To: .
From: .
Date: 23rd November, 2010
Re: team
Dear Jack,
A poem, Jack? Is that all I get? Is it a metaphor for not having the words? You never did really have the words, did you? Always talking, but silent when it really meant something. The lone wanderer, is that what you think you are? Alone with your grief. I can tell you only this: you don't have to be.
So much of this would amuse you, Jack. You should have stuck around just to laugh at me; it would have done you good. When we got the money to rebuild, I went immediately to the city, because they were going on and on about what to do with the Plass. It was tarped over, but obviously couldn't stay that way. Well, they didn't like very much the pregnant woman trying to tell them that no, they couldn't just concrete it over. They had to excavate, and then let the secret base be rebuilt underneath it.
Yeah. There was a phone call that had to be made. You'd never have had to make a ruddy phone call. Still, it worked. They're done clearing out the rubble, and I, meanwhile, am going through the rubble of our contacts attempting to build a new team. There's only so much Lois and I can do on our own, even with Rhys to do the heavy lifting.
How did you choose us, Jack? Waited, didn't you, for the right one to come along. Susie was hired in 2000, right after all those others died. Some others before Owen, but they didn't last. Ran off, and you were there with your retcon, ready to try again. Patient Jack, Vigilant Jack. If only I had that kind of time. The Rift is going mad, Jack. It's no longer the time for patience and vigilance. So I had to put together a team.
Gwen sat at a café in the Bay, across the street and a few lanes down from the Millennium Centre. She never felt quite right being far it these days. She lived in fear that the workmen would find something they didn't understand, and would hurt themselves. Worse, she feared that they would disregard something important, despite her strict instructions to show anything they unearthed to her. She usually left Lois at their new headquarters, with their jerry-rigged Rift monitors, made quickly by UNIT from models Tosh had stored in the archives.
She knew it was unfair, to set Lois on calling contacts and informing them of Torchwood's new operations, and organizing their new base, but she couldn't bear to be there. The echoing warehouse felt wrong. Besides, she mused, someone had to do the fieldwork, and have meetings like this.
Jarring her from her self-assuring thoughts, her mobile began to ring. It was not the familiar tone that signaled Lois was about to send her sprinting off across the city, and good thing because she needed to have this chat. No, it was someone else entirely.
"Martha?" she said, smiling into the phone. She had called the other woman weeks ago, but she was generally difficult to reach.
"Gwen, how are you? I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get back to you. Mickey and I were in a spot of trouble in New Mexico. What's going on?"
"I'm all right… look, Martha, I'm going to rip the plaster off, OK? Jack's gone; he left me to rebuild Torchwood, and we need a doctor desperately. So I'm asking—no, I'm begging—would you-?"
She stared down at the cup of coffee in front of her. The one thing that she hated about this café was how small their cups were. Perfect for a pregnant woman, she supposed, but she rather thought this child might just have to have whatever side-effects came from caffeine. Their mother was rebuilding Torchwood, thanks much. She needed it, even with the tiny cups. It took three to make a decent mug of coffee, but it was good coffee. Not as good as Ianto's but—and there it was the hourly think about Ianto… Martha was taking her time wasn't she? Might be time to make Lois stake out the hospital, maybe that one doctor who stitched her arm last week.
"Yeah, of course. Oh my God. Jack is gone?"
Gwen let out a long breath. "Yeah. He's… travelling. Long story. I'm sure you've heard what happened with the 456, and Ianto. It's just me now, and Lois. You'll get on well with her, I think. We can pay to rent you a flat, and get you down to Cardiff. With Mickey, obviously. And if he's looking for a job…."
The bell above the shop door chimed, and she looked up. There he was.
"Actually, he's in Japan at the moment on a commission, but I'll let him know. He's a bit hard to pin down to one place, is Mickey. Oh Gwen, I'm so sorry about it all."
"Thank you. Listen, I'll have Lois arrange more details with you. Thank you so much, and I'll see you soon."
"Right. Bye then…" Martha sounded confused, but Gwen was eager to shut the phone. She had that settled, and good thing. They had taken to rotating hospitals with their alien-caused injuries, but she'd had a nurse the week before ask her if she was sure she didn't need help; that it was all right to tell someone, even with the baby on the way. She had expected Rhys to turn abusive at that, but at the nurse, not her.
