Chapter One
It was the beginning of a perfectly normal day at the Torchwood hub. There were the sounds of a loud pterodactyl, the coffeemaker, and Owen avoiding doing any work.
"Rift spike last night," Tosh observed. It seemed odd that Jack wouldn't have noticed it, living in the Hub and all. Then, given recent developments, maybe he'd been somewhere else last night.
"There was an alien in a shop. Twelve feet tall with red eyes. The shop belongs to a Mr. Smalley," Owen said, tossing a paper airplane at Gwen.
"How did you know that?" Tosh asked.
"It was in the paper," said Ianto, throwing out some spoiled milk.
"Should we go investigate, then?" asked Gwen.
"Exactly the plan," Jack said, having apparently overheard.
"And also, we should buy milk," said Ianto.
"Let's go, then."
The shop was a bit musty, as shops full of old things were. A pleasant sort of musty, reminiscent of your grandmother's attic. It was full of ferns and figurines and lamps and tailoring figures. A curly-haired woman held the door for Torchwood as she exited, casting an appreciative eye towards Jack.
"Hello?" Jack asked.
"Hello!" It was a red parrot on a perch, who moved from side to side taking in the group. "Hello!"
"Hello," Tosh said, as Owen rolled his eyes and picked up a ballerina figurine. It looked quite old, and the bottom said 'Made in China'.
"Doesn't really look like there was a twelve-foot alien in here," Gwen commented.
"It could have been in back," Ianto suggested.
"Could've."
Jack picked up a locket, silver with what looked to be a ruby or garnet in the center. He carefully pried it open, and smiled at the contents in the way people smiled when they were pleased about something that made them sad, or sad about something that made them happy. "Catherine."
"Who's Catherine?" asked Gwen. Ianto carefully peeked inside the locket. There was a short lock of dark hair and an old photograph of Jack and a woman. The hair might have been Jack's.
"My wife," he said, in the light way he always tread on his past, "But that was a long time ago." He closed it with an air of finality and put it down.
"Time is relative," came a voice. A man with a faded suit and red hat with tassel and embroidery walked into the room. "From some viewpoints, it's still happening.
"But not mine," Jack said firmly. "Mr. Smalley?"
The man nodded. "Everything has its end, as I'm sure you're aware, Captain Jack Harkness."
There was a moment of exchanged glances before Jack faced Mr. Smalley again, the Torchwood agents giving the air of a military formation. "How do you know my name?" Jack asked.
Mr. Smalley laughed. "I put that story in the paper and that Rift activity on your sensor to get the attention of the legendary Torchwood."
"Why?"
"I believe, Captain Harkness, that you have combated members of the Trickster's Brigade in the past?" The man— Jack was sure his name wasn't Smalley— tilted his head.
"In 1927," Jack said coolly.
"So you are familiar with the Trickster?"
"So are you."
The man smiled. "So I am. I will be requiring your assistance to prevent him from disturbing a fixed point in time." He said the last four words pointedly.
"Who's the Trickster?" Gwen asked.
"Part of the Pantheon of Discord. Changes the timeline to create as much chaos as possible," Jack said, not taking his eyes from the shopkeeper.
The parrot squawked. The shopkeeper smiled at it. "Ah, yes. I am wasting time."
"Assuming time can ever be gone," Jack said. Making philosophical comments on time? Two could play at that game.
"In any case, I require your assistance. There are five concurrent attacks on this point. I am unable to travel through time and hold them off, but you— " He moved his hands like he was shaping clay into a ball and created a portal with edges like shards of glass. "—can."
"I can't go," Jack said, "I'd be crossing my own timeline."
The shopkeeper nodded respectfully. "Your own timeline, Captain, is under attack."
"What happens to Jack if we don't stop the Trickster?" Ianto asked cautiously.
"The entire history of the universe will fall into itself. Gilgamesh will coexist with Elizabeth the Second on a spaceship."
"Sounds like the premise of a good novel," Tosh commented.
"Unfortunately, this novel will end with the sheer entropy caused by this used by the Trickster to turn the universe into eternal chaos."
"And who are you?" Jack asked.
The man smiled. "A servant of the universe."
"They aren't going anywhere unless you tell us who you are."
"Who said you had a choice in the matter?" The man grinned broadly and snapped his fingers.
The portal enveloped the other four Torchwood agents.