It was cold, and if there was one thing Shade was pissed off about, it was that. Of course, there wasn't just one thing he was pissed off about, but the fucking cold as definitely one of them. Shade stubbornly refused to wrap his coat around him any further, because Jerry would notice the movement and laugh at him for being a wuss. Well, it was alright for Jerry, who was wearing his giant Army coat that snow ran away from, screaming in fear. Shade was dressed like a normal person, and was therefore pretty cold. It was actually only autumn, but Shade's body didn't make all that much of its own heat, he was practically cold-blooded! Jerry had plenty of body heat, Shade could practically feel it emanating from the man. With the amount Jerry ate, he ought to be giving off excess warmth like a radiator. But Shade could hardly snuggle up to him in the middle of the road. For one thing, Jerry was married, and though Lucy liked him, he didn't think their friendship would survive him having an affair with her husband. For another thing, though Jerry was open-minded, he didn't like to be directly confronted with any kind of PDA. It was some kind of old-fashioned chivalry thing, argued Jerry. Shade just thought he was a total prude. So, swallowing his pride, Shade dug in his jacket pocket for the black gloves he kept in there. They were the leather ones he kept for whenever he worked up the courage to ride the motorbike gathering dust in his garage. Instead, he came out with a pair of pink fluffy mittens.

Shade stared at them in horror for a few moments. They had little white cats dotted over them, and pink satin bows tying at the wrist end. Shade turned slowly to a grinning Jerry who as trying not to laugh. "Maria's going to be pissed that you stole her gloves," Shade observed nonchalantly. Jerry choked and spluttered with mirth, which only intensified as Shade attempted to tug an eight-year-old's gloves onto his long fingered hands. Shade's brow crinkled in concentration as he tried to work them around his bony fingers, as Jerry spluttered uncontrollably beside him. Shade glared at his partner, but in a very friendly way, for him.

"Don't judge me," Shade rebuked, "My fingers are fucking freezing."

Jerry shook his head in a very holier-than-thou way, and Shade bumped him irritably with a shoulder. Jerry laughed again as Shade's shoulder smacked into his upper arm. Shade hated being short. He had been his whole life, and now, surrounded by burly, intimidating men at his work, he felt very inferior. He'd pleaded to Maria to employ at least one other short person, but his request hadn't been granted yet. Shade had a feeling that Maria was actually turning people away because they were short. He wouldn't put it past her, Shade knew from experience that that woman could hold a grudge.

***

Jack stared incredulously at the phone in his hand. He'd been threatened, shot and insulted more times in his long, long life than he could even remember, but somehow he knew that this caller would leave an impression. Never in his life had he been so offended in such a short space of time. The caller had taken four sentences to make the infamously talkative American completely silent. Then he'd hung up. Jack gnawed his lip for a second, and then turned to Gwen, who was doing some technical thing over by the bank of computers. The Welsh woman appeared to feel the Captain's gaze on her, because she looked over her shoulder at Jack, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

Jack cleared his throat. "Gwen, some MI5 people are coming." He decided the best way to recover from his shock was to not try to think too deeply about anything. Gwen's jaw dropped and she replied, "What?" in a whisper. Jack felt much the same. The government had never tried to muscle their way into their territory before, not even when aliens were threatening the Earth. "They want to...help." Jack stumbled over the last word as he recalled the two voices he had heard. He hoped to hell the first was the one in charge. He had been calm and rational, something he expected from an MI5 agent. But the second voice had been harsh and bad-tempered, and didn't seem to like Jack at all.

He tossed the phone irreverently onto the desk beside her. She picked it up and carefully attached it to the main computer to hear back their conversation. Jack winced as it began, his humiliation necessary for Gwen to understand what was going on. "Ianto," he called to the man a little way a way. "You need to hear this."

Ianto made his way over curiously, just in time to hear the phone call.

"Hello, Jerry O'Shea here." Gwen's brow furrowed, and she opened up another screen with a twitch of her hand. "Jerry O'Shea. Ex-Army. Partnered to one...Shade? No last name at all. Jack?" She turned uncertainly to her boss, wondering if Torchwood clearance levels had been lowered in the wake of this children disaster. Jack shushed her impatiently, knowing that the important part was coming up soon. "Fast forward," he said, waving his hand at the computer screen. Gwen sighed and flicked her fingers across the touch screen.

