Okay. I know what you're thinking. Actually, I don't, I'm not Shade after all, but I can guess. I've turned over a new leaf (I hope). This story's gonna be around for a while (:

BEGIN!

Day 3.

The third day of this awful catastrophe, and Jerry O'Shea had finally made his decision. Torchwood could bluff all they liked about how in control they were, but it was obvious to him, at least, that everything was falling apart. He'd heard a rumour that Jack Harkness had been blown up. He remembered wincing when he heard. But nobody had winced harder than Shade. When Jerry had asked him why he had such an extreme reaction to it, when he knew that the Captain wasn't dead, the man had clammed up completely. Again. Jerry sighed gustily. There was no telling what his little protégé was thinking at the best of times, and it was a little disturbing since Jerry knew that Shade could definitely hear everything he was thinking. That was the thing about working with Shade. It was a bit of a gamble whether he'd take a shine to you, and if he didn't...Well, three of his previous partners had died in mysterious circumstances. Jerry, though, was a little different. An ex-Army sergeant, he refused to be cowed by a twenty-year-old with ambition bigger than he was. They'd come to uneasy, respectful partnership at first, then for no apparent reason, Shade had come in one morning, set a (frankly, delicious) breakfast on his desk and smiled his odd, lopsided grin. Jerry had smiled back uncertainly, complimented his cooking, and gotten on well with Shade from that day on.

Nobody knew Shade's real name. He was sort of 'on loan' from his department, but Jerry had heard that nobody there knew who he was either, that some old civil servant had gotten him the job and then left him to it. Well, fair enough. Shade was one of their best operative, even if the ay he worked was a little odd. Shade had a gun, all right, and he knew how to use it, but he rarely did. Shade preferred knives. He'd told Jerry once that just because stuff is out of date doesn't mean it's like blasphemy to use it. An old Japanese master had taught the kid, but that had been all Jerry could get from anywhere until yesterday. He'd been looking for a way to convince Shade that this Torchwood idea was a good one. It wasn't Shade's fault that he didn't believe him, not really. Jerry was infamous around the MI5 building for his schemes, which failed spectacularly more often than not. It was a tribute to how well Jerry and Shade worked together that neither were dead yet. Shade might have some strange weapons, including the katana he kept strapped to his back, but he was unnaturally quick and strong for somebody of his height and build. Having never worked with Shade's department before, Jerry had once asked him if his skills were normal.

Shade had laughed.

But now, he had some leverage with his partner. It turned out that Shade's sensei had had a family after all. Jerry had only had word of mouth to go on, but the plan had worked out quite nicely, for once:

Jerry rapped smartly on the door, three times, as he always did. He saw Shade frantically swing is legs down off his desk and kick abandoned paperwork all over the floor of his office. No doubt he thought that Maria was knocking. Both she and Jerry knocked in the same way, as strange as it sounds, and shade never thought to 'scan' them as he called it. It was a respect thing, apparently. Or maybe it was that Jerry and Maria knew just how similar their mannerisms were, and they knew about Shade's 'skills' as well. If he was suddenly able to tell them apart, he'd be in for a bollocking.

Jerry walked in without an invitation to do so. Shade was a cranky, arrogant, snarky son of a bitch, but he weirdly didn't mind people just walking into his office. Jerry and Maria were the only people who knocked, and consequently the only people he was afraid of. Well, he was afraid of Jerry's cooking, and his wild plans, anyway. Maria was the only person alive who actually scared Shade. A stern, middle aged woman, she ran the department with an iron fist, and had threatened Shade more times than anybody else still breathing. Shade was terrified of her for no discernable reason, since she could have been dispatched easily, but to Jerry it seemed like the dark man was actually quite fond of her. Laughing softly, Jerry pushed into the office, gingerly picking his way through the mini snowfall of letters and forms that Shade had swept off the desk in his attempts to look hardworking.

"Oh," Shade breathed, obviously relieved. "What do you want?"

