Chapter 6

Gwen paced the floor of the big cavern, which was now completely barren and lit only by two alien lanterns. She'd become accustomed to the hollow echoes of the cave, but now that the darkness pressed in again she once again noticed the sound of the water dripping as it seeped its way through the limestone. She also shivered slightly against the unchanged chill.

Saalenu finished lifting the heavy crates onto the floating transport. Only one remained for Belanal to rest on. All they needed now was word that the converter worked.

She and Saalenu had taken the animal specimens and released them near a natural cave opening. The cages, even the cavers' and her own confinements, had all been collapsed down and neatly stowed away in the grey crates. Unfortunately, Gwen's plan to make the call to the Institute had failed. There'd been no signal for her mobile. It was all up to Jack now.

Doug and Mike sat on the ground nearby, waiting, handcuffed together at the wrist. They'd been released when they promised not to run off and Doug had given her his private pledge that he would do his best to keep Mike in line until they got to the surface. Gwen instinctively trusted Doug, but knew he couldn't stop the other man if he were truly dead-set on flight. Cuffing Doug to Mike provided an additional assurance, if not that Doug could keep Mike in place, that he'd at least slow him down.

A noise down the passage alerted her to Zhuluss's arrival. She turned to see the alien storm across the space toward them, his every motion filled with rage and hostility.

Something's gone wrong with the ship, was her first thought. Her mind immediately turned to alternatives and how they were going to keep these people safe for nearly two weeks until their own help arrived. She waited for a few seconds. Jack would explain when he caught up. But Jack wasn't with him. "Zhuluss, where's Jack?"

At the sound of her voice, the huge alien swung his head to glare at her. fled when others came, she read a moment before the iron of his grasp closed around her arms, the sudden pain making her cry out in alarm. The wash of icy terror she felt all but blinded her to the fact that the translator had slipped from her hand and clattered to the stone floor.

oOoOo

The exertion of the run made his bruised ribcage protest. Jack tried to ignore it. He had to get to that vehicle, had to find and update Chris Bast.

Coming over a slight hill, he saw a pair of Torchwood's off-road Range Rovers in the distance. As he drew nearer, the uniformed men near them took notice, and one off them set out at a jog to meet him halfway, hand on his pistol as he came. Jack was relieved he hadn't drawn it.

When the young sergeant--Jack thought his name might have been Trent, though he'd never been formally introduced--got near enough, his eyes grew wide with recognition. "Director Harkness? They're looking for you down in the mine, sir."

"Where's Bast?" Jack gasped. Normally the short run wouldn't have winded him, but the pain in his chest was getting to him. It was all he could do not to double over right there.

"Just over the rise, sir. There's a ship--"

Jack made a curt motion to stop him. "Yeah, yeah, I've seen it. Let's go."

Sergeant Trent informed the others via radio. The alien ship wasn't disrupting line-of-sight transmission in that frequency band at least. Bast was there by the time Jack reached the vehicles.

"My god, Jack, it is you. You look like hell."

"Thanks," he answered, pouring a healthy dose of sarcasm into it. But, then again, he probably did look like hell: dirty, sweaty and damn close to dead-tired. What he wouldn't do for a shower and a long rest right about now. Jack sank wearily onto the back of the Range Rover under the open liftgate and fumbled in the pocket of his jacket still clutched in his hand for the paracetamol Gwen had stashed there when she bandaged his chest.

But Bast wasn't listening as he turned and yelled across the moor to the place where Toshiko Sato and Owen Harper presumably had the spectrographic scanner out, making a study of the ship. "Owen!" At the call, Owen dashed toward them.

"Listen to me, Bast. I need you to order a withdrawal from the mine. Get everyone out of that cave now. You got it?" Finding the phial, he snapped it open and swallowed two tablets dry, shoving the bottle back in his pocket.

Bast shook his head apologetically. "I can't do that. You missed your scheduled check-ins. How do we know you haven't been compromised?"

