hot. In fact, I doubt I could ever say anything that would surprise him, so I don't know what telling on me is going to accomplish!" he pointed out.
Buffy just stared at Jack for a moment, then reached up to poke his cheek with her finger. "You are incorrigible," she designated, then settled back against him and his shoulder. "And we wouldn't have you any other way."
"That's a relief," he said with a smile. He leaned his head back against the wall before turning to look down at Buffy again. "Listen," he said more seriously. "Whatever was said back there... I hope you didn't take it to heart. All joking aside, I really don't want to have to go over there."
Buffy just smiled and chuckled quietly. "No offense, Jack, but between the Mini Slayers, the Witches, and our fully-trained Watchers, if you went over there, you'd probably get your ass handed to you," she said a bit more cheerily. "But the sentiment is very appreciated."
"Well, that's the beauty if being me," he said. "You can get your ass handed to you and then shock the hell out of everyone by getting up and handing it back," he told her with a wink.
"Oh, so that's the beauty of you," she said in her best sarcastically ditzy tone. "I thought it was that ego big enough to need its own annex. My mistake."
"Well," he said with a wave. "That has its fans and its detractors," he admitted. "The parlour trick is almost always a hit."
Buffy snorted and shook her head at him. "If I couldn't die, I wouldn't call it a 'parlour trick'," she commented with amusement. "But then, I've only done the whole back-to-life thing a few times, so I'm not exactly an expert, like some people."
Jack leaned towards her a bit. "I used to do it in a sideshow," he told her conspiratorially. "Shot myself in the head and got up after to bow for the applause. Three shows a night."
Buffy blinked at him for a moment. "Were you bored?" she questioned, an incredulous expression on her face.
"No," Jack said. "I was sent to investigate rumours of this... supernatural traveling show that was said to steal the last breath of the people who went to see them." He shrugged. "I suppose, back then, I used to sorta hope that if I shot myself enough times I might not come back, eventually." He looked at Buffy again. "I know that'll never happen, now. I can't die. Not ever. Not from anything."
There was no expression on her face as Buffy took in those words, words that, if applied to herself, would be soul-crushing. Unable to die. Unable to ever return to the peace and warmth of heaven. It was too horrible to imagine, and yet here was Jack, living it.
There was nothing to say. No words could ever ease the pain that had been experience to reach that conclusion. So Buffy did the only thing she could and slid her arms around Jack, hugging him without squeezing too much. He might be all immortal and whatnot, but she figured a few Slayer-broken ribs wouldn't exactly make his day.
He hugged her back. "Don't feel bad for me," he said. "I don't regret nearly as much as I used to. I've had the chance to meet a lot of people - people that are important to me - that I never would have met if I'd only lived one lifetime. That's something I can take some solace in." He released his hold on her. "Speaking of which, why don't we go see our resident Coffee God before I go into caffeine withdrawal," he suggested with a grin. "I've only had two cups of coffee this morning, you know."
A swirling mass of light, energy, and magic opened in the empty tourist’s office, loose papers fluttering around the room, as a man clad in black leather stepped nimbly through the portal. He had to take a moment to gather his bearings as the light blipped out behind him, taking the mystical wind with it, leaving an unnatural hush in the room. He didn’t particularly enjoy traveling by portal, it would actually suffice to say he despised it was a passion, the sensation was similar to going through the washing machine on the rinse cycle, but it had become the standard NC mode of emergency travel and while he still distrusted magic, this occasion in his opinion qualified as an emergency.
Taking a deep, unneeded breath he took in his surroundings with a frown. He had had Malavika, the most senior witch on his team, send him to the address he had been given, but this wasn’t anything like he was expecting. If he had to wait out the remaining daylight hours in this little hole in the wall he would be having a few strong and colorful words with the young Wicca when he got back to India.
AN: Don't hate us! Also, reviews encourage us to write faster. Seriously, we get all giddy and the fingers fly...
Title: So Buffy Met Jack...
Authors: Amy tainted_crimson & Sarah magicom; Guest writer Danielle colorofangels
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Torchwood
Spoilers: Through Buffy / Angel series finales and Torchwood Series 2 / Doctor Who Series 4. (Some elements borrowed from Season 8 comics)
Rating: FR-15 (for usual Torchwood-ness)
Disclaimer: Everything is owned by Joss/Fox and Russell/BBC!