Jerry wasn't offended in the least, that kind of reply was typical Shade. He completely understood manners, he was flawlessly polite and charming to Maria, who didn't buy any of it, but wouldn't stand for anything less than perfect manners. For people not so picky, Shade reserved his most dismissive tones. He was so arrogant at times, but he had earned it: out of the entire department, he was their best. Jerry's 'sources' had heard a whisper that Shade had been transferred because he was lacking in some sort of skill that his old department required, but Jerry couldn't work out for the life of him what it was.

"Shade," ventured Jerry carefully, knowing he was treading on thin ice here. Shade hated to hear or talk about anything from his past, but Jerry was hoping that, just this once, he'd hear him out. "Your sensei, what was his name?"

Shade's eyes narrowed, and Jerry winced. He'd been caught trying to be too subtle, and in Shade's books that was too close to lying. Jerry was proved right when Shade rose fluidly to his feet and stared the older man down, voice like crackling lightning.

"Don't bullshit me Jerry. I told you this last week. What's your game?"

Jerry swallowed and straightened his spine. "His granddaughter. Toshiko, I believe."

Shade's eyes narrowed even further, and Jerry knew he had to get this over with as quickly as possible. "Yes?" his partner purred.

"She worked at Torchwood," Jerry said slowly, picking his words carefully.

Shade flapped a hand at him, the tension easing as he voiced a familiar line. "Don't speak slow to me Jerry, I'm not some sort of retard."

Jerry smiled a little. "So, will you do it now?"

Shade smiled as well, a pearly white tooth slipped threateningly over the pale skin below the man's full red lips. It couldn't be denied that Shade was very attractive, but to the frustration of a good chunk of the people in the department, he refused to sleep around, claiming to already have a boyfriend, though nobody had ever seen him. "Do what,Jerry?"

Jerry's grin widened. Cat and mouse it was, then. "Don't speak to me innocent Shade. I'm not soe sort of retard."

You are though, if you think I'm going to go there." Shade said casually, inspecting a broken nail and sighing dramatically.

"Why not?"

"It seems our government is not fond of those of us unlucky enough not to die."

Jerry raised a black eyebrow peppered with grey.

"THEY BLEW HIM UP!" snarled the man across from him, his green eyes flashing dangerously. Jerry stepped back in shock, hands lifted up to protect his face as Shade took a threatening step towards him. "THEY BLEW HIM UP AND PUT HIM IN CONCRETE!"

Shade seemed to come back to himself and his body trembled delicately with restraint as he stepped back, away from his obviously terrified friend. Jerry was backed up against the wall, but he kept his head. This wasn't the first time Shade had refused a mission. And whenever Shade didn't get his way, the tantrums that followed were infamously explosive and violent. And this story of the immortal with a bomb in his liver had struck a nerve within the man. Jerry knew little about Shade's abilities compared to Maria, who seemed to know everything. But he did know that Shade could not die, was faster and stronger than any human he knew and that he knew what people were thinking. But once Maria had briefed him on these main traits, Jerry's sharp eyes picked out other little details of Shade's behaviour. Like how he only picked at food, even those he professed to love. And he came into the office in the afternoon and left in the early hours, without incurring Maria's wrath. It was peculiar, to say the least.

"Shade. You will accept." The icy cold tones of their boss rag through the office. Both men froze, and Maria stepped calmly through the chaos. Shade nodded stiffly, hating it but completely unable to refuse. Her blue eyes pierced Shade's green ones, and he visibly cringed, while Jerry smirked over the diminutive woman's shoulder. Shade glowered imperceptibly, but was distracted by their boss speaking again. "Clean up this mess. And in the future," her eyes swept swiftly around the enclosed space before fixing on Shade again.

"Please, try not to be so childish."

With those words, she strode back out of the door and shut it quietly and politely. Both men let out an explosive sigh of relief and Shade shook his head in disbelief. "She didn't knock!" he muttered.

Jerry snorted with laughter and mocked the other's stiff nod. "You are so whipped!" he crowed, snapping his arm like a man with a whip and whispering, "Wapoosh!"

