A/N: So here's a new chapter. I promised you some Rhys and Andy - well, there's a hell of a lot of Andy in this. I really enjoyed writing his point of view. He's such an unexplored character that I think there's so much you can do with him. I also promised karaoke, and it's less about the songs and more about the effect of them. You only get to see one person sing, in detail. (: Sorry. There is not so much Rhys-POV - it didn't fit with the tone of the chapter, so that'll be a future thing. This is a development chapter more than an eventful one. The real story begins next chapter. Anyways, one last thing; I have another Torchwood fic, which is a collection of poems. Only 3 so far, it's the one called 'Understanding'. I'd love if you guys would tell me what you think, because I'm thinking of dropping the poetry, but I'm not sure. Thanks if you do. Enjoy the chapter!


So there was Gwen Cooper, at first. His partner in arms, for a while, when they were both regular police-constables and nothing more. She was a beautiful woman, but unattainable. Because of the boyfriend; because of Rhys.

Now, it wasn't that Andy didn't like Rhys. He did, truly – Rhys was a decent, solid bloke, and they went to the rugby together from time to time. It was the same easy camaraderie that most men felt towards each other; friendly, but nothing more.

He thought he'd stood a chance with Gwen, despite his budding friendship with Rhys. He wasn't great with words, but when Gwen and he were patrolling, casual banter and jokes, his stomach got a strange light feeling when she looked at him with those big green eyes.

But she married Rhys, and he decided that maybe her friendship was enough. And somehow, it was.

He'd met her team, the Torchwood lot. He was pretty desperate to join up with them, but apparently 'nothing could be done'. She was chosen by them, and he wasn't. Well, he didn't mind so much, but his best mate had gone and buggered off with some special-ops group, leaving him on his own, so he minded a little.

There was the American, Jack Harkness. Andy felt something vaguely resembling admiration for him; any bloke who could look so cool while in a rainy, bloody alley had his respect, to be honest, despite his arrogance. And there was his counterpart, Ianto Jones. Immaculate constantly, almost to the point of irritating Andy. If Ianto wasn't such a decent guy, and if they hadn't kept each other company in the past, when Andy was monitoring a police line and Ianto was clearing up after another Torchwood case, he probably wouldn't have liked Ianto. But he did. And that was fine.

There was the doctor. Owen, his name was. Honestly Andy hadn't given him a lot of thought – his sarcasm was likeable, at least to Andy, but he did think the bloke needed to slow down a bit with the drinking and shagging. Or maybe he was just jealous that he couldn't do that, he was too busy being a policeman. Then Owen did slow down, eventually, but that was only because he was dead. He hadn't been told Owen was dead, but seeing the medic running into the pier and staying underwater for an impossible amount of time, he guessed something was different. Deep down, he just sort of knew. And then Owen was properly dead, literally no more, and despite not really knowing him very well, Andy still felt a strange twinge in his gut when he found out he was gone.

There was Tosh. Smart girl, he guessed, mainly from her wearing glasses and running around with various weird pieces of technology he didn't recognize. She was a beautiful woman, actually – if she wasn't so very Torchwood, he might have asked her out. Oh, and if she didn't send longing glances the medic's way every so often. From time to time, he ran into her in the bookshop, and they exchanged friendly smiles, and chatted for a while about boring things going on in their lives. Honestly, it crushed him when she died, too. Like another bit of sunshine was gone from Cardiff.

He'd gone out with a few girls a few times but never really held a steady girlfriend down. Too busy, too wrapped up in his own life. Maybe he just wasn't ready for a real relationship yet – he was only in his twenties, after all. But one day, when he was down in the estate patrolling, he saw the army pulling up and taking kids.

And he saw Johnny Davies fighting them.

At first he wondered what to do. At first the choice was difficult. But suddenly, it was very clear what Andy's place was in the world at that moment, and he pulled off his police jacket, hat and bulletproof vest, and started helping.

So there was Gwen Cooper, at first. And then there was Daria. Beautiful, demented Daria, sloughing off her doctor's uniform and laying into army men. Daria, battered and bruised but still grinning through her swollen face enough to spark something long buried in his heart.

"Hi," she'd said afterwards, "I'm Daria."

"I'm Andy," he replied, "Daria, can I buy you a drink?"

She was an emergency doctor at the A&E service, from Germany originally. When asked if she liked rugby, she'd given the best reply ever: "Fuck yes."

They'd gotten pretty happily drunk, sitting together watching the news as the children were returned and the government was overthrown. And maybe because the alcohol had numbed his brain, maybe because it had nearly been the end of the world, he asked her if she wanted to go back to his. And maybe for the same reasons, she said yes.

It ended up being clumsy, ripping off clothes and tripping over books, but amazing. Really. And afterwards, lying there with this beautiful woman in his arms, Andy wondered how he'd gotten this lucky – pardon the pun.

And when she was still there in the morning, still sneaking in quips like it was still the night before ("You realize you have to take me on a proper date next time, Andy."), he could only grin. Because maybe the end of the world was okay, as long as Daria stuck around.

