Ramblings On Pirates, Alien Fighting Conmen, Time Lords, And Sexy Brits

An Unexpected Alliance- WIP (1/?)

2009-12-19T08:17:35Z

Category: AU Torchwood/Primeval Crossover
Title: “An Unexpected Alliance”
Author: jackdavfan692
Rating: PG-13 to R
Warnings: Slash (nothing sexually graphic), violence, some strong language
Summary: When the Torchwood team goes to investigate some Rift activity on the outskirts of Cardiff, they find more than they bargained for, along with a severely wounded man who appears to have been viciously attacked by a strange creature.

Characters: The TW team (Jack, Ianto, and Gwen, plus Martha and Mickey) and PC Andy; the ARC team (Nick, Connor, Abby, Jenny, Sarah, Becker, and Lester, plus Stephen)

Pairings: Torchwood- Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys; Primeval- Connor/Abby, Nick/Jenny

Spoilers: The first two seasons of Torchwood; the first two seasons of Primeval, plus S3 up to Episode 3

Notes: This is completely AU for both shows, as it takes place some time after my fic Matters of Choice (though you don’t have to have read that to be able to follow this), and Cutter is still alive. Depending on how well it’s received, this story might be the start of a series.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, Primeval, or either series’ characters. I just thought it would be fun to throw the two groups together and have them work as one unit to take care of a problem ;).

As his view of Cutter is obstructed more and more by the gathered predators crowding in closer, Stephen looks away from the door to face his death head on. He retreats step by step, then suddenly feels a pull at his back. He stops where he is and turns around. To his shocked surprise, he sees an open anomaly. He takes only a moment to weigh the pros and cons of going through it, then turns his back completely and sprints inside, thinking to himself, “Better than being torn to pieces by a bunch of hungry predators.” He quickly disappears, with three of the predators— the Raptor pair and one of the hunters from the future— in hot pursuit.

One evening, the Torchwood team, back to its original numbers with the additions of Martha Jones and Mickey Smith, is interrupted from a relaxed meal by the alert sound of the Rift monitor. All five get up immediately from the table to take a look, Mickey in the lead.
“What have we got, Mickey?” Jack asks, his mouth full of pizza.
“Some sort of disturbance on the outskirts of Cardiff.” He answers, the slice of pizza he had grabbed seconds before still in his hand.
“Any video?” Jack continues.
“No, none at all.” Mickey replies.
“We’ll have to be prepared for anything, then.” Jack observes. Turning from Mickey to the rest of the team, he says, “Okay guys, eat and drink up quick. We’ve got work to do.” The tightly packed group around Mickey breaks up and goes back to the table, where, standing up, each team member hurriedly finishes eating. After giving them a few minutes, Jack says, “Alright, let’s go.” The others file out, leaving Jack and Ianto alone.

Pausing in his cleanup, Ianto asks, “Are we all going, sir? Or should I stay behind and keep an eye on things here?”
“Nope, you’re coming, so take care of the dishes you have and meet us outside by the SUV.” Jack answers.
“Yes sir.” Ianto replies, smiling, clearly glad that in spite of the team being back to full strength, he isn’t going to be relegated to the position of Hub watcher again.
Jack, who had begun walking away after answering Ianto’s question, stops and turns back around. “Ianto, come here.” He says, sounding stern. Ianto looks at him uncertainly, but after putting down the pile of dishes, comes over anyway.
“Yes, Jack?” Ianto asks when he reaches him.
Putting his arms around Ianto’s waist and pulling him closer, Jack replies, “Did you really think I’d leave you here?”
“Well, since Martha and Mickey are now part of the team, I just thought…”
“That I’d put you in charge of watching over the Hub again.” Jack finishes for him. Ianto simply nods. His older lover kisses him on the cheek and says, “Then you don’t know me very well.”
“No, I guess I don’t.” Ianto replies, smiling slightly. Suddenly, in the spur of the moment, he puts his arm around Jack’s shoulder and kisses him fully on the mouth.
The two men separate at the same time, and Jack says, “I’m gonna go up and get my coat while you’re finishing down here, then we’ll go, okay?”
“Yes sir.” Ianto answers, nodding.
Before he heads in the direction of the stairs, Jack takes Ianto by the right shoulder and kisses him lightly on the lips. Following that, Jack pulls away, saying, “I’ll be right down.” Ianto nods in response, and Jack turns around, heading for the stairs. With Jack out of sight, Ianto returns to cleaning up the dishes and leftovers from the team’s unfinished dinner. He completes most of the task within five minutes, just in time to see Jack reappear at the top of the stairs, his coat billowing out behind him slightly. In spite of still needing to wipe down the table, Ianto can’t help but stop what he’s doing and watch his captain descend the stairs.
He’d always loved seeing Jack in that coat, from the very evening, nearly two years ago, that he had first met him. Ianto still didn’t understand why, but every once in a while, seeing his lover in it nearly took his breath away, just like it was doing at the moment.
“Ready to go?” Jack asks him.
The sound of Jack’s voice off a little to his right brings Ianto’s attention back to his surroundings, and he replies, “Yes sir.”
“Okay, come on.” Jack responds, brushing past as he starts toward the hatch. Ianto leaves the rag laying on the table and jogs after Jack. He soon catches up, and the two men cover the remaining distance to the hatch, Jack slightly ahead of Ianto. Before they go through, Jack turns to the younger man and hands him a pistol, saying, “I grabbed this for you so you didn’t have to rush through cleaning up in order to get it before I went out the door.”
“Thanks.” Ianto answers.
“Sure.” The brief exchange concluded, the couple goes out the door, and it rolls shut behind them. After stepping off the curb, they head right and walk straight until they reach the corresponding corner of the building, where they go right again. A minute or two later, the pair reaches the SUV and the rest of the team. Each member of the group gets in silently, Jack and Ianto in front, the other three in back. Following the clicking of seatbelts, they drive off.

Forty-five minutes later, Jack, who is sitting behind the wheel, glances up at his rearview mirror and says with annoyance, “Jeez, Mickey, when you said outskirts of Cardiff, you weren’t kidding! How much further?”
Mickey glances at the screen of the portable computer in his lap and replies, “Our location’s right up ahead.” Jack drives for a couple of more minutes, then Mickey says, “Okay, we’re here.” Jack brakes and stops, then puts the SUV in “Park”.

All five members of the team get out at the same time. While they are loading their weapons with ammunition, Jack cautions, “Remember, everyone, we have no idea what we’re dealing with, so be very, very careful.” The quartet nods in unison, then their leader says, “Okay, let’s see what we’ve got.” With that, the team, walking in formation, goes to investigate.
After ten minutes, they reach an area with an almost labyrinthine network of streets and narrow, deserted alleyways.
“I don’t like the look of this at all— no people, no cars, hardly any houses— not much of anything.” Jack comments, almost in a whisper. He turns to Mickey, standing to his right, and asks, “Anything more since we found our location?”
“Just a really faint signal coming from— this direction.” Mickey answers, pointing right slightly to the northeast.
“Then that must be our target. Come on.” The others follow Jack in nervous silence, looking around as they go.
A few minutes later, they are stopped by Mickey, who says, “This is the place.” The team looks up to find itself standing in front of a deserted, empty warehouse.
“Here? Are you sure?” Jack asks.
“Yeah, look.” Mickey replies, showing him the handheld Rift activity tracker.
“Wow! That is some strong activity!” Jack answers. “Mind if I take a closer look?” he asks, his hand outstretched.
“No, not at all.” the younger man replies, handing the device to him.
“Thanks.” The Torchwood leader answers, taking it.
“No problem.” Mickey replies. Jack returns to checking out the device’s screen. Almost immediately after he gets a good look at it, an expression of complete surprise and puzzlement crosses his face.

From his left, Ianto, who had first seen the look, says, “What is it, Jack?”
Shaking his head in bafflement, Jack answers, “I’ve never seen a Rift activity signature like this!”
“Like what?” the young Welshman asks.
“Take a look.” Jack says, handing the device over. “In all my years working for Torchwood, nothing like that has ever shown up. Have you ever seen a signature with that pattern?”
“No, can’t say I have.” Ianto answers, shaking his head.

“What are you two going on about?” Mickey remarks.
“The activity signature on the monitor.” Jack explains, turning to him.
“What about it?” the younger man questions.
“Its pattern is one we’ve never seen before.”
“Oh, got it.” Mickey says, nodding understandingly. “Can I have another look?” he asks.
“Yeah, here you go.” Jack responds, handing it back.
“Thanks.”
“Mmhmm… .”
Mickey takes the same amount of time looking it over as Jack had, then says, “I haven’t been at this for very long, but after hearing what you said about it and looking at it again, you’re right— it is different from anything else we’ve seen.”

“What do you two mean, ‘different’?” Gwen pipes up.
“Mickey, why don’t you show Gwen and Martha what we mean.” Jack suggests.

“Sure.” He says, handing the monitor to Gwen, who is standing to his right.
“So, Gwen, what do you think?” Jack asks, his hands on his hips.

“I see what you mean. It does look really weird.” She replies, nodding. Turning to Martha, Gwen asks, “Martha, do you want to have a look?”

“No, I’m good. That’s your guys’ thing.” She replies blandly. Gwen hands the device back to Mickey, then he and the others wait for further instructions from Jack.

“I think that’s all for now. Let’s go in and find out what we’re dealing with.” Their leader says. The quartet nods as one, then follows him into the warehouse. No sooner do they get a few feet inside, when every one of them, including Jack, stops dead in his or her tracks, eyes wide and mouth agape at the sight in front of them.

“What the heck is that?” Martha exclaims quietly.
“I have no idea.” Jack says in an awestruck tone, shaking his head. He looks at Mickey, still to his right, and asks, “What does the monitoring device say? Any changes?”

“The activity signature is the same, but it’s gotten a lot stronger since we came in here.” The younger man answers.
“How much more?” Jack asks.
“Two times stronger, at least. Possibly more.” Mickey replies.
“That much?” the Torchwood leader exclaims. Mickey nods. “Wow! Whatever that thing is, it emits a whole lot of energy!” Jack comments, looking back at the whitely glowing, roughly circular, shattered glass-like mass.

“So, what now?” Gwen asks curiously.
In response, Jack says, “Well, first, we should probably stay as far away as possible from this…whatever it is, since we don’t know what kind of energy it’s producing and how that might physically affect us. As for what to do next, I’d say since it showed up in the Hub as Rift activity, we should take a quick sweep of this place and see what came through, if anything. Are you guys okay with that?”
“Yeah, sounds like a good idea to me.” Gwen answers.
“Mickey?” Jack continues.

“Yeah, fine with me.” He replies.
“Ianto?” Jack receives no answer. “Ianto, is that…”

Jack is cut off mid-sentence by Ianto saying, “Shhh…, be quiet for a minute. Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Jack says with some annoyance. His demeanor changes as soon as he sees the concerned look on his lover’s face, however. “What is it?” Jack asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
Ianto’s one word response is, “Listen.”
Jack does so for a minute and a half, then suddenly stiffens, saying, “We aren’t alone in here.”
“No, we’re not.” The young Welshman agrees.
“Good catch, Ianto. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Ianto replies in his habitually demure manner.
Jack turns back to the rest of the team and says, “Alright, you heard what Ianto and I said: something, or some things, are in here with us, so a change of plans is in order. Instead of doing a quick survey, we’re going to look this place over from top to bottom and front to back, to see if we can track down what came through this thing. Like I said when we first got here, be very careful. I also want us to stay together, rather than split up. It will take longer to investigate this place fully, but considering we know next to nothing about the situation, I think it would be safer to do it that way. Anyone disagree?” No one gives a sign, either physical or vocal, of such a feeling, so Jack says, “Good. Let’s go.” Each member of the group adjusts his or her position in the sloppily formed line until they are organized into a rough boomerang shape. Arranged in that formation, with Jack and Gwen side by side in front, the team begins its inspection of the warehouse, guided by flashlight.
Twenty minutes into the investigation, Jack stops them, saying, “Wait, don’t move.” The rest of the team stops mid-stride, and he continues. “I heard scraping ahead of us on the floor just now. Did you guys, too?”
“I did.” Ianto answers first.
Following Ianto’s response, Jack asks the three remaining team members the question again, and each one of them, either by gesture or spoken confirmation, answers in the affirmative. Jack then turns back to Ianto and inquires, “Ianto, what direction would you say the noise came from?”
“Mmmm…, probably from the left.” He answers.
Nodding, Jack replies, “Yeah, I thought so too.” Enlarging his gaze to include the others, in addition to Ianto, the Torchwood leader says, “Okay guys, let’s see who or what we’re keeping company with in here.” The team breaks up its boomerang formation and reorganizes itself into a vertical line, then resumes walking. At that very moment, the scraping sound starts again in a nearby corner, then abruptly stops.

