Author note: Uber-jealousy! Galadriel1010 actually met Gareth David-Lloyd! Meanwhile I am scaring myself with just how easy Captain Hart is personify. I'm also getting over my swiney flu and utterly dreading results day on Thursday, woop-de-doop!

...when did my author note become my blog? Read on, minions! Read on!

Part Six: Full of Something

Jack Harkness sat behind his desk, glaring at his former partner. John Hart just smiled back. "What's the deal with her, then? You invite me up here to explain and then pftoom nothing. You always were good at long silences, Jackie. Drove me mad."

Jack continued to glare.

"If I said I was sorry, how about that?"

"Sorry for what, exactly?" Jack said. "There are a great deal of things you could be apologising about."

Hart whistled. "Someone's holding a grudge, freeyow." He slid a bit lower into his chair, crossing one leg over the other. "You know you only had to mention it, we could have talked this over a long time ago."

The other man blinked, breathing out a sigh that seemed weighted by immeasurable years.

"Come on, Jack, stop it," Hart whined. "Please? Pretty please? Do I have to beg? You always liked me begging, as I recall."

Jack ran a hand through his hair, exasperated.

"Fine. Fine. If you're going to be like that. Just shut me out; it's nothing new!"

Slowly, Jack said, "John..."

"Oh, he remembers my name! What a bonus!"

***

Tiffany, Tosh and Owen watched – well, attempted to watch; the blinds surrounding Jack's office were half drawn – the scene unfold. Tiffany was wide eyed, Tosh was pacing and Owen was—

Toshiko peered at him. "Owen, what are you doing?"

"Looking for bug spray," Owen replied, riffling through desk drawers. "Can't seem to find any that'd work on overcompensating 51st century prats, though."

"I thought John was the problem here, not Jack," Tiffany said, grinning. Owen chuckled.

***

"And another thing! You always thought—"

"John, seriously, stop."

Hart leaned back from the desk where he had been attempting to tower over Jack. "Are you going to say something to me beyond 'John', 'seriously' and 'stop'?"

"Yes," Jack said.

"Really?"

"No."

"Jaaaaaaaaaack," Hart griped.

"Well you still haven't told me what you're even doing here; how am I supposed to react?"

Hart jumped up onto the desk, sitting and then reclining backward, leaning on one elbow to stare across at Jack. "I can't just drop in like old times?" He reached out a hand, brushed his fingers over Jack's collar. "All those... good... old times."

Jack's eyes became weary and he gently pushed Hart's hand away. "Perhaps. But I still think you have an ulterior motive. Practically everything you ever did had an ulterior motive."

Hart opened his mouth to protest; Jack raised an eyebrow and Hart shrugged. "Fair point. Okay, fine, I'll come clean."

At the very least, Jack seemed doubtful.

"Hey, don't look at me like that!" the other man protested.

"Like what?"

"Like that! Like I've been caught with my hands, legs and other appendages in multiple cookie jars."

"That was a fun night," Jack said, tilting his head and reminiscing.

Hart laughed. "It certainly was." He sat back up and lifted his wrist, showing the strap. "Real reason for coming here?"

Jack nodded.

"I got curious. There were these really weird readings coming from right around here." Hart fiddled with a few buttons, making a flickering graph appear. "I just figured I'd drop in and take a look."

Jack was sceptical. "At gunpoint?"

"She's alright, isn't she? No lasting damage done. Give her a cup of... whatever it is you drink around here and she'll be right as rain."

Something occurred to Jack. "Let me have a closer look at those readings."

"Sure thing, just make sure you— Ow!" Hart yelped as Jack grabbed his wrist, yanking it close so he could see. "Do I have to say bedside manners again— Ow! Fine, fine, yeah, ouch, shut up, John, take a hint, John."

"Hmm," said Jack. "This explains a lot."

"It does? Then what caused it?"

Jack looked up from the strap, stood and walked to the wall length windows. He pointed down into the Hub proper. "She did."

