Now more commonly known as "Alfie", baby Stormaggedon grew to be an intelligent, inquisitive child. Although his interests ranged widely, the sciences were always his best subjects. Craig did his best to encourage his son, despite repeated assertions that he didn't know where Alfie got those brains from.
He was briefly bullied in boarding school for his apparent closeness to his parents- Alfie's father had cried as he saw his son off, in the most embarrassing fashion imaginable. Briefly being the important word in that sentence. Never a bully himself, Alfie proved more than capable of commanding a certain respect from the more bellicose of his schoolmates, both physically and intellectually. Still, his teachers noted that, where possible, he seemed to prefer to play the role of peacemaker: something which worked in Alfie's favour on those occasions when he came before them bruised and muddied with battle.
Alfie remained in the top ranks of his class for the various sciences and mathematics, eventually choosing to specialise in physics. His final project at A-level concerned the gravity of stars. Later, he would develop this into his thesis at university. (He also developed an appreciation of poetry, finding the metaphysical poets particularly diverting during his later teens).
He went to Oxford, having found the grammatical laxity of many of the Cambridge staff and students he had met difficult to simply shrug off. Though he was studying for a BSc, he enjoyed considerable success with the various dramatic societies, demonstrating great versatility in creating diverse, believable characters on stage.
In his third year he was approached by MI5 and, welcoming the opportunities offered by a life in the service, became an exemplary agent, swiftly earning himself a promotion to fieldwork with MI6.
He was headhunted by UNIT following an operation in which a suspected international terrorist turned out to possess a very definitely extra-terrestrial "guard dog". The official report on his performance stated that Owens "Showed few signs of shock" and "was very quick to accept the evidence of his eyes regarding the existence of such an impossible creature." He also "attempted communication with the beast, firing only when hostility was definitely established."- a trait which boded well for a career in a service which at least theoretically accepted the possibility benign extra-terrestrials, even if many of its members seldom put this theory into practice. They were also impressed by Alf's avoidance of the creature's sixteen claws and three-foot tongue in order to put a bullet in, as it turned out, its windpipe.
Alf Owens was a credit to UNIT, both in the ranks and as an undercover agent. He formed part of the honour guard at Major Nutting's funeral only twenty months after enlisting. Tipped to be a captain before his third year was out (especially given the death toll of a small top-secret war with some alien would-be colonists attempting to establish their settlement off the coast of Scotland), his future seemed assured.
Until, that is, Alf and his team came up against a Weeping Angel. It was alone, injured. A weak scavenger. Alf shot it in the face. His action saved his team, but the resulting temporal discharge catapulted Alf thirty years into the past. Loath to make contact with UNIT for fear of upsetting the natural passage of time, he did his best to lie low, taking cash-in-hand work to avoid having to provide any official identification (while on the way to forging appropriate id, obviously. He hadn't forgotten all his old Service tricks yet). Less than a year in, however, he attracted the attention of a certain Agent Davis, of the organisation known only as "Torchwood". A slightly censored re-telling of his story later, Alf had a job.
Through Torchwood, Alf could create a new identity for himself. He took the surname "Pennyworth" as a reminder of some of the nicknames he had earned during his time in the more official services. It was a ticket to a future, but also a lifeline to his past.
His experience in MI6 and UNIT served him well, and Alfie P. rose quickly through the organisation, all the while quietly, unobtrusively, and above all efficiently ensuring that many possible leads on the Doctor came to nothing.
He was in Spain at the time of the… incident at Canary Wharf. Somewhere deep inside, little Stormaggedon had wanted to do what Alf did there for a long, long time. Let's just say he was the real reason Donna didn't meet any Cybermen.
Although he was aware of the new Torchwood attempting to rise from the ashes of the old order, he disapproved of the man Harkness, and the ethos of his new order. There was something distinctly un-British in its attitude to the forces of law and government, both of which Alfie had treated with respect, if not with complete obedience, all his life. Besides, he wasn't sure how many more years of good service he could expect from his seemingly inexorably aging body. It was time to move on, while he was still fit and strong, able to leave with dignity. In any case, Britain, while beautiful, was not the place for Alf any longer. He had no desire to live through the years of his youth again.
In America he found a land whose citizens asked few questions concerning a man's background, and where a gentleman of his impeccable and obvious Englishness would have little difficulty finding employment in the services of the rich, where he was deemed to add a touch of class to the lives of those who desired to give such an impression.
He found himself sufficiently in demand that he could easily leave any employer who dissatisfied him, fully confident of finding another position. After brief stays in the employ of various businessmen, he found the first man who, in the first week of Alf's time with him, never once referred to him as "Jeeves". Thus began 's long years as retainer to the Wayne family of Gotham City.
All said and done, Alfred was always proudest of the work he did there.