Miranda was standing on the Squinty Bridge, staring down the Clyde River. These annual trips to Glasgow were such a nuisance. Archie was growing increasingly eccentric in his old age. Usually, Ianto made these visits but this year, for a reason that no one could determine, Archie had asked to see Miranda. When she'd arrived, Miranda had been surprised that Archie hadn't asked for Jack since the first thing the old Scot had done was to introduce a cheerful young man with bright ginger curls named Lewis Reid. Archie and Lewis then spent hours dragging Miranda through the halls of Torchwood Two pointing out this and that. Lewis could give Ianto Jones a run for his money when it came to Torchwood trivia. The young man had set out afternoon tea for the veteran Torchwood operatives, while she and Archie chatted about 'the good old days' as Archie called them. Miranda had seen the slight tremor to Archie's gnarled hands and he occasionally asked a few questions she'd answered only a few moments ago.
It was clearly time for Archie to step down. For years, Miranda had wondered who would take over Torchwood Two, not that there was much to take over. Sometime around 1950, someone had decided that duplicate reports should be filed off-site and Torchwood Two was born. It was nothing more than a dusty archive hall. Archie was no more than a caretaker and librarian who had now found his own replacement, saving Miranda and Jack the nuisance. The young man was quite suited for the work and eager to please. Miranda had left Torchwood Two optimistic it would be left in capable hands once Archie officially retired. She'd have Archie forward all the particulars to Three for the usual background check and, of course, Fish would have to begin surveillance. All the t's would have to be crossed and the i's dotted, but while Archie was getting on in years, the man was far from incompetent. He would never be casual with his life's work. Miranda trusted his judgement.
She had a lot of time before her train left for Cardiff so she'd decided to walk. As she wandered the streets of Glasgow, Miranda felt a bit sad. She'd known Archie in his prime and he'd been a force back then; eccentric, yes, but still, a force. Despite her and Jack's numerous offers, Archie had no desire to leave his Glasgow hideaway and join Torchwood Three. He would have made a formidable field operative. Now? It seemed that life was slowly eroding away the man Miranda had once known. It was nothing new to her.
She continued to walk, trying to think of the proper way to present things to Jack when she got back to Cardiff. The immortal man was quite fond of the eccentric Scotsman and he would not take his retirement well since retirement would mean a lifetime of memories retconned away in the blink of an eye. She and Jack had no choice really, especially if the Scot's wits were beginning to fail him. Archie was a special case. It was exceedingly rare for a Torchwood operative to live to collect their pension, and nonexistent at Three. It had been One's policy - death or retcon. Even though Jack had severed ties and One was no more, Three still followed many of its protocols. She and Jack would have to have a long discussion about whether or not to bend the rules for Archie. It was really more Jack's decision than hers.
She allowed her thoughts to wander as she walked along. She stopped and leaned over the railing to admire the view down the river. Her thoughts continued to wander and she suddenly wondered if Captain John Hart had ever visited Scotland in his travels on Earth.
A deep pain rattled through her chest.
She and Hart had only shared a single night but that wasn't why she mourned his loss. It wasn't the brevity that upset her. She'd felt a kinship with him, a deep connection that had forged itself without her even realising. It was a connection she hadn't felt in a long time that had stirred deep emotions. She'd realised how deep her feelings ran too late… once he was gone. She hadn't even gotten a chance to treasure the great gift the universe had presented her with. She would forever consider John Hart a spouse - her fourth husband. She remembered how it had been after she'd lost her other mortal spouses. It would be years before she felt right again. It would be decades before she considered taking another lover. And it would be long centuries before the lancing pain in her chest at the thought of Hart's name would lessen. She swallowed past the lump in her throat.
As she walked towards the railway station, once again, she contemplated leaving Torchwood. What she'd told Ianto after her break up with Nora Ashline was true, the best thing for her was to be alone. After a profound loss like Hart's, Miranda usually retreated to one of her homes across the world for sometimes as long as a century. It was something she probably should have done after Nora but that wasn't an option in this modern world. The last time she'd done so was when her second wife had died nearly five hundred years ago. Now, the world moved too quickly. There was too much change. Even a few decades would be inadvisable if not downright deadly but that wasn't the main reason she wasn't retreating.
She had obligations to Torchwood. In the past, she'd had no qualms about leaving at the drop of a hat, but back then, she'd been nothing more than the typical field operative. Now she was Torchwood's physician and second in command. She would have to prepare for her departure well in advance. There were steps to take but that wasn't the main reason either.
Her mind kept telling her that if Captain Hart did return, it would be to Cardiff and to this century. She knew it wasn't healthy for her to linger, pining for the fifty first century time traveller who, in all likelihood, would never return. But still, she waited. She knew that if Hart truly wished it, he could find her. She was immortal after all. She had time. Not only did she have time but so did he. Had he decided in his lifetime to return, he could have done so within moments of his departure. It had been months. The only conclusion Miranda could come to was that he was unwilling or unable to return. But still, she waited.
She boarded the train to Cardiff and found her seat. She settled into it but couldn't dismiss a niggling feeling in the back of her mind. She leaned into the aisle and saw Kiernan sitting a few rows up. She'd become used to her Watcher's presence over the years but this wasn't the first time she'd felt as if she were being watched in Glasgow. Ignoring her instincts was not how Miranda had managed to survive for four millennia. She stood up and walked up the aisle towards the toilet. She waited patiently in line and then took her turn. When she came out, she quickly glanced at everyone in the cabin while she made her way back to her seat. She saw no suspicious behaviour nor nothing amiss. She only recognised Kiernan. She sat down and waited the rest of the train ride.
The feeling hadn't abated by the time she got to Cardiff, nor by the time she'd gotten to the Plass. Whoever was following her was good. Miranda ducked around the water tower and then hopped up onto the paving stone and into the perception filter. She stood there, waiting and watching and that was when she saw the familiar face of Cameron MacDonald.
The young man looked well. His dark hair was longer than when they'd first met. He was also in need of a shave. The stubble was slightly ginger. He was wearing a plain polo shirt and a pair of jeans. The blue eyes were darting around the Plass, searching for her. He'd abandoned any ruse and was walking, looking to his right and left. He was heading straight for the paving stone.
Miranda bent down and pulled the buck knife from her boot. She looked up and down the Plass. It was deserted. For a split second, she pondered killing him. It would be a simple thing, really, for her to just drag him onto the paving stone, slit his throat and be done with it. Miranda squashed the murderous impulse the moment it rose up and then frowned deeply at it. It was not a good sign. She realised that Cameron MacDonald was a solution for her, another wheel in her departure could turn.
The sound of Cameron's trainers on the pavement brought her out of her thoughts. She and Jack had been watching the young doctor ever since he'd left Cardiff. He'd gotten a job at a hospital in Glasgow and was living a fairly quiet, normal life. Fish had been monitoring him since he'd become quite interested in all things Torchwood. After several months, he'd shown no signs of returning to Cardiff or further interest in Torchwood so they'd dropped most of the surveillance. They'd had no idea that Cameron was following them. She wondered what the young Scot had discovered or what he'd seen. True, this could have been his first time following one of them but Cameron had managed to tail Miranda across two countries without being seen. Miranda was impressed and that didn't happen often. Cameron had bit the hook they'd dangled in front of him last year and, albeit a little delayed, Torchwood was reeling him in.