:This is more a series of one-offs presented as an ongoing collection rather than a cohesive story. They'll follow the continuity set by my other Torchwood fics listed below and are based in the Time Agency of the 51st century. Other than that, I'm not sure I want to limit myself too much. I do plan to cover my theories on canon events, such as the creatures that took Gray and the true reasons why Jack's memory was wiped, but I also want to explore time travel in general, so some stories might not have much to do with canon DW/TW at all. I don't own Torchwood, its characters, or the Doctor Who universe, which belong to RTD, the BBC, and as referenced in some of my stories, Marvel. I don't own any of Marvel's characters, either. Kyhl Davies is my creation, although his original identity, Ianto Jones, is not. If anyone is interested in taking Kyhl and using him in one of your stories, I'll probably be perfectly open to such collaboration, so please email me and let me know.:

My Torchwood fics
Deus Ex Machina (not yet published)
Oberon's Wild Night
Tripping the Rift
Kyhl's Story
Archives of the Time Agency

Archives of the Time Agency

The Face of Boe

Kyhl burst into the bedroom, praying he wasn't too late. "Jack?!" He looked around frantically. "Damn it!" He looked in the closet, in the bathroom, and went so far as to drop down and look under the bed. Nothing. Jack was gone again.

He got to his feet, blowing his chestnut bangs out of his eyes, and spun around to drop backwards onto the bed. Why had he gone this time? They hadn't fought. Neither of them was having an affair at the moment. When the Doctor had dropped him off in front of Jack's house only a week of current time had passed, and Jack hadn't been angry or jealous. Kyhl groaned and threw his arms to the sides in frustration. "Why do you do this to me, Jack?" His fingertips brushed against the crisp edge of a piece of paper and he sat up. A cream-colored square lay wedged against the pillow, addressed first with 'Kyhl', then scratched out and replaced with 'Ianto'. He snatched the paper and unfolded it to read.

My Soulmate,

The time has come for you to start a phase of your life I can't be part of, because I've already been part of it. I know it won't be the first time I've been away from you for an extended period of time, but this time is different. This time I don't want to leave, I have to. Don't try to find me, at least the me you know now. I know where the Doctor took you and I know you just got approval from the Prime Minister to start up Earth's Time Agency. You'll be great at the job. I've seen you in action and I know your dedication to saving the timeline from those who would exploit it or trample it carelessly. The Doctor is right to trust you with the secrets of Rift tripping. In the interests of not crossing timelines, I know you'll understand why I can't be there as I am today. I've gone on ahead and will wait for you, if you can still love me after all that will happen in the next decades. As a parting request, please look into recruiting a young soldier from the Boeshane Peninsula, Citizen #1398-76453-98712. Don't let him give you too hard a time.

All my love,

Jack

Kyhl traced his fingers over the signature, his heart already aching. "See you soon, Captain Jack Harkness," he whispered.

He made his way off the boat, squinting at the bright sun that glittered off the white beach sand. He wondered if the suit had been the best choice, almost an inside joke that only Jack would have appreciated, had he been here. Boe was a hole-in-the-wall, a rustic village of aquaculture with an artist colony that had yet to produce a famous name. It had been a budding tourist destination until the Shrieker invasion that had decimated the East Coast population. Boe had been particularly hard hit, several waves of attack wiping out seventy-five percent of the villagers in the past three years. The experienced and veteran soldiers who fought to protect the civilian population had been wiped out almost immediately. The volunteers who replaced them stood even less of a chance of survival. In the past year the meager defense force had been made up of anyone left who was strong enough to wield a gun, mostly children.

Kyhl had watched Jack retreat into himself as news of the attacks reached them in West California. He knew why it was. Jack had been born in Boe, just fourteen years before according to the calendar, but much closer to three thousand years by experience. As a time traveler, Jack had completed a circuit of time, winding up in the 21st century as an accidental immortal, now washed up on the shore of his own birth century and seeing his own history unfold again. His childhood in Boe had been marred by tragedy: the death of his father, the capture of his younger brother by the Shrieker troops, and later his mother's suicide. Over three millennia together Kyhl had been forced to piece together what Jack would reveal to him in bits and scattered references and he still had only a distant and fuzzy mental image of what his lover must have suffered in his young years.

