Author's Notes: And so, we come to the end of another story in the Birthright series. The next entry is called, Reaping the Whirlwind. That story finds Owen dealing with his first case with his new branch, Natalie facing the choice that has terrified her ever since Torchwood America's inception when the Families decide to take a page from Olivia Colasanto's book, and the rest of the team working to save everyone involved. (And by the time Jack is finished with them, the Families may wish their ancestors never went near that butcher shop back in 1928. That isn't even taking into account Carlyon's response). That will be posted sometime next week, as I have a job interview on Tuesday (yes, another. Law of averages, right?) In this epilogue, Mickey and Martha prepare to say 'good-bye,' and Owen's twilight musings shed light on how he ended up in that other dimension.
Epilogue
Until We Meet Again
Tregarth Homestead, Oklahoma
Third week of November (Shortly before Thanksgiving)
To Mickey and Martha Smith, the week spent with Jack Harkness and the Tregarth family passed entirely too quickly. Or, as Jack observed when that lamentation was made the night before Mickey and Martha were to leave, 'time really does fly when you're having fun.' (Naturally, Octavia Tregarth threw one of the small pillows at him) Even so, eight days after they encountered the tongue-tied Lucas Martinelli at the airport, the young couple were packing up their belongings and loading Natalie Tregarth's Patriot. At least, Mickey was loading the car with Natalie and Jack's help, while Martha sat in the kitchen with a checklist provided by Sophia and Priscilla. Those two extraordinary ladies left earlier in the day, but not before hugging Mickey and Martha, and extracting promises that they would return. And if they returned the following November, they were absolutely required to come during Thanksgiving. That was one tentative promise that Martha had no trouble making.
It was a full week for the young couple and their hosts. There were days when they spent all waking hours, helping the Tregarths with whatever cropped up. For Martha, that involved reading over reports when a fresh eye was needed and for Mickey, it was just about anything imaginable. Really, it was everything from helping the Martinelli boys with their chores in the yard to assisting Owen and Jack with moving furniture in the base to keeping Owen and Rex Matheson (whom Martha never really got a chance to know, but apparently, irritated the hell out of Owen) separated.
There were days when they went to attractions around the area. It wasn't the same as London or Cardiff, she learned. In addition to the vastly different climate, there was a great deal of open space in Oklahoma. Yet, for all that, the Tregarths were part of a tightly-knit community. Their closest neighbors, the Hallorans, were auxiliary members of Torchwood, though not in the same way that Mickey and Martha were. It was, in fact, the Hallorans who suggested the visit to the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum in Oklahoma City. Martha bit back a giggle, remembering the look on Carlyon Tregarth's face when that was mentioned. He didn't even know it existed, apparently. That trip also doubled as an opportunity to get souvenirs for Martha's family and Mickey's friends.
And there were still other days when everything was quiet: well, aside from Jack dancing first Esther and then Natalie around the room, much to Ailsa's delight. Martha spent those days reading to the little girl, listening to Sophia's stories about Jack and some of the messes they got into and out of, watching the telly with Natalie and Esther, and hearing more about Jack's time off-planet. Mickey, not surprisingly, spent his time with the other men. On their third day with the Tregarths, Jason took Mickey to what he called the Man-Cave, which was one of the refurbished outbuildings. Jason, Lucas, Mickey, Owen, Rex and Jack disappeared to the aforementioned Man-Cave on the side-by-side ATV's. Carlyon just rolled his eyes and retired to his study. When teased about it by Jack upon the immortal's return, Carlyon reminded him, 'I'm eighty-nine years old, Jack, and unlike you, I feel every second of it.'
Mickey, Jack and Natalie came back into the kitchen, Natalie reporting, "Okay, everything is loaded but the carry-ons. I'm guessing you put the fragile items in the carry-ons? Hopefully bundled within clothes?" Mickey stared at her, and Nat turned to face him, "What? You mean you've never wrapped a shot-glass or a coffee mug or something like that in clothes?" Mickey continued to stare at her, and the young woman shuffled closer to Jack, saying, "Jack, he's scaring me!" Martha started laughing, and Natalie made a face at her, as Jack wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Martha's smile faltered for a minute, seeing the expression on Natalie's face: half-pained, half-blissful. Oh. Poor thing. She was in Natalie's position in the past. Martha wished she could tell the other woman that things would get better, but imagined that Natalie already knew that. It was getting there that was the problem.
