Gwen awoke to a massive headache and Jack's nose two inches from her face.
At first the worst of all possibilities flooded her: an emotionally taxing case, beers with the team, Tosh heading home, Ianto off to clean, Owen stumbling on a quest to find another bar—leaving her alone with Jack. He smiled, he flirted, he acted like Jack, and between the alcohol and the pheromones—between his close smile and Rhys's growing distance—Gwen ended up doing the one thing she swore she'd never do, leading to now.
Except... then Gwen noted that her headache wasn't the post-drinking pounding she'd grown used to. She found, with massive relief, the spring poking into her back that told her she was still on the Hub's ancient couch. Sure enough, behind Jack, Tosh was sitting at her station, watching her. Owen was beside Tosh... also watching her. Gwen could feel Ianto's gaze somewhere in the distance.
"Hey there," Jack said.
"Hey..." Gwen mumbled. When she spoke her mouth tasted like copper and stale vomit; she grimaced. "Back up a step, would you? Do I really need an audience for the morning after?" Even though this still didn't feel like her normal hangover. Gwen gave a massive groan as she heaved herself into a sitting position. Rubbing her head, she pushed her bangs out of her eyes and found them sticky with sweat.
Jack hadn't backed up at all.
No, if anything he'd gotten closer, kneeling right by the edge of the couch, his arm resting just a hair's breadth away from her leg. It might have been a comfortable almost-touch if not for the muscles standing taught beneath his rolled sleeve. With a coldness running down her spine, Gwen really looked and found Jack smiling. Not the welcoming smile he'd given her for years now, but the cold, faux grin he used on police officers and hostile aliens. It made her skin crawl, having that aimed her way.
Gwen let out a breathy laugh. "Jack? What's going on?"
His eyebrows shot up. Behind him, just at the corner of her eye, Gwen could see Owen's lips pursing in... hostility? Tosh crossed her arms.
"You know my name then?" Jack laughed too, an ominous chuckle. "Well, that does make things interesting, doesn't it. Ianto? Why don't you take our well informed guest to her room?"
"With pleasure, sir."
"Guest—?" Gwen began, but Jack was already standing, moving away even as Ianto appeared at her side. By the time Jack's words had fully registered, Ianto was slapping on the sonic cuffs Torchwood had been using since the 60's—impossible for the person wearing them to accidentally harm themselves, also impossible to get out of. Gwen gapped as the blue field started up with a soft hum.
"Ianto!"
He jerked at hearing his own name.
"Oh c'mon." Gwen looked around her, trying to find a sympathetic expression among the familiar faces. "Yeah, this has gone on long enough, you lot. Having a bit of fun at my expense, huh? Well fun's over. And shame on you, Ianto. Weren't you last using these cuffs with Jack? Owen, I do hope you sterilized them properly."
Ianto was still tugging her towards the cells though and Jack, at hearing the innuendo, had actually startled in surprise. None of them registered anything like recognition and Gwen felt her stomach plummeting towards her boots.
Owen pulled his pen out of his mouth with a sneer. "Whatever she is," he said. "She's got some fucked up fantasies. Cute though."
"Telepathic, maybe." Tosh murmured. "Just slightly. It would explain how she knows our names."
"Jack just said Ianto's."
"But how did she know Jack's?"
"Tosh!" Gwen cried, trying to pull out of Ianto's grip. Her friend blinked, looking half interested, half uneasy.
"See?" Tosh said.
Jack stood and watched as she was dragged away, speaking as if Gwen wasn't even there.
"Telepathic or not, I want to know how she got in here. Tosh? Bring up the video feed for the last twelve hours. Owen, I want you starting in on the blood work. I'll send you down for a sample in a minute. Suzie? Take a look at our security system. I never did trust that piece of junk."
Nearly out of the room now, straining against Ianto's arms, Gwen suddenly went limp at a single word.
"Suzie?" She breathed. Sure enough, off in the corner was a ghost, feet propped on the table, curls a frizzy mess... fiddling with the weapon she'd killed three people with.
Suzie Costello watched Gwen pass with no more recognition than the others. Gwen went easily now, coming to the understanding that something was very, very wrong.
"Oh bollocks," she hissed as Ianto threw her into a cell. Everything clicked into place. "Bloody fucking Torchwood!"
Suzie was pretty much the answer, but Gwen still noted a number of other red flags, telling her exactly what she didn't want to know.
The cell she was tossed into was damp and growing something vaguely blue on the far wall. Not entirely unexpected for a cell in general—especially for one right smack over Cardiff's rift—but almost six months ago, Ianto had given the jail a massive, thorough cleaning, spurned on by Tosh's growing concern that they weren't treating the Weevils with as much compassion as they were capable of. That was the other thing. Janet, their resident Weevil mascot, was nowhere to be seen. Of course she wasn't. Janet hadn't been caught until Gwen had followed Jack up those stairs, witnessed a murder, and fallen head first into Torchwood with no way out. Those events, if Gwen's theory was right, wouldn't be occurring for some weeks yet.
God she hated time travel.
