Chapter Two

"The Boss found Torchwood."

It took all of three seconds for their unit to swing into an action plan that was so smooth it seemed almost rehearsed. Quills were traded for wands; casual clothes were traded for combat gear. Each member of the unit acted as if this were just another high alert operation.

But it wasn't.

They all knew that fact – knew that this was both important and personal – but they pretended like they didn't care.

Eleanor shrugged calmly out of her lab coat, throwing the tailored, navy piece of cloth into her locker and retrieving a pair of dragon-hide boots. The boots themselves were battered, having been used multiple times, but had been kept nicely. As she tugged them on over her stripy socks, Eleanor marvelled at how comfy they were. These were the best money could buy.

Underneath her lab-coat, Eleanor was already dressed in the unit's designated battle-gear. Coloured in muted greens and browns, the outfit could easily be mistaken as a liberal choice of dressing if they were caught in a muggle area, but was covered in so many enchantments that someone could have run at her with a bludgeoning ram and Eleanor would probably survive.

After pulling a pair of gloves on over her hands for protection, Eleanor withdrew her wand from its place behind her ear and slotted it into the wand-holster up her sleeve. She was just checking herself over when a voice came from behind her, startling her slightly.

"You ready, Hell's Bells?"

Eleanor turned around to see Dennis stood behind her, fully prepared.

"Yeah," Eleanor said. "Just let me grab a med-kit and we can go."

Dennis nodded and took to slouching against the wall, observing Eleanor as she rooted through another locker, looking for the offending item.

"You don't ever grow out of it, do you?" Dennis asked softly, just as Eleanor's fingers grasped around a green and white container.

"Grow out of what?" Eleanor asked, throwing the container into her handbag.

Dennis motioned for them to walk and talk.

"Muggle habits," he clarified. "Most wizards would just lazily summon the med-kit, but to you, it feels better to look through everything manually."

"If you're going to spout some crap about how muggleborns can't ever be fully integrated into society—"

"It's not bad, Ellie," Dennis cut across her. "Just different." Then, in a change of subject so sudden it was almost awkward, Dennis said, "We're baby-sitting the kid. Justin and Gobby are playing back-up for the Boss, so we're to go and hold the fort, so to speak."

Eleanor nodded. "They already leave?" she asked.

"Yeah," Dennis confirmed.

An uneasy silence settled over the duo.

"This is big, isn't it?" Eleanor whispered.

Dennis didn't answer. Instead, he said, "Apparate on three?"

Eleanor nodded.

"One—"

Dennis's silence just reinforced what she already knew. If they screwed this up, Harry would probably never be the same again.

"Two—"

And Harry had saved them – saved them all. They couldn't let that happen.

"Three!"

CRACK!

Jack's voice choked in his throat. He stared at Harry, his swaggering demeanour completely lost.

His hand in Jack's…

"Gray?" Jack managed to say.

Harry leant back against the bar, coolly regarding Jack.

"Your brother," he stated.

He didn't mean to let him go…

Jack's entire world seemed to ground to a halt. Gray. Gray. Gray. He'd searched up and down and around and backwards and forwards and sideways and anywhere and everywhere for Gray. He'd run and run and run and run, never stopping to breathe, pulling apart entire planets looking for him. Gray: his first and most irremovable stain.

Jack had failed him.

Jack had failed his family.

Jack had failed himself.

Just the mention of his failure was enough to pull Jack apart at the seams. His wit and sarcasm died on his lips. His commanding voice choked in his throat.

"How..?" he began, too broken to be horrified by how weak he sounded. "When? Where?"

"Bad day at work," Harry replied, answering Jack's questions in a short and relaxed manner. "Don't actually know when. Or where, for that matter. Complete accident, all things considered."

Jack only half listened to Harry's explanations as his brain stumbled over the realisation. Gray was alive. Hopefully. He could make it better. Not right, but better. The pieces seemed to slot into place in his brain and his steady resolve took charge over his emotionally charged thought processes.

Keep it cool, Cap'n, he told himself. Don't give him what he wants. Business first.

"How did you find me?" Jack asked, forcing himself to relax.

"Now isn't that a story?" Harry asked rhetorically, playing with a drinks coaster that was on the bar-top. "Trust me when I say you didn't make it easy. I'm not an easy man to elude and it took me two years to find you. It didn't help that I had relatively little to go on – just a first name and a basic description of you as a child. But we kept trying, kept pulling strings, calling in favours until a year ago, we managed to get a breakthrough. We didn't get much, but we did get one word: Torchwood."

Jake raked his eyes over Harry's face, ignoring but still noticing, the handsome nature of his features. The use of the first person plural in Harry's dialogue hadn't escaped Jack's noticed and Jack suspected it had been dropped into his speech deliberately. Harry was trying to tell Jack that he wasn't alone.

Which nixed killing him as a suitable solution.

Which it never was, given how he needed this man alive to save his brother and all.

But the really worrying thing that Harry had said was about Torchwood. No one, and Jack meant no one, found Torchwood when they were trying to hide.

Unless they did some serious political lobbying – had some serious influence – people shouldn't be able to find it out through the usual channels. And Jack trusted Tosh; no one should be able to get into their systems. And any old team members were dead.

So how had Harry gotten that word?

And linked it back to him?

And then it hit him. The same clues Gwen had found – the small dregs and afterimages that they'd left behind half out of curiosity as to who would pick up on them – could have been found by anyone.

Jack was willing to bet Harry could hear his brain whirring, but the man ignored it, merely throwing the drinks coaster into the air and then catching it.

Gameface, Cap'n, he told himself. Gameface.