“That sounded closer this time.” Gwen remarks nervously.
“Yeah, it did.” Jack agrees. “Are you okay to check it out first, or do you want me to?”
“No, I’m fine with it, but cover me, alright?” Jack nods. Gwen advances forward slowly, still with the flashlight in her hand. When she reaches the supposedly occupied corner, she shines the light into the darkness, where it reveals PC Andy and a tiny group of other police officers huddled together, cowering, their faces pale as those of ghosts’. “Andy? What are you doing way out here?” Gwen exclaims.

“G-Gwen? Is that you?” he stutters, rising slightly from the tight crouch he is in.
“Yeah.” She replies. Noticing the terrified posture of PC Andy and his fellow officers, Gwen adds, “What’s wrong?”
Nearly knocking her over in his gladness to see a familiar face, PC Andy, talking a mile a minute, exclaims, “Oh, thank god! I’m so glad you’re here, it was just horrible, like watching a real life slasher film! I don’t ever want to witness something like that again, it was just…”
The terrified police officer is suddenly quieted by the firm but comforting touch of hands on his shoulders, and Gwen saying gently, “Andy, calm down. Just relax and tell me what happened, from the beginning to now.”
His breathing and heart rate slow little by little until both are back to normal, then he begins his account of the events. “Close to an hour ago, we were phoned about some sort of animal pursuing a man around here, so we came to investigate the report. We saw the guy first, hiding in one of the alleys. He looked rough, but seemed polite and non-threatening, so we asked him if he was the person our contact was talking about. He said he probably was, that it couldn’t possibly be anyone else, so we told him we’d do everything we could to help him get away from the animal that was chasing him. He didn’t seem too keen on the idea, but he accepted our offer anyway.”
Gwen interrupts Andy from giving his account for a minute and asks, “Did he tell you why he had reservations about it?”
“No, but we found out the reason soon enough.” He answers.
“You did?” Gwen inquires. Andy nods. “Okay, go on.”
“Everything went fine for awhile, but then the creature showed up.”
“What did it look like? Was it a Weevil?” Gwen asks.
“No, it definitely wasn’t a Weevil, or even one of the other usual spooky-dos of yours we see. It looked like something from a blooming nightmare! It was this monstrosity of a thing I hope to god I’ll never have to see again!”
“So some sort of alien we’ve never encountered before, then.” Gwen muses. Andy nods. “Okay, what did you do after you saw it?”
“I split my crew into two groups, thinking it would confuse the creature. About half were with me, and the other half were with our subject.”
Gwen nods, then asks, “Did the plan work?”
“Hardly at all.” Andy replies, shaking his head mournfully. “Some of my men were armed, but that didn’t even do any good. They were barely able to each take two shots at the creature before it was on them, biting and ripping them to bits! It was horrific!”
“How many would you say you lost in all?” Gwen asks.
“A little more than half, probably.” Andy answers.
“While all that was happening, what was this man you were trying to help doing? Did he leave it all up to you and your men, or did he take part in fighting off this thing?”
“Oh no, he helped a lot, or at least as much as he could without being properly armed himself. When he saw how badly things were going, he told those of us who were left to run as fast and far away as we could, while he kept the creature distracted. It was a really stupid move, but a brave one, too. Anyway, we took the advice and ran, so that’s how we ended up in here.”
Gwen nods again thoughtfully, then inquires, “Do you have any ideas about what might have happened to him after that?”
“If he’s lucky, the meal the creature made of my men was enough to fill it up, and it just disabled him and dragged him back to wherever it sleeps. More likely, though, he was torn limb from limb and eaten. I don’t think you’ll be finding any remains.”
“No, you’re probably right.” Gwen says, sighing. “Thanks, Andy.” He nods. “Are you okay?” she adds.
“Okay as I can be after going through that sort of thing.” He answers. After a momentary pause, he asks, “The rest of Torchwood is with you, right? It’s not just you who’s here?”
“Right.” Gwen replies. “I’m gonna go get them, and I’ll be right back, okay?” she explains. Andy nods understandingly, and Gwen goes off to find the others.
It doesn’t take her long to catch up with them. Almost as soon as she leaves Andy in the shadows of the corner, Gwen meets up with Jack.
“Is your friend okay?” he asks.
“Andy?” Jack nods. “Yeah, mostly.” Gwen answers.
“What do you mean, ‘mostly’?” Jack responds.
“What came through that thing at the entrance is some sort of alien, but it’s an extremely dangerous one we’ve never encountered before.”
“What makes you describe it that way?” Jack asks.
“When I found Andy and what’s left of the crew that came with him, they all looked terrified. Whatever this creature is, it’s so deadly that even Andy’s afraid of it, and he’s seen enough weird, otherworldly things that hardly anything can phase him.”
Nodding, Jack says, “That is troubling.” He stops for a moment, appearing to be considering something. Finally, he says, “Okay, before we try to catch up with this creature, we need to get your friend and his crew away from here and out of harm’s way. Is he still where you left him?”
“Yeah, come on.” Gwen replies. Jack and the others follow her, arriving back at the police officers’ hiding place within a couple of minutes. Looking into the darkened corner, Gwen says, “Alright, Andy, you and your men can come out now.” The form of the young police officer, flanked by three other figures, materializes out of the shadows.
Upon emerging from the corner, the first person Andy sees is Jack, standing to the right of Gwen. “Hi there.” The young officer says neutrally. Jack nods back politely. “So, what’s the plan?” Andy continues, looking back and forth between Gwen and Jack. It is eventually the latter who answers him.
“We’re going to get you and your men out of here and to safety, then go from there.”
“And the creature? What about that?” Andy asks.
“We’ll worry about that once you and your team are out of the way.”
“Okay. Thank you.” Andy replies.
“Sure.” Jack says. “So, how many of you are there?”
“Just us four.”
“Four out of how many?”
“About ten, including me.” Andy answers.
A look of amazement crosses Jack’s face and he asks, “Seriously?” Andy nods. “Wow, that’s…a lot of losses! Okay, um, are any of you armed?”
“Not one of us.” Andy confesses.
“Alright, that makes things a bit more difficult.”

“More than a bit!” Mickey, standing to Gwen’s left, remarks.
“You’re right.” Jack agrees, looking at him. “But part of our responsibility is to make sure anybody caught in the middle of these situations isn’t harmed, so as much as we might prefer to, we can’t just let this man and his team be finished off by whatever’s lurking around in here.”

Seeing some growing tension between the two men, Martha, on Jack’s right, asks, “So, how are we going to do this?”
“We need to spread out enough that we can protect PC Davidson and his men, and keep an eye out for our alien. The best way to do that is get into our earlier formation, with them gathered in the middle.”
“Sounds good so far.” Martha responds. “What else?”
“Each one of us should focus on protecting one of them. That way, one or two won’t be more vulnerable to attack than the others.”
“That plan works for me. Guys?” The others, who had been listening during the exchange, nod.
The team arranges itself into the boomerang formation again, and PC Andy, having heard the entire conversation, instructs his three remaining officers to join him in the center of the quintet. When that has been done, the group sets off.
The next several minutes go by without incident, then Ianto glances up. His eyes widen in fear, and he shouts, “Jack, look out!” His lover has barely begun formulating a response, when he is knocked violently onto his back by a swift moving, grayish figure. When Jack lifts his head to look at his attacker, he is greeted by a mouth full of long, dagger-like teeth in a seemingly eyeless head.
The creature gives a shriek, then crouches to carry out another pouncing strike. As Jack scrabbles back in the manner of a crab in order to escape the oncoming attack, he glances back briefly at the others and shouts, “Get them out of here right now!” Gwen, Martha, and Mickey turn around immediately and start leading PC Andy and his team away, but Ianto hesitates.
Looking back and stopping for a moment, Martha yells, “Ianto, come on!”
“No, you go ahead.” He replies firmly.
“But…!”
“Just go! We’ll be fine!” he says, more forcefully. “Go!” he finally shouts. Martha takes one last look at the young Welshman, preparing to fight to save the life of the person dearest to him, then turns back around and continues on her way.
Ianto, satisfied that Martha won’t come back, turns to the scene in front of him. He looks up briefly, and for the first time, notices the dingy, whitish glow of fluorescent lights, mounted on the ceiling. Glad he doesn’t have to waste precious time figuring out a source of light, Ianto springs into action. With his pistol in hand, he charges forward in a run, firing a series of shots at the creature as he draws nearer to his struggling lover. After being grazed and nicked by several bullets, the future predator backs off. With one last enraged shriek, it leaps onto one of the warehouse’s foundational supports and climbs up it, finally disappearing among the building’s rafters. Ianto stays where he is, looking around and listening for any telltale signs and sounds that the creature is coming back. After two minutes of standing stock-still, he rushes over to see how Jack fared in his fight with the creature.
“Jack, are you alright?” Ianto asks worriedly, crouching down next to his lover and putting a hand on his arm.
“Other than having a hell of a backache and being scratched all over, I’m fine, yeah.” Jack replies blandly. “Thanks for the help.” He adds.
Ianto nods, then asks, “Want a hand getting up?”
“Yeah, that would be great.” Jack answers, sitting up slowly.
Noticing the careful manner in which his lover had raised himself up to his current posture, Ianto, the tone of concern creeping into his voice again, questions, “Are you sure you aren’t hurt any worse than you just told me?”
“Positive.” Jack answers reassuringly. Ianto still doesn’t appear convinced, so Jack adds, “I’m okay, I promise.” To further prove he’s being honest with Ianto, Jack kisses him lovingly on the cheek. Jack’s reassurances finally do the trick, and Ianto takes him by the shoulder and helps him to his feet. Jack steadies himself without any problem, but is then caught off guard by Ianto fiercely wrapping him in an embrace and giving him an impassioned kiss of relief.
Following his outburst of emotion, Ianto lays his head on Jack’s right shoulder and chokes out, “I thought for sure you’d met your match in that creature that attacked you.” After expressing that fear, he lifts his head off Jack’s shoulder and presses it against his chest.
Taking his left hand from around the young Welshman’s waist placing it, palm down, on the back of his head, Jack reassures him, “Nope, not this time.” As one final gesture of comfort before returning to business, Jack kisses his young lover on top of the head. “You okay?” he asks, gently lifting it and looking into the younger man’s eyes. Ianto nods. “Good.” Jack adds kindly, kissing him on the forehead. The intimate moment passes as suddenly as it had arisen, and Jack returns to the situation at hand, asking, “Did Martha, Mickey, and Gwen get our frightened little group of law enforcement officers out of the creature’s reach?”
“I think they did, yes.” Ianto answers.
“Good, then we’d better catch up with them.”
“Yes we should.” Ianto agrees.
“There’s one little problem, though.” Jack remarks, looking around.
“What’s that?” the young Welshman asks, slightly bewildered.
“They left with the flashlight. How are we going to find our way back without some form of light?”
“Not a problem.” Ianto answers, smiling slightly.
“How’s that?” Jack asks. “Did you bring another one with you?”
“No. It turns out the lights in here still work. Look.” The younger man answers, glancing above him.
Jack follows Ianto’s gaze, and upon seeing the fluorescents above them, says, “How about that?” Looking from the ceiling back to Ianto, Jack declares, “Good. I guess we’d better get going, then.”
“Yep.” Ianto agrees with a nod. Following that brief exchange, the couple starts back, both men constantly scanning their surroundings for any sign of the future predator.

They return to the warehouse’s entrance and their anxiously waiting colleagues twenty minutes later.
“Are you guys okay?” Martha asks concernedly.
“Yeah, we’re fine.” Jack answers. “Did you guys get PC Davidson and the remainder of his crew out of here okay?”

