(A/N: Behold, a continuation! I didn't originally intend to write one, but c'est la vie. There's a lot of fun to have with Jack and Helena...)

Chapter One

Getting to London was complicated, but Jack managed. Helena Wells had invited him into her own home— "Trap," he commented. With a smile, he knocked on the door, prepared for any eventually. He knew Helena Wells by reputation alone, but what a reputation.

The maid showed him to the sitting room, where Helena was pouring tea from a porcelain rosebud teapot. Her hair was done up elaborately and fashionably, while she was dressed in trousers, a man's white shirt, and a double-breasted midnight blue waistcoat.

"How excellent to see you, Captain," she said, a sparkle in her voice. That was the game, then. He took her hand and kissed it, the picture of a gentleman.

"Likewise, Miss Wells."

"I assume you'd rather not take tea?" She sipped her own cup, the picture of innocence.

"Actually, I am thirsty from the journey." Jack sat across from Helena, doing his best to keep a roguish smile from sneaking onto his face. "With sugar, please?"

"Of course." If she was surprised that Jack was seemingly careless for the potential of poison, it didn't show as she added sugar to his tea.

"You have something for me, Miss Wells?" Jack took the tea and sipped it. If it was poisoned, she'd done it well. Then, he hadn't expected anything less.

"First, a proposition." She leaned forward with a smile. "And not the sort I'm sure you're expecting, Mr. Harkness. That can come later. No, I am referring to a partnership of an entirely different sort…"

"Torchwood and the Warehouse?" Jack finished his tea and put down the cup. "I'm listening."

"Despite our differences, our goals are the same— to protect the world from that which is not understood. The Warehouse deals in those objects that were created by humans, while Torchwood's interests lie in the extraterrestrial."

"Who said anything about extraterrestrials?"

"The Doctor. More tea?"

"Doctor?" Jack stared as Helena took that as a yes and poured him more tea. "He's been here?"

"I never expected an alien to resemble so closely Oscar Wilde. By the way, I haven't poisoned the tea— that would be quite counterproductive to my goals."

Jack slumped and accepted the teacup from Helena. "Oscar Wilde."

"I heard he had a habit of changing bodies. Which was yours?"

"Big ears, leather jacket."

"In any case, I'm quite aware of the goals of Torchwood. Quite clearly, we differ in jurisdiction." Helena reached into her waistcoat pocket and lay Hatshepsut's earrings on the table. "Our neutralizer failed to affect these. We have shelves of such items, in fact. I postulate that these items are not Artifacts, but alien."

Jack took the earrings and examined them. Gold and lapis. "They're fitted with a perception filter. They weren't actually hers— they belonged to a friend of mine."

"Should these things have been causing havoc, it would have been a disaster." Helena spread jam on a scone as Jack pocketed the earrings. "We should clearly coordinate our efforts in the future."

"I don't have the authority for an alliance," Jack said, sitting back and sipping tea.

"And who said I did? Scone, Captain?"

"Please, Jack." He nodded.

"Helena, then. Jam?"

"Please."

"What I'm suggesting is not, technically, an alliance between the Warehouse and Torchwood. It is an alliance between us, personally. If you're interested…"

Jack leaned forward, studying Helena's face. She sipped her tea, the slightest smile gracing her face. "I'm mostly Torchwood cannon fodder."

"I'm on probation."

"So we're both putting our jobs and lives on the line." Jack smiled. "I'm in."

Helena raised her teacup. "To a most pleasant working relationship, Jack."

"And a close partnership." They toasted their alliance with a smile, conveniently leaving out anything about trust.