***

"I don't like the look of that," Tiffany said, resisting the urge to flinch back from Jack's outstretched hand. Hart came to join him at the glass and they both peered at her. She turned away, trying not to feel self-conscious and failing miserably.

"Tiffany?" Jack called, sticking his head out of the office door. "Come up here a sec?"

"If he calls you Eye-candy, you have my permission to slap him, by the way," Ianto said as she walked away from the rest of the team and began the short climb to Jack's office. Tiffany walked up the steps, trying not to think about how over-used the whole 'Eye-candy' thing was in fan-fiction...

She reached the top and pushed the door open, hearing Jack say, "Can we try for a polite introduction this time?"

Hart stuck his hands in his pockets and pulled a face. "If you insist."

"I do."

Sighing, Hart said, "John Hart, pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," Tiffany replied, "I think."

Jack pointed to the small sofa, indicating Tiffany should sit. Hart sat down next to her, a little too close for comfort. Tiffany tried her best not to edge away, Hart gave her his most predatorial grin and she rolled her eyes at him. "Don't you ever get bored of doing that?"

"Now that you mention it, no, no I don't."

"John, behave," Jack said. "Please?"

"Alright," Hart said, shifting away so that he was no longer making bodily contact with Tiffany, "but only 'cause you asked so nicely." Hart turned to face her at the end of the sofa. "So, Tiffany, Jack tells me you've got some freaky weird Rift thing going on?"

"Did he put it like that?"

Jack, safe behind his desk, shrugged.

"Did you mention the..." Tiffany paused, trying to think how to phrase it and settling lamely for: "The, er, other thing?"

"Other thing?" Hart looked from one face to the other. "What 'other' thing?"

"The fact that I think you're all fictional characters," she said bluntly.

Hart's expression did not change, in that it was still one of bemused surprise.

"No," Jack said. "I hadn't quite gotten that far..."

"Hmm."

"Fictional?" Hart repeated.

"Yes. A television series in fact, called Torchwood."

Hart put one hand on his hip and brought his other arm up, leaning on the top of the couch. Staring at Tiffany, he said, "Oh Jackie, you do know how to pick 'em..."

"I'm serious. Where I live, Torchwood is a television series and you lot are all actors."

Something occurred to Hart. "So this show is about Torchwood and what goes on here?"

Surprised that he seemed to be so accepting, Tiffany said, "Well, yes."

Hart's lips twisted. "You're obviously mad," he said. Tiffany scowled. "But I'm curious: what about me, where do I fit in?"

Tiffany drew a blank. "Err..."

"I do fit in, right?"

Tiffany started to chew her lip, looking at the ceiling. "You're not in the first series..."

Jack chuckled.

Hart frowned. "But he is?"

"Well, he's sort of in charge, you know, so he's in every episode..."

"Is there a second series?" Hart asked.

"Yes."

"And how many am I in of that?"

Tiffany only just stopped herself saying 'three', because she couldn't tell him that. "One," she said, "so far."

"One," Hart repeated.

"One," Tiffany confirmed.

Jack, being far too amused by the proceedings, continued to chuckle in a throaty way. "The lady said one, accept it John. Ooh, hey, that rhymed."

"I still say you're mad, but how can I only be in one? I'm brilliant! I should have my own show!"

The idea had definite approval in Tiffany's head but she tried not to let it show on her face; Hart was bigheaded enough as it was. "Perhaps. Maybe that'll happen now that—" Again, and just in time, Tiffany stopped herself.

"Now that...?" Hart probed.

Tiffany smiled a winning smile and continued, "Now that you mention it."

From the look on Jack's face, he could tell there was something she was hiding. Tiffany avoided his stare.

"Let me get this straight," Hart said. "You are covered in Rift energy, so you've obviously come from somewhere, and in that dimension, or whatever, we are all fictional characters?"

"Pretty much," said Tiffany. "Although I'm still trying to pass all this off as a bad dream." Just like Children of Earth, Tiffany's mind finished.

"A bad dream? With me in it? Impossible."

"You are so full of yourself, John," the other man commented.

"It's better than being full of you," Hart returned, "and I should know."