“Yeah. We escorted them about halfway to their vehicles, then they went the rest of the way on their own. They took off as soon as they got into their vehicles.” Gwen answers.
“Sounds like they were pretty shaken up.” Jack observes.
“Yeah” Gwen agrees, nodding.
After a pause, Jack muses, “It’s a completely understandable reaction, though. That was one nasty alien. Probably the nastiest one I’ve ever encountered, actually.”
“Really?” Gwen asks.
“Yeah.” The Torchwood leader answers, nodding.

“Then we’d better hope it didn’t follow the two of you and is lurking around somewhere.” Martha remarks. “It didn’t, did it? Follow you, I mean?”
“No.” Jack answers, shaking his head. “The last we saw of it, it was scrambling up one of the foundational supports, then disappeared into the rafters. We kept an eye out for it on the way back, but never saw it again, so I think we’re safe.”
“That’s comforting to know.” Martha says with relief. “Shall we head back?”
“Yeah.” Jack says. “But we should still stay alert and be careful. The fact that Ianto and I didn’t see it again doesn’t mean we aren’t going to encounter it at all on the way back to the SUV. In other words, stay focused and watch out for it. It would be a good idea if we don’t go back to the SUV the same way we came here, too. Everyone agree with that?” The rest of the team nods. “Okay, then let’s go.” Jack concludes.

While the team is carefully making its way through the various alleyways in order to return to the SUV, Martha sees a body lying on its side on the pavement.
After checking to make sure her colleagues are close enough so she doesn’t have to yell, Martha calls, Jack, guys, come here! I found someone.” The other four come running, Jack in the lead.
When he reaches her, Jack asks, “You said you found someone?”
“Yeah.” Martha replies, nodding.
“Possibly a witness?” Jack wonders aloud.
“Depends on what shape they’re in.” the young doctor answers. Turning to Gwen, Martha asks, “Gwen, would you hand me the flashlight?”

“Sure.” Gwen says, giving it to her.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
Crouching down, Martha says, “Okay, looks like we have a white male, probably mid-thirties, and it seems he was attacked by our creature.”

“Good start. What else? Is he injured? Alive, dead?” Jack inquires.
Moving the flashlight along the length of the body, Martha says, “He’s seriously wounded: lots of deep cuts, mostly on his arms, back, and chest, probably from claws or teeth; it looks like he hasn’t had anything substantial to eat for a couple of days, and he might be a little dehydrated. In other words, he’s in pretty bad shape.”
“How bad?” Jack asks concernedly.
“Let me see.” Martha replies. Holding the flashlight with one hand, she reaches down with the other and takes the man’s pulse. After a minute, Martha takes her fingers off the side of his neck, and whistling with relief, comments, “We got to him just in time. His pulse is faint, but it’s there.”
“Can we get him to the Hub in time to save him?” Jack asks.
“Yeah, if we bring the car over here and drive fast enough to get back into the main part of town in half an hour or less.”
Nodding, Jack answers, “We can do that. I’ll go get the SUV.” He then turns to Ianto and asks, “Will you cover me, just in case our nightmare creature from hell decides to try and pick us off again?”

“I’d be glad to.” Ianto replies.
“Okay, come on.” Jack says. Before the pair starts off, he glances at the others and says, “We’ll be back as quick as we can.” Martha nods, and the two men go off to retrieve the SUV.

“Anything we can do to help?” Gwen asks.
“Well, some of his wounds are fresh, so if there’s a way we can slow the bleeding until Jack and Ianto come back, that would be good.”
“We’d better hope they get back soon, then, because none of us has anything that would work.”

“We don’t, no, but he does.” Mickey remarks.
“What do you mean?” Gwen asks, confused.
“His clothes, of course.” The young man replies.
“He needs them to keep warm or something, though, doesn’t he?” Gwen says. She then looks down at Martha and asks, “Martha, you’re the doctor. What do you think?”

“Both of you are right, but he could easily die while we’re waiting. He’s lost a lot of blood as it is. Anymore, and he could be done for, so I think it would be best to take Mickey’s suggestion.”
“Alright.” Gwen answers, nodding. “So, what should we use?”
“His shirt, I think.” Martha replies.
“His shirt?”
“Yeah. The thing is in tatters anyway, so it isn’t really doing him much good.”
“True.” Gwen agrees. “So, are we going to use strips of it on all those wounds, or just some of them?”
“Just on the ones bleeding the most.” Martha answers.
“Got it.” Gwen says understandingly.
“I need to turn him over onto his back before we can do anything.” Martha explains. Gwen nods slightly and takes a few steps back so Martha has plenty of room to work. When Gwen is out of the way enough, Martha carefully rolls the man onto his back. “There, now let’s get to work.” The young doctor declares. Gwen and Mickey both crouch down, one on either side of the man. While Martha holds the flashlight, the pair sets to making crude bandages out of the remains of the man’s shirt. The parts of his body where tourniquets are feasible are dressed in that manner, with some instruction by Martha; everywhere else, pressure to slow the bleeding is applied, or parts of the shirt covering any wounds are allowed to remain and soak up oozing blood.

Five anguishing minutes later, Jack and Ianto return in the SUV. As he gets out of the driver’s side, Jack asks Martha, “How’s he doing?”
Martha checks the man’s pulse again, then answers, “He’s still with us, amazingly enough, and there doesn’t seem to be any change for the worse in his pulse.”
“Sounds like he’s a fighter, that’s good.” Jack comments. Martha nods in response. “He doesn’t have much protection form the elements, though, especially not his upper body.”
“Yeah. Some of that was our doing, though.” Martha admits. “Some of his wounds were recent and still bleeding significantly, so I thought it would be better to put him at risk of exposure, rather than let him bleed to death.”
“That was probably a good call.” Jack responds, nodding. “I’ll tell you what: Let’s cover him with my coat and move him into the SUV that way.”
Martha, surprised at Jack’s suggestion, asks, “Are you sure? It might get stained.”
“No problem. It can easily be washed.” He says, shrugging. “A few stains don’t really matter when a man’s life is hanging by a thread.”
“Totally agree with you.” Martha answers, nodding.
“I figured you would.” Jack replies, removing his coat and personally draping it over the unknown man’s body. “Are we ready to go?” the Torchwood leader adds. The others nod, then he says, “Okay. Ianto, Mickey, how about you two carry him over to the SUV.” The two youngest team members nod, and the younger of the pair joins his colleague near the body. One positions himself at the man’s head, and the other chooses the feet. “Gwen, Martha, I want the two of you to get in the backseat and keep him from being jostled around during the drive back to the Hub.” Jack instructs.

“Do you want us to get in the car now?” Gwen asks.
“Mmmm…, no. Wait until Mickey and Ianto bring him over.”
“Gotcha.” Gwen answers. A minute or two later, under the watchful eye of Martha, Mickey and Ianto carry the man to the SUV. The two women then take a seat in the back and wait for further instructions.
Before the three men get into the vehicle, Jack asks Mickey and Ianto, “Which of you would rather sit in the back with Gwen, Martha, and our victim?”

“I will.” Ianto volunteers.
“Are you sure?” Jack asks, the look of slight concern on his face giving away his worry that sitting with the body of a severely wounded person in his lap, Ianto’s memories of Canary Wharf, the bloody body of his half-cyberized girlfriend, and the dying Tosh will come back with a vengeance and torture him, minimal though the effect may be.
“Yeah.” The young Welshman replies, the expression on his face reassuring Jack that it won’t happen.
“Okay, you’ve got it.” Jack answers before returning to his place on the driver’s side. Ianto and Mickey take their chosen seats in the SUV moments later. After the sound of fastening seatbelts and the engine starting, Jack slams on the gas, sending the vehicle speeding out of the virtually deserted neighborhood.

The team returns to the Hub in thirty minutes flat, Jack electing to park the SUV in back. He gets out first, and after opening the passenger door on Martha’s side of the vehicle, instructs her to check the stranger’s pulse once more. “So, what’s the report?” Jack asks after giving Martha ample time to do the task.
“He’s still hanging in there.” She answers.
“Man, the guy is tough!” Jack exclaims, shaking his head in awe.
Shrugging, Martha replies, “There are few things in this world stronger than the will to survive.”
“True.” Jack agrees, nodding. “Anything more?”
“Yeah, one other thing. Not only does he still have a pulse, but it’s gotten a bit stronger since I last checked it.”
“Really?” Martha nods.” That’s interesting. I wonder what it is he feels he has to stick around for?” Jack muses.
“I haven’t got a clue, but whatever it is, it’s what’s giving him the determination to stay alive.”
“Mmhmmm…” After a brief pause, the Torchwood leader says, “Well, we’d better get him inside.” Martha nods. Jack notices Ianto following Gwen out of the vehicle and asks him, “Ianto, is there something inside we might be able to use as a stretcher?”

“Probably, but it’s going to take time to find it, and I’d guess that’s something we don’t have.” The young Welshman answers. He looks across the way at Martha, still in the same spot, and asks, “Right?” the young woman nods.
“Good point, I didn’t think of that.” Jack admits. “We’ll need to carry him in, then. Ianto, are you still up to doing that?”
“Yeah.” He answers, nodding. “How do you want us to be positioned?”
“I’ll take his head, shoulders, and upper back. You can take his feet and legs.”
“Oh, you’re going to help me carry him, rather than Mickey?”
Nodding, Jack replies, “Yeah. He’s got a computer to carry, I don’t have a thing.”
“That’s true.” Ianto agrees.
“Are you ready?” Jack asks.
“Yeah, just let me get out of the way so you can grab him.” The younger man says. He takes several steps back, then waits.
Leaning into the side of the vehicle where the man’s upper body is within reach, Jack grabs him under the arms and gently drags him off the seat, lifting him just before the upper section of his body reaches the end of it. Within seconds of Jack doing so, Ianto is at the ready, waiting to take hold of the man’s lower body. Once it is within reach, Ianto grabs it.
“Do you have a good grip on him?” Jack asks, looking across the way at Ianto.
“Yep.” He answers.
“Okay, let’s take him in.” Jack says. Ianto nods, and with Martha walking alongside to keep an eye on the man’s condition, they carry him into the Hub. Once inside, the trio finds Mickey wheeling out a gurney.

“Gwen and I thought it would be good to have one ready so you two wouldn’t have to carry him all the way into the medical lab.” He explains.
Grinning, Jack says, “This is why I love you guys. You’re always thinking ahead and ready to work as a team.” He pauses for a moment, which gives Gwen the chance to join them. Looking at her and Mickey, Jack then says, “Thanks for the help, guys.”
“Sure.” Mickey says, nodding.

“Yeah, no problem.” Gwen adds, also nodding.

Looking from her and Mickey to Ianto, Jack says, “Shall we carry him over and put him down?” Ianto nods. The pair carries the unconscious, wounded stranger the rest of the distance, then Jack says, “Okay, now we have to lift him.” Ianto nods again. “Ready, one, two, three!” The two men lift their burden without too much difficulty, then lay him down on the gurney, his back on its surface. “There we go.” Jack says, picking up his coat, which had fallen on the floor while he and Ianto were putting the man down. “He’s all yours, Martha.”

“I’m on it.” She assures him, walking quickly over. After Martha has reached the gurney and its occupant, Mickey obligingly starts pushing it in the direction of the medical lab, the young doctor walking alongside.

Looking away from the pair (whose figures had already begun shrinking, due to their rapid pace and the distance they’d covered because of it), Gwen asks Jack, “Anything more we need to do?”
“I don’t think so, not tonight.” He answers. “You can head home if you want.”
“I think I will, after we finish dinner. Assuming there’s food leftover, that is.”
“I think there is.” Jack says, nodding. Turning to Ianto, he asks, “Isn’t there?”

“Yes, plenty.” Ianto answers, giving a nod. “Shall we go upstairs?”
“Yeah, let’s” Jack agrees, beginning to walk in the direction of the stairs. Ianto and Gwen quickly follow after him, each eventually taking up a position on either side of him.