"Listen to me you fucking American bastard. Me and my partner are coming over right now to your little warehouse, alright? If we get there and you're gone, I will find you, disembowel you and use your guts for streamers at my godson's birthday party next week, alright? Good, I'm glad we understand each other."

Ianto whistled. "That's bloody impressive."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Thank you for your support."

And that was when Shade kicked the door down.

****

Jerry looked down at his friend's wild face. "Shade, was that necessary? I mean, really?" Shade grinned up at him unashamedly. There was nothing Shade liked more than a fight. He'd kicked the metal door open with one fancy blow, a flying kick that was a particular favourite of his. He'd landed, catlike, and was now grinning around at his 'audience'. Shade liked a bit of drama, he felt it added spice to life. However, in his travels, he'd discovered those who didn't share his view. The gangster mob in Sicily, the mafia boss in Russia, and, of course, politicians everywhere. It seemed he would now add another to this list.

Jack shot him without even realising he'd done it. In his defence, he'd been very shocked when a young man kicked down his door. A woman seated at a bank of computers screamed as Shade spun to the right as the bullet impacted his chest. He crumpled to the floor. Jerry could hear him swearing like a sailor under his breath as he lay there. Jerry nudged his face with one booted foot. "Well, it appears you have killed my colleague." He said pleasantly. Normally, Shade was the snarky one, and he was the controlled, polite one, but they deserved to be unnerved after shooting a...well, unknown thing without warning. "In the army, were you?"

The Captain nodded mutely, apparently in shock. Jerry nodding as if everything was now clear to him. "It was a very good shot." Jack spluttered something, far from his usual composure.

Jerry turned his attention to Shade. In his opinion, his partner was using this opportunity to act childish and show up MI5. It was his twisted sort of revenge for having to take this mission in the first place. Jerry looked down at him, straight in the closed eyes, knowing Shade could read what he was doing straight from his head. "Get up, you lazy son of a bitch." Jerry pulled his leg back to kick Shade in the ribs, but by the time he had any momentum, Shade was gone.

***

Shade cackled as Jerry's leg swung through open air. He laughed harder as the older man overbalanced and fell on his arse. He would have doubled over in normal circumstances, but he was a little occupied right now. The captain gulped as the knife crept closer to his jugular. Never before had he been so aware of the possibility of his very painful death. Being blown up had been softened by adrenaline, and though growing back had hurt like a bitch, the death itself hadn't been so bad. Now, fear was making him tremble.

"Dumbass," said his captor, shaking his head slowly at the irate man. His eyes turned harder, colder, and he tilted back his head so his whispered words travelled straight to Jack's ear. Jack didn't dare struggle, but the slim arms around him felt like concrete. And the way he moved...the guy had reached him within seconds. He hadn't even seen him move, it was that quick. There was no way he was human, and he was no alien Jack had ever seen.

"That hurt, Captain," hissed the dark man, "That hurt a lot. I bet you've been shot before, in the heart and everything. But what I can do to you...it's very painful." Shade stretched to his full height so Jack could feel that the man wasn't breathing. His own breath hitched in a kind of primal fear that he'd never felt before. He'd not been afraid like this for a long time. If they can't kill you, there's only so much stuff they can do. And you'll always outlast them, whatever deluded dreams of immortality they have. But this man holding a gleaming blade against his skin... "Very slow," the man continued, and Jack had to fight not to gasp and bring the knife closer.

"Shade, let the poor man go. You're scaring him."

Oh god, oh god, it was the sensible man! Thank fuck he was here. He seemed to have some semblance of control or at least an understanding with the Psycho, who is apparently called Shade. Appropriate, if a little arrogant.

The knife sliced through his skin, drawing a little line of blood across his neck. Jack did gasp this time. Then the arms left him, and Shade was standing in front of him, an odd look on his face. Jack couldn't help but stare at him. He was attractive in an 'I love, that's why I have to kill you', sort of way. He gasped in relief, breathing deep. He'd realised he'd been holding his breath. Ianto sprinted to his side and grabbed his shoulders. "You idiot," he said in an affectionate way, hugging him hard around the neck. Jack patted his hand almost distractedly, still staring at the psychopath and his bloodstained knife. He felt the familiar tingle of his skin healing over, the blood not even dried on top of it. He realised something, looking at the startling man, with a dark, self-deprecting look on his face. "You don't die." He said, stating it like a fact. And it was a fact, he'd been shot clean through the heart and got up and threatened to slit his throat moments later. "You don't die!" he said again. Just his luck to share eternity with the Doctor and Shade. Fuck, if they ever met...

