The E. T. I. A Files: Across Time And Space

A/N: All that I ask is that you suspend disbelief. It is somewhat necessary for this series ;D

Cranville House, 7th February, 2000

The hallway outside the CO's office was cold and grey, as Commander Louisa Dunham continued her solitary march up and down its length.

The light gleamed off of her dark red hair, unruly curls pulled back into a tight regulation bun. Her boots, polished to a mirror shine, beat a path into the ruthlessly scrubbed floors beneath her feet.

The house in which Louisa paced had once been a stately home until a covert arm of Her Majesty's Forces took it for their own use. It still retained some of its former grandeur, as she paused for a moment to look out of the window, out over the manicured green lawns, and beyond, to the barbed wire fencing and the Royal Marines currently on security detail.

"Commander Dunham," a voice called, pulling the young officer from her thoughts as she turned to him, a young Sergeant in Army uniform, his gaze respectfully lowered from hers. "General Lowe and Captain Stewart will see you now."

With a short nod, she stepped inside, the door closing silently behind her.

The office was once a grand parlour, and remnants of the house's former status still clung, in the gilded cornices of the ceiling, and the plush carpet beneath her boots. Directly in front her stood a large antique, mahogany desk, the table legs fashioned into taloned feet. The walls were plain except for a single portrait of Her Majesty the Queen, hanging up above a pinned, pressed Union Flag.

Louisa swore she could feel the stern Queen's gaze watching her as she entered the room.

Directly in front of the portrait, behind the desk, sat her superior officer.

"You understand, Commander Dunham, the parameters of this assignment?" General Lowe, a man in his early fifties, black hair flecked with grey, his formerly strong body just starting to go to paunch in his perfectly tailored Army uniform, leaned forward on his desk, his hands clasped on the cluttered surface in front of him.

"Yes sir," she replied softly, aware of the careful gaze of the only other man in the room. The man who had recruited her into E. T. I. A from the Royal Navy only a year ago.

The Emergency Temporal Intelligence Agency was formed years before when some government scientists, as part of a government iniative which proved successful, made a monumental breakthrough in time travel.

Or only successful in that it opened up another route for war to be waged in the 20th century, and now the 21st century.

It was Louisa's job, as one of a select few, to travel back in time whenever they detected a flux in the timeline, and stop it. E. T. I. A was also tasked with the retrieval and relocation of individuals, who after their apparent 'deaths', were seen as worthy of a second chance at life.

Louisa had been waiting for this assignment since she joined E. T. I. A one year ago.

"You've done good work in the year you've been with us, Commander Dunham," Lowe continued, looking through what was obviously her personnel file. "You've successfully completed assignments in 1066, 1537, and 1840. You have been commended by several of your commanding officers, both within E. T. I. A. and during your time in Her Majesty's Royal Navy. How do you feel about going back to 1914?"

"I'm looking forward to it, Sir," she replied carefully, not allowing any pleasure at the General's praise to show on her face.

"Very well," the General nodded to the young officer stood beside him, who handed Louisa a manila folder. She flicked it open to reveal a grainy sepia shot, aged and only yellowing further, of a young cavalry officer, his face unsmiling and stern, yet there seemed to be a genial twinkle in his eyes that not even Edwardian strictures about the proper way to be photographed could hide. He was handsome, light-haired, although from the shot she couldn't be sure if he was blonde. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognised the man within the photo.

At last.

"Captain Stewart, if you please," General Lowe gestured to the younger man, tall, thin and lanky, with dark blonde hair that had been rigidly tamed within a military haircut. Unlike the General he was clothed in the same black and gold uniform as Louisa, that of her Majesty's Royal Navy.

"Your assigned retrieval is Captain James Nicholls, formerly of the North Somerset Yeomanry. Time and place of death: Quievrechain, France, 26th September 1914." the young captain began, his piercing blue eyes meeting hers as she listened patiently.

She had heard all of this before. Ever since she had joined E.T.I.A and even before that as a child, she had grown up with the story of Captain James Nicholls.

"Your assignment is simple: retrieval and relocation. We will send you back two months before his regiment was shipped out, so you may build a rapport with him, then you will follow him to France and get him out after he is shot down in the field."