Summary: After spending a few weeks trapped in an extratemporal holding cell together, Captain Jack Harkness offered Buffy Summers a job at Torchwood. And how could she ever turn down an offer like that?
Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19
REUNITED AND BACK TO WORK
Jack was on his second cup of coffee by 8:30am. He'd refrained from calling Buffy the previous evening, after she'd left. She'd been jetlagged and he hadn't wanted to disturb her rest. Still, he wanted to see if she was feeling any better. He hadn't expected such a strong reaction on her part to what was, essentially, a minor injury. Jack, for his part, had been scared to death for just a moment, when the creature had suddenly turned away from him to attack Ianto, but afterwards, when the injury had been treated, he was just relieved that it hadn't been serious. His office was entirely windows where it overlooked the Hub's main operations area. He got up from his desk and went over, looking out across the silent space. He caught Myffanwy in flight out of the corner of his eye. His gaze scanned the workstations, the coffee area and the medical bay looking for Ianto, but he couldn't see him. Maybe he'd gone down to the vaults or the archives. Jack gave up and went back to his desk. It was littered with paperwork that he should be completing, but his attention refused to be held by it. He picked up his coffee cup and wrapped his hands around it, propping his elbows on the desk. He wouldn't call his mood 'anxious', per se. He felt like he'd put his foot in it the previous night and he wanted to know if Buffy was okay now. That was all. Really.
Buffy quickened her pace across the wooden boards leading the way to the little tourist office disguising one of her favorite places in the world. Funny, back in the old days, 'work' never seemed like a fun idea, but since joining Torchwood, she'd started looking forward to each new day. And she had missed it desperately while she'd been gone.
She took a quick second to check her reflection in the window, smoothing a piece of hair back into the clip she'd twisted the blonde mess into, and then hurried inside. She was determined not to let her teammates notice that she'd barely slept the night before, or that she'd spent the time not used for sleeping for crying her eyes out. So the makeup was in full-force, along with her best jeans, heeled boots, and a pretty black blouse. She hefted her two bags higher onto her shoulder and hurried inside, the elevator seeming to take far too long and the cog door going as slow as an old snail.
There was no one in sight when she entered the Hub Lobby. That was weird.
Jack heard the proximity alarm and went to his window to see who had just made their entrance through the cog door. It was Buffy. Thank God.
He put his coffee down and stepped out of his office, leaning on the rail of the small staircase there.
"Morning, Sunshine!" he called out cheerfully across the empty Hub. "How's the jetlag?"
Buffy half-froze and half-jumped when she heard Jack's cheerful voice. It sounded like an impossible combination of reactions, but that was the only way to describe her jerky movement as she tried not to trip over her own feet. When she'd confirmed that she'd be staying upright, she glared up at Jack. As usual, he was way too perky. Maybe this was a 'taste of her own medicine' kind of thing? Nah.
"It's kicking my ass, thanks, how're you this morning?" she called back with a sarcastic smile as she dropped her messenger bag and gym bag by her desk.
She glanced over at the unoccupied coffee station and pouted. She knew she should have stopped at that little diner on her way in. She needed her morning coffee, but no way was she messing with Ianto's Tools of Coffee Godness. She didn't want to end up in the Welsh doghouse when she hadn't even been back for twenty-four hours.
Jack laughed. "Don't look like that! He's around here somewhere. I'm sure of it! I've had coffee," he told her with a grin.
Ianto chose that moment to reappear with his good arm full of files. "Having coffee makes you sure of what?" he asked absently, carefully depositing the files on his desk in such a way that they wouldn't slide off onto the floor as soon as he let go of them.
"That you're alive and here and HI IANTO!" Buffy exclaimed brightly, hurrying over to the man who was, yet again, wearing an impeccable suit. He'd already set the files down by the time she got there, so she couldn't help with that, damn, but she was still all smiles for him.
His good arm now free, she latched onto it for a moment, clinging to the arm and doing her best impression of a five-year-old in a toy store. "Hi-Ianto-I-love-you-will-you-make-me-coffee-please-please-please?" It all came out as fast she could manage and she'd willingly blame the jetlag for her sugar-high appearance. "I didn't want to touch the Sacred Coffee God Space to get my own," she explained in slower words, her smile as sweet as candy.
