The Way to the Heart is Darkness

hey

Mon, 31 Aug 2009 03:42:52 GMT

Hey all,

I just thought I'd let you know that the reason why I haven't updated the Pack in a week is because I'm housesitting until the 5th and I've been away from my internet. This doesn't mean I haven't been writing and I hope to have at least three chapters up for you when I get back to my internet.

Thank you for the patience.

The Pack: (22/?)

Mon, 17 Aug 2009 14:40:28 GMT

Title: The Pack 22/?

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Slash, femslash, het, graphic sex, BDSM, rape and orgies.

Pairings: McShep, Jack/Daniel, Sam/Janet, Jack/Daniel/Carson ... plus many combinations.

Summary: Elizabeth ran her fingers through her hair, she knew that it was wrong to feel relieved about the Wraith stopping to feed but it bought them at least another day ... possibly two depending on how large the culling was going to be, which was twenty-four more hours to get the secret of Pack out of Lieutenant Cadman.

A/N: thank you so much for the overwhelming support, I honestly thought that nobody would be interested in this after all this time.
This is just a little cliff-hangery chapter coz I was to tired after work for anything longer.

Chapter 22.

Jack O'Neill had taken another Mate. It was crazy, hot and John didn't know exactly how he felt about it. Ever since the General became Alpha of the other Pack the two of them had been in friendly competition with each, neither giving ground but always coming to an understanding. Did this then mean that if O'Neill had two Mates he was expected to do the same? In all honestly John didn't know if he wanted another Mate, Rodney was more than enough both in and out of the bedroom.

"You're worrying too much." Carter was sitting across from him in the mess, chewing on a not-apple and watching him with an amused smirk on her face. "Just because Jack's got the stamina of a bull doesn't mean anyone accepts you to do the same."

Unable to think of a come-back to her needling he merely threw her a dark look and continued to push his chunk of mystery meat around his plate, wondering whether the purplish coloured flesh came from the six legged zebra's from the mainland or the scaled rhinos from Istania.

"He's not still moping is he?" Rodney dropped his tray onto the table and fell into his chair with all the grace of a dancing elephant. "Don't tell me you were hoping to get Carson into our bed? Because seriously Ronon is more than enough to fulfill your threesome fantasy."

Sam's head whipped around so that she could stare at him, one eyebrow raised and surprised smile lighting her features.

"Ronon?" she laughed. "Seriously you get Ronon in on the act?"

"Its only been a couple of times." John stared at Rodney hoping that would be sufficient to silence him. "And I don't remember you complaining."

Rodney shrugged and stuffed a forkful of mystery meat into his mouth. "Well of course I wasn't complaining, that neanderthal is incredibly well endowed I would be an idiot to say no."

Sam was laughing outright now, not even bothering to smother her loud chuckling until she gave out a spectacular snort which only seemed to make her laugh ever louder. By now everyone in the mess had turned to see what was going on, most of them realizing that it had to be someting Pack related and returned to their meals while others still seemed to be waiting to see if somebody got thrown onto a table and fucked.

"What are you all looking at!" John got to his feet angrily pulling a complaining Rodney up with him, and then in front of eighty people pulled his Mate into such a passionate kiss the air almost crackled with it. "Happy now?"

He pushed Rodney back down into his chair before storming from the mess, Rodney's yells and Sam's laughing following him out of the door.

"They've stopped again." Chuck pointed with a trembling finger at the display where the dots seemed to be halted in a nearby system. "Which means that they must be hungry."

Elizabeth ran her fingers through her hair, she knew that it was wrong to feel relieved about the Wraith stopping to feed but it bought them at least another day ... possibly two depending on how large the culling was going to be, which was twenty-four more hours to get the secret of Pack out of Lieutenant Cadman. The poor woman was trying everything she could think of to bring those latent abilities out, everything from meditation to some of Carson's scarier pieces of Ancient tech. Elizabeth had been doing her bit too, as the only person other than Dr. Jackson on the base who could read Ancient she had took it upon herself to go through the Atlantis database entry by entry to find anything related to Pack.

"That's good to know." She patted him lightly on the shoulder and then turned to walk back through the control room into her office.

They were almost completely out of ammo, their only line of defence was two months away and the Wraith were just over a week away. In all honesty she couldn't see how they were going to get out of this one, the last time they had been in a seige situation Earth had sent a specialist team through and a large number of nuclear bombs and even then they had nearly been beaten. If it wasn't for the combined genius of Rodney and Radek they would all be dried up husks on a Wraith cruiser somewhere, and that was a truely horrifying thought.

"Dr. Weir?" Janet Fraiser came striding into her office, her lab coat longer than her skirt and her heels clicking on the hard flooring. "We still haven't been able to find anything different about Lieutenant Cadman's physiology."

Elizabeth tapped her fingernails against her desk, she had expected as much but hadn't really wanted to believe it.

"That's alright Janet," she said, leaning back in her chair. "We'll just have to keep trying to find something in the database."

"Well that's actually the other thing I wanted to talk to you about." Janet shoved her hands deep into her lab coat pockets. "I think that maybe we're looking for the wrong thing on the database."

"In what way?" asked Elizabeth.

"When we were kidnapped by the Genii, Kolya would talk about some secret weapon he was hoping to use," answered Janet, fidgeting from one foot to the other. "He called it the Nakenia."

The Pack (21/?)

Mon, 17 Aug 2009 02:27:47 GMT

Title: The Pack (21/?)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: slash, femslash, het, BDSM, rape and orgies.
Pairings: McShep, Jack/Daniel, Sam/Janet, Jack/Daniel/Carson.
Summary: "Yes ... um ... it would appear that I've become compromised." Elizabeth felt her heart drop at those careful words. "We should have all expected it really since it seems that exposure to the Packs, and mostly Rodney, causes the transformation and I've spent more time around them than anyone else."

Chapter 21

Elizabeth Weir glanced up from the badly written mission report on her monitor when her office door slid open, smiling warmly when she saw an exhausted looking Carson standing in front of her.

"Carson." She gestured for him to take a seat. "Have you found anything?"

His entire face and down his neck suddenly flushed a deep pink.

"Yes and no," he answered, refusing to meet her concerned look. "There isn't anything different about the Lieutenant's blood, nothing at all and I've redone the tests three times just to make sure. I don't have any explanation for the sudden increase in physical strength nor the fact that the Pack's seem to believe she is their Queen. In all honesty Elizabeth I think this is more a mental than a physical situation."

Nodding her head Elizabeth pushed her laptop aside and resting her elbows on the desk steepled her fingers beneath her chin. This was becoming more and more confusing by the second, it was almost as if several different problems were attacking these people with some of them having changed DNA and some having heightened hormone levels whilst others had absolutely no changes what so ever. To make matters even more strange Cadman didn't seem to be displaying any of the behaviours that other members of the Packs were.

"Was there anything else?" she finally asked, unable to keep the weariness from her voice.

"Yes ... um ... it would appear that I've become compromised." Elizabeth felt her heart drop at those careful words. "We should have all expected it really since it seems that exposure to the Packs, and mostly Rodney, causes the transformation and I've spent more time around them than anyone else."

It was true, but that meant that surely she was going to be turned into Pack aswell since she had spent so many hours examining and interrogating them in the best interests of Atlantis. There was no way they could afford to lose everyone on this bloody mission to this ... this ... whatever the hell it was!

"You can't," she said. "Its not exceptable Carson the Wraith are a week away and we need you to help find this weapon hidden somewhere inside Lieutenant Cadman, I can't let this happen."

He squirmed nervously in his chair, face turning an even deeper red as he did so.

"Its to late," he whispered. "What's happened has happened. Tonight I've been informed that I'm going to be taken as a mate."

"What?! A mate to whom Carson?" she demanded, jumping to her feet and beginning to pace. "Please don't tell me I have another Pack to contend with!"

"General O'Neill." He seemed as surprised to be saying it as she was to hear it. "I'll be General O'Neill's mate."

"You need to close your mind." Teyla was whispering soothing words to her as they sat on mats in her room. "Try not to think about anything."

Laura cracked open one eye and glared at the meditating form of the first Huntress, how in Pegasus did she expect her to try and relax when there was so much to worry about? She had just found out that she was Pack, the Wraith were seven days away and there was unusual, dark turbulence coming from O'Neill's Pack that was both arousing and exciting.

