Torchwood/Dr Who - fic - The Torchwood Girls, Part 3, Nine/Rose/Jack, Joan, PG(final version)
Title - The Torchwood Girls, Part 3 (final version)
Author - laurab1
Characters/Pairings - Jack, Joan Redfern, OCs, Nine/Rose/Jack
Rating - PG
Length - approx 1350 words
Spoilers - TW: general series, DW: to 3.11-13
Summary - In Jack's office, reading document after document, she signs her life over to Torchwood.
Disclaimer - alas, not all of these people are mine
Feedback is loved and appreciated :) Enjoy!
Final versions:
Part 1 Part 2
The Torchwood Girls
by Laura
Part 3
Joan returns to the hall. Captain Harkness smiles at her in greeting, asking, “All set?”
“Yes, I have written my letter. Now, will you assist me in finishing sending the boys home?”
“Of course.” She gets another smile.
***
That done, Joan goes to her rooms and begins to pack up her belongings. There are other practical matters to consider, such as where is she going to live? He has mentioned that Torchwood is in Cardiff, but even if he has been making plans for a team consisting purely of women, it does not appear that the Captain has thought much further ahead than employing her.
That itself seems to have been almost a spur of the moment consideration.
Yet again, Joan wonders if she is doing the right thing. She’s pulled out of her thoughts by a knock on the door. It’s Captain Harkness and Michael.
“Joan, we’re going to back to Norwich, now. We’ll collect you tomorrow morning, and then head back to Cardiff on the train, all right?”
“Fine, Captain. Can I just ask, have you thought about accommodations for me?”
“Ah.” He looks away. “There are rooms in the Hub, though,” he says, returning his eyes to her, guilt in them. “Later, we can buy you a house.”
“Very good, Captain. I shall see you gentlemen tomorrow, then. Goodbye.”
“Call me Jack, please. Goodbye, Joan.” He smiles his persuasive smile at her again, and they leave.
***
November the 13th, in what is basically a cave, Joan meets the rest of Jack’s men.
Men who this time next year may not still be alive.
Other than Michael Davies, an expert at obtaining information, there is Ioan Jones, an expert with machinery, Dr Andrew Smith and Simon Reynolds, an expert at communication with aliens. In Jack’s office, reading document after document, she signs her life over to Torchwood.
There’s the founding report, written in 1879 by Queen Victoria herself. Well, that may answer the question of who Torchwood is responsible to. Joan reads the story of Prince Albert’s love for the Torchwood Estate, a werewolf which was actually an alien and the monks who worshipped it, a light chamber posing as a telescope, the Koh-i-Noor diamond and mistletoe.
And the Doctor and Rose, banished from the Empire:
‘...I don't know what they are, the two of them, or where they're from, but I know that they consort with stars, and magic, and think it fun. But their world is steeped in terror and blasphemy and death, and I will not allow it. They were told to leave these shores, and reflect -- I hope -- on how they managed to stray so far from all that is good. And how much longer they will survive this terrible life...’
Finally, there’s the section which established Torchwood:
‘...Although we may not speak of these events in public, they'll not be forgotten. The sacrifice of Sir Robert McLeish, the ingenuity of his father; they will live on. I have seen that Great Britain has enemies beyond imagination, and we must defend our borders on all sides. I propose an institute to investigate these strange happenings, and to fight them. I would call it Torchwood. The Torchwood Institute. And if this Doctor should return, he should beware. Because Torchwood will be waiting.’
“You lied to me, Jack,” Joan says, placing the report on his desk and looking him straight in the eye.
“I told you what you wanted to hear,” he tells her.
“No, Jack, you lied to me.” She’s adamant.
“I lie to pretty much everyone, Joan. You’re gonna have to do the same.”
“Even the Doctor? Did you lie to him?”
“Hell, no.” He smiles, just a little. “I could never get anything past him. He always saw right through me.”
“Neither will you get anything past me.” Joan is very serious about this.
“I can see that, now.” Jack looks a little guilty.
She’s caught him out. “Good,” she says, satisfied. It’s only then, when he’s revealed those few facts, that his absence from John’s journal, currently sitting on the desk, occurs to her. “Jack, you told me that you travelled with the Doctor. But he does not talk of you in the journal, and I cannot believe that he could purposefully forget someone like you. No-one could.” Joan is surprised at her own forwardness, but Jack makes no mention of it.
He just pulls some papers from a drawer and places them on the desk. “He didn’t, Joan,” he says, apparently happily, “not completely. One of the maids gave me some pages he’d torn out, and hidden away. Pages with me on them, and just how much the three of us - him, Rose and I - meant to each other.”
Oh. “May I see?” She wants to understand.
“They’re kinda... intimate, Joan.”
He’s almost blushing, and even in the very short time she’s known him, Joan has seen enough to suspect that this man hardly ever blushes. “Would you prefer to keep them to yourself, then, Jack?” she asks, smiling gently.
“Yes, please.” He then continues, “They’re all I’ve got of him, other than my key, and this place.”
