Donovan woke, blinking his eyes. The overhead lighting in the room was on, but dim. He threw his arm across his face and groaned a bit. He was still groggy and he could feel soreness in his muscles. It was a good sore. He felt a small hand sliding across his belly, followed by a leg draping across his own. He smiled and brought his arm around Miranda, tugging her body closer to him. It had been an incredible evening… and night. He kissed the top of her head and started to trace his fingers up and down her shoulder.

"Good morning," she said, kissing his shoulder.

"Morning," Donovan replied.

He laid there for a few minutes, content. He was in a warm, comfortable bed and had a beautiful woman in his arms. He really didn't want to get up - well, out of bed - at all. He continued to run his fingers along her arm. He still couldn't believe where he was and was beginning to wonder if it had all been a dream.

"Why are you here, Miranda?" he asked, softly.

She turned, propping her chin up on her fist to look at him. Her eyes were sparkling. With a smile, she said, "I live here, Ethan."

He chuckled and then ran the tip of his finger along her cheek. "I mean why do you have this old man in your bed?"

"You wish to debate which of us is older?" she asked, her eyes twinkling in the dim light.

"Don't change the subject," he said, smiling.

"Does the reason matter?" she asked, brushing her fingers through his hair.

"It shouldn't but I'm curious," he said, shrugging as much as he could while he was laying down.

"Would it be crass to answer you honestly and say that I was lonely and desired company?" she said.

"Probably just as crass for me to say those are the reasons I asked in the first place. Horny and lonely… Guess there's worse reasons," he said, laughing. "At least I know I'm not going to catch anything like this."

He carded his fingers through her hair and then a terrifying thought came to him. "Not the only reason we should be safe though. Guess I need to go looking for a pharmacy. You call them chemists here right?"

"It's not necessary, Ethan." Miranda rested her head on Donovan's shoulder. She ran her finger tips through the hair on his chest. "I can't have children."

His arms tightened on her. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not," Miranda said softly. She gave him a rather stern look and said, "And you are being quite presumptuous, assuming there will be another evening…"

"Uhhh…" he said, nervously. Then he smiled. She was teasing him. "You're busting my balls aren't you?"

"Oh, why would I want to do that, when I have such use for them?" Miranda asked, playfully, disappearing under the blankets.

Donovan's breath hitched in his throat as he felt Miranda's lips engulfing him. He gasped, "Jesus…"

Just as he felt himself sliding down Miranda's throat, the lights in the bedroom began to flash. At first Donovan thought it was the flashbulbs of pleasure in behind his closed eyelids but when he opened them… Bloody mother fucking Torchwood… "Miranda… Jesus Christ! Miranda… the… oh my God… the lights… stop… the lights…"

To his surprised, Miranda didn't stop. She only increased her efforts and Donovan felt his toes curling. His eyes rolled into his head. Before he could even form another protest, he was coming into her mouth. He shouted, fisting his hand in the sheets. He blinked a few times, trying to catch his breath.

"Jesus Christ, Miranda…" he gasped. "We don't have time for me to return the favour."

"You can make it up to me tonight," she said, kissing him. He could taste himself on her lips.

"Now, who's making assumptions?" he laughed and then winked at her.

With a smile, she popped her comm unit into her ear from the bedside table and activated it. "Jack? What's going on?… No, you didn't wake me… Could get cleaned up first?… Of course, I'll be up shortly… Sure… Yes… Probably twenty minutes?… Of course."

After she'd dropped the comm unit onto the bedside table, Miranda turned to Donovan and said, grimly, "All of the staff who were exposed except for the nurse who sustained the accidental needle puncture have started showing symptoms… and Stephanie Wilson has died. Jack wants me to collect the body personally."

Donovan closed his eyes. He'd hoped that Miranda's prediction would be wrong, that the Wilson family would survive. Now they had lost their youngest child. He could think of no greater sorrow or tragedy.