"I can't do this," she said, stretching her legs out in front of her. "I've never been the type to meditate, honestly I'd rather just go for a run."

"That would not be productive." Teyla hadn't even opened her eyes. "The knowledge to save Atlantis is locked somewhere inside of you, this is the way to retrieve it."

"Yeah but we don't know that," answered Laura. "Colonel Sheppard told me that Odane said when the time comes we'll know."

Opening her eyes Teyla gave her a sharp look. "This is correct."

"So maybe this knowledge isn't supposed to pop up until the Wraith are here." She shrugged her shoulders. "Like its directly related to their presence."

Dr. Daniel Jackson was kissing him, soft gentle kisses that were both terrifying and exhilirating. His tongue was a sly tease and the slender muscular body pushing him down into the bed felt fantastic to hold onto and press his naked flesh against. There was just the three of them in the Pack hold, O'Neill resing on the bed beside them lust darkened eyes watching them closely. With a low keening sound Daniel pulled away from his mouth, pressing his face into Carson's shoulder as his hips began to roll against his thigh leaving a trail of wetness as Carson buried his fingers in his damp brown hair.

"Now," he heard O'Neill rasp. "Now Daniel."

Carson felt the other man nod into his shoulder before levering himself up onto his knees, straddling his hips and stroking his face with one hand.

"Jack," whispered Daniel, holding out his hand which O'Neill placed some lubricant on and gently applying it to Carson's impressive erection.

He pushed his hips upwards into the friction, whimpering desperately when Daniel pulled his hand down to the base to hold him steady. Tightness enveloped him as Daniel began to bare down, the head popping easily through the loosened ring of muscle even as those blue eyes rolled back and the man moaned.

"Oh God!" Carson couldn't help but cry out as Daniel slid down so that his pert buttocks rested on his hips. "Oh my God!"

Daniel in turn had become inarticulate, nothing but glutteral moans and cries escaping him as he slowly began to rise up and down. Each movement caused an electric pulse up his spine, hands coming to rest on those slim hips as Daniel started moving faster and with his head thrown back and skin gleaming with sweat he was the most beautiful thing Carson had ever seen.

"I'm not going to last," moaned Daniel, hips starting to rock shallowly with sensation. "Fuck."

With strong hands O'Neill pulled Daniel away, causing Carson to yell in protest his hands scrabbling for purchase on Daniel's slippery skin. Daniel in turn was writhing urgently as he was placed on his back, grabbing at the General and pleading for completion as his legs were opened wide and held up by O'Neill. In that moment Carson realized he was being presented, almost like a fucking gift by their Alpha and he surged forwards to push back into that welcoming body O'Neill swallowing Daniel's scream as he devoured his mouth. He wasn't able to stop then, thrusting with all his might while Daniel screamed constantly in ecstasy and he clamped down on Carson, pulsing over his own stomach and chest. Carson kept moving, driven by his baser instincts as he threw back his own head and yelled in completion.

The Pack (20/?)

Sun, 16 Aug 2009 15:29:51 GMT

Title: The Pack chapter 20/?
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: slash. Femslash. Het. Rape. BDSM. Orgies (lots of them).
Pairings: McShep. Jack/Daniel. Sam/Janet. Plus many different combinations.
Summary: "Lieutenant you killed a Wraith with your bare hands," said Sheppard. "Things like that don't 'just happen'."

She shrugged and began climbing down from the bed. "Well this time it did, I don't know what happened and I don't know whats happening to me. More importantly I don't know how to stop the Wraith."

Authors Note: I'm so sorry it took me so long to update but I'm dedicating the next eight weeks of my life to this and a Merlin fic I'm also writing. Please have faith that I will finish this bloody story.

Chapter Twenty.

The biggest difference Carson had needed to get used to since coming to Atlantis wasn't the life-sucking alien vampires nor the unusual technology, no it was conducting a routine blood test with a dozen people watching your every move. Lieutenant Cadman was seated on a bed a concerned look on her face while he carefully filled the viles with her blood, while what seemed like the rest of Atlantis filled the infirmary.

"Does it look any different." The voice in his ear was distinctly Elizabeth, and even though he had a number of witty retorts resting on his tongue he decided that it wasn't her fault she was stupid.

Holding the vile up to the light he made a show of examining it before handing it to Dr. Fraiser at his side. "No ... but we'll have to do more tests on it."

He watched as Elizabeth slowly nodded her head and then stepped back as General O'Neill moved forwards. Carson didn't know why he always seemed to become very nervous around the General but it was something which had been happening since the first time he had met the man in Antartica. Maybe it was because he had nearly killed both him and Colonel Sheppard that fateful afternoon, or whether it was due to the man's incredible reputation and very presence ... no matter what he became a blubbering idiot whenever he was around.

"So have you had any sudden inspiration on how we're going to kill these bastards?" Gentle hands appeared on Carson's shoulders as the General moved him aside so that he could be face-to-face with Cadman. "Because we really need it right now."

Cadman shook her head and grimaced at the look on her CO's face. "I'm sorry sir but I can't tell you anything more."

"But in the forest you knew what to do," spoke up Carter. "What about that?"

It was at this moment that Carson realized that O'Neill's hands hadn't left his shoulders and instead were kneading them gently, immediately his face heated and he ducked away from both those distracting fingers and the several pairs of amused eyes watching him.

"I'm not sure m'am," answered Cadman. "I didn't exactly know what I was doing, it just happened really."

"Lieutenant you killed a Wraith with your bare hands," said Sheppard. "Things like that don't 'just happen'."

She shrugged and began climbing down from the bed. "Well this time it did, I don't know what happened and I don't know whats happening to me. More importantly I don't know how to stop the Wraith."

"That's alright love." Carson patted her arm awkwardly, unsure how one comforted their ex-girlfriend in this situation. "Everything in time."

"We don't have any time." Elizabeth had her arms folded across her generous chest defensively. "The Wraith will be here in eight days."

"I'll try." Cadman sounded tired and resigned. "I promise m'am I'll try anything."

"What's that?"

Carson nearly fell off his stool as the deep voice filled the silent infirmary, only then realizing that it was nearly three in the morning and he hadn't moved in nearly eight hours. Suddenly his eyes started to sting causing him to rub them, disjointed patterns and colours flashing through his vision as he did so. Strong hands began to massage the back of his neck and before he knew what he was doing Carson let his head fall forward and a soft moan escaped him. What the hell was going on? Carson Beckett wasn't gay, had never really had any romantic or sexual feelings towards another man until this particular General had strode into his life.

"Its a computer model of the gene which has appeared in Rodney and Janet's blood," he answered, not even recognizing his own voice. "According to the Ancient database we've discovered here, this gene was developed by the Ancients in an attempt to find an ultimate weapon against the Wraith."

There was a low rumble of laughter from behind him.

"You know I didn't actually understand a word of that," muttered O'Neill, dipping his head to gently suck on the side of his throat. "Not that it really matters."

"I'm not Pack!" He stumbled to his feet, almost falling over as his numb legs refused to work properly. "I've tested my DNA nothings changed."

"But from what I can gather from your babbling the other day only Janet and McKay's DNA has changed," whispered O'Neill, throwing a steadying arm around his waist. "Me an Sheppard only have different hormone levels and everyone else is pretty much the same."

"Yes," answered Carson slowly. "But I'm not Pack!"

He couldn't believe he was saying it even as he was melting into the embrace, head falling back to give O'Neill's mouth more skin to play with.

"Are you sure about that?" asked O'Neill, sucking lightly on his pulse point. "Because your body seems to think you are."

That was it! He was a medical doctor it was his job to discover what was wrong with peoples bodies and his own unusual reaction to this particular seduction was just another piece in the puzzle. Except the only answer which seemed to fit was that he had somehow become Pack, which honestly given the amount of time he was spending around them should have been obvious, Fraiser had been changed within only a few hours of being around Rodney. There was however one problem with this scenerio.

"You already have a Mate," he said, pushing O'Neill away. "Daniel Jackson remember?"

"He knows." O'Neill pulled him forcefully into his arms and kissed him. "He approves."