Ianto looked up at Jack with a sort of 'rescue me, please!' look on his face, but Jack just grinned and sauntered back into his office. Ianto carefully extricated his arm from the Buffy Grip of Perkiness and nodded. "I think I can manage a cup of coffee," he assured her with a bit of a smile. He'd noticed that, even though she'd accepted it happily the previous night, she'd barely taken a sip. "Did you... want the usual?" he asked casually, dropping some beans into the grinder. "Or something else?"
"The usual would be amazing," she assured him, her smile dropping down a few watts to something more everyday and not-so-freaky. Watching him going about his usual coffee preparations, she could guess where the question had come from. "Sorry I didn't drink it last night. It wasn't a personal snub or anything, I was just distracted. No offense meant, I assure you. Your coffee was one of my most-missed things when I was gone; apparently there is no decent coffee in all of Cleveland. I know, I looked."
Ianto smiled almost self-consciously when she told him there was no decent coffee in all of Cleveland. He made her usual non-fat mocha, complete with sprinkles and handed it to her. He never produced these little works of caffeinated art with any sort of a flourish. He just put it in her hands, gave her a small, encouraging smile and turned to his files.
Buffy gave him a little smile and a soft, "Thanks," when he handed her the drink. She took a hesitant sip, more than willing to suffer the momentary pain of a still-hot beverage in return for the warmth that immediately began to chase away a few of the shadows clinging to her soul.
"It's good to be home," she observed with a quiet sigh before turning her attention back to her teammate. "So, what kind of lovely paperwork have you got for me? I'm sure it was just piling up somewhere in my absence."
"Erm, no," Ianto said, almost sounding uneasy, like he thought he was going to disappoint her. "I actually finished it up last night." He turned his gaze from his files to Buffy. "I thought you'd probably want to jump right back into the field," he admitted. "And that... training... stuff," he added, gesturing towards the floor and, by extension, her training room, with a flick of his eyes.
He looked back at her face for a sign as to whether he'd just fucked up with her again, for the second time in as many days.
Oh. That was... unexpected. Buffy had actually been sort of looking forward to the monotony of Torchwood paperwork, as much as it would shock anyone who knew her, because it was normal and would help her feel like she was really back at home. But... he'd been trying to help. She could see that uncertainty in his eyes, that worry that things were going to be just like the night before. And she couldn't have that now, could she?
"Best present ever," she told him with a smile, pulling on her gratitude toward his gesture to make the smile a real one. "Really. You know I'm just like Jack with the paperwork hate-age. And I actually brought some things so I could train today," she added with a nod toward her desk, where the gym bag waited for her.
Ianto glanced at the gym bag she'd pointed out, nodded and tidied the pile of folders a bit. "I'll let you know if something comes up, though," he assured her.
"Thanks," she acknowledged, smile still in place. "I'll be downstairs if anyone needs me."
And then she turned, walking to her desk to grab the bag before heading for the stairs. The moment she was out of Ianto's sight, the smile faded and the deep lines of depression returned. Her training room was just as amazingly impeccable as it had been the first time she'd seen it, when her teammates had surprised her, back before things had taken their dark turn in her life. She gazed longingly at the heavy bag, at the broad expanse of open space for her katas, but she just... couldn't. The shadows were back, and no matter how much she cradled her coffee-shaped teddy bear as she sat on a bench against the wall, they just refused to be chased away again.
Jack jogged down the steps from his office with his empty coffee cup in his hand. He deposited it on the edge of Ianto's desk and looked around.
"Where's Buffy?" he asked.
"Training room," Ianto replied.
Jack looked at him for a moment. "How was she?" he asked.
"Bit odd," Ianto admitted. He looked up at Jack. "I couldn't really put my finger on it, but there was something. Smile didn't quite reach her eyes most of the time."
Jack nodded. "I'm going to go check in with her," he said, sliding his hands into his pockets and strolling towards the stairs to the lower levels.
When he got to the training room, he leaned on the doorway. She was sitting against the far wall, staring down her coffee cup.
"You know, if you don't drink that, you're going to give him a complex," Jack told her lightly with a hint of a smile.
Buffy vaguely remembered hearing him coming, but suddenly Jack was right there and she couldn't hope to ignore him. She glanced over at him, her expression betraying the sadness permeating her thoughts, and then raised the mug to her lips. A few long drinks later and over half the coffee was gone.
