Martha Jones arrived at Cardiff Central at 06:48. She and her boyfriend, Mickey Smith, had just been finishing off their latest job when Gwen had phoned late last night.

At first, the two women had drifted apart after the deaths of Toshiko and Owen as Gwen became more ingrained in the maverick ways of Torchwood whilst she became trapped in the uniformity of life as a Senior Medical Officer for the Unified Intelligence Taskforce. It had been Gwen who'd finally broken her out of that old life in the most Torchwood way possible. And although she'd chosen to go freelance rather than take the vacancy at Torchwood, this time they maintained their friendship, especially after Ianto's sudden death.

Martha had become used to Gwen's late-night phone calls. They nearly all followed the same format. She'd always call under the cover of darkness with a hushed voice that still managed to echo. It hadn't taken her long to deduce that Gwen often got nervous at night and had a habit of sneaking out of bed and into the bathroom to call her away from her husband's prying ears. Martha would be lying if she said that she didn't mind the constant calls but understood her friend's concerns. It didn't matter how many times she told her she wasn't a midwife, Gwen still managed to call her more frequently than her own mother did, which was saying something.

She'd expected last night's call to be the same. Her headset let her know a call had come through – Cooper, Gwen – and Mickey had rolled his eyes as he broke down the last of the firewalls. Literal firewalls, that was. Walls made of fire.

"Bit busy right now, Gwen," she'd whispered, gesturing to Mickey to hurry up. "If there's something wrong with the baby then you're going to have to ring 'NHS Direct' this time."

And that had been when Gwen had told her. Jack was back. And apparently, so was Ianto.

With the firewall down and the threat quickly neutralised she'd spoken a few quick words to Jack, mostly reassuring him that she and Mickey would be there as soon as possible once they'd cleared up. He couldn't or wouldn't tell her how exactly Ianto was back, and by Gwen's further text messages, he wasn't willing to her either. Mickey had joked on the train that if Jack didn't open up, she should set her Francene on him. Martha had swatted him on the arm for that.

Knowing what to pack to complete an examination on an immortal and his boyfriend who'd died in his arms six months prior had been a challenge. Gwen had kept her updated with texts through the night. Ianto was still acting like, well, Ianto. No speaking in tongues or eyes going black. No supernatural abilities, no hint of chameleon properties. He wasn't protesting Jack's treatment of him either, just getting on with being practically surgically attached to him with a roll of his eyes and an embarrassed grin at Gwen and Rhys.

Jack, on the other hand, was even more of a mystery than before. There was no handbook or lecture given during her training about how someone might behave if they were immortal, died with their lover, revived, and then sacrificed their grandson the next day, going on to disappear and travel the world for six months only to reaper with said dead lover.

She hadn't been on the Valiant during 'The Year That Never Was', instead walking the earth telling the story of the Doctor. But she knew terrible things had happened to those prisoners held to ransom by a mad man. Her parents and older sister still bore the mental and physical scars of the Master's torture a year and a half later. During that year, it was only her younger brother Leo, and his girlfriend and young child had never been caught and thus bore no memories of that terrible year. She didn't know what happened to him during that terrible year, whether he'd survived or died at the hands, or blades, of someone who was not the Master. She told herself that it didn't matter now that the entire year had been wiped from existence. That had been Jack's belief too, not that he ever told her much what had happened to him. But she knew that Jack's Torchwood team had been hunted down and killed.

Her family were the same, but whatever the Master had done to them occasionally bled into her sister's dreams. Tish refused to speak about what had happened that year. But for whatever reason, her mother, father, and sister had all refused Jack's offers of retcon to wipe away those memories, just as she had done herself.

Jack had chosen to return to Torchwood and his team afterwards. Martha hadn't seen him again for six months when she seconded to Torchwood Three after a string of unusual deaths in the area.

Owen had been shot through the chest the next night.

Jack had cradled his head and pleaded with him as he died. Hours later, he'd gone and gotten himself mauled by a bunch of Weevils to retrieve a glove to bring Owen back, which unleashed Death itself on the city. It had been Owen who saved them all in the end, gaining everlasting death in the process. That wasn't exactly a usual reaction to grief, either.

