On a hilltop in Wales, around 30 miles from the centre of Cardiff stood a castle. It had been there since the Black Prince had attempted to rule the wild hills of old Cymru, and had outlasted every one of the noble family's who inhabited from time to time. The last family had been no more successful than the others, and 20 years ago the castle had fallen into disrepair. Until, that is, last year. Then it had suddenly become a hive of activity. Large silver vans started to arrive, but no-one was ever seen. The sound of machinery came from the outbuildings there almost constantly, but again no-one was ever seen. Shrieks were sometimes heard, carrying across the sill night air to the small village three miles away. Then suddenly it all stopped. No more machinery, no more shrieks. For a year all was quiet and the locals started to feel safe in the homes again.
And then more vans arrived. And the shrieks stated again. But they had a different tone now. Before they'd been of despair, of being trapped. Now they were of pain and fear, and of rage. One night the shrieks didn't stop, but built and built until they filled the valley below. And suddenly they were closer to the village than before. And still they came closer. And closer. Until they passed overhead and carried on towards Cardiff. And food.
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Hehe. Just a little prologue to start off with.
Shouldn't be too long, but I may detract that statement. This will be Jack/OC, Gwen/Rhys, Owen/? and not sure what I'm going to do to Tosh and Ianto yet.