"Well, hello there, Gwen."
"Sit down, Andy," she said. She shot him a small smile, but she needed this to be business. He had been her partner for a four years, and he was a good bloke, but she wasn't altogether sure she was making the right decision. "Thanks for coming."
"Yeah of course, Gwen. You know I'd do anything for you. So, Sarge says this isn't to be general knowledge, but I know there's a vacancy in the Cardiff Uni neighbourhood. It's not city centre, but I thought you might like a rest anyway. There's one in Splott too, but I didn't think-."
It took her a moment to realize what he was saying, with the excitement of Martha's coming on board, and the necessity of tact with this meeting running through her brain, but when she realized a bubble of laughter rose up and threatened to choke her lest she let it out. So much for professionalism. Andy stared at her, bemusedly, as she laughed.
"Sorry," she gasped, sipping at the water she had ordered with her coffee. "It's—sorry—but you—you think this," she gestured around the café, "is about me needing a job?"
"Well…well, yeah." Andy shrugged. "I mean, I just figured- your base blew up; you were wanted as a terrorist; you've a babe on the way. I assumed…"
He must have spoken to Rhys, she thought, straightening up. One evening, when she had come home frustrated with the Cardiff council, he had suggested that she go back to the force. Torchwood could be a hobby of sorts. He hadn't meant it, exactly, but she knew that there was resentment in there somewhere.
She took a deep breath, and regained control of herself. "All right. One," she held up a finger. "I don't need a job; I have one, thanks very much. Two, needing a rest is about the last thing on my mind—or the first, come to think of it, but that's beside the point. Three, I'm offering you a job, you idiot."
He stared at her, his jaw slackening. He did not gape; at least, she gave him that. When the waitress came by to take his order, he ordered a coffee quite normally. Then he went back to staring at her. To give him time to think, she texted Lois.
Heard from Martha. She's in. Send her the info?
"You're offering me a job?"
She glanced up, and stowed her mobile in her handbag. "That's right. You see, Torchwood's had a bit of a staffing problem of late."
He accepted his tea from the waitress, and sipped it immediately wincing at the heat. "Torchwood?"
"Well, it is where I work. I more than work there now. I'm in charge."
"You're in charge of Torchwood?"
"Is there an echo in here?" She sighed. She knew she was being harsh on him, but he was giving her that look. The one that said: oi, what does Gwennie think she's doing? And it was true, that he still saw her as the girl who had been his partner; new to the force, getting her head busted at a pub fight. Trouble was, that girl had seen a lot in the past few years. "Yes, Andy, I'm in charge of Torchwood. I'm in charge, and we need people."
"And you want me?" He grinned, and she crossed her legs under the table, leaning back.
"Aye. But it's not all glory, Andy. It's piss little glory these days, so get that out of your head. The Spec-Ops swooping in days are over, really. We're doing the best we can with what we've got to keep Cardiff safe. It's dirty, and hard, and not glamorous. But it's also fantastic."
He still smiled, and she thought she might have won him over. There would be more to do, of course, than just talking him into it, but that was step one. Then he shook his head. "Listen, Gwen. I'm honoured, really I am. But, the best you can with what you've got? Is that all you've got?"
She frowned. "Of course. Isn't it all anyone's got?"
He shook his head again. "You're not following me. You called me, because I was all you could think of, didn't you?"
Her heart sank. He'd hit the nail on the head, actually, but she'd never say that. She leaned forward, putting her hand on his arm. "Oh, Andy, of course not. It's taken us some time to get off the ground; to get to the point where we're hiring. You were the first thing I thought of, honestly."
His lip curled. "Sure. Understanding now, aren't you? Now that I may not do what you want? I'm through letting you manipulate me, Gwen."
A bitter thought about Andy finally having wised up, on the day she needed him to remain malleable Andy, crossed her mind as her mobile rang again. "Hold that thought. Lois?"
"Hey, Gwen, bit of a situation on the police scanner. Over at the Red Dragon Centre, at the video arcade. Think you can-."
