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Chapter Fifteen: Finding Robert Chase

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Cardiff, Wales (UK):

After the previous day's excitement, no one at the Police Station took any special notice of the blond woman who walked in at nine o'clock in the morning.

Alison looked around finally spotting an officer sitting at a desk. She walked over, "Excuse me?" She asked in a hesitant tone.

The officer looked up, a bored expression on his face.

"I… well," she adjusted the strap of her purse nervously. "I was wondering if you could help me?"

"What's the matter, then?" he asked.

"I'm looking for my… my friend," she said, then changed her mind. "My boyfriend, I mean," she lied, hoping that a girlfriend would be taken more seriously than just a friend. "He moved to Cardiff a little over a week ago and I haven't heard from him," she lied again.

If she told them Robert had called to say everything was fine, they'd say the same thing Foreman had, that everything was fine and she was being silly. But just because Robert said he was fine didn't mean that he really was fine. In fact, she was certain that he wasn't fine. Nothing about their conversation had seemed right to her.

"And I take it you were expecting to hear from him?" the officer inquired in a sceptical tone.

"Of course. He hasn't been in touch with anyone," she tried to sound calm.

She pulled a picture of her and Robert from last year's Christmas party out of her purse and handed it over. "His name is Dr. Robert Chase. He came here to take a job with some Torchwood Institute."

A half dozen or so officers who were in earshot stopped what they were doing and looked over as soon as they heard the word 'Torchwood'. Two of them actually moved closer to the desk so they could hear better.

Alison blinked, startled that her words had gotten that kind of reaction from the officers. Now more than ever she wanted to know what this Torchwood was and why Robert had sounded so strange over the phone the other day.

The officer at the desk handed the picture of her and Robert over to another officer and turned his attention back to the Alison. "Torchwood?" he asked. "You're sure he said Torchwood?"

"Yes. I saw the letter they sent him myself," she insisted. It was becoming apparent that they didn't believe her.

"Didn't Detective Swanson call them in to something recently?" asked one of the officers who had come over to hear what was going on.

"I think so," said another.

"Oi! Janine!" a third called to a female officer standing across the room. "You were on the scene last week with Swanson, weren't you? Aberdine Street, wasn't it? That charred corpse?"

"Right out of the bloody X-Files," the female officer replied, joining the knot of officers who had gathered around Alison. "I've never seen anything so freaky in all my life. Why?"

The man who had called her over handed her the picture. "You see this guy there?" he asked.

Janine nodded, "He came in with the all mighty Torchwood. Why, what's going on?"

"She's his girlfriend," said the guy who had called him over.

"Lucky you," Janine droned, handing the photo back to her.

Alison felt more confused than ever. "I don't understand. Who or what is Torchwood?"

The officers looked at each other and then at her.

Finally one of them gave her a friendly seeming smile, "They handle all the weird stuff, love," he told her.

"Weird stuff?"

"You know… spontaneous human combustion. Aliens," he winked.

The others chuckled. Several pointed out that there was no such things as aliens; several more disagreed.

"Here," the officer at the desk handed her a business card. "That's Detective Swanson's number. Maybe she can help you find your boyfriend."

"Good luck," Janine added, with a sympathetic smile.

Alison stayed just long enough to overhear part of a conversation about Jack Harkness and a breaking and entering incident from a few nights ago…

An hour later, she met with Detective Swanson. An hour after that, she received a phone call in her hotel room from a very polite man with a Welsh accent.

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Wearing jeans and trainers that were stained with blood and bug-guts, a clean, plain white T-shirt and his one remaining clean suit jacket, Bobby walked into the coffee shop where Ianto had told him to meet Alison.

Although he hadn't talked to Jack personally, he had heard him in the background when Ianto called and he knew the Captain wasn't happy. He wasn't happy either.

Then he saw her, sitting there, staring into her cup and he couldn't help the way his heart still skipped several beats. She looked up and saw him and smiled and suddenly couldn't breathe properly either.

With his guts tying themselves into knots, he shoved his hands into his pockets and forced himself to walk at a normal pace over towards her table. Everything inside hurt. But she'd made her choices and he'd made his and just because she was here didn't mean she even wanted him back. He didn't know what it meant.

Her grin broadened as he got to the table. "Robert."

"Awful long way to come for a cup of coffee," he teased.

