==Chapter 7==

Speak, Friend, And Enter

Field report – Torchwood

- Situation in United States rapidly deteriorating. Growing hostility between native tribes and Europeans, civil war seems inevitable. Return of slave ownership in all states, despite efforts of presidents Lincoln and Cleveland.

- Immigrant fleet survived Atlantic tempests, remaining ships expected at Cornwall ports in due course.

George stumbled to a halt, leaning gratefully against the nearest wall, chest burning as he drew in great lungfuls of damp, smoky air. He'd thought he was fit! "Have we lost them?"

His friend didn't look in much better shape, although Nikola's thin, wiry frame had been a welcome advantage in their flight through London's maze of fog-filled streets; unfortunately, they'd also had to abandon their carpet bags, which would be long gone by now.

Closing his eyes, the telepath's expression became distant again, but this time with a severe frown. "Yes, they've given up... I think..."

George slowly straightened, finally catching his breath. "Well, that was instructive," he muttered. "Note to self: never answer to the name 'George' around a pack of Jacobites!" He regretted his choice of words the next moment as Nikola shot him an apologetic glance, massaging his temples.

"Come on, cheer up," he grinned tiredly. "It wasn't your fault those idiots couldn't tell you're not German! Are you all right?" So many new minds here, crammed into such a small space – Nikola must be battling an almighty headache. At least his friend had had time to grow accustomed to the other passengers during the voyage; besides, most of them had been Negroes, determined to keep their hard-won liberty by getting out while they still could, and certainly not inclined to pick a fight with any of their fellow refugees.

Nikola nodded firmly. "We need to keep moving, we're getting close..."

"Gettin' close t' where, guv'nor?" Both men started as an Irish brogue rang out ahead of them; next moment, a boy in his mid-teens appeared out of the fog, an arrow on the string of a drawn longbow and aimed directly at George's head.

George raised his hands very slowly, Nikola copying – the inventor didn't doubt for a moment that the young man wouldn't hesitate to shoot if given a reason. "Take it easy, son. We don't want any trouble, we just want to talk."

The boy's eyes narrowed, the arrow never wavering from its mark. "An' jus 'oo would yew want t' be talkin' with, now?"

"Elizabeth Lestrade and Sally Watson – we have news of the Doctor." Thank God, Nikola must have sensed that they were in the right place.

The boy started to shake his head, then stopped, looking thoughtful. "Yew give that news t' me, guv', and I'll see it gets d'livered."

Nikola shook his own head firmly. "We need to speak with them directly. Tell them... tell them that John Smith is still alive."

The boy frowned, but then sighed. "All roight, but jus' yew stay where yew are. Yew got others watchin' yew."

George nodded, shoulders sagging in relief. "We're not going anywhere."

November 22, 1895

Faux-Day 21

The bad thing about wearing Victorian dresses is, of course, corsets. The good thing is that I can wear my family locket, and it looks like part of the outfit rather than out of place.

Our new home is a crowded fit, and we can't stay here for long, but at least we're out of Camden House. That was our first priority after Will and I got back, and right in the nick of time, too; one of the boys saw Moran go into the house after we cleared it! Still gives me shivers to think about it.

"Beth? Missus Watson?"

Beth looked up from her phone at Kelly's call, and followed Sally from the study out into the hall to meet the Irregular.

"What is it, Kelly?" said Sally.

"Two blokes askin' fer yew an' Beth, Missus. One of 'em's American, an' t'other 'as a funny accent, kinda German."

Beth's eyes widened. Who could possibly be asking for them? Not Torchwood, surely—she was positive they were still ignorant of Sally's existence. "What did they say?"

"John Smith is still alive."

Beth paled and covered her mouth, irresistibly reminded of the Doctor's human self, her favorite history teacher, and quite possibly one of the kindest and bravest people she'd ever known. But it couldn't be the real John Smith—he'd died. So the message must mean…

"Beth, isn't that…?"

"The Doctor," Beth said hoarsely. "That's the Doctor. His alias…"

Sally frowned. "Kelly, the man with the German accent, what did he look like?"

"Tall, dark, moustache… thin like the Guv'nor." Not Oberstein, then. "T'other one was big, lighter hair, bigger moustache." He shrugged.

Sally turned to Beth. "Anyone you know?"

Beth frowned. "It almost… sounds familiar…" She thought back to the memories the Doctor had shown her, but it had been two years since then, and the only ones she remembered with any clarity were the ones with the blonde girl and with Sherlock and Watson. She shook her head, biting her lip. "I can't… can't remember."