Nos colan - prologue

Thu, 16 Jul 2009 12:51:59 GMT

This is a piece of original (well ok its an uber) fiction that I'm slowly trying to turn into a novel for publication.

December 2005.

Lady Lowri Lloyd-Morgan had once been married to the late Welsh king Tristyn Lloyd, he had been the love of her life, a mouning widower with two young sons and a country to try and hold together. So Lowri had married him and brought some stability both to a country and a family that held a special place in her heart, something which she continued to do even now that Tristyn had been gone for nearly ten years. Placing a hand against the freezing stone wall that made up the main hall of Caerdydd castle. Lowri allowed her fingers to run along the uneven surface as she moved slowly towards the throne room.This had been her home for fifteen years and she had never once considered relocating to one of the more modern homes that Parliment had offered since Tristyn had passed away, yet she did wish that they had central heating and not the old fifteenth century system. About ten feet away from the enormous entrance doors into the throne room she stopped and glanced out of the lead lined window, her dark blue eyes absently following snow flakes as they drifted past. Today was a great day of mourning within the ancient castle, it was one year to the day that Princess Eira Jones had died in a tragic car crash.

Eira had been the fiancee' of the young King Kynan Saith Lloyd-Morgan, and he had taken her death very badly which had Lowri and many others within the family dreading this very day. He was a beautiful young man and at barely twenty-one years of age he had experienced more pain and suffering in his limited years than most people did their entire lives, yet he continued to function and move their country into a new era. Lowri had brought him up since he was four years old and loved him like her own, had comforted him during those dark days of last christmas and hoped that one day he would find happiness again. Which was why when Gavin had called her private residence and told her that Kynan was drinking in the throne room she hadn't hesitated to throw on her dressing gown and hurry down into the lower levels, terrified at what she would find.

Closing her eyes, Lowri took a deep breath and exhaled slowly trying to compose herself to the scene which would be awaiting her on the other side of the doors. Finally turning around she nodded to the two footmen who opened the doors and allowed her to walk through into the largest room in the castle. It was a magnificant room with a five hundred year old buffet table in the middle and a high beamed ceiling. However none of it beauty interested Lowri at this moment, instead it was the defeated figure sat in front of the huge fire on the far side of the room which caught her attention. Kynan was seated on one of the antique chairs, his long legs pulled up so that his chin was resting on his knees.

"Who cares if I get drunk?" he suddenly demanded loudly, turning an angry glare in the direction of the kitchen door.

"You'll care in the morning." Brett London, head of royal security, came striding out of the kitchen and snatched an empty brandy glass out of the king's hand.

Lowri paused in her movement across the room at his presence, knowing that Kynan wouldn't appreciate being ganged up on in a vulnerable state and her step-son was much more likely to take Brett's advice than he was hers. Plus there was the fact that Lowri just liked watching the man work, broadly built and ridiculously good looking he had broken many hearts in his time but she had seen him calm down a little over the past few months and found that he was actually an extremely loyal man.

"Fuck you," answered Kynan, hugging his knees closer to his chest.

"Not this time buddy." Brett grabbed Kynan's wrists and bodily pulled him to his feet. "Now come on its past your bedtime."

Never in the history of the Welsh royal family had a monarch ever been as manhandled by a member of staff as Kynan was by Brett, but then there never had been a more stubborn man than their king.

"Bugger off." Kynan stumbled at this and would have fallen if he had not managed to grab a handful of Brett's shirt so hard that Lowri heard the shoulder seam give way from across the room.

"Now that kind of language isn't going to get you anywhere," said Brett with amusement colouring his voice, as he wrapped one strong arm around Kynan's waist and steadied him. "Plus I thought nice private school boys like you weren't supposed to speak like that."

"I'm the king, I can do whatever I want," slurred Kynan, poking the older man in the chest with his index finger.

"Ah," answered Brett. "I forgot, we don't have kings in America remember."

"But you have lots of Queens?" laughed Kynan. "Twpsod."

"That's true," said Brett.

Suddenly Kynan pulled Brett closer using his handful of shirt and wrapped him in a bonecrushing embrace, and from the expression on his face Lowri could tell that it had come as much of a shock to Brett as it was to her. That was when their eyes met across the room and Lowri saw the battle that was raging inside the fearless man, there was the desperate desire to comfort a man he had become attached to and the need to keep a professional distance while in her presence. Allowing a small smile to come to her lips Lowri slowly nodded her head in assent that Brett should show his young king affection. At that Brett drew him in with one hand on his lower back and the other sliding through his dark hair as he guided the other man to rest his head on one broad shoulder, and held the slender trembling body close. She had never expected Kynan to seek out comfort from this particular man, in fact it was Brett who had been driving the car when Eira had been killed and there were many both within the family and out of it who had voiced there belief that he should be relieved from duty and sent back to Indiana. Kynan had refused to place blame and even though he was angry at Brett he had realised that was part of the grieving process and couldn't be extended into their professional life, personally Lowri was proud of him but she also knew that the talk had started the moment the king made a decision.

She watched as Kynan ran his hands up Brett's spine and pulled him closer, and in that instant the atmosphere in the room changed thickening and seeming to push down onto her like a fog. It took her breath away and she watched as Brett closed his eyes and nuzzled Kynan's hair before gently pulling away with more regret in his face than Lowri had ever seen.

"I want ..." began Kynan in a hushed voice but was quickly cut off by Brett shaking his head.

"You don't want anything," he said. "And tomorrow you won't even remember this, so don't say anything you're going to regret when Lady Lloyd-Morgan tells you in the morning."

"What...?" Kynan spun around clumsily to face her, a drunken smile appearing on his face. "Mam?"

Lowri walked forwards, around the table to place a hand on his shoulder. "Gavin told me you were down here."

With a roll of his eyes Kynan stepped back and moved away from them. "Of course he did, is there anything he doesn't tell you?" It was said with such bitterness that

Lowri closed her eyes before looking to Brett for help. There was nothing there, just overwhelming guilt and sadness.

"Kynan stop acting like a petulant child and let me help you," she said.

He turned her and pinned her with a glare, before crumbling and breaking down into wretched sobs. "I just miss her so much."

"I know you do darling." Lowri pulled him to her and cradled him like he was a five year old boy who missed his mummy again. "But it'll get better I promise."

He clung to her, great gasping sobs ripping from his chest as he dampened the shoulder of her dressing gown with tears.

"I'll be retiring then," whispered Brett, and he started to walk away.

At that moment Kynan's arms tightened and he began to shake uncontrollably.

"No," she said, releasing her burden. "You get Kynan settled, I'm far to old and he's far to drunk for us even to make it to the stairs." She looked at where Kynan was beginning to slump against the table. "And there is no way I can carry him to his quarters."

As if to strengthen her words Kynan collapsed to the floor and stared, unblinkingly up at the ceiling.

"I'll leave him with you Brett," she said, patting his arm as she strode past. "I want him to know that I wish to speak with him in morning, his behaviour tonight was completely unacceptable we are not the Finnish here."

With that she turned and walked from the room, not looking back even though she could hear Kynan swearing loudly and Brett trying to drag the man to his feet.

The Assassins Network 3

Thu, 13 Nov 2008 18:49:28 GMT

It wasn’t 21^st Century Cardiff that was for sure. Anthony knew that he wasn’t well versed in Earth culture, especially this far back, but he couldn’t sense the crackling power which would surely come with the infamous Cardiff Rift.

“Ok, so where are we?” he asked, turning from the high rise buildings and crowded streets to where Nik was standing a few feet away from him. “Because somehow I don’t think we’re where we’re supposed to be.”

Nik had a shifty look in his emerald green eyes, and after a few quick glances around himself he shrugged his slender shoulders: “Looks like London.”

“London?” demanded Anthony, walking over to him and lowering his voice so that the people surrounding couldn’t hear their conversation. “Is that far from Cardiff?”

“Relatively speaking? No,” answered Nik, he gave a vague wave of his left arm. “Its kind of in that direction.”

That didn’t seem so bad, he knew that the vortex technology was supposed to be almost 100% accurate but that didn’t mean that the occasional glitch didn’t happen, after all teleportation between times and planets was still relatively new to the human race.

“But we’re in the right year aren’t we?” he asked.

Flicking open his wrist strap, Nik glanced down at the readings and then nodded his head: “Yeah 2007, we just got stuck in the wrong city.”

