All hail the magnificent Tantopat for being so unbelievably amazing as to Beta Read my work and make sure it isn't a complete mess! So without further ado I dedicate this One-Shot to you oh Amazing One!

As for this story, just an idea I had about Jack perhaps knowing Gwyneth, the maid Eve Myles played in Doctor Who 'The Unquiet Dead', he has been in Cardiff for a while...In any case just something that wouldn't leave me alone.

Again thank you so much Tantopat! Without you this just wouldn't be what it is now!

Continuance

She had caught his eye the moment she had stepped onto the street. Dark hair, long though he couldn't be sure with it pulled up the way it was, light eyes, round face. She was a maid, he could tell from her uniform and soft manner, picking up supplies for the master or mistress of the house. When he asked around he had discovered that she worked for the owner of a Funeral Home; he had thought it an unusual job for her, considering what he had heard of her personality.

The second time he had seen her she had been looking into a shop window at a necklace; silver, pretty. He had come up behind her and managed to make her jump when he spoke. "That's a lovely piece, nicely crafted." She turned quickly to look at him, surprise evident in her blushing face. "Not the prettiest thing I've ever seen though…" Surprised, she tilted her head to the side in confusion.

"Oh? What could possibly as pretty as that locket in there?" He smiled, trying not to laugh when she looked away.

"Well, there's you…" She looked up at him, so fast he thought she just might get whiplash from the movement. If she wasn't red before, she could put a tomato to shame in that instance. He did let out a small chuckle that time. "You look surprised to hear that."

"S-Sir…I, you're quite the flatterer sir, quite. Fillin' a girl's head up with things that ain't true…" She looked away and back at the locket on display. It truly was a beautiful thing, silver and polished. He wouldn't have been surprised to find out that it was the only one like it in existence. Turning to her, he held out his hand.

"The name's Harkness, Captain Jack Harkness. Any chance you'd tell a flatterer like myself the name of such a beautiful woman like yourself?" The blush had died, she had been quick to catch on to his ways, and she had only smiled at him as she uncertainly gave him her hand. He had kissed the back of the small thing, which had derived a small blush from her, and smiled.

"Gwyneth, Sir, Gwyneth Cooper." He allowed her to have her hand back and watched as she shifted from foot to foot nervously; a glance over her shoulder had her speaking once more. "I should really be going sir, Mr. Sneed is in need of his supplies…"

"Mr. Sneed? The Funeral director?" She nodded, checking over the goods she had bought and placed in the basket she had with her.

"From what I've heard he's not the most patient of men, even less so when it comes to you…" She nodded absentmindedly, allowing her words to leave her before she could think.

"So true, sometimes I think he only has me around to shout at…" She looked up at him, suddenly horrified.

"Oh, oh, sir I didn't mean that, honest I didn't mean that!" She nearly dropped her basket in her fear and he gently set a hand on her shoulder to calm her, giving her a reassuring laugh.

"Don't worry about it, I've had plenty of bosses like that myself. Trust me, you don't have to worry about anything you say to me getting around." She nodded, relieved, and gave him a small smile. A call from an older man in the distance and she was scurrying away into the crowd as he watched her.

The third time he had seen her, she had been given the day off.

Mr. Sneed had gone to visit a friend and with no 'stiffs to muck about with' he had allowed her to do as she pleased with the day. He had found out as soon as it had happened and had managed to 'run into her' on the street. She was out of her uniform, dressed in a simple blue dress. No more than what she could afford he knew, but beautiful on her all the same. Or perhaps it was just her that was beautiful, he wasn't entirely sure.

Just as before he had caught her staring at that locket in the window, its price just a bit too high for anyone to buy it. This time, however, she was on to him. "Good day to you Captain Harkness, it's nice to see you again." He didn't let her see his surprise at being caught creeping up on her. Instead he managed the most charming smile he could for her.

"Better since I ran into you." She didn't even tint at the comment and he nodded to the locket. "I see that your eye has been caught by something familiar. I'm going to take a wild guess and say that you're interested in it." She smiled at him, fidgeting with her hands for a moment.

"Y-yes…I…" She looked down at her feet for a moment before answering him. "My mother had one similar to it…My aunt sold it when she and my father died." The smile on his face softened and he glanced at the silver piece in the window. She shook her head suddenly. "Look at me, going on about somethin' that happened years ago. Sorry to bother you with such travails sir."

"Jack, call me Jack, and I don't find your life trivial." She looked up at him, eyes large and bright. A chill of something being different about her ran down his spine suddenly as her eyes looked into his own. Tilting his head, he felt a soft touch at his heart, a probing, almost - ah…so that was what it was. "So Gwyneth, what are your plans for this fine spring day?" She blinked, uncertain about the sudden change of subject, but followed easily.

