Disclaimer: I still don't own Doctor Who or Torchwood. I still give full credit for all things from those shows to the brilliant people who created/own/work on them. The only character that's mine is still Cate.

A/N: Thank you all very much for the reviews! I'm very glad you seem to like it so far . Also, I'm sorry it took a while for me to update, but I am in college and that means there's all sorts of work to do sigh. Thank you for your patience; I promise I will be updating this story, even if it takes a bit of time for the next section to go up!

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August 4, 2007

It's 7:30 in the morning here and I only just woke up half an hour ago, but the Hub is already bustling with activity. Jack's been up for a while – his movement woke me up for a few minutes at 5:00! – and Ianto said he's been here since 6, getting the coffee ready and what-not. Tosh arrived a few minutes ago; I heard her tell Jack she wanted to get a head start on something important-sounding that I didn't quite follow. According to Ianto, Owen and Gwen will get in around 8:00, which is the time everyone (besides himself, and obviously Jack who lives here) usually comes to work.

So here I am, sitting on the couch, eating the corn muffin that Ianto brought me (because, "I haven't the slightest idea what, if anything, Jack does for breakfast, and I figured you'd be too polite to ask" – he was right about that, by the way). Jack's in his office on the phone to U.N.I.T.; Tosh is typing away madly and looking quite determined; Ianto's popping in and out between the main area and the storage areas of the Hub with various and sundry bizarre items in his hands. Various and sundry bizarre alien items. And none of them appear to think that any of this is at all unusual.

So, how on Earth did I find myself caught up in this?

Like I mentioned, I was "on holiday" with my parents. It was my graduation gift; I'd always wanted to go to Great Britain and Ireland, so my parents decided we'd go the summer before I went to college. The day all of this happened was our first day in Cardiff, and I'll never forget, I had just been looking at that big waterfall-rock-thing, where the lift for Torchwood is in Roald Dahl Plass, thinking about how awesome it would be if I were really standing on top of some super-secret agency that fights aliens (and the occasional freakish cannibal). Ironically, I vividly remember thinking that unless I got really lucky and somehow landed a role on the show someday, I was at that moment as close as I was ever going to get to Torchwood. Shortly thereafter, my parents and I started heading off to find a nice little place to eat lunch. I got a bit ahead of them, but I didn't think much of it; my gait is naturally faster than both of my parents', so this was nothing unusual. Until, at least, I realized that I wasn't hearing them talk anymore.

I figured I must have gotten too far ahead, so I turned around to check just how far behind they were… and discovered that I couldn't see them at all. Even so, I just figured they had fallen way behind. I waited a minute or two; when they were still completely M.I.A., I tried calling my dad. But despite both of our cell phones' international calling capabilities, the call wouldn't go through; the message on the other end was a soft Welsh voice, saying, "I'm sorry, but this number is not in service" (which was very strange, as my grandmother had just successfully called his phone that morning). So now I was starting to get a little concerned.

I headed back to the waterfall-rock-thing, assuming that my parents would think to look for me there when they realized we were separated. After waiting there for a good half hour, though, it finally started to sink in: they weren't around. I had no idea at that point what could have happened (and even if I had had theories, I guarantee they wouldn't have been anywhere near correct, anyway), but I knew that my best bet was to go to the police.

I got to the police station and told them my story; they were all very kind and sympathetic. They had me try calling my dad again, but the recorded Welsh woman just told me the number wasn't in service, same as before. Then, they had me try calling my mom. That's when things started getting even stranger: that number apparently wasn't in service, either. I tried calling my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, my cousins, my friends… and got the same result every time. I figured something was wrong with my cell phone (even though it was pretty new – what a great time to have a defective phone!), until one of the policemen had me try calling his cell phone – that call went through! Then he tried calling mine, and that worked, too. So my cell phone was working after all… but how could everyone else's numbers (including some land lines!) not be in service!?

None of the police officers had an explanation for me. So, the man who had been helping me test my cell phone (I found out his name was PC Lee) took me into his office and told me that he was going to call in some "special detectives" who specialize in "strange cases" like mine. At any other time, I would have immediately thought of Torchwood – not seriously, of course, but I would have chuckled at the similarities between life and the show (something strange had happened to me right over where the Rift should be, and now the police were calling in the special ops because of it!). But I was so frazzled by then that I only subconsciously processed his words. I'd never been all that close to my parents, but still, they were my parents. They might be in trouble, and there wasn't room for anything else in my mind but that.

Needless to say, I was therefore extremely shocked – and a bit frightened – when PC Lee returned with his "special detectives": Captain Jack Harkness and Gwen Cooper!

And it was really them; not John Barrowman and Eve Myles, but Captain Jack Harkness and Gwen Cooper. I mean, Jack had that coat; John Barrowman, I'm sure, would not wear that in the street. And unless my parents had gone mental (and suddenly had connections to the BBC they didn't tell me about) and planned this whole thing as an elaborate trick – which was highly unlikely, with my parents – the police definitely would not kid around by pretending to call in Torchwood. It had to be them, the real deal.

Of course, there was the small issue of that being impossible, but as the two "special detectives" had come to do business, I didn't get much chance to ponder the finer points of what was in front of my eyes; they quite quickly dismissed PC Lee ("beyond the police", alright) and got to work.

Conveniently, "getting to work" involved an introduction. The woman who had-to-be-but-couldn't-be Gwen Cooper pulled PC Lee's chair out from behind his desk and put it closer to mine. She flashed a very friendly (and very Gwen-like) smile.

"Hello. I'm Gwen Cooper," – Oh, my God, she is Gwen Cooper! – "and this is my boss, Captain Jack Harkness." She motioned to the man that really-was-but-really-couldn't-be Jack, who'd remained standing. "We're going to help you find your parents."