“Surely you have your memories, as well?”
“I guess,” he says, but he doesn’t sound entirely convinced.
“Why are you in this place, if it was set up to be his... enemy?” It makes no sense, if he’s implying what she thinks he is.
Putting the pieces of paper back in his drawer, Jack takes a breath before he speaks again: “Joan, even though he’s a nine hundred year old alien, he still seems like a kid, doesn’t he?”
Nine hundred years? “Yes, very much so. He’s a little like Peter Pan.”
“Yeah. I’d agree with that.” He grins, before turning serious again. “I don’t want to hurt him. But being here, it’s my best chance of meeting him again. See, Cardiff has a... rift, in space and time, and we’re right on top of it. The TARDIS occasionally needs to stop here, and charge up on the energy from the rift, like petrol going into a car. I’ll have to avoid him in 2005, ‘cause Rose and Mickey and I will be with him and crossing your own time line just brings a hell of a lot of trouble. Timothy Latimer and someone else both told me that I’ll meet the Doctor again in 2008. So here I am, waiting for him, and toeing the party line.” Jack sighs, apparently exhausted.
Joan understood only some of what he just revealed, but two things did stand out. She does not think he will tell her just why he is waiting for the Doctor, so she just asks, ”How on Earth do you possibly expect to still be alive, that far in the future, Jack?”
“I’ll tell you that when you’ve seen a little trick I can do.” He laughs, but it’s almost bitter. Maybe she got the answer to the question she didn’t ask, as well. “Right now, I need you to sign something else.” He passes her a document bearing a portcullis. “Joan, this job involves dealing with very sensitive information, and we’re all bound by this new Official Secrets Act. You must sign this statement to say that you agree to abide by the restrictions of the Act.”
Joan carefully reads the statement, signs it and passes it back to Jack.
“Done! I’ll get Michael to file that lot later. Now, next, I would normally teach a new recruit how to shoot. But I’m assuming you’d rather not know how to do that?”
“No, Jack.” She pauses, before continuing, “I lost my husband to bullets at Spion Kop.”
“I’m so sorry, Joan. But that’s fine.” He rises from his chair. “We’ll find you something that just incapacitates. We do need to go to the firing range, though, I’m afraid. All our weapons are locked away down there.”
“Very well. But can we do this as quickly as possible? I do not wish to spend any more time with guns than is absolutely necessary.” She rises from her own chair.
“Of course, ma’am. C’mon, let’s go.”
crosspost:
torch_wood
torchwood_fic
dwfiction
new_who
galactic_conman
better_with_3
john_joan
Continue to final version of Part 4
Author - laurab1
Characters/Pairings - Jack, Joan Redfern, OCs, Nine/Rose/Jack
Rating - PG
Length - approx 1350 words
Spoilers - TW: general series, DW: to 3.11-13
Summary - In Jack's office, reading document after document, she signs her life over to Torchwood.
Disclaimer - alas, not all of these people are mine
Feedback is loved and appreciated :) Enjoy!
Final versions:
Part 1 Part 2
The Torchwood Girls
by Laura
Part 3
Joan returns to the hall. Captain Harkness smiles at her in greeting, asking, “All set?”
“Yes, I have written my letter. Now, will you assist me in finishing sending the boys home?”
“Of course.” She gets another smile.
***
That done, Joan goes to her rooms and begins to pack up her belongings. There are other practical matters to consider, such as where is she going to live? He has mentioned that Torchwood is in Cardiff, but even if he has been making plans for a team consisting purely of women, it does not appear that the Captain has thought much further ahead than employing her.
That itself seems to have been almost a spur of the moment consideration.
Yet again, Joan wonders if she is doing the right thing. She’s pulled out of her thoughts by a knock on the door. It’s Captain Harkness and Michael.
“Joan, we’re going to back to Norwich, now. We’ll collect you tomorrow morning, and then head back to Cardiff on the train, all right?”
“Fine, Captain. Can I just ask, have you thought about accommodations for me?”
“Ah.” He looks away. “There are rooms in the Hub, though,” he says, returning his eyes to her, guilt in them. “Later, we can buy you a house.”
“Very good, Captain. I shall see you gentlemen tomorrow, then. Goodbye.”
“Call me Jack, please. Goodbye, Joan.” He smiles his persuasive smile at her again, and they leave.
***
November the 13th, in what is basically a cave, Joan meets the rest of Jack’s men.
Men who this time next year may not still be alive.
Other than Michael Davies, an expert at obtaining information, there is Ioan Jones, an expert with machinery, Dr Andrew Smith and Simon Reynolds, an expert at communication with aliens. In Jack’s office, reading document after document, she signs her life over to Torchwood.
There’s the founding report, written in 1879 by Queen Victoria herself. Well, that may answer the question of who Torchwood is responsible to. Joan reads the story of Prince Albert’s love for the Torchwood Estate, a werewolf which was actually an alien and the monks who worshipped it, a light chamber posing as a telescope, the Koh-i-Noor diamond and mistletoe.