Meanwhile, Martha, alone in the medical lab after Mickey’s departure, is in the process of conducting a more thorough examination of her new patient. In the glaring light of the room, the direness of the man’s condition and the ravages of his recent, so far mysterious experience are clearly obvious. He’s pale and unshaven, his slate gray t-shirt is in ribbons, his chest, arms, and back are crisscrossed with cuts, some old and in the process of healing, others relatively fresh and still red, and he appears to be less than his normal weight. Had any of his colleagues in London been present, they would hardly have recognized him.
Looking at him with sad awe and shaking her head, Martha murmurs to herself, “My god, what on earth have you been through?” After carefully removing the remains of the man’s shirt, Martha cleans and dresses his unhealed wounds. Following the completion of that, she starts two IV’s: one for administering fluids to rehydrate him, and another to restore his electrolytes and enzymes. The young doctor tucks the blanket Mickey had provided earlier further around the man’s body to keep him warm. Before leaving to join the others and finish eating, Martha bends down and quietly whispers in the man’s ear, “I don’t know what it is you want to resolve so badly that you’re willing yourself to live, but it’s obviously important to you, so keep hanging in there.” With those words of encouragement, and after putting away her lab coat, Martha departs to join the others.

"An Unexpected Alliance" Illustration

2009-12-09T09:45:01Z

This is an illustration for an AU crossover fic that involves two of my fave TV shows, specifically, Torchwood and Primeval. It's going to be a little while before I post the fic itself, but I'm getting close to a good stopping point. Until then, anyone who's interested, this might whet your appetite a bit ;).

Note: The guy in the back (Stephen Hart to you Primeval fans) isn't pointing his rifle at anyone. Because of a lack of good reference pics, I had to draw it that way.

Matters of Choice- WIP (5/?)

2009-10-12T09:36:00Z

Title: "Matters of Choice"
Author: jackdavfan692
Category: AU (Sort Of)
Rating: PG-13 to R, mostly due to a bit of strong language and slightly suggestive dialogue.

Warnings: None for this part, really.
Summary: Martha and the team's theory about Owen's transformation is somewhat confirmed during Martha's examination of him. The team begins taking measures to make Owen more comfortable while they finish up the case.

Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys, Owen, Martha, and Mickey
Spoilers: S2, including "Exit Wounds".
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, Doctor Who, or any of either series' characters. They're all just conduits for encouraging my writing creativity 8).
Only a few days before Gwen’s snatching by Owen’s hench-Weevils, the couple had gotten embroiled in a disagreement about that very thing, as well as Gwen’s apparent preference to spend most of her free time at work, instead of at home. The chief reason it had not been an issue up to that point was that Rhys hadn’t yet felt like making it one. For all the spats that had arisen between the couple since Gwen had revealed the nature of her job to him, this could be said about Rhys: he was totally devoted to her, and no matter what decisions she made, or how much he disagreed with them, he would stand behind her completely. Still, even he had his limits. On the day of the argument, he’d reached them, and had chosen to confront Gwen about the issue. As with their other recent discussions that had disintegrated into arguments, the conversation had begun well, then one person became defensive, the other annoyed, and things went downhill from there. The couple eventually resolved the disagreement, but the issue had been added to the “lingering” category, and no doubt would come up again in the future.
At the present moment, however, that was far from either Gwen’s or Rhys’s mind. “Ready to go?” Gwen asks.
“Yeah.” Rhys replies, nodding.
“Okay, come on.” Before the couple leaves the room, Gwen turns to Rhys and kisses him on the cheek, a gesture he returns gladly. They then clasp each other’s hands, exit the room, and head down the stairs.

In the Hub’s medical exam room, some minutes after both couples had gone their separate ways for the remainder of the morning, Owen, almost completely overwhelmed with a sense of déja vu, is sitting on the edge of the examination table, waiting for Martha to begin her battery of tests.
Pausing for a few seconds in her gathering of equipment for the tests, Martha says, “Owen, before I start, I want to ask you something, doctor to doctor.
“What’s that?” he replies in a somewhat upbeat tone, glad he isn’t simply going to be treated like an anonymous study subject during the examination.
“From a medical perspective, what would you say you physical condition is?” Owen looks at her with confusion, not understanding what she’s asking. “I’ll put it another way: Are you physically dead still, or are you a fully living, breathing individual?”
"Oh, I see what you mean.” Owen answers. “Now, I’m as alive as you are.”
“Okay. So I’ll need to use an anaesthetic for the labs, then?” Martha asks.
“That would be nice, yeah.” Owen answers with annoyance.
“Got it.” Martha glances at Mickey and says, “Almost ready, Mickey?”

“Yep, whenever you are.” He replies.
“Great, then let’s get started.” Martha says. Mickey nods to let her know he’s ready. Beginning with his pulse, Martha checks Owen’s vitals, Mickey dutifully typing in the numbers as his female colleague recites them aloud. The process takes all of twenty-five minutes.

Before Martha begins the second part of the exam, Owen asks, “So, what’s the preliminary diagnosis?”
“Some of your vitals are above the normal human range, so you’re something entirely different.”
Nodding, the former medical officer replies, “I thought as much. In which ones is that most noticeable?”
“Your heart rhythm and pulse stood out the most. I’ll investigate those things further when I start analyzing your results in more detail.” Martha ceases talking while she sets up equipment for doing blood work, resuming when she is done. “Just out of curiosity, Owen, what, in your medical opinion, is responsible for those two preliminary results?”
“What do I think?” Martha nods. “It’s one of two things- Either I’m nervous, and it’s contributing to my elevated heart rate and pulse, or what happened to me physically altered my body externally and internally.”
“Which would you say is most likely?” Martha asks.
“The second possibility.” Owen replies.
Martha nods in agreement, then requests, “If you’ll take off your jacket and roll up one of your shirt sleeves, we’ll get started.” While Owen does so, Martha glances at Mickey and says, “If you wanna go, you can. I don’t think I’ll need you to enter more new data right away.”

“You sure?” Mickey asks.
“Yeah. Thanks for all the help.”
“Sure, no problem. Let me know if you need me again.”
“I will.” Martha replies, nodding.
“Okay, I’ll see you later.”
“Yep.” Martha looks up for a moment, and noticing there isn’t a single sound to be heard above them, smiles with amusement for a second. She returns her attention to the task at hand, and noticing Mickey is on his way back up the stairs, calls, “Oh, Mickey?”
He stops, and looking back at her, answers, “Yeah?”
“I’d steer clear of Jack’s office and any seemingly empty rooms upstairs.”
Mickey looks at her with confusion and asks, “Why’s that?”
“One of those places might not actually be unoccupied.”
“What do you mean?” Mickey continues.
“Jack’s not in his office, and Ianto doesn’t seem to be anywhere nearby.”
“Okay, why should that worry me?” Mickey questions.
“You do know they’re together, don’t you?” Martha asks.
“Yeah, Ianto sort of told me so the day I arrived here.” Abruptly, what Martha is hinting at hits him. Flabbergasted, he exclaims, “No way! Doing that during work hours is just… it’s unprofessional!”
Martha just shrugs and smiles, then says, “You get used to that sort of thing when you work here.”
His initial shock now passed, Mickey, shaking his head, chuckles and comments, “Blimey, this is quite a place to work in! Co-workers shagging each other in rooms during off hours, dinosaurs being used as guard dogs, aliens being kept in cells for observation- I think I might like it here! It’ll take some getting used to, though.”
“You will soon enough. I’ve only been here a few weeks , and I’m already used to what happens around here.” Martha replies, smiling.

“Yes you will. Don’t get too comfortable, though- something’s bound to happen that’s completely unexpected, even in a workplace like Torchwood.” Owen, who had paused in his preparation when the subject of Jack and Ianto’s non-work relationship came up, remarks in a both fond and resentful tone.
“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” Mickey answers.
“No problem.” Owen returns, as he finishes removing his jacket and rolls up his left shirt sleeve.
Mickey, at a loss as to what else to say, looks back at Martha and asks, “You’re positive you don’t need anymore help?”
“Yep, thanks though.” She replies.
“Okay, I’ll be off then.” Mickey says, turning back around and restarting his ascent of the stairs.
“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” Martha calls after him, giving a quick wave.
“Yep.” Mickey answers, returning the gesture.

Mickey’s departure brings Martha’s attention back to what she’s doing, and she says to Owen, “Ready?”
“Yep, poke away.” Her patient replies in a deadpan manner.
Martha hunts for a vein in Owen’s left arm. Not being able to find one after searching for a few minutes, Martha informs, “This might take awhile.”
“What’s the problem?” Owen asks with annoyance.
“I can’t seem to find a vein anywhere on your arm.”
“Are you bloody kidding me? Not one?”
Shaking her head, Martha replies, “Not a single one. Or at least, nothing that looks like one to me.”
Owen sighs resignedly, then says, “Alright. I think there’s a semi-complete anatomical diagram of a Weevil in here somewhere. That could be helpful.” He slides off the examination table to help Martha find the document. For the next several minutes, nothing but the rustling of papers and the opening and closing of drawers is heard.
After looking for nearly an hour and having no luck, Martha, now somewhat frustrated, asks, “Are you sure it was in here?”
Owen takes a few minutes to think back to where he had last seen the paper, then he replies, “Yeah, I’m sure. It was always in here, actually. Jack must’ve taken it and put it someplace else, like in his office, maybe.”
After giving an irritated sigh, Martha says, “I guess I’ll have to pick a spot and hope for the best, then. Sorry.” Owen just shrugs and starts walking back to the examination table, Martha following him. As Owen is about to sit back up on the edge of it, the sound of oncoming footsteps is audible above them. It continues for a few more minutes, then stops. The pair looks up to see Jack, holding an empty coffee cup in each hand, leaning on the rail, his hair in slight disarray, his shirt partly unbuttoned, and his belt loosely fastened.

Looking down at Martha, Jack asks, “How are the tests going?”
“Quite a bit slower than I’d like, actually.” She answers.
“Why’s that?” Jack inquires.
“Whatever happened to Owen here seems to have removed any visible trace of major veins. Either that, or it’s right in front of me and I’m just not identifying the feature correctly.”

“I thought that partially finished Weevil anatomy chart might help her, but we can’t seem to find it.” Owen explains. “Do you have it in your office?”

“Yeah, I do. Hang on, and I’ll get it.” Jack answers, nodding. He turns around and heads toward his office, his footsteps echoing off the metal catwalk.

“You were right. It looks like they’re busy up there.” Owen remarks to Martha somewhat snidely.
“Right about what?” Martha, who had only been half listening, asks.
“About, you know…” Owen replies, jerking his head in the direction Jack had just gone.
“Oh, yeah. They’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, I’m guessing because of what happened to you and Tosh.” Martha answers.
“What gave you that idea?” Owen asks with curiosity.
“Just based on how Gwen told me everyone’s been trying to cope, and what I’ve seen since I arrived.”
Owen nods, then asks, “Like what?”
“When I first got here, I knew something was bothering Jack as soon as I saw him.”
“How do you mean? Did he look different or something?”
“No, I didn’t see an obvious physical change in him. He just didn’t seem like himself.”
“In what way?” Owen asks.
“He was really somber that day, more than I’ve ever seen him. He was his usual cheerful self when he greeted me, but even that seemed a little forced.”
Owen nods again, then says, “What else has he done that’s given you the impression he’s upset about what happened to me and Tosh?”
“The way he greeted you when you and Gwen got here a few hours ago.”
“What was unusual about that? Isn’t that how he greets everyone he’s close to in some way?”
“It wasn’t him doing it that struck me. It was the way he did it. There was something about it that differed from how he’s hugged me and other people he hasn’t seen in a while.”
“What, exactly?” Owen asks.
Martha thinks for a few minutes, trying to come up with the right words. Unable to, she says, “I can’t really describe it. It was just… There was something more to that hug than someone just physically expressing how much he’d missed a person he hadn’t seen in a long time.” Martha adds, “It looked to me like he told you something, too.”
Giving another nod, Owen answers, “Yeah, he did.”
“What did he say, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“He said, ‘I’m glad we didn’t lose you after all’ “. Owen replies.
“Well, there you are. I think that’s a pretty clear indication your supposed death upset him.”
“I guess you’re right.” Owen says, nodding in agreement. “Anyway, you said Jack seemed different when you first arrived.” Martha nods. “How does he seem now?”

