Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by the writers, producers, et al of the television show 'Torchwood'. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, internet persona, or other being, living or dead, is completely coincidental and unintentional unless otherwise noted.
A/N: Gwen Cooper irritates the ever-living fuck out of me. Always has, and always will. I'm sorry if this doesn't agree with your own personal view of her, but everyone's entitled to their own opinions. Ergo, for the purposes of this story, she is the PC who was killed at the beginning of Doctor Who's episode The God Complex (6.11), rather than PC Lucy Haywood (don't we all love the wibbly-wobbly nature of time in the Whoverse?). As you might infer, this means that this is a series rewrite with someone else in Gwen's place. I hope you like what I did.
Considering the source material, do I really need to mention that this story will contain violence, sex (both slash and het), drinking, smoking, drugs, and 'bad' language? Thought not. Fandoms like this one are why the M rating exists in the first place. If any of the list above offends you… WTF are you doing in the Torchwood fandom to begin with?
Synchronicity
Chapter One: The More They Stay the Same
1 January, 2000
00:17
Unseen by most revelers below, obscured by fireworks and smoke, a small streak flashed brilliantly through the night sky; the few partiers who observed its descent figured it to be nothing more than a meteorite. Miles away, a skeleton crew at UNIT's HQ tracked the same 'meteorite', and found its projected 'landing zone' to be an empty field, just north of Cardiff. Back-tracing its flight revealed that there was only one place it could have originated: The Cardiff Rift. Following protocol, the officer in charge passed the information along to Torchwood's headquarters.
Closer to the impact site, roughly an hour after the unknown object had streaked across the night sky, a discreet chirp momentarily tore Jack's attention from Alex's body. He recognized it as an incoming message from T1 in London. He looked at the bodies of his teammates and closed his eyes. Shaking his head, he ignored the message and climbed to his feet. More important things, he thought, then made a list of what he needed to accomplish. It was dishearteningly long. T1 can handle it. Whatever it is.
At the impact site, minutes after her controls shorted and she'd plowed into the ground of an unknown planet, a blonde girl opened her eyes. She silenced the alarms buzzing and beeping around her. "Thanks, yeah – I know I've crashed. Just don't know how. Wasn't anything I could've crashed into. Could they have tracked the ship that quickly?" She ran a hand through her hair, dislodging the elastic tie. Must have done. Resecuring her hair into its customary pony-tail, she carefully extracted herself from the wreckage. Her back twinged painfully as bones knit and muscles and tendons healed. The damage could have been much worse. As it was, she'd invested in Second Skin not long after leaving Messaline behind; it had been a very good investment, literally saving her skin on more than one narrow escape.
Standing on the lip of the crater in which her latest ship lie burning, she checked her pockets. Satisfied she had everything she needed, she sighed and strode off into the night, intent on quickly locating another ship and getting back to business.
Unfortunately, she would wind up disappointed.
24 December, 2005
15:10
For the twentieth time in nearly six years, the MPEA let out a bleeping chime. Pausing in getting ready for work, Jenny picked up the piece of technology and scrolled to the appropriate screen. Thus far, none of the alerts had panned out. Finally! The scanner function had locked onto the energy signature of a ship she knew how to fly. Now, I just need to figure out how to get aboard.
It took her all night, but just as she was about to trip the cobbled-together teleporter, her MPEA let out another, more urgent, alarm. Reading what it said, she looked up to see beams of concentrated green energy lancing up through the sky. A heartbeat later, the ship exploded. Frustrated, she destroyed the teleporter and headed back to her 'life', such that it was. Some day, I am gonna get back to where – and when – I'm supposed to be, no matter what it takes.
15 February, 2006
11:42
Copious research over the years was reinforced by her newly-strengthened vow and cumulated in her return to the city nearest which she'd initially crashed. From what she could see, it hadn't changed at all, though her second visit was going far more smoothly than her first – mainly thanks to her now knowing how to speak something other than Galactic Standard. The first thing she did on stepping off the train was find a nice private corner of a coffee shop with access to Wi-Fi. Over a chocolate latte, she methodically wiped 'Jenny Smith' from existence and had 'Jenny Thomas' inserted into being, easily back-dating the various entries to read as though they'd been there for years. Before leaving London, she'd already slipped into the multiple buildings where hardcopy was needed to support the digital information and inserted or deleted as needed.
