AN: Torchwood and Doctor Who are not mine – all the characters are RTD's except my OC's…and RTD's a Serious Big Blue Meanie! Don't really know where this one came from – but just go with me here.

Summary: Jack meets two from his past…both almost kill him.

Torchwood: Doppelgangers

Chapter Two: Two Blasts From The Past

The familiar black Torchwood SUV rolled down the gravel road to the pub/inn and stopped. After a few minutes, Jack, Gwen and Martha stepped out of the vehicle and looked over to the inn in the encroaching gloom. Jackson and Mickey remained behind to man the Hub…and because they both hated the country with a passion. Jack smiled at that. Owen… he thought.

'Did you ever think we'd be back here?' Gwen asked as she looked at the inn's new sign, proclaiming it to be 'The Inn At The End'. Jack looked up at the windows of the second floor, then to the sky. Ianto had been badly beaten here, the lead cannibal bastard called it "tenderizing". Jack too looked up at the sign. 'Well, looks like the new people have a sense of humor,' he said as he went to the boot to get everyone's overnight bags.

Ianto's skin was so black and blue it was if he was one giant bruise. Jack took care of him the first few weeks of Ianto's convalescence. He could barely walk to the loo… He shook himself trying to get the thought out of his head.

The door to the inn opened and a figure walked towards them. It was hard to see with the approaching darkness of night and the bright light of the inn blinding them.

'Hello,' a female, slightly New York City American accent greeted them. 'Are you guys Torchwood?'

Jack froze once he saw the woman, his mouth hung slightly open. He was silent and looked as if he'd seen a ghost. 'Yes,' Gwen said immediately, stepping towards the woman and offering her her hand. The woman grasped it firmly and shook. 'I am Field Operative Gwen Williams, the gentleman is Captain Jack Harkness, our Director and this is our medic, Martha Jones.'

'We weren't expected you all 'til tomorrow, but no worries. I can have three rooms for you in no time. Come on in – we have good food and the liquor ain't nothing to sneeze at neither, if you're interested,' the woman continued good naturedly. 'Name's Miriam Estrella Gabriel – but just call me MEG. The boys are waiting inside – let's all get in. Too damn cold out here for me.'

The pub was busy, so different from the last time Gwen mused. 'Brynnblaidd constabulary has put out the call far and wide. Fifteen experienced spelunkers – five or six moderate climbers. Looks like a decent crew. We're going at four different locations, the caves and crevasses may be connected, you never know. And to beat all, they put me in charge for some odd reason,' Meg said, smiling brightly. She went to a small podium and grabbed three sets of keys pegged into its underside. 'Rooms 7, 8 and 9. Each room's got a water closet with a shower, kind of tight but I'm sure you guys have had worse.'

'Well, from what we were told, you are the most experienced climber in these parts,' Martha interjected. 'You climbed Mount Everest!'

'Climbed…but never got to the summit. Hypoxia – blood in my lungs. Ended up getting a first class trip down in a med chopper and six weeks in an iron lung. Tried it again 2 years later – nasty weather set it – we aborted before we'd all end up buried on the damn thing. Thank God no frostbite – but I did have a problem holding things for weeks after,' Meg said, still smiling.

'How about the time you climbed K-2 with Tad?' A man said from behind the bar. 'Ifan, take over for me, yeah?' he yelled towards the back as he strode over to the group.

'Ah…my triumph,' she said, looping her arm around his waist. 'This fine gentleman is Ambrose Jeffries. He and his brother are family to two of the victims; their parents. Malcolm and Emily Jeffries. They were the dearest friends I had on this planet. Mal and Emmie were free spirits; I was basically damage control for those two. They bought the place in 2000. Mal rang me in New York, blathering about how wonderful the country air and quiet were, blah, blah, blah. I'm a city girl at heart. Don't get me wrong; being on top of the world, where you can almost see the separation of our atmosphere and the stars above is awe inspiring…but give me Times Square and Piccadilly Circus any other day of the week.'

'Besides,' said Ambrose quietly. 'You might have been turned into stew.'

Meg thumped him in his stomach with her fist. 'Be careful what you say – loose lips destroy emotional ships around here.' She then turned to the group. 'Ifan, Ambrose's younger brother, still has a hard time dealing with everything.'

'We understand,' Jack said, suddenly finding his voice. 'You said you were from the city. New York?'