Sally took a deep breath. "Only one thing for it, then."

Kelly grimaced.

Beth exhaled heavily. "We've got to take a chance every now and then," she said softly. These really could be friends of the Doctor—surely he had those all over Time and Space.

Sally nodded. "Take us to them, Kelly."

Kelly's eyes widened. "But, Missus…!"

She gave him a stern look. "If they know about the Doctor, it's worth the risk. We need all the information we can get."

Kelly's expression turned sullen, and Beth sighed. Teenage boys… "All roight, all roight. C'mon." He led them out, and Beth drew her revolver and held it ready, just in case.

Their visitors were sitting on crates in a nearby alley, and looked up at their approach. Both men nodded respectfully. The bigger man was older, the thinner man somewhere in his thirties, and Beth had the strangest feeling that she ought to know exactly who he was.

"Ladies," the older man said, smiling warmly. It was nice to hear an American accent again, she had to admit. "We would shake hands, but under the circumstances…"

Sally nodded slightly in response, studying them.

Beth frowned—not only did she definitely know the younger man, but she had a feeling she recognised the older one as well. "Hello… Who are you?"

"I'm George Westinghouse, and this is Nikola Tesla."

Both girls' mouths fell open. Beth recovered first, eyes wide. "No way." But she did recognise Tesla—he looked almost exactly like the picture she'd had in her world history textbook! "No… really?! The Nikola Tesla?!"

Tesla smiled faintly. "You've heard of me? I'm flattered."

Beth snapped her fingers in excitement as at last she remembered. "That's it! You met the Doctor—I saw that!"

He nodded. "Last March at Niagara Falls – and Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson were with him."

Sally sighed. "I'm getting more jealous of my husband all the time…"

Beth bit back a grin, then sobered. "The message. You said the Doctor is still alive?"

Tesla tried to smile. "Battling the Rift currents and cabin fever, but yes, still alive. We only spoke briefly, however, before the connection was severed."

Both girls frowned. "Severed?" said Sally.

"By something or somebody?" said Beth.

Tesla looked very grave. "Somebody, Miss Lestrade, whom I believe you have already met."

Beth paled and tensed—and then shook her head, realising something. "Wait, wait, hold on—are you saying you're psychic?"

He nodded. "I was commissioned by Torchwood to invent a machine that reversed the effects of aging—but the Rift matter they gave me to fuel the machine was too volatile. I reverted to a child, and my mental powers greatly enhanced. Fortunately, the Doctor was able to reverse the process, but not completely."

"You were that little boy," Beth murmured. She remembered that well, the little boy with the soulful eyes and the kind heart.

"…why are you here?" Sally asked quietly.

"To help you, Mrs. Watson," said Westinghouse, "any way we can. I don't know about the rest of the world, but America's going to hell in a handbasket—at least here in England you've got a little daylight!"

Beth flinched. She hadn't heard word yet from the United States, but she had wondered how volatile, well, the whole Western Hemisphere would be.

Sally put an arm around her, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "We'd be very grateful for that help."

Beth had to admit—she wouldn't mind a couple more adults around at all. This whole fugitive thing was scary.

Westinghouse smiled, a little wearily; Beth thought that she'd probably end up liking him very much. "Our pleasure, ma'am—and I respectfully suggest we don't stay out in the open. Nikola and I ran into a band of Jacobites earlier, who seem to think we're Hanover loyalists."

Sally nodded briskly. "Right. Come on, then, everybody, let's get back indoors."

Beth shivered, suddenly reminded that it was quite cold out. "Fine by me."

As the two men stood and followed the group, Nikola reached out and gently brushed Sally's thoughts. Madam, we need to talk…

Sally gasped and turned to look back at him, eyes wide.

Unfortunately, Beth noticed. "What's wrong?"

"...nothing. Come on." Sally turned back and kept walking, but soon the tentative reply came back: Are you still there?

Yes, don't be afraid. My apologies for intruding like this.

Sally sighed. You startled me. It's a bit weird, having someone else talking inside your head. What do you want?

Nikola hesitated – he'd been considering how best to go about this since leaving Niagara, but the reality was much more awkward than he'd expected. Well, under normal circumstances, your husband would be the one to tell you…

Sally took a moment to digest that. Tell me what?

Nikola took a deep breath. That you're pregnant.

"What?!"

"Zed!" Beth caught Sally's elbow as she stumbled. "Sally, what's wrong?!"