Okay, so I now 'officially' exist. Next step, I need to find a place to stay, and then figure out how to get into Torchwood.
It wasn't as easy as she'd thought it'd be, particularly not when the entire group seemed to be rather insular. Shortly after missing yet another chance to hijack a ship and get off of Earth (a Chula ship had crashed in the Thames, but her MPEA had indicated it was still spaceworthy), she revamped her plans.
Jenny added a bit to her fabricated history, then joined the Cardiff police.
12 July, 2006
17:06
The last of the Cybermen disappeared, headed for what her MPEA indicated was a hole in the universe. Jenny couldn't help but let out a small breath of relief. I don't know who managed it, but if I ever find them, they're getting the hug of a lifetime. Cyberforms are nothing anyone should ever have to live through. Ever.
A couple of days later, she slipped into the T3 files. A part of her that had been tensed in preparation for combat relaxed. Torchwood One had fallen completely. She no longer had to worry about their scientists finding out about her and taking her away. This didn't relax her enough to let down her guard completely. UNIT is still out there, after all.
21 October, 2006
23:38
It was raining, but Jenny didn't mind. She actually quite liked the rain. It was surprising how few planets had uncontrolled weather like this, and she never quite got used to it, but loved every second of it. She adjusted her belt on climbing out of the car and walked over to her partner of the last eight months. "Hey," she greeted the tall, lanky redhead.
"Horrible night," Andy replied, handing her a small cup of tea.
"It's beautiful," Jenny argued, turning her face up so the rain could wash over it.
"And you're a complete nutter," Andy fondly said. It had been an ongoing source of teasing since they'd met – Jenny's love of rain and snow.
She sipped from the cup. "Do they know who it is yet?" she asked, nodding to where the crime scene techs in their white coveralls were working around a recently-dead body.
"Just some bloke," Andy said with a shrug. "You going to Slimbo's on Friday?"
Jenny wrinkled her nose. "Drinks?"
"That and pizza, I think. So, you coming, too?"
The blonde shook her head. "Don't think so."
Andy rolled his eyes. "Shoulda known better than to ask, Jen. You never accept."
"Doesn't stop you from asking, though." Jenny smiled at him. Despite all the secrets she carried and her intense desire to leave this backwards planet behind, she genuinely liked Andy.
A couple of moments later, they spotted the techs packing up. "What's going on over there?" Andy asked through his radio.
A slightly static-laden reply buzzed through the radio's speaker, "SOCOs are leaving, orders from bloody Torchwood."
Jenny only just managed to keep her face schooled. After months of covert observation and attempting to get into the organization, they were finally showing at a police crime scene. Granted, there wasn't anything about the scene itself that seemed abnormal, but they were finally coming to her. She ducked away from the yellow line of tape and raced into a multi-tiered parking structure that would sport a good view of the body.
She skidded to a halt on the fifth level, taking a position mostly obscured by a support pillar. Peering around the edge, she watched the team below. "…punched again, I'm punching him right back," Dr. Harper was saying.
"Just concentrate, Suzie," Captain Harkness commanded.
What the hell are they doing with an Irkanes-Shethka gauntlet? Not only is it three galaxies from home, but they're a solid thousand years from being invented. Jenny frowned as the Costello woman managed to get the glove to work on the dead man. How'd they get it to begin with, let alone figure how to work the damn thing? She chewed on her lip as she watched the team try to get the dead guy to describe what had happened to him. And if they've got that, what else do they have? She rolled her eyes at herself. Come on, Jenny-girl – you know how they got it. Same way you wound up here. That bloody rift.
She jumped slightly as Harkness' voice shouted, "What do you think?" She looked down and saw him staring up at her. She pointed to herself with a questioning eyebrow. The man nodded. "Yeah, you."
