Sorry, more gloom. She has to hit the bottom before she can start climbing out.

"So, Esther," Jack said brightly, "Maybe you could give me a hand with those reports instead?"

"Sure, Jack," Esther agreed. It was truly amazing how the blonde woman managed to use so many 'look at me' gestures while still achieving that expression of innocence.

"I don't have plans for tonight," Esther continued. "And you did hire me for my secretarial skills, didn't you?"

About as much as he hired Ianto for his archiving skills,Gwen thought bitterly, as the door clicked shut behind her. Which was unfair, but still held a grain of truth. Esther was a perfectly competent PA, and Ianto had amazing archiving skills, amongst his other brilliance. But Gwen knew the story of how Ianto had convinced Jack to hire him, and it wasn't his brain that tipped the balance.

Jack hadn't wanted to hire Gwen, either. It was just a twist of fate that forced his hand. A random string of events leading to death and resurrection and death again. Events that created a vacancy in Torchwood. And she'd been conveniently on the spot, with an inconveniently restored memory.

Fate was a funny thing. Karma wasn't. Not this sort, at least. Not when you were on the receiving end.

-XXX-

Gwen's key turned in the lock and the door swung open, resulting in the usual feeling of relief. For some reason, she still half-expected Rhys to change the locks.

"Mummy!"

Anwen flung herself into Gwen's arms as though she hadn't seen her for a week. Mind you, that's probably how it felt when you were four. Those brief sleepy hellos and goodbyes on her way out in the mornings didn't qualify as 'quality time.' And those were the good days. Gwen was usually gone by the time her daughter awoke, and often didn't get home until she was asleep. Not today, though. Not on Wednesdays. Wednesday was Rhys' night to do as he liked and Gwen's night to be with Anwen.

Gwen held her daughter tightly, with her face snuggled into the soft dark curls. "I missed you sweetheart," she whispered.

"I missed you, too, Mummy," Anwen answered, wriggling out of the embrace. "Can we have popcorn tonight?"

Gwen flicked an enquiring glance at Rhys over her daughter's shoulder, received the nod, and stifled the pain of not being her child's primary caregiver.

"Yes, darling, we can. And a Disney movie? You pick."

Anwen squealed with delight and ran off to the DVD cabinet.

Gwen and Rhys smiled tentatively at each other in the hallway.

"It's mermaids this week," Rhys commented. "You'll have dancing fishes in your dreams."

Gwen smiled. "I don't mind. The Disney version's much nicer than the real thing."

"You'd know," Rhys agreed, looking away pointedly.

He didn't ask about Torchwood anymore. He didn't want to know. Gwen knew he blamed Torchwood for their breakup, and he was probably right, to a point.

"You look nice," Gwen said, in an effort to break the awkward silence. Everything they'd said, and all they'd left unsaid, made conversation a minefield neither knew how to navigate. But they always made the effort, for Anwen's sake if not for their own. "Still got the 'pulling top' I see." She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.

Rhys rubbed his hands down the sides of his shirt before crossing them defensively. "You can't blame me, Gwen," he said hoarsely.

"I don't," Gwen answered hurriedly, wanting to hug him and knowing she'd lost the right. "I don't Rhys, really. How could I? You're….you've been marvelous about this."

And he had. He'd been brilliant through the whole nightmare of their breakup. Telling him about Jack was hard enough, but to make a bad night worse, her admission triggered the memory of her confessing to the affair with Owen. He'd had a double betrayal to deal with, and he'd handled it with far more strength than she'd managed and less anger than she'd deserved.

When the dust settled, Rhys showed his big heart yet again, and allowed her to move back in. They lived separate lives under the same roof, but all the awkward moments were worth it just to be in the same house as her daughter. Gwen had a room of her own, with its own bathroom and its own exit via the balcony. She saw so much more of Anwen than would have been possible if she'd lived anywhere else. Morning greetings, however fleeting, being able to go to her daughter when she had a nightmare, those were precious moments Gwen would be missing if not for Rhys' generosity.

He was an amazing man. A steady, safe haven in a storm. She'd been blinded by the lighthouse and it wasn't Rhys' fault if she crashed against the rocks.

Rhys shuffled his feet. "Makes Anwen happy," he muttered. "And no sense in you paying rent on a place you'd hardly use." He looked up suddenly. Gwen's breath caught, as she realized one of the 'unsaid' was about to raise its head, too. "I'd have expected you to be living with him by now." No need to ask who 'he' was.

Gwen tried to answer casually, but her throat knotted, and she could feel the burn of blood rushing to her cheeks. "He lives in the Hub," she said stiffly.

Some things never changed. Jack insisted on having a room with an on-suite included in the design of the New Hub. The blueprints designated the area as the 'on-call residence,' but it was Jack's room, all the same.

Gwen shared it sometimes, but it wasn't hers. Nor were the items she sometimes found when she changed the sheets or tidied the bathroom. They weren't Jack's either.

"I don't fancy being there twenty-four hours a day," Gwen added. A sop to her pride. Jack had never asked her to move in, or spoken about getting a place together. He'd moved in with Ianto, she remembered, just a few months before the 456 arrived. Gwen supposed she'd thought he'd do the same with her, but then, she didn't have anywhere all set up for him to swan into. Choosing a place together was far too domestic for Jack. It might actually imply a commitment. To be fair, just for the mental exercise of it, he hadn't offered commitment, never even implied it was an option. Jack considered it a huge concession that he never went beyond flirting with anyone else when she was available, but somehow Gwen failed to be humbled by the honor.

A small hand tugged on hers. Gwen looked down with a smile she didn't need to force. "Yes, sweetheart?"

"I've chosen the movie. Can we make popcorn now?"

"Give Daddy a kiss, first?" Rhys asked, stooping down.

Gwen watched the embrace with her heart in her throat. Once, she'd have been tugged into that hug, Rhys sturdy arms encircling both of them, a sloppy baby kiss on one cheek, firm warm lips against the other.

Rhys straightened up. Anwen scampered to the kitchen.

"I'll be off then," Rhys announced. Gwen hoped he couldn't see the tears in her eyes.

But of course he could. He paused at the door, turned his head, his face showing his pain. "I hope it's worth all this, Gwennie. I really do."

The door shut behind him before she could answer.

It's not, Rhys. It really isn't.

I think there are two chapters left. I could be wrong…..Thanks for reading.