"I've never heard of such a thing, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. What kind of clothes do you generally use, Natalie?" Mickey asked with interest. Martha rolled her eyes and stepped to Jack's side. He wrapped his free arm around her, kissing the top of her head, as Natalie itemized the pieces that worked best, according to her experience. Not surprisingly, t-shirts and undershirts topped the list, although socks worked just as well. Undershorts were another item. Jack teased that he was guessing the undershorts had to be loose, rather than on someone's body, and then yelped when Nat's hand connected with his bum.
Martha stifled a grin, saying, "We'll have to try that for future reference, Nat, but thanks for the suggestion. Now, you are coming to the UK sometime soon, aren't you?" Natalie shrugged, her smile dimming a little, and Martha asked, realizing that she made an assumption that maybe she shouldn't have, "You do have your passport, don't you?" Jack snickered, and yelped again, glowering down at the petite brunette. She offered him an innocent smile, and gifted Martha with a wicked wink. It was all the doctor could do to keep from laughing out loud.
"I have my passport, but I need to make sure it's up to date. There's also the matter of the price of airfare, getting a passport for Ailsa, and finding out if there is any other information that needs to be corrected. General translation, I'll come over when I can," Natalie answered. Any other information. . .oh. Oh, of course. Jack, meanwhile, was studying the brunette thoughtfully, and Natalie looked up at him, saying, "No. Whatever you're thinking, Jack, no. I'm going to pay for this on my own." Jack's expression was his attempt at innocent, but Martha knew him better. Jack would figure out a way to pay for Natalie's trip to England, even if it meant playing dirty. As he told her once, 'I have money to spare, and I'll live for a very, very, very long time.' However, she kept her mouth shut this time.
"Have you hugged everyone, nightingale, everyone who isn't going to the airport with you?" Jack inquired and Martha nodded. Yes, all good-byes were said; all hugs and kisses were exchanged, along with email addresses. Jack glanced down at Natalie, asking, "You ready to go?" Ailsa was with her grandmother and aunt, picking out pies for the upcoming Thanksgiving feast. It was the first time she'd been away from her mother for more than an hour or two since Natalie's return from her undercover assignment to protect Esther.
"Let's get going," Natalie confirmed, "I'd kinda like to get home before Sophia, M-Priscilla, and Ailsa do. Give me one of the bags, and we'll get this show on the road." Martha wasn't allowed to lift anything heavier than Mickey's shaving kit, and so Mickey passed the souvenir bag to Nat. If he was expecting her to stagger under its weight, he was seriously disappointed. She smirked at him, saying, "You forgot two important things about me, Mickey. One, I have a five year old daughter, whom I routinely carry to bed. And two, I've worked in warehouses. I'm a lot stronger than I look. And no, Jack, you can't drive." With those words, the four left the house to begin Mickey and Martha's journey home. And it would be good to be home, but Martha knew she would miss her friends, both old and new.
TWTWTWTWTWTWTW
Mickey and Martha were heading home to England. Natalie and Jack returned from the airport hours ago, long before her mother, sister and daughter returned from shopping. And much to everyone's relief, she even had time for a nap (apparently, Natalie got incredibly cranky when she was exhausted). She was sitting on the sofa and fell asleep against Jack's shoulder while Owen was telling her what comprised her nephews' Man-Cave. Jack looked down at her, his smile both indulgent and rueful as he carefully eased her down onto the cushions more comfortably. He stroked his fingers over her dark hair as he covered her with the blanket, and indicated to Owen that they should head to the bunkhouse and then the base. Owen wanted a Man-Cave inside the base, had a room in mind for it, and wanted to know what Jack thought of it. They couldn't investigate earlier, thanks to the frenzy that happened during comings and goings, but they had time now.
Over the last week, both Esther and Mr. Tregarth kept an eye on the newspaper and reports from the town, to make sure that there were no more Kinnickkinnock attacks and that they did, indeed return through the Rift. Owen had a hard time telling who took Jack's beating more personally: Esther or the director. Carlyon Tregarth wasn't such a surprise, really. He was the director of Torchwood Three until the mid-sixties, and he wasn't inclined to take kindly to harm done to his friends. But Esther? Jack just gave the blonde analyst a bemused look when she explained in very graphic terms just what she'd like to do to the parasites, kissed the top of her head, and left the room. Mr. Tregarth, on the other hand, was easy to understand. Residual guilt was a terrible thing, as Owen knew all too well. And yes, the director did tell Owen several times that he was to call him 'Carlyon,' but Owen wasn't ready to do that yet.
