-1He was gone. Both of them, gone but in different senses of the word. She got there too late. Page could not save the young Immortal. She tried so hard for so long to protect the man, but failed when it really mattered. The blue-eyed Immortal worked his way past her defenses. Richie Ryan. The first person in centuries, save Duncan MacLeod and one other, that Page let get close to her. She would never say she loved him though, at least not romantically. Romantic love did not exist, and on some days Page felt as though love itself in any form did not exist. It was simply a concept made up by idealists that thought there was good in everyone. Page knew better. She knew some people were just evil. Richie Ryan was more of a brother to her than anything. They flirted, and joked, but she never thought of Richie as anything more than a little brother. In that respect she would say she loved him. Now he was gone.

So was her closest friend, her mentor, her Yoda. Duncan MacLeod. He was the only man she could truly count on. He never let her down and she never gave up on him. Even when Joe Dawson said there was no way to save him after a Dark Quickening. Page never gave up. Duncan saved her life, showed her that life was worth living and taught her when to fight and when to hide. Now he was gone, and she felt lost. Page felt empty. It was a feeling she could honestly say in two thousand years she never felt. Her guidance, her friendship was gone. While Duncan MacLeod was still physically there, emotionally, mentally he was gone. Broken by the fact that he had killed the man he looked to as a son.

As she sat on the small plane, staring out the window, the images still haunted her. The look in Duncan's eyes, offering Methos his sword and begging Methos to kill him. The sight of the Quickening before she saw Richie's headless corpse. Images that would stay with Page for a very long time. Duncan left. No one knew where he went. With him gone Page decided to sever her ties. She packed up some clothes and headed to the airport. Page told know one what she was doing and even left her cell phone behind. Page boarded the only flight she had money for. A small plane headed from Paris to Cardiff in Wales. It was not far, but it would have to be far enough. Why she was on a plane was still a mystery to her. She had a terrible fear of heights and by extension, flying. It was a miracle Richie was even able to convince her to fly from the States to Paris in the first place. Richie had that way about him though. That smile that could make Page do just about anything.

Lucky for her the plane ride was short and uneventful. That could not be said however, for the next few months of her life. Everything started right away. She had been in Cardiff less than an hour. Her leather boots with a small heel on them smacked against the pavement. She looked somewhat out of place there. Dark jeans, a black t-shirt and a black leather jacket on top of all that was short fiery red hair. Page carried all her belongings in a small duffle bag that hung over her shoulders. She had just stepped into the street when she saw the SUV come to a screeching halt. Page pulled the earphones out of her ears. Part of this was her fault. She had not been paying attention but she chose to blame it on the SUV and the twat that was driving. She stopped and turned to glare at the driver.

The glare never made it to her face though. She squinted to see into the car and saw a familiar face. Part of her wanted to take off running. The last thing she needed was to be surrounded by someone she knew. Not just someone she knew but a man that knew how to work his way past every defense she had. She half noticed the driver, a young man with dark hair, motioning her to cross the street but she did not move. The passenger side door opened and he stepped out. It had been twenty-eight years since the last time they saw each other. She tried to fight back the smile on her face, but failed miserably. As much as she wanted to run away from him, it was comforting to see a familiar face.

"Page?" He seemed just as shocked to see her as she was to see him. Twenty-eight years. It was the longest she had gone, since she met him, without seeing Jack. For a moment she wondered why he even got out of the car, and did not just ignore her. Normally that was what he did. She'd see him, he'd pretend not to notice then find her later. Not this time though. He got out of the car and actually walked up to her while she counted four people in the SUV watched. Then she realized why he stopped, why he was standing in front of her and why there was actually concern in his blue eyes. She was crying. In the almost two hundred years she had known Jack she had never let him see her cry. Page was always strong. She quickly wiped away the tears as though they were never there. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she answered quickly. She could tell her voice stunned Jack for a moment. For the past year and a half Page had adopted an Irish accent while around Richie. She forgot that Jack had not heard her speak with one. Not that it mattered, she had been around for so long she knew so many accents. He smiled and it calmed her. He always had this odd comforting presence when he smiled. "Where's MacLeod?" Her silence told him more than any answer would. Page heard him sigh before she felt his arms around her. Normally she would protest greatly but she was broken and he knew it. She did protest a little, trying to push him away, get out of his grip but he would not let go. The only thing keeping he from completely breaking down was the fact that they were in public and at least four other people were watching. She heard the SUV go passed her and a few minutes later the four people that were inside were walking up behind Jack.

"Jack?" He turned around as a young woman called his name. It seemed to dawn on the both of them in that moment that they were standing in the middle of the street, so they both took a step to the side, and out of the way of oncoming traffic. Page quickly wiped the tears from her eyes, hoping that these four strangers did not notice.

