Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the Who-verse. That honour belongs to RTD and the mighty and glorious BBC.

A/N: Strictly speaking this is canon and set in the days preceding CoE but it does refer to events mentioned in Purpose In All Things. Major thanks go to Orion Lyoness for her thoughtful insights and suggestions, being my most fabulous beta, and most definitely raising the game!

It might be a good day to ditch school, Katie Thompson contemplated, as she drew back her thick, dark blue curtains and perused the grey slate roofs of Penarth. It was the first day in three weeks that the morning sky was not leaden with heavy clouds of gunmetal grey, and the panes of glass were not fogged with mizzling rain. She hated that sort of rain. It didn't seem to fall but rather pervaded the air, clinging to clothes and hair, as if you were walking inside a rain cloud. Besides, it did really nasty things to her hair!

Today though, white wispy clouds scudded high up across a sky of palest blue and the sun, still misty from the dawn, was slowly clearing the horizon of rooftops. All in all, a nice day. Add to that the fact that it was Wednesday which meant double maths, double chemistry and two hours on a muddy hockey pitch getting her ankles smashed by sticks of wood, and Katie's mind was made up.

Decision made, Katie sat at her dressing table with renewed enthusiasm for the day and stared at herself critically in the mirror. Her hair, a becoming shade of pale copper, needed straightening. Again. Every morning she would spend twenty minutes, ceramic straighteners in hand, taming her unfortunately kinked hair (her mother kindly described it as wavy) into a glossy, sleek mane. By the time she reached the bus stop, all her hard work would be undone, the rain reducing the beautiful bob into a tangled halo of frizz. At least today there was some chance she might keep her style long enough to catch the bus into town.

She applied a touch of foundation to cover the smattering of freckles sprinkled across her cheeks and nose. As far as her mother was concerned, it was to protect her skin from the sun; but for her, masking her imperfections was infinitely more important. A touch of eyeliner, a dab of lip-gloss and she was done. Any more and she might draw the attention of her mother's vivid emerald eyes with their uncanny ability to detect mascara at a hundred paces. As she tripped down the stairs, Katie tried to keep her face subdued, a suitable expression for a Wednesday at St Cyres School.

As it happened she needn't have worried. Her mother never raised her eyes from the letter she was reading. Judging by the coarse brown envelope discarded on the table and the vague pink hue visible as the morning sun shone through the surface of the paper, it was a bill. Overdue on payment just like the last two which had landed on the doormat. Katie noticed her mother's tense expression, the expression she seemed to wear all the time these days, but in her hurry to be out of the door, into the sunshine, she barely stopped to lean over and kiss the pale, set cheek.

"Bye, mam," she called carelessly, as she pushed open the back door and stepped into the waiting sunlight.

She heard an answering call of farewell, almost startled in tone, but didn't pause. After all, wouldn't she be back in a few hours, ready to listen to her mother's woes?

At the end of the road, out of eyesight of the house, Katie turned left, away from the main road that led up to St Cyres and the bus stop into town. Impulsively, enjoying the feel of the sun on her skin, she decided to walk and instead made her way through the myriad of small residential roads down towards the centre of Penarth. She knew exactly where she would go: somewhere quiet to read her book in peace, enjoy the sunshine, and escape the attentions of Mellie Brown and her cronies.

Their bullying had begun at the start of the summer term. Katie didn't know what she had done to draw Mellie's displeasure, but the bruises across the tops of her arms and on her shins, even now hidden by some of the same foundation which hid the freckles, were testament to Mellie's ongoing fascination with causing her pain.

Just for today she was going to enjoy herself, Katie decided. Forget Mellie, forget the worry on her mam's face, and most of all forget the fact that her period was over a week late.

