A series of vignettes based in the "Tracking Torchwood" universe. Some will be serious, as implied by the title. Minor keys are frequently used for somber songs. But they can also be used for upbeat music, and this first vignette is indeed upbeat, inspired by Jack's dance with Rose in "The Empty Child."

For Aibhinn, who's had a rough week!

Kit and Raphael are mine. All else belongs to the BBC, except for Ed Murrow. He belongs to history.

"Khazala'ist! Can he be any more stupid?"

"Language, Kit-kat," Raphael mildly scolded his student as he materialized next to her on the balcony. He kept his power muted, only his eyes shining with the brilliance of the Vortex. "So, something is interfering with history?"

"There." Kit pointed over the London rooftops toward Big Ben. "The same thing I told you about before, but now it's worse. He had some sort of tractor beam going before, right in the middle of the bombing. And now look. Bad enough he parked an invisible spaceship right next to a landmark. But now he's walking on top of it!"

Raphael leaned against the railing and gazed out, his glowing amber eyes picking out minor details that Kit couldn't see in her full human form. "Hmm. And he's not alone, I see."

Kit growled as the invisible spaceship became visible. "I guess he can be more stupid! They're standing on top of a spaceship in the middle of the Blitz…drinking champagne!"

"A man who drinks Dom Perignon isn't all that bad," mused the archangel. He raised an eyebrow when Big Ben lit up. "But then again…."

"Stupid khazala'enten—"

Raphael gave her what he obviously intended as a stern look, but she could see the smile tugging at his lips. "Language, Kit-kat!"

She rolled her eyes. "So, what do we do about him?"

"Nothing," Raphael told her, holding up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest. "That is part of what must be, and you aren't here to interfere with it."

"But Murrow's gonna be up here for his next broadcast in just a few minutes!" Kit fretted. "And what's he gonna see? Captain Champagne dancing with some girl on top of a spaceship!"

"Not if you stop him," Raphael pointed out. "This little dance has to play out, so you need to… delay Mr. Murrow for, oh, about five more minutes."

"And make him late for his broadcast?" Kit asked with wide eyes. "They'll fire me for that."

"You like being a CBS secretary so much?"

She snorted. "No. I'd rather be a reporter! But if I'm fired, I won't be here to watch out for him."

"Quite all right, Kit-kat. Your Sojourn here is done after this," Raphael told her.

She raised an eyebrow. "But there's still months left in the Blitz, and…"

"You're forgetting to listen. Stop for a moment."

She cocked her head to listen to the Music. Her eyes widened as she heard a melodic line she hadn't noticed before. "I'm only here to keep him from seeing them! I can see part of their timeline now…but why does it fuzz out?"

"You see what you're meant to see," Raphael answered. "Off with you, now. Don't want to mess up the timeline."

She chuckled. "Well, one good thing about getting sacked. I don't have to wear this getup anymore!" She brushed distastefully at her clothes. "The skirt's too tight, the heels hurt and don't get me started on the garters!"

"Ooh, garters. I like the sound of that," Jack said as Kit paused in her narrative. He laughed when she rolled her eyes at him. "So how'd you end up keeping him from seeing us?"

She turned pink. "Ummm…well…"

"C'mon, Angel. You can tell me anything," Jack urged as he stepped off the ladder and put down the pruning shears. He sat next to her on the bench in the middle of the Cloister room. "How'd you do it?"

"Well, I kinda…threw myself at him."

Jack's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You made a pass at your boss?"

Kit shook her head. "No, I mean I threw myself at him. Tackled him from midway down a staircase, telling him it wasn't safe to go out and file his report."

"Ouch!" Jack chuckled. "That must've hurt!"

"It did!"

"I meant him! I still have the bruise from when you tackled me the night we met!"

Giggling, she poked an elbow into his ribs. "You do not!" She paused for a moment, and in a prim voice added, "I've checked."

He snickered again. "And they sacked you for it?" When she nodded, he went on, "Captain Champagne, huh?"

"Well, you do go to my head," she answered with a wink.

He slipped his arms around her. "Oooh. Like the sound of that even better." He kissed her, then pulled back and gave her a hopeful look. "Garters?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Convince me."

He grinned slyly. "Oh, you know I like a challenge."