"Just a minute," she called out to him, hoping he would take the hint and stick around and wait for her. Glancing down as she passed the third level, she saw the Torchwood team packing up. "Oh, no you don't, not when I've finally got your attention," she grumbled to herself, then jumped from the overlook. She landed with a rather dramatic splash, in an ankle-deep puddle.
"Careful," Harkness said, walking over to her. "Could hurt yourself that way."
Jenny straightened from her landing-crouch and grinned at him. "Unlikely," she said, purposefully using Galactic Standard.
It managed to take Captain Harkness by surprise, but the gratifyingly startled expression was quickly wiped away. "I think, miss, we need to talk," he said, in English, steel underlying his voice.
"I quite agree," Jenny replied, likewise using English.
The captain's ear-com beeped. He reached up and tapped it. "Yeah?" he questioned, then held up a 'wait a moment' finger. "Get back to the Hub. Suzie, you and Tosh head on home for tonight. Owen, take Ianto and deal with it – when you're done, go home yourself." He returned his attention to Jenny as he switched off the earpiece. "Hungry?"
"Not really," Jenny said. "I'd just had dinner before arriving. Let me talk with my partner for a moment, then we can have a long-overdue chat, Captain Harkness." Without waiting for a reply, Jenny sprinted over to where Andy was patiently waiting next to their police car.
"Where've you been off to, Jen?" Andy asked.
Jenny winced and adopted a pitiful tone. "I was sick," she said. "I think it was something I ate. Can you…?"
Andy nodded. "Sure thing. I'll let the higher-ups know. I'll tell them you won't be in tomorrow, either. Need a lift home?"
"Thanks, but no – I called Emma. She's on her way home from work anyway and said she'd pick me up on the way. Should be here in a few minutes. You go on."
"Sure thing," Andy said, leaning down and kissing her cheek. "Take care of yourself, Jen, and feel better soon."
She waited until he drove away before walking back to where Jack Harkness was waiting. "I'm playing sick, so just to be on the safe side, maybe we ought to talk somewhere I won't be spotted." She began walking towards her flat.
Twenty minutes later, she unlocked her front door and gestured for Jack to precede her inside. She hit a light switch, then closed the door behind her and stripped off her police-issue jacket and hat. "Help yourself to the kitchen, if you like," she said. "I'm gonna change out of this uniform."
It was a measure of just how much one single word – albeit one spoken in a language that wouldn't be developed for close to three more millennia – had managed to throw Jack off his stride that he didn't bother with a lewd or inappropriate comment. He simply let her head towards her bedroom, his attention more on the various knickknacks and photos strewn about the tiny living space.
Despite the language he'd heard her use, he couldn't spot anything out in the open that didn't fit with the current time. She had a small flatscreen television, a two-seater sofa, and a battered coffee table, strewn with bits and pieces of the last few days' newspapers – the crosswords, mostly, half-done in pen – and a couple of magazines that focused on celebrities and fashion. The kitchen was separated by a short breakfast bar. The fridge sported several photos, half of which also had the policeman she'd spoken to at the crime scene in them.
While he was rifling through her cupboards, the blonde girl reappeared. She'd changed into a pair of jeans and a tightly-fitting long-sleeved grey shirt, over which she wore a black t-shirt sporting the logo for a local rock band. Her hair had been released from its police-bun and tied into a simple tail. "Biscuits are in the one next to the fridge," she said, flopping onto the sofa. "I like the ones with raspberry in them, so don't touch. You can have any of the others. Also have some lemonade in the fridge."
Jack quickly located the tin containing a mix of various biscuits and grabbed two cans of lemonade out of the fridge. He handed the tin and one of the cans to the blonde, then asked, "Who are you?" in Galactic Standard.
Using the same language, Jenny replied as she opened the tin, "It's a long story." She clamored over to make space, then patted the empty cushion. "Have a seat."
Jack joined her on the sofa. "Where are you from? When are you from? Why didn't we – Torchwood – sense your arrival?"
Jenny cracked her lemonade open. "Like I said, it's kind of a long story."
"I've got time," Jack replied, hoping that the girl would begin talking soon. He also hoped that this would wind up being something he could easily deal with.
This made Jenny giggle. "I'd think so, if the rumors I've read about you are right."