Twenty minutes later Katie reached the Rectory Road gates of Alexandra Park. It was still early enough that there was only the occasional pensioner out for their morning constitutional to disturb the quiet. Katie knew that by mid-morning the park would be crowded, filled with young mothers and their children, office workers taking the chance to catch a few rays whilst drinking their morning coffee and stealing a sneaky cigarette, and the inevitable groups of truant teenagers ditching class. She knew that strictly speaking she should consider herself one of the latter group but somehow she didn't. It wasn't school she was ditching today, it was life itself.

Passing through the ornate, finial-topped, cast iron gates, their vivid blue paint mirroring the sky above, Katie followed the path down the hill, past profusions of pink, white and lilac blooms that artfully cascaded out over the edges of neat, well-tended flowerbeds and immaculate topiary bushes that always reminded Katie of illustrations of some strange alien mushrooms she had once seen in a comic as a child. Today she barely spared them a glance. She was headed to the wooded area on the south side of park known locally as the Dingle, an area of the natural landscape that had survived the laying out of the formal gardens in the early 1900s. There, beneath the canopy of oaks, with the stream running alongside, she would find peace, at least for a little while.

Entering the Dingle, Katie glanced around to make sure she was unobserved, then left the footpath, pushing her way through the undergrowth until she found her sanctuary, a small glen, out of sight of the footpath, where the canopy above was broken, allowing the morning sunlight to reach the long grass below. Despite the previous day's rain, the ground had quickly dried in the now fierce morning sunshine.

With a relieved smile, Katie dropped her school bag on the ground and sat beside it, reaching inside for her book.

She had just turned over the second page, when her attention was caught by a soft noise in front of her. A rustling whisper, like the movement of feet through crisp autumn leaves. Allowing the book to fall into her lap, she raised her head and looked in direction of the sound.

I've never see the sun so bright, was Katie's last thought as she died.

PC Andy Davidson shifted from one foot to the other, waiting by the park entrance for Torchwood to arrive. He unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck where his short brown hair, in need of a trim, was tickling the collar of his police issue shirt, unbearably hot in the morning sun.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was in truth no more than ten minutes after making the call, a black SUV pulled up on the opposite side of the road, Torchwood embossed discretely along the wings, darkened windows disguising its occupants. Who would they have sent this time, Andy wondered? Captain Jack Harkness, the dashing American with a kilowatt smile and a manner of address which always made Andy feel vaguely inferior and stupid? Or maybe Ianto Jones, whose exterior was pure reserved suited scholar but who clearly had some hidden depths, given that he was hanging around with Jack and Gwen? But no. The door opened and he was greeted by the familiar smile of Gwen Cooper, his ex-colleague. She climbed down from the SUV wearing what Andy had now come to regard as her Torchwood uniform: close fitting, black denim jeans; short, practical black, low-heeled boots; a black, semi-tailored leather jacket; and an emerald-green top with a plunging neckline. Andy had noticed that the neckline was always plunging, although the colour changed on a daily basis. He idly wondered if Rhys minded, or if Jack and Ianto even noticed.

Gwen freed a number of tendrils of her shoulder length black hair from the collar of her jacket as she turned to face him, her face lighting up with pleasure as she caught sight of the tall, lanky silhouette of her friend. Her smile was infectious and he returned it easily, about to call out her name.

She held up a finger, staying his greeting, reaching back into the SUV to pull out a large, metal case from the passenger seat. The metal case was almost as much a part of her uniform as her leather jacket, always accompanying her whenever Andy called for her help. Once Andy had asked what the case contained but Gwen had merely shaken her head and brushed aside his enquiry. Even though he was now privy to Torchwood's existence and its remit, Jack and his team were still tight-lipped about its resources. Andy had concluded that the case contained alien tech and that he was safer not knowing about such things. Even so he felt a quiver of curiosity as Gwen manoeuvred the case out of the SUV.

Locking the car, Gwen turned and strode across to him, her smile broadening with every step.

"Hey Andy," she said cheerily, as she reached his side. "What have you got for me?"

Andy grinned in greeting.