"And you don't scar, do you, pretty boy?" the man in front of him said in a kind of jealous wonderment. "You have no idea, how lucky you are."

Jack realised he was right. He'd been blown apart and grown back completely flawless. All the times he'd been shot, and all that had been damaged was his clothes. He ducked his head in a weird sort of shame. "You do, then?" he asked, almost mumbling. Ianto nudged him gently with a shoulder. Jack looked at him and Ianto flicked his eyes up, and nudged him again. Jack got the message. He looked up, refusing to feel ashamed for something he could help, to see that Shade had tilted his head back and walked a few paces closer. From this distance, he could see the pale lines criss-crossing the man's pale skin. The neck was crossed four times at different angles. "How do you think I knew how much it hurt, pretty boy?" Shade said, laughing harshly. Then he turned away and skipped gaily back to Jerry, who ruffled his hair in a fatherly way, though Shade batted away his hand impatiently.

"I was shot." He said.

"Yes?" Jerry asked, raising an eyebrow benignly.

"So we can go home?"

"Shade, when have we ever gone home just because you were shot?"

"Peru?" Shade said hopefully.

"We left then because they cut your arms off. Not because you got shot, you wuss."

"Whatever, can we go home?" Shade said flippantly, while Jack's head filled with images of Shade screaming and thrashing in pain. It was weird, he just couldn't imagine anybody who could hold him down long enough.

"No." Jerry responded, flatly.

Shade pouted and crossed his arms. Jack raised an eyebrow to see a grown freak sulking like Steven used to years ago, before he grew out of it. It was surreal.

"Right," the older man said. "I'll leave you to it, shall I?"

Shade's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What do you mean, old man?"

Jerry was backing out the door quickly, Shade watching suspiciously, like a cat watches a mouse it is not sure it wants to catch. "I'm not old!" Jerry said quickly, before he made a run for it, slipping out of the door and slamming it. Shade launched himself at the door. "Jerry, you fucker, let me out! Don't leave me here! Seriously, Jerry!"

They could hear the sound of muffled laughter and the thunk of a deadbolt sliding into place. Shade screamed in anger and frustration. He didn't want to be here. He did not want to be here, with another immortal, his boyfriend and their female sidekick. They were like the fucking Welsh counterparts of him and Draco and Hermione. He couldn't handle it.

He kicked and hit at the huge metal doors, denting them but not breaking them. He stopped only when the skin on his knuckles spilt and blood made his hands tacky. He stood, breathing heavily for a few moments. He'd been locked in, and if Maria was smart, she wouldn't let him out. Because if she did, he was going back to Korea, nuclear threat or not. He'd had concert tickets, and he was sure that Big Bang hadn't actually performed yet...

He whirled to face the Torchwood team, who all looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Right. I know about this whole 456 threat. In fact, my godson has been having these seizures the past few days, and his parents are going to eat me if I fail at this." He caught a smile creeping at Jack's lips. Oh, yes, the grandson. He returned the expression, his grin razor sharp. "Oh, you think I'm joking. Ever met an angry werewolf, Captain Harkness?" Jack shook his head. "You're lucky. They're persistent little bastards."

Jack coughed, and raised a hand in a schoolboy gesture he hadn't even realised he remembered. He quickly lowered it, but it was too late. Shade had caught it and smiled a smile like a satisfied crocodile. He pointed extravagantly at Jack. "Yes, Mr. Harkness. Did you have something to say to the whole class?" Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the other two team members biting their lips to stop themselves from laughing.

"I did, as a matter of fact." Jack said through gritted teeth, glaring at the others.

"Oh?" Shade asked, rocking back on his heels.

"Yeah. Why is it you want to leave so bad? I mean, I get it, you hate Torchwood. But why?"

Shade became a little more serious. "Tosh worked here, remember?" Ianto glanced down, face filled with remembered grief and pain. "She was my friend. My sensei's granddaughter. I told her not to come here, but she accepted the offer. She killed for Torchwood, and Torchwood killed her. And, undoubtedly, it will try to kill me as well, at least once. Jerry knew this, and he used it against me. I guess he thought it was a good connection." He shrugged like a tree in the breeze: disconnected but graceful. "He was wrong."