“And how did that happen?” demanded Anthony, placing his hands on his hips and glaring at his lover.

“Hmm,” murmured Nik, holding his wrist out in front of him and swinging around to face the opposite direction. “Well according to my readings, this is the last place on Earth that experienced a large surge of vortex energy. I think we just kind of got sucked into the aftershocks.”

“You don’t think it had anything to do with Sandy do you?” he asked.

“No,” answered Nik. “This was a couple of months ago, four at the most, if it had been something to do with the paradox we would have noticed the cascade effect by now.”

“Maybe we should check it out,” said Anthony, following Nik who had started walking down the footpath his eyes still focused on his wrist strap. “And do you think you should just be waving that about?”

Nik didn’t even seem to hear him, instead he was following whatever readings were being displayed for him on the manipulator. He was much shorter than Anthony, and more agile it seemed as he zipped in and out of the afternoon commuters so quickly that he nearly lost him several times. In fact he wasn’t sure that he had been following the right blonde haired midget until he almost crashed into his back because the other man had stopped dead in the middle of the street.

“Now that is impressive,” he breathed, and Anthony followed his gaze to look up at the enormous building in front of them.

It was obviously derelict, with many of its outer windows smashed or boarded up and the white concrete of its outside walls blackened in many places. The huge glass doors that must have once been its main entrance had been barricaded off, and it was impossible to ignore the slightly rusty marks which had stained the bricks of the steps … Anthony had been in enough wars to recognize blood when he saw it.

“What the fuck happened here?” he hissed.

“One hell of a fight by the looks of it,” answered Nik. “Whatever it was involved a high level of vortex energy and …” He drew the word out. “… what looks like dark energy.”

That was enough to jolt Anthony from his silent contemplation of the skyscraper in front of him, there was only one place in all of existence that contained dark energy.

“The Void?” he whispered. “How in the universe did they open the Void?”

“Well how about we find out?” Nik’s voice was full of childish excitement, the way it always did when he was faced with a piece of technology he didn’t understand. “Come on.”

---

“Ah ha.” Owen’s cry of triumph nearly made Ianto jump out of his skin, causing him to turn from where he had been cleaning black goo from the autopsy bays wall.

“And what’s got you all excited?” he demanded, dropping his cloth back into the bucket and placing his hands on his hips. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Owen to succeed in whatever experiment he was doing, it was just that the medic was such a complete pompous prat.

“Do you know what this is?” Owen swung around from his temporary lab setup and held up a small vial of pink tinged liquid.

“Not a clue.” He kept his voice bland, and made sure that he met the other mans gaze straight on.

He had a feeling that whatever Owen had developed it wasn’t going to bode well for them, especially him because the medic had a habit of requesting Ianto to perform all his clinical tests on. During the time that they had decided it was necessary to change the composition of the Weevil tranquilizer he had been constantly knocked out only to reawaken many times in the most compromising of positions.

“This my friend is level 9 retcon,” he said, waggling the vial in Ianto’s face. “I managed to synthesize it from the molecular structure Tosh pulled out of decapitated future guy.”

Reaching out Ianto snatched the vial from Owen’s hand, holding it behind his back when the other man tried to take it back.

“You heard what Jack said, Torchwood doesn’t use level 9 retcon,” he hissed, leaping up two of the stairs when Owen lunged at him.

“That’s only because we’ve never had it in the past.” Owen gripped him around the waist and hauled him back into the autopsy bay, surprising Ianto at how strong the much smaller man was. “Do you really think Jack’s going to care? This is all in the name of science.”

Pushing the vial into his trouser pocket, Ianto slapped Owen’s hands away from where they were beginning to drift southwards and then stepped back.

“You’re not getting it back until Jack’s been consulted,” said Ianto, glaring in response to Owen’s speculative stare.

He knew that Jack wasn’t the only one in the hub who wanted to get him into bed, Owen used snark to flirt and had groped Ianto in dark corners almost as many times as the Captain. Even Suzie had propositioned him a few times when he had first been employed, but he was smart enough not to give in to any of their desires. Well except maybe Jack, but even that hadn’t developed further than a few lustful kisses in the kitchenette the night before.

“Oh and who died and put you in charge?” demanded Owen, plunging his hand into Ianto’s trouser pocket to try and grab the vial.

“Nobody … yet,” growled Ianto, wrapping his fingers tightly around the other mans wrist and pressing against the bones until Owen winced but not before his fingertips had stroked the inside of his thigh and attempted to feel him up.

“Hey, is this a private party or can anyone join in?” Jack’s voice echoed down into the bay, and Ianto shoved Owen away roughly to straighten his waistcoat and shutter his expression into one of stoic amusement. “Okay what’s going on?”

The Captain began his slow descent into the bay, eyes glancing from one of them to the other, always the concerned team leader.

“Owen decided it would be a good idea to create this,” Ianto pulled the vial out of his pocket and handed it to Jack.

“This had better not be what I think it is,” growled Jack, holding the vial between his thumb and forefinger and holding it up to the light.

“Do you have any idea how important this is?” demanded Owen. “We can completely wipe ourselves out of peoples minds.”

“No.” Jack’s voice was harsh as he lowered his hand and glared at the medic. “Level 9 retcon doesn’t just wipe certain events or people, it completely wipes everything! There’s nothing left you don’t even remember your own name, I want it destroyed Owen.”

Owen’s face scrunched up and Ianto could sense a tantrum coming on, watching Jack and Owen together was like watching some dysfunctional father-son routine on one of those family reality shows.

“Jack we could use this,” argued Owen.

“I’m sure we could.” Jack handed the vial back to Ianto and folded his arms across his chest. “But we’re not going to.”

“Jack …” whined Owen, but was cut off when Jack took a step forward to tower over the medic in a intimidating manner.

“No,” hissed Jack. “I don’t want you to even think about making any more of it.” He spun around to face Ianto. “Destroy that vial.”

“Yes sir,” he answered, beginning to climb the stairs back into the hub but was stopped when he heard Owen mutter something that sounded like ‘teachers pet’.

“Oh Owen, you’re in enough trouble as it is,” answered Jack. “I would stop now if I was you.”

Deciding that Jack was perfectly capable of dealing with Owen on his own, Ianto walked into the secured archives and placed the vial in autoclave. He knew that the medic would kill him for melting it down in his favourite new toy, but right now he couldn’t care less. When Ianto had first ran from Torchwood One and started working for Torchwood Three he had complained about Jack’s atrocious recruitment and training procedures, in fact Captain Harkness didn’t have any set training regime. Not that he would ever tell the man, but Ianto was sure that this was the reason why Owen and Gwen walked all over Jack and thought they could get away with anything. And honestly to say he wasn’t getting his dick sucked by either of them it was really quite pathetic.

---

Glaring down at the bullet hole in her coat, Sandy took a hold of the leather and wiped the blood smears off the blade of her cutlass. At least this one had been a bit of a challenge, well he had managed to get a single shot off before she had brought him down with a far more primitive weapon. Once upon a time it had been a massive stroke to her ego when she had been able to destroy an adversary with such ease, now she just found it hugely disappointed.

“Stupid bastard,” she whispered, walking the three steps across the alley to where the body was laid out.

His blood was splattered across the walls of the warehouses and the filthy floor of the alley, his eyes were blank as they stared up at the sky and the shocked look on his face was almost comical. She knelt in a blood free patch on the concrete and hurriedly removed the mans vortex manipulator, stuffing it in her pocket before going through his coat. When her fingers hit a small metal canister she dragged it out.

“Oh no you fucking bastards,” she muttered, running her fingers lightly over the aerosol delivery section of the canister.

---

“I think I know what this is.” Nik pressed his hand against the frosted glass of the main doors, trying to make his eyes adjust to the darkness inside the building.

“Me to,” answered Anthony from further down the building where he was lightly tracing some black lettering on the glass with his fingers. “Its Torchwood.”

Nik furrowed his brow and tried to remember where he had heard that name before, probably during his days at the Academy, if it was anything important to do with Earths history then he would have learnt it in culture class.

“What’s that when its at home?” called Nik, pushing against the door and growling when it refused to budge.

“Not sure,” answered Anthony. “That’s just what it says on the window.”

