ZOMG. OMG OMG OMG. I'M SO SO SORREH, DON'T KILL ME!
Blame Flinch, it's all her fault.
Actually, it isn't. Anyone who's ever applied to go to university will know exactly why I've not updated for ages. Then I lost all my inspiration. BUT, Flinch and I have actually written - in a new style. NOTE, you ONE HUNDRED PERCENT need to read Flinch's chapter first. If you've not managed to find it (silly billy) PM me and I'll link you - although there IS a link on my profile.
It links directly. So yes, you do need to read Flinch's.
Alternatively, Welcome to my side from Flinch's side - I bet most of you were too closed-minded to read my side before. You made me cry. Hope you're happy.
Twelve frowned. "He'd better be. You'll see what happens if he tries anything with Nadrin."
"So Nadrin's actually a girl?" Greg tried to keep his tone as conversational as possible.
Behind him, Thirteen's eyes widened. He'd obviously realised that this was the wrong thing to say, even if Greg hadn't.
Nadrin sauntered over to him and gave him her prettiest smile, fluttering her eyelashes. "Can't you tell?" She waited momentarily as Greg stumbled over his words, before giving him a resounded kick to the shin.
"Murder!" Greg yelled, grabbing hold of his leg with one hand and leaning the other against the workstation in an attempt to prevent himself toppling over. "There was no need for that!"
"He didn't mean like that," Jack told Nadrin, his expression as close to a bashful grin as it would probably ever get. "He's a little confused at the moment. Mainly because you're wearing a skirt."
Nadrin blinked. "But I always wear skirts, why is he confused? I mean, obviously not ALWAYS, I mean, when I'm in bed, or in the shower-"
"LET'S NOT GO THERE," Twelve bellowed. "We have important matters to discuss - like the closing of this damned rift."
"Greg doesn't usually like skirts." Jack shot his teammate a cheeky grin, but amended his expression upon catching sight of Twelve's. "Right. Yeah. Rift. Sorry, Doc."
Greg looked at him in confusion. "I thought he was the Doctor." He pointed toward Thirteen.
Completely ignoring Greg, Twelve rounded on Jack. "Call me Doc again, and I'll look you in a small room with Nadrin... On second thoughts, I won't. I'll just lock you up on your own, no matter who I put in with you, you'll still try to... Ahem, yes anyway. The rift. This is a fine what-to-do."
"Data suggests that the Torchwood Institute is the perpetrator of the issue," Noahxd stated matter-of-factly.
"Yes?" Jack asked, his smirk wider than ever. Clearly, he either wanted to prompt the Doctor in finishing his sentence, or drive him over the edge. Possibly both.
"Jack." Thirteen shot him a warning look. "Come on. The sooner we settle this, the sooner I can get away from myself."
Greg stared at him. "What?"
"Tea?" Ianto reappeared in the corner with a new tray. He looked slightly crestfallen upon realising that the previous mugs had yet to be touched.
"Give us answers, Torchwood," Noahxd demanded.
"We've tried." There was more of a snap in Jack's voice than he intended or would have liked. "We don't know what's causing the Rift closure. It's not us."
"It honestly isn't," Thirteen added, catching sight of Twelve's face. "Trust me, I've looked into it. Well. Browsed."
Twelve sneered. "You should've looked harder then. Don't you have any clues at all?" he asked, accepting a mug of tea from Ianto with a curteous nod.
Ianto grimaced. "I...took the liberty of searching the archives. The level of negative Rift spikes is unprecedented in Torchwood history." He paused. "In Torchwood Three history, that is."
Jack shot him a glance. Ianto didn't meet his eye.
Mhror nodded, turning orange to signify his understanding. "That corresponds to the abnormally high number of positive rift spikes in the lunar plain on Erythrae."
The Twelfth Doctor sighed. "We could have guessed all that - now how about something useful - any idea at all of the source? Anything even the slightest bit suspicious?"
"Nuclear power station," Greg suggested jokingly.
Sarine nodded slowly. "Is there any particular Nuclear Power Station that attracts attention?" she asked, missing the joke.
Ianto thumbed through the documents next to the trays, sipping his own coffee as he did so. "Ysbigoglys Power Station," he read. "To be opened 17 January 2010." He picked up the document and handed it to Jack with barely a glance.
"Terms 'Ysbigogyls' and 'January' do not register."
Twelve frowned. "Err... forgive me limited knowledge of the beautiful languge, but doesn't 'Ysbigoglys' mean 'Spinach'?"
Nadrin giggled. "I thought you said you knew every word of every language?"
"Pfft, course I do... Well, nearly every word. Nearly every language. A few."
Ianto smirked up at him. "It does. Alli mo areithia Cymraeg?"
Twelve grinned. "Gwnei adnabod , Alla chyfieitha unrhyw balog i mewn 'm ben. Ai 'na s yn anad hychydig eiriau."
Greg broke into laughter behind the two of them. "You're a right pair, you two."
Jack was oblivious to this comment, fixated on the document. "We may have a problem." He showed the document to the Doctors, finger pointing to the bottom of the page.