He hadn't tried to bring Tosh back when she was shot three months later, or Owen, not that there had been anything left of him to bring back this time. But it seemed he had tried again for Ianto. She couldn't bring herself to watch the footage, but Gwen had told her how Jack had unsuccessfully tried to bargain with the 456 for Ianto's life.

Martha could only hope he hadn't used another glove, after all, not all species had only two hands. The chaos the last two had caused seemed more than enough and she'd only been there to witness one of them.

In the end, she'd packed up everything she could possibly think of for their journey to Cardiff, plus enough supplies to give the anxious Gwen another check-up. With Torchwood, everything was over the top. It was better to be over-prepared than under, and as she'd found whenever she worked with them, it was impossible to be over-prepared. It didn't matter how well planned you thought you were, Torchwood proved you were wrong every time.

As she and Mickey hauled their various bags off the train, she heard a familiar voice.

"And on a cold morning in Cardiff, I suddenly hear the voice of a nightingale. Shame it's followed by the voice of Disney. Who would've thought it, eh?"

"Oi, Captain Scarlet-"

"Oh, don't start this again," she sighed. "Can you two ever just leave each other be?"

Jack laughed. He let go of Ianto's hand to come over and hug her. "Good to see you again, Miss Martha Jones. How was the honeymoon?"

"Six months ago," she replied bluntly. "And for the last time, it wasn't a honeymoon, just a holiday."

"A holiday that was booked to be a honeymoon," Gwen added with a smile.

"Not you too!"

It was an old joke. After the paradox was reversed, she'd hunted down Tom Milligan, the doctor who had tried to save her, despite having known her for less than a day, only to be murdered by the Master during those last few hours. She'd thought that she might have been a bit in love with him. It was a quick romance and less than six months later they were engaged. It hadn't worked out.

In reality, their relationship had been a bit of a bad coping mechanism on Martha's part in response to the last hellish year she'd lived through.

It hadn't helped that the Tom Milligan who'd died for her was not the same man who'd proposed to her. The first Tom had survived a year of terror and destruction, fighting as part of the resistance. The other hadn't. She could still see that same fire and drive, yet he had little for it to be applied to in comparison. His job in paediatrics was a walk in the park to the life he'd lead in the aborted timeline.

They'd parted on good terms though. The honeymoon they'd booked seemed a waste to cancel and Tom had offered her the chance still to go if she wanted to. After finding herself at a loose end having parted ways with UNIT, she unexpectedly found that she did. Jack, Gwen, and Ianto had never let her forget it was supposed to be a honeymoon when she'd accidentally announced after a few drinks too many that she was thinking of asking if Mickey wanted to come with her.

"It's good to see you again," Gwen said hugging her as well.

"You too. How's the baby?"

"Oh, you know, playing football with my bladder still, but we're getting there," she laughed, hand rubbing her stomach gently as she spoke.

"Stopped thinking it's an alien then?" Mickey asked.

"For now." Rhys faked a long-suffering sigh as he greeted the other man.

"Here, let me take some of those bags," Jack said, picking up Martha's luggage before she could protest. With his hands full, he suddenly looked anxiously over at Ianto, obviously too polite to take back his actions but unsure of how to continue without being able to hold Ianto's hand, who'd been silently standing behind them with a warm smile on his face. The stricken look on his face was almost comical; it was as if Jack had suddenly remembered that Ianto was there, having forgotten him in his excitement to see Martha again.

Rhys quickly took over before anyone else could notice or comment. "Give some here, mate," he said, taking some out of Jack's hands. "Blimey, what've you got in here, then? Everything except the kitchen sink, it feels like!"

"More like everything and the kitchen sink. I know what you lot are like, remember," Martha replied, in turn taking some of Mickey's luggage.

She turned to the only person she'd yet to greet. "Ianto."

The man in question nodded at her. "Martha. Good to see you again."

"You too," she replied.

"Mickey! I don't think you've met my partner, Ianto Jones," Jack quickly introduced, as if he'd only just remembered the reason they were all here. "Ianto, this is Mickey Smith. Complete idiot, but somehow all the beautiful women seem to fall for him anyway."

"Sounds familiar," Ianto huffed, shaking his head as Mickey loudly protested. Ianto held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mickey."

"Likewise."

The three couples walked out of the station, joking between them, holding the hand of their partner.