Frustration boiled within him, his reply hot when it came. "Oh, come on! Would you just--"

"You know the policy, Jack," Bast retorted calmly. "You wrote it." His gaze dropped to the .38. "And I'll need to disarm you until we get a scan run."

"Fine," Jack answered, unholstering the revolver and handing it over.

Owen arrived in that moment, taking in Jack's appearance with a professional eye. "What the hell happened to you? Are you injured?" he asked, ducking under the liftgate and going straight for Jack's injured ribs with probing fingers.

Jack pushed away Owen's examination. "I'm fine."

"Liar. Just from the way you're sitting I can tell you're not and your chest's bandaged, so shirt off," Owen ordered.

He gritted his teeth to keep from snapping at the medic. "It's nothing. Bruised and sore, that's all." He sighed. "I promise you can get me naked later, okay? We don't have time right now." Jack looked up at the acting director, willing Bast to believe him. "Chris, please," he pleaded. "I'll..." Jack steeled himself. "...submit to the scan, but just order the withdrawal for me now."

Bast wavered, telling Owen to back off with a tip of his head. "Tell me why." Owen disappeared, presumably to get the neural scanner.

Blowing out a breath and closing his eyes for a second, Jack nodded. "Thanks. We've got something of a diplomatic situation going on down there. And I don't think a squadron of heavily armed and trigger-happy troops coming at them out of the dark is going to help matters."

He had Bast's attention. He really was a good guy, Chris. Despite being with Torchwood since the early seventies when he was recruited from MI-6, the diplomatic solution almost always appealed to him. A reluctant leader, it took a fair amount of cajoling to get Bast to take on acting director, but he was good at it, nonetheless. He preferred to stay on the tech side of things, only taking the role when it was thrust upon him by necessity and only for very short periods, escaping it as soon as humanly possible. Jack would have had no qualms about leaving Bast as his successor, but an official announcement like that would be the fastest way to drive the man out of the organisation and into the retirement he kept talking about. All the better that, with a little more experience, Jack could start using Gwen as his backup. She had the leadership experience and the core team adored her. She only needed some more familiarity with Torchwood operations.

"Three alien life-forms--non-hostile, reptilian--made an emergency landing." Jack briefed him. "Their ship's been inop, but the repair has been made and they're just about ready to be on their way." He wouldn't bring up who got it running again. "We've got a translation and are talking to them, so that's why I want everyone out. And anyone touches that ship, they're dealing with me personally." He all but growled the last threat.

Bast nodded solemnly. To Trent still standing by, he said, "Order the withdrawal."

Relief surged through him and Jack slumped against the vehicle frame with his eyes closed. "Thank you," he breathed.

"The order to stay away from the ship is going to kill Angela, you know," Bast said.

"She's here?" That surprised Jack, and he looked around. If she'd made the trip from Cardiff, she'd've been down there under the invisible spaceship with Toshiko.

"No, but she's already heard about the ship and was chafing at the bit to get her hands on it." Owen smirked. He was back with his medical kit and the scanner.

Jack suppressed a shudder when he saw the device and forced himself to refocus on the conversation. "I'll make it up to her somehow. She has a list from where I already owe her." He shrugged, and regretted it, getting a twinge of pain. "What're a few more entries?"

Owen opened the kit, watching him as if he were going to try again to get a look at his injuries. Instead, he asked the question that both he and Bast had been avoiding. "Gwen?"

"She's fine." Relief flooded both men's expressions. "Holding down the fort with the aliens. They like her," Jack explained.

"But she doesn't have any contact experience!" Bast bordered on incredulous.

"She does now," Jack shot back. He shoved himself up from his seat, minding the liftgate so he didn't hit his head. "Anyway, I have to get back down there."

"Now wait a minute, Jack," Bast protested and moved to block his path. Owen stopped Jack by the simple expedient of grabbing his forearm and pulling him back down to sit again.