“He’s brightened some since you got here, but still isn’t quite the same.” Martha pauses in thought momentarily, then says, “He could perk up more, though- You have only just gotten here. After awhile, seeing you around and knowing you actually are alive, he might start to come out of his grief a little.”
“Maybe so.” Owen agrees. Jack ceases being the subject of discussion when the sound of his boots hitting the metal walkway is heard above once again. He comes into view five minutes later, and meets Martha halfway down the stairs.

“Here you go.” Jack says, handing Martha the paper.
“Thanks. This should move things along a bit.” She replies, glancing at it.
“No problem. I’ll check in with you later today to see where things are at, okay?” Jack responds.
“Yep. I’ll be ready.” Martha assures him.
“Great, I’ll talk to you then.”
“Yeah.” Martha answers, nodding. With that, Jack, his hands in the pockets of his pants, as is his habit, turns around and heads back up the stairs. As he climbs them one by one, then slowly moves out of sight, Martha heads in the opposite direction and returns to the patiently waiting Owen. “Alright, let’s take a look at this.” The potential replacement medical officer remarks, examining the chart closer.

“Something else you might wanna do before you start is look at that and a human anatomy chart for comparison, since I’m not fully one or the other.” Her predecessor suggests.
Looking up at Owen for a moment, Martha, out of the blue, says, “You miss doing this job, don’t you?”
The remark gives Owen pause, and slouching his shoulders, he says, “I’m advising you too much about what to do, aren’t I?”
“No, no, it’s alright. I don’t mind. If it were you in my position, I’d be acting the same way, so don’t worry about it.” Martha reassures him.
“Thanks. Feel free to tell me to shut the hell up if my suggestions start becoming more like orders, though.” Owen replies dryly.
“Oh, I will, believe me. Don’t worry about that.” Martha answers. She pauses for a moment, then in a friendlier tone, adds, “That’s a good idea, by the way- comparing the two charts. Thanks.”
“Sure.” Owen answers.
“So, would something of that sort be kept in here, too?”
“Yeah, and that we shouldn’t need to hunt for.” Owen says, dropping down off the perch he had just returned to. After reaching the floor, he joins Martha in searching for the other chart
They find it twenty minutes later, buried in a stack of papers stuffed in a drawer. The necessary document recovered, Martha begins looking at it side by side with the Weevil anatomy chart, Owen filling gaps in that when needed. After thirty-five minutes, the decision on where to insert the needle is made and agreed upon. Martha then applies the anaesthetic onto the front of Owen’s left shoulder with a medium-sized piece of gauze. As a quick warning to inform him she is going to insert the needle, Martha says, “Okay, here we go.” For a few brief seconds after she speaks, Owen feels a slight stinging sensation on the insert site. For anyone else, that sensation would be uncomfortable, but to the former medical officer, who had only just begun having the ability to feel again, it was one of the most wonderful he had experienced thus far.
Fifteen minutes and three full vials later, Martha announces, “Okay, all done.” She carefully removes the needle, then quickly covers the site with a bandage, securing that with four small strips of tape, one on each corner. “You know what to do- keep pressure on it for a few minutes, then take the bandage off.” Martha adds as she starts putting things away.
Owen nods in agreement, then, his right hand pressed firmly on the site, asks, “Are we all done for the day?”
“Not quite. There are still a few tests I need to do.”
“Got it.” Owen answers, nodding.

Later that afternoon, as he had promised, Jack, back in work mode, checks in with Martha as she is cleaning up the medical lab. “I know you probably don’t have any hard data from Owen’s lab work yet, but what’s your preliminary conclusion?” Jack inquires.
“He’s a mix of human and Weevil for sure, but I don’t know which species’ genetic structure is most dominant in his cellular makeup.”
“So he’s more of one than the other? The proportions aren’t equal?”
“Right. I’m not positive that’s the case, but considering he was a walking dead man before the transformation, it’s very likely.” Martha explains.
“Can the blood tests tell us how much of him is Weevil, and how much is human?”
“Yes, they can. Those and the results of some other tests.” Martha replies.
“Did you do any of those today?”
“Yeah, a couple, but there are still a few left to complete. I’ll need at least two more days to do those, then more time to study and interpret their results, so you’ll need to figure out where to keep him during that period.”
A slight edge to his voice, Jack answers, “We aren’t gonna be keeping Owen anywhere. His body might have changed internally and externally, but what Gwen said before they came in this morning and what I’ve seen since then tells me that in every other way, he’s exactly the same.”
Martha, somewhat taken aback by Jack’s tone, says, “Okay, okay. Just… Wherever he ends up staying while we’re doing this needs to be close by.”
“It will be.” Jack replies, the edgy tone his voice had had only a moment before now absent. Martha returns to her tidying, and Jack, looking up, calls, “Ianto, can you come here for a minute? I need to ask you something.”

Barely a minute has passed when the light, clicking footsteps of Jack’s young lover are heard above. A few moments later, Ianto, absent his suit coat and holding the same two coffee cups from that morning, appears. “Yes sir?” he asks, looking down at Jack.
“Do you think you could check if Owen’s flat has been put back on the market?”
“Sure. Let me take care of these dishes first, then I’ll look.”
“Great, thanks.” Jack answers.
“You’re welcome. I’ll be right back.” Ianto replies. Jack simply nods in response.
Ianto goes off to see to the tasks, and Jack turns back to Martha. “How soon tomorrow do you think the results from today’s tests’ll be ready?” he asks.

“Probably mid-morning sometime.” Martha answers.
“Okay, good.” Just as Jack is about to say something else to her, the sound of footsteps is heard again. Glancing up after it ceases, Jack asks, “So Ianto, what did you find out?”

“As far as I can tell, it hasn’t been re-entered into the database yet.” He replies.
“Good. Thanks for looking into that.”
“No problem. Anything else I can do?”
“Mmmm… No, I don’t think so, not unless you know where Owen’s disappeared to.” Jack answers.
“Can’t help you there, I’m afraid.” Jack nods in response. “So nothing else, then?” Ianto replies.
“No, not right now. But don’t go just yet.” Ianto nods, and Jack, looking at Martha, asks, “Martha, do you know where Owen went after you guys finished up?”
“Yeah.” She answers, nodding. “He said he was going to see Mickey and look over the results I got when I checked his vitals.”
“So he’s with Mickey?” Jack asks.
“Yeah.” Martha replies.

“Would you like me to go get him?” Ianto asks from above.
“Yeah, that would be great. And bring Mickey, too.” Jack answers. “Meet us in the same conference room we were in this morning.”
“Yes sir. We’ll see you in there.” Ianto replies.
“Yep. Thanks, Ianto.” Jack calls after him as he leaves.
“You’re welcome.” The younger man answers, glancing back for a moment. He then turns away and continues on, his footsteps echoing off the metal floor, the sound gradually fading as he gets further away.
“Ready to go up?” Jack asks, turning to Martha.
“Yep.” She answers.
“Okay, after you, doctor.” Jack replies, motioning her to go in front of him. After removing her lab coat and hanging it on the handle of a tall cabinet door, Martha walks toward the stairwell, Jack following behind. They then ascend the stairs, keeping the same positions.
Ianto, meanwhile, after searching the Hub up and down for fifteen minutes, finds Owen and Mickey, the former hunched over a computer. Just for a moment, Ianto does a double take, shocked to see his deceased colleague sitting there. Then he recalls the events that had transpired that morning and the day before, remembering, as he does so, that Owen isn’t dead, just radically altered in physical appearance. Ianto clears his throat politely, and both men turn to look at him, Mickey first.
“What’s up?” Owen asks, turning around in his chair fully.
“Jack wants us all to meet upstairs in the same room we were in this morning.” Ianto replies.

“Okay, I guess we’d better go, then.” Mickey remarks, mostly to Owen.

“Yep.” Owen agrees, getting up. Lead the way, teaboy.” He adds. Ianto nods, then turns around, hiding the fond smile that surfaced in spite of the insulting nature of Owen’s comment.

Twenty minutes later, halfway to the favored meeting room, the trio encounters Gwen and Rhys, newly returned from their morning outing. “Where are you three headed?” Gwen asks with curiosity.
“Jack wants to meet with us all about something or other.” Owen informs her.
“It’s a good thing we got here when we did, then.” Gwen anwers, glancing at Rhys, who nods.

He then says, “Maybe I’d better leave you here and head home.”
“Why? There’s no reason to.” Gwen replies neutrally.
“Sure there is. You’re gonna be taking about work-related stuff. I’ve got no business being involved in that.” Rhys says.
“Don’t be silly, of course you do. Come on.” Gwen answers. Rhys still hesitates, so she adds, “Please, Rhys?”

Before Rhys has a chance to answer, Ianto says, “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t all five of us go upstairs, and we’ll ask Jack what he’d prefer. How does that sound?” All four nod. “Alright, come on then.” He adds. The quarter follows him the rest of the way, reaching the conference room fifteen minutes later. Upon entering it, they see Martha sitting at one end of the table, and Jack half leaning and half sitting on the upper corner of the other, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“Everybody here?” Jack asks, turning and looking in Ianto’s direction mere seconds before his foot contacts the floor of the room.
“Yes sir, all here and accounted for.” The young Welshman replies.
“Good. Why don’t all of you have a seat.”
“A quick question before we start, if that’s alright.” Ianto says.
“Mmhmm… . What is it?” Jack asks.
“Gwen and Rhys want to know if it’s alright for Rhys to stick around during the meeting.” Ianto explains.
“Of course it is. He can sit in at meetings anytime and however often he wants.” Looking over the heads of Ianto, Gwen, Owen, and Mickey, Jack, nodding, adds, “Come on in, Rhys.”

“Thanks.” Rhys answers as he comes in.
“You’re welcome.” Jack replies. With Rhys finally seated, the team members are arranged in the following manner: Jack at the head of the table with Gwen sitting to his right, Rhys next to her; Ianto is seated to Jack’s left, Mickey next to him, and Owen on Martha’s left at the other end of the table. After a moment’s pause, Jack continues. “Now that everyone’s here, we’ll get started. Before the meeting, Ianto did a bit of investigating for me, and found a place for Owen to stay while we’re finishing up our current case. The thing is, for both his own safety and to preserve the integrity of the investigation, we need to get Owen to and from here using a route and method that keeps him hidden from prying eyes. We need to arrange that now.” Jack pauses again for a moment, then leaning back slightly in his chair, his arms still crossed, he glances around the table and asks, “So, any volunteers?”

“I’ll do it.” Mickey offers.
Casting a sidelong glance at him, Jack replies, “You sure? You’ve only been here for a few weeks. Do you think you know Cardiff well enough to navigate without too much trouble?”
Chuckling, Mickey answers, “I walked the place for hours trying to find my way here the day I arrived- it shouldn’t be that hard. How quickly I can get him where he needs to go depends on where you set him up, obviously, but it isn’t going to be too much more difficult to bring him here and take him back when we’re done for the day, I don’t think. Just say where he’ll be staying, and we can go from there.”
“Okay, Mickey, you’ve got it. Thanks for the help.” Jack replies, looking pointedly at Gwen and Martha with a bit of displeasure as he finishes his sentence.
“No problem.” The younger man answers.
Turning then to Owen, Jack says, “Okay, Owen, you’ll be staying in your old flat while we finish the case. Does that work for you?”

“Yeah, just fine.” Owen answers, nodding, all the while doing his best to conceal the surprise in his voice.
“Great.” Switching his attention from Owen to the rest of the team, Jack, standing up, announces, “Okay, that’s it for the meeting. I’d like to get Owen settled by this evening sometime, so we need to move at least the basic stuff back into his flat- something for him to sleep on, a day or two of clothes, that sort of thing. Are you guys up to that?” The other five nod in agreement.
“Good, I’m glad. Off to the storage units, then. Ianto, if you would?”