'Yeah – My mom's parents were from Spain. Decided to boogie out after WWII. They survived the Civil War and Franco and the Nazis – and then decided they'd had enough. My mom was born about two, maybe three years later – she met a guy and they had me at the close of the sixties,' Meg explained as she disentangled herself from the young man and pointed the group up the steps. 'Might as well get settled in. Dinner tonight is chicken stew with vegetables and rice and red kidney beans on the side – a specialty of mine. Descent won't be until day after tomorrow – but it'll give you all time to get acquainted with the data the locals and I have been able to drum up.'

'Thank you,' Gwen said as they went up the steps. Jack had a sort of dreamy look on his face. Both Gwen and Martha cornered him on the staircase landing. 'Are you okay, Jack?' Gwen asked.

The faraway gaze left his eyes and he focused on the two women before him. 'Yeah – Meg's grandma. I knew her. Melina Rosado was her name. Meg is her spitting image. Meg's middle name is 'estrella'. I used to call Lina my guiding star…that is what her middle name means. 'Star',' Jack said sadly as he held his hand out for a key. 'Let's get this stowed and get some chow…I'm famished.'

~~TWTWTW~~

When the three came down the steps, Meg waved them over to a large round table. 'You sit – I have to help the boys feed the masses. Is beer okay for everyone? Or would you rather something else?'

'Brains for me,' Gwen answered.

'Same here,' Jack and Martha chorused.

'Cool,' Meg said, writing it on her notepad. 'Tonight's special okay? Ifan did put together a vegetarian version for those put off meat at the moment.'

'No,' Jack answered. 'I think we're okay,' he said looking to the two women. They both nodded their approval.

'Great!' Meg said, putting her pad away. 'Recipe is my grandma's. Hope you enjoy!'

Jack watched as she trotted to another table where some tourists spilled a few lagers and were calling for help and napkins. He smiled at hearing her merry laughter and suggestion that the group get to bed before they passed out at the table. 'God,' he breathed. 'She is so much like her grandmother.'

'Was she before or after Estelle?' Gwen asked. Jack smirked.

'Before – a few months. And after. Torchwood and the RAF sent me on a mission to try and help the rebels so that Franco would stay out of the war. It worked…but by 1946, Lina couldn't deal anymore. She was so broken. Rafael was a good man for her. He knew some of the horrors she faced. They met up with me in London before they boarded a ship for America,' Jack sighed then. Ianto… he shook his head. 'Guess it worked out for her in the end.'

Meg, Ambrose and a third man came out with their food and drink and set it before them. 'If you want seconds, there's more than enough left. Meg made enough for a bloody army,' a voice Jack, Martha and Gwen never thought they'd hear again. The blood in Jack's face drained away as he looked towards the newcomer. Other than the fact that his hair was longer and he had a beard – he was the spitting image of… 'Ian...Ianto?' Jack whispered.

'No,' the young man said, smiling slightly. 'Same thing happened a few months ago when I was in Cardiff.' He turned to Meg. 'I told you we should have gone to London. Apparently everyone in that damn town thinks I'm someone else.'

'This ray of sunshine is Ifan Jeffries,' Meg said, introducing him to the group. 'Who's Ianto by the way? The poor woman that accosted Ifan in town cried like a little girl and ran away after apologizing profusely once we explained he wasn't this… Ianto.'

Jack turned his head down and went silent. Gwen and Martha put their hands on his in comfort and support. Martha turned to Meg and Ifan. 'He was a co-worker of ours. He was one of those killed in Thames House by the 456.'

Meg and Ifan visibly paled. 'And that woman….is she related to him?' Ifan asked.

Gwen nodded. 'His sister – her name is Rhiannon. She called me and told me about her encounter with you,' she said, nodding towards Ifan. 'I went over and comforted her as best I could.'

'That was what Mam and Tad said they'd name a girl if they ever had one. I am so sorry for your loss,' Ifan said, leaning towards them all. 'I'll…ah…go check on the pudding,' he finished, practically running out of the room towards the kitchen. Meg looked to the group.

'Best go check on him,' she said, then turned in the direction the young man had fled.

Ambrose smiled at the group, then took an empty chair and sat with them. 'Ifan…he was in Oxford when that nasty business happened. He was working on his doctorate degree -.'

