Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they own me. Special thanks to Toby Whithouse and BBC3 for the playground. Beta assistance from TJ4ev and Whimsyfox enables (most of) my grammar to pass muster for Hal.


With marigolds immersed in suds and spray, Carl was doing the washing up. Distractedly, Alex wondered if the propensity towards immediate dish duty was a dry vampire thing. She was leaning casually, one hip against the corner of the counter as she dried each rinsed cup. The sink faced a sunken window with a view of the water only slightly obscured by small pots of culinary herbs on its ledge. Further afield, Hal and Davi were engaged in conversation at the water's edge.

Their talk at the table had lulled into an awkward silence after Hal had asked Davi to join him outside. Carl was stealing glances at them through the window, lost in thought. Alex had offered help with the washing up in an attempt to remain friendly, as well as for her own distraction. Thoughts of Cutler and the monologue he gifted her with before her death weighed heavily, as did the palatable guilt that she observed in Hal over his misguided recruit. His shoulders were visibly stiff and tense, even from here. In contrast, Davi's stance was loose, shrugging occasionally while he skipped stones across the still waters of the bay. Alex was out of teacups to dry so she deepened her lean and regarded Carl. She decided to break the heavy mood with more simple, personable matters. "So... how'd you meet Hal?"

The edges of Carl's eyes lightened and he laughed at her question. "Much to his displeasure, I sought him out. I was tired of living like…" he pursed his lips with distaste, pausing with a teacup in the stream of water. "Well, let us just say I was utterly horrendous at being a vampire. In desperation, I solicited the help of an Old One I'd heard a rumour of. An Old One who knew how to control it... at least, for a while. I tracked him to Tibet."

"Tibet? Jesus he's been around. Huh." Carl made a another little laugh at Alex's statement. "So," she continued when he didn't add anything further. "Hal taught you how to go dry?"

Carl gave the kettle a rinse, pouring water from the spigot then turned off the faucet. "Yes, he did. Hal saved me really. I was ready to end it by the time I found him."

"What happened? He thought you were dead too. Before all this?"

"Oh, well, that." He picked up two teacups from the strainer, one finger looped through the handles and began returning the dishes to the cupboard, turning his back to her. Given Carl's abrupt silence Alex thought maybe she had pushed too far, but then he closed the cupboard and returned to face her. "Actually," he started, leaning against the counter opposite with palms pressed to the edge. His fingers relaxed as he regarded her with a soft scrutiny. "Maybe you can understand. He has allowed you to get close?"

"Somewhat," Alex admitted.

"It was simple, really. I fell in love with him." Alex could feel the surprise on her face and tried to school her reaction back to reserved, suddenly unsure what to say. Carl was Hal's ex? She wasn't bothered by the idea exactly - Hal had certainly lived long enough to try a few things - but his dismissal when she had asked if he had a boyfriend when they first met was so... dismissive.

Carl brushed it off with a tilt of his shoulder. "Hal didn't reciprocate. He's had... a past. And he couldn't…" he trailed off as his gaze returned past the window to where the subject in question was standing with his back to them. Folding his arms across his chest, still watching Hal and Davi, he continued. "I was young, devastated, and terribly angry. I left with a friend of his to fight for the British Expedition - in a war I had no business in and…" he paused. "I made a mistake. The grief over what I had done…" Carl dropped his eyes with a small sigh. "It was easier to disappear than seek his counsel on how to begin again. But... by the time I realized my error, he had reverted. Terribly. We never spoke again."

"Oh," Alex stated awkwardly as she looked for something else to do. Carl caught her hand before she could reach for the terry, his touch cool and light.

"It was all water under the bridge a century ago." He held her hand aloft, like he was examining her. "You however, are just his type. Strong. And feisty."

"I didn't realize he had a type."

Carl released her with a casual shrug. "He trusts those who are the most forward with him. I'm coming to think it is age. You do know he's older than America, right?"

"More like the discovery-of, but yeah. I know."