There, problem solved.
She set the mug on the bench beside her, then leaned her head back against the wall. "Feels like it's been a lifetime since I was last down here," she observed in her normal voice, knowing the room had pretty great acoustics and would carry her voice to him easily.
Jack straightened up and walked over, dropping onto the bench beside her. "Seemed like an eternity to us," he agreed. "And I don't use that word lightly."
He leaned his head back against the wall himself, then turned to look at her. He gave her a playful nudge with his elbow. "We missed you," he told her plainly. "After a couple of weeks passed, I tried calling now and then... but I just got your voicemail. I didn't leave a message," he explained, so she'd know why there weren't any. "I figured you had to be busy. It couldn't have been easy cleaning up after a mess like that."
Buffy smiled sadly at that, staring at nothing against the far wall as she thought about that last bit he'd said. Finally, she nodded her agreement with the statement. "I had to deal with the families," she told him quietly, her voice sounding like a woman far older than the age of twenty-eight. "They were all so young, and their parents knew the risks, but they never thought... They were never supposed to be put in that kind of position, not yet."
Leaning forward to set her elbows on her knees, Buffy covered her face with her hands. "There aren't any more," she said cryptically, the weight of a destiny she'd never wanted pressing down on her. She felt like she was about to break. "When we did what we did... We broke something and I don't think there's any way to fix it and I just... I don't know what to do."
"There aren't any more..." Jack prompted, his voice trailing off. "Do you mean Slayers? There's aren't any more... as in, there never will be?" he asked curiously. He gazed across the room for a moment, thinking that over, trying to understand the possible ramifications. "But Slayers are mortal," he pointed out. "Once you're all gone... is there anyone to take over the fight?"
She lifted her head, her hands falling away, and shook her head. "No one like us," she said, sounding more than a little lost and... hopeless. "Slayers are the front line on the battlefield. We have Watchers and Witches and... some friends in the demon world who would rather live with humans, but..." It wasn't enough. It wouldn't be enough, even with how much things had changed since the days of the old Watcher's Council.
Jack reached over and took her hand. "And if you hadn't done what you did, could you have beaten the First?" he asked. "Could you have saved the world? And if you couldn't have, would it have mattered whether new Slayers would ever be called or not?"
Buffy clung to his hand and moved closer so she could rest her head on Jack's shoulder. "That's what makes it so... frustrating," she admitted. "There wasn't anything else we could have done. We were a dozen scared girls and a handful of seasoned fighters, and we didn't stand a chance on our own. And look what we have to show for it." Her tone was turning bitter, the years having worn her down in all the wrong places. "Save the world only to end up right back where we started, being picked off until there's no one left. It's just what the First wanted, the end of the Slayer line."
"That's what a war is," Jack said. "But somebody still has to fight, because if there's the slightest chance of holding off hell for the lucky, unknowing, unseeing masses that walk around on the surface, then it has to be done." His voice was soft, but full of conviction. He looked down at her. "Still, the casualties are never easy to take and it can be hard not to let them break you."
Buffy let out a deep sigh, knowing his words were true because she'd said them herself, so many years ago.
"You know, at one point, some of them actually tried arguing that this was all my fault to get me to stay," she said in a quiet voice tinged with sadness. "It's Buffy's fault, it was her idea, she should stick around to help clean up the mess and figure out how to fix it."
Jack pulled back a bit to get a proper look at her, a slightly horrified expression on his face. "Your fault?" he said. "How could it possibly be your fault?"
Buffy gave Jack a one-shouldered shrug, the weariness of her years of battle showing clearly in the apathetic gesture. "Everything usually ended up being my fault at some point or other, where someone was concerned," she explained. "I was the oldest, the one in charge, even if most of my days were spent behind a desk. I made the decisions, so I was crucified for them. Just seemed natural, I guess, to continue the trend."
He gave her hand a squeeze. "All the more reason to stick with Torchwood," he told her lightly. "Around here, everything's my fault," he joked, giving her a little nudge with his shoulder.
Buffy returned the nudge with a playful smirk. "Why do you I think I took that job offer?" she teased. "It wasn't your dashing good looks, I'll tell you, or that sex-charm you ooze all over the place, because I seem to remember the both of us being taken."