'Doctorate?!' Jack asked, incredulously. 'How old is he? Twenty-five? Six?'

'Damn his baby face. He's 33,' Ambrose answered. 'Ifan is a genius. He has a perfect eidetic memory. His I.Q. was measured at 195, but Mam and Tad always believed it was higher. He's rubbish at tests.'

'What's his doctorate in?' Martha asked.

'Quantum Temporal Physics in relation to Possible Time Travel,' Meg said, returning with two beers. She handed one to Ambrose. 'Kelly's on the phone,' she said to him. Ambrose sighed and nodded to the group as he rose from the chair. Meg smiled as she took the chair Ambrose just vacated. 'His Ole Ball and Chain. I swear, she's got to have him on the world's shortest leash,' she finished as she took a swig of her beer.

'What about you?' Jack asked. 'Why are you here instead of the city?'

'Well, Mal made me owner of the place – the boys co-own with me. I'm a bit of a rolling stone – I guess Mal and Emmie figured I needed a place to grow roots, call home. Have a flat in London, a nice condo in Manhattan's West Side and I travel extensively. The main reason I keep this place is Ifan. The cities are a bit too chaotic for him…he sometimes has difficultly with crowds. I was thinking of getting a cottage in Oxford when this cannibal stuff went down. Poor thing cried for days…he's such an academic! Crazy crap throws his whole world outta kilter.'

'Are you and he…?' Gwen left the question open; she felt it was a little too personal but couldn't stop from asking.

'Yeah – we're a couple. Took him two years of pursuing me…but the bastard won in the end. I am older that him…by ten years. But I guess he likes May-December romances,' here she gave them a smile that was anything but demure. 'And he's great…in more ways than one. I'm blessed.'

'Talking about me again?' Ifan asked as he came through with apple crumble for everyone. 'Ambrose talking to The Warden?' he asked when he saw his brother wasn't at the table. Jack almost spit up his beer.

'Yeah,' Meg answered. 'You are so mean…that makes you even cuter, I hope you know.'

Ifan rolled his eyes. God, just like Ianto… Jack thought. 'Control yourself, you insatiable wonton woman,' he deadpanned. Gwen, Martha and Meg all spit their beer out and began laughing.

'I swear he times those verbal gems,' Meg complained as she stood up and kissed him on his cheek. 'Well, I'm off to bed. Just dump your plates in the tub on the bar – we'll get them in the morning. Breakfast's at 8 sharp. I'll take you to the site after.' She then gave the group an appraising look. 'I'm gonna assume the RAF poster boy is the only one among you with any kind of harness/jump training?' Everyone nodded. 'Okay, Captain – you'll be the extra on my team day after. The ladies will stay topside with Ifan. He's my backup.'

'Are you sure you couldn't use a medic?' Martha asked.

Meg shook her head. 'We've got five with EMT training; drop's not that far down – 1500 feet from what we've been told. Provided no one rips open a major artery, we should be able to get them up topside within ten minutes. I need people with experience, Miss Jones. And I've not the time to train you to my specs. Sorry, but your feet stay planted on Terra Firma.' She then looked to Ifan. 'See you in a bit, trouble maker,' she said softly, kissing him lightly on his lips and then she walked away. Jack looked longingly after her as she went up the stairs.

Ifan noticed the look Jack gave Meg, then stepped into his line of sight. Jack understood that look all too well – it was the look one man gave another when the interloper was stepping into claimed territory. Jack flashed him his standard Harkness grin; Ifan then stepped back.

'I'm off to bed. Good night all. And again, I am so sorry for your loss,' he said softly as he took their empty beer bottles. 'Any seconds before I lock up?' Jack nodded.

'Beers and water?' he asked. Ifan nodded as he went towards the kitchen. Gwen then turned to Jack.

'He isn't Ianto,' she cautioned. 'She isn't Melina - and he's with her. Let them both be, Jack.'

He nodded as the second cutest Welshman Jack had ever seen brought their drinks and cleared their used dishes. 'Night all,' Ifan said as he left.

Jack couldn't help but stare at his arse as he walked towards the bar, then up the stairs and away.

AN: Hope this whets your appetite for more. Next chapter: Jack gets into it with both doppelgangers; they both give him pieces of their mind as he learns more about both of them. The climb down the crevasse reveals more than just bones – and Meg and Ifan's lives change forever.