"Nothing! I just want to get… back inside…" Sally shook Beth off and strode briskly on alone, shoulders taut, distress and confusion radiating off her. The poor girl... and there was so much more that Nikola couldn't even tell her yet, it was too soon. He just hoped he'd have the chance.

The telepath noticed George looking at him oddly and shrugged, giving his friend a blank look in return. George's eyes narrowed, clearly not deceived for a moment, but held his peace.

While Will and Beth were away, Sally had often found herself sleeplessly wandering the ground floor of Camden House. Patrol, she'd told herself; she might not be an expert in Frozen Time survival, but she could at least help with sentry duty, while the others got what rest they could. And now they had a new HQ, a new plan of attack, and two more allies – actual adults, at that! – who could clearly be trusted to hold their own in a tight spot, but sleep was still proving stubbornly elusive.

The bitter cold didn't help, of course. All of them were bundled up 24/7 to keep from freezing, since they were anxious not to draw attention by constantly gathering fuel for a fire. Sally didn't like to think of what could eventually happen to life on Earth if both hemispheres were stuck permanently in Winter or Summer...

Her heart missed a beat as a burly figure appeared suddenly in the nearest doorway, then sagged in relief when she recognised Mr. Westinghouse. "What are you doing?" she whispered, sharper than she'd intended.

"Same as you," he whispered back apologetically, "giving up on sleep. Sorry I startled you."

Sally sighed and shook her head. "Doesn't take much these days. Would you like some tea?" Sod the fire rules, a hot cup of anything right now sounded heavenly.

"Please," he smiled, letting her lead the way to the kitchen. Once there, he redeemed himself by coaxing the bloody-minded wood stove into life so she could actually boil the kettle, then perched himself on the edge of a chair, arms resting on his knees. "I've got to get used to this: living in silence. All these boys are like shadows compared to my Junior at the same age, it's uncanny."

"Mm." Sally chose the cleanest of their few mugs and gave them a sparing rinse from the water jug. "I'm an only child, but I did babysit – I know what you mean." She looked at him over her shoulder. "You have a son?"

Mr. Westinghouse... George nodded. "Married himself now, living in Pittsburgh."

Sally echoed the nod slowly, thoughts returning unbidden to what Nikola had told her – could it be...? No, that was ridiculous, she and John had only been together for one night! Only takes the once, her treacherous mind whispered, sounding uncomfortably like one of her old high school teachers. And if it was true...

"He's a smart lad, he'll look after them all right..." George's quiet voice was painfully optimistic.

Sally turned back again with a rueful smile, thankful for the distraction. "Sorry—I zone out a lot lately."

"Understandable." His sympathetic tone made her feel even more like a heel – she couldn't afford to get lost in thought like this, not now!

"It's been... a rough time," she admitted softly, staring down at her hands. "I miss..." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself; she shook her head, blinking hard.

She could sense the empathy in his gaze without looking up. "Marguerite has been staying with George Junior and his wife since I left for Niagara." He sighed. "I tried to cable them from New York before boarding the ship..." His voice became a murmur. "All the lines were down..."

Sally suddenly found it hard to breathe. "I'm sorry," she murmured back, then turned to glare at the still-heating kettle. God, what she wouldn't give to be able to bang something! Making any kind of noise might just help with some of this constant, burning frustration.

She turned back to George, and found him looking strangely awkward. "Watson told me about them, you know," he said abruptly, "before he left."

"Excuse me?" Why was his face turning red, what could he... oh...

"Mary, their child... He said he would give… almost anything to have them back. And travelling through Time with the Doctor… I can easily imagine what kind of a temptation that must have been."

Sally could only stare, speechless. Oh, God... Mary had been pregnant?! Why hadn't John told her?

"So if John Watson could fall in love again after all of that, then the woman he lost his heart to would have to be... quite extraordinary."

He was only trying to be kind, she told herself – he couldn't know how much his fatherly smile was making her chest hurt. And thank God, the wretched kettle had finally started whistling, giving her an excuse to turn away again and try to compose herself. "I don't know about that..." she murmured. "I think it's more that John has a bigger heart than most..."

"That as well. And your husband fights like a tiger for the people he loves, Sally, though I'm sure you already knew that." George gave a quiet huff of laughter. "John Watson's not a man to tangle with lightly – Nikola and I got to see that firsthand at Niagara."

Sally managed a faint smile – besides the rare pleasure of hearing her husband complimented, having boiling water and loose tea leaves to focus on was oddly steadying. She should do this more often, no wonder the Japanese used tea ceremonies for stress relief. "The run-in with Torchwood?"