He knew at this point Jack's younger self was two months shy of his fifteenth birthday and a soldier in the Boeshane Resistance, one of those referred to as the Orphan Warriors. He had spent the last six months as a captive of the Shriekers along with another child soldier, during which had been forced to witness the torture and eventual death of the younger boy before being released in the middle of the Boeshane wilderness. He had survived six days alone, injured and weakened from his ordeal, before he was found by a patrol and brought to the village to recover. Kyhl pondered what he himself had been doing at the age of fourteen. Certainly not fighting malicious and sadistic alien raptors. More like rugby matches and piano lessons.

Kyhl shifted his attache case to his other hand, reaching out to catch the arm of a passing woman in a medic's coat. "Excuse me, I'm looking for James J. Harper. Are you the village's doctor?"

The woman stopped, looking over the stranger with the suspicion of a outpost local. "I am. What do you want him for? He's not well yet."

"I'm on official Ministry business." He pulled his identity card out of his pocket, handing it to her for inspection. "Can you take me to him?"

"He was already questioned about his capture." She handed the card back. "What more can you people get out of him for putting him through the pain of reliving it over and over again?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't reveal the nature of my business with him." Kyhl smiled softly, playing off his boyish looks and unthreatening demeanor to try to get past her protectiveness. "I assure you I'm not here to hurt him in any way."

The doctor's stern look melted away. "All right, follow me. I was just on my way to the surgery anyhow."

"Thank you." Kyhl fell into step with her. "What's his physical condition? Will he be up for travel?"

"I'd prefer he got at least another week in bed before that." She sighed. "He's physically mended, for the most part. We may be an outpost, but we do keep some nanonics on hand, or we did. I used them all on him, but after what he'd been through, fixing his body was the least I could do." She looked up at Kyhl sharply as she let them into the clinic. "Emotionally, he's worn out. They're just kids, these soldiers. Most of them have no family left, don't have anything left to lose. He lost his mother last year. Then he got captured trying to provide cover for his best friend when he panicked and ran the wrong way in the last attack and those.. creatures.. did things so horrible, so meaninglessly awful. Forced him to watch them kill his friend in front of him, kill him by inches, listening to his screams and not able to do a damn thing to stop it." She shook her head, putting her hand to the latch of a white door marked Infirmary: No visitors. "And then they just up and leave, vanish from the galaxy, and leave him in the middle of the desert to die. It's all so completely senseless."

"War so often is," Kyhl said softly. "We can just be thankful they're gone for now and do what we can to clean up the carnage they left behind." He took a deep breath as the doctor opened the door, nodded his thanks, and stepped into the small room. Bright Atlantic sunlight filtered through the high window, giving the room an overexposed air, bleaching out the small white dresser and single futon mattress draped in a tan duvet. A wicker chair faced into the corner of the room.

He closed the door behind him softly and set down his attache case. "James?" A tanned hand gripped the arm of the wicker chair, the high back obscuring the rest of the occupant from view. Kyhl walked slowly toward the chair as if approaching a skittish stray animal that might bolt if he was too careless. "James, I'm not here to hurt you. I think what you did was remarkable. You're the strongest young man I've ever heard of."

"Jack." The voice was so young, and quiet, but the inflections were the same.

"What?"

"Jack. It's my middle name. Everyone calls me Jack."

Kyhl stepped around the side of the chair, the light from the window pouring over his shoulder and illuminating the features of the teenager. His hair still held a golden hue, not the dark brown he'd have as an adult. His face, still gaunt from his ordeal, showed the beginnings of a chiseled jaw and square cheekbones. His full lower lip trembled ever so slightly, jutting forward the same way it always would when he was fighting back overwhelming emotions. Kyhl wanted to pull him into a comforting hug born of the familiarity of lovers, but he was a stranger to this boy, and this boy was far too young to share that intimacy. He was also far too young to have lost everything he cared about.