Jack looked at her with mock horror. "I do not 'ooze'," he objected. He grinned. "But I'm pretty sure I was told that it was entirely the thrall," he reminded her. "And then you made Ianto say it, and that was just hot."
Buffy raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm gonna tell Ianto you said that," she informed him with complete seriousness. "And then you'll never hear that word outta his mouth again. Pity, what with those lovely Welsh vowels and all..."
Teasing was part of Torchwood training.
Jack raised an eyebrow at her, accepting the challenge. "He knows that I thought it was hot. In fact, I doubt I could ever say anything that would surprise him, so I don't know what telling on me is going to accomplish!" he pointed out.
Buffy just stared at Jack for a moment, then reached up to poke his cheek with her finger. "You are incorrigible," she designated, then settled back against him and his shoulder. "And we wouldn't have you any other way."
"That's a relief," he said with a smile. He leaned his head back against the wall before turning to look down at Buffy again. "Listen," he said more seriously. "Whatever was said back there... I hope you didn't take it to heart. All joking aside, I really don't want to have to go over there."
Buffy just smiled and chuckled quietly. "No offense, Jack, but between the Mini Slayers, the Witches, and our fully-trained Watchers, if you went over there, you'd probably get your ass handed to you," she said a bit more cheerily. "But the sentiment is very appreciated."
"Well, that's the beauty if being me," he said. "You can get your ass handed to you and then shock the hell out of everyone by getting up and handing it back," he told her with a wink.
"Oh, so that's the beauty of you," she said in her best sarcastically ditzy tone. "I thought it was that ego big enough to need its own annex. My mistake."
"Well," he said with a wave. "That has its fans and its detractors," he admitted. "The parlour trick is almost always a hit."
Buffy snorted and shook her head at him. "If I couldn't die, I wouldn't call it a 'parlour trick'," she commented with amusement. "But then, I've only done the whole back-to-life thing a few times, so I'm not exactly an expert, like some people."
Jack leaned towards her a bit. "I used to do it in a sideshow," he told her conspiratorially. "Shot myself in the head and got up after to bow for the applause. Three shows a night."
Buffy blinked at him for a moment. "Were you bored?" she questioned, an incredulous expression on her face.
"No," Jack said. "I was sent to investigate rumours of this... supernatural traveling show that was said to steal the last breath of the people who went to see them." He shrugged. "I suppose, back then, I used to sorta hope that if I shot myself enough times I might not come back, eventually." He looked at Buffy again. "I know that'll never happen, now. I can't die. Not ever. Not from anything."
There was no expression on her face as Buffy took in those words, words that, if applied to herself, would be soul-crushing. Unable to die. Unable to ever return to the peace and warmth of heaven. It was too horrible to imagine, and yet here was Jack, living it.
There was nothing to say. No words could ever ease the pain that had been experience to reach that conclusion. So Buffy did the only thing she could and slid her arms around Jack, hugging him without squeezing too much. He might be all immortal and whatnot, but she figured a few Slayer-broken ribs wouldn't exactly make his day.
He hugged her back. "Don't feel bad for me," he said. "I don't regret nearly as much as I used to. I've had the chance to meet a lot of people - people that are important to me - that I never would have met if I'd only lived one lifetime. That's something I can take some solace in." He released his hold on her. "Speaking of which, why don't we go see our resident Coffee God before I go into caffeine withdrawal," he suggested with a grin. "I've only had two cups of coffee this morning, you know."
A swirling mass of light, energy, and magic opened in the empty tourist’s office, loose papers fluttering around the room, as a man clad in black leather stepped nimbly through the portal. He had to take a moment to gather his bearings as the light blipped out behind him, taking the mystical wind with it, leaving an unnatural hush in the room. He didn’t particularly enjoy traveling by portal, it would actually suffice to say he despised it was a passion, the sensation was similar to going through the washing machine on the rinse cycle, but it had become the standard NC mode of emergency travel and while he still distrusted magic, this occasion in his opinion qualified as an emergency.
Taking a deep, unneeded breath he took in his surroundings with a frown. He had had Malavika, the most senior witch on his team, send him to the address he had been given, but this wasn’t anything like he was expecting. If he had to wait out the remaining daylight hours in this little hole in the wall he would be having a few strong and colorful words with the young Wicca when he got back to India.
AN: Don't hate us! Also, reviews encourage us to write faster. Seriously, we get all giddy and the fingers fly...