Nora woke the next morning with a warm body next to her in bed that wasn't Miranda. It was Alvin. She stretched and rolled, peering over Alvin's furry back to see if Miranda was on the other side. She was alone in the room. The bedroom door was open and Nora could hear someone puttering in the kitchen. Smiling, she got up and put on her dressing gown then padded barefoot towards the kitchen. Miranda was dressed in her clothes from the day before and was stirring the porridge on the stove. There was a mug of tea steeping on the counter.

She crossed the kitchen and put her arms around Miranda's waist from behind.

"Bore da," she said, kissing Miranda's neck.

"Bore da," Miranda said, turning to kiss Nora properly. "I hope you don't mind. I started breakfast and made you some tea. I also walked Alvin but I haven't fed him. I didn't know where his food was."

"Why would I mind? Amazing sex, breakfast and you took care of my dog? Every girl's dream, that is!" Nora said with a smile. "His food is under here. He only gets one scoop. The vet says he's too fat."

She opened one of the cupboards and Alvin immediately came bolting into the room, obediently sitting down next to his food bowl. Nora measured out a single scoop of the food and dropped it into the bowl and Alvin started to eat.

Nora crossed over to Miranda, wrapping her arm around the other woman's waist again. A sharp bark from Alvin caused both women to turn. The dog looked at his bowl and then back up at them.

"That's all you're getting so there's no use complaining," Nora said to him sternly and then turned back to bury her face in the back of Miranda's neck. "I had a wonderful time last night, Miranda."

"So did I," Miranda said with a smile, squeezing Nora's hand.

Nora got a spoon to stir her tea and stood there sipping it as Miranda stirred their breakfast at the stove.

"You know I always wondered why your Welsh was so perfect, now I guess I know. How long have you been in Wales?"

"A bit," Miranda said.

Nora raised an eyebrow and pointed her spoon at Miranda. There was none of the furstration in her voice from last night but her voice was still firm. "Straight answer, Miranda."

"Sorry, ambiguity is a bit of a reflex by now," she said with a shake of her head. "This time I've been here since the turn of the millennium."

"This time?" Nora asked.

Miranda nodded, stirring the porridge again.

"I'm prying aren't I?" Nora asked.

"It's not that you're prying, Nora. I've lived a long time. You ask me how long I've lived in Wales but answering that question can take all day," Miranda said with a smile, ladling out porridge into some bowls. She handed one to Nora, who took it over to the small dining table and sat down. Miranda took the seat opposite and stirred some cream and sugar into the porridge.

"Can I ask you something else?"

Miranda nodded, her mouth full of porridge.

"Why the Irish accent?" Nora asked, curious. "Obviously, you're not Irish."

"A random choice," she said, shrugging again. It was a half truth. When Miranda had been using the name Wilhelmina Cho, she was a seamstress in Ireland. She had visited Cardiff for a brief holiday when she'd met and married Jack. It was the accent that Jack was familiar with so whenever she returned to Torchwood, Miranda donned the Irish accent like a piece of clothing. In truth, Miranda was capable of imitating a wide range of English language accents. With a smile, Miranda switched her voice to a Welsh accent, "But if you prefer the Welsh…"

Nora's eyes widened and she laughed. "Oh, that is creepy! Don't do that again."

Miranda smiled and said, "Hey this accent took me years to perfect! It was the hardest one!"

"Creepy! Stop it!" Nora said, laughing.

"Any other questions?" Miranda asked, her eyes sparkling with laughter. "Perhaps you'd like to compile a list?"

"A list is probably a bit much." Nora laughed and shook her head. "When did you learn English?"

Miranda winced a little. That line of questions was going to lead to straight to Adaf Terfel. "1536."

Nora's eyes widened. "The Tudor era?"

Miranda nodded.

"Why were you in England then?" Nora asked, curious.

Miranda shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She didn't want to tell Nora the truth.

"Another complicated answer?" Nora asked with a smile.

"More an extremely unpleasant one," Miranda said. "I was brought here against my will. Please ask no more of it, Nora."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories," Nora said, laying her hand on Miranda's.

"It's fine," Miranda said as she squeezed Nora's hand.

"Can I ask you one more thing?"

Miranda nodded as she scraped the last of the porridge from her bowl.

"You said you were married to a man in 1920. When was the time before that?"

"1579," Miranda whispered, her eyes immediately started to shine with tears. "Her name was Isabetta."

Nora immediately regretted asking the question. She stood up and put her arms around Miranda. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

Miranda pulled back from Nora's embrace with a shake of her head. "It's fine, Nora. I still miss her very much. We had very little time together."

"What happened to her?"

"Tuberculosis," Miranda said.

"How did you have a relationship with a woman in the sixteenth century?" Nora asked, collecting the dirty dishes.

"Very carefully," Miranda said as she put the cream and the sugar away. "Homosexuality was illegal. We could have been imprisoned or even executed. There were few Asiatic people in Europe at the time. I passed myself off as her servant."

No sooner had Nora loaded the dishes into the dishwasher than Miranda's mobile rang. She uttered an ancient curse and answered the call. "Ryan… That would be because I'm not at the Hub… None of your goddamned business, Harkness!… Thirty minutes, at least… Fine… I'll see you in a bit… No, Jack… I said no, Jack…"

It was with a shake of her head that Miranda disconnected the call.

"Was that that man in the coat from the night we went to the concert? Is he your boss?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, Nora, I have to go."

"You're not in trouble are you?" Nora asked, looking at the clock. "You're not late?"

"No, Jack is just being… Jack," Miranda said, walking to retrieve her boots from by the door.

"Those are your things from yesterday. Why don't you borrow some of my clothes?"

"I'll change clothes before I start work," she said, sitting down onto the sofa.

"Is your flat far?" Nora asked.

"I don't have a flat," Miranda said as she laced up her boot.

"You don't have a flat? Where do you live?"

"I live in the Torchwood base."

"Well I guess we're never staying over at yours," Nora said with a laugh.

"Probably not," Miranda said also laughing.

"Why do you live on the base?"

"When I started working for Torchwood, it was only supposed to be temporary. At the time, it made the most sense," Miranda replied, lacing her other boot.

Once the boot was laced, Miranda stood up and walked over to Nora where she was standing in the kitchen. She pressed her body into hers, kissing her deeply.

"Don't do that or you'll never get to work," Nora said when they'd broken apart.

"I hope I can see you again soon," Miranda said into Nora's ear, gently nibbling the lobe. "I'm sorry, I have to go Nora."

Miranda pulled away and turned to reluctantly head for the door.

"Stop being sorry, Cariad," Nora said with a slight eye roll.

Miranda heard the endearment and stopped in her tracks. Nora looked embarrassed and uncharacteristically tried to backpedal. "Sorry, slip of the tongue…"

"Don't. Don't take it back," Miranda said, cupping Nora's face. "If I didn't love you, I wouldn't have told you everything."

Nora looked straight into Miranda's eyes and said softly, "Rwy'n dy garu di."

"I love you too, Nora."

Miranda desperately wanted to sweep Nora up off her feet, whisk her back into bed so she could show her but Torchwood was calling her. Bloody Torchwood…