"Jack then. It's a good name. One of my favorites. My name's Kyhl." He smiled softly as the boy looked up at him at last, blue eyes defiant and strong in spite of his youth. "Kyhl Davies."

"You're not with the military. You with Homeworld Security?"

Kyhl shook his head. "I'm under Ministry of Defense, but not anything to do with any of that. I'm starting up a completely new agency. One that will answer only to the Prime Minister."

Jack turned in his chair, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Like Black Ops?"

"No. Something completely new." Kyhl knelt next to the chair. "It will require undercover work, and I need people who can think on their feet, keep their heads, and take care of themselves without support if the situation calls for it."

Jack looked away, his eyes filling with an emptiness that didn't belong in the face of someone so young. "Then go look for them. I don't want to go anywhere."

Kyhl reached out, touching the boy's hair softly. Jack recoiled from the touch, his eyes flashing a moment of fear before they filled with anger. "Leave me alone!"

Kyhl shook his head, stroking Jack's hair again. "You can't hide in here. There's a whole world out there that needs you, still. A whole life ahead of you that you can't even imagine."

Jack trembled, but didn't pull away. "Nobody needs me."

"I do." Kyhl smiled gently. "Will you come with me just once, and the minute you tell me you want to come home, I'll bring you right back here?"

Jack's entire body stiffened. "Why? Why should I go anywhere with you? I don't even know you."

"Because I can show you something so amazing you'll find a reason to keep living. And if you don't come with me, you'll wonder forever what you gave up." Kyhl stood, holding out his hand. "So what will it be? I promise you, I won't let anything happen to you."

Jack stared at the hand. Kyhl kept his grey eyes fixed on Jack's blue ones, watching as the boy struggled with his crippling trauma. It seemed forever that they stayed in their relative positions before Jack laid his hand in Kyhl's, pulling himself up to his feet, his grip tightening until he was clinging to him. Kyhl pulled him close, wrapping a protective arm around him, reaching around with his other hand to open the leather covering to his wrist strap, exposing the interface board embedded in it. He pushed the activation key, tendrils of golden and red light erupting around them.

"What's happening?" Jack looked up at him, wary, but not afraid.

"We're going to trip the Rift." Kyhl stepped back, allowing the light to draw him in, holding Jack tight to keep them together. He felt Jack grab onto him desperately as the Rift swallowed them, seeming to pull at them as if it would rip them apart. A moment before the sensation became unbearable, it was over. The Rift energy retreated, leaving them standing on solid ground once more.

Jack pushed away from Kyhl, shaking like a leaf. "What was that?! You said you wouldn't let anything happen!"

"I didn't know how to prepare you other than just taking you into it. Sorry."

"Well next time figure out a way!" Jack stopped, looking around them, his jaw dropping. "This isn't.. Boe."

"Nope."

"Where are we?"

"Morgan Arcade in Cardiff City Centre. Two thousand and eight. We need to buy some clothes." Kyhl turned for a shop.

Jack caught onto his sleeve, looking in panic at the number of people walking past them. "Two thousand and eight what? Why are there so many people?"

"The year two thousand and eight. Actually, it's a rather light crowd considering. Usually I would prefer to arrive at night, when it's easier to just steal some clothes in time to fit in, but fortunately, I have access to funds here."

Jack furrowed his brow. "The year? Are you crazy? That's.. more than three thousand years ago. We can't just be three thousand years ago."

"I can." Kyhl quickly picked out outfits for both of them, holding up a shirt to Jack's chest. "And since you're with me, you can, too. It's not your favorite shade of blue, but what do you think?"

Jack blinked, shaking his head. "It's fine. Because it's not happening. How can we have traveled through time?"