That brought him to now. Finding out all at once that she was now a member of Torchwood, and wondering if this was it, for them. They'd been on three dates and ended up in bed every time, and he'd been wondering when his luck would run out. When she would turn into another Gwen Cooper.

Then she asked him to move in with her. And that caught him off-guard, to be honest. Completely. Because isn't the guy meant to ask the girl? Then he realized that their relationship had never followed the typical path, so he smiled.

"Well…it's been a while since Torchwood interfered with my life…so why not?"

Daria smiled that dimpled smile, and put her arm around his waist, squeezing lightly. Andy pressed a kiss into her hair, and hoped that this was the right thing for them.


"You what?!" Jack squeaked, when Daria came into his office, announcing something very serious.

"I told my significant other who I'm working for," she said, rolling her eyes. He didn't prey on that, he'd made her repeat it three times, but it just wasn't sinking in, "You do remember who I'm dating, Jack? Andy Davidson?"

Oh. Right. Him.

"Jack?" Oh, god, here was the other one. Gwen entered his office, "I really don't see why this should be a problem. Rhys knows, so if Andy freaks out, he can talk to him."

Jack laughed, "No offence, Gwen, but he's hardly gonna calm the guy down. Again, no offence. But this is Rhys."

Gwen bristled but carried on regardless, "Plus, Jack, Andy knows about Torchwood. He keeps Ianto company when he's on clean up, and he goes to the rugger with Rhys on the weekends. I'm sure he can cope."

Suddenly, Jack was struck by a brilliant idea. The brilliance of which blinded him completely from seeing the expression on Gwen's face as she recognized the expression on his, "Oh, no, Jack. Not that. Anything but that."

But this was too good an opportunity to pass up. Jack flounced – yes, flounced – from his office, standing on the balcony and looking at his colleagues with a huge, cheese-eating grin. Ianto glanced up, and met his gaze; judging by his look of horror, he could hear what Jack was thinking. Not that he'd need to, he could probably tell from his face.

"Oh, god. Jack, no. Tell me you're not thinking of that."

"Oh yes, Ianto, I most certainly am!"

Running down the stairs, Jack raised his arms above his head, shouting, "I feel a song coming on!" He heard Gwen and Ianto groan, and pouted, "Well, for those new to this tradition, let me explain the loving reactions you see here. Daria has told a civilian about us, and while said civilian already knew about us, he needs induction. Into the secret club of those who know about Torchwood – "

" – composed of thousands within Cardiff," Ianto quipped, with a sigh.

"Tschh. Details, schmetails. So, team…we are having the Torchwood Team Karaoke Party! And as the senior member of the team, I expect all of you – and Andy and Rhys – to perform a song. Because you need to prove yourselves."

Ianto raised his hand. Jack sighed despairingly, "What cutting remark do you have for me now, Ianto?"

"Sir, with all due respect, haven't Gwen and I proven ourselves already?"

"That's what you think, Ianto…that's what you think…" Jack trailed off, with an evil laugh, "Now, everyone get preparing. And wear a costume. It's tonight, at 10. Get it sorted."

And he retreated to his office before the team could object. Ah, sweet power. Sometimes it had its perks.


"Remind me again why we're going along with Harkness' hair-brained scheme, again," Rhys asked Gwen, with a sigh, letting her style his hair into a greasy pompadour. He swore Gwen enjoyed this, or something – she'd picked out their costumes with something akin to mischievous joy. He had nothing against Grease, just the fact that this was the fifth time they'd had to do one of Jack's karaoke evenings during Gwen's tenure at Torchwood, and it was getting old.

"Now, now," she said, with a smile, "Don't complain. You make a very good Danny. At least your costume isn't bloody ironic…"

Rhys snorted, smiling at his wife, "We'll just say we're Danny and Sandy, ten years on. What song are you going to force me to do?"

"Well, it's either gotta be 'Summer Nights', 'You're The One That I Want' or 'All Choked Up'," Gwen grinned, adjusting her blonde wig so that it fit better, and pulling her tight black top over her pronounced bump, "Either way you're gonna have to hold me up, these heels are killing me."

Rhys smiled, and pulled her into a kiss. She was bloody mad, really, but he supposed that was Torchwood, really. At least Andy would be there, poor bugger. Trust him to get involved with a Torchwood girl, too.

The pair pulled apart, and with twin grins headed for their car.


"I can't believe I'm doing this."

Andy stood in front of her, despairing. Not only that, but he was dressed as Christian from Moulin Rouge. It was very romantic, really, as they'd watched in on the TV after their first night together, but he looked so hangdog she couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Come on, Andy. It won't be so bad. Even if you don't know the words to 'Come What May', there's going to be a little screen with them on it," Daria said, taking his hands in hers and flicking back the red hair of her wig, "It's…what's the word? Oh yeah, initiation. Because you're a Torchwood partner."