“Well whoever these people are …”

“Were,” interrupted Anthony, eyes glancing at the blood stains on the pavement.

“… they’ve been in the Void,” continued Nik, pushing on the door with more force. “They’re powerful, and that could be bad for us.”

“Oh come off it Nik, I think its pretty obvious they’re not even here anymore.” Anthony looked up at the building. “And whatever drove them away did a fucking good job.”

That’s when a memory came back to Nik, one that had terrified the hell out of him at the time and made him wonder how anyone on the planet had survived.

“Daleks!” he exclaimed.

He watched as Anthony reacted instinctively, reaching for his gun and half drawing it out of its holster before he realized they weren’t under attack.

“What about the Daleks?” he demanded, stalking towards Nik with a pained expression on his face. “Apart from the fact they’ve been chasing my people across the universe for the past thousand years?”

“They fought here against the cyberman.” Nik grabbed his wrists and shook him. “The Daleks and Cybermen were fighting each other for Earth, yet somehow they were stopped and Torchwood are the only ones who know how.”

“The battle.” Anthony turned away with a thoughtful look on his handsome face. “That’s the ancient battle with the twenty-seven survivors? Fuck if they managed to survive a fight between the Daleks and Cybermen they maybe they’ll be able to give the Tigers a run for their money.”

The Assassins Network 2

Thu, 13 Nov 2008 18:46:39 GMT

Her first kill hadn't exactly been difficult, not when the poor sod had already been retconned and left for dead on the streets of Cardiff by his own colleagues. The Tigers had the largest turn around rate of any assassin cell within the Time Agency, and that wasn't just because of the dangerous missions they were required to perform, but because their leader Yunia retconned anyone that questioned his authority back to infancy. Sandy knew that it was probably bad form to kill a man who didn't even remember his own name let alone a mission he had been sent on three thousand years in the future, but it was necessary to take down all nine members of the cell just in case.

"That'll be a pound love." Sandy glanced up from the newspaper she had been flicking through before digging through her pockets and pulling out some coins.

"Keep the change," she said to the shop owner as she placed the money on the counter.

It was 8:06am in the heart of Cardiff and she found herself all but crushed against the number of bodies on the pavement, realizing that her usual leather clad form didn't exactly fit in with the suit wearing business people swarming around her. In fact she was getting more than one confused, and interested, glance and it was frankly making her uncomfortable. She had come to 2007 Wales on the spur of the moment, not thinking about what her appearance would say to the natives. It was all really quite sloppy for a Time Agent, they trained for years to make sure that they wouldn't effect history in a negative manner and that included things like language, clothing and culture; honestly she felt like a right idiot letting herself travel here in her typical 51st Century attire.

"God I hate this place," she muttered, looking both ways before quickly crossing the road and heading into a park. Normally she wouldn't let herself sit out in the open like this, but the Tigers had no idea that she was here yet, and in regulation with all Time Agency rules she didn't fraternize with other assassins and therefore probably wouldn't even be recognized if she passed them on the street. Plus it was nice to sit in the sunlight, tip her face into the warmth and just wish that for once she could fit into any timeline or any place in the universe; but no she was an enigma destined to flit around through time and space for the remainder of existence, and it kind of sucked.

Taking one last look around her, she opened the paper with a flick of her wrist and started quickly reading through the articles. There was absolutely nothing about yesterdays murder in there, which surprised her because it wasn't like journalists of any era to ignore something like a nearly decapitated man laying in the middle of the street. This could only mean one thing, that somebody out there was cleaning up after her and that was a disturbing fact. Not many people in the 21st Century knew much about alien technology, and pretty much the only ones left with any say over the authorities was UNIT and why they would be involved in a simple homicide was beyond her. Fuck, she couldn't have the likes of UNIT onto her they would want to take her in for questioning ... or worse they would want to help.

---

Captain Jack Harkness carefully rested his chin on his steepled fingers and blinked rapidly as the laptop screen began to blur across his vision. Level 9 retcon! Only one organization in the long span of time had ever had access to the stuff and that was the Time Agency, and the longer he stared at the read-outs displayed on his computer the more convinced he was that this had something to do with his old boss. Though what the hell was Toma Garnett Jnr thinking sending his retconned ex-agents into his territory?

"Jack." Tosh walked slowly into his office, fiddling with her sleeve. "Can I talk to you?"

It still amazed him that after three years of, almost, loyal service to him Tosh was still extremely nervous when she had to approach him outside of her computer filled comfort zone. Even though he desperately wanted to put her at ease bad-Jack, that tiny little voice that was always whispering in the back of his mind was trying to find some kind of innuendo which would make the woman flush. Fortunately for her good-Jack won the battle today. He gestured for her to sit in the chair opposite and waited for her to be seated.

"Toshiko! Of course you can." He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "What's wrong?"

Her fidgeting didn't let up, instead she transferred her fingers onto the arms of the chair and began picking at the worn wood there.

"I've been going through the scans that we took on the scene," she said, fluffing her black bob. "And I think I've found something."

She really was a genius, something which over the years he had unfortunately overlooked in favour of making her hack into the police network and NHS files yet this was the woman who could create high level pieces of technology with nothing more than a few odds and ends. It made him realize that Ianto wasn't the only person in Torchwood that he had been badly neglecting.

"And what's that?" he asked, careful to unfold his arms so as not to look defensive in her presence. While he was waiting for her to answer Ianto slowly entered the room wearing a perfectly pressed pin-striped suit complete with waistcoat and a cup of steaming coffee. "Oh Toshiko how did you know its my birthday? Really you shouldn't have."

Tosh hid her shy smile behind her hand, while Ianto merely rolled his eyes and placed the mug on the desk in front of Jack.

"Was there anything else you needed sir?" he asked, ignoring Jack's leer and turning to give Tosh a quick wink. Sometimes Jack thought that he knew exactly the kind of effect he had on him.

"Not what you're offering I'm sure," he answered, accepting Ianto's quick nod and watching as the young man left his office. It was only Tosh's polite cough who brought him out of his lustful thoughts. "So what have you found?"

"The chemicals we found had markers set onto the molecules," she said, sitting forwards in her seat.

"What kind of markers?" he asked.

"Date markers," she answered. "The technology is remarkable, I mean we're nowhere near this level ..."

Jack hated to cut her off but he had a feeling that she could talk about this for hours: "What's the date?"

"Huh?" she answered, eyes becoming focused again.

"The date on the markers," he said, waving his hand in a circular motion. "You did say they were date markers."

"Oh," she answered. "5063."

"The 51st Century?" he asked blandly, not entirely sure how he felt about that fact. "So what the hell is it doing here?"

Tosh shrugged her tiny shoulders: "Maybe it came through the rift, we have been having a lot of unusual rift activity lately."

"Somehow I don't think that a vial of Level 9 retcon fell through the rift and somebody just decided to take it." He ran his fingers over his bottom lip in thought. "This rift activity didn't happen to be in Splott did it?"

"No," she said with a chuckle. "Maybe he came through the rift with the retcon already in his blood?"

"I suppose that's a possibility," he answered.

"Or he was already here and whoever retconned and murdered him came through the rift." Ianto's voice came through the door, and Jack turned to see him leaning against the doorframe with one hand resting on his hip. "What do you guys want for lunch?"

---

"What are these?" demanded Anthony, pointing uncomfortably at the painfully tight jeans Nik had forced him into. "I can't believe that anyone from any century would wear something as uncomfortable as this."

Nik gave a snort of laughter and pulled the zip of his sweatshirt up to his throat: "You're just lucky I'm not taking you back to the 1800's, the women on Earth had this disturbing habit of using the bones of marine animals to crush their rib cages."

It had taken nearly one Gastenian week to organize their trip, and the hardest part had been finding adequate clothing and weapons that were native to the time they were going to. The true test of a Time Agent was to not draw to much attention to yourself, with attention came a certain shift in time that humans couldn't sense but there were species out there who could, and who could easily destroy every foundation of the Time Agency. They had to be extremely careful.

“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” asked Nik, knowing that Anthony was getting sick of his constant questioning of their actions, but he had a lot to lose here.

“Look the idea of putting Nate at risk scares the shit out of me as well, but I’ve sent both him and Jos to Birtan and you know he’ll take good care of them. Plus we both know that Whelmstow would never send Agents into Linde’ uninvited.” Anthony tugged unhappily on the waistband of his jeans and then looked back up. “Even he’s not that stupid.”