“Gladly.” Jack’s young lover replies. Turning to the rest of the assembled group, Ianto instructs, “Come on, let’s go.” Gwen and Rhys get up first, followed by Martha, and finally, Mickey. Owen and Jack both linger in the room after the others exit, the former giving the impression that he wants to say something, and the other clearly waiting for him to do so.
“What’s up, Owen?” Jack asks quietly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Somewhat humbly, Owen replies, “Thanks for not putting me in one of the cells. I really thought you would. Why did you decide not to do that, anyway?”
“Sure, no problem. In answer to your question, I decided not to stick you in one of the cells because I didn’t want to put you through more than you already have been.”
“What do you mean?” Owen inquires with confusion.
“Janet’s started spending more of her time inside, so if we were to put you in a nearby cell, she might get a bit, shall we say, overexcited.” Jack replies slyly.
Owen gives him a disgusted look, and shaking his head, says, “Oh god, do not go there, Jack, please! The very idea is just…ugh, I don’t even want to think about it!”
Laughing and briefly flashing a grin, Jack answers, “Sorry, couldn’t help it.” He becomes silent then, and after clearing his throat, says solemnly, “To be honest, Owen, I didn’t have you locked up in a cell because…” Jack abruptly stops mid-sentence, the intimate nature of the words he wants to say causing them to stick in his throat.
“Because…what?” Owen presses.
Looking down for a moment then back up, Jack replies haltingly, “Because I… I’ve always thought of you as sort of a son, Owen.”
Astounded at both the revelation and Jack’s willingness to share something so personal, Owen is momentarily speechless. After a couple of minutes, he manages to stutter, “You… you have?”
“I have.” Jack answers, nodding. “I know that sounds strange, but I really felt I needed to share it with you.”
“Thanks.” Owen pauses for a moment, then continues. “It’s not really that strange. To tell you the truth, I saw you as more than just my boss, if you understand what I mean.”
“I do.” Jack replies, grasping the small of Owen’s back and pulling him close in a one-armed hug. After a few moments, Jack breaks the embrace and asks, “Ready to go?”
“Yeah.” Owen answers, nodding.
“Okay, after you.” His former supervisor responds. Owen goes out, takes a few steps more, then stops and waits. Before following, Jack takes a moment to close the door. That done, he catches up to Owen, and they head off to the storage units, Owen still in front.

Fifteen minutes later, the pair reaches the storage area. Jack does a visual and mental head count to make sure everyone is present, then sets them in action by saying, “Okay, let’s get to work.” An order of sorts more or less given, the team starts on the task immediately. In between instances of helping the others sort through his possessions, Owen specifies what he does and does not want to take back to the waiting flat several neighborhoods away.

After a few hours, the team stops working in order to take a break. As the current members sit or lean on various things in the surrounding area so they can rest, Owen surveys the collection of objects set aside for the move back into his flat.
“That’s good for now.” Owen says after looking over everything a few times.
“You sure?” Jack asks.
“Yeah. If I think of any other things at some point, though, can I come back and get them?”
“Of course you can.” Jack answers kindly.
“Alright, thanks.” Owen replies.
“You’re welcome.” Jack says in response, nodding slightly. He then turns to the others and says, “You guys heard him. We’ll take fifteen more minutes or so, then get back to work, okay?” The other five team members nod understandingly. The team finishes up its break and continues working, every member, including Jack, pitching in to help.
They finish an hour and a half later, the task’s result being three cars— the SUV, Gwen’s, and Mickey’s— packed almost to capacity with various pieces of furniture (some complete sets, some not), boxes of clothes, and other such things.
“It looks like we’re done.” Jack, his hands on his hips, remarks. The others nod in agreement. “Okay, this is what we’re going to do- we’ll drive to Owen’s flat in a caravan, the SUV in the middle, Gwen and Rhys in front, Owen and Mickey in back. Actually, scratch that. Owen, you’ll ride with Ianto and me, and Martha, you’ll go with Mickey. Does that work for you guys?” No one protests, so Jack says, “Okay, then let’s go.” The rest of the team splits off, each member getting into their assigned car. After the synchronized slamming of doors, the three vehicles maneuver into a vertical line, each in its specified place, and they drive off into the night, all heading to the same place.

WIP- "Paths To Redemption" Masterlist

2009-10-09T01:07:07Z

Author: jackdavfan692
Category: (Slightly) AU
Characters: Elizabeth, Norrington, Bootstrap Bill, Davey Jones, Murtogg & Mullroy, various members of the Empress' crew, Lord Beckett, Jack, Barbossa, Will, Gibbs, and various other members of the Black Pearl's crew.

Summary: In the weeks leading up to the pirates' final standoff with Beckett and his forces, Elizabeth, Norrington, Bootstrap Bill, and Davey Jones attempt to redeem themselves.

Rating: PG-13
Notes: This is an AU version of POTC: AWE in which Norrington didn't die after being stabbed by Bootstrap Bill.

Disclaimer: The story and characters are the property of Disney and Ted Elliot & Terry Rossio. I just thought I'd have a little fun and rewrite the fate of one of my favorite characters :).

Parts I & II
http://jackdavfan692.livejournal.com/2077.html

Parts III & IV
http://jackdavfan692.livejournal.com/3150.html

Parts V & VI
http://jackdavfan692.livejournal.com/7384.html

WIP- "Matters of Choice", Masterlist

2009-10-08T23:24:29Z

Writer's Block: Bite Me

2009-07-27T22:52:03Z

Ooh, that's a toughie :P. The possibilities, in no particular order, are:
1. Bill Compton from HBO's series True Blood

2. Louis in Anne Rice's Interview With The Vampire (I'm picturing Brad Pitt in the movie here, just so you know ;))

3. Armand in the same novel (Again, picturing Mr. Antonio Banderas in the movie)

4. Eric, also from True Blood.

Hmmm...***Thinks*** Rats, I can't choose, except to say that it would be a toss up between Louis, Eric, and Bill :]. I say the first and second ones because both are gorgeous and charming, and the third because he'd be very gentle, unless I asked him otherwise ;).

Matters of Choice- WIP (1 & 2/?)

2009-06-01T19:20:28Z

Title: "Matters of Choice"
Author: jackdavfan692
Category: AU (Sort Of)
Rating: PG-13 to R, mostly due to violence and some strong language.
Warnings: Slash (mostly non-sexual), a bit of strong language
Summary: Two months after the deaths of Tosh and Owen, the team is presented with a case involving a rash of disappearances and murders seemingly connected to Weevils. As the investigation deepens, the identity of one of the key players involved in the case slowly becomes clear, and who it is elicits mixed reactions from all three members.

Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys, Martha and Mickey from Doctor Who

Spoilers: S2, including "Exit Wounds", references to the events of "The Stolen Earth" and "Journey's End" are made in passing during the early part of the fic.

Notes: This started out as a "theoryfic" whose basic plot came about late one night when I was speculating over what the five-episode story for the upcoming season might be. It became a fanfic after we got wind of the basic plot of the actual season.

Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, Doctor Who, or any of either series' characters. They're all just conduits for encouraging my writing creativity 8).
Three figures are huddled around a crumpled, torn body, nothing visible in the fading light but their silhouettes and the dark form of the subject of their scrutiny.
"Another one." Jack says, a slight breeze stirring his hair and the hem of his coat. He pulls the sheet back over the body and gets up from a crouch, his impressive height making him virtually tower over his two companions.
"This is what, the seventh victim in two weeks?" Gwen comments. Jack nods.

Ianto, generally the most quiet of the team, observes, "I've noticed a marked increase in Weevil sightings since...". He lapses into silence, unable to finish the thought, recent memories flooding back, as they'd regularly been doing since that fateful night. It had been barely two months since the deaths of Tosh and Owen at the hands of Jack's unstable brother Gray, and the recollection of those events was still painfully fresh in the minds of the remaining team members. The one thing that had kept them afloat and able to go about their daily duties was the firm, but gentle guidance and leadership of Jack. Without him, Torchwood would have collapsed not long after the losses of Tosh and Owen.
Jack, seeing Ianto's distress, gently grasps his shoulder. After briefly surveying the surrounding area to make sure the three of them are alone, Jack wraps Ianto in an affectionate embrace and kisses him on the forehead. Those gestures of love, ones Jack did not often display in public, lift Ianto out of his sudden pang of sorrow, and he continues. "I thought the increase in sightings might have to do with the possibility that we didn't get all the Weevils back into their cells, but now I'm not so sure. There might be a totally different reason for it, like Rift activity or something."
Nodding, Jack adds, "There's something unusual about this whole case."

"Unusual? How?" Gwen asks.
"I don't know yet, but we'll certainly find out, sooner rather than later, I hope." Jack answers. After a brief pause, he adds, "I'm afraid this is gonna be a long work night, guys. Let's head back to the Hub." Gwen and Ianto follow him without a word, then the three of them get into the SUV and drive off.

Jack, trying to figure out the details of the case and put them together, sits alone in his office, working late as he habitually does. He leafs through the stack of photographs on his desk for the fifth time that evening, examining each one with intense scrutiny worthy of a veteran forensics investigator. As he does so, he mentally goes over all the information gleaned thus far, looking for something he or the others might have missed. Finally, after four more such exercises, he stumbles on to something theretofore unknown. The realization, though informative, is by no means joy producing, and he slumps in his chair at its devastating nature. Jack glances up at the sound of footsteps, just in time to catch Ianto's gaze as he steps into the office.
"Jack, would you like some more...coffee?" Ianto asks, his cheerful tone becoming slightly concerned, and his speech growing a bit faltering. "What's wrong, Jack?" he inquires.
"The Weevils responsible for the attacks are being instructed about who to target and how to deal with them." Jack explains.
"Okay, and?" Ianto answers.
"They're working under a leader. Do you see what I'm getting at?" Jack continues.
"Not entirely, no." Ianto replies, somewhat flustered.
"Their leader isn't just any leader, like of a gang or something, but an all-powerful leader."
With that final statement, everything clicks into place for Ianto, and he suddenly realizes why Jack is so upset. "You mean it's..." he replies, unable to even utter what he's thinking.

"Owen, yes." Jack finishes for him. He sighs deeply, the photographs he's holding fluttering down onto the desk. After a long pause, Jack continues. "But this isn't Owen we're dealing with anymore. This is the "weevil king" we're up against. To be honest, I don't think there's much of Owen left in that creature." Jack slumps in his chair a bit more, leaning his head against its back dolefully.
"We can explain this all to Gwen tomorrow, but now, we need to get some sleep, especially you." Ianto urges gently.
Jack looks up at him and says, "Go ahead and go home, Ianto, it's late. I'm gonna work for a bit longer. I'll see you in the morning."
But Ianto doesn't move a muscle. Instead, he replies, "Come on, Jack, I know you don't want to be here alone tonight, not after everything you've found out."
Jack sits silently for a while, then finally answers, "You're right, I don't, but...".
Ianto takes Jack gently by the hand and says kindly, "Come on, come to bed." That's all it takes. Jack gets up slowly from his desk and lets Ianto lead him out of the office.
As they pass the half-empty coffee cup on the left side of the desk, Jack asks, "What about the...?"
"I'll take care of everything. You just get ready to sleep, and I'll join you when I'm done cleaning things up, okay?" Jack hesitates, so Ianto gives him a kiss to get him on his way. Then nodding, Ianto says, "Go on." Jack finally complies, and after giving Ianto a kiss, heads off to his sleeping quarters.

About forty-five minutes later, Ianto joins Jack, still wide awake, in his sleeping quarters. They talk for a while, mostly comforting one another, eventually falling asleep in each other's arms.

