Vortex of Glass – 1.2 Arrival

Field Marshal Lethbridge-Stewart, the man they would never let retire, had just sat down in his office. The mug on his desk in front of him gave him a small grin. Coffee was always required in order to help clear his head for the morning these days. Of course, he barely had two sips before his MA ducked back into his office with a quizzical look on his face. "Yes, Major?"

"Sir, sorry for the bother," Major Burke started, "but there's a Captain Harkness on the secure line for you. What's odd about it, is that he claims to be the Director of Torchwood. Wasn't that supposed to be Yvonne Hartman?"

Now while that was a rather ignorant question, he remembered that Burke had been in Africa at the time. Rather than go into full detail, he simply sighed. "Daleks and Cybermen, Burke. Daleks and Cybermen. Which line?"

"Ah," the man nodded ruefully. "Three, sir."

"Thank you," he said with a wave to the door.

"Sir," Burke said before leaving.

Picking up the line, he could be forgiven for a bit of surliness this early in the day. "Harkness, I'm not even done with my first cuppa this morning, so whatever this is, please be succinct."

"Time Lord," was the response.

Blinking, he said, "One moment," he held the phone away from his ear and forced half of his coffee down. Now properly armed, he tried to get more out of the impossible man. "While that was rather succinct, I'm afraid I'll need a bit more detail if you please. Is this about Him?"

"No, sir." Harkness replied. "There's another. I've read your report on being visited by Him right after he survived the Time War. I… well… I was looking for some advice, really."

"It's not that Master bloke, is it?" Stewart asked, alarmed and quite awake now, thanks. "Right blighter, that one."

There was a slight chuckle over the line. "Ah, no. Well, not unless they can change their gender, which I wouldn't put past either of them, but this one is called The Shepard."

Sighing in relief as well as exasperation, he was disgruntled. "Why the devil can't any of them have proper names, for heaven's sake?" he grumbled. "What advice were you looking for, Captain?"

"Shepard arrived last night directly from the end of the Time War, and immediately regenerated from her wounds," Jack explained. "Sounded like it was her first one, since she was scared of it. She's currently sleeping that off after having a mental breakdown all over my Second's shirt."

"Bother," he muttered. That first night with the Doctor went just as well, he remembered.

"Yeah," Harkness sighed. "She had to be convinced to let it happen too. Said she felt and heard the rest of them dying and nearly joined them outta shock. Cooper's handling that, but my question is more about the role He had in UNIT. If this goes the way I think it will, she will be Torchwood's Scientific Advisor when this is over, and I was wondering about the logistics of having her on the payroll."

"Ah," he nodded. "Well, the main thing is setting boundaries and doing your level best to get her to keep them. If this Shepard is anything like the Doctor, she will most likely have you pulling your hair out more often than not. Current procedure has the Scientific Advisor in an equivalent rank to a Brigadier in UNIT, with appropriate pay and etcetera. Not that she'll be overly fussed about that part, mind. He didn't care, and is still on the books with an account at Barclays."

"Right," Harkness replied. "Now I just need to figure out how to deal with her obvious survivor's guilt." He heard the man sigh.

"That will have to be taken as it comes, I'm afraid," he said gently. "In a perfect world, she would be in weekly to daily sessions with a qualified therapist. Seeing as this isn't a perfect world, however," he trailed off as something else came to mind. "Also, please do be aware that you might lose one of your personnel to her if she decides to go gallivanting off. If she's anything like Him, one of them is going to become emotionally involved."

"Oh, this is going to be such a pain in the ass, I just know it," he heard Harkness mumble, and smirked at the shared pain.

"I could have one of our therapists sent down," he brought himself back to the subject at hand, "but I imagine they would have things thrown at them rather… creatively. So, I expect that you have an idea on what to do instead?" he said, darkly amused.

There was a scoff. "Duck and Cover, and wait for an opportunity to get her drunk so she can vent properly."

Stewart chuckled. "Alcohol doesn't affect Time Lords, Captain."

"Oh, that bastard!" Jack swore.

Laughing now, his comment was rather dry, considering. "Drank you under the table, did he?"

"Several times," Harkness confirmed, sounding mulish.

"He caught me out on that more than once myself before I caught wise to that particular titbit, so I understand that hangover," his smile was wide now.

"Still," his mood dropped. "You have my deepest sympathies on having to deal with that. Best advice I can give you is to listen when she talks, and do not attempt to get her to do so before she's ready. I spent a month dealing with Him and His issues, so I know what I'm speaking of."

"And that's the hard part," Harkness lamented.

He nodded. "Quite."

"Thank you," he said.

"Will I be seeing a report?" he asked.

There was a pause. "That… might not be a good idea, Sir. The fact that I was able to get hold of yours on Him doesn't bode well for operational security. Face to face might be better, considering."

"Keep me apprised, at any rate," he said, finishing off his coffee and the call. Yes, that was a rather abrupt cut off, but dammit he was right. Another note to go on the schedule over security matters. Again. 'Probably acquired it through the infernal computers,' he thought.

Jack sighed, looking at the phone before putting it back in its cradle. "Probably shouldn't have mentioned the security bit," he mumbled before standing to get his own dose of caffeine.

He found Ianto to the side of the huge, French coffee contraption, tending a steaming pot of what smelled like tea. "You don't usually make tea any more. What's the occasion?"

"Gwen said our guest is stirring," Ianto said with a nod towards the alcove.

Jack nodded back. "And she's off coffee until she can handle it, right. How you doing? Get enough sleep?"