It was true that, according to procedure, they had every obligation to keep him there until a neural scan had been performed to prove that he was who he claimed to be and wasn't under any alien influence or other form of compulsion. Conscientiousness and training wouldn't let Bast ignore opsec any more than they would let Jack in most cases. But Jack knew that, above operational security, Bast had the ulterior motive of getting Jack back into his role as director and the burden of command off his own shoulders.

Fortunately, Jack also knew which buttons to press with the man. He met Bast's hard stare with his own, assuring himself that this was about Gwen's safety and the success of the operation he had running down in the cave. And had nothing to do with his personal desire to avoid the neural scan if possible.

"To get here I had to evade one of the aliens--the one who didn't really trust me in the first place--and Gwenny has the translator, so I couldn't explain to him the danger I was trying to avert by running from him. By now, he's headed back to the others...and Gwen. And I can imagine he's pretty pissed off at me, and possibly the human race in general, right now.

"Chris, I have to get back down there. Gwen could be in trouble."

Stepping back, Bast said, "All right, you can go..." Jack breathed a sigh of relief. "...in five minutes when the scan's done." Bast nodded to Owen, and Jack groaned his discontent, resigned to his fate.

oOoOo

Belanal's outraged voice echoed in the wide chamber, and Saalenu instantly rushed to her aid. With a shout, she hit the centre of Zhuluss's chest with force enough to hospitalise or kill a man. The big alien only staggered a little, but his bruising hold on Gwen's arms loosened, and she twisted against the weakened grip. Wriggling free at last, she darted away from the enraged Zhuluss, her heart racing, trembling in her panic.

Saalenu was between her and her aggressor, shouting at him, but Zhuluss was less than interested, not even looking at her. His malevolent stare was fixed on Gwen. Saalenu was an impediment, but Gwen doubted she had the strength to stop Zhuluss if he were determined. Belanal's command cut across the cavern, silencing Saalenu and pulling Zhuluss's seething focus away from Gwen.

God, what the hell happened up there? She pushed down her panic when it became clear that Zhuluss wasn't going to take another swipe at her. Taking in the rest of the scene, she found that Doug and Mike had fled nearly to the edge of the room, their shock and horror evident even in the dwindling lamplight that reached them. Leaving a sizeable margin, she skirted the aliens' argument and went to them.

"What the fuck was that?" Mike stammered, his gaze never leaving the aliens.

"I wish I knew," she told him, her breathing only beginning to return to normal, her heart still fluttering rapidly in her chest. But she had an idea what was wrong. Zhuluss had said something about others arriving and Jack running off. That could only mean their fears had been answered and either the police or Torchwood had finally turned up. Jack must not have been able to reach them on his mobile; he never would have left Zhuluss otherwise. But did the ship get fixed?

Doug's hand on hers startled her. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

She shrugged off the enquiry. "Yeah, I'm okay, but I have to find out what's happened. Stay here."

Mike gawked at her. "Are you mad? That thing tried to kill you."

"He does have quite a temper. Stay here," she ordered again, "and stay out of the way." She probably was insane, she decided, but there was no sense in risking anyone else's life. "But, if he comes after me again, make for the surface."

Gwen didn't wait for a reaction. She turned and walked slowly back toward pool of lamplight where the aliens held their tense discussion. Zhuluss was calmer now, Belanal speaking intently to him, but when Saalenu caught sight of her, she moved to put herself between Gwen and Zhuluss. It seemed things were not quite settled yet, so Gwen halted, waiting at the edge of their little grouping, distractedly rubbing at the pain in her upper arms.

She missed the reassurance of having the translator and knowing what was going on. The tablet PC was still where she'd dropped it, very near where Zhuluss stood.

A final word from Belanal, and Zhuluss snorted disgustedly with a glance to Gwen. He didn't move, but some of the wariness disappeared from Saalenu's posture and she beckoned her forward.

Head held high, attempting to conceal her trepidation, Gwen went to pick up the translator. The transcript of the aliens' chat would tell her everything she wanted to know.

Except she couldn't read it.

