Here goes...Chapter Two, hope you like it!
Oh and of course I don't own the premise of Torchwood, Ianto and Lisa etc. But Sarai, Jeff and Elle are all mine :P
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Sarai could not keep the grin from her face- she was going to meet the Doctor- the last of his kind - Timelord Doctor! She barely paid mind as a young blonde in a labcoat walked past, unnecessarily flashing what looked like an ID in her direction - probably an intern - thought they needed to show it to everyone.
..--..--..--..
Lisa had logged one of the computers onto the ADMIN account and most of the office was sitting round watching the CCTV footage on the screen, which showed the Doctor and Yvonne on one of the top levels.
Most of the workers had bought their lunches round and were munching on sandwiches and salads as they stared.
"So who's that with him then?" one asked.
"It's gotta be his companion isn't it?" another reasoned.
"Can't you get sound Lisa?"
"No, I bloody well cannot. Isn't it enough I hack into the footage for you? Ungrateful people," Lisa scolded, but she was smiling.
"What time is it?"
"Coming up to the next ghost shift."
"Excellent, see what he makes of this!"
"What?!"
"Why did he stop it?"
..--..--..--..
That was the day everything changed. The day the comforting and familiar ghosts turned into the nightmare's that would plague the survivors for years after. Time sped up and slowed down alterately, one moment they were laughing; Ianto could see his collegues heads shaking in slow motion, the methodical chewing of lunches; and the next there was screaming and terror. Men monsters coming for them. He could hardly recall what had happened; he knew Lisa had taken charged, as she was so gifted at doing, and calmed everyone down. Made sure no one left the office, tried to contact other floors, access the situation. She was brilliant.
And then...
"Hello? Hello? Can anyone hear me? Where the hell is the Doctor?" An all too familiar voice was crackling over the com-units on the telephone. The crowd grew silent.
"Sarai, can you hear me?" Lisa called down the phone.
"Hello? Anyone there?"
"We're here, Sarai we're here."
"Will someone answer me?"
"She can't hear us," Lisa turned to Ianto, "She doesn't know what's happened."
Ianto closed his eyes tightly and swallowed the panic which threatened to engulf him. Breathing deeply he took her hand in his and said, "Lisa, you have to stay here, it's safer. These things are Daleks; one blast from that gun and you are dead. No question. Forever. Sarai is down there, with no idea what is going on, but if I go now I should be able to reach her before they do."
"Safer?"
"Yes, as long as the Doctor is here you just have to keep away from the Daleks long enough for him to work out how to fix this."
"And what if he doesn't?"
"He will. He always does. I need to go now so stay here." He pulled his hand away from hers and turned to go.
"Fuck you Ianto Jones," she growled, but her eyes told him it was alright, as her hand let go of his. Then, as a second thought, she grabbed hold of it again and pulled him into a passionate kiss, "Fuck you." I love you.
..--..--..--..
"We're going to die, aren't we?" Elle asked quietly. Jeff couldn't bring himself to reassure her. They had watched from their office window as the "ghosts" had turned on the humans below. When Jeff had found her, it was already too late to try and make their way back to the others on the floor above. Instead they settled down, waiting to see what would happen, along with the other people trapped in the office.
Twenty minutes later, Jeff, Elle and dozens of others were shocked when a group of soldiers and their General ran into the office; slamming the door shut and hurrying to move anything not attached to the floor against the door.
"What's going on?" Jeff asked. A soldier shushed him, and he could hear the march of metal boots. The whole room froze into a terrified mime, but miraculously the marching carried on past them.
The General was breathing hard, his eyes bulging like some grotesque cartoon. "This is it men," he barked. "We get taken, we'll become one of them and we can't let that happen. We can't let them get the weapons. For Queen and country!"
The officer workers looked at each other. If the situation behind the doors had not been lethal, it might have been humorous.
"Sir," Jeff spoke up, holding a sobbing Elle tightly, "This is the research office, we don't have any weapons."
"Everything!" The General yelled, voice cracking slightly, "Everything could become a weapon! Men-" he called out to the group in dark clothing, cradling machine guns, some (the older ones), in a paternal gesture towards the cold weapons, others in an act of comfort and familiarity. "Begin DORA protocol,"
"General-" one man spoke up, a thin trail of blood winding lazily down his cheek, a snow-light sprinkling of ceiling dust flouring his hair. "That was specific to vehicles and live-stock, there is nothing for us to do."