Shade put out a quick scan while they were distracted by memories of their co-worker. Gwen, Ianto, Jack. First name terms were the only things he worked with. That was why he called his boss Maria, though his life would have been easier otherwise. In his experience, people put too much stock by family names. Going to war over it, even. Well, he thought, going as deep as he could without being detected with a telltale headache. "I know your files," he lied. "So here's a bit about me. Call me Shade. None of this Mr. or Agent crap. I use knives and swords over guns, but I can use a firearm if pressed. As you know, I don't die. I'm stronger than you, faster than you, and I can guarantee I am better than you at anything except computers." He considered for a moment. "And perhaps gardening." He flapped a hand. "Anyway.

"You" he pointed at Jack. "Stop picturing me naked. You're getting it all wrong." Jack had the good grace to look abashed, though Ianto didn't look all too surprised. A reputation, then. Have to watch him. He was trying very hard not to cheat on his boyfriend, but he was immortal, not immune to dashing army men.

"You," he continued, pointing at Gwen. "If you leave here unless something is trying to kill you, I will not be pleased. Can't have pregnant women running around shooting people." Gwen gaped at him. "How did you-" Shade cut her off by talking over her, which he found was more effective than any hand gesture. "Here." He fished in the pockets of his pockets and pulled out a sleek black mobile phone. He threw it at her, gently. She caught it two-handed, and looked at it bemusedly. "I don't know my number off by heart. It's on there, under 'Me'." She nodded, and began pressing buttons.

Shade turned to Ianto, who looked decidedly nervous, especially when Shade frowned. "You." Shade frowned deeper. "I like you," he said, saying the words like he couldn't quite believe them. "Though you could probably do better than Jack over there. And also, you're taller than me. You're actually a short person, who is taller than me."

The disgruntled look on his face made him look so human that Gwen spoke to him the same way she spoke to her other colleagues. "He's taller than me as well." She was rewarded for her boldness with a rakish smile that practically made her blush. "Well, good for us short people. We will someday rule the world." He noticed the spots of colour on her cheeks and repeated a sentence he'd said so many times. "Sorry sweetheart, I would, but I have a boyfriend." Gwen gave a rueful smile and made a woe-is-me gesture, and Shade winked at her, confirming that he too was only joking around. Jack turned to the younger man, a hint of something in his eyes. "Boyfriend?"

Shade winked at him as well. "Yeah dollface, couldn't you tell?"

Ianto whacked Jack on the shoulder. Jack gave him a 'only kidding' smile. Shade cast around the large empty-looking warehouse. "Have you got any coffee?"

"Yes, of course," Ianto said, making a move to the 'kitchen', which consisted of a few cracked mugs from Ikea and a coffee machine from Gwen's house which she'd brought here to keep her going. Shade waved him off.

"Don't be stupid," he said, walking smoothly to the 'kitchen'. "I'll get it."

"No, it's okay, I'm the 'tea boy'," Ianto said, with a self-deprecating twist of his mouth.

The look reminded Shade painfully of Remus after Teddy was born. He didn't trust himself. After Teddy's first full moon, when it became apparent that he had indeed inherited werewolf traits, Remus had tried to kill himself. Shade had found him in the family bathroom, bleeding from the wrists. It had taken a lot of control for him to heal up the man and not just drain him, especially with Remus encouraging him the whole time, with that same expression on his face.

"Go on, Shade, do it. I know you want to, I can smell it. Like I can smell your fear. Like I can smell Teddy. Like he will be able to smell me, after what I've done to him." That smile, the knowing smile that made Shade's gut turn, and the accusation attatched to his name.

"Shut up Remus. You're not going to die."

"I hope so," Remus said fiercely. "I hope so. I hope-"

"Don't be stupid. Teddy needs his father!"

"Not if that father is me," Remus snarled, raging against Shades arms, Shade who was pinning him to the bathroom floor with his bodyweight and bandaging his arms with strips torn from his shirt. It would be more productive for him to take the man downstairs and get a witch to use healing spells on him. But only Tonks was in the house, and she couldn't know what her husband had tried to do.

"Please kill me," sobbed Remus, thrashing still.

"Shut up!" growled Shade.

"You don't understand!" wailed Shade's surrogate father. "I've ruined his life!"

Shade turned to Ianto and met his eyes, feeling the shockwaves of surprise in Ianto's brain at their colour and the fierce emotion behind them. "Like I said," Shade said gruffly. "Don't be stupid."

"Like I said," Shade said, finally stopping the bleeding as Remus collapsed on the bathroom floor, crying in frustration, trying to reach his wrists again and rip off the makeshift bandages. "Don't be stupid."