"If I knew what I had, I wouldn't be calling you now, would I?" he quipped.

"Not the usual Penarth drunkard in a flowerbed then, swearing he's been abducted by aliens?"

"Er, no," Andy said, his expression and voice turning sombre. "A body. A young girl. Fifteen. According to her bus pass her name is Katie Thompson, a pupil at St. Cyres." He paused, shaking his head in a gesture of disbelief. "I've never seen anything like it, Gwen."

"OK. You better take me to the body then," Gwen said, her voice immediately business-like.

Andy turned and led her into the park, away from the well-used scenic paths which wound down towards the esplanade. Instead he took her on a circuitous route to a secluded copse, bounded on three sides by high wild bushes and undergrowth. The fourth side, a mass of trampled long grass and ground-hugging vegetation, was sealed off with blue and while crime scene tape, delineating the area of Katie Thompson's demise.

A young female PC, looking distinctly green around the gills, stood just to one side of the trunk of a tall oak tree, guarding the entrance to the copse, clearly trying to avoid having to look inside. She started nervously as Andy and Gwen approached, staring with unabashed curiosity at Gwen's unexpected presence.

"Don't worry, Amy, love," Andy called, seeing her white face. "It's Torchwood. You'll get use to them." He turned to Gwen and added under his breath. "PC Amy Kettering. First day on the job, straight out of training."

Gwen gave an imperceptible nod and turned on her most non-threatening smile.

"Hello," she said kindly to PC Kettering. "Gwen Cooper. Not exactly what you need on your first day, is it? Why don't you go get a cup of tea? Andy and I will deal with it from here."

PC Kettering managed a faint smile and gave a grateful nod. Turning on her heel, she walked as quickly as dignity would allow, away from the scene.

Gwen and Andy rounded the tree trunk, ducking under the crime scene tape. Gwen halted and surveyed the copse, taking in the secluded location, the single point of access, the orientation of the trees and bushes, all conspiring to turn the copse into a suntrap. In the centre was the body of Katie Thompson. A typical Penarth teenager ditching school for a day in the sun, Gwen concluded, taking in the school uniform and discarded school bag at her feet. There were no signs of a struggle. A book lay open on her lap, as if she had fallen asleep whilst reading.

Gwen crossed to the body and set down the metal case. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a pair of purple nitrile gloves, pulling them on with a satisfying snap. Leaning over she gently closed the book with one finger so she could see the title. The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson. Gwen gave a shudder. Suzie's book of choice. Still, it wasn't the usual reading fare of your average fifteen year old school girl.

"Who found the body?" Gwen asked as she stood up. "It's pretty isolated here, especially for the centre of Penarth."

"A dog walker, or rather her dog. The woman followed her dog into the undergrowth when he ran off, got as far as the tree there, saw the body and exited stage left calling me as she went. She said she was afraid of hanging around, in case the man who did it came back."

Gwen frowned. Leaving the scene of a dead body was hardly the action of an innocent witness, especially not one who had not left any any means of contact.

"And you're not considering her as a suspect?"

"Hardly," Andy explained with an embarrassed smile. "Her name is Edith Backhouse. She's eighty-eight years old and she lives next to my mam, just the other side of the park. That's why she called me rather than ringing 999." He ducked his head, looking suddenly like a boy caught out. "I do her garden."

Gwen couldn't help smiling. She wondered if there was a man in the world as genuinely nice as Andy. All in all she doubted it.

Recalling the business in hand, Gwen moved around to Katie's head. Crouching down she carefully brushed the red hair away from Katie's face. With a sharp intake of breath, she decided Andy was right. She'd never seen anything like it either.