Jack smiled at him and Page knew they were friends of his. When Jack started hanging around with 'friends' on a regular basis Page was unsure, but apparently he was. "This is Zeppie."

At that Page turned to him, red hair falling in her face, and she glared. Zeppie was a nickname Jack gave her the last time they met. She was fond of the nickname as long as it stayed between the two of them. "My name is Page," she corrected him.

Jack flashed that charming smile that he was so famous for. The one that made it impossible for Page to stay angry with him and sure enough her icy glare faded away. "Zeppie?" Her attention was grabbed by another voice. She turned to the man who addressed her. He was nothing special. Had to have only been a couple inches taller than her and he was rather thin, though his eyes caught her attention as well has his pants. She liked his pants. He seemed the most 'casual' of the group.

"Page," she told him simply. The man simply raised and eyebrow and stifled a laugh.

"She's a Zeppelin fan," Jack announced with a smirk.

"JACK!" Page punched him lightly in the shoulder and turned a bright shade of red, almost matching her hair.

He laughed and shook his head, playing it off as if it were nothing. "This is Gwen Cooper," he told her, pointing to the woman who addressed him. "Toshiko Sato, we call her Tosh," he said pointing to the other woman. "Ianto Jones and, you met Owen Harper."

"Umm… Hi?" She was unsure what to say. If Jack had friends before he never introduced them to Page. Why was he doing so now? Every time she saw the man he filled her with more questions. He was like a Rubic's Cube that no one would ever be able to master. She looked at the group and saw a look of caution on their faces. There was tension. Page had no idea they had just finished dealing with someone from Jack's past, and that it had not gone very well. It seemed to be a theme with Page.

Jack seemed to understand and he broke the awkward silence by clearing his throat first and chuckling a bit. "Page is harmless really."

For a moment Page flashed back to when she first met Richie. Duncan had said the same thing about her. A faint, bittersweet smile formed on her face but she wiped it away quickly and looked up at Jack. "Why does everyone keep saying that," she whined. "I can be dangerous!"

"Oh yeah, terrifying," Owen commented absently only to be met by Page's icy death glare.

"Trust me Page I know how dangerous you are. I just meant that you have no intentions on killing any of them."

Page was still glaring at Owen as Jack spoke. There was something about him that irritated her. "Not yet."

"Umm… who is she?" Ianto piped up. Page looked over at him, her gaze softening. He had an inviting face and blue eyes that reminded her so much of Jack's.

"An old friend." There was a hint of fondness in his voice that made Page smile. She was often left wondering whether Jack would even remember her the next time he saw her and each time he did. Perhaps she was not as forgettable as she thought. Page took note of the way Ianto looked at Jack and she smiled. She was worried for a moment that Jack might say what she was. Give away her secrets. She knew better than that though. Jack was the master of secrets. She was pretty sure she did not know anyone with as many secrets as Jack. She knew he would keep hers.

When Page looked back at Jack she noticed that he seemed to be studying her. Not in the normal way he used to, almost undressing her with his eyes (which usually led to actually undressing her later but that's neither here nor there), but instead as a fighter might assess an enemy. He was sizing her up. Surely he did not intend on picking a fight with Page. "Yes?"

"You're staying in Cardiff."

Page stared at Jack, then looked at his friend and back at him. Was that a inquiry or a command? "Excuse me?"

"You're staying in Cardiff. Trust me."

Page was going to comment but he stepped off to the side with Ianto. They were only away for a few seconds, then Ianto returned and the four of them left. It was just Jack and Page now. He turned back to her and Page smiled faintly. She let a bit of her defenses down, knowing that Jack would be able to get through them anyway. Page was exhausted, mentally and physically. All Jack did was look down at her and Page could feel the tears returning to her eyes. "Jack, its complicated and I really don't want to talk about it."

"MacLeod okay?"

Page looked up to him, a little baffled. As far as Jack knew the only thing that could make Page cry was if something happened to Duncan. In a way it did but it was not Duncan that devastated Page, it was Richie. She sighed and shook her head. "Yes and no. In the living and still has his head kind of way, yes he's fine. In the psychological kind of away… not so much. I told you Jack, its complicated." She looked down as they began to walk across the street, this time with no oncoming traffic. Page stuffed her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket and sighed, glancing over at Jack. "You still have that coat I see." He laughed and nodded. "So, mystery man. Why am I staying in Cardiff aside from the fact that this was as far as my money would take me and I should have planned things better because I didn't even keep enough money for a room." She looked up at Jack and shook her head. "Brilliant huh?"

"Don't worry Page. I can make arrangements. Trust me. You'll want to stay."

"Why?" Unfortunately by now Page had not learned the number one rule of dealing with Jack Harkness. Never ask "what" or "why".

He smirked stopping for a moment and turning her to face him. "Torchwood."