And the Doctor and Rose, banished from the Empire:
‘...I don't know what they are, the two of them, or where they're from, but I know that they consort with stars, and magic, and think it fun. But their world is steeped in terror and blasphemy and death, and I will not allow it. They were told to leave these shores, and reflect -- I hope -- on how they managed to stray so far from all that is good. And how much longer they will survive this terrible life...’
Finally, there’s the section which established Torchwood:
‘...Although we may not speak of these events in public, they'll not be forgotten. The sacrifice of Sir Robert McLeish, the ingenuity of his father; they will live on. I have seen that Great Britain has enemies beyond imagination, and we must defend our borders on all sides. I propose an institute to investigate these strange happenings, and to fight them. I would call it Torchwood. The Torchwood Institute. And if this Doctor should return, he should beware. Because Torchwood will be waiting.’
“You lied to me, Jack,” Joan says, placing the report on his desk and looking him straight in the eye.
“I told you what you wanted to hear,” he tells her.
“No, Jack, you lied to me.” She’s adamant.
“I lie to pretty much everyone, Joan. You’re gonna have to do the same.”
“Even the Doctor? Did you lie to him?”
“Hell, no.” He smiles, just a little. “I could never get anything past him. He always saw right through me.”
“Neither will you get anything past me.” Joan is very serious about this.
“I can see that, now.” Jack looks a little guilty.
She’s caught him out. “Good,” she says, satisfied. It’s only then, when he’s revealed those few facts, that his absence from John’s journal, currently sitting on the desk, occurs to her. “Jack, you told me that you travelled with the Doctor. But he does not talk of you in the journal, and I cannot believe that he could purposefully forget someone like you. No-one could.” Joan is surprised at her own forwardness, but Jack makes no mention of it.
He just pulls some papers from a drawer and places them on the desk. “He didn’t, Joan,” he says, apparently happily, “not completely. One of the maids gave me some pages he’d torn out, and hidden away. Pages with me on them, and just how much the three of us - him, Rose and I - meant to each other.”
Oh. “May I see?” She wants to understand.
“They’re kinda... intimate, Joan.”
He’s almost blushing, and even in the very short time she’s known him, Joan has seen enough to suspect that this man hardly ever blushes. “Would you prefer to keep them to yourself, then, Jack?” she asks, smiling gently.
“Yes, please.” He then continues, “They’re all I’ve got of him, other than my key, and this place.”
“Surely you have your memories, as well?”
“I guess,” he says, but he doesn’t sound entirely convinced.
“Why are you in this place, if it was set up to be his... enemy?” It makes no sense, if he’s implying what she thinks he is.
Putting the pieces of paper back in his drawer, Jack takes a breath before he speaks again: “Joan, even though he’s a nine hundred year old alien, he still seems like a kid, doesn’t he?”
Nine hundred years? “Yes, very much so. He’s a little like Peter Pan.”
“Yeah. I’d agree with that.” He grins, before turning serious again. “I don’t want to hurt him. But being here, it’s my best chance of meeting him again. See, Cardiff has a... rift, in space and time, and we’re right on top of it. The TARDIS occasionally needs to stop here, and charge up on the energy from the rift, like petrol going into a car. I’ll have to avoid him in 2005, ‘cause Rose and Mickey and I will be with him and crossing your own time line just brings a hell of a lot of trouble. Timothy Latimer and someone else both told me that I’ll meet the Doctor again in 2008. So here I am, waiting for him, and toeing the party line.” Jack sighs, apparently exhausted.
Joan understood only some of what he just revealed, but two things did stand out. She does not think he will tell her just why he is waiting for the Doctor, so she just asks, ”How on Earth do you possibly expect to still be alive, that far in the future, Jack?”
“I’ll tell you that when you’ve seen a little trick I can do.” He laughs, but it’s almost bitter. Maybe she got the answer to the question she didn’t ask, as well. “Right now, I need you to sign something else.” He passes her a document bearing a portcullis. “Joan, this job involves dealing with very sensitive information, and we’re all bound by this new Official Secrets Act. You must sign this statement to say that you agree to abide by the restrictions of the Act.”
Joan carefully reads the statement, signs it and passes it back to Jack.
“Done! I’ll get Michael to file that lot later. Now, next, I would normally teach a new recruit how to shoot. But I’m assuming you’d rather not know how to do that?”
“No, Jack.” She pauses, before continuing, “I lost my husband to bullets at Spion Kop.”
“I’m so sorry, Joan. But that’s fine.” He rises from his chair. “We’ll find you something that just incapacitates. We do need to go to the firing range, though, I’m afraid. All our weapons are locked away down there.”
“Very well. But can we do this as quickly as possible? I do not wish to spend any more time with guns than is absolutely necessary.” She rises from her own chair.
“Of course, ma’am. C’mon, let’s go.”
crosspost:
torch_wood
torchwood_fic
dwfiction
new_who
galactic_conman
better_with_3
john_joan
Continue to final version of Part 4