Warning: The final instalment of "Bits of Bliss" is set almost twenty five years after the events of "End of Days" (01x13). According to canon, the average life expectancy of a Torchwood Agent is optimistically 35. That is reflected here, which means that people have died and life has gone on.

November, 2031

Erin Harper was not a fan of karma. For one thing, she'd never seen conclusive proof that it actually existed. For another, it never seemed to do anything good for her. She wasn't egotistical enough to think that the really big things happened because of her actions, but the little shite was more than enough to convince her that someone out there had it in for her at the slightest excuse. For example, the one time she decided to bug out of the lab early and meet her friends at the pub to watch a match? There was an emergency of some kind that shut down one of the laboratory buildings. Not just any laboratory building, but the one where her fourth-year project (and the hardcopies of all of her notes, and her specimens, and god she was fucked if anything serious had happened) were housed.

Leaving the notes behind had seemed like a great idea, back when she'd started the practice (of course, back in first year she'd rarely left the building except to eat or sleep, so it hadn't exactly been a sacrifice). Her advisor had endorsed the idea, saying that it would be good for her to have a definitive break between her academic work and "the rest of her life." Unfortunately, bright yellow caution tape told her that her mental health might well be taking a holiday, especially if it turned out that the local copper was there for more than just decorative purposes.

The one thing working in her favor was that she knew the PC. They'd been in the same classes first and second years, before he'd decided that uni wasn't for him and he'd rather get a paying job and start living his life. "Evening, Dan. Got you working overtime, eh?"

He shrugged, giving her a small smile. "Pays the bills, eh?"

She nodded, slipping her hands into the pockets of her jacket as the wind kicked up. "Don't suppose you know what all the fuss is about, do you?"

Dan shook his head, casting a brief look over his shoulder at the innocent (and perfectly normal looking) biochem building. "You know how it is, nobody tells the PCs anything. Just show up and do as we're told."

"So who's doin' the tellin' today?"

"Some top secret clean-up group, that's what I hear." He gestured over his shoulder at a man standing just outside the main entrance to the building. "Torchwood, or some such nonsense. Why we need bloody specialists to clean up a tiny little chemical spill is beyond me, but I guess that's why I'm not wearing the fancy suits. Not that they're wearing fancy suits, mind you."

"Right, course not." Erin nodded, cutting him off before he could launch any further into one of his favorite rants. She'd grown up in Cardiff, everyone there knew exactly how big of a headache Torchwood could be, even if none of them knew what it was. "So he's the bloke who knows what's going on, yeah?"

"He's the one's been givin' orders, him and his team."

"I'm in a bit of a bind, here, see. I've gone and left all of my notes up on the third floor, and my advisor's going to kill me if I don't have them for our meeting tomorrow." She bit her lip, glancing back over at the man leaning against the doors. "You think you could take a look at my ID, all official like, and let me through to talk to him? I just need a minute, and I promise I won't cause a fuss, but if I could at least find out what's going on…"

Dan glanced back over his shoulder again, then over to where the small crowd of onlookers had been earlier in the afternoon, only to find that the students had decided it wasn't worth braving the damp chill for a chance at some gossip. "All right, go ahead." He waited for her to fish out her ID and took a moment to examine it carefully before handing it back and lifting the tape for her to duck under. "You'll come right back, yeah? Boss'll have my head if he finds out I let anyone in."

She mimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key as she slipped her ID back into her pocket. "I'll just be a tick." She jogged over to the containment officer, who ignored her in favor of talking into his earpiece. She waited for him to acknowledge her, crossing her arms against the cool fall air. She almost cut in, wanting to just find out what she could and leave again, but he sounded angry enough that she didn't want to risk it.

"Well you get someone here, and you do it now. I don't care if they're short-handed, we're down two men right now and this thing is not happy. They can spare someone." He turned, and frowned when he realized Erin was still standing there. "Look, I've got to deal with something. Just, make it happen, okay?" He tapped the earpiece once before turning his attention fully to Erin. "Can I help you, Miss…?"

"Harper." Erin squared her shoulders and tried not to look as nervous as she felt. "It's Erin Harper."

"Huh. Guess I owe Kim an apology after all." The man took a minute to look her over, letting out a low whistle. "Starting 'em young these days, aren't they? Although I guess wasn't much question for you, what with your father an all."

Erin blinked and tried not to look as lost as she felt. "My father?"

"You're Owen's girl, right? Right shame, what happened to him." The man shook his head sympathetically. "Never mind your mum; wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. Never seen a psychic bond end well, and I've been in this business for longer than you've been alive." He shuddered dramatically.

It was surreal, a stranger knowing so much about the incident that had torn her family apart. Especially considering that she herself didn't know what had happened. She nodded mechanically, trying to figure out how to learn more without giving away her own ignorance. Her parents had both worked for the Crown, but she'd never known more than that. It was important work, or so her uncle and aunt told her, so important that her parents couldn't have her with them when she was little. It was always "we'll talk when you're older", and then one day her da had died in some kind of lab accident, and her mam had locked herself away, and the only thing her uncles and aunts would tell her was to give it time. "Get out," her Uncle Jack had said, "See the sights, meet some people. Your mother needs space, right now. There's nothing you can do to help her, so you need to take care of yourself." He'd been the one to arrange for her to attend university in Oxford, pulling strings to allow her to go a year early as long as she passed her A-Levels that spring.