"Would depend on the rumors," Jack allowed, not bothering to mask the suspicion in his voice. "You still haven't answered any of my questions."
"Fair enough," Jenny allowed, setting her lemonade on the coffee table and grabbing one of her preferred biscuits. "Ten years ago, I was created on July 24, 6012 on the planet Messaline, via the use of a Progenation Unit."
Jack couldn't hide the skepticism as he repeated, "'Progenation Unit'?"
Jenny nodded, then took a bite of her biscuit. She motioned to the tin. "Help yourself." She washed the bite down with a drink. "A Progenation Unit. It takes a sample of diploid cells, splits them into haploids, runs the result through a quick scan to ensure viability, then recombines the ones that survive the scan into a new arrangement, then force-grows the resultant individual to a pre-set age, programming things like speech, motor control, and other relevant skills as the individual is grown."
Though he'd once been a Time Agent, he'd never visited the future of his own timeline without the Doctor – and the few times they'd done so, he'd never chanced on the technology she described. However, he knew enough about technology in general to get the gist of it. "I didn't spend much time on Messaline. I ran away…" she trailed off with an odd look in her eyes, but quickly shook off whatever it was that had her looking slightly hurt. "Anyway, flash forwards four years, and I've just stolen a Dogon puddle-jumper. The instruments went wild – I thought the guy I'd stolen it from had managed to hit the recall beacon, but that thought didn't last. Enter some golden glowy atmospheric effects, and suddenly I'm careening towards this blue-green world I've never seen before."
"Sounds like you got caught in a rift-storm and crashed," Jack commented. "Still doesn't explain why we didn't notice. We keep the rift under pretty close supervision."
"Well, I didn't know so at the time, but I've since worked out that I crashed just after midnight on the first of January, 2000." Jenny paused long enough to slurp another drink of her lemonade.
Jack suddenly remembered the message he hadn't gotten around to reading until nearly a week after it had been sent. "Ah, that makes sense. Was caught up in something else at the time," he said, once more wondering just what had been so bad that Alex had felt the need to do what he'd done. "So, you've been here for almost seven years."
Jenny nodded. "Spent most of that time trying to figure out how to get home. Had a couple of close-calls – figured I'd stick around until an interstellar ship showed, then hijack it and head for the Shadow Proclamation. According to the history I was given during progenation, they're about the only ones with access to time travel who'd be willing to help me out. Unfortunately, I kept missing my opportunities – either the ships that showed up weren't ones I know how to fly, or they'd wind up destroyed. I tried to get into UNIT, but they weren't interested in the girl I'd concocted as a cover. I did some additional research and found that Torchwood would probably be my best bet. I picked the base here in Cardiff because you'd severed ties with the one in London. And I really didn't want to get caught by them."
Jack knew precisely what sort of people worked for T1. "Why not?" he asked. "Granted, they're ruthless and more than just a little despicable –"
"Because they give a full-scan medical to all their employees on a regular basis," Jenny interrupted. "I can't let them do that to me. They'd never let me leave."
Jack quickly checked his internal knowledge of alien species who could pass for human unless subjected to medical testing and came up with a very short list. "Cassavalian? You from Sto?" he asked, naming the only visibly-humanlike species still around; at least, the only one who could produce someone who had Jenny's fair hair and blue eyes and sun-kissed complexion.
Jenny shook her head. "Nope." She drained the remains of her lemonade and sat the empty can next to the biscuit tin. "I met the source of my progenation. He called himself a 'Time Lord'." She poked around the biscuits, then sighed at the lack of any more raspberry ones. "He didn't seem to like me very much. The woman with him, what was her name? Donna?" She shrugged and settled back against her couch. "Anyway, the woman with him had to talk him into saying I could go with them when they left. There was a lot of running," she said with a nostalgic smile. "I wound up getting shot. But when I woke up, they'd left without me."
Jack was beyond surprised at this point. She's a Time Lord. Time Lady? Jack mentally shoved aside the terminology. Whatever. She's basically the Doctor's only family, regardless of how she came to be. I really can't see him leaving her… Memories he'd tried to ignore for more than a century bubbled up. No, I suppose I can see him doing that. He left me behind, after all. Hasn't even tried to find me. Besides, you've lived long enough to know that one side isn't all there is to a story. Once you find him, you can ask him why he left her behind, too.