"Are you all right, Ethan?" Miranda asked, softly.

She was only five… He nodded, swinging his legs out of the bed. He said, tersely, "I hope you don't mind but I'll be skipping that autopsy."

"Even though evidence points to the fact that the illness is not airborne, Jack still wants the Hub cleared. Only he and I will be inside the Hub during the autopsy as a precaution," Miranda said, standing and walking towards the en suite. "You're welcome to share the shower with me."

Miranda turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. She hadn't even tried to convince Jack to allow her to autopsy Stephanie Wilson with the others in the Hub. Firstly, it would be a difficult thing for the rest of the team on an emotional level. And secondly, since Gwen and Ianto had fully recovered from their hospital stay, Jack had been fiercely overprotective of the mortal team members. The incident was still fresh in their minds.

She'd been doing some inventory of the pharmaceuticals cupboard, when she'd heard Gwen scream. She'd run up the catwalk stairs. The cloud of thick, bright orange dust surrounding Gwen. The former PC had been red faced and wheezing. When Miranda had looked up, Ianto had his face in his elbow and was leaning over the source of the orange spores for the emergency exhaust system. Miranda had made her choice immediately. No one but her knew but if Ianto died, he would revive. Gwen, however, would not.

She'd dragged Gwen down the stairs and administered the medications that had saved her life. Ianto had not been so lucky. The spores had irritated his airways, causing his throat to swell and close. Ianto was unconscious and blue by the time Miranda dragged him from the hothouse. She'd had to perform an emergency tracheotomy, cutting into his throat so that he could breathe. The Welshman still bore the scar. At first, she'd thought about just letting him go but the time hadn't felt right to her and Miranda Ryan had learned to trust her gut.

Jack had demanded an explanation as to why Miranda had not pulled them both to safety immediately. She'd lied of course - telling Jack that she would have been unable to drag them both to safety on her own and that, if she'd succumbed to the spores herself, she couldn't have administered medical care to either of them. She'd told him she'd had to wait for the exhaust system to ventilate the hothouse before she could see to Ianto. Jack had accepted the lies but he'd been overprotective ever since.

As Miranda stepped into the shower stall, she wondered just how much longer Ianto's luck could hold out. She had thought the Welshman was finished but he'd proved more resilient than she'd thought. Donovan stepping into the shower stall with her interrupted her musings.

He immediately backed out of the spray against the tile. "Jesus, Miranda! You trying to land me in the burn ward?!"

"Sorry, Ethan," she said and quickly turned up the cold water. As she soaped herself, she handed a sudsy flannel to Donovan.

He draped it over the stall door handle and asked, "Shampoo?"

Miranda pointed to the bottle on the shelf as she rinsed herself off.

"Thanks… You didn't tell Jack I was down here," he pointed out, portioning some of the shampoo out. Once his hair was soaped, he started scrubbing at his body with the flannel.

"Oh, he'll figure it out the minute we're upstairs, I'm sure. Jack is nothing if not perceptive when it comes to sex," Miranda said. She opened the stall's door and stepped out, reaching for a towel.

"If you don't want the others to know…" Donovan began as dunked his head under the spray to rinse.

"It will be impossible to keep from Jack and, by extension, Ifan. But it doesn't matter to me, either way," Miranda said with a shrug. "So I will leave the choice up to you."

"I'm all for not going out of our way to hide it but I'd rather not shout it out either," Donovan said, stepping out of the shower. "Shit, I don't have any fresh clothes."

"Your room is only downstairs, Ethan," Miranda said. She playfully draped the towel around his waist. "No one comes down here this early in the morning. By the time you get down to your room, you'll be mostly dry. Change and come back upstairs."

Donovan kissed her. He grabbed his clothes off her floor and, after slipping on his shoes, he bolted into the hallway and down the stairs with the towel around his waist. He didn't care what Miranda said, he didn't really want to risk someone catching him practically streaking through the Hub.