"You must not be seen, Commander Dunham," General Lowe interrupted firmly, his cool eyes raking her form. "The retrieval must be quick and invisible. The timeline cannot be disrupted."

"I understand, sir," she replied, in a neutral tone. God forbid she not know what she was doing after twelve months on the job.

"Very well," Lowe leaned back in his chair, a gruff twinkle replacing his sternness. "I hope you're ready for corsets and petticoats, Commander."

"Already looking forward to it, Sir," she rolled her eyes, smiling slightly as she stood, replaced her cap, saluted and then shook the General's hand.

"Good luck, Commander," he replied. "You going to need it."

Captain Stewart followed her out of the CO's office, the manila folder with Nicholl's picture grasped tightly in one hand.

"Well, you've got it," the captain smiled as the pair walked briskly down the corridor. "Nervous?"

"What do you think, Jack?" she breathed, her grip tightening on the folder until they turned white. "I've been waiting for this day since you dragged me kicking and screaming into E. T. I. A."

He chucked. "I think you gave as good as you got," he retorted good-naturedly. "You leave in two hours. Wardrobe, Tech and the History boys are waiting to get you ready and brief you on everything you need to know."

"Ugh," Louisa sighed. "The only thing I hate about this job is going back to times when women are still treated like porcelain dolls."

"It's only for a few months," Jack replied soothingly. "You'll be fine."

"Says you," she grumbled. "You've never had to wear a corset. Or spend a month fending off advances from creepy old men like Sir Francis Bryan in 1537!"

"You know I apologised for that, a hundred times over," Jack sighed. "And as for the corsets, well you do look good in them."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," she told him archly as they paused by the main stairwell, the once grand structure sweeping down to the lower levels, the carpet faded from years of cleaning beneath their boots. Jack caught hold of her arm, holding her back a moment.

"Lou," he began, using his old childhood nickname for her. "I know you've been raring to go for this, ever since old Grumps told you about him, all those years ago but-"

"But what, Jack?" Louisa frowned.

"Don't fall for him. You know it's prohibited," he finished, somewhat awkwardly. Louisa stilled, her eyes meeting her old childhood friend and mentor's eyes steadily.

It was one of only a few cardinal rules for E. T. I. A agents. Never get caught, never fall in love with your assignments, and never meddle with the timeline. Louisa knew this as well as anyone. There had been a few agents who had fallen in love with targets before, and they rarely ended well.

"I can assure you of at least one thing, Captain," she murmured. "I will not fall in love with Captain Nicholls."

"Well, good," Jack sighed, turning away and once again leading the way down the stairs. "We've sent two agents ahead to secure your cover story as well as lodgings. You'll have all you need to complete the assignment and get close to Nicholls."

"Understood. What is my alias?" she asked, falling back into step beside him.

"We decided to let you keep your name this time, except you will be Lady Dunham. Always easier to get in with the military types when you're a young widow living alone," he smiled, wickedly. Louisa rolled her eyes. "The rest is up to you."

"Always easiest," she quipped. "God knows the last alias was shoddy enough. What do those boys drink?"

Jack smiled but didn't answer, as he led her down the familiar corridors of the house where Louisa would jump back in time.

This day had been long in coming, ever since his great-grandfather, a former cavalry officer and government official had told him of E. T. I. A and the favour he wanted done. Not by him, by Major James Stewart's great-grandson, but by Louisa Dunham.

For some reason, his old Grumps, as they had so affectionately called him as children before he passed away, had always insisted it had to be Louisa who did it, who went back in time and retrieved Captain Nicholls. He had never explained why, and once the dementia hit, well then it was far too late.

And so he had subtly steered Louisa in that direction for years, suggesting that she join the Forces, then E. T. I. A, mentoring her himself. Telling her stories that old Grumps had told him, of Captain Nicholls.

Sometimes he worried that he had forged too emotional a bond in the young Commander. He could only hope that he wouldn't tip her over the edge, so that even her own professionalism and sense of duty would not stop her from breaking one of E.T.I.A's most unbreakable rules.

Although, Louisa had never been one for rules.