Kyhl handed the clothes to Jack. "I'll explain in a bit. Right now I need to hit the cash machine."

"What's a cash machine? What are you going to hit it with? Kyhl?" Jack trailed off as Kyhl stepped up to an ATM, using his wrist strap to interface with the network and withdraw £300. "What are you going to do with those drawings?"

"It's one of the accepted forms of transaction in this period. They're still transitioning to a virtual accounts system and cash doesn't leave a trail for anyone to track. That's one of the things you need to learn. Use non-electronic means of barter whenever possible."

Jack's brow knitted. "You can trade drawings for clothes?"

"Notes. They're called pound notes, or pounds, or quid, and they're printed by the government with primitive but relatively effective anti-counterfeiting measures. We have to hurry. We don't want to be here when Torchwood shows up." Kyhl took the clothes and carried them to the sales counter, Jack dutifully following, too stunned by his surroundings to put up a fight.

Kyhl paid for the clothes, flashing his disarming smile at the clerk. "Mind if we put these on now? You're a doll." The American accent helped deflect questions regarding his 51st century fashion style, the clerk breaking into a smile. He gave the girl a wink and handed Jack the bag with his clothes in it, turning him for the changing rooms. "Go in there and put these on. Stick what you're wearing now in the bag, alright?" He gave him an encouraging push toward a stall, then stepped into the one next to him, changing into a pair of jeans and a touristy Welsh flag hoodie. "Jack? You doing okay?" he called as he folded his suit, stowing it in the shopping bag.

"My pants won't latch. There's something wrong with the magnestrip."

Kyhl bit back a laugh. Zippers had been phased out of clothing in the 25th century, so of course they would be completely outside of Jack's experience. "It's a different kind of fastener. Push the button through the slot in the top and then pull up the small metal tab."

"What?"

Kyhl stepped out of his stall, slipping behind the curtain into Jack's. "Need some help?"

Jack looked up with a blush, far more from embarrassment than modesty. "Yeah, please?"

Kyhl zipped up the teenager's jeans, then held up the long-sleeved tee with the Hard Rock Cafe logo. "At least these aren't much different, right?"

Jack gave him a look of pure relief and pulled on the shirt. "Why are the colors so garish?"

Kyhl shrugged. "People in this era aren't too interested in harmonizing with the natural environment. They like to contain nature inside parks and surround them with highly inorganic structures."

"... That doesn't make sense. Why would they want to live like that?"

Kyhl laughed, leading the way out of the changing rooms. "You'll find there's a lot of things that don't make sense in the past. It took a long time for society to evolve to the point you're used to. The important thing is to practice tolerance and respect toward those with primitive understanding of our place in the universe. After all, these people don't even realize how many other civilizations and races exist out there in the stars."

"How can they not know? I may not know much about history, but I do know humans weren't even the first civilization on this planet, and we're still a new race by galactic standards. And that's in the 51st century."

"Exactly. New race. We're like children. You don't expect children to know as much as you do, right?"

"No, of course not."

"And you don't think them horrible for being ignorant, do you?"

"No. They learn and grow with time."

"Same thing with societies. They struggle, they make mistakes, they fall, they get up again, they learn, they evolve. Keep that in mind and don't judge them too harshly." Kyhl looked back over his shoulder, spotting a group of black-clad men and women striding purposefully down the middle of the arcade. "Torchwood. Always quick."

"Who?" Jack oofed as Kyhl grabbed his arm and pulled him inside a shop, taking cover behind a display of comic books. "What are we hiding from? Are they enemies?"

"No, they're not. They're a group of people who deal with everything that comes through the Rift. They wouldn't hurt us, but it would complicate things if we ran into them." He watched around the side of the display as one of the team, dressed in a tailored suit that set him apart from his more casually clad allies, stopped in front of the shop, his back to the door as he searched the passersby for anything unusual. Jack squeezed under him to see what was going on. Another man, wearing a dark blue RAF great coat from World War II, walked up to the suited man, talking to him in a quiet voice.

