Summary: Slowly building AU from Stolen Earth. Gwen and Ianto alone in the Hub uncover a little secret that sends them on a journey that's going to change they lives. No need to know what Amber is to understand what's going on. But I tell you what – it is the best fantasy novels I have ever read. Other characters: Jack (Torchwood), Flora and Luke/Rinaldo with pinch of Corwin (Amber). As for Amber timeline takes places few years past Hall of Mirrors.

Disclaimer: nothing is mine

A/n: Do you know what happens when you are telling yourself "no-way in hell"? You end up doing it. I like forbid myself to write Torchwood/Chronicles of Amber crossover. And guess what? Well... Anyway! I NEED BETA. Anyone?

A/N: I moved it from x-over section because I was unimpressed with quantity of what could be found on Book of Amber section here on ffnet.

Bloodline

I sat with my eyes closed and willed for something, anything to happen. But apart from ever-present humming of mainframe, our computer that is, and Gwen off-key version of "In the Mood" - nothing. And where did she find harmonica? How could it cross anybody's mind that playing Glen Miller on harmonica was a good idea? I guess it was one of these great mysteries of the universe. I couldn't prove it of course, but I strongly suspected that it was Jack's fault. I took a mental note to shoot the bastard when he will come back. Of course that could be alien harmonica she found in archives, but at this point I sincerely didn't care anymore about charters, regulations and rules. I signed, stretched and slowly made my way to the kitchen area.

"What do you want for breakfast, ma'am?" I shouted half across the Hub.

"Terrine of Foie Gras with a Honey. Pineapple Carpaccio with Mascarpone Cheese and a Lime Sorbet. Glass of Möet Chandon."

"Beans that is than."

I yawned and set myself to making our modest meal.

Ten minutes later we both were dubiously starring at my chef d'oeuvre.

Gwen uncertainly probed it with a fork.

"And that's how legends fall."

I raised my eyebrows.

"…?"

"I though you could cook."

"Why?" I asked with mild interest.

She shrugged.

"Well… you can make coffee."

"Aha. I'm afraid my first work was in Starbacks, not Bellinis."

"No!" she sound nearly horrified.

I snorted.

The water dripped somewhere behind us with steady tap. Drip-drip-drip.

Scratch killing Jack, after we got out of that fix, I was going to hire horde of ugliest plumbers in the world and than make Jack retcon them all.

"Blimey!" she said sitting up strait.

"Forget to switch off the iron?" I asked politely.

She hit me in the forearm.

"Remember that theory Owen fussed about?"

"Which one? The one where bears are aliens from another dimension or one about origin of weevils?"

"No. The one where one of us just had to be Jack illegitimate child."

I cleared my throat.

"That's possible," I agreed, "from statistical point of view. He was living in Cardiff for the last century and a half and got around, but do you think it's wise?"

"Why?"

"If I related to Jack I sincerely do not want to know. If you are related to Jack than you would have to abandon that sweet fantasy about alien pollen and team orgy you told me about last week."

"Mm-hm," she said obviously not convinced. "I'll give you retcon if what."

"Gwen!"

"No, listen! That's brilliant idea."

The trouble with Gwen was that she was bloody convincing. She could probably persuade Weevils to dance Hoffedd ap Hywel if only she knew they language and got such idea on the first place.

"I'm not convinced."

Of course I was more then curios myself, and sure as hell I wasn't going to admit it.

"Ianto!"

I shook my head.

She glared at me.

I glared back.

I lost.

"OK. You win," I said in half-hearted defeat. "Do you want to use outdated information as well?"

"Huh?"

"For the dead," I clarified.

She froze with mug half way to her lips.

"No need to rake up the past," she decided eventually.

I was glad she did.

"Come on then."

I got up and waved her to follow after me.

Five minutes later we set in autopsy bay, sophisticated pices of alien equipment in front of us. It worked. We settled in a chair and starred at the slowly rising scale. Gwen was nearly sitting on my lap. You see, we grew on each other lately. Enough for me to know the colour of her lingerie and for her to master the art of tying my tie. I asked myself not for the first time when it ceased to be something I would have been worried about. The answer was - of course – somewhere in the mist of last three months. You see our workplace got invaded by overgrown pepper pot, which incidentally triggered a timelock created by our late friend. Brilliant woman Tosh was, but after 90 days in each other company me and Gwen were ready to convert into Hinduism if only it would get us out of here.

"What is it doing?" whispered Gwen.

"Why are you whispering?"

"I'm creating atmosphere."

"Right. Program is comparing out genetic material," I whispered back. "I included three way analyses so I wouldn't have to create two separate entries. Plus you and I could be cousins seven times removed. Would be nice to check it out while we are at this."

"Right. Why is it so slow?"

"Torchwood spoiled you, Gwen Cooper."

"I know. Did you find that alien iPod by the way?"

"Nope."

"Pity."

I used the time to appreciate beauty of chipping tiles and watery stains. And to think we only redecorated last year.

With loud beep a window flashed in the middle of the monitor. Program completed. Show the relevant results? Y/N?

"Yes," breathed out Gwen and short battle for mouse happened between us. I decided to be a gentleman and Gwen won.

The results scrolled before us.

"Holy shit!" she said.

What I was looking at was impossible…

"Well, I certainly didn't expect this," I said numbly.

Gwen bit her lips glaring at the monitor.

"I do not understand."

I refrained myself from banal remark. Or maybe it was just shock settling in.

"So you are like my brother," I heard.

I felt dizziness step away. Few taps after I shook my head.

"No. More like..," I skimmed through pages of our DNA test. One got to love alien tech. For once she was much more accurate then anything earth could offer so far. "If I'm reading that right…"

"Ianto?"

"I'm your Uncle. Through the male line."

"Bloody hell!"

And for once there was no disagreement between us.

And after that?

Well -

Five minutes later timelock blew up, the Doctor was ordering us around and Jack laughed on background. Typical Jack. The worst timing ever. At least we didn't start on that bottle of rum. Would look bad on our saviours-of-the-Earth résumés.

Tbc…