Torchwood: Divergence
Book Two: Adferiad
Chapter 49
There was silence in the Hub when Turlough had gone, three of the remaining team members working to clamp down on the anger and hurt the former Commander's unexpected betrayal had caused. The fourth honestly wasn't surprised in the least, but sad that he'd been right all along.
"At least she waited till after the Holiday," Ianto commented, finally breaking the tension as he headed toward the stairs to the kitchenette. "And it explains the Poundland greeting card she sent. Anyone need more coffee?"
"Got anything to spike it with?" Martha asked, only half joking.
"Brandy or Scotch," Harkness offered, his expression proving he was completely serious.
"Brandy," the two women present stated in unison.
The Captain disappeared upstairs into the office, came back out shortly after with the cut crystal decanter from his desk and went to join his partner by the coffee machine. Normally he didn't condone alcohol consumption at work this early in the day, but the current situation warranted the morning libation. Ianto produced a shot glass to measure the fragrant liquid with, then talked the older man through a quick lesson on using the current coffee machine since it really took two hands and he was sling-bound on one side.
The spiked hot drinks were parcelled out, and they all went to sit on the couch for a few minutes to simply sip. Finally, Jack sighed and nodded decisively.
"I trust Turlough to deal with his mission," he stated evenly. "And we have jobs of our own to do. Martha, work out a treatment plan for Jerry and get that analysis completed on the plant samples from the supposed faery ring on the grocer's roof in Rhiwbina. Gwen, the two of us will take the Quinstek gun and hit St. Mary's before the weather turns bad. Ianto, while your hand's healing you're the Co-ordinator. Keep an eye on the Rift monitor while we're out, and if Turlough calls for back up either help him or let us know so we can, depending on what he needs. Now let's finish our fine cups of consolation and get the day rolling."
The other three Torchwood operatives saluted him with their cups, and prepared to get to work.
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The trip to St. Mary's had gone off without a hitch. The Weevils had been sleeping so it had been easy to sneak in and fire several blasts from the Quinstek Annihilator into the colony. A few of the aliens has struggled in their daylight slumber, indicating they may have been afflicted with one or more Xhoquitt passengers. An extra particle blast over them ensured the uninvited quests were destroyed, followed by the deployment of a large canister of aerosolised antibiotics to treat any localised infections, and the S-L had appeared to once more be safe and sound within forty minutes of Torchwood's arrival.
Jack and Gwen had returned to the Hub for a few hours of quiet, Ianto patiently monitoring the Rift while Martha worked in the Lab. Lois appeared around Noon with Deli sandwiches, so everyone took a break for lunch. Habiba was briefed on Johnson's turncoat decisions and the mission Turlough was undertaking, the young receptionist's disappointment and anger matching that of the rest of the team.
A Rift alert just after the meal saw Gwen and Martha make a trip to the Royal Infirmary to field a report about a strange creature in one of the supply closets. They came back with a very friendly little visitor that seemed to be a bioengineered cat capable of following verbal commands, and possessing front paws more like a racoon for rudimentary tool use. Harkness remembered the like being used in the thirty-seventh century and after, aboard space faring cargo ships to prevent vermin and perform minor repairs in ducts too small for humanoids to easily access.
Martha took the animal for a thorough exam, discovered it could actually write with a pen with the ability of about a six-year-old, and called itself "Skinnytail." Ianto found a pet carrier in the Archives, bunched up a thick towel inside for cushioning and left it on the counter for the doctor to use when her exam was done, surprised when the moment he stepped away the cat headed straight for it. The green-eyed black shorthair opened the crate herself, crawled inside and relatched the door, then curled up to nap while the team medic ran through all the test data.
"Well," Martha pronounced at last as the Captain and his partner joined her in the medical area to look in on their guest. "She's about two years old, free of any diseases, no parasites, no mechanical augmentation of any kind, no strange energy traces, or radiation emissions, and spayed to boot. In fact, looking at her blood and tissue samples, she's naturally immune to rabies, distemper, FIV, FLV, and pretty much anything else normal pet cats are inoculated against right now."
"Vets are few and far between on some shipping lanes out in the black," Jack pointed out, glancing into the carrier at the sleeping feline. "They had to make sure the Ship Cats stayed as fit for duty as possible. She's got a nice temperament, well fed, perfect coat, so she was obviously being treated extremely well. I'm sure her crew is missing her terribly… if they're still alive. She came through the Rift, so there's no telling what happened to the vessel she was on. And I'd say we'd keep her, except there are way too many things those paws can get her into here at the Hub, and she'd likely wind up a snack for Myfanwy. So… any of you want an indoor only cat?"
"Not with the baby, thanks," Gwen declined from where she sat at her station on Rift duty.
"Lois' complex doesn't allow pets," Ianto supplied quietly, putting a finger through the carrier's door grid to stroke the animal's head, and receiving a sleepy purr for the effort. "What about you, Martha?"
"Mickey is allergic to cats," the medic replied, looking disappointed. "And unfortunately, her saliva still flags for the proteins that cause a reaction, even if at much lower levels than contemporary felines. I'd hate to take the chance and have Himself go all wheezy and blotchy. So, no Skinnytail for me, I'm sad to say."
"We'll ask Turlough when he gets back," their leader decided, heading out of the Lab and across the Hub. "If that fails, I'll see if our clean-up crew at UNIT wants a unique mascot… they'd love to have one over on the Research teams and protect her to their last breath. Right now, I'm going out to run a few errands, top up all the fuel sources for the SUV. My comm is on if you need me, I should be back in about an hour."
"I… could tag along," Ianto suggested tentatively as he came out of the medical bay. "I can't do much here right now, and it would be nice to get out the Hub for a bit."
Harkness simply disappeared into the office, but he emerged a couple of minutes later pocketing a familiar security envelope and the SUV key fob with one hand, the other holding the younger immortal's coat. He smiled and helped the sling encumbered twenty-six-year-old into the black wool garment, then the two of them headed for the big rotating door. Apparently, Jack had been serious about having a source for Notary work, even on Boxing Day.
"We'll both have our headsets on," the American called. "Ianto'll have access to the SUV's system connection if you need to send us any alert information. Play nice while we're gone."
"Push off!" Gwen countered with a laugh, heading up for more coffee.
The cog-wheel door closed on the Captain's answering laughter, leaving the women alone for a while. And there were all kinds of gossip worthy things they could talk about with the team's boys out of the base.
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AN: So, the day started out on a rather stressful note, but has settle to a reasonably pleasant one by Torchwood standards. Hopefully it will stay that way.
"Ship Cats" are the creation of Mercedes Lackey (and mighty fine wee beasties they are). No copyright infringement is intended.
Thank you to those reading the story. And thank you to those who have followed, favourited, and reviewed. NM