As promised, another story. Posting may be a bit irregular as I'm now on what's supposed to be one of the most work-intensive UK university courses you can do, but I'll try my best.

This is the nearest thing I've ever come to a song-fic, as it's vaguely inspired by Mika's song 'Rain'. I used it as the title because I couldn't think of anything else. If I think of a better one I may change it.

I don't own Mika or any of their song lyrics. I'd far rather own Torchwood. But I don't own that either.

Chapter One

Rain.

It cascaded down through the glow of the streetlamps like the blessing of the gods. The sharp staccato tap-danced across the metal roof, muted and mesmerising, and the world behind the windows blurred.

The cool evening air and the rushing roar of the rain swallowed the complaints of the searchers, apparently hunting in vain. One stopped still and followed the glinting rivulets up with their eyes; up the dirty alley walls, past the faded pub sign and up into the depths of the sky.

I've never seen rain like this before. Not in Cardiff. It's, it's beautiful…

"Oi, Gwen! Stop standing there gawping at the sky and bloody help! I want to find this piece of rift-junk before we all drown!"

Well, I think it's beautiful…

"I don't get it!" That was a different voice, this time half-shouting to be heard. "My scanner says it's here alright, but there's nothing obvious. It's like it's all around us, but we just can't see it!"

"It's the rain."

"What?"

"The rain." Gwen repeated. "Look at it."

They did. Jack nodded his approval. "Yep. That's it alright."

"Is it harmful?" Owen was looking up at the clouds nervously, his hair already plastered to his head.

"Have you dissolved yet? No, I reckon it's harmless. Just take the sample, and then we can get somewhere warm. And dry. I like dry at the moment."

They stood around with their hands tucked deep into their pockets, bending their heads against the rain, as Owen crouched down with a phial. The sound of people could suddenly be heard as the pub door opened and a noisy crowd came out. Nearby, a car pulled to a halt in a spatter of puddles and the sound of slamming doors echoed down the alley.

Jack tilted his head as the noises got closer. "Head them off." he instructed Gwen.

Grumbling, Gwen set off through the puddles, and it wasn't long before the sound of her voice was added to the concoction as well.

"She always says it's police business." Owen commented, carefully screwing on a bottle lid.

"She's used to it." Tosh replied. "Please hurry up."

"Alright, alright. God, woman…"

Gwen had dispersed of the revellers, and was now trying to get rid of the other man.

"This is our house, you see. I've got a right to know what's been happening down that alley. I've got a family here, three young kids – Can't you at least tell me what's going on?"

Gwen could see the afore-mentioned family hurrying through a nearby doorway, out of the rain, and wished she could follow them. "No, I'm sorry, this is police business, we can't release a statement to the public until…"

"It's doesn't say police on the car. Torchwood – is that a special branch, or something? What's down there? Is it drugs? Is this some kind of forensics team?"

Gwen cursed whichever genius had designed the SUV. "Look…"

There were footsteps behind her, followed by the sound of the SUV's doors being unlocked: "... just don't go down there, ok?"

. . . .

"Coffee? Hot chocolate? Dry coats? Towels…?"

"All of them please, Ianto, and I'm afraid the SUV's a little damp too." Jack threw himself down on the sofa, unintentionally soaking it.

"What an evening." Owen moaned.

"What happened? Anything I wouldn't want to miss?"

"Oh, nothing much." Owen accepted his steaming cup of coffee without a word of thanks. "We had a really great time standing around in alien rain getting cold, wet and miserable and then we had to get out and change the bloody tyres halfway back just as we'd started to dry off…"

"And you shut your hand in the door, remember?"

"Yeah, I do remember, funnily enough, Tosh." Owen rubbed his hand in the vague hope it would win him some sympathy. It didn't. "But you did take us down a 'short-cut' that then sent us off on diversions half the way round Cardiff."

"There weren't any roadworks there last time I went that way..."

Night closed in, the arguments died down and the Hub steadily became quiet and empty. One small bottle lay deserted on the side, sparkling gently underneath the security lights.

But as the rainwater drains away, down through the sewers, deep below the city in the dark tunnels where nothing but weevils can see, something is still glimmering.