She laughed, "You know what they say, some things are worth travelling for."

He shrugged. Neither knew quite what to say or do next, so they just stood there, staring at each other, feeling awkward.

Alison broke the silence first, "You're looking good," she told him.

He scoffed, "I haven't had a chance to do laundry since I got here and I drank way too much wine last night."

"Special occasion?"

"Celebrating closing the case. Our burn victims."

She just smiled without pressing him for more information.

"Let me get a cup of coffee," he said. "You need anything while I'm up there?" he noticed that her cup was almost empty.

"I'm fine. Thanks," she shot him a timid smile. He returned it before heading up to the counter to order something.

A few moments later he returned to the table and sat down. He pulled the lid off his coffee to let it cool. "Alison, what are you doing here?" He decided to ask the obvious question and get it out of the way.

"I…" she hesitated. "I was worried about you, Robert."

He gave her an incredulous look. "Worried about me?"

"I know you said you were fine but I just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong."

He blew across the hot liquid in his cup, trying to give himself a few minutes to think. "Everything's fine, Al. I've got a great job, a new flatmate and… and everything's fine," he repeated, not sure who really trying to convince, her or himself.

He was fine, he did love his job and Wendy was a great flatmate. He even had a lunch date with a twenty-something girl from Barry. He blew across his coffee again. He doubted mentioning Rhianna to Alison would make either of them feel better.

She just looked at him with big brown eyes and reached across the table for his hand. "Robert…"

He shook his head, pulling it away, "You should go back home."

"I just got here… Come on, you're not even going to volunteer to show me the sights?" she coaxed in a hopeful tone.

He couldn't meet her gaze, preferring to alternate between looking into his cup and a picture on the wall to the right of her head. "There's not much to see. Besides, my work schedule is pretty hectic."

"I'm here for three days." She shifted so his gaze fell on her instead of the picture. "Maybe we could go out to dinner or something?"

"I really don't think that's a good idea under the circumstances."

She gave him a hurt look, "What circumstances?"

"Alison, you broke up with me, remember?"

"We broke up before and were still friends."

"And we're still friends now," he told her, taking an experimental sip of his coffee. It was finally cool enough to drink. "I just don't think that going out to dinner is a good idea any more."

She frowned, "Why not?"

"Because this time it's different."

She looked down into her empty cup. "I realize I made some mistakes, Robert."

"Don't. Please. Just leave it. Go home."

She ran her hands up and down her cup a moment before meeting his gaze again. "Do I at least get to meet this new boss of yours?"

"Alison…"

"Robert, I'm here for three days. At least say you'll spend a little bit of time with me?" she asked. "If you can't make plans for dinner, how about lunch tomorrow? Or even breakfast," she suggested.

He regarded her a long moment. He knew that look on her face, she wasn't going to give up easily. "All right, fine. We're supposed to go bowling tonight. If nothing comes up at work. If you'd like to come and have a drink with us, I'm sure you'd be welcome."

"Sounds like fun," she nodded.

He wrote down the name of the place they were supposed to meet on a napkin wondering how much he was going to regret this later. He knew exactly how welcome she was really going to be.

"Eight o'clock," he told her. "But… look, I've really got to go."

"I'll see you later," she smiled up at him and he felt his heart melting all over again.

Bobby leant over and kissed her cheek. "It is good to see you," he told her honestly.

"It's good to see you too. I've missed you."

"Me too." He left quickly, before he said anything else.

………………………………………………….

Jack's scowl came as no surprise.

"I just need some time to figure out what I'm going to say," Bobby told him. "Besides, you don't know Alison like I do. She's not going to just leave it alone and go back home."

The older man leant back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest. "There's always Retcon."

Bobby gave him an exasperated look, "So she'd go home and forget the trip? All that means is she'd be back again in a couple of months."

"You realize that the job's been filled," Jack told him.

"I don't want her to stay. I don't even know if she wants to stay. I just need some time to figure this out."

"Fine. You can figure it out while you get on that backlog of autopsies," Jack handed him a stack of folders. "I want you up to speed before Liz leaves next week."

Taking the dismissal for what it was, Bobby tucked the stack of folders under his arm and headed to the medical bay, sorely regretting the amount of wine he'd had to drink last night.

Wendy cast him a sympathetic smile from her desk and he returned it; Werewolves, it seemed, were also susceptible to hangovers.