At first glance the girl looked as if she had been boiled alive. The features of her face were reddened and bloated, almost unrecognisable as human. Great swathes of skin across her neck and upper chest, visible in the v-neck of her open school shirt, were peeling away. Here and there, across the bridge of her nose and on her cheeks there were irregular, mottled growths, each a patchwork of light and dark brown pigmentation, shaded almost to black in places and threaded through with red, spider-like veins. In two or three places, the growths appeared to have merged to form larger disfiguring masses, pulling the reddened skin around them taut. Glancing down, Gwen saw similar growths speckling the skin of Katie's arms, although here the growths seemed smaller, and less pronounced.

Focussing on Katie's face, Gwen found her eyes were opaque, white orbs, just visible between the swollen red flesh of her eyelids. Looking more closely, Gwen could see a hint of green beneath the white cloudiness. Whatever expression had been on Katie's face when she died had been lost underneath the swelling and growths, but from her relaxed sitting position Gwen concluded that she had either been taken by surprise and had not had time to react, or she had not felt threatened by whomever or whatever had attacked her.

And something had attacked Katie Thompson. Something not human, something from the Rift. Another monster for them to fight.

Gwen shivered despite the heat. There were only three of them now. Only three of them to keep the monsters at bay. And there were so many monsters. Gwen's shoulders slumped a fraction. Who were they kidding? They didn't stand a chance.

"How long has she been dead?" Andy interrupted her thoughts, more to break the silence than in expectation of a real answer.

"Not long," she replied briskly, trying not to let Andy see how defeated she felt. "Probably no more than an hour, maybe two. I won't know for sure till we get her back to the lab and do a proper PM."

"Whoa, no way," Andy objected, his voice strident. He took a step, effectively placing himself between Gwen and Katie, denying her access. "This is a police matter. She has to go the morgue."

Gwen shot Andy an irritated glance. For all his eagerness to be involved in the Torchwood roller-coaster, sometimes he was stubbornly conservative in his attitudes.

"We're not talking your average mugging gone wrong here, Andy," Gwen responded finally, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Whatever did this probably came through the Rift and we need to know what the hell we're dealing with. Otherwise, God knows how many other Katie Thompson's we'll find lying around Cardiff doing their best impression of a cooked mutant lobster."

"I'm not covering up a dead body for you, Gwen," Andy retorted. "She goes to the morgue." He stared at her meaningfully. "If you choose to steal her from there, there is nothing I can do to stop you."

Despite her irritation, Gwen found herself smiling. It wouldn't be the first time, and she was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last, that Torchwood had indulged in a bout of bodysnatching.

"All right," she agreed, nodding. "She goes to the morgue. Can I at least take some readings so I have something to be going on?"

"Be my guest," Andy replied, taking a step back to allow her unrestricted access to Katie's body.

Gwen reached across to the metal case and opened it, letting the metal lid fall back with a clunk. Reaching inside she pulled out what looked to Andy like a chunky black PDA. Holding it in one hand, she changed the settings, using a touchscreen on the front. Andy heard a tiny buzz as the machine came to life. Almost immediately Gwen began to run the machine up and down Katie's body in long smooth strokes, a centimetre above the skin and clothes. At her head and arms, Gwen adjusted the settings still further and used a series of shorter sweeps of the instrument to home in on two or three of the mottled growths.

"Are you allowed to tell me what that is?" Andy probed curiously. So far Gwen had been very secretive of Torchwood tech, always deflecting his questions with practised ease. This time however she broke off from collecting data and looked at him appraisingly, as if trying to weigh up whether he was capable of keeping another Torchwood secret.

"It's a Bekaran deep tissue scanner," she said finally. "It's a bit like a cross between an x-ray and an ultrasound. Lets us look inside a body in more detail than current Earth technology allows." She held up the scanner so Andy could see the details of Katie's tissues on the small screen. Probably to a qualified medic the view would be exciting and amazing, but to him it just looked like a mish-mash of coloured blobs.

"We've got a larger version back at the Hub," Gwen explained. "This is a portable version that Owen and Tosh had perfected, before..." Her voice caught and she swallowed abruptly. Even now, nearly a year after that terrible night of loss, the pain of Tosh and Owen's deaths was almost as raw as the morning of the first day.