The tablet PC's LCD had shattered, a huge glob of black oozing out from the crack in the plastic and obscuring most of the screen. She wasn't aware she'd made the woeful little noise until in her periphery she saw Saalenu's head snap around. Her narrow black gaze was alert as it glittered out of the shadows that covered her face. She fluted something questioning to Gwen as she approached.

Gwen raised the translator. "It broke. I can't read it," she lamented to the alien. But the half-second delayed echo of her words that had become so familiar was heartbreakingly absent. It wasn't translating her words either. Saalenu wailed mournfully, intuiting the problem from the device's silence.

Holding the computer up to her ear, she could hear the tiny mechanical sounds its internal workings made and felt a tiny vibration against the sensitive skin of her cheek. The hard drive and, hence, the language matrix might still be intact, but the translation programme wasn't running. And, without the display, she had no way to navigate the menus to get it running again.

She hoped Jack was having more luck outside.

oOoOo

"I'm going to hold you to the getting naked later, Jack," Owen muttered to him while he stripped sensor pads from their sterile packaging to place them at Jack's temples and the base of his skull. Jack knew what he was doing and was even thankful for his attempt to distract him from what was coming next. "For the record, I'm not happy letting you go without getting a look at your injuries, either." Jack just frowned at him, silently urging him to hurry up.

Finished connecting the probes, Owen was ready to trigger the scan.

Jack drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. "God, I hate this part."

"It really doesn't hurt if you relax," the medic chided lightly, but Jack heard the remorse in it.

"Easy for you to say." They both knew this wouldn't be painless for him. He grimaced as the pins and needles sensation split his skull. Sure, this part would be easier if he could relax, but he couldn't. He couldn't defeat his mind's reflexive, almost primal, need to fight against the process. It didn't help matters that something about the probe always made the hole in his memory throb like a toothache, either. He was certain that part wouldn't change whether he relaxed or not.

And the ride today was as bad as ever, as from under the stinging intensity of the maelstrom, the terribly familiar ache rose up out of the ragged void in his mind, the pain growing, consuming, until it was all he could do not to cry out. "Hold on, Jack." Owen's calm voice in his ears was a comfort. Tradition dictated that his next words would be... "A few more seconds."

The cessation of the onslaught was like hitting a brick wall. So much so that he was gasping from it, breath shuddering in his lungs, nerve endings on fire as the residual scanning energy dissipated. His jaw ached from the way he'd had it clenched. "It's over, Jack." Owen's tone was soothing. "It's over. I'm so sorry." His fingers were warm on Jack's neck, taking his carotid pulse, gently tugging the sticky pads from his skin.

Hardly feeling recovered and really wanting to curl up and, perhaps not die, but maybe pretend for a while, Jack was fully aware that precious time was slipping away and dutifully forced his eyes open. "There's gotta be a better way." He was a little dismayed but unsurprised by the way his voice shook.

"If there is, I hope they discover it soon," Owen said, his hand on Jack's shoulder, steadying and comforting. "You know I hate putting you through that. Nobody else reacts like you do."

Yeah, but nobody else's brain had been poked at by the Time Agency. Nor, as far as he knew, had anyone else on the team been exterminated by a Dalek death-squad and been resurrected from the dead.

Bast was looking down at him, concern also in his eyes. "All right, what else do you need from us?"

Struggling to pull himself together enough to think through the situation, he answered, "First, I need a flashlight." Zhuluss had the one they'd used to get to the surface. His headlamp and flashlight were in his pack still down in the cave. One of the men in grey fatigues, someone Jack didn't recognise, went to find him one.

"Get those guys out of the mine. Cordon off the area around the ship. No one in or out until it lifts off." Another thing came to his mind. "And call the North Wales Police--the Denbigh station. Tell 'em that their missing persons, Mike Westman and Doug Matheson, have been found. Do what you have to to keep them away from here and Westman and Matheson in our custody for the time being."

The soldier returned and presented him with a Maglite. "Thanks." Bast tried to give him back his gun, and Jack shook his head. "Hold on to it for me." Guilt stabbed at Jack as he remembered Mike Westman with it in his hand. He stripped off the gun-belt and passed it to Bast. "It's only caused trouble down there."