I don't know what came over me – I'd promised myself as soon as they walked in the door I wouldn't complicate things by letting them know I knew about them (and certainly not how I knew!), if they were even really the real Torchwood at all! But something snapped when she gave their names, confirming (though not explaining) the impossible. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "I know who you are. You're Torchwood."

They looked surprised for just a second, then covered it well. Jack walked over and stood next to Gwen's chair.

"Yes, we are. We're Torchwood," Jack said, looking me right in the eye. "Have you had dealings with us before?"

Well, there was no point in hiding now. (Not that I could have, anyway, with Jack staring me down like that. If he was trying to stop me from lying, it was very effective.) I still didn't understand what had happened, or how, but I was clearly truly talking to the real Gwen and Jack. That being completely bizarre – people don't often meet fictional characters, after all – my story would be right up their alley. If anyone could help me make sense of what was going on, it was Torchwood. So, despite sounding completely insane, I decided I may as well tell them the truth – strongly praying that they would believe me.

"I – uh, no," I answered. Not so smoothly, I might add. "I've never – we've never met, if that's what you mean. But I… Well…" I paused and took a deep breath. "I think I fell through the Rift, because last time I checked Torchwood was a TV show."

Jack's expression didn't change – I have to say, from what I'd seen on Torchwood, I didn't really expect it to – but Gwen was less reserved.

"A – a what?! I … no. No, I'm quite real, thank you. All of this," she motioned around the room, "quite, quite real!" She paused, looking concerned, then turned in her chair to face Jack. "Isn't it?"

For the first time since entering the room, Jack's expression finally softened. He even gave a small smile as he answered, "There are all different types of reality, Gwen. But yes, this is real." He looked at me again. "And I'm sure you'd agree? TV program or not… This all does seem real to you now, doesn't it?"

I nodded vigorously. "Oh yeah. Definitely real."

I felt the flood gates open up again with that assessment. "But… but how!? I mean, okay, different realities, sure, but if I fell through the Rift back in my dimension, that means the Rift exists there, which means all this, it's been real all along in my dimension, even though it's a TV show… How is that possible!?"

Jack gave a genuine smile this time. "If I've learned anything in my life thus far, it would be this: Don't. Question. The Rift. It just makes your head spin." I couldn't help but smile back.

"But," he continued, "there is one small issue here. You could be lying. You could be extremely skilled at hacking into computer systems, and found out about Torchwood that way. You could be an alien who knows someone from their home planet that's met us before. Or, you could really be one very lost young woman who's trapped in what used to be just a TV program to her. But I don't know."

Jack walked around Gwen's chair and toward me a bit more. Again, he looked me straight in the eye – definitely trying to find any traces of lying, I decided – and said, "So, tell me something only an omniscient TV-viewer like –presumably – yourself would know. Something that was said or done when no one else was around to hear."

Grinning at the example that came to mind, I asked, "No one but you and who you were talking to? Will that do?" Jack nodded. "Good. So this isn't from Torchwood, actually, but from the show it spun-off from – "

Gwen interrupted. "Spun-off!? We're Torchwood and we're just a spin-off?!"

"A very successful spin-off, I promise!" I laughed. I found it funny – and heartening – that despite how bothered Gwen appeared by what I was saying, she was still able to object to the fact that Torchwood wasn't the original show. I looked back at Jack. "Anyway, how about this: she was hanging from a barrage balloon, and you had an invisible space ship. You never stood a chance."

Jack smiled, nostalgically. "That I didn't. No one ever did, with Rose." He sighed. "You have a lot in common with her, now, you know – same thing, essentially, happened to both of you."

"Yeah… yeah, I'd thought of that, actually," I answered.

Then I realized something. "Wait – if you're saying the same thing happened to me and Rose… does that mean you believe me?"

"I can't think of any way you would have known about that conversation besides having seen it on TV," Jack responded. He paused. "Well. That's a statement you don't often make about yourself."

"So… really, then?" Gwen asked. "Really? We're a TV program where she comes from? And… we believe that?"

Jack turned to her. "Got a better explanation?" That question could have been rude, but somehow, it wasn't.

"Well, no, but… Jack, I've seen quite a few bizarre things in my time with Torchwood. She's not the first person I've seen come through the Rift; I can handle the whole 'other dimension' thing, even, but how can we be a TV program!?" Poor Gwen seemed as confused as I was.

"Remember what I said earlier, Gwen? 'Don't question the Rift, it makes your head spin'?" Jack asked. Gwen nodded. "Well, then, don't question the Rift. Your head will spin.

"Look, I know it doesn't seem possible, but the Rift… We don't know the half of what it can do." Jack was addressing both Gwen and me now. "We'll have Tosh run some scans – sorry," he looked at me, "but we have to be absolutely sure you're not an alien or anything…"

"I understand," I assured him.

"Good," he smiled. "So we'll have Tosh scan her, but as long as she comes up human… what choice do we have but to believe her? What she says makes no sense… But, in a way, it's actually the only thing that does."

Gwen nodded, but was still doubtful. "I just don't understand how I can be real in one dimension and mere fiction in another. I am really… real, aren't I?"

I genuinely felt bad for the confusion I had (however inadvertently) caused Gwen. I tried to reassure her as best as I could. "I'm not really an expert on this stuff, but you do seem rather real to me. This is just… an alternate reality from mine. Just as real, only… different. Like Jack said before."

Gwen smiled at me. "And I suppose, I'm not going to get a more definitive answer than that, am I?"

"Most likely not," Jack answered. "So, if we're done pondering the meaning of existence…" He paused and turned to me with a smile. "Let's get you back to the Hub."