"Oh, not much really. In fact I've just been wandering around looking for something to do for the past hour or so…" He smiled, turning towards the street.

"Well then, would you object to me accompanying you?" She blushed, looking down to the arm he had just offered her.

Nervously slipping her arm through his she smiled up at him, a nervous grin that made his own smile grow. "Not at all…Jack, I would rather enjoy it in fact."

They spent the day walking aimlessly through the city, talking about whatever had come to their minds. He was amazed with himself to find that his innuendos had lessened, almost to a complete stop, while they had conversed. She was smarter than most of the women he had met in that time, despite having such a small amount of teaching in her life. A quick wit that rivaled his own, wise about the ways of the world. She dreamed of London and of making a difference in the world, but knew that she would never see any of those dreams fulfilled. He told her that he worked for the government, briefly mentioning Mary and Susan and their cruel ways. He didn't dare tell her about Torchwood, didn't dare involve her.

They continued such walks; occasionally he would flirtatiously bring her a flower or a sweet, sometimes she would bring him something she had baked. She was a good cook, he had discovered; a dinner with her in her small little 'house' behind the Funeral Home proved such, and an excellent person to talk to when Torchwood became too much of his life.

She had been saddened when one day they had walked by the silversmith's shop and the locket hadn't been there. But he was fairly certain that his subtle slipping it to her when he held her hand had made up for it.

She had kissed him full on the mouth for that one.

Things had changed, though. Faster than he could have anticipated.

The Doctor had come, he hadn't caught him but he had known that it had been him. Who else would Charles Dickens be talking about? Who else would have left such destruction behind him? Who else would kill the woman he was closest to in this life?

The funeral home had been rubble. At first he had been hopeful; it was late, she should be in her home, be safe. But as the debris had been moved away and he had managed to dig his way down to the basement, his heart had been crushed. Perhaps by the same rock he had found her lying under.

She wasn't dead. She was but…caught in between, in a way. She 'lived' long enough to say goodbye. To give him the locket, to give him a promise that she would see him again.

He had tucked the locket away after that, hid it away so that the two terrors - as she had nicknamed them - couldn't destroy it. It had her essence in it, her very self. She was an empath, born and raised and connected to the Rift. Her very soul encased inside that silver locket was a dangerous thing in the wrong hands.

Years went by. Mary and Susan lost their lives to Torchwood and others took their places. The eve of the new century was upon them. He hadn't thought of her for so long, decades, and as he saw his boss holding that tiny locket it all came crashing back. They couldn't handle the power that resided inside of that silver trinket, only she could, even he had problems when he opened it.

He hid it again after that night, only this time he kept it by his bed to make sure no one else ever stumbled across it.

It was another few years of Torchwood. He built his own team, created his own face for his organization. In the Doctor's name, in Rose's name, in her name.

He saw the locket almost every day, every time he went to sleep. It reminded him to not get too involved with someone outside of the organization, not if he wanted them to stay alive. Then they got the call, another body, another case of a victim with an odd wound. They arrived, with all the flamboyance he expected out of his team. As soon as he had stepped out of the SUV he had felt it.

Her.

He had sensed her, known without a doubt that it was her. Who else was so in tune with the Rift? Who else could unknowingly tug at his emotions? Who else could be so stubborn as to stick around when it was raining and she was told to go home?

He had looked up, saw her there; Gwen Cooper. Gwyneth Cooper. So close, same face, same eyes, same soul. He had hidden from her at first, as per protocols. Then, as she had found him, retconned her. If she had forgotten, then maybe…he would protect her this time around, no matter what the cost. But then she had to remember, had to look at him with those big, innocent eyes.

He had offered her a job. He had hated himself for it, even considered retconning her again. But the damage had been done, she had been dead-set on joining once she had thought it all out, and if there was one thing he had known about her, it was that she was stubborn.

T

She had stayed in late, putting off going back home for as long as possible. From his place across the room he could easily see that she was close to nodding off in the late hours. Sighing, he uncrossed his arms and headed for her desk, watching her head bob as she drifted between the waking and sleeping world.

She jumped slightly as he set his hand on her shoulder and looked up at him, eyes rimmed with red from the tears she didn't want him knowing she had shed. Frowning, he slid his hand down and rubbed small circles on her back. "Come on, time to head home, get a good night's sleep." She shook her head stubbornly, moving back to her computer.

"I-I can't, have all this work…" She typed wildly for a moment, nonsensible words created from a mesh of mistyped letters. "Too much to do to go home, all these forms and procedures to fill out…" She continued to ramble for a moment, her words becoming a rush, more emotion than sentences, and soon he felt her small frame shake beneath his hand.