"Interesting…" Carl openly showed his surprise. Clearly he had expected to have one over on her, but then seemed to regard her with even more scrutiny. "When we were friends his past wasn't an easy topic to speak of. He has let you in more than I would have guessed. You haven't been a ghost very long, and yet you're this strong. What are you? Twenty-five?"

Alex scoffed and pulled away, about to retort when Hal, followed by Davi, returned to the house and entered the kitchen.

Hal met her eyes after glancing between her and Carl. "Getting along, are we?"

"Alex was about to disclose how she has come to be so fully on this mortal plane. After interrogating me ruthlessly about your sordid past, of course." Carl teased, light-hearted.

"A pleasure we all must save for another time," Hal answered dryly. "We have to go," he said to Alex. She knew from his tone that he meant go as in go. Whatever he had learned from Davi, they would be rent-a-ghosting the news directly to Rook.

"Thank you for your kindness," Hal inclined his head to Davi. "I will keep you informed of events as we become aware of them."

"And thank you for bearing the news to begin with. You have my gratitude."

"If you change your mind about your involvement," Hal started but Davi stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I will reach out. Thank you, Hal."

Hal nodded and pulled away. Carl had begun to approach them and Hal met his imploring eyes.

"Carl," he began softly, regarding his friend with a sad smile.

"When all this is over we shall share a bottle of Musigny and map the stars, mon frère. You know where to find me."

"I do. Thank you, Carl."

Alex started toward the door, giving a nod to Carl who had placed an arm across Davi's shoulders. "Lovely to meet you both."

"You as well, senhorita Alex," Davi answered warmly.

Carl's eyes were dark when they met hers however. "Please, be careful," he said. Alex somehow had the sense his warning was more meant for her, than Hal.

They left on foot back up the drive and Hal was silent. They could have teleported directly, but Alex supposed that would have been yet one more thing to explain. It seemed Hal was making his way back to their borrowed car. "We don't have to return it to Grimsay, do we?"

"No, presumably Rook has someone to handle it," Hal answered curtly.

"What else did Davi tell you?"

"Nothing that was of any use." He kept walking even though Alex didn't see any reason as to why he should. They were well enough out of sight from the house.

"Hey," she reached for him and caught his hand. He stopped, but didn't face her. Alex joined him in staring off into the distant hills. "This isn't your fault, you know. Cutler -"

"Cutler's ambition was instilled by me." Hal kept his gaze afield and his tone was cold. After a pause he continued, softer. "There is so much you don't know."

Alex only tightened her hold on his hand, even though her stomach knotted. A chasm of unspoken thought opened between them, unexpected as an earthquake but just as real. The silence of everything he was reluctant to say was met with her unknowing of what to say. Her silence could be misunderstood as her agreement to his statement but it wasn't that at all. Hands with black sickles of fingernail… The visceral dream from this morning burned brand-like behind her eyes, but she shoved it away. Now was definitely not the time to ask. If she chose her words carefully, then maybe she could bridge the span between them.

She kept her tone as even as she could. "Someday, maybe you can enlighten me. But... I fail to see how the actions of an entire group could be your fault, even if what Davi insinuated is true." Alex paused, remembering what Carl had said to her. If she couldn't be forward about this, then she couldn't be forward about anything else. Gently, she added the simple question, "Is it?"

Hal's gaze turned skyward, as if he were seeking the answer to her question above the distant hills. The cheerful birdsong was at odds with the sombre tone between them, but the tension seemed slightly relieved by her question. "Certain duties have always been… required of the Old Ones. Snow…" he spoke the old vampire's name with disdain. "I was given such a task after my previous hiatus," he haltingly admitted.

"As a - what? A punishment?" Alex hazarded, trying to understand.

Hal dropped his gaze and turned to her, his expression haunted. "If you live long enough..." he started, then shook his head. The full embodiment of sorrow sat behind his eyes. He cleared it away with a sigh then placed his other hand on her waist. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

Alex kept a hold of his gaze, searching to somehow make sure he was alright. He had ended their conversation, but at least the chasm between seemed thwarted, for now. Hesitantly, she draped her arm over his shoulder and cupped the back of his neck, "So, the Archive then?"