Andy put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed sympathetically, acknowledging her grief. Gwen lifted her hand to cover his, giving him a sad smile.

After one awkward moment she continued, her voice strong and business-like once more.

"Anyway, that's the scans complete. I'll get this data back to the Hub and start analysing it. Can you give me a ring to let me know when the body arrives at the morgue?"

Before Andy could answer, their attention was diverted by a shrill ringing noise, emanating from the scanner still held securely in Gwen's hand and directed in the general direction of Katie's face.

"What's that?" Andy asked sharply, conscious that, when dealing with Torchwood, alarms were rarely good things.

Gwen brought the scanner up to read the display which was now flashing a text message in red.

"OK, that is officially weird," Gwen said after a moment, laying the Bekaran scanner down on the grass. Rummaging in the metal case for a second piece of equipment, she pulled out another PDA-like scanner. She ran the new scanner quickly over the body, frowning briefly at the results.

"This is the scanner we use to detect Rift energy," she explained. "Everything that comes through the Rift carries an energy signature. Anything they come into contact with picks up a trace of that Rift energy. But Katie's levels are way too high for casual contact. It's almost as if she's been transported through the Rift and then returned."

Andy nodded in a manner he hoped would convince Gwen he understood what the hell she was talking about.

"Is that why the Bekaran deep tissue thingy alarmed?" he asked, figuring it was in his best interests to stick to safer ground. "Rift energy?"

Gwen finished scanning Katie's body and rocked back, resting on her heels.

"No. The scanner has already worked out what caused the main body of tissue damage on Katie's face. They are radiation burns, and I mean massive ones. Ground zero type. That is what the scanner was warning us about. That there may be a radioactive threat in the vicinity."

Andy took a deliberate step backwards, away from Katie and Gwen, his face full of fear.

"Radiation? Are we safe?" Gwen could tell he was trying to be professional, but the waver in his question gave the game away. She gave him a gentle smile.

"It's fine. Do you think I'd be sitting here calmly if there was enough radiation about to do that?" She indicated Katie's peeling skin. "The other thing the Rift scanner does is detect all forms of radiation, terrestrial and otherwise. It's not detecting any residual radiation on Katie's body, other than the Rift energy. Nothing above the usual Penarth background levels." Gwen got to her feet, ignoring Andy's proffered hand and brushed down the knees of her jeans, dislodging a few stray strands of cut grass clinging to the denim.

"I'm sorry, Andy, but I think what we have here is a victim of the Rift. Nothing more. It looks like she got pulled through the Rift where she was exposed to massive amounts of radiation, deposited back here. It won't be the first time, people disappear in the Rift all the time. One of the unpublicised dangers of living in Cardiff."

Andy shook his head in denial.

"No, I'm not buying it," he retorted angrily. "If she got pulled through the Rift and then returned, how do you explain the book on her lap?"

Gwen looked at him sympathetically. People, even Andy who knew something of Torchwood, just didn't understand that the Rift defied explanation. Very quickly after joining Torchwood she had come to realise that where the Rift was involved, anything was possible and indeed likely.

"Look. I'll get Jack and Ianto to take a look at the readings when I get back to the Hub and see if there's anything I've missed. If I find anything, I'll let you know."

It wouldn't satisfy Andy, but there was nothing else she could do.

"I'll leave you to it," she continued, before he had chance to protest. "See you later."

Andy didn't reply, instead just raising a hand in a mute gesture of dismissal. Gwen sighed. She didn't like brushing him, or Katie Thompson, off. The young girl had died, horribly, and, which ever way you looked at it, the Rift, and by association Torchwood, was to blame. But they were stretched so thin now, something had to give.

And today, that something was Katie Thompson.

A/N: Reviews are always welcome, in fact they make my day... Chapter 2 coming soon - Jack and Ianto angst in spades...