Allowing for her to shrug him off, he turned her chair so that she was facing him and knelt down to be eye-level with her. Reaching out, he brushed away the tear that fell down her cheek. "It's alright, come on now, no crying on your birthday." She smiled slightly at his words, tilting her head so that it lay in his palm.

"You knew about that?" Her words were watery as she spoke, thick from the tears. Brushing one away with his thumb, he nodded, offering her a small smile.

"When it comes to you, there's not much I don't know." She sniffed, a soft giggle leaving her lips as she did so. Her hand came up and set atop of his, warm and soft just as he remembered it 

from the first time he had held her hand so long ago. "Now come on, what's with the water works? Something going on at home?" She looked away from him, biting her lip slightly. Taking her other hand with his unoccupied one, he gently brushed his thumb over her knuckles in a small comforting gesture.

"I-I don't want to go home Jack…I don't want to have to go back and face him and all those arguments…" The tears came harder now as she spoke and he released her hand in order to pull her into a comforting embrace. "He wants me to quit Jack, he wants me to leave this all behind! And, and I can't do that, I can't just leave this place, I love this job! He doesn't understand, doesn't get it - he just…" Her muffled voice faded into sobs as she cried into his chest, and he stroked her head lightly.

"Shh, it's alright, you don't have to go back tonight." Her hands clenched in his shirt and he continued to try and calm her. Eventually exhaustion took over and she was lost to him in the realm of the sleeping.

Carefully he slipped an arm beneath her legs and scooped her up, carrying her off to his room. Managing, with more than some difficulty, to get her down the ladder, he laid her out on the bed. A quick once-over to remove her shoes and gun and he was on to pulling the covers up to her chin.

Digging into his bedside table for a moment, he briefly checked over the small box before setting it down where she would find it. Flicking the lights off behind him, he headed up to finish the paper work she hadn't completed. He never slept much anyway.

T

The first conscious thought she was able to pull together was that she was home. Not at her flat, not with Rhys, but home. Her real home. Warm and comforting, the all encompassing sensation of golden heat that she had only felt when she was around…

She jumped up, looking around wildly. She didn't know what she had expected, clothing strewn all over the place, an all too familiar man laying down next to her, her own self covered only by sheets. Whether she was relieved or disappointed that these things were not as she had expected she couldn't tell, instead she focused on what was found.

She was in Jack's room, she'd been there before - a few very innocent work related times - a little sparse, warm dark colors, and odd trinkets of all kinds scattered around the room. Pulling the covers back revealed that her clothing was intact, albeit messy from sleep, and her gun on the stand next to the bed. Finding her shoes had been the next issue, somehow they had managed to be neatly stacked by the door, and soon she found herself standing in the center of the room in a slight bit of awe.

She had never been there by herself, had never been there without him to explain the emotions she felt. She didn't hide the fact that people gave off different signals - at least to her - that made her trust or dislike them, it was just a fact - Cooper intuition, her Gran had called it. Jack had once briefly mentioned her being untrained in her empathy, whatever he had meant by that. It was unusual for her to be surrounded by Jack without him actually being there. Focusing on dressing, she shook off the feelings.

She had been yanking on her shoes, sitting on the corner of the bed, when she had noticed it. Familiarity, longing, completeness. She looked around, wondering where the strong pull on her heart was coming from when she first noticed it. A small gift box, a shining bow tied on top, sat atop an envelope with her name on it.

Uncertainly she scooted over and reached out for it, almost yanking her hand back as the feelings from before intensified. Swallowing, she scooped up both the envelope and the present. The letter was open and with a careful hand she removed the brightly colored card from within it. She smiled at it, a birthday card, and flipped it open to read the short note he had left her in his usual messy scrawl.

'I hope you like what I got you, from what I remember you always enjoyed it. Happy Birthday - Jack'

She wondered at the message, her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, before she set the card down next to her on the bed. Moving on to the small box, barely larger than her palm, she slowly unraveled the bow. Pulling the lid off tentatively, she gasped at the sight of the gift. Reaching inside, the locket practically sung in her hand as she shakily looked it over.

A spark, in her mind or in her hand she wasn't sure, and her hand clenched around the silver trinket without her consent. Trembling from the sudden cold in the room, she fought to control her suddenly erratic breathing. The locket burned in her palm, the only source of heat she could feel, and the room around her dimmed to an all too familiar view.

Angels, ghosts, she didn't know what to call them anymore. Demons?

They were all around her, angrily screaming as the bodies they had possessed fell to the floor, unable to support them any longer. Pain erupted in her chest, there but…she couldn't quite feel it, not in the way she was supposed to. The demons screamed and fought against her, in her mind's eye she could see her hands tying them to that spot in the morgue, trapping them there.

