Disclaimer: i don't own any of the characters, setting, quotes, anything recognisable.

"We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams.

Jeremy Irons

Lumos

The faint glow of slender vine wood illuminated faint frown lines of the young woman. Her russet locks stubbornly escaping from the tight ponytail she had coaxed it into that morning. Frustrated she muttered to herself as the glow stretched around the clearing. It was midnight and as expected the Millennium centre stood still and ever-watching as it always seemed to. Refusing to indulge its secrets to the increasingly irritated figure before it.

Hermione Granger once again paced around the large pillar structure, her simple black heels clicking with each step on the pavement. Every few seconds her routine would be interrupted as she would lean down to inspect a dent in the sidewalk closer, daring it to spill its knowledge under her calculating glare.

Onlookers in the window would disregard her peculiar behaviour, not shocked at the interestingly shaped torch she seemed to hold, nor her obsession with the ground. That's not to say they were completely oblivious, a brave security guard amongst them had originally approached one week ago when she first appeared. His nosy colleagues had questioned him curiously after he had spent a good twenty minutes deep in conversation with the woman. Disappointingly their queries had for some reason always being averted to the point they chose to ignore any irregularities with feeble excuses.

It was this familiarity within the night community and Hermione that then allowed her confidence to resort to less realistic methods of searching, she already regretted having to confound the curious security guard and no longer wanted to stay any longer. Retrieving a dark blue walnut sized object from her winter coat while pressing her wand tip to a symbol on its flat face. On closer inspection watchers would realise the resemblance of the triangle symbol with a circle within it as identical to the dark ink marring her inner left wrist. A Latin word was carried from her chilled lips along with winter wind, drawing a gold film of light from her wand to wrap around the stone. Hermione anticipated with a sharp intake of breath for something, anything different. Her excitement increasing as the gold did not dissipate as it had every evening since she arrived, instead deepening in hue until it resembled a bronze casing of the stone.

Hermione couldn't accept that it would be finally over, any second and she would no longer need to search for her lost possession. She would be able to finally return it to its rightful owners and avoid the humiliation of her carelessness. A slightly sour whisper in her mind recited Murphy 's Law but just this moment she ignored her logical side. The side informing her of the inability to summon such a powerful object proved with her past failures of this same spell. Just one second. In just one second the concrete in front of her also decided to participate in the strange acts of the evening as it parted to reveal the crisp image of a cloaked figure.

Hermione's mouth twitched in recognition at the statuesque anger sketched into his face, a face she was all too familiar with, overlooking the severe drop in her stomach as her concentration slipped and her wand dimmed at the disruption.

"Captain" a bow of the head acknowledgment, habit for her, apprehensive for him.

"Alien" the slight uncertainty in his accusation mixed with fury was too much for her and a large grin spilled onto her face, predictable. Everything from his neatly cut ebony hair to his trademark vintage floor length coat was typical for him.

"You know I can't do nothing, especially after you insulted me so" Hermione nonchalantly commented depositing the now dull stone inside her coat, never once removing her aimed wand despite the movement.

Confusion flickered across his eyes before a mask of determined emotions effectively hid it. This was the Captain Jack Harkness she was comfortable with, strong without a sense of doubt, any insecurity hidden behind a well practised façade. Amusement danced in her eyes as she noticed the slight defensive differences in his posture, she could always read him, not through his eyes as a lover would, but through her expertise with his subtle body language. A tilt of his chin dared her to give him a reason to attack, the tightening of his jaw signalled the readiness of his body to leap and tackle her at any moment. Too bad he didn't realise she was teasing.

When silence greeted her she continued to stir, resisting recognising her failure with further distracting conversation.

"Even after everything I've done you get around quite a lot Cap'n don't you?" the minor wiggle of her eyebrows proved to amplify his defensive stance whilst she struggled to contain her chuckles.

"I had of course thought all the chasing of those, what did you nickname them again? Ah – Weevils! Bloody pathetic name if you want my opinion, but you never did." A pause in her rant was the only indication of the underlying meaning in that statement only deepening his hidden bewilderment.

"you would think all after all the times you caught them, and all the mess you left behind, that they would get the point and stop exploring residential areas meaningless work for the both of us. Never were smart ones, though there is an uncanny connection when looking into something so feral and unrestrained, something that questions the very core of beliefs we've grown up on. If you believe in something such as that wild creature what's to say there isn't other such examples that question our ideologies in the same way like say... magic?" looking up from her inspection of her wand to analyses his reaction to that statement before returning to running her hand along the scarcely noticeable scratches in her wand with slightly dimmer eyes.

"I guess I should be proud you don't realise, no one wants to know their simple memory charm could be overcome so easily. Those words once convinced you but I suppose they've been worn out." A helpless chuckle ended her tirade dismally trying to regain her previous proud image.

Silence engulfed the pair as Hermione's words brought different meanings to each of them. To Hermione it was another letdown to add to the night. To the Captain the words were replaying as if recorded through his focused mind. She knew him, which could either mean she was a valuable and trusted ally or a deadly enemy. She also mentioned memory altering. It had been a side comment but it was the Captains observations for such accidental remarks that added to his mysterious nature. It was this realisation that tipped the scales, brushing too close to previous memories that had once been stolen from him. Unfortunately for Hermione the rational side of Jack took over with a twitch of his right eye as he raised his left hand, white knuckles of a hand firmly clutched upon the cool black metal of a seemingly deformed gun, his wariness of the young women increasing with her lack of reaction to the intimidating weapon.

"Now normally I would gladly continue a witty banter with such a fine young women, but you curious thing," the playful tone she was familiar with sharply reversed to a threatening manner laced with foreign malice, "But I do not take modifications to my person lightly, nor those made by a sad excuse for an intruder brandishing a stick."

Hermione knew somewhere the question of her probing around their headquarters would enter particularly with the use of her wand that she knew they would label a weapon, but it was the barely restrained loathing behind the tightly polite words that crushed her feelings. She knew she should expect such a reaction, she had forgotton how strongly he felt about people tinkering with his mind without him knowing. Each time she 'met' him there was always a moment his untrusting nature would cause him to raise his otherworldly technology against her, but it was their friendship, no matter how subconscious to him, that always prevented him.

It was typical that the day her routine changed with a breakthrough in her trail that it wouldn't be the only routine broken. Typical, which with her prolonged silence, provoking words and aiming of her wand once again to reaffirm the memory charms towards her friend that he was losing control on his emotions and reactions. Typical that after surviving the war of her century she would be in this situation no matter how confident she was safe with him.

Typical that this time was different.

This time he shot.

AN: A first attempt, at any story willingly in fact, hopefully it will end up somewhere - sorry but updates may be a bit slow at first before i can decide where its going if you choose to stick with it.

Thanks

Annapelle