"Hello my name is Lois Habiba. How may I help you?" The young woman with curled hair stared welcomingly at the two guests who had stepped foot into the building. She was dressed nicely, albeit the complete black attire. Something at once put Rex in unease and Esther could sense it.

"We're here to see the Prime Minister," Rex responded, immediately taking charge.

"Appointment only."

"CIA," the man swiftly countered.

"You'll have to wait. He's currently seeing someone right now." Lois smiled again. Rex might have believed the professional front but Esther didn't. She kept quiet though, starting to finger the necklace.

"I don't think ya understand," the male operative kept pushing. "Urgent." He popped the last consonant.

"Oh I'm sure it is," Lois replied sarcastically. "I mean PM? CIA? But you're still human. Means you have to sit and wait. Like the rest of us."

"It's just a wait," Esther whispered. "Have a little patience at least."

Lois straightened the files on her desk."The two of you married?"

"No!" they both replied earnestly.

Lois nodded and paid them no more attention.

"They came today," Gwen explained to Rhys. "Lois rang."

"You think they'll catch up to us?"

"I don't know Rhys," she answered exasperatedly. "The server has been down for three years. It's impossible to hack in, so Tosh said."

"You know what I didn't get… That one woman, she said she recorded the PM saying stuff and then he stepped down you know? Where did all that video go?"

"I don't know Rhys. I don't know. Lost maybe. Deleted. Government possessed."

"Why can't you guys just go out and say the truth?" Rhys demanded for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"I've told you honey," Gwen replied softly.

"Yeah," Rhys nodded, taking his wife into an embrace. "We know."

Night fell and the woman with the short black hair dug into the cupboard for a microwave meal. Most of the times she cooked. Concentrating on chopping or peeling just perfectly took her mind off things. She had tried seeing people, but it just felt different. She'd been introduced by friends to other people before, but now… Now others treated like a fragile porcelain doll. Just like the one her father gave her. Her mother had put it up on the shelf, high, high up. She wasn't allowed to touch, just look.

The microwave oven beeped. It had already been two minutes. Pouring herself some water, she sat herself down in the living room where the TV was. Her flat seemed empty. Then again it was always this empty; she just wasn't this alone before.

The TV dinner tray sat forgotten on the coffee table while the television droned on and on about the news. The woman had fallen asleep, a restless sleep.

And then a blue light woke her up.

Damn it.

The circuit wasn't faulty, it was just wired. He tried again, Earth. Same planet, same time. But why? Exasperated, the man with the vortex manipulator kicked the floor in disgust. Then he stopped and collapsed on a nearby couch. He didn't even have time to take in his surroundings before silent tears streamed down his cheeks.

He almost did it.

Almost avoided it for a few decades. He thought he finally had the memories buried and then… And then someone had to go and send him to Trion. And that senator, like he was so full of himself asking about police boxes. And finally this, Earth. The graveyard of the universe. Something was pulling him in and he did not appreciate that.

There was a familiar feeling about the place he was in. The smells, the air. He heard faint footsteps approach him. That was odd. He was sure someone would be screaming for a copper right about now. Except no one did. Instead, the owner of the footsteps just sat down next to him. He couldn't see the face of the stranger with his hands catching his immortal rain.

"Dad…"

Back at the hotel room, four hours after their meeting with the Prime Minister, Rex was absolutely fuming. "That woman… what was her name? Curly hair, secretary."

"Lois," Esther quietly supplied.

"Who did she think she was, throwing all the sarcasm out? She's… she's…"

"British?" Esther finished. "Very judgmental of you Rex," she admonished.

"I'm going to grab a drink," he muttered, grabbing jacket, the rental car keys and the hotel card.

"What about me?" Esther asked.

Rex rolled his shoulders. "You're smart. Think of something. Do that… whatever it is that you do."

Esther raised her eyebrows at him as he exited the hotel room. She collapsed on her bed, the one on the left, the neater one, and turned on her Netbook. She had brought too computers with her: her laptop and the smaller netbook. Always be prepared, that was her motto. Though, Esther had to admit, the keys on the smaller computer were vexing.

She found an email from her mom who had wished her a pleasant trip. Esther smiled. Her family had just been told that it was pure diplomatic reasons for her sudden departure to Britain and not the fact that she was part of a super-secret espionage plan. Part of her, the little girl part that had always wanted adrenaline, embraced the idea. The other part, the grown up woman, frowned against it.

Their meeting with the PM only told them what they had already known. Green, the former PM, stepped down after the 456 incident on the excuse that he was unfit for duty, although the world suspected his part in the abduction of children off the streets of England. Then it came out that he had committed suicide. Pulled the trigger to his head. He was found one week later, body all bloated and disgusting. No one had heard the gunshot because of the silencer. The only thing found on him was an envelope in his left hand, clutched tightly between his fingers.

And the world went mad.

News of the death spread like wildfires in California. What was found inside the manila envelope was irrefutable evidence that the government had been framed and that Torchwood, beyond the police, outside the United Nations, was the real one to blame. There were detail reports of Torchwood's history along with the Battle at Canary Wharf. And if that painfully-wounding information wasn't enough, the tables had been turned to make it seem like Torchwood forced the government to give up the children. After all, the report from 1965 stated they had done it before.

But the question had remained in Esther's mind. Why did Green commit suicide? It simply didn't make any sense. It was like the broken piece of a thousand piece jigsaw puzzle. A corner had been cut off so that even thought the story seemed plausible no one could ever be sure.

Then again, politics was complicated and the world just wanted it out and over it. Did the director feel the same as Esther did? Did he feel that Torchwood wasn't to blame?

Bullshit, Esther thought to herself. Even she didn't believe fully in the fallacy she had found. This mission was to target Torchwood and extract all information about them not to overturn a government. She'd be done with this and back to D.C. in no time at all.

She hoped.

Somewhere, in the past and in the future, scattered throughout the cosmos, the timelines converged. Something was coming. Something dangerous perhaps? Confusing? But certainly not the end of the world.

Just something that would change the world and go down in the history books.

I'm writing myself into a brick wall. Barely have the beginning penned. I know how it's going to end; I know the pivotal points. I just can't get there! GAH /rips hair out/

Prophylaxis = preventing opponent from improving one's position at chess