"About five hours," Ianto confirmed. "Owen and Tosh went home and aren't back yet, but Tosh did say she'd be bringing in some food when she got in." He checked his watch. "which should be in another thirty minutes."

"Gwen hasn't slept, has she?" Jack asked.

Ianto shook his head. "Nope. She's taking this on rather seriously. Watched her a bit, and she grabs Shepard's hand whenever she starts acting like she's having a nightmare." He chuckled. "It's almost sweet, but she's not going to be much help with anything else for a while."

"Kinda expected that," Jack sighed, accepting the coffee Ianto just offered. "Thank you. Triple espresso shots for Gwen," he said before taking a sip. "Might want to give the tea straight, and let Shepard mix it. No telling what she likes."

"That was the idea, yes," Ianto gave him a confused look.

Jack shrugged. "She might not know what she likes either. New taste buds and everything."

"Are we going to talk about the Doctor, and his status with Torchwood?" Ianto asked.

Sighing again, Jack nodded. "When she's up and about, and not delirious or anything. Not before."

"Oh, bless," Gwen said gratefully to Ianto for the huge mug of coffee she was just handed. She immediately took a sip.

Ianto looked their new visitor over. Owen had insisted she wear a filter mask, which made sense from what information they were given about her temporarily delicate condition. And with that in mind, he didn't like her colour. Reminded him of the times his sister had been feverish. "How's her temperature looking?"

Stretching a bit, Gwen took up the baby thermometer – a battery powered one – and gently placed it in her ear, clicking the button. After hearing the beep, she brought it up to look at the display. "Oh, bollocks. Thirty one, five. She wasn't shivering, so I didn't notice."

"The blanket was a clue, and her colour's off," he replied, pointing at the pushed aside cover. "Only child?" he asked her.

"Yeah, just me," Gwen said.

Nodding as he pulled the blanket back up over Shepard's shoulders, he glanced at her. "I have a sister. She'd get like this every year, like clockwork. Ruddy flu," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry," whispered out of Shepard's mouth.

Gwen leaned forward, running her hand over Shepard's forehead. "Shh. Just a dream."

Shepard startled awake. "Wha?" Blinking, she focussed on them. "Gwen? Ianto? I'm in Torchwood. Oh, it wasn't a nightmare," she lamented.

"Morning," Gwen said, smiling tiredly. "Sorry, no. Ianto made some tea. Feel like a cup?"

"Feel like I was hit in the head with Mjölnir," Shepard groaned. "Tea nice. Coffee better."

"That depends on how your stomach feels," Ianto said.

Turning in bed, Shepard made a face. "Not well."

"Tea it is, then," Ianto grinned. "I brought all the extras, but try it straight first."

Sitting up, she groaned as she watched Ianto pour a cup. "Oh, I feel absolutely horrid," Shepard complained. "Was told I'd feel full of energy, and want to run off dancing or whatnot. Liars, the lot of them. Thank you," she said, taking the cup and moving her mask. "I don't recognize the scent," she mumbled before taking a sip. "Needs honey and maybe some lemon?"

Gwen watched Shepard as she fixed her tea, knowing now that she actually was feverish. Her hands were shaky, and her eyes lingered closed more often than open. Closed in the way one would when they try not to think about things.

"Don't suppose there's a mirror about?" Shepard asked. "Be nice to see the face I got. Will have to get used to it now, I suppose. Don't believe much else changed. That's what had me worried the most, not being who I am."

"Is that common?" Gwen couldn't help but ask, reaching down for her purse.

Shepard tilted her head as she rubbed her forehead. "Yes and no. It's more of an individual thing. Some people, apparently like me, just gain a new appearance. Others can have massive personality changes that go along with the physical changes. That's what had me so scared. Sorry, and thank you for your help." She took another draw of her tea.

"I think that's completely understandable," Gwen replied, handing over a small mirror from her makeup kit.

After looking herself over for a bit, which included looking at her teeth and eyes in a very humorous manner, she clucked. "From grandmother to aristocratic noble. Well, at least I'm cute. I'd date me." She gave them a tired smirk. "This tea is lovely, by the way. What kind?"

"Simple breakfast, Twinnings," Ianto said. "Figured it would be easiest on the stomach."

"And my stomach thanks you," Shepard grinned. "Seems to be waking me up, too. Tannins and whatnot. High caffeine?"

"Moderate," Ianto said with a shrug.

"Hmm. Must be the tea itself," she blinked, thinking the Doctor was on to something with the tea, now that she thought about it. She shivered suddenly. "Is it me, or is it a bit chill?"

"You have a fever," Ianto said. "Thirty one, five."

"Oh bollocks," Shepard muttered. "I'm one of those."

"One of what?" Gwen asked.

"One of those that are susceptible to regeneration sickness," Shepard clarified. "I mean, it knocks us about anyway, but some take a bit to stabilize after. I can't remember the last time I've been sick. Please pardon me if I say something completely ridiculous. It's not that I feel silly, but random firings may go off. Oh, be one with yourself Yanyan, or do you have a twin?"

Ianto smirked, "Your eyes are slightly crossed."

"Really? How odd." She turned to Gwen. "You're very pretty, did I mention tha'?" she asked with a loopy grin.

Shepard tipped backwards. Ianto caught her tea, while Gwen blushed with big eyes. Head landing on the pillow, Shepard was out like a light again.

After a beat, Gwen leaned over to pull Shepard's filter mask back up over her nose and mouth. Ianto was still smirking.

"Not a word," she said, not looking at him.

Highly amused, Ianto set the tea back on the tray. "Didn't say anything."