Shade scowled and turned back to his desk. It was obvious that he was trying not to be provoked. Of course, this kind of attitude never lasted long with Shade. As soon as he reached the desk he scooped up a heavy paperweight like It was piece of paper itself, and flung it hard at Jerry's face. He knew the ex-Army man was certainly capable of catching it. But Jerry was too busy laughing and the ornament smacked into his stomach before he gathered his wits enough. His laughter turned wheezy and he coughed once as the metal thing had winded him quite a bit. Shade sent a satisfied smirk his way Jerry bit the inside of his lip for a second, wondering if what he was going to say would be going too far. If it was, there was a chance Shade would kill him. Jerry shrugged mentally and said it anyway.

"You know Shade, that sort of gratuitous violence is so childish."

Grinning cheekily, Jerry lobbed the paperweight back at his partner and skipped nimbly out of the door. He was pretty quick for a man of his age and build, but he had still only barely closed the wooden door when the paperweight thumped dully on the other side, denting the door.

Jerry smiled at the memory and glanced across to the man walking sullenly by his side. Shade was a short thing, but much like Maria, he managed to pack a lot of scary into that small frame. He was scowling angrily at the cold Cardiff air. He didn't want to be here, he'd nearly been hysterical this morning on the train, muttering again about crazed civil servant who thought it was big and clever to plant bombs in immortals. Jerry was a little worried about the bomb paranoia Shade was exhibiting, but he put it down to it being a new threat. From what he knew, Shade had been shot in various painful places, and stabbed, cut, chopped and scarred more times than Jerry would ever know. But he doubted anybody had ever had the forethought to place a bomb in the dangerous man. For a start, Shade would read your intentions long before you ever carried them out. And if shade knew you were planning some serious shit, it was game over.

Jerry nudged the man and he scowled up at him. "I hate you," said Shade petulantly. But like most little kids, he soon forgot his hate. "Do they know we're coming?"

Jerry cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. "No, actually," he admitted. "I'll call Captain Harkness now." Shade huffed, and Jerry ignored him, concentrating on fishing out his phone.

Of course, being in the secret service, Jerry was pretty clued up on technology, but he input the number deliberately slowly to annoy Shade.

"Hello, Jerry O'Shea here. No, I'm MI5. We've been sent to give you a helping hand as it were..."

Jerry waited patiently as the American voice argued its case on the other end of the line. Shade, though, was not so patient. He didn't like to wait for people he didn't even know futilely try to get them to leave them alone. He pitied this Captain Jack because of his bomb incident, but that didn't mean he'd like him. He respected plenty of people in his department, like Maria, if only for how well she'd manipulated him into this particular mission. But in the whole department, Jerry was the only person he could genuinely call a friend. They hadn't gotten on well at first, but Shade, after a few 'practice' missions to test the man's capability, decided to try to get to know him. He only used a surface scan, barely noticeable, but Shade had picked up many things. Jerry had seen some bad shit in the war in Iraq, and after the entire company under his command was killed in a car bomb, he was forcefully transferred to MI5. Much like Shade himself, he had allowed the job to grow on him, though he'd hated it at first. He had a lovely wife, who Shade had met in person a few times. She liked to keep the rangy man fed, and spoke to him like a son-in-law, which was comforting after he had got used to her attitude. His children were still young, but nice enough all the same. All these things had led Shade to get Jerry breakfast that morning. He liked to cook, and he knew he could do it well. It was one of the few activities he had patience for, which had surprised Jerry at first, since he was infamously impatient.

He exhibited this now by slapping the phone out of Jerry's hand as the American nattered on and on. Shade interrupted irreverently.

"Listen to me you fucking American bastard. Me and my partner are coming over right now to your little warehouse, alright? If we get there and you're gone, I will find you, disembowel you and use your guts for streamers at my godson's birthday party next week, alright? Good, I'm glad we understand each other."

Shade snapped the phone closed and tossed it at Jerry, who caught it rather impressively with his left hand, as his right was still smarting from being smacked by Shade. The older man simply raised an eyebrow and asked, "You have a godson?"

"Mmm," Shade replied distractedly. "His name's Teddy. He turns six next Thursday."