"Why aren't they leaving?" Jack whispered tensely. "What happens if they catch us?" He gripped the edge of the display, not realizing how flimsy the structure was. The cardboard shifted, then slid forward, toppling.

"Shit!" Kyhl pulled Jack against his chest protectively as the man in the great coat looked straight at him, then dropped blue eyes to his young companion. The color drained from the man's face and his eyes snapped back to Kyhl's. Kyhl raised his brows, desperately urging the man to move on. The younger man in the suit started to turn to see what his partner was looking at, but the man in the great coat grabbed him quickly by the elbow, directing his attention across the street with a point. Kyhl mouthed a quick Thank you, Jack. Without wasting another moment he took young Jack's hand, running for the exit at the back of the store.

Once outside again he let go of the boy, doubling over to catch his breath. "Whew! That was a close one."

"I don't get it. Why did we have to run from them? That man helped us, didn't he?"

Kyhl nodded. "Not the first time he's saved my ass. I almost crossed my own timeline there."

"What do you mean?"

Kyhl ruffled Jack's hair fondly. "The man in the suit was me, three thousand years ago. A past me. If I'd turned and seen myself and recognized my own face, it might have contaminated my own history. I might have made different choices, knowing I'd be around in the future, and then I might not have because time isn't set in stone. Do you understand?"

Jack frowned in thought. "You mean a paradox?"

"Exactly. That's what the agency I'm creating is all about. Fixing the holes in the timeline, preventing paradoxes. Just like there's been alien invasions to Earth that have to be defended against, there's also been time invasions, and they're equally threatening to our future."

"But if we're time traveling, aren't we invading?"

Kyhl grinned. "You catch on quick. If it weren't for others who were trampling the timeline, I'd say we should keep out of it. But they are in it already and it's already contaminated. If we don't go back and try to fix what we can, the contaminations will spread. The Rift we travel in is a weak point in time and space and it should be fairly stable. Because of the time invasions, it's spreading and cracking all over the planet and throughout the past. It used to be that groups like Torchwood could just catch what slipped through the Rift and try to keep it from causing trouble, but that's not working anymore. If we don't start fixing the fractures, the whole thing is going to roll up like a ball of string and wind up in such a knot the whole planet will be in a time loop."

Jack nodded slowly. "Okay, I think I get it. You fix the things that went wrong in the past."

Kyhl nodded. "The things that happened that weren't supposed to, the things that were supposed to that failed to happen. The Time Agency will trace back through the Rift fractures and fix them. Sort of temporal plumbing."

"Can you help me go back and save my brother?" Jack's lip started to tremble again.

Kyhl swallowed hard, feeling his heart drop. "No. I'm sorry, Jack."

Jack's features hardened in anger. "Then what good is it?! If there was ever anything that wasn't supposed to happen, it was that!" Tears welled up in his blue eyes. "He wasn't supposed to get taken! Take me there and just let me save him!" He sobbed, lunging into Kyhl, swinging his fists in a primal need to strike out against the pain and rage that flooded over him.

Kyhl only partially blocked the ineffective blows, waiting for the boy's outburst to subside to the point where he could catch his arms and hold him. "I'm sorry, Jack. If I could do it I would." He hugged the boy, kissing his hair as he went limp in his arms. "I've tried so many times, but I can't do it. It's the Shriekers. Something about them. The Rift won't open into the time when they invaded. We can't go to that time."

"Then leave me here," Jack said hopelessly. "There's nothing left for me, nobody left for me."

Kyhl placed his hand under Jack's chin, lifting his face to look into his eyes. "I don't have anyone left, either. We can be there for each other." He wiped the boy's tears with his thumb. "Trust me, there is a life past the pain. Join me and I'll help you get there."

Jack sagged against Kyhl's chest, a great sigh shuddering his entire body as he grasped the man's shirt to cling to him. "I trust you, Kyhl," he mumbled in emotional exhaustion. "Sign me up."