"I'll go right over." She snapped the phone shut. "I've got to go." She tossed ten quid on the table for her muffin and coffee, and then dashed towards the door. She knew that he would follow; was counting on it, as a matter of fact.
"Wait! Gwen, where are you going? You can't-."
"As a matter of fact, I can. I have to." She crossed the street, wondering what people thought was happening. Lover's quarrel, she assumed. As if. She knew Andy fancied her, but that was one thing that would never happen.
Had Jack thought that about her? She thought this for only a second, before remembering the way he looked at her sometimes. No. Never.
She slid in through the automatic doors of the Red Dragon Centre, Andy still on her heels. The arcade was to her left, and she wondered what she was looking for, until she heard the shout. "I'm king of the world!"
A boy of about twelve was standing atop one of the video game machines, his arms raised up above his head. There was a group of people surrounding him, including two police officers whom she recognized. She didn't understand why they were standing there watching the boy. He wasn't standing on anything tall enough to hurt him if they propelled him off, nor did he look particularly strong.
Then she realized. They were frozen. "What the-?" Andy said behind her.
Gwen swore, as the boy turned to them, alerted to their presence by Andy's words. He raised a hand towards them, and Gwen had barely enough time to see a dented silver ring with a dark green stone on his finger before a blue bolt shot out of it. She ducked, and the bolt hit Andy, who froze mid-sentence.
Rolling out of the boy's aim was not comfortable with the new bulge the baby had created, but she managed it. She stopped at the base of the game and stood slowly, grabbing the kid's legs before he got a chance to turn the ring on her. She pulled him down, grabbing his arm as soon as she could. He thrashed, but she managed to angle him so that most of his kicks hit the machine, though he did manage to clip her in the mouth with the ring. She ignored the cut, putting the kid on the ground and holding his arm with one hand, pulling the ring off with the other.
"That's mine," he protested. "I won it!"
"Tough luck," she said. "Should have gone for the backpack." She studied the ring, hoping to see a cancel button. Where was Jack's wriststrap when she needed it? "I, uh, don't suppose there was another one?"
The kid had crossed his arms and pulled the hood of his hoodie over his eyes. She rolled her eyes, and slid between the cluster of frozen people to the prize case. Sure enough, an equally archaic ring with a red stone sat inside. She went around the counter, digging through drawers until she found the key to the case. (And a porno magazine, but that was beside the point).
Another minute, and everyone was unfrozen, believing that no time had passed whatsoever. An easy clean-up, and, as a bonus, the kid had run off. The police weren't entirely sure how he got away, but she and Andy assured them his mum had come to pick him up.
"It's not always that easy," she commented as they headed back outside into the blustery day.
"That was easy?" Andy asked. Then the construction site that had once been the Plass came into view. She turned to him, eyebrows raised. "Yeah," he murmured. "I guess it was."
"Think about it," she instructed. "That's all I can ask."
He nodded, once, and she waved to him over her shoulder as she crossed the road to check in with the workmen.
He hasn't said yes or no yet, but I think he'll come through. If not, we've thought about calling up Johnson. She's a bit frightening, and I'm not sure she'll be willing to take my direction. Still, we'll deal with that when it comes. I'm honestly not sure what you'd say about Andy. He'd never survive any of the mindfucks that aliens can give us, I don't think. Then again, maybe he'll surprise me. Lois has.
Did I surprise you, Jack? I imagine we all did. You hired for promise, not for what was already there. I know you offered Martha a job, once, but would you have actually given it to her? She's not exactly raw material. She'll be out here next week. Mickey's in Guam, now. I doubt we'll get him, to be honest, and that's OK. Couples in Torchwood… it doesn't always work, does it?
The baby's moving now. I can feel it inside me, and Rhys can feel him too. Reckons he'll be a footballer. It's a constant reminder of what I'm fighting for. I'm fighting so we never have to see children in danger like that again. That's what it's about in the end, when we learn from things. The difficulty is accepting that it had to happen in the first place. I haven't done that yet, either.
I miss you, so much,
Gwen
To: .
From: .
Date: November 28th, 2010
RE: Re: Team
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view
Edgar Allen Poe