Nik slowly nodded his head, apart from the Shadow Proclamation itself there was no place in the universe safer than Linde’. They were a beautiful, peaceful society built on a world where they had needed to fight tooth and claw for everything they possessed; a people ready to raise arms and go to war if they believed the cause to be worthy. Sandy had lived with them for nearly a century, interjected herself into their society, raised quite high in their hierarchy and given the greatest of gifts they could bestow, but that was before Whelmstow had attacked and she had needed to return home.

“That’s true,” answered Nik, though he couldn’t shake the memories of his own young son and daughter whom had been murdered during the take-over.

“It’s either this or non-existence,” said Anthony.

With a nod Nik smoothed down his clothes, checked the placement of each and every one of his concealed weapons, and then held out his wrist to his companion. His stomach fell at the sight of the wary grin Anthony threw at him, knowing that this was quite possibly the last time he would be in his own time, before the other man placed his hand over the leather vortex manipulator.

“Let’s do this,” whispered Nik, flipping open the flap and hitting a series of flashing buttons, leaning over to kiss Anthony quickly before a bright light enfolded them and then there was darkness.

---

The 51^st Century, the very thought of it made Jack’s head ache and something in the region of his heart to throb painfully. The brief part of history in which the boy who would become Captain Jack Harkness the immortal, time travelling conman was to be born. The time when the Boeshane Peninsula would be colonised and then destroyed by a race of horrifying monsters from beyond the stars; the time when he would let go of Gray’s hand and his whole world would come tumbling down around him. It had been many years since he had let his mind wonder over these memories, trying to save himself the agony of lost love. Now however the evidence of those dark days was right here in front of him, the digital representation of an extremely complex molecule spinning slowly on the screen of his computer. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting here after his talk with Tosh, but long enough for the lights to dim and his three field agents to return to where ever they called home. Myfawny had settled in her nest and the only sounds coming from beyond his office was the rhythmic drops running down the water tower and the hum of Tosh’s computers.

Jack hated being alone even though he had had over a hundred and fifty years to get used to the idea; he had never been able to get used to sitting alone in the dark just waiting for the future to whisk him away. With a deep sigh he pushed away from his desk and strode back out into the main body of the hub, feeling more in tune in this place than he had ever been in his entire life; even the TARDIS had never really been all that fond of him. Thoughts of the TARDIS and its occupants caused another flare of pain to run down his spine, his eyes turning to where the solitary hand sat in its stasis jar, the fingers wiggling with each bubble of the blue liquid it was suspended in. He really should know better than to wallow in abject misery, it always made him grouchy and that was easily picked up by his team; the last thing he needed was to have them all snarking at each other for the rest of the investigation.

“Would you like some coffee sir?” It was quite possible that Ianto Jones was the only person in the universe with the ability to actually sneak up on him, the man was as graceful and silent as a cat. “Or would you like me to clear out and give you some peace?”

“No that’s fine,” he answered, watching as the young man moved around the hub collecting dirty mugs. “I’m not really in the mood to be alone right now.”

Ianto looked up at him, expression clouded with surprise and a tinge of regret: “Well I’m afraid you’ll have to do with me this evening sir.”

The softly spoken words were like a kick in the stomach to Jack, and he found himself staring at Ianto in shock. He knew that the aftershocks of the Lisa incident had rocked their already shaky foundation, but he had thought that Ianto would know it was no stretch for Jack to enjoy the company of the Welshman. No if he was honest with himself he didn’t just enjoy Ianto’s company, he revelled in it, all but drowned himself in the other man’s stable presence. It had been a long time since he had ever desired anything as much as he did Ianto, to just lose himself in the passion he knew lay just beneath the surface, it was almost addictive.

“I can’t think of anyone else I would like to spend time alone with,” he answered, letting the innuendo smother the honesty in the statement.

“Of course sir,” said Ianto, throwing him another puzzled look before continuing with his tasks. “Should I get that coffee then?”

“Yes please,” answered Jack, watching as he walked into the kitchenette with an armful of mugs and giving him a few moments before following him.

“So Gwen told me all about the investigation,” said Ianto, not even turning away from the coffee machine. “I hope you don’t mind.”

That shocked Jack into movement, causing him to step further into the kitchenette and right behind Ianto.

“Why would I mind Ianto?” he asked, wrapping his fingers around the other man’s bicep and easing him around so they were face to face. “Why do you think I would mind that you knew what was going on around here?”

Ianto shrugged: “I can’t be trusted with confidential information.”

It was said as a statement of fact, the words dull and bland as if it was something he had been practicing.

“What? Of course you can,” hissed Jack. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Lisa,” was the whispered answer.

“Ianto you hid a cyberman in the basement, you weren’t selling alien technology to Iran,” laughed Jack. “Were you?”

Blue eyes snapped up to meet his, and Jack could see denial burning in their depths.

“No sir I wasn’t,” he said.

“Then I’m not worried about you knowing about any of the investigations we perform,” said Jack. “Its not as if I’ve locked you out of the archives or changed your passwords, in fact I would rather you got more involved in the going ons around here.”

Ianto smiled and then watched through wary eyes as Jack slid his hand slowly down his forearm to tangle their fingers together.

“What are you doing sir?” he breathed.

“I’m not angry with you anymore,” answered Jack. “And I know you hate me but I hope that one day we can get back to where we were.”

A flush was beginning to form on Ianto’s cheeks and in a move that made Jack nearly swallow his tongue he took a step closer so that they could feel the heat radiating from each other bodies.

“I don’t hate you sir,” he whispered. “But I’m not entirely sure where we were.”

Afraid that he was going to break the mood but completely unable to stop himself, Jack slid an arm around the man’s waist and drew him in. He had been expecting a struggle, at least a minor freak-out, what he hadn’t been expecting was the soft sigh and the way the slender body seemed to melt into his.

“Hopefully heading for something much more satisfying,” murmured Jack, smiling at the soft chuckle this brought from the man in his arms, god it had been to long since he had heard Ianto laugh. “Mutually satisfying.”

“I don’t think I’m ready Jack.” The unfamiliar use of his name made him tip up the gorgeous face and search his eyes for any untold secrets, he was pleased to find nothing but affection and the hint of the sadness that always lurked there. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t expect that you would be,” he answered. “I’m not going to rush you into any kind of intimacy.”

There was another chuckle and amusement filled those blue depths: “Intimacy?”

“Yes.” Jack pressed a soft kiss against his hair. “What would you call it?”

“Sex,” answered Ianto. “I believe Owen would call it shagging.”

“Well maybe Owen shags.” Jack lowered his mouth to Ianto’s ear and dropped his voice a couple of octaves. “But I can guarantee I do something much better.”

Pulling back in his arms, Ianto shot him incredulous look: “Oh I don’t think there’s enough room in your bed for you, me and your ego.”

“And here I thought threesomes were all the rage in the 21^st Century,” laughed Jack, pulling back him back into his arms.

“Maybe, but I never was any good at sharing my toys.”

With another laugh Jack bent down to suck softly on Ianto’s bottom lip, knowing when the other man was ready to be properly kissed by the way his lips parted and the way his breath had quickened into almost panting puffs. Jack couldn’t remember the last time he had spent so much time seducing a lover into his bed, even in these repressed times he generally just had to click his fingers and he could have anyone he wanted anywhere he wanted. This was slow and deeply arousing, Ianto was undeniably complicated but Jack was certain that the prize at the end was worth it.

“I think I like the idea of being one of your toys,” he whispered.

“Are you going to kiss me or should I just finish feeding Myfawny?” muttered Ianto, his eyes were still closed with his long lashes fanning across heated cheeks and a husky tone coursing his accent to deepen. Jack was so hard it hurt.

"Yes sir,” he answered, watching as Ianto’s generous lips twisted into a soft smile.

“Jack,” he whined and that was it for Jack, he lowered his mouth and captured the other man’s lips in a kiss full of affection and promise.

Next

The Assassins Network 1

Thu, 13 Nov 2008 18:40:46 GMT

"Its raining then?" The dismayed tone of Ianto's voice carried through the hub as Owen and Gwen struggled a body bag down into autopsy.