Jack awakens groggily at the whirring of machinery, having slept soundly for the first time in a long while the night before. Sitting on the edge of his bed, Jack slowly pulls on his pants. That done, he climbs sluggishly up the ladder leading out of his personal quarters. Jack rubs his eyes sleepily, then says, "Ianto, what is that noise?"
"Oh good, you're awake. Coffee's ready, and I brought you a little something to eat." Ianto replies brightly.
As Ianto hands him a cup of coffee, Jack comments, "Wait, you went out for breakfast and didn't get me up?"
"Yes. You were sleeping so soundly, I didn't want to wake you."
"I was? That's a first! I haven't slept through the night in years." he pauses, then with that characteristic devilish glimmer in his eyes, says, "Care to spend the night again tonight?"
Ianto, smiling coquettishly, answers, "Mmmm..., maybe, if we can have a little fun before going to bed."
"Sure, whatever you want." Jack replies, winking. He takes a generous drink of his coffee and clears his throat, briefly taking on the role of supervisor and leader. "Any activity of concern on the Rift monitor?" he asks.
"No, none so far this morning." Ianto answers.
"Good. We might have an easy day for once." Jack says.
"Maybe so." Ianto comments. He glances at his watch, then adds, "You should finish up pretty soon and get cleaned up, Gwen's going to be here in a few hours."
Jack takes a generous bite of the breakfast sandwich that until now, he'd only nibbled at. After finishing the mouthful, Jack, raising an eyebrow questioningly, replies, "Ianto, exactly how late is it?"
Ianto glances at his watch again, then answers, "It's about six-thirty."
Jack rolls his eyes amusedly and says, "That's it?" Ianto nods. Giving a chuckle, Jack concludes, "There's plenty of time, no need to rush." Ianto just shrugs and goes about tidying the surrounding area. Jack finishes his coffee and breakfast leisurely, his eyes on Ianto nearly the whole time. Though well aware of being observed, Ianto says nothing until various sounds inform him that Jack is finished.
Even then, Ianto makes his inquiry of what Jack was up to neutral and curious, rather than prying and defensive. "You were awfully quiet. What were you thinking about?" he asks.
"Just looking at you and thinking about how beautiful you are." Jack answers softly. He kisses Ianto passionately, yet gently then, the latter, though slightly surprised, welcoming and enjoying it all the same. That lovers' kiss lasts for a minute and a half, after which they break the embrace. "Would you keep an eye on things while I'm getting ready?" Jack inquires of Ianto.
"Of course." he replies.
"Thanks." Jack returns. Before he turns away to return to his personal quarters, Jack gently brushes a stray strand of hair out of Ianto's face and kisses him once more, just for good measure. "I'll get done as soon as I can, okay?" Jack adds, just before disappearing back down the ladder. Ianto nods, then watches Jack descend into his quarters until he can’t be seen. With no further distractions, Ianto returns to his tidying, checking on the Rift monitor now and then to see if any activity shows up.

At the same time, on the other side of Cardiff, Gwen pauses in the midst of her preparation for work and looks at the still sleeping form of her new husband. She had already felt an enormous sense of relief and unburdening after telling Rhys the true nature of her job and introducing him to her colleagues, but everything that had happened over the last several months had intensified those feelings. Having the opportunity to discuss things about one's job with colleagues was one thing, but having someone at home to do the same thing with was different altogether, and had, until recently, been out of Gwen's reach. To her, explaining to Rhys what she did as a Torchwood employee was one of the best decisions she had ever made, and she had no regrets about it whatsoever. After putting away the hairbrush she'd been using, Gwen sits gently on the bed and slides closer to Rhys. She bends down and kisses him affectionately, waking him.
"Off to work already, then?" Rhys says sleepily.
"Yeah." Gwen replies, nodding.

Rhys sits up, then says unhappily, "I was hoping we'd at least be able to drink our coffee together. Do you really have to go now?"
"I do, I'm sorry. Maybe tomorrow morning, okay?" she replies apologetically, kissing him again sweetly.
"Alright." he replies disappointedly. "Call me if you're gonna be really late though, okay?" he adds.
"I will." Gwen answers. Rhys looks at her uncertainly, so she adds, "I promise." That convinces him, so he gives her a kiss goodbye. Rhys watches her go out the bedroom door, then gets up to prepare for work himself.

A couple of hours or so after the two couple's parallel routines conclude, Gwen arrives in the Hub. She tracks Jack and Ianto down in the conference room, leisurely sipping their coffee, and clearly absorbed in discussing the pile of autopsy reports and photographs in front of them on the table. She enters the room quietly, so as not to disturb the pair, and hopefully, conceal her apparent tardiness.
Seconds before she reaches a chair, however, Jack turns around and spots her. "Morning, Gwen." he says, no displeasure evident in his voice.
"Sorry I'm late." she replies, sitting down across from him and Ianto.
"Oh, you aren't at all." Jack answers, waving a hand unconcernedly. "We were just discussing theories about some physical details of the case." Gwen nods understandingly. "Coffee?" Jack adds, briefly changing the subject.
"Yes, a little please. Half a cup, maybe." Gwen replies.

Ianto gets up to retrieve Gwen's coffee. Before leaving, he turns to Jack and asks, "How about you? More coffee?"
Picking up his cup, Jack glances at its contents. "Yeah, please. Full cup for me, though." he answers.
"Sure." Ianto replies.
"Thanks." Jack returns, handing his cup up to Ianto.
"Welcome." Ianto answers. "I'll be right back." He returns a few seconds later, carrying the three cups on a tray.
Just as he is about to place it on the table, Jack gets up, saying, "I got it, go ahead and sit." Ianto does so, and waits for Jack to finish distributing the coffee. A short time later, he, too, sits, his thank you to Ianto for fixing and bringing the coffee materializing in the form of a brief peck on the cheek. Ianto flashes a small, shy smile, indicating that in spite of his initial astonishment at its divulgence, he likes this new side of Jack. Catching Ianto’s glance, Jack leans over and kisses him once more on the cheek. Jack then takes one last sip of his coffee, and after some shuffling of the folders and photographs on the table, attends to the business at hand. Pushing a portion of the pile toward Gwen, Jack explains, “While looking over a lot of this last night, I uncovered some new information that should help us get over this roadblock we seem to have hit. You guys agree that we’ve become somewhat stuck?” Both Ianto and Gwen nod. “I figured as much.” Jack continues. “Well, last night, I managed to put a few more pieces together. What I learned isn’t particularly reassuring or welcome, but it is what it is, and is going to be invaluably helpful in speeding up our ability to solve this case.” Jack’s last comment elicits a mystified reaction from Gwen, so noticeable that Jack is compelled to address it. “What’s up, Gwen?” he asks curiously.
“That just seems like an odd way to describe it. This stuff you found out last night¬–– “ Jack nods. “It basically sums up to being a big break in the case, right?” she answers.
“Yeah, you could say that.” Jack replies.
“Then there shouldn’t be any reason to be unhappy about it, right?” Gwen points out. Jack and Ianto exchange a knowing glance. “Right?” she presses.
Jack turns back to her and says, “Those folders I gave you?“ Gwen nods. “Those are where I got the new information from. Take a quick look through them, and tell me if you notice anything.”
Gwen does as he asks, then looks up and says, “It looks like all the victims worked in a certain field.”
“Mmhmm… go on.” Jack presses.
“And, their cause of death was the same- Weevil attacks.”
“Right. Now look at the photographs. What do you see?”
After a careful examination, Gwen answers, “Not only were they all killed by Weevils, but they were killed the same way by Weevils.”
“Exactly. When you talked to the witnesses, what did they all tell you?” Jack asks.
“Ummm… let me think.” Gwen replies.
“Take your time.” Jack assures her, nodding.
“Oh! They said some people weren’t killed, they were beaten unconscious and taken somewhere.”
“Yes!” Jack exclaims. “Now, what does all that tell you?” he asks.
Gwen grows wide-eyed and says with disbelief, “Oh my God! All of this––– the murders, the beatings, the chosen victims–– was planned!”
“Mmhmm… .Which means- what?” Jack urges.
“Which means they have a leader.” Gwen explains. Jack nods in agreement. “But what Weevil is that intelligent? What Weevil has authority to order others around, and the capacity to plan like that?” Finally, it dawns on her, and she grows rigid in her chair. “Oh my God! Oh no! Not…!”
“Yes.” Jack replies sorrowfully. “Now do you see why I described what I’d learned the way I did?”
“I do.” Gwen replies sadly. “But still, how? Surely Owen died when he came into contact with the substances in the plant!”
“Apparently not.” Jack replies, a mournful sigh escaping from him.
“But how is that possible?” Gwen exclaims disbelievingly.
“Something to do with that weird energy that showed up in him after he came back from the dead, then came in contact with Death, I’m guessing.” Jack acknowledges.
Gwen, still floored at the devastating revelation, says weakly, “So, what do we do?”
“It’s hard to say, since we don’t know how seriously the transformation, mutation, whatever it was, affected him, or even how it happened in the first place.” Jack explains. “That first problem can’t be solved immediately, but the second one, with a little outside assistance, can, possibly. I already have a person in mind for the task, and I’m planning to get in touch with them today.”
“That’s good, but until then, is there something else we can do?” Gwen inquires.
“No, not really.” He turns to Ianto and asks, “Anything new on the Rift monitor since this morning?”
“No, not a blip.” Ianto replies.
“Hmmm…, okay.” Jack pauses for a while, lost in thought. Finally, he continues. “I don’t like to leave it unattended for very long, but I think in this case, circumstances demand we make an exception.”

“Meaning?” Gwen asks.
“Consider today a personal day for us- go home, stick around here, work, don’t work, whatever you want. We need some time to get our heads together, after finding all this out. Does that work for you guys?”
“Sounds good to me.” Gwen replies, shrugging.
“Ianto?” Jack asks.

“I’m fine with it.” He answers, nodding.
“Okay.” Turning back to Gwen, Jack asks, “Gwen, what time does Rhys take a break for lunch?”

Gwen glances at her watch, then replies, “In a couple of hours or so. Why?”
“If you can get in touch with him, ask him if he’d like to join us for lunch around that time.” Jack answers.
“Okay, I will.” Gwen replies, hoping the surprise in her voice isn’t overly obvious.
“Good. We’ll see the two of you in a couple of hours, then?”
“Yeah, in a couple of hours.” Gwen answers, nodding.
“Okay, see you guys then.” Jack replies, before following Ianto out the door.
“Yeah.” Gwen answers.
“Okay, later.” Jack finishes. He then joins Ianto, waiting just outside the door, leaving Gwen alone in the conference room.

Late that same evening, Martha Jones is sitting at the dimly lit desk in her London flat, finishing some pending case paperwork for UNIT. It had been a little over a year since, with the Doctor’s generous, covert help, she’d landed a lucrative job with the organization, and almost three months since she’d helped him, Captain Jack Harkness, Donna Noble, Mickey Smith, and the Tyler family wrest Earth from the clutches of Davros and his army of Daleks. Since then, her daily job had become an almost unbearable bore. It was an excellent one, to be sure, but it paled in comparison to her past travels with the mysterious Doctor, her brief stint as chief medical officer for Torchwood, and the integral part she’d played in helping save the world from certain destruction twice. She was still glad her dream of becoming a medical doctor had come true, but she would willingly trade thousands more experiences like those, in spite of the certain danger, for the minimal, mostly unremarkable ones she was having now.
Martha is interrupted from her reverie by the sound of her mobile phone ringing. Though mystified as to who would call her at such a late hour, she answers. “Hello?” she says into the mouthpiece.
“Martha? It’s Jack Harkness.” the voice at the other end of the line answers.
Martha can’t help but smile upon hearing the caller’s identity. “Captain Jack Harkness- What can I do for you?”
“Yeah, hey. Sorry to call so late, it’s been kinda busy.” he answers.
“No problem. What’s up?”
“Does UNIT have you working on any major, pressing projects right now?”
Martha thinks for a few moments, then answers, “No, not really. Why?”
“A situation’s come up that requires knowledge like yours, so Torchwood needs to borrow you for at least a couple of weeks, maybe more. Can UNIT go without you for that amount of time?”
“Sure they can. How soon would you like me there?” Martha asks.
“As soon as you can get here.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, then.”
“Great, see you then, Martha. Bye, and uh, sleep well.”
“I will, thanks. Take care.” She waits to hear the sound of the other line hang up, then does so herself.

Matters of Choice- WIP (3/?)

