Day 1.
They weren't gone long. Ten minutes later, Ianto checks something on his computer, and you know it's the CCTV cameras outside. Jack and the team are back. You wonder when you are, in which part of their timeline. You saw the date on the papers outside, right before running away from that thing that you suspect of being a Weevil, but you don't know for sure because the lights in Cardiff are too dim at night, and it said it was 2007. Which means, if you saw correctly, that their adventure has just started, and you're here to help — at least you hope you can.
They enter by the front door, which is a bit surprising. They know you're waiting for Jack. Ianto had told them a while ago. Honestly, you don't know what to expect, and you aren't prepared for what you're going to see. Torchwood Three is a group of five, as usual, if you count Ianto in, but instead of Gwen, you see Suzie. And that's when you know this is literally just the beginning.
"Well?" Jack asks you. You don't really know what to say. You're here for a job, but it's hard to get a job at Torchwood. The only thing you know is that you have to talk to Jack in private. You don't want the rest of the team to know, especially Suzie.
But Jack being Jack, you know that if you ask that, he'll turn that into some innuendo, and really, that's the last thing you need.
You remember how they've got computers and stuff in the SUV, and you wonder if they've researched you already. You know they'll do that at some point, and you know what they'll find. Nothing. Because your Lucy Blake doesn't exist.
You have to say something, so you won't look stupid, but what can you say? The truth isn't an option, not with so many people around anyway. What you're trying to create is an alternate reality, an alternate universe if you will. And that's quite an ambitious feat you're hoping to accomplish.
You don't know what to say, so you settle for a question. "Well?"
He raises an eyebrow. "You're the one who wanted to talk to me."
"I know." You're the only ones that speak with an American accent, and suddenly it's weird for you, to speak with that accent in Cardiff. It hadn't been before, when you were visiting, and you know it really shouldn't be that weird, but your brain has the uncanny ability on focusing the entirely wrong details at exactly the wrong time. Back to the conversation, "But I thought you'd be more curious about how I know your name. It's strictly confidential, isn't it?"
And suddenly, the scenery changes, and you don't know how, but you're in Jack's office, the two of you alone, and you know this is an interrogation. The others are carrying on with their work, but you know they're all curious to know who you are. You've made yourself into a mystery — that's one thing you've done right, at least. Let's see if you can get the rest of it right too.
"Let's start with the basics then," Jack says. "Who are you and who told you about us?"
The question is so simple, yet you just want to laugh. You can't answer that. Your name? You've told them your new identity, that should be enough, so you ignore that part, and move on to the next part of the question, which you wonder if he will believe. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," you say. You've heard those words before, in movies, and books, and you always thought it was a cliché move, but now you know why they say that. Even though deep down you know they will believe you, eventually, you feel like they won't, like you've gone crazy.
And how do you know you haven't, anyway? How do you know this is real at all?
"Try me," he says.
And though your doubts remain, that's what you do. You answer honestly. "I first found out about you through Doctor Who," you don't even bother to explain. You know you'll get there eventually, but it all seems too crazy to be true, "and Tumblr made me want to check you guys out."
He's confused, you know that. He doesn't know what Doctor Who is, but you expected him to know at least what Tumblr is.
"Doctor Who? What the hell is that?" he asks.
You swallow. Saying it out loud will sound crazy, you know that. They'll lock you up in a mental ward, and you'll never be able to get out. You look around and remember. This is Torchwood. If someone will believe you, it's Captain Jack. "A TV show," you answer, not quite looking at him in the eyes. "From where I come from, you're all fictional characters." You look at Owen and Tosh working, and you think about how much you shipped them, and how much it broke your heart when they both died, and Owen remarks they never had that date they were finally going to have. You blink, tears starting to form, and you drift your thoughts to something else, something less painful. But this is Torchwood. Fictional or not, this is painful as hell.
When you look back at Jack, you know that he has mixed feelings about this. He knows it could be true, but the idea sounds so ridiculous he can't help it but question the veracity of your words.
"Go on, ask me something about your life, see if I can answer that," you ask, even though you know it's stupid. They don't show his whole life on the show. Just bits of it, and with him being immortal, it's even harder to know about his entire life.
"All right," Jack says. He thinks of something no one else would know. "When was I born?"
You stare at him. Did he really ask that? That's the easiest question in the world! "Fifty-first century," you answer immediately. "Don't know the exact date, just the century." You shrug, as if apologizing, but why would you apologize? It's not your fault. If anything, it's creepy enough that you already know some of his life — enough to be confident you'll be able to answer a reasonable amount of questions he asks about it.