George smiled in thanks as she handed over his mug, taking a careful sip, but sobered quickly. "Nikola wouldn't say much about what he picked up from the agents' thoughts, but what he did say…" His face was grim. "They'd infiltrated the engineering crew at the power station, with no one the wiser, not even me. If those three hadn't arrived when they did, I would have lost my best friend… and without even a clue where to look for him."

Sally sat down opposite with her own cup as she listened, shivering in sympathy. "We've had a run-in with Torchwood, Beth and I. It was... frightening. And disturbing."

"In the future?"

"The past, for her and me, but... yes, in the future from this point in time. I suppose it makes sense now, how closely they'd been watching Sherlock and John..." But that was also what confused Sally the most: if Bernice had known what would happen with the original Torchwood, why had she given in to Sherlock's demands without a word of caution to any of them? Was it possible she hadn't known?

"For how long, though?" George set his mug on the table and leant forward. "Sally, we'll need to start compiling everything we know about Torchwood, and I do mean everything, past, present and future. Even the smallest detail could help us bring all of this to an end that much sooner."

Sally nodded, smiling at the sight of George taking a notebook and pencil from his coat pocket – of course, a good inventor never went anywhere without his tools. "Might as well start now." No time like the present... and right now there wasn't any time but the present.

It didn't take long for one of the older boys to sniff out the latest brew, and the kitchen rapidly filled up with bleary-eyed Irregulars, Beth and Nikola arriving soon after. With few chairs to go around, most of the boys sat cross-legged on the floor, passing the communal mugs back and forth with an impressive lack of squabbling. It wasn't all tea and gossip, either – quite a few of the Irregulars had something to share about Torchwood and its seemingly huge number of local operatives, information that often just hadn't made any sense before the news of Moriarty's survival.

Right now, it was Sally and Beth's turn, relating what little the Doctor had told them about Torchwood's foundation: the werewolf attack on Victoria in '79.

George flexed his writing hand, looking thoughtful. "So do either of you have any idea of where that happened?"

"Scotland, I think," Sally frowned. "For what it's worth..."

Beth echoed the frown. "I wonder if they have a base there, too."

"Yes..." Nikola said slowly, "'Torchwood' does sound the sort of name you'd give to a property." To the group, "Are there any libraries still around here?"

Charlie, Will's lieutenant, piped up. "The big 'un in Westminster's still there, guv' – s'open all the toime now."

"I can go and research there," Sally was quick to offer, brightening – finally, something suited to her talents! "I'm fast in libraries."

Beth nodded. "And I'll come be your second."

"All roight – Charlie, Nat, yew're goin' with 'em." Will glared at the two boys as they groaned. "Yew ain't got ter do no readin', jus' stay sharp fer trouble!"

Sally glanced sadly over at Beth, who had taken her revolver out and was checking it over – how she hated that any of them had to be that prepared! "Anything else before we head out, then?"

Nikola cleared his throat. "Actually, yes: bring back whatever medical books you can."

Sally frowned. "What?" Medical books couldn't be borrowed, they were reference material – was Nikola actually saying they should steal from a library?!

The telepath spread his hands, gaze flickering over to Sally for just a moment. "None of us have that depth of training, and we can't trust any other doctors, patient confidentiality or not."

Beth looked up from stowing her pistol away. "That's a good point. Will do."

Nikola nodded. "And while that's happening... George, you and I have some other business to attend to." When George gave him an inquiring look, he continued: "Torchwood does know what we look like, unfortunately. If we're not to be a liability on reconnaissance, we'll have to work out some form of disguise –" He stroked his neat moustache regretfully; "which probably means we'll both need a shave!"

Beth and Sally gave both men a sympathetic grin as George's face fell. The poor man's whiskers were impressive, he must have spent years getting them into shape! Then George sighed, nodding in resignation – needs must, after all.

"Welp, all right, you slackers." Beth got to her feet and hauled Sally up out of her chair, who couldn't help groaning; the kitchen was lovely and warm now, and she'd finally been getting comfortable. "Let's get a move on."

Ria: *hums* 'The boys are back in town...' Ahem. Initially, we weren't going to bring George and Nikola to England for the finale (you wouldn't believe how many rewrites we've done for these last episodes), but they soon let us know what they thought about that! Honestly, authors really do get bullied by their characters – just try making them do or say anything they don't feel like!

Sky: And, really, they were very connected to the build-up to the finale—it wouldn't've been fair to leave them out of the final draft anyway! So what surprises will the next chapter bring? Spoilers, sweeties!

Please review!