2009-06-01T19:02:37Z

Title: "Matters of Choice"
Author: jackdavfan692
Category: AU (Sort Of)
Rating: PG-13 to R
Warnings: Slash (mostly non-sexual), a bit of strong language
Summary: Martha and Mickey arrive in Cardiff within a few weeks of each other and start a trial period as Torchwood employees

Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys, Martha and Mickey

Spoilers: S2, including "Exit Wounds", references are made to the events of "The Stolen Earth" and "Journey's End"

Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, Doctor Who, or any of either series' characters. They're all just conduits for encouraging my writing creativity 8).
Two and a half weeks later, on a sunny but blustery day in Cardiff, Martha finds herself at the inner entrance to the Hub, waiting to be let in. As soon as the door closes behind her, she notices something is different about the place. When she had visited previously, the Hub had literally been humming with activity–– the low hum of personal computers running, the occasional keyboard clicks of some employee or other working on a document, and other such sounds of busyness, indicating that in spite of its size, the facility was, well, a hub of activity. Now, all of that was glaringly absent. Even so, she thinks nothing of it, guessing that Tosh and Owen are off for the day or something. Her first observation of an employee gets her wondering again, however.
To her mild surprise, it is Jack, rather than Ianto, who meets her in the foyer. Still, that is not what reignites her curiosity. The man she sees descending the stairs is noticeably different from the jovial captain she had gotten to know. Physically, she sees no change in Jack, nothing to indicate he’d been going through a difficult time since they had last seen each other. It is something in his bearing, rather, that gives it away. Watching Jack come down the stairs, Martha notices a marked change in his demeanor. Once cheery and carefree, it now appears somber and troubled. The lightness in his gait is gone, his air of cheerfulness absent, the change visible even in his face. He greets Martha cheerfully enough, but still with more effort than he used to.
“Hey you, how have you been?” he asks, giving her a friendly hug.
“Good, and you?” Martha answers.
“Pretty good.” he replies, smiling a little.
“I’m glad.” She says, smiling back at Jack. Looking up, Martha gives Gwen and Ianto a friendly wave. “Are Owen and Toshiko off today? I was expecting to see them, as well.”
“No, we uh, lost both of them in the line of duty some months back.” Jack explains, doing his best to keep his voice from trembling.
Martha glances back up at Gwen and Ianto, then returns her attention to Jack, her eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m so sorry.” she says.
“Thank you.” He answers, a slight smile returning to his face.
“How did it happen, if it isn’t too painful for you to talk about?” she asks, her voice filled with concern.
“I’ll explain it some more in the briefing, come on up.” Jack replies, nodding his head toward the stairwell. She adjusts the position of the bag on her shoulder slightly, then follows Jack up the stairs without a further word.

Mickey Smith is wandering around a section of Cardiff, map in hand, hunting for the Torchwood headquarters. His reason for being there? A job interview for an open position in the organization. Three months earlier, before he and the rest of the Doctor’s self-described “time team” parted ways for the last time, the head of Torchwood himself, Captain Jack Harkness, had offered Mickey the job he was now heading to an interview for, and not in jest. He hadn’t given the captain an answer either way then, he had only said he’d think about it. And thought about it he had, quite extensively, in fact.
Three things had determined the decision that now brought Mickey to Cardiff. First, events in the parallel Earth had finally gotten in sync with those in the one Mickey was now returning to for the first time in years. His grandmother had passed away in the parallel Earth, just as she had before Mickey had arrived there a few years earlier. With his grandmother gone, and the majority of Lumic’s cyber factories destroyed, Mickey had no reason to stay there. Secondly, though Mickey had long accepted that Rose’s heart belonged to the Doctor, he still held a candle for her in his own. Thus, being near her, in either her family’s home or whatever dimension the Tyler family happened to inhabit at present, was occasionally painful for him still. Finally, as with all those individuals who had been in contact with the Doctor for an extensive period of time, what Mickey had seen and experienced made it impossible for him to return to the mundane life he had led before. With the Doctor’s current whereabouts unknown, and thus, any chance of further adventures with him at least on hold, Mickey needed the next best thing. In spite of his reservations about working with and under Jack Harkness, Mickey felt that Torchwood was what could offer him that. Those very reservations were virtually absent from his mind at present, however, due to the way his call alerting Torchwood to his arrival in Cardiff had gone. When Mickey had phoned, it was Harkness who had answered. To the young man’s surprise, the Torchwood leader had been willing to hire him right off the bat, without so much as an interview. But Mickey, still harboring some uncertainty about the sincerity of the captain’s apparent eagerness to bring him onboard, requested that he go through an interview beforehand. Harkness readily agreed to the request, but being the cheeky fellow he was, had said this before hanging up: “Okay, if you want, but just know that it’s pretty much a given you’ll get the job.” Mickey had had no idea how to respond to that, but as he was listening to Harkness’s tone, Mickey could almost see the sly smile on the captain’s face as he spoke.
Nearly forty-five minutes later, Mickey finally reaches the location he had been given in his directions. The structure in front of him is a beautiful piece of architecture, but appears to be little else. Baffled, Mickey looks over his map again, thinking he might have taken a wrong turn or something. As he begins to puzzle over it, he suddenly hears a strange humming noise. Looking up, he sees a door seemingly appear out of nowhere. As it slides horizontally to his left, Mickey murmurs to himself, “Awesome!” As he thinks out loud, a slight glimmer of his long-absent boyish awe manifests itself in the form of a wide grin. He walks through the opening, then stops dead in his tracks, open-mouthed and wide-eyed at the scene in front of him. He’s suddenly jerked out of his awed gawking by an almost deafening screech high above him. “What the bloody hell was that?” he exclaims.
“Oh, that?” a voice replies. Mickey whirls around to see Harkness coming toward him. Looking up for a moment, Jack continues, “That’s just Myfanwy, our, uh, guard dog, or I guess, guard pteradactyl, if you wanna be scientifically correct. She has a habit of doing that, sorry.” Offering his hand, Jack adds, “Glad you made it.”
“Thanks.” Mickey replies, grasping Jack’s hand and shaking it. “Where’d it come from?” Mickey asks.
“Long story. I’ll tell you about it sometime.” Breaking the handshake, the captain inquires, “So, what do you think?”
“This place is just…amazing! I’ve never seen anything like it!”
Jack looks at him with surprise and asks, “Really? All that time you spent traveling with the Doctor, and you never saw a single thing that compared with this?”
“Well, not on Earth, no.” Mickey replies.
Grinning slightly, Jack says, “Now that makes sense. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the others before we get started.” Mickey follows him up to the main control sector, looking around as they go.
They reach their destination a few minutes later, the other team members gathered around eating lunch. Jack takes a bite of his sandwich, and after finishing that, proceeds to introduce Mickey to the others, beginning with Ianto. Indicating him, Jack says, “This is Ianto Jones. He keeps things running smoothly around here, along with… a lot of other things.”

“How do you do.” The young Welshman says graciously, shaking Mickey’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, mate.” Mickey replies.

Turning then to Gwen, Jack says, “This is Ms. Gwen Cooper, she’s our main investigator.”

“Hi there, Mickey, nice to meet you.” Gwen says, grasping his hand.
“And you.” Mickey answers.

“And finally, Dr. Martha Jones, who you’ve already met. She’s helping us out with the case we’re currently working on.”

“Hi, Mickey, good to see you again.” Martha says pleasantly, getting up to greet him.
“You too.” Mickey replies, when she reaches him. They shake hands briefly, then Martha returns to her chair.

Turning back to Mickey, Jack asks, “Hungry?”
“A little, yeah.” The young man answers.
“Sorry we didn’t include you in the lunch order. We weren’t sure when you’d get here.” Jack says.
“No problem.” Mickey answers neutrally, shrugging.
“Thanks for being so understanding.” Turning then to Ianto, Jack inquires, “Ianto, we have sandwich fixings around here someplace, don’t we?”

“I think so. Do you want me to go look for them?” Ianto replies.
“Yeah, if you would, and maybe have Mickey here go with you, so that when you find ‘em, he can decide what he wants.”
“Sure.” Turning then to Mickey, Ianto, nodding his head to the left, says, “Come on, follow me.”

“Right behind you, mate.” The other man answers. The two young men then venture off, leaving the others alone in the room. They return to their lunches once Mickey and Ianto move completely out of sight

Looking at Jack, Gwen asks, “Is he going to stay with us?”
“I hope so, because we really need him.” The captain answers between bites. “When he called earlier today to say he’d arrived in Cardiff, I pretty much told him the job was his. I don’t know what he thought of the offer, though, since all he did after I gave him directions was say thanks, goodbye, and hang up. I’d love to have him on staff, but the decision is still his.”

Martha, who had been listening intently until now, enters into the conversation, saying, “Does he know what he’s getting into, with the case and everything?”
Turning from Gwen and looking across the table at Martha, Jack replies, “When he called a couple of months ago to tell me he was interested in the job, I explained what we do here a little, and told him the basics of this current case. So yeah, I’d say he knows what he’s getting himself into. Mickey’s a lot like you that way. Give him enough information about something, and he’s ready to face it head-on, along with any difficulties that might come up while he’s in the middle of it.”
“Great. It’s good to know he’s prepared.” Martha comments. The subject of conversation eventually drifts away from Mickey to other things, and the trio continues their lunch making small talk.

Meanwhile, Ianto and Mickey are absorbed in wandering through the other sections of the Hub, hunting for the elusive sandwich fixings. The more Mickey sees of the facility, the greater his sense of amazement becomes. The place is a veritable dream come true for a tech geek like him. He has no doubt that using some of the equipment is going to require him to overcome a very steep learning curve, but he’s game for it, will even welcome it. Mickey becomes so enthralled with the prospect, in fact, that he begins toying with the idea of staying on as an employee of Torchwood. The young pair walks for another half hour, then finally reaches the makeshift kitchen. Ianto immediately proceeds to begin going carefully through the assorted things, Mickey helping with the search. The two men work in silence for a while, then Ianto ventures to strike up conversation.
“Are you going to be with us long?” he inquires of Mickey.
“I don’t know.” The other man answers, looking up from the cupboard he is peering into. “I’ve got a hotel room and everything, but I only reserved it for a few days.”
Nodding, Ianto replies, Hmmm…, I see. Well, if you decide to stay past that, I’ll be glad to help you with finding other accommodations, either temporary or more permanent.”
“Cool, thanks!” Mickey returns, grinning appreciatively. He was beginning to take a liking to the slightly younger man.
“Sure.” Ianto answers in return, smiling back. Turning his attention back to the task at hand, the young Welshman moves around a few more rows of foodstuffs and such in the cabinet that is presently the subject of his investigation, then says, “Here we go, here’s the bread.” He looks for a date, expiration or otherwise, on the package, finds it, glances at it and notes it, opens the bag, looks at the loaf as best and completely as he can without physically touching the slices, and finally places it on the small counter. “There’s that, and…” Ianto stops mid-sentence and sticks his head in the now open fridge. After some looking, clattering, and further moving around of items, he closes the door again. Holding a veritable pile of condiments, Ianto returns his attention to his companion and says, “…Here are the condiments.” He puts everything down on the counter, and after a quick look through the items, pushes aside those that are spoiled, or on the verge of entering that condition.
“You guys don’t come in here that often, do you?” Mickey remarks, glancing at the assortment of spoiled and nearly spoiled foodstuffs.
“I’m actually the only one who knows about it.” Ianto explains, as he drops the items into a small trashcan below and a little ways to the left of him.
“Seriously?” Mickey exclaims in disbelief.
Mmhhmm… . the other man replies.
“How’s that?” Mickey inquires.
“I came upon it late one evening when I was, um, staying the night.” Ianto answers.
“When you were…? Oh, I got it.” His companion replies, nodding knowingly, and smiling slightly.
Ianto, suddenly eager to change the subject, asks, “What kind of sandwich would you like?”
Mickey draws closer to the counter and looks over the remaining items. After some consideration, he says, “A roast beef sandwich sounds good.”
“Do you want me to make that for you?” Ianto asks.
“Nah, I got it.” Mickey replies. Ianto looks at him disconcertedly. Seeing his troubled expression, Mickey adds reassuringly, “Oh, it’s got nothing to do with what you just told me, or rather, hinted at, don’t worry.” Relieved at hearing that, Ianto goes about picking up the small pantry/kitchen, and Mickey sees to making his sandwich. The two young men work in relative quiet for a short period, then Mickey asks, “So, Ianto, how long have you been working here?”
Stopping in the midst of washing a dish and looking up in thought, the younger man replies, “Mmmm… going on two years now.”
“So not long, then.” Mickey comments.
“Compared to Jack and the two team members we lost a few months ago, no.” Ianto answers.
“Yeah, Jack told me about it. Tosh and Owen were their names, right?” Ianto nods. “Sorry about that. It sounded like