"Take this, anyway." The acting director unclipped the comm from his vest. "You should be able to contact us, even underground."

He saw it was one of the devices that Torchwood London had pieced together from Jathaa technology. Jack took it and clipped it to his belt. Someone had been thinking when they packed gear, had realised they might be conducting a subterranean search and that human radio technology wouldn't cut it in that event. "Great." He set off for the cave entrance.

oOoOo

They were on the move, Saalenu trying to explain what was happening as best she could with nearly non-existent English and gestures. Gwen took it all to mean that they were at long last headed for the ship. Jack must have done it, then. Even if he hadn't, it still made good sense that the safest place for the aliens right now was on their ship. If forces were mobilising on the surface, doubtless they'd be moving on to search the caves soon.

Zhuluss loaded the final crate onto the transport and took the lead. Still according him a wide berth, Gwen automatically stepped up to offer the slightly shaky Belanal her arm. He trilled his soft thanks to her.

She glanced over her shoulder at Mike and Doug. "Apparently, we're going. Stick close."

Their unlikely entourage progressed wordlessly, slowly, hampered by Belanal's injured leg. Yet even Zhuluss, who struck Gwen as the impatient sort at the best of times, seemed content maintain the pace Belanal set. She had to confess to a level of impatience that the aliens did not appear to share. She knew the two young men felt it, too, for a different reason. Theirs was explained by being held captive for three days. Hers had to do with the feeling that, at any moment, they could be beset by armed men who might decide to shoot first.

The feeling wasn't helped by the fact that she could swear she'd heard something in the tunnels behind them. The possibly imagined sound had given her pause, but she hadn't heard it again. Perhaps it was her imagination, or some other natural noise distorted by the irregular shapes and surfaces of the caverns.

Gwen was also aware that the journey was wearing on Belanal. Though he made no comment, she could see the increasing strain in his posture and grimness in his countenance. The weight he was putting on her accumulated little by little. Gwen was glad to offer as much assistance as she could, but eventually the big alien would need more help than she'd be able to give. As it was, she was tiring quickly. The decision to leave behind her and Jack's packs' non-essential contents had been a very good one that she was grateful for. Essentially, only the defunct translator and the spectrographic scanner had made the cut. She'd kept her torch and the small medical kit in to ward off Murphy.

Belanal took a faltering step then, nearly falling but for Gwen's support and Saalenu's quick reaction. Together she and Saalenu eased him down to rest on the ground against the passage wall. She dropped to the rock floor beside him, putting a comforting hand on his when he made an apologetic wuffling noise. "Not your fault," she assured him, knowing her sentiment would be conveyed by her tone and touch not her words.

Zhuluss spoke then, expressing something garnering agreement from Belanal and Saalenu. He started to move off with the equipment transport. She guessed that he would go ahead to get the crates loaded while they rested with Belanal.

Catching Saalenu's eye, Gwen gestured to Mike and Doug and then in the direction Zhuluss had headed in. She knew from her earlier trip with Saalenu that they had to be close to the cave mouth. It was worth a try to see if the cavers could follow Zhuluss out.

Saalenu called to Zhuluss to stay his departure. A momentary exchange with Belanal, and the elder shrugged his consent.

Gwen got to her feet, pulling the handcuff key from her pocket. She'd have to trust that the two young men wouldn't be able to cause too much trouble before the aliens were safely away, and that Zhuluss wouldn't lose his temper with them in the meantime. Unlocking the cuffs, she instructed, "Follow Zhuluss to the surface. Give him his space, but don't lag, and don't do anything stupid to upset him. Understand?" Both men nodded solemnly, giving Zhuluss wary looks.

"What about you?" Mike asked.

She shook her head. "I'm staying. If you come across Jack, let him know the situation." A few yards away, Zhuluss was getting testy about having to wait. "Best get going, then."

Before turning away, Doug put out a hand to her to grasp hers briefly. "Thank you."

