Magella is sixteen, told from Jack's POV

Magella was four the first time she ran away from home. She came here to Torchwood, and she stayed with us for two years. The second time she was sixteen, practically a lady, and she didn't even stay two days. It hadn't been that long for us. It really hadn't, it had been weeks maybe, just under a month. There was still leftover holiday candy and some souring eggnog lying about the hub. We hadn't been prepared for the precocious child who had just been there at Christmas to grow up so quickly. I didn't recognize her at first, how could I have? She had just been here.

"Uncle Jack!" She had come in with Gwen who looked very much like she was trying very hard not to be completely lost in the conversation. She looked like she had stepped out of some grungy war themed video game, dirt smudged her cheeks, and her clothes weren't in any better shape, torn and filthy. She had a ruck sack slung over one shoulder. She was cheerful enough though, and kept up a stream of steady chatter, not leaving enough room for anyone to get a word in edgewise.

"You really need to redecorate, it looks exactly like last time. When was last time anyways? A year ago I think, we were supposed to be here for like a few hours to see a play, turned into a few days. We got the year wrong though, went to the new Men in Black movie, which worked out fine, I like popcorn, but then there was that mess with the aliens brainwashing people through the advertisements, didn't really clear that one up, they'd been doing it for years anyways, buy coke, turn off your cellular devices. I need to borrow your vortex manipulator."

It took me a moment too long to register what she was asking. I had already taken it off and dropped it into her hands when I finally managed to put together a hasty "It doesn't work" cutting off the end of her thanks.

"Oh but it will, I'm very clever." She was already fiddling with it, pulling tools out of her bag, clearly tools that didn't belong on twenty first century earth. "There's a concert, in the sixties, the Back Street Boys, I thought I'd sneak out and go see it."

I lifted something out of her open bag that looked suspiciously like a battered vote Saxon poster. "I think we both know you aren't going to see a concert, especially not the Back Street Boys, and not in the nineteen-sixties, might want to try the Beatles next time though, I've heard good things about them."

She snatched the poster away smoothing it before folding it again. I crossed my arms, "What is this really about Mags?" The teen didn't look up though, "Magella. Where are you really going?"

She squirmed slightly under the scrutiny, shuffling a bit, "I have an… internship… with the British prime minister, I'll get college credit and everything for it."

"In 2008?" She nodded hesitantly, and I shook my head. "Magella..."

She finally whirled on me, "I'm sick of people treating me like a child. I'm all that is keeping this family together and I need to understand what I'm fighting against and if no one will tell me I'll find out for myself."

"You might not like what you find." I warned even as she slung her bag back over her shoulder.

She shook her head, "I'm sorry Jack." She vanished before I could say another word.

She was seventeen when she returned an hour and a half later.