ORRIEN SUCKS.

There. I said what you were all thinking. I'm sorry. -cries- I was off school today because I was ill from stress, and although some of the lateness of this chapter was laziness (I will admit that), some of it was down to panic about universities and stuff.

Definitely going to follow my dream of becoming a scriptwriter. If anybody has any useful contacts at all, or any suggestions of potential work experience, I would love you forever more. You probably don't want to give them to me because this chapter was late, but maybe if I beg nicely..? Also, the sooner all of this gets sorted, the sooner I can get back to this.

So. I've been writing scripts. If anybody wants to get into email correspondence, maybe read one through for me (they aren't that great, because I've just started - but I need help to improve!), that would be amazing. I would be incredibly grateful (albeit also a bunch of jittery nerves, because this is all new to me).

Mark and I are still loyally working on One Good Reason, and it WILL be epic. Two Doctors, two worlds, two sides of the Rift! In fact, almost as many doubles as Closing Time! xD

Many thanks to my beta readers as ever. Hopefully Martha is more in character this time around, and clone-Jack definitely is! I wrote this without a solid idea of which Jack was which - incredibly fun to do. But Mark and I have an inkling which is the real one. Do you? I'm curious.

Really hope this was worth the wait. I wanted to get it perfect. Or near enough that my perfectionist self was pleased with it.


Greg peered curiously over Martha's shoulder. "What are you doing?"

Martha looked up from the computer database that she was searching. "Looking up the medical records of Ianto's parents."

"His parents worked for Torchwood?"

Martha shook her head, frowning at the computer screen.

"Then why would they be on the Torchwood database?" Greg asked. "Is this a new policy, keeping operatives' families on record as well?"

Martha looked at him in surprise, then laughed. "Everybody's on record. It's like...a worldwide net of information. You can just search for information, and find it. Well, that's the theory, anyway."

"Worldwide? How does that work?"

"All the computers are connected. It's called the internet."

Greg frowned. "So it's like a joint database for all the Torchwoods?"

Martha smiled. "Not just Torchwood. All the computers, all around the world. In every single home."

Greg visibly stiffened. "There are computers in homes?"

"Yeah." Martha grinned. "Not just used for science these days. Writing, communication, finding information, even playing games with people you've never met. Fascinating new world, huh?"

Greg worried his lower lip with his teeth. "Yeah, fascinating. Sorry – you said all the computers were connected?"

"Yep. All of those connected to the internet are connected to each other."

"And we – Torchwood – we're connected to the internet?"

Martha smiled. "Sure."

Greg stared at her for a moment. "What the hell happened to the Official Secrets Act?"

A heartbeat passed between them before Martha burst into laughter. "God, no! You can choose what information to share. Don't worry!"

Greg let out a visible sigh of relief. "I actually thought for a second there that everybody knew. Everybody – out there. Knowing what we do."

"You prefer it a secret? I think I'd like everybody to know the truth, if I thought they were ready."

"Really?" Greg looked at her as though she were utterly mad. "But wouldn't you feel like everybody was depending on you?"

Martha smiled gently at him. "Greg, hate to break it to you, but everybody's depending on us as it is. They just don't know it."

Greg returned her smile. "You know what I mean. If we get it wrong, it's only Torchwood that we have to answer to. There aren't angry mobs of people demanding to know about our latest alien discoveries. There's still tonnes of pressure, sure, but not as much as there would be."

"Look who's turning into Mr Insightful," Martha teased. She glanced back at the computer screen. "Nope, according to his genetics, there's no way that Ianto can be O positive. And his birth certificate has him down as B positive. I doubt that two doctors managed to get it wrong."

"Unless doctors these days just aren't that smart." He caught sight of Martha's expression and hurriedly amended, "Not that that can be said of any doctors in this room, of course."

"Nice save."

"Thanks." Greg rubbed at his face. "God, I'd forgotten how exhausting this work is."

"You and me both." Martha tilted her head to one side, like she was trying to physically view the information from a different angle. "If Ianto is O positive, why would two doctors and Jack – three different people – be convinced otherwise? It doesn't make sense."

Greg thought for a moment. "Because they were telepathically attuned to the idiocy of the doctor who first made the mistake."

Martha laughed. "I'm sure that's the answer. Not sure Jack'll appreciate you saying he's attuned to idiots, but–" Her eyes widened. "You're an accidental genius, Greg Bishop."

"I am?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yep. They're attuned. The clones are attuned, it's – it's like a hive mind." She was gesturing frantically with excitement now. "They take surface memories, Jack said. What if they instantly share those memories, those thoughts?"

"So the doctors were both clones? Jack was – is – a clone?"

Martha shook her head. "No, sorry, confusing you. Okay. Ianto was B positive when he was born. Somehow – probably an infection or something from Jack – he changed to O positive blood type. With me so far?"

Greg nodded.

"Right. Except that Ianto doesn't know that his blood type has changed, because the samples are just for records – nobody really looks at them unless they have a reason to. And because Ianto thinks he's B positive, all the clones think that he's B positive as well."