Hal pulled them closer together as he answered with a single nod. With one last searching gaze, Alex steeled herself and closed her eyes to call up the memory. Picturing an office deep underground and miles upon miles away, they were gone, nowhere and then -

- a china teapot, complete with blue floral swirls and matching cup and saucer, sat steaming in domestic contrast to the overbearing grey of the desk beneath it. Compared to the open sky of their island journey, the interior of the Archive was oppressively contained. Computer keys clacking, Rook was furiously typing without any indication of being aware of their presence. Hal pulled away from Alex, relieved everything seemed to be in order. Without the use of his memories, the teleportation jump was as normal as could be expected. He took a commanding step towards the desk, but the department head of the Regulatory Office of Constructivism held up one stiff finger, barely missing a beat in his typed correspondence. Rook dropped his hand to continue his work as Hal narrowed his eyes. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against a filing cabinet with clear impatience and no short degree of scorn.

"One of you needs to just kiss the other, I swear," Alex plopped into a chair facing Rook's desk with a decisive huff.

With a pointed click of his mouse, Rook finally completed his business then turned, placing both hands upon his desk and facing Hal with a placating smile. "The majority of my colleagues have the courtesy to ring before they 'drop in' Mr. Yorke."

"We have arrived with the assumption you would not wish any further delay," Hal sneered poshly despite his casual posture.

"You found our Brazillian, then?"

"Yes, of course. The story he had to tell is quite fascinating."

"He knows who is behind the attacks?" Rook asked with a mild hint of eagerness.

"Of course he does. But you already knew that," Hal stated, leaving no room for argument. "His father is their Alpha, after all."

Alex folded her arms over her chest and shifted back in her chair, kicking her boots up onto Rook's desk for good measure. Hal remained leaning, keeping a distance.

"What makes you think that I knew?" Rook asked flatly.

"Your department knew he had defected. Certainly you also knew why."

"A lobisomem fraternizing with a vampire was most unusual, that is true." Rook conceded, folding his hands on his desk and giving a scrutinous eye to where his stack of files were shaking due to Alex tapping her foot. Unconcerned he returned his attention to Hal. "But we couldn't assume their romance was the only reason."

"In that, you are correct. Young Davi's political conscience runs as far afield from his Pack as his personal tastes apparently. If you were watching the Lobisomem, then you must have known about their recruitment policy?"

"Never have the Lobisomem caused need for us during my lifetime. Their entire Pack utilizes more discretion than most. One among them has kept us informed of their whereabouts. As long as they keep their existence contained, their business is their own. It is the same policy we hold for all Types, Mr. Yorke." Rook pointedly looked in the general direction of where Alex was sprawled as well.

"So you are saying you weren't aware of the increase in their numbers?" Hal pushed.

"Of course we are aware. Shall I refer you to my previous statement?"

"Then you are fool." Leaving the accusation hanging, Hal approached the desk and took the chair next to Alex, sitting slowly before speaking. "The Lobisomem intend war."

At that, Rook finally furrowed his calculated brow, "War?"

"It has already begun. The effects would perhaps have been more felt if the vampires had any inkling as to what was happening. Has there been any news from Richard Turner, perchance?"

"So he is involved," the beginning of a smug smile tugged the edges of Rook's pointed mouth.

"I didn't say that. Has Richard been detained?"

"In a way," Rook narrowed his eyes. "Tell me what you have discovered and I will tell you of Mr. Turner."

Alex watched the subtle shift in Hal's posture and the muscles at his jaw clench in irritation. She straightened her slouching and leaned on an elbow towards him. He took steadying breath, then forged ahead telling Rook what he needed to hear. "The Lobisomem plan to come out of their den. They are planning to take out as many of my kind as possible in the process. It will be public. It will be messy. It will be war."

"How? Where?" Rook's pale eyebrows had knitted together.