Gwen smiled her acceptance, telling him to go before their escort lost any more patience.

Close to ten minutes later, Gwen's eyes jerked open. The probably imagined sound behind them wasn't imagined this time. Voices, muffled by distance and distortion, but assuredly voices. If she had to guess, they were in the large cavern already. Saalenu was nervous, but then so was she. Time to go.

There was nowhere to hide here, so their best option was still forward to the ship. Between them, Gwen and Saalenu got Belanal to his feet again. One on either side, they supported his weight, adding only a tiny modicum of speed to their previously laborious pace.

If they got closer, Gwen knew she'd have to leave Saalenu to help Belanal and intercept the humans coming up behind them. She wouldn't let them come to harm.

A burst of staticy radio-chatter from the passage in front of them chilled her insides. Whoever was coming at them from that direction was still some distance away, but much closer than the others.

Their escape route was blocked; they were trapped.

There was nothing for it. She'd have to go and stop the intruder approaching from the cave entrance. Motioning for her two companions to stay where they were and keep quiet, she went to meet their visitor. Gwen switched on the headlamp she'd donned but hadn't had cause to use as Saalenu turned off her own lamp to mask their presence.

She followed the passage's twisting course for several yards until she was sure the aliens were well out of sight. "Hello?" she called out when she saw the halo of torchlight illuminating the tunnel before her. The one thing she didn't want to do was come out of the dark and startle an armed individual. It was a really good way to court the risk of being shot.

A very familiar voice responded to her challenge. "Hello yourself, gorgeous."

"Jack!"

He grinned, but it was a little bit brittle. Many people wouldn't see through the show he was giving her, but she could, and she'd wager that whatever ordeal he'd met on the surface wasn't as easy to handle as he'd tell her. "I knew you'd miss me," Jack pronounced. He shone his light into the tunnel behind her. "What did you do with our friends? Doug told me you still had Saalenu and Belanal with you."

She gestured back the way she'd come, and he followed. "Thought they should stay out of sight until I found out who was coming."

Jack nodded. His bright grin turned to something wry and vaguely contemplative as he flirted. "Of course, Doug also said something about handcuffs... Always did love a woman who knew her way around a set of handcuffs."

The comm in his hand squawked and let out a spate of hissing static, interrupting him. Jack halted, sticking his torch under his arm and smacking the black handheld against the palm of his hand. It rewarded him with another static-filled squawk and fell silent. "Why was London stealing comm tech from people who primarily use pictures to communicate, anyway?" he complained rhetorically. "The Jathaa know nothing about voice comms."

"Jack," Gwen said, calling his attention back to the situation, "someone's in the tunnel coming this way."

"Yeah, I just heard." He gestured with the comm. "That'd be our guys who apparently didn't get the message to pull out. Probably--surprise--a bad comm." He tucked his away into the pocket of his jacket.

Seeing Saalenu and Belanal, he put on a smile. "Hi, guys." Both aliens relaxed visibly when they recognised him. "Been keeping my girl out of trouble for me?" He winked to Gwen. "All right, Gwen, I think you'd best go on ahead with Belanal and Saalenu. Should be smooth sailing from here. Ship's powered and ready. The way's clear and will stay clear as long as everyone up top follows orders. I'll go stall our boys in the tunnel.

"When you get them home safe, if I haven't joined you already, Bast's got the command vehicle just over the hill from the cave mouth."

"Okay, thanks. Good luck," she said returning to Belanal's side, and Jack bid Saalenu and Belanal farewell before he disappeared into the darkness.

The remainder of the journey was still painfully slow, but she felt better knowing Jack was running interference.

The daylight pouring in through the opening had to count as one of the loveliest things she'd ever seen. When they arrived, Zhuluss was waiting for them, keeping watch over the area leading up to the cave. As Jack had promised, there was no sign of life anywhere within view.

Stopping near the cave exit, Belanal took his hand from her arm and spoke softly to her, stroking her hand lightly between his. A goodbye? Gwen was confused. They hadn't reached the ship. It couldn't be goodbye quite yet.