Just as he wasn't quite ready to leave Jack's room, something he told his captain. Jack understood. Nothing was said, but he knew Jack understood. There hadn't been any more horizontal mambos, to borrow that berk Matheson's term, but Owen did crawl into bed with Jack when the latter had a nightmare. Or when Owen had a nightmare and needed to remember that not only was he safe, but he was home. During one of those nights as he trembled against Jack's body, he asked the other man to tell him about meeting Ianto at the Rift. Jack ruefully asked if he wanted to hear about the first or second time-which was how Owen learned about the Rift in Cardiff closing, and the one in Oklahoma opened. It was the first time Owen heard about the Keeper of the Rift, much less about Rift Guardians. Jack admitted it was the same for him, and then he told him about the final part. How he wasn't even sure that the Ianto in the Rift was their Ianto. Owen observed it didn't really matter in the end, did it? It was still Ianto and he still chose to protect the world, to protect Jack. His captain was silent for several moments, before he finally acknowledged that Owen was right.
They also talked about Owen's progress in learning how to drive on the right-hand side of the road. During those times when Martha and Ailsa were napping, Mickey was spending time with the Martinelli boys and others were busy, Natalie took Owen out in her Jeep to get him used to the left-handed steering wheel, driving back and forth from the house to the mailbox. Jack still drove on the left-hand side of the road, putting Owen and Rex together was like mixing two flammable liquids, so Natalie it was. Once he was comfortable with that change, she took him out onto the same road where she learned to drive, more than twenty years earlier. Actually, she admitted, it wasn't either of her sisters or her father who taught her to drive, but Matthew Halloran's father Ryder. He taught her to drive, first with a tractor, then with a car.
He asked why, and Natalie admitted that Octavia didn't have the patience, Priscilla got too nervous (which made her nervous, in turn), and her own father didn't feel comfortable driving, much less teaching her to drive. Ryder Halloran taught all four of his children to drive, and had no issue with teaching the fourteen year old Natalie to drive on the tractor. She admitted with a wry smile that his tutelage was probably one reason why she had no issues with driving larger vehicles. She already drove a tractor, after all. Owen laughed, seeing her point immediately, and asked if Ryder was still alive. She smiled sadly and shook her head, replying that he died when the Daleks moved the Earth. They were threatening some people, and Ryder, a Korean War veteran, never could stand by and watch people being harmed. The Daleks killed him for standing up to them. She was quiet a minute before saying, "Then again, they were threatening his grandson and some of Nicky's friends. I imagine he would have said the price was worth it."
Owen swallowed hard and nodded. Yeah. Yeah, he imagined she was right. And then, he nearly caused her to drive off the side of the road, when he asked her about her (very obvious) attraction to Jack. It was a good job that they were the only ones on the road, between her nearly losing control of the Jeep and the stunned (or maybe he should say horrified) look she turned on him. Evidently, she was thinking that the only one who noticed how she felt about Jack was her birth mother, when it was now the entire household. Hell, even Ailsa noticed it! She gleefully told Owen that her mommy really, really, really, really liked Jack, and giggled when Owen asked her if she wanted to add one more 'really' in there. Ailsa probably didn't understand exactly what that entailed, since she knew that Esther liked Jack just as much. Then again, Owen was surprised sometimes by just how much Ailsa did understand.
It was late now, and everyone was in bed, including both Jack and Owen. Jack had another nightmare earlier (this one about the two thousand years he spent buried alive by his own brother, from the sounds of it), and now Owen was curled against him. Jack's quiet sobs died out earlier, and now he was sound asleep, the nightmares kept away by Owen's presence. The doctor himself was getting drowsy now, as he settled his head against Jack's shoulder, lulled by Jack's heartbeat and the repetition of his own fingers stroking down Jack's hip. The following morning, he and Jack would unpack the boxes of medical software which arrived today while Jack and Natalie were dropping off Mickey and Martha.
The alarm clock beside Jack's bedside read eleven thirty, and as Owen drifted off to sleep, he was taken back once again to those few minutes in his new dimension. He drowsily remembered that first, startled breath of air, the sensation of air on his bare skin, and a woman standing before him. He couldn't see her features, only sensed her smile, as she breathed, "I bring life. . ."
FIN