"Davi left with Carl before being privy to anything more than the Movement. As to where…" Hal cocked his head and smiled smugly. Something about that smile turned a knot in Alex's stomach. Was Hal gloating this over Rook?

Rook swallowed and sank back in his chair, hands falling limply to the armrests. "It is here, is it not?"

"You did know," Hal laughed darkly.

"Suspicions. Nothing more. Nothing… that made any sense. Until now." Rook sighed, then leaned forward, resting on his elbows. "There has been a strange conflux of Type 2s in our area. Solitary individuals, that were they alone in their destination, wouldn't raise concern. Werewolves are transient by nature, and many have come to pass through our region. Yesterday however, two known to the Cumbria area were tracked to Cardiff, and several more from the Highlands and Cornwall have been on the move. Our Ireland division reported one of their registered packs as missing, until we confirmed that their caravan was here, in Barry."

"And what of the vampires?"

"What of them? Many are convened in London and other strongholds, bickering over power. Those who are not, well, it appears to be business as usual."

"None have shown any intention of coming to Wales?"

"Not that we have intercepted."

"The firm has been compromised. It would seem they are attempting to expose us…"

"Except?"

Hal had slotted into strategy like an old coat, familiar and fitted. He examined all the pieces on the table that he knew of, yet acknowledged there was more to the puzzle than presented.

"Except that they haven't. This has been at play for months. Either they haven't been successful because your department has covered everything up, or their intention was for a long-term game."

"You said there was an informant with the Brazilians? Er, Rook, I mean?" Alex interjected. After spending a day meeting other supernaturals she must have almost forgotten that Rook couldn't hear her.

Hal caught her meaning and added to the question. "Would your informant in their ranks have informed the Pack of this department?"

"I suppose it is possible, but I doubt it." Rook was dismissive.

"Mere exposure isn't the only intent. Davi said that their goal was for annihilation, and we wouldn't be able to stop it."

"The full moon is merely days away. With an influx of Type Three's infiltrating South Wales, of all places. Why here? What is here? How could they possible draw a crowd of vampires?"

"Sheffield, Derby, Bristol and London…" Hal recounted. "All of the fight rings that were destroyed."

"Yes, I'd thought of that. Politics and sport do seem to be the favoured way for your kind to gather," Rook mused.

"And let's not forget taking over the world," Alex sniggered. Hal rolled his eyes.

"Except that is the end of it. Bermondsey was the last destination in our immediate area."

As Rook stated it, Hal raised one quirked eyebrow. This man who seemed to know everything about supernatural activities, did not seem to know about one crucial thing. Reluctantly, he shook his head. "No, it wasn't."

Rook sincerely looked surprised. "There is another?"

"Shit - there's more? How many fight rings do you people bloody need?" Alex retorted.

"There were a few... needs-must locations without permanent structure. Hetty's heir was fond of hosting one, if memory serves."

"Herrick?" Rook asked and Hal confirmed with a nod. "And this needs-must location was here, in Wales?"

"It was here, in Barry."

Realization dawned over Rook's sharp features. "The Pleasure Park."

"Vampires do love their little ironies Mr. Rook."

Rook sank in his chair. "All they have to do is announce a fight. With the thirst for retribution after London high, the vampires will come from the four corners."

Hal shook his head in disagreement. "After the bombings and what happened to the Old Ones? No. Even if someone of considerable reputation were to make the invitation, it would be questioned. I fail to see how they would convince the others to travel here."

"Yes, but publicly however, there has only been one bombing. We have intelligence that the unfortunate downfall of the other locales has not been disclosed beyond an internal investigation."

Hal narrowed his eyes, "And what intelligence would that be?"

Rook steepled his hands, fingers pressed together as he regarded Hal. "There is someone you need to see." Rook commanded, rising from his desk and walking around them with renewed determination. Reluctantly, Hal stood from his chair and tilted his head curiously at Alex. Rook had paused, hand on the closed door of his office and waiting expectantly for them to join him in his request.