"Then how come I'm here, if this is the twenty-first century?" He wants you to prove that you didn't just read a file about him, though there's no file about him that says his real date of birth. At least you don't think so. And even if there was, how would you get your hands on it anyway?
Well, that's what Jack wants to know, and you have to prove the truth to him, so he won't start believing these strange theories your brain comes up for you.
"At some point you became a Time Agent, then a con-man and you travelled to the twentieth century, I think. In fact, Jack Harkness isn't your real name at all." You remember the episode, but swiftly push the thought away before you start rambling. Stick to necessary information only, you think. You don't want to creep him out too much just yet. "Anyway, then you met the Doctor during the London Blitz," this time you remember the episodes, that had been split up in two, and remember how creepy they both were (Are you my mummy?), "and decided to travel with him after Rose convinced him to take you with them." You remember Rose and the Doctor, travelling together, but you push it away before you can get to "Doomsday". "Then you died and were brought back—" You stop yourself before you can tell him what happened — how he was brought back by Rose, who'd absorbed the Time Vortex. "That's another story. Anyway, after that, you were left in Satellite 5 — or the Game Station — but with your Vortex Manipulator," you point at something that looks like a wristwatch that's on his left wrist, "you tried to find the Doctor. You arrived in Cardiff, 1869, and you were recruited for Torchwood twenty years later." You cringe at the memories of how he joined Torchwood. Those girls, from Torchwood Three were so cruel, you'd started to doubt their humanity.
He's visibly troubled — and with good reason. "Okay, let's say you're right. If I did come back in 1869, then why am I still alive?"
"Simple. When you were brought back," you avoid Rose's name, "you were brought back forever. You can't die. Not ever." You drift away again, but before it can get any serious, you force yourself to push away the memories. No need to give him any leads about what he doesn't know yet, or about what's going to happen.
He's about to say something, but someone knocks on the door. It's Suzie. You resist the urge to glare at her, it would only make things worse. "Jack, I need to speak with you," she says. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. You know she suspects something, and if you're not careful, you might be her next victim — if there is one. You don't remember that episode really well.
"Uh, not now, Suzie," Jack says.
"But—" she insists, but Jack cuts her off.
"We'll talk later." Suzie clenches her jaw, and leaves. You know it's not a good idea to piss Suzie off. Not when she's going through her murder crazy phase.
You look down at your backpack. You have your computer there, with all the episodes of your favorite shows, all your movies and all. "I've got proof," you say.
Jack raises an eyebrow, and you take that as a "Show me". You take out your computer, which has a Torchwood background. You'd forgotten about that slight detail. You slip in your password — which is also Torchwood-related, but Jack doesn't get to see that. Then you look for the first episode in the series and show him the first five minutes of the show. He looks surprised, and glances alternatively between you and the screen.
"That's exactly what happened today," he mumbled, but you can still hear him.
"Shit," you curse, and you ignore Jack when he looks back at you, a confused look on his face.
"How did you get here?" he asks you.
"I was visiting Cardiff, back in my universe," you remember, "and I found out there was also a rift in time and space over there. I packed my stuff, just in case, and one day, I was going to a restaurant with my friends, and I just disappeared, and appeared here. I knew it was another universe because of the slight differences between here and there. Well, that and it's night-time here. It was the middle of the day when I disappeared," you admit.
"How did you know Torchwood existed in this universe?"
"I didn't. I just saw that thing and… took my chances."
Then Jack starts telling you about how he's going to find a place for you to stay, since you don't have any money or a place of your own. He asks Ianto to drive you the place he found, and all you can think about is how their relationship is going to change from now on — because of course your brain is focusing on totally the wrong details once more.
When you get to the apartment — or, should we say, flat — you thank Ianto before entering it. Then, you take a look around. It's rented, and the furniture is already there. You leave your stuff on the couch, which is white. It's very minimalist, to be honest. White couches, a glass coffee table, and a glass table, a normal though a bit narrow kitchen, even though there's not much to eat, a small study, with empty bookshelves, a desk and a gray HP printer, a blue bathroom, and a small bedroom with a queen-sized bed and a drawer.
You take your bag and start emptying it. You know you're going to stay here for a while. You put the books you brought in the bookshelf, the few clothes in the drawers, and your computer on the desk in the study. Before going to sleep, you don't watch TV. You take your favorite book, and read in bed, until you feel your eyes closing. You put the book on the nightstand and turn off the lights before falling into a deep sleep.