AHA! 2 years have passed and I have returned! Unless my time machine messed up again...
Anyway. I don't believe this installment to be up to the (already low) standards of the previous chapter. This could be either to having never written for Torchwood before, or because Progressive Rock is less inspiring than Doom Metal. Either way, I did my best. Please R+R and help me improve.
Quick point: the Torchwood team used in this here story is lifted directly from Flinch-Hayward's fic Fourteen in the Torchwood section. Read it. Tis good. Now, on with the tale.
The Aforementioned Churchyard, Whortleby, England, 1953
"Ed? Ed? ED!" The sound carried on the night air, bourne on the gentle breeze like a feather, drawn towards waiting ears.
"Ed! Where are you? Are you hiding from me?" She continued to call his name, not knowing how hollow and empty her words sounded to the watcher in the shadows. "Grow up Ed! I know you're here son!" She stepped around the tombstones, her heels digging into the soft ground beside the path. Her step takes her fowards towards watching, hungry eyes.
"Ed...?" Worry creeps into her voice as she hears a sound, a creeping, dragging noise. Startled, she spins around.
"Oh, it's you Mr Hegarty!" she sighed, the relief evident in her voice. She grunts at an unexpected pain in the small of her back.
Her vision blurs, and when it clears she finds herself looking up at the full moon, obscured behind the trees, slowly rising above the truimphant smile of Mr Hegarty.
A Hill Overlooking the Sea, Whortleby, England, 2010
"Ah." The Doctor swept his homburg hat onto his head and bowed slightly. A look of confusion flickered in Jack's eyes, but nothing more than a flicker.
"Doctor, I presume. How long's it been for you?" Jack grinned at the exasperated expression on the Doctor's face, yet failed to notice him sliding left and right, as if hiding something or someone behind him.
"Hmmm, quite a while. What you would call 7 years about matches up," the Doctor said, not quite looking at Jack and continuing his odd left to right shuffle.
"Too long then," Jack replied and looked over the Doctor's head into the TARDIS, with an almost wistful look. His attention was diverted as Ianto strode towards him, not noticing the new arrivals, nor their equipment, standing alongside Jack, him being too engrossed in fiddling with his PDA.
"Right, I've almost got a fix on..." Ianto tailed off, and looked questioningly at Jack.
"Ianto! Meet my good friend the Doctor. Doctor, this is Ianto, Head archivist and coffee boy extraordinaire!" Jack grinned again and drew Ianto towards him.
"Good friend is taking a bit far, shall we say 'mild aquaintance'. Well, that's to say, 'we've met'. Sort of. I've seen him before."
"We were engaged once," Jack said with a sidelong glance at Ianto, noting his expression.
"That was purely business!" the Doctor spat, not noticing the odd, envious glance Ianto threw at him. Jack suddenly grabbed the Doctor in a huge hug, whose cry of outrage was muffled by Jack's coat. Upon being released, the Doctor straightened himself out and adjusted his hat.
"Your, um, equipment is rather small," Ianto muttered, glancing up at the police box with almost a hint of disdain.
"You wouldn't say that if you knew him," Jack said with a wink. Ianto ignored this. The Doctor looked incensed.
"What's behind you that you don't want us to see?" Ianto enquired of the Doctor, causing Jack to look up suspiciously, both at Ianto's statement and the Doctor's involuntary yell of shock and pain. Nadrin pushed her way past him, apoplectic with rage.
"What the fuck was that?" Nadrin spat angrily at him, with a fury in her eyes akin to a Scotsman whose pint has been spilt.
"Language, Nadrin," the Doctor gently chided her. She drew herself up to her full, not very considerable height, preparing for an argument, but she wilted under the Doctor's stern stare.
"Sorry, Doctor," she murmured, hanging her head. She looked up at him when he didn't reply, to see the Doctor smiling ruefully at her. He tutted and gave her a gentle hug.
"Forgiven," he whispered. Nadrin smiled and broke away from the hug.
"I'm open to hugs if you want more," Jack said, arms spread.
"Touching," Ianto muttered. The Doctor looked at him in alarm, taking hold of Nadrin protectively.
"Not in that way!"
"Mr Harkness! Quick! It's happened again!" The voice floated up from the seafront, and Jack sighed.
"CAPTAIN HARKNESS!" Gathering his coat about him he strode off down the coastal path. Nadrin slipped from the Doctor's grasp and trotted after him.
"Who are you two anyway?" she asked, jogging slightly to keep up. Jack slowed his pace to match hers.
"We're Torchwood, protecting the Earth from all kinds of alien threat. Why, would you like a position? #69 is free, or you can join Ianto and be a missionary."
The Doctor winced as a jarring crunch of boot on shin rent the fresh sea air.
I'll try to write some more, if you like, but I'm away on holiday soon. If I do finish this fic and the reception is good, or if mild interest is shown, then I may even write about how the Doctor met Nadrin, or how their short lived and rather painful engagement occurred.
Also, my good friend Flinch-Hayward and I are going to try and run our stories in parallel, which could yield some interesting results...
Well, I say good friend. More of an aquaintaince. That's to say, we've met. Sort of. I've seen her before.