Twelve frowned in confusion. "I don't see, what's the problem?"
Jack shot him a condescending glare. "Look again, Doc. Look where it's being built. On the same site as the Blaidd Drwyg Project."
The Doctor tutted. "That means he could be exploiting the - My dear Ianto, I think you've got it. Now, any idea who's running this show?"
"Absolutely none," Ianto replied, failing to keep a hint of smugness from his face. "It's not government funded, we know that."
"Do UNIT know anything?" Greg asked.
"Hey." Jack smirked across at him. "Leave the poor girl alone."
Greg held up his hands in mock defence. "It's purely a professional relationship."
"I've heard that one before," Thirteen muttered.
"I thought it was just Jack who did things like that?" Nadrin asked, bouncing impatiently on the balls of her feet. "...Not that I know Jack does things like that."
Twelve couln't help grinning. "Nadrin, I said you can stop now. Besides, we need to get down to the Ysbigoglys Power Station."
"Pffft. What's so important about the Yglyboobies thing anyway?"
"I don't do things like that. Just so you know." Greg coughed into his hand.
Jack smirked. "Of course not. Not with women, anyway. Most of the time."
"If we could steer the conversation away from my sex life, Jack? Thanks." Greg shot him a nasty glare and headed towards the door.
Thirteen frowned. "Where's he off to?"
"Investigating. Heaven knows it's better than standing around here speculating."
Jack grimaced at the rest of their small crowd. "Basically, this power station? It's being built on the Rift, and I'm almost incredibly certain it's what's draining the energy. So, not good."
Ianto gently pushed him toward the cog door. Jack looked at him in confusion.
Ianto nodded towards Greg's angry, retreating figure. "Go with him."
The stolen SUV skidded to an abrupt halt. The driver frowned and blinked nervously as a warning bong emanated from the sat-nav on the dashboard – the replacement Torchwood SUV was nearby. Just two streets away, in fact. Tutting disappointedly at the clock, he made a swift three point turn in the empty street and headed back down towards the power station. So much for an early finish today – he couldn't just leave the equipment for those Torchwood bastards to find. He parked the SUV haphazardly in the concrete blankness that was the power station's grounds. There was nowhere to hide the vehicle from view – but he doubted it'd make any difference, anyway. What was inside was of far more interest to them.
The computer seat was still warm when he got back, guided by a small pocket torch. Taking his brown overcoat back off, he slung it over the back of the chair and sat down, sitting up straight. He tapped the power switch with his shoe, and the screens began to flicker back into life. The black loading screens of the foremost computers reflected his pale face, reflected again in his glasses. He adjusted his body continuously, trying to find the most imposing position for him. He tutted as the computer finished loading and the screen went blue, his reflection disappearing in a swirl of data.
The journey through Cardiff had been largely uneventful – Jack could tell Greg was full of questions, but they kept silent regardless. The imposing towers of the Ysbigoglys Power Station loomed high over them as the SUV pulled in through the smart gates – open, surprisingly enough. Greg's eyes widened in shock.
"Jack, that's a Torchwood SUV."
Jack applied the brakes sharply and the car ground to halt beside its twin. He jumped out of the vehicle, leaving the engine running, and strode over the vehicle he'd parked beside, Greg throwing the door open to follow.
"It's the car we lost – it was stolen on the estate where Ianto's sister lives. Didn't think we'd see that again." Jack paused for thought. "Which does mean that whoever got their hands on the SUV has also got their hands on the Torchwood database."
Greg sucked in air between his teeth. "That's not good, is it?"
Jack snorted. "Course not. But still, let's look for some life, shall we?"
Greg nodded, and looked around him. "It's a power station – should there not be people everywhere?"
Jack nodded. "Yeah, but they're probably inside."
"So where are the cars then? They can't all get the train, surely?"
Jack bit his lip. "That's true. But we won't get any answers standing out here freezing our bollocks off." With that, he strode over to the main building, stepping into what he perceived to be the reception – only to find it empty, dark, and rather worse for wear.
He frowned. "What is going on here?! This place is supplying half the city, and there's not a soul around!"
Greg wandered tentatively over to a corridor, peering into the thick blackness beyond. "Jack, there's a light in here," he shouted back.
"Oi, you trying to alert everyone in South Wales?" Jack strode over hastily, but noiselessly – though, as Jack realised half way to Greg, stealth was sort of pointless now. He peered around the doorway cautiously, to see a vast dark room. The light was a dull blue, clearly produced by the luminous screens of a large bank of computers. There was a simple office chair in front of the screens, the chair and its occupant both silhouetted against the light. Greg squinted, trying to make out some features, but couldn't. The man in the chair remained silent.
Jack boldly stepped into the room. "Who are you, and what is this place?"
The man smiled to himself, hidden to both Jack and Greg, but continued to keep silent.
Jack continued forwards, outwardly confident. He strode tight up the man in the chair and leant forwards challengingly.
"Who are you, and what is this place."
Jack blinked as the room was suddenly illuminated – Greg had found a light switch, evidently – and turned back to the man.
"This is the Ysbigoglys Power Station – and you know who I am."
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