Fire blazed all around her, devouring the demons in a great burst of heat. Above, the ceiling fell in masses of wood and stone, trapping the bodies to the floor. She glanced up, only just aware of the tears that fell from her eyes, and saw the arch that she stood under buckling under the destruction above.

The locket landed on the floor with a soft thud, a soft golden glow shining from its open face. Taking in deep, ragged breaths of air she stared down at it, her hand still open and trembling in the same position as when she had first opened the familiar object. A final shuddering breath and she closed her eyes for a brief moment, her mind organizing the second set of memories she had inherited.

A warm hand landed on her knee softly and she jumped, light eyes linking with Jack's. For a long moment she stared at him, noting the differences that had taken place. Finally she managed to speak around the lump in her throat. "You look better without the sideburns."

The concerned look on his face melted away as a laughed echoed out from his throat. Shaking his head lightly, he smiled at her. "You've been sitting there with your eyes closed, looking like some half dead creature for the past half an hour, and all you can manage is to bring up my past 

fashion sense?" She gave him a dazed smile, eyes landing on the flash of silver that he held in his hand. Following her gaze, he opened his fist so the now closed locket could be seen. "I found it on the floor when I came in…I guess I should have found something else for your birthday…"

Her head snapped up to look at him, eyes sparkling with surprise. "No! I love it!" She reached out and placed her hand atop the antique, trapping it between them. "It just…I just had to do some sorting was all…" She glanced away from their combined fist, looking up at him through her lashes.

His frown hadn't changed, the concern behind it still unyielding as ever. "It's dangerous; I should just lock it up again…the last time this was out…" She reached her unoccupied hand out and touched his cheek, bringing his attention away from the past.

"It's only dangerous to those it doesn't belong to; you of all people should know that sir…" Managing a small smile for her, he pressed the locket into her palm, encouraging her to take it. Giving him a large grin she gently accepted it, carefully working on the handmade clasp.

"Call me Jack." She looked up at him, her blue eyes looking at him from the midst of a memory not entirely her own. Smiling, she nodded, a touch of pink on her cheeks, and nervously fiddled with the chain. Reaching out, he took it from her, easily setting it around her neck before clasping it again.

"Thank you…it seems just like an hour ago you were doing that for me for the very first time…" She toyed with the ornate oval, a familiar action Gwen had never done with any of the necklaces she had ever worn. Gwyneth, he remembered, did it every time she was fighting a blush.

"It's been a bit longer than an hour." He watched her for a moment as a strand of hair fell into her eyes, not bothering to hesitate before he brushed it behind her ear. "So you like it?"

She looked at him in surprise, her hand protectively covering the small thing as if someone would attempt to rip it off her neck. "Are you joking? It's amazing, beautiful! I can't believe you would do this for me! Again!" He smiled and stood up from his kneeling position before her, moving to sit next to her on the bed. Frowning slightly, she watched him as she sat. "It's just…I can't, can't remember…where did you get it?" He gave her a small grin, enough to show he understood that not all of her memories were forthcoming. Slinging his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her into his side.

"Oh, a little silversmith shop down near Llandaff, won't find it there now of course. That was…oh, about a hundred and forty years ago now? Nice place, knew the owner pretty well, had this tendency to overprice everything he made. How he went out of business, actually." She leaned her head on his shoulder as he spoke, eyes closing as she attempted to pull the memory forward.

"Because I said it reminded me of my mother's…" He blinked and looked down at her; her brow was furrowed in concentration as she attempted to remember her past life. Smiling, he nodded as she opened her eyes and glanced up at him.

"Yeah, because of that…gave it to you on your birthday that time too…" Grinning, no doubt both Gwen and Gwyneth getting ready to poke fun at him. No matter what changes occurred over the years and lifetimes, he knew that cheeky look.

"Not that imaginative, are you? Trying the same trick on the same girl. Don't care if she's reborn as another person, that right there just isn't very original." He chuckled at her words, watching as she ran her thumb over the locket; it lay just as beautifully on her as it had the first time she had slipped it on.

"No, I guess it's not. But it works doesn't it?" She grinned up at him, toying with the necklace and smiled, slipping her hand into his.

"With you? Anything works…" She made to stand, pulling him up with her. "Come on then, I imagine Ianto will be in soon and he might be a little curious as to why I'm wearing the same clothes I was in yesterday." Nodding, he followed her out to the Hub, a grin on his face he had no intention of removing.

Eventually he would have to say goodbye to her, eventually she would have to leave - by one way or another. But eventually he would meet her again, he would look across a crowded street and find her staring into a jewelry shop window, or looking down at him from a floor above, or be pulling him off an ledge that she thought he was about to jump off of. They would always meet up again, some way or another. Fate just had a way of doing those kinds of things…