"We don't make a habit of broadcasting our activities, " Jack said, flashing a smile at Harry. It was his back-up plan. When all else failed, turn on the charm. It was one of the unspoken rules of the universe; Jack could charm himself into the good books – and underwear – of anyone.

Harry shot Jack an amused look, snatching the coaster out of the air.

"Of course you don't," Harry said in a tone that spoke of hidden irony. "That's why I had no idea where to find you for the best part of a year. Believe me, that's impressive enough as it is." Harry sighed wistfully. "It was just good fortune that I decided to settle my tab with the local pizza place this afternoon, when, thanks to a policewoman who seemed hot on your tails, I found out you ordered pizza under the name of Torchwood."

Harry met Jack's gaze head-on. "Very subtle." He paused, then thoughtfully ran a hand through his unruly hair. "Come to think of it, it's almost embarrassing we missed that."

And that was why Owen was never ordering take-out for the Hub again.

"After that," Harry continued unperturbed, "it was merely a case of relocating PC Cooper after she left into your evil lair and as slippery as all mu— State police officials are, you," Harry jabbed a finger at him, "dress in quite possibly the least inconspicuous manner I have ever seen."

"But I do look damned good, don't I?" Jack all but smirked. There, he was falling back into this now. Easy as pie.

Harry's eyes flickered over Jack's form. He shrugged.

"I've seen worse," he said cryptically.

Jack decided that he'd take it as a compliment. Even if it sounded something like a sneer.

"Presumably, our efforts to track me down weren't based solely on a raging desire to get some of this," Jack gestured vaguely at his body, "so what can I do you for, Harry James Potter, spelled as it sounds?"

When Jack saw the amusement flash across Harry's face, he felt a mild jolt of triumph. The man was relaxing. Letting his guard down. Good.

"I'd like you, Captain Jack Harkness, to place this," Harry lifted Jack's hand up from where it was resting on the bar-top, "on this." He placed Jack's hand onto the coaster he had been playing with.

Jack couldn't help but feel this was all a bit strange.

"Are you going to do a magic trick?" Jack couldn't help but ask, layering it with as much leer as possible.

Harry smiled sardonically. "Maybe."

Jack opened his mouth to make a quip about wizards, but Harry interrupted. "Trust me when I say that there is no joke about magic wands you could tell me that I wouldn't have already heard."

Jack seriously doubted that. By the fifty-first century, people had gotten far more creative with innuendos. There were things he could say to Harry that the poor bloke wouldn't even understand, but would still make him blush just from the implications.

"So, is there a safety word?" Jack continued with energy. "Alakazam? Abbra—"

"Portus."

"That's an odd one. What does it—"

And suddenly, Jack wished that he had closed his mouth.

Because he felt like he was going to be sick.

"Was that what I thought—"

"Were you thinking Harry just created an illegal port-key?"

"Yes."

"Then yes, yes that was."

"Doesn't he remember what happened last time?"

"I don't think he cares."

"You know what this means, right, Dennis?"

"What?"

"More paperwork."

"…Can I kill him?"

Harry neither disliked nor liked Jack Harkness after his first meeting of the man. In his head, Harry could list the captain's attributes in things that made Harry like him and things that made Harry want to snap his neck. PRO: he had a sense of humour. CON: it was dirtier than the tunnel down to the Chamber of Secrets. PRO: he obviously cared about his brother. CON: it was hard to tell if he cared more about himself. PRO: he hadn't tried to kill Harry… And, come to think of it, it was rather worrying just how often that happened… CON: he had flirted outrageously with him… And, come to think of it, that happened far too often as well.

Harry resisted the urge to shake his head to clear it and instead turned his attention back to the unconscious captain before him.

A crack sounded behind Harry, as Gabrielle apparated in.

"Well, fuck me." She walked around Harry and stared at the man on the ground. Using her wand, she pried open his lips and inspected the perfect rows of white teeth.

"Where ever did you find such a fine specimen, Boss?" Gabrielle asked, prodding Jack's face with her wand. "They just don't make them like this anymore."

Another crack went off and Justin appeared to the side of Harry. He looked between his boss and the conked out man on the floor before he shook his head.

"We've talked about this, Boss," Justin stated wryly. "Handing your spiked drinks to random strangers just isn't fair."

"Can we keep him?"

"I didn't spike his drink," Harry replied. "Just a bit of impromptu port-keying."

"Can I at least get Ellie to clone him?"

"Boss, I hate to say it, but you know what sort of trouble your last illegal port-key got you into, don't you?" Justin asked rhetorically.

"I promise I'll take good care of him!"

Harry scowled. "It's different this time."

"Please!"

"How?"

"He's so cute!"

"I won't get caught."

Justin raised his eyebrows, regarding Harry in a manner that clearly said, 'I don't believe you for a second, but I'm going to let this go in favour of dealing with what we have to do right now.'

Harry sent him back a look that read, 'Please. I won't get caught. You and I both know that. Now stop being annoying and reign in Gabrielle before she drools over the captain.'

Justin sighed. "Gabby, he's not a dog."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "You take away all my fun," she said. "I want to act immature for one second and you go all stony-ass on me."

She withdrew her wand from its holster and pointed it at Jack's face.

"Enneverate."

Jack's eyes snapped open.

"Captain Jack Harkness and who are you?"

This is around the fourth draft there is of this chapter and I'm still not satisfied. What I am satisfied with is that I finally finished it and am posting it post-haste. What did actually make me finish this chapter and get it up was the reviews. I just want to say thank you.

And I had to stick that last line in there somewhere. It was his catch-phrase on Doctor Who, for crying out loud!

So, my dear readers, until we meet again.

Kaputt

PS: Reviews make me smile. Make a person smile. You know you want to.