"Sorry sweetheart," Gwen called back, her voice slightly muffled as it echoed up from the bay.

With a low groan he walked down the stairs and into the main body of the hub, scowling down at the muddied footprints that his two colleagues had left on their stumble through the base. Normally he would comment on the mess they were making but it was only a month since he had returned from suspension and he was afraid of bringing to much attention to himself these days. Jack naturally wasn't playing by the rules, firstly he had spent a lot of the suspension sitting on Ianto's couch dropping crumbs all over the rug and then had tried to draw him further into the team which had concluded in the disastrous excursion a fortnight ago. Part of him was desperate to rush off and grab the mop and bucket but he knew that it was no use cleaning up now when Tosh and Jack would be wondering in any minute now dripping onto the floor without a second glance at him. Light footsteps leading up from the garage made him turn around to see Tosh walking towards him, she was barefoot and drying her hair with one of the towels from the locker room.

"Its horrible out there," she said, placing a freezing hand on his cheek as she passed and giggling when he flinched away. "I think its going to be a frightful night."

A moment later Gwen returned to her work station and Ianto watched as she removed her sneakers and soaking socks before looking around for somewhere to place them.

"Here." Ianto walked forward and carefully took them from her. "I'll put them under the heater to dry."

"Oh no." She took a lunge for them but he was far more graceful and eased away. "I'll do that."

Without another word he turned and walked towards the kitchenette, flicking the heater on and placing the sodden sneakers underneath.

"Alright Owen what is it?" The sound of Jack's voice, almost large as life than the man himself, startled Ianto from his where he had been staring blankly at Gwen's sneakers.

"Hold your horses Harkness," answered Owen, appearing at the foot of the stairs from the autopsy bay. "I haven't even got him out of the bag yet."

Te medic ran his fingers through his short hair, sending drops of rain water everywhere and causing Ianto's right eye to start twitching. Sometimes he honestly didn't think it was worth the amount of time and effort he put into cleaning the hub; between Jack and Owen he made very little headway on a daily basis and if it wasn't for Tosh actually knowing what a bin was he might actually have gone mad by now. He took another look over the soaked, overworked lot of them and moved to take a stack of fluffy towels from the kitchenette cupboard. Making sure that his footfalls were silent and that he managed to remain on the edge of the group as he placed a fresh towel on Tosh's desk, placed one in Owen's hand and then walked up behind Gwen to gently place a towel over her shoulder.

"Yes but I would have thought that you'd have come up with something on the scene," answered Jack, hands moving to his hips and seemingly oblivious to the several large puddles developing around his feet.

Honestly Ianto wondered how they had got along before Jack had recruited him, Torchwood Four probably hadn't been abducted by aliens like everyone thought, no they had more than likely disappeared underneath a pile of rubbish in the hub, never to be seen again.

"Well its human, or at least the scans say that it is. Male, mid-thirties and with some unusual elements in his blood when we scanned him," answered Owen, beginning to roughly dry his hair.

"Cause of death?" demanded Jack, obviously not in the mood for Owen's sarcasm.

"I would have to say that the fact that the poor bastard having been nearly decapitated by a very long, curved blade probably had something to do with it," answered Owen, ignoring Gwen's soft snicker and Tosh who hid behind her work station to hide her smile.

With a shake of his head Ianto moved swiftly across the hub to Jack and placed his fingers carefully under the collar of his great coat, a signal that the Captain should let him remove the coat, Jack shrugged out of it instinctively and Ianto allowed himself a private smile at how easily it had been to train the other man. Sliding the coat off Jack's arms he nearly stumbled back, the bloody thing was heavy enough under normal circumstances but when wet it weighed a tonne. With a low groan he draped it angrily over the railing above the autopsy bay and then handed the Captain the last towel, glaring at him until he was given a wary smile and the man started to dry himself.

"Well get to work then," said Jack, voice muffled by the towel before turning and moving up to his office, which just meant there was another room Ianto was going to have to clean of water marks.

Ianto watched as a grumbling Owen returned to the autopsy bay, nearly slipping on the slick stairs and turning around the glare at him as if it had been his fault. With a grin that he knew would infuriate the medic, Ianto turned and walked back into the kitchenette knowing that if they didn't all get something warm inside them straight away he would be dealing with snotty tissues littering the hub for at least a week. Running a hand affectionately along the highly polished surface of the coffee maker, he started delving through the upper cupboards, coffee would probably be a bit strong right now but tea would go down nicely. Except for Jack, the man refused to touch the stuff and the one time that the Cardiff lorry drivers had gone on strike and they hadn't been able to get supplies (except for peppermint tea) he had written an official letter of complaint to the Queen. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed that he had been making the tea on auto-pilot, boiling the kettle and organising everyone’s favourite mugs, adding sugar and cream to perfection.

"Oh fantastic." Gwen's voice broke into his quiet contemplation as she stepped into the kitchenette. "I was just thinking I could do with a cuppa tea."

He found himself smiling softly at her, taking hold of her favourite dragonfly mug and holding it out, watching as she cradled it in her finely boned hands and slowly took a sip of the steaming liquid.

"Don't burn your mouth," he said, and she blew the steam from the top of the mug.

"Do we have any biscuits?" she asked, placing the mug on counter and rubbing her hands together.

Glancing quickly around the kitchenette he let out a hum before lifting the lid of the biscuit jar and scowling at the few crumbs he found there. Food didn't last very long in the hub since both Owen and Jack had the appetite of starving hyenas and could demolish a packet of biscuits in under two minutes. That was why Ianto had needed to become extremely clever in his snack hidey-holes, after discovering that Jack had a disturbing habit of watching his every move over CCTV he had learnt to start hiding food during their 3am maintenance period.

"This is strictly between you and me." He pointed a finger at Gwen and returned her happy grin, feeling like he was finally bonding with this remarkable woman. "Because if Owen or Jack ever find out we'll all end up starving to death."

With that he removed his jacket and placed it on the tiny table before climbing onto the counter, resting on his knees as he reached up to grab the two packets of HobNobs he kept hidden above the cabinets.

"You really are sneaky," Gwen said from behind him, and he turned to roll his eyes at her.

"So what's this case you're all working on?" he asked, feigning innocence solely because he loved the sound of her voice when she was talking about something she was passionate about.

"Man was found murdered in a alley in Butetown." He threw a pack of HobNobs to her and stretched further forward to try and reach the second pack which had rolled near the wall. "His throat had been slashed with such force it nearly decapitated him."

The very tips of his fingers grazed the packet and he growled in frustration.

"Doesn't sound like something Torchwood generally gets involved in," he said, knitting his brows together and glaring at the biscuits in the hope that mind power alone would be enough to force them to roll within reach.

"Well Tosh has been picking up some strong Rift activity in that area over the past couple of days, and Andy called to let us know that the victim was found with some unusual pieces of technology." He could practically hear her shrug. "Doesn't Jack brief you about these things?"

Over the past month Jack had been trying to bring Ianto further into the team, insisting that he attend meetings and various other team related get-togethers, but Ianto had a lot of tasks to perform in the hub and the archives kept him especially busy so he didn't very often get the chance. Afterwards Jack didn't very often seem to feel the need to fill Ianto in on what was going on in the field.

"He's a busy man, I'm a busy man." He shrugged his shoulders. "We're just both busy men."

There was a soft chuckle: "Now there are some things I'm never to busy for."

The sound of Jack's amused voice, full of his usual warmth and innuendo, startled him so badly that he slipped backwards off of the counter, closing his eyes against the pain he was anticipating. It never came, instead he fell into a broad chest and strong arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

"Good catch," said Gwen, causing Ianto to glare at her as Jack began pulling him backwards so that his legs could slip off the counter and he could get his balance.

"Yes well ..." Ianto turned in Jack's arms and started trying to disentangle himself from the other man. "... thank you."

Completely ignoring Ianto's struggles Jack pulled him closer and waggled his eyebrows at him.

"We really need to try this again sometime." Jack's lips ghosted over his and Ianto felt his eyes flutter closed. "Without the audience." He let him go and then took a flamboyant step back, throwing Gwen a megawatt smile. "Then again we could teach the kids a lesson or two."