Jenny watched as the captain's face shifted from shock through to bitterness and finally landing on something she'd felt compelled to label as 'resolved'. "What's on your mind?"
"That the Doctor has more to answer for than I'd thought," Jack replied, finally opening his own can of lemonade. After taking a drink, he asked, "How come you've not come to me before?"
She shrugged. "I couldn't be certain you weren't like the ones in London. I had to be sure."
"I suppose I can understand that," Jack allowed. "Can I ask… What's with the police getup?"
"Can't stay in one place for long without getting a job," Jenny replied. "Besides, it gave me the chance to observe without arousing suspicion. I had to be sure, you see."
"I do see." Jack did, and didn't blame her for her caution. "So, what do I call you?"
"The woman with my progenerator called me 'Jenny'. I've always been fond of it. It's what's on my IDs for here – specifically Jenny Thomas."
Jack finally let himself smile. "Well, Jenny Thomas. Pleased to meet you," he offered his own hand. "Captain Jack Harkness."
"I know, Captain," she said, shaking his hand and mirroring his smile.
"Call me Jack," he replied. "And what can Torchwood Three do for you?"
"I will, Jack," Jenny said. "Can you get me home? Back to 6016, I mean. Preferably nowhere near the Dogon Cluster."
Jack's smile died. "Sorry, Jenny. We can't. I should know – I've been trying to fix this," he tapped the leather band he habitually wore on his wrist, "for over a century now. I've come to conclude that time-hopping is just too far outside the capabilities of here and now."
Jenny took Jack's hand and pushed his coat sleeve out of the way. Jack reached over and opened the cover, revealing the technology beneath. "Standard Time Agent Vortex Manipulator, Series Six, Mark Nine; DNA-coded for additional security," she recited. "Spatiotemporal circuit's fried, though." She released his hand. "You're stuck here, too, aren't you?"
Jack nodded, closing the wrist strap's access panel. "Yep."
"Sorry for both of us, then. Have you tried hitchhiking to the SP yourself?" she asked.
"No," Jack said. "I doubt they'd help me – I was something of a conman, though that was long ago and far away. You know they've got records in both directions. I don't want to wind up in a Stormcage."
Jenny nodded in agreement. "Can I ask some questions of my own now?"
"Sure," Jack allowed. "I reserve the right not to answer, though."
"Fair enough," she said. "If you were a Time Agent, how come they haven't rescued you?"
Jack winced. "Well… I sorta quit the agency. Stole my manipulator and set about conning them outta as much money as I could get away with. I'm pretty sure they're perfectly happy with me disappearing."
Jenny laughed. "If that's so, then I suppose I can't blame them."
Jack managed a small laugh of his own. "Yeah. Can't blame them any."
"And what of the rumors about you, Jack? When I was researching Torchwood, you've been mentioned in reports for way longer than anyone else. When I saw the wrist strap, I thought that might've explained it, but it's broken."
Jack ran a hand through his hair. "That's a bit complicated, Jenny."
"More complicated than stepping out of a box, fully grown?" she countered.
"Fair enough," Jack mimicked her earlier words. "I was still running cons against the Time Agency at the time. Got my hands on a Chula ambulance, had it crash-land in 1941 London, where I knew a bomb would hit it and destroy it. I'd sent a signal to a ship I'd thought was another Time Agent's, but that's not who it turned out being."
"The Doctor," Jenny said.
Jack nodded. "The Doctor," he agreed. "Anyway, turned out the nanites in the ambulance had escaped and were causing all sorts of problems. I helped fix the problems, then found myself traveling with the Doctor. Wasn't with him for very long. Wound up in the year two-hundred-one-hundred. Some very nasty stuff happened and I got killed in the process," seeing that Jenny was about to interrupt, he held a finger against her lips. "No, I'm not still dead, obviously. I don't know what happened, but I came back to life to find the Doctor had left me behind. I set my manipulator for twenty-first century Earth – the other person traveling with him was from there-then – and activated it, hoping to catch up with him. Damn thing dropped me here – in Cardiff – a hundred and thirty-six years from when it was supposed to. The circuit fried at the same time. I've been stuck here ever since mid-May of 1869."