Saalenu was next, her farewell and thanks coming as a somewhat careful embrace as she took special care not to crush Gwen. She suddenly didn't know what to say. Though it didn't really matter, did it? Her words wouldn't mean anything to them just as theirs didn't to her. But the sentiment came through. That was what really mattered. She was happy that they were finally able to resume their journey, that they hadn't run into the worst that her race could offer in the interim, but she was just the slightest bit sad to see them go.

When Saalenu let her go, Zhuluss had joined them. To Gwen's surprise, he put his huge hand out, she guessed, in apology. She put her hand in his for a moment and smiled, hoping to show him that she'd forgiven him. With a concise nod, he stepped back a little.

When it was clear she didn't understand what was happening, Saalenu guided Gwen to stand apart from them. Still bewildered by the ritual, Gwen stayed where she'd been put, and was astonished when, in a flash of white light, her friends vanished.

She was still agape half a minute later when Jack's arm settled around her shoulders. "Teleport's a neat trick, isn't it?" His smile was easy. She could imagine he'd seen green-scaled aliens disappear into the ether a thousand times before. "It's going to disappoint the hell out of everyone up top, though, that they didn't get to see the aliens."

The mention of others made her look behind them. Where had the team gone? Jack replied to the implied question. "Oh, I sent them back to secure things until we get the clean-up team in there. Figured it'd keep 'em busy until our friends got out." His arm around her tightened in a quick one-armed hug before he grabbed her hand. "C'mon, let's go see them off. Though, invisible spaceship--probably won't be that impressive a sight," he conceded. "But, if you're into such things, I'm betting the sound of the engines alone will be worth the ticket price."

The import, if not quite the reality, of what she and Jack had accomplished set in, suffusing her with a warm glow of satisfaction as he dragged her into the crisp air of a bright Sunday. Just the two of them had averted something that could so easily have turned bloody. She remembered then why she'd been drawn to police work and understood why Jack was so interested in adding new blood to Torchwood's ranks. In the organisation's historical records, reports where visitors to Earth--peaceful or otherwise--met with humanity and actually left the planet were exceedingly rare. Its aim until the recent past had been to capture and conquer, bringing down and raiding passing ships for their technology. She was glad to be part of a new legacy.

oOoOo

Dressed and rested, and feeling human once again, Jack balanced the box and the bottles on the ornately-carved hall table conveniently located near her door, and knocked.

Gwen answered a few seconds later. "Jack." She backed up a few steps to let him in.

Instead, he propped himself against the doorframe. "Listen, I have this lead on a really great Thai place if you're interested." Her negative reaction was slight--her nose wrinkled a little at the suggestion--and exactly as he expected. He continued blithely. "And, if I'm not mistaken, I think somewhere along the line yesterday I promised you an expense-account dinner."

"Thank you, but--"

"But you're more the pizza and beer sort of girl." He cut her off with a grin. He retrieved the six-pack from the table and handed it to her, grabbing the pizza box. "Good thing I guessed that. Besides, we don't have a car yet."

She favoured him with a laugh and pointed him in the direction of the writing desk at one side of the cosy room to set down the pizza. As she straightened the room a bit, shoving her bag and a small pile of clothing into the corner, Jack found a seat on the still-made half of the bed, his back against the headboard. From the look of things, she, like he, had caught a shower and a few hours sleep since Owen had dropped them off at the bed and breakfast in Llangynhafal.

She turned and he saw the makings of a large, livid bruise showing beneath the sleeve of her t-shirt. "Zhuluss do that? He seemed the quick-tempered type."

Gwen looked confused for an instant before realising what he referred to. She glanced at her arm. "Yeah, when he came back down after you'd run off on him. Shook me around a bit."

"I'm really sorry about that."

She dismissed the apology with a shake of her head. "You did what you had to. I'm okay. It all worked out, and they're safe and away back into space. And your ribs?"