"Nobody will be teaching anyone anything," said Ianto, poking Jack in the chest with his index finger and then walking out of the kitchenette with as much dignity as he could muster.

"That's a damn shame Mr. Jones," Jack called after him, before turning his attention to Gwen. "So do we know who our decapitated friend is?"

---

Somebody banging loudly on his front door awoke Nik from a relatively deep sleep and he stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment before opening his wrist strap and randomly hitting one of the buttons inside. Immediately his living room filled with the holographic image of a handsome man, and Nik rolled into a sitting position on the couch, pressing another button on the manipulator and watching as the front door glimmered silver and then disappeared.

"What are you doing up?" demanded Anthony, his accent deepening in concern as he hurried into the apartment. "You should be in bed."

Nik groaned, tipping his face up so that he could look at the man currently pacing the room. He knew that Anthony Jones wasn't his real name, just like Sandy hadn't been born with such a none Gastenian name, but as a Time Agent it seemed to fit, plus Nik couldn't imagine calling him anything else. He was also strikingly beautiful; tall and lean with olive skin, curly black hair and dark eyes. His genetics screamed that he was Makorian, a species that had fled their home system when the Daleks had attacked Gallifrey, as they themselves were an interesting mix of Time Lord and human. This was a fact which caused them to flee across the galaxies from the enemies their cousins had unwillingly made. Anthony was the youngest son of the Makorian royal family, his older brother Jos had been stolen by Sandy nearly two centuries ago to play assistant, and that was when they had first met the man, the crown prince of a dying race. Anthony had saved both his and Sandy's lives many times over the years, and due to the fact that all three of them came from long-lived species they had made quite a reputation for themselves in the Agency.

"I'm fine," said Nik finally, holding up his carefully bandaged arm for inspection. "I know field medicine remember?"

Anthony paused in his pacing to walk over to Nik and gripped his wrist gently, turning it so he could see the blood soaked bandages.

"That's archaic," he muttered, jostling Nik back on the couch and straddling his thighs. "Anyone would think you weren't from the 51st Century."

For a moment Nik let himself luxuriate in the heaviness of Anthony's body pressing into his legs and the soft fingers undoing the bandages to get to the marred skin underneath.

"I'm not, technically I was conceived in the 43rd Century," he whispered.

"Semantics," murmered Anthony, running his fingertips over the inflamed skin surrounding each one of the deep cuts. With a soft sigh he leaned forward and pressed his lips against each cut, causing a bright spark of desire to run through him and he felt Anthony chuckle against his flesh. "You're an idiot do you know that?"

"I can't believe I've just been tortured to within an inch of my life and you're going to insult me?" demanded Nik, knowing that his anger was lost in the huskiness of his voice.

"Yes, and now I'm going to heal you with some good 51st Century know how," said Anthony, digging into the deep pocket of his jacket and pulling out a small ornamental box.

Nik screwed up his face at the sight of it: "You know I hate them."

"Stop being such a baby," said Anthony, pulling at Nik's wrist until he stretched his arm and then flicked the box open. Several tiny glowing dots floated up from the box before descending on the wounds, Nik closed his eyes against the sight of the nanogenes stitching his skin back together. "See, all done."

Slowly opening his eyes, Nik glanced down at his flawless arm and then back up at Anthony.

"Thank you," he said with only a hint of sarcasm.

---

Owen threw a number of manila folders onto the conference table as he entered the room and quickly circled the team so as to pick up the remote control and turn on the flat screen.

"Now the headless horseman downstairs has a lot of unusual chemicals in his blood, and I only recognize this one." He clicked the remote again and pointed at the tall spike filling the screen.

"What's that?" demanded Jack.

For a moment Owen just let himself stare at the Captain in surprise, it often stunned him that a man who was so full of knowledge on things like aliens and technology could be so incredibly stupid when it came to medical facts.

"That," he said, turning back to the screen. "Is retcon. Level 9 I would say."

At that Jack's head snapped up: "Torchwood doesn't use Level 9 retcon."

"There's no way this was done by us." Owen shrugged at their questioning looks. "It was mixed with a compound unlike anything in the Torchwood medical records, not even UNIT has anything that comes close. "

Glancing over at Jack he noticed that the other man was wringing his hands on the table, blue eyes staring angrily at the screen. What on the Earth did the man have to be pissed about when it came to a decapitated tourist and a few unknown elements? He was glaring at the readings as if they had done him a personal injustice.

"So somebody out there is making a new form of retcon, administering it to people and then murdering them?" hissed the Captain.

"It certainly looks that way," answered Owen.

"But we don't know that for sure right?" spoke up Gwen. "I mean how do we know that the retcon and the murder are related?"

Owen found himself turning to her slowly, letting the look of disbelief fill his face.

"Are you kidding me ..." He began but was cut off by Tosh.

"Its to much to be a coincidence," she said softly, removing her glasses and fiddling with the arm. "I can try and figure out the exact base compounds."

Jack nodded: "Do it."

"I'll keep trying to track down our victims identity," said Gwen, standing up and quickly striding from the room obviously keen to get away from Jack's bad mood.

Owen let out a deep sigh, stepped out from underneath Jack's glare and followed Gwen.

---

Nik gently ran his fingers through the damp curls at the back of Anthony's neck, and sighed as the other man rested his sweaty forehead on his chest. Sleeping with Anthony was always an adventure, but then again he was the only male lover Nik had and that was quite an extensive list.

"I'd almost forgotten what that was like," muttered Anthony, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin of Nik's cooling chest. "Two years on Lilonia and I'd forgotten how messy sleeping with humans could be."

Nik huffed out a laugh and let his hands run affectionately down his lovers back as he desperately tried to control his breathing. As much as he wanted to believe that Anthony had returned to the Time Agency from whatever war he had been fighting in a distant part of the galaxy because of his concern for the youngest Garnett, he knew that there was more to this.

"So where is she?" he asked, watching as Anthony rested his chin on his chest and looked up at him with twinkling eyes. "Because there is nothing that would make you run from your family other than Sandy."

"You know me to well," said Anthony with a laugh. "You know I love you right?"

"Of course." Nik tightened his fingers in Anthony's hair and pulled him into a deep kiss. "And I love you."

"She's the mother of my child, my only child Nik," whispered Anthony, pulling back slightly.

"And she's my only sister," answered Nik. "She's going to get herself in a lot of trouble Anthony, more than she's already in, and I know she doesn't give a crap about her own safety but she's left people behind. Vulnerable people, we have to bring her back."

"Do you have any idea what she's trying to prevent?" asked Anthony, settling on his side.

"Not a clue," answered Nik. "She's out there changing the course of history, Sandy's never given a damn about paradoxes before and I know for a fact she's not about to start now."

"She's trying to stop a paradox. Whelmstow sent the Tigers back to the 21st Century to kill all twenty-seven survivors of an ancient battle," said Anthony.

Nik shrugged: "So? The Agency's been doing that sort of thing for decades."

"Yes but these were never supposed to die, he's creating a paradox." Anthony traced his fingers down over Nik's stomach. "One that will cause the Time Agency to never exist and neither you or Sandy ever being born."

"Why the fuck would he want to do that?"

"From what my spies have told me Whelmstow is sick of fighting both you and the resistance for the Time Agency, and he's of the mind that if he can't have it nobody can," he said. "He's going to throw you all into non-existence and he doesn't care."

"So what do we do?" demanded Nik. "I know that Sandy is more than capable, but do you think she can take on the Tigers single handedly?"

"She can probably take on the Tigers but not before they kill a few of their targets."

Nik crossed his arms behind his head and considered that. Oh he knew that Sandy was the best assassin in the universe, and he had seen her take on entire armies and walk out with barely a scratch on her, but what she was attempting now was stealth and inconspicuously, something which she wasn't well versed in. Undoubtedly she would kill each member of the cell, but whether or not she managed to complete her task before the paradox was formed was another matter.

"What do you suggest?" he asked.

With a tell-tale smirk on his face Anthony took a hold of Nik's left arm and placed a hand on the vortex manipulator: "We go to the 21st Century and help her finish them off."

"No ... no." Nik pushed himself into a sitting position and glared down at the other man. "No Anthony, I'm in enough shit with Whelmstow as it is."

"Well any minute now you might not exist," answered Anthony. "So what do you want to do?"