Jack lowered his finger from her mouth and Jenny thought hard and fast, quickly adding up the evidence. "So… You can't die, can you?"
Jack shrugged. "If I can, I haven't yet. Shooting, strangulation, hanging, drowning, starvation – none of it's stuck."
That explains what I feel off of him. Typically, Jenny could sense the people around her in her mind, their presence skittering and ephemeral. Sitting next to Jack, though, was something else altogether. A rock in a stream, time slipping around him, but never moving him. She quite liked the implied permanence; there was something settling about it that soothed an itch she hadn't been aware of having. The other implication of his admission took another second for her brain to work out. "I'm sorry," she said, taking his hands in her own.
Jack saw sadness surfacing in her eyes. "What for? None of it's your fault."
She shook her head. "Not what I meant. You just go on and on. You don't age, not from the photos I've seen. But everyone around you does and dies or moves on. I'm sorry for that. It must be lonely."
For the first time in his extremely long life, Jack was presented with a reaction he'd never before seen. Compassion. Not disbelief. Not shock. Not envy. Not even disgust. Compassion. Someone had managed to see the downside of immortality without him having to paint them a picture. "Thank you," he eventually managed to choke the words out.
Jenny cleared her throat. "You're welcome, though I don't know what for."
Jack shook his head. "Just… You're a rarity, do you know that?"
She shrugged, letting go of Jack. "If you say so."
"I do say so," Jack assured her. He finally helped himself to her tin of biscuits. "Okay, time to change the subject," he said around a mouthful of crumbs.
"To what?" she asked.
"Well, since we can't send you home – yet – I have an idea."
"Yet?"
"The Doctor will show up, of that I have no doubt whatsoever. I'm just biding my time, waiting for a version of him that syncs with knowing me. When he finally arrives, we can check to see if he knows you, too. If he doesn't, we can wait a while longer. In the meantime, you said it yourself – it's hard to stay in one place for long without a job."
"You mean, work for you?"
Jack nodded. "Could use your help. You can't argue you're wasted on the Cardiff police."
Jenny grinned. Sure, it wasn't quite the result she'd been hoping for from Torchwood, but she had to admit that Jack had a point. "True. Let me officially quit, though. Since you're stationed here, it'd make the most sense to keep the same ID. Besides, I've made some friends. Wouldn't want them to think I'd just disappeared, to say nothing of how awkward it could get if I ran into them down at the pub or something."
"Okay. How's three days for you?"
"Should be plenty of time," Jenny agreed.
Jack checked his watch. "See you on Wednesday, then," he said, standing. "Come to the tourist info center on the bay, it's beneath the Plass. Hard to miss, if you're looking for it."
"See you then," Jenny replied, walking Jack to the door.
This is going to be interesting, they both managed the thought simultaneously, as Jenny shut the door behind Jack, and as Jack walked out of her building and towards the Hub. Don't know what else it's going to be, but 'interesting' is definitely a good word.
A/N2: I struggled with whether or not to put this into the crossover section, considering that Torchwood is part of the greater Whoverse to begin with. Eventually, I decided to list it thus, even though it isn't really (other than as the origin of the second main character), as one needn't have followed Doctor Who to really understand this particular story. Also, I feel I ought to warn you that this won't be a Jenny/Jack romance. I don't do romance well or often, so I can safely say this won't be one. The keen observer will also realize I've tweaked timelines somewhat – this was because reconciling Doctor Who and Torchwood dates is nearly impossible. I hope you all can forgive the tweaking. I did it to save my sanity.
Also, updates will come as they will for this. I'm working on the last chapter of my Sherlock AU, which has been giving me fits, as well as my other AUs (none of which have been abandoned, regardless of how long its been since I've updated). I tend to write for whichever musebunny screams the loudest. This week, it was this one. Next week, it might not be.
Kindly let me know what y'all think. Thanks in advance.