"So even though he isn't, because he thinks he is...he is?"

"Exactly!" Martha beamed.

"That..." Greg shook his head. "This Torchwood is even more confusing than mine, honestly."

"Now we need to figure out how this information helps us."

"We could tell who's a clone by tricking them into believing false information," Greg suggested. "I think that's what Jack tried to do."

"Just this once, he might've had a brilliant idea." Martha smiled. "Okay, so we know that the Ianto in the vaults is a clone. What about Anna?"

Greg paused.

"Unsure? Okay. We can work with that."

"Martha–"

"What we can do," Martha continued, "is make her believe that–"

"Martha," Greg interrupted, a little louder.

She looked over at him. "Yeah?"

"I don't have a watch – well, not a working one – and there don't seem to be any clocks around here, but...don't you think it's been a while since we heard from Jack?"


The room was a remarkably sharp haze as Ianto regained consciousness, as though several different – though perfectly detailed – versions of its layout had been transposed over each other. Eventually, it settled into one image, though Ianto couldn't have said which, or even if it were the 'right one'. He'd given up trying to discern what was truth when it came to this room. He was also more taken by another thought, as despite there now only being one room, there were quite plainly two Jacks standing before him. "Oh God."

"Not heaven just yet, I'm afraid. Though to be honest, without me, could heaven ever match up?" Jack grinned.

The other Jack smirked.

"Was one of you not enough?" Ianto groaned. "I have a headache as it is."

"If it's just your head that's aching, I'm not doing my job right." A familiar winning smile, like a caricature of Jack. The bits that he remembered most, though he knew there was more to it. There was always more to Jack.

Ianto watched them both with a strange mixture of confusion and contempt. "And what's your job, exactly?"

"Leader of Torchwood Three. Ex-Time Agent. Conman."

"Ex-conman?"

"Always a conman." The grin fell slightly.

"If you're trying to convince me that you're Jack, you might want to consider the fact that there's usually only one of him."

The Jack on his left shot him a withering look. "Well, gee, I don't know if you noticed, but there are kinda several clones running about."

"Really, I hadn't noticed," Ianto deadpanned. "Completely oblivious."

"Not to mention there are usually at least two of me," the other Jack pointed out. "If not three. One day in 1941, there were four." His face lit up. "You should've been there. We'd have had some fun."

"There were four of you?" Ianto raised an eyebrow. "And yet the world didn't end?"

Jack grinned. "Actually, it did. Twice. But we averted the crises."

"We?"

"Me and the Doctor. Different Doctor each time, though."

Ianto quirked his eyebrows. "So you even replaced him eventually, then."

"He's not the sort to be replaced."

"None of you are," the other Jack interrupted.

Ianto smiled. "Really, Jack would never say that."

"Or at least, he wouldn't mean it, right?" The Jack on his left grimaced.

"I'd want him to. But probably not," Ianto said softly. "No, that's a lie. I wouldn't want him to say it."

"Part of you would."

Ianto paused. "Maybe. I suppose you know better than I do."

Jack shook his head. "No. I've seen it all before, but I never know. I never learn, you ought to have realised that by now." A quick, wry smile. "You're not a replacement for Greg, because it's stupid to even think that somebody can be replaced. Everybody is unique, and so are their ties to everybody else."

"Some ties are similar," the other Jack said slowly. "I won't deny that. I'm a–"

"Fixed point in time and space," Ianto interjected, sounding exhausted.

"I'm part of the universe. Forever. And the universe needs balance – just like everybody does."

"Like yin and yang?" Ianto smirked a little.

The Jack on his left crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Are you mocking my theory of the universe?"

"Absolutely."

"Good." The Jack on his right grinned. "I love a rebel to authority."

"As I was saying," Jack continued, with a sidelong glance at his twin, "I need balance. I need people to make me feel human, and people that understand when I need to shut myself off from the world. I need people that can laugh about all of this, and I need people who treat this job seriously. I need people that love me with everything that they've got, and people that understand that I can't do the same. I need people. And they're not the same. They all keep me grounded, they all stop me turning into a complete monster, but there will never be two of them the same. Ever."

"That's...enlightening."

"You don't sound convinced," the other Jack pointed out.

"That's because the Jack he knows would never admit anything like that."

Ianto paused. "And that...is very clever. Oh, that's very clever."

Both Jacks raised an eyebrow simultaneously.

"And that's very creepy. Don't do that."

"Sorry."

"You're trying to get me to choose between the two of you."

"Oh, finally he gets it."

"You're trying to get me to choose the real Jack out of the two of you."

"Points for perception. Definite points for perception." Jack grinned.

"Since when do I give points?" The other Jack frowned.

"Really, though, did you honestly think that I'd ever believe that one of you was the real Jack?"

"Yes?"

"As though Jack would honestly ever collaborate with anybody who'd taken members of his team hostage."

Both Jacks' faces fell.

"You really didn't think this through, did you?"


...I don't deserve your reviews. -cries- I'm SORRY!