He smiled wryly, "I like the word 'partner'. More fitting than boyfriend, we're a little past that, aren't we? Oh, don't worry, I know the words. Freakishly good memory, me. I could do 'Elephant Love Medley' if you'd rather."

"I think 'Come What May' is more poetic considering the circumstances we find ourselves in," she laughed, kissing his cheek and laughing at the deep red lip-print left there. When he went to wipe it off, she stopped him, "Leave it. It's appropriate."

Andy sighed, and she itched to smooth out the lines of tension in his forehead with her lips, "I can't believe I'm doing this."

She squeezed his hands, "We're in this together. Come what may."


"I think we're brilliant, frankly," Jack grinned, looking at Ianto smugly. Ianto looked at him sternly, "Better stop grinning like that, Jack. Jones Ianto Jones does not grin like a moron."

So rather than rent costumes, they'd gone for the easy option. Switch clothes and go as each other. Which, actually, had worked out rather well for Jack…they'd had a lot of fun in the process. Sobering up, and checking his hair, Jack grinned again despite himself, "I am beginning to like the look of you in my clothes, Ianto."

Suddenly arms were slipping around his waist and he was sure someone had just pinched his ass.

"I'm sure you don't like me in them as much as you like me out of them," Ianto husked, and Jack leaned back temporarily, before he laughed, looking at them in the mirror.

"My god, the clothes control us. I could've sworn it's usually the other way around."

Ianto grinned, and Jack was startled by how similar it was to his own typical grin, "Well, let's just say I'm getting into character." He ended on a Midwestern accent akin to Jack's own, and Jack turned, putting his hands places they shouldn't really be right now but Ianto liked to too much to complain.

"I've still got our stopwatch," Jack smirked in a Welsh accent.

The sirens of the Hub door opening blared noisily, and Gwen, Rhys, Andy and Daria trailed through. Jack and Ianto took their time detaching themselves from each other, and headed out of his office.

"Well hello kids," Ianto boomed, hands on his hips like Jack, "Don't you all look lovely?"

Jack kept to his role very well; he rolled his eyes minutely before asking in a soft Welsh voice, "Can I get anyone coffee?"

At first no one noticed the change – in fact, Gwen looked as though she was going to ask why they weren't wearing costumes, until she realized her mistake and shrieked, "My God, that's brilliant!"

As if on cue, Charlton walked through the Hub door, dressed somewhat fittingly as Sherlock Holmes. He glanced around, and looked intently at Ianto, before smiling and shaking his head.

"You're mad," he said, and something about the way he said it made Ianto blush.

"Well," Jack said, back to himself despite being in Ianto's clothes, "Shall we get started?"


He made his way over to Ianto after a while, while Gwen and Rhys were singing 'You're The One That I Want' (surprisingly well).

"So has Torchwood always been this talented," Charlton questioned, "or is it just this year?" There was something in Charlton's coy smile that set Ianto's nerve endings tingling. He ignored it.

"Well, I haven't heard you sing, yet," Ianto replied, quirking his lip in a half-smile, "so I don't know, really."

Charlton seemed to mull this over for some time, so Ianto took the time to study him. There was something missing in his gaze, some trace of warmth – not surprising, considering his circumstances. He was a good-looking guy, too, and Ianto felt strangely attached to him already. It was the way he couldn't bring himself to look at guns, let alone use them, and the comforting sound of his voice down the comms when they were out on field work and Charlton was being their eyes.

It made him feel not so freaked out by his life, really. The fact that this guy, transported from years in the past, could adjust, could be normal. It made Ianto wonder if he could get used to his new body and life. Then again, maybe not.

"I'll sing once those two are finished," Charlton said, with a smile, "though I'm not happy about it. I'd like to hear you sing, too, if I have to."

With that, Charlton waved minutely and headed over to the makeshift stage, and made his selection. The first strains of 'Unchained Melody' filtered out of the sound system, and Ianto knew he was beaten. There was something about Charlton's voice that seemed so fitting with the song that he found it very hard to believe anyone could do a better job; no one else would be able to make his chest seize up and his breath catch in his throat the way they did when Charlton started to sing.

Jack had a wonderful voice, and at times the sadness in his singing was so obvious that it made Ianto's heart ache with love and sympathy. But the simple melancholy of Charlton's voice contrasted sharply – there was sadness there, but not sadness at his life as it was. It was like nostalgia for something he'd lost a long time ago – something long buried. Like a child that gets rid of a toy they think they're over but miss when it's gone. But it was not hopeless. Far from it. There was an expression on their technical expert's face that made Ianto smile – he sang the song so hopefully it made him think that maybe he'd like to get to know Charlton a little better. That maybe this was a guy he could be friends with.

He met Jack's gaze across the room, and felt strangely warm under the intensity of his gaze. He wondered what Jack was thinking – not for the first time, Ianto wished Jack would think loudly more often. Jack's mind generally gave him nothing but radio static.

Glancing back at Charlton, he tried to listen for his thoughts, and then thought maybe he didn't have to.


A/N: Muahahaha. Ahem. Sorry.