"Fine. Owen wouldn't leave me alone until he'd had a look. You know, he had me half-naked and didn't even have the decency to give me the impression that his interest wasn't entirely professional."

Gwen feigned a sympathetic look for him. "Oh, you poor thing."

"Gave me something to knock the edges off the pain, too. Course it means it's probably safer if you drive us back tomorrow." The edges of the pain weren't the only edges he'd lost to the drug; if he tried to concentrate, he bumped into the almost euphoric haze that deadened the corners of his consciousness.

"They'll drop off a car for us later when things are cleared up at the mine," he informed her. Standard sanitisation procedures called for the mine and surrounding area to be thoroughly searched and any sign of extraterrestrial presence removed. Fortunately that was something the team could do by themselves while he and Gwen recovered from the last thirty hours.

"Oh, and Doug and Mike have been debriefed and sent home. After talking with them, Bast doesn't anticipate any problems with either of them keeping their mouths shut about what they've seen."

He had the niggling feeling he was forgetting something. He was, he realised when Gwen picked up one of the beer bottles and tapped the cap with her nail as she sought a way to open it. Slipping the borrowed bottle wrench from his back pocket, he handed it to her, and she opened two bottles.

"Hmm, always prepared. Boy Scout?" she said, offering him one. Owen had had his usual grave warnings about alcohol and the painkillers he'd given him, but Jack intended to ignore him. He figured that, if a Dalek didn't do the job, then a beer on top of a mild narcotic didn't stand a chance. And if he did fall asleep right here on Gwen's bed--well, she wasn't the type to molest him too badly. Not that he'd mind.

"Something like that." She opened her mouth to say something in response, but thought better of it and stopped. "What?" he asked, expecting it was an aborted jibe about his proclivities.

She shook her head. "Back in the cave--promised I wouldn't pry, didn't I?"

"No, you didn't. You promised to understand when I told you to leave off." She'd also made another offer, an offer to be a friend and to listen if he wanted. He took a sip from his bottle, making a decision. "What was the question?"

"The question? That implies there was only one. And, my dear Captain Harkness, I've got nothing but questions..." The tone was lightly teasing, but it was clear she meant every word.

"That you think I won't answer. Try me."

She paused, fleeting incredulity on her face before the look turned wilful, almost mischievous. Jack could see her mind at work; she was auditioning the questions she had on her list and picking a doozy, he was sure. He wasn't disappointed as her query went right for the throat.

"I'm pretty sure there's no one else on this planet--no one at UNIT, not even anyone else at Torchwood--that steps right up to an alien spaceship engine without batting an eye. Uses an alien toolkit filled with stuff that it would take Toshiko and Angela months, if not years, to even identify, again, with absolutely no fuss. No one else that talks to--flirts with--aliens like they're any random human off the street. But you do.

"And I have to ask myself, how does someone acquire that particular brand of knowledge and experience?" She regarded him for a moment, seeming to look right through him. "You've seen all of it before, haven't you--aliens and spaceships?"

"Yeah."

He watched her as she took a long drink, the gears turning, digesting the answer and working out what to ask next. "What about yesterday on the moor? You talked about the future like you'd seen it too."

He gave her an indulgent smile. "Tell you what. How about I tell you a long and complicated--and probably unbelievable--story about a guy from the fifty-first century? A cop--of a sort--betrayed by the agency he believed in and turned criminal, redeemed and turned companion to a myth and a shopgirl. A guy who fell in love with a way of life, and a ship, and maybe--just maybe--fell a little bit for the people he shared them with, too. But in the end, he was left behind. Whether he was betrayed again or simply forgotten--some other reason--he won't know until he catches up with the myth again."

Her expression was thoughtful as she picked up the pizza box and climbed onto the bed to sit with him. "And does our protagonist think he will catch up?" she asked, lightly nudging his shoulder with hers and picking a slice out of the box.

Jack grinned then. "Anything's possible. But, yeah, he thinks he'll see his myth again some day." And he was certain that would be an interesting story in itself.