"Take the women; they cannot help us during an attack. Take them over to that far wall." The General ordered.
"Sir?"
"Do it now!"
Some of the women gladly ran to the other side of the office, relieved of the duty to be brave, at the front and responsible. Elle, however, was one of those who stayed behind; her sobbing had subsided to an undignified gasping. "I'm not going to leave you here Jeff. All it gives me is one more minute than I would have if I stayed with you."
"No Elle-" he pulled her close, breathed in the scent of her kiwi and water melon shampoo. "We might be able to stop them in time." He placed a hand on either side of her face. "You still have a chance."
She stared into his eyes and with a voice of calm certainty, stated, "I'd rather die."
He pulled her to him again and kissed her with an unexplored and forceful passion. He half pulled away, his lips moving against hers as he spoke, "Don't ever say that. Listen to me," he pulled back and looked her straight in the eye, "Look at me. You are going over there. I am going to stay here and barricade the door-" she was shaking her head but he held her face still. "-And I will see you when this is all over."
The other women had all made their way complacently to the other, except Elle. She stood, as if in a vacuum, amongst the crashing and shouting, the wires fizzing in the ceiling, the smashed windows. All she saw was Jeff, all she could hear was her pulsing heartbeat, and his final whispered words of "I love you", before he pushed her away gently and she staggered over to the far wall, still looking him in the eye. He blinked...
Suddenly the sound of hysteria was back, filling her ears and her mind: the racking sobbing, the heavy footfall of the alien soldiers ringing trough the building, the alarms and sirens of the emergency system.
And the General's voice.
"Stand up." An order for those against the wall. The woman next to her struggled but couldn't raise herself up. With a renewed strength born from the idea she was making a difference, Elle hauled the other woman up.
"Initiate protocol," The General barked at the black-clad figures, pointing at the women. Horror showed on their faces.
"You can't!"
The General's face was livid.
"How dare you refuse my orders? Do it now," he went to reach for his belt, where his pistol hung. The soldier closest to him made a grab for the weapon, but the General was too fast. He shot a bullet straight through the man's heart.
The woman Elle was holding screamed.
"This is for your own good." The General said, gun now aimed at the group of women. "You won't be able to defend yourselves when they come. You'll be taken and changed. Converted. You'll become the enemy. There are already too many of them."
Bang!
The screaming stopped as the woman Elle clung to sagged in her arms, face frozen in a perpetual state of terror, a hole through her skull.
The men were talking loudly over each other, trying to calm the General down, none wanting to reach for their weapons in case he shot someone else. Elle could hear a hysterical sobbing coming from her left, and the woman on her right was muttering a prayer under her breath. Further down the line, people were trying to push others in front of them, using their colleagues as protection in case another bullet was fired. She sought out Jeff, with her eyes, in the madness. He had tears streaming down his cheeks as he mouthed to her. "I'm so sorry."
She mouthed back, "I love-"
She never finished. Before the final word had been completed, a solid lump of lead tore into her stomach, stealing her breath. Faintly, she heard a familiar voice scream her name. As if in someone else's dream, she felt her eyes roll back as she fell onto the carpeted office floor. The pain made her mind muddled; she studied the undulations of the carpet from this new, closer level. She could see the individual synthetic threads, some winding around each other like desperate lovers, others (on the surface) in a state of protruding rebellion, bristling against her cheek. She blew out a laboured breath and watched as the closest of the rebels shuddered, like grass in a breeze. Her focus switched from near to far as she felt hands holding her head and putting pressure on the already blinding pain in her abdomen. Through a haze, she saw the face of her fiancé, pale and shaking, close to her own. She smiled faintly, but couldn't make her voice work.
She couldn't finish her last word to him. But she knew he knew it anyway. And he would always know it. Slowly, as if dripping in glue, her eyelids squeezed shut and opened again as she tried the simple act of blinking. She was so tired. Her body protesting... begging her to un-tense her muscles and let go. Let go of what, she couldn't quite grasp. And sleeping sounded so welcoming. So slowly she let the breath leave her body. Elle stilled.
And she never moved again.