The man cleared his throat, and she realized that she'd missed something. "I'm sorry?"

"I said, call me Rob. Much as I'd like to catch up on the gossip from the Hub, we've got an airborne critter mucking up the atrium in here like you wouldn't believe. Work first, talk later, yeah?"

"Um, sure. But, I'm not-"

"Don't worry, this is nothing compared to that pteradactyl you guys have over in Cardiff. Gotta say, I still can't believe Harkness keeps the thing around as a mascot, but I guess quite a lot of his decisions make no sense to the uninitiated, eh?" His earpiece beeped, and he tapped it as he led her into the building. Erin considered just getting herself conveniently misplaced, but couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd be in trouble when Torchwood, the urban legend of Cardiff that apparently wasn't an urban legend after all, figured out she wasn't supposed to be there, but Rob had said that he'd known her da. More importantly, he knew what had happened to her da. She couldn't just walk away knowing she might have been able to learn the truth.

"Germaine, go. Wait, you did what? Is it hurt? Well, that's something, at least. I'm just getting in now, had a problem getting an outside signal due to something down in the basement. No, I don't know what it was, let's just focus on the positives, shall we? Right, look, I'll be there in a tick and I've got Harper out of Cardiff along for the ride." He stopped, midway up the first flight of stairs in the atrium, and Erin nearly walked right into him before catching herself. He turned, the easygoing expression on his face shifting to cautious neutrality. "What do you mean Cardiff told us to piss off? Right. No, I understand." He tapped his earpiece again, ending the communication, before casually pulling a pistol from his back pocket and removing the safety. "Well, Ms. Harper, seems there's been a bit of a mix-up." Erin swallowed hard, or tried to. Her mouth was so dry there wasn't really anything to swallow, but the attempt was reflexive. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble. My boss will be down in a minute, and we'll get everything sorted out."

Erin nodded, and tried to convince herself to relax. It almost worked, up until the point where her aunt's voice came echoing into the atrium. "Rob? What did you mean when you said Harper was…Oh."

That was it, Erin was officially dead. Completely, utterly, and totally dead.

^__^__^

"There are things you need to understand, Erin, before I let you make this choice."

Toshiko's quiet voice echoed in Erin's ears long after the meal they shared. It haunted her all the way back to her room in the hall, and through the hours she spent curled up in the library because the biochem building was still closed down while they cleaned up from whatever it was that had been chewing on the banisters and spraying noxious green liquid all over the glass panels in the atrium.

The stories Tosh had shared were beyond anything Erin could have imagined. It wasn't the existence of Torchwood that was incredible, it was the truth behind the rumours that made no sense. Except at the same time, it made perfect sense. So many little things that she'd brushed off now coalesced into the kind of story science fiction authors could only drool over. Except that every good story requires a tragedy, and her da had fallen into that role a little too effortlessly, dragging the rest of them along with him. Erin didn't care that both her parents had beaten the odds for over two decades, because in the end the odds had caught up with them. She'd lost her mam when her father died, that much was even more clear in light of her aunt's explanations. Now, at least Erin could understand why things had happened - why they had needed to happen the way they did.

And therein lay the heart of the trouble. Along with tales both fantastic and mundane, Aunt Tosh had left her with a choice. It was like something out of The Matrix, only this was overwhelmingly real. Her parents had never wanted her to join Torchwood - on that point, Tosh was emphatically clear. Erin's parents were the exception and not the rule, just as she herself was. Torchwood agents gave up many of the trappings of a normal life in exchange for the secrets they carried.

"They wanted better for you, sweetheart. But you're not a child anymore, so I'm going to let you decide what's best for you. I'll be back in two days, I need your final decision then." Tosh had kissed her forehead before she left, forcing Erin to lean down to allow the ritual that dated back as far as she could remember. "I'll speak to your supervisor about your research; the building's going to be closed down for at least a week until the damage is repaired, so you should have plenty of time to think things over."

It was a simple decision, but one which would impact the rest of her life drastically. The easy option would be to take the pill, wake up having spent two days unconscious following her ill-advised entry to the biochem building while a hazardous chemical was being pumped through the heating system. It was what her parents had wanted for her, and a big part of her wanted to obey their wishes. Which led her to the not-so-easy option: don't take the pill, sign the recruitment forms, and keep her memories. Her mother would respect her wishes, given time, and it might even make things better between them now that Erin could ask all the questions that had been forbidden before. She would know how her father died, and just as importantly she'd know why. She knew she'd die young, Tosh hadn't sugar-coated that aspect of the job. Thirty to thirty-five was the life expectancy of a Torchwood agent, only one in two-hundred made it to retirement-eligible. Only two of the original five who'd been responsible for bringing Torchwood Three back into service were still alive, three out of six if her mother was included in the tally, and Uncle Jack was some weird statistical anomaly.

Erin understood why her parents had made their choices, and even why they'd made certain choices for her that she'd resented for most of her young life, most notably leaving James and Janet to raise her right up until they'd decided to move back to the London area to be closer to her grandmother. But out of everything, it was the possibilities that Torchwood represented that she couldn't turn down. Erin had to believe that her mam would understand the fact that, when the choice had finally come, it wasn't a choice at all.

~ Finis ~

[End Universe]