Made a fair bit of sense though. They'd all experienced it—the rift's tendency to take as well as to give. It was just that, thankfully, it didn't take people all that often (Ianto had found that it vastly preferred socks instead).
Although, Gwen had yet to hear of it taking a person and dumping them in their own time-stream, just a handful of days before their past self showed up no less. And wouldn't that have been a shocker, Gwen Cooper learning about aliens and time travel all in one day. She probably would have shot herself, if her past self knew how to shoot. Probably would have picked up a gun and shot her future self because she'd learned to shoot, which was admittedly a little hypocritical, and shit this was all confusing. When she got back, Tosh was going to have a field day hearing about all this. If she got back. When. Regardless, Gwen would probably give her a good smack first; smack all of them for being unintentional twats.
Speaking of twats…
"What's the date?" They were the first words out of Gwen's mouth when Owen stepped into view. He paused, medical kit tucked under one arm, his eyes narrowing. His gaze then jumped briefly to a spot above Gwen's head. Not that she didn't already know she was being watched.
"You're not asking the questions here," Owen said, taking out a syringe. "Now be a love and hold out your arm. Gotta see what alien sludge you're made outta."
"What's the date, Owen?" Gwen repeated and watched as he bristled at his name coming out of her mouth. It made her stomach tighten.
"Don't make me drug you. Just put your arm through the slot like a good girl—"
"Tell me the date and I'll give you your sample."
They froze like that a long moment, standing off, Gwen shaking but otherwise poised behind the Plexiglas, Owen grinding his teeth.
"March 3rd." He finally bit out. "2006. You happy now?"
Happy wasn't exactly the word. Taking a deep breath, Gwen settled cross-legged on the floor, ignoring Owen's growing verbal abuse. There was no way she could give him any blood. Not when her physical self, like that of all Torchwood agents, was chock full of information; clues to the future that Owen would be able to tease out with ease: residual traces from numerous retcons, dormant poisons from aliens they had yet to encounter, bits of her own team from some rather creative saves… no. Gwen hadn't exactly been trained for this situation—when were they ever?—but there was only one logical thing to do.
"My name is Gwen," she said, overriding Owen's threats mid-sentence. His mouth snapped shut. "I am human. If you look me up you'll find that I was—" Gwen stressed the word. "—a police constable with the South Wales police. I am now an agent of Torchwood Three. Number 65892. I'll give you each one word to prove that I do, in fact, know you, and know you well." Gwen took another calming breath.
"Owen: Katie." Gwen watched sadly as Owen turned the color of spoiled milk. She then turned to the hidden camera, glad that she couldn't see the others' faces. "Tosh: mother. Ianto: Lisa. Jack: Gray. Suzie…" Gwen hesitated, chewing it over, wanting to spill it all and knowing that she couldn't. She eventually settled for glaring into the lens and growling out, "glove." It was ambiguous enough, but Suzie would know.
Gwen turned around again, getting comfortable.
"Go back upstairs, Owen." She said. "I'm not saying anything else. We can't risk it."
"What do we think?" Jack asked.
He stood at the front of the boardroom, the large screen showing a strange woman hunkered down in her cell—totally still, mouth pressed into a thin, hard line. Behind Jack, his team sat around in various states of shock.
"She appears out of nowhere," he said, staring at the screen. "Bypassing all the security, just materializing, asleep on our couch... are we sure the systems are up and running?"
"Yeah, they're fine." Suzie said dully.
"And her workup?"
"She appears fully human," Tosh said, scanning her readings. "At least from what I was able to gather from the air in her cell. No indications of telepathy as I first suspected. None of the residual energies we associate with teleportation either." She set her scanner down, then rubbed a hand over tired eyes. "Jack. All evidence points to her slipping through the rift. A time flux."
"Which means she just might be telling the truth..."
Jack whirled around, practically glaring at them. "Right. We need to know if this 'Gwen' is really from the future and if she is, I'm buying shots tonight because this is the sort of stuff we're not paid enough to deal with."
"Torchwood barely pays at all," Owen grumbled.
"True enough. Alright then, Mr. Cheer, what about you? She gave us hints to prove— supposedly—that she knows us. That she's a member of the team. You believe her?"
Owen grimaced, glancing warily at the rest of the group. "Sorta," he finally muttered.
"She said 'Katie'..." Tosh prompted.
"Yeah, you inquisitive shits. Katie... ah, fuck. She was my fiancé, okay? She died. That's all I'm gonna say about it." Owen peered up at Jack. "I removed that info from my file. You're the only who knows that story now."
"And I didn't tell," Jack said.
"... I know."
Jack turned. "Tosh?"
She shrugged. It was strained though. "You know I came here for my mom. That's not a big secret. Not exactly common knowledge either though." She took a deep breath. "It is the sort of thing that only you lot would know though. The team."
Suzie didn't even give Jack the chance to speak. "Childhood memory," she bit out the second Tosh was done. She lifted her chin high. Jack's eyebrows shot up.
"I assumed she meant something with the resurrection gauntlet. You've gotten a little obsessed with it latel—"
"Well she didn't," Suzie insisted and everyone left it at that.
They turned to Ianto.
He was, by far, the palest of the lot. He looked briefly at Jack, the edges of his mouth trembling, before he abruptly looked away and stood, sending his chair skittering back. Striding to the screen he pressed a button on the side, resting his head against the wall.
"I need more information," he called.
Down in the cells, Gwen's head shot up. "Ianto?"
Her voice came through to them loud and clear.
"I need more," Ianto insisted, shaking. "Lisa. You said Lisa. My girlfriend. She... she died at the battle of Canary Wharf. Did you mean that, or... or did you mean..."
There was a long moment of silence. "No, Ianto." Gwen finally said. She was looking straight into the camera, her eyes lost. "I mean what happened after she... died. What you did. What you felt you needed to do. I mean—" she hesitated.
"Dr. Tanizaki." Gwen swallowed, barely forcing out the word. "You've contacted him by now, yeah? I know that. And what happens next, not that I can say obviously, but… Is that enough?"
Ianto was shaking harder now. "You know. If you know why do you sound so sad? What happens?"
"… Is that enough, Ianto?"
"What happened?"
"Is that enough?" Gwen shouted right back.
No one moved. Not for what felt like a very long while.
"…That's enough," Ianto said, his voice hollow. He signed off.
"Who the hell is Dr. Tanizaki," Jack growled.
"No one. Don't worry about it."
"Oh I'm worried about it."
"Well what about 'Gray,'" Ianto hissed. Jack's mouth snapped shut. "Yeah. Not so willing to spill your own secrets, are you? But, sir, I..." Ianto looked up, contrite now. "I believe her. Oh god, sir, I believe her, we need to keep this contained—"
"Yeah you do."
All five of them turned.
"Jack," Jack said. His expression hovered somewhere between incredulous and amused. "Well. Hey there, handsome."
"Hey, hey."
It was Jack in the doorway. At least, it looked like him. Exactly like him, right down to the period clothes and the infectious grin. The only difference was that this Jack appeared slightly more flustered, his eyes jumping from the team to the image of Gwen behind his double.
"Bloody hell," Owen whispered.
"I thought we weren't doing this anymore," their Jack said. He slowly eased around the table. "Risky business. Messing with your own timeline."
"Yeah well," future Jack shook his wrist strap. "Gwen's worth it. Like, really worth it—stop! C'mon, you know better than to get that close. We touch and we've got a damn paradox on our hands. Now what was I saying...? Right! Time. Don't worry. This isn't the last time we mess with it either, I mean, the stories I could tell you... Besides, Time Agency isn't going to give a damn, considering they fell apart years ago. Oh I know, awful right. I—No no, don't worry, Tosh. Doesn't matter what I say now because you all are going to take a healthy dose of Retcon before I leave." He pulled out a small vial containing five pills. "Modified version. Better than the stuff you've got now. So here's what's going to happen: you all write yourselves little notes saying not to pursue the lost time, I'll be taking Gwen, you all take these, and we'll each be on our merry way. Sounds good? You don't mind losing a day, do you?"
Jack caught the vial. "For you? Never."
"Oy," Owen piped up. "Do we get a say in this?"
"No," both Jacks answered.
"It does seem like the safest option," Ianto said. He was staring hard at the future version of his boss. That Jack grinned.
"See? Listen to your tea-boy. Not that you'll be a tea-boy forever. Ianto Jones, out in the field! I love being able to tell you guys this stuff. Speaking of..." Jack's face suddenly went slack and cold, almost devoid of emotion. He turned to Suzie. "I'd just like to say, while I still have the chance, that if you weren't already dead—twice—I would kill you myself. Happily."
"Jack!" Tosh gasped.
Suzie said nothing, just stared at the table, gasping slightly.
"Take the pills," he demanded. Jack looked to his past self. "You can grow to hate her in your own time."
God they didn't want to, but with a nod from their own Jack the team did as they were told, and their future visitor didn't move and until they'd written notes, swallowed, and their heads were nodding forward dangerously. He gently guided Owen's head down to the table, fixed Tosh's hair, and loosened Ianto's tie.
He didn't touch Suzie.
"See you kids in a sec," Jack said.
Gwen sat as patiently as she could—which was to say, not very patiently at all. Since Ianto had called down she hadn't heard a peep from upstairs. She wondered how long they'd keep her down here. Could they even afford to let her out? No, but they wouldn't just abandon her either. Gwen knew that too. She might have infused Torchwood with some of that missing humanity, but they'd never been outright cruel. They'd help her get home. Somehow.
"Gwen Cooper."
Of course they would.
She knew. Before Jack even came into view, Gwen knew. It was in the way he said her name, familiarity and the fondness all rolled into one. She stood on shaking legs as Jack leaned casually against the glass.
"You bastard," she laughed, shaking in relief.
"I'm the bastard? I'm not the one who lost the whole team a day back in March." Jack keyed open the cell, offering Gwen his arm. "Had I known you were this much trouble I never would have offered you the job."
"Liar," she said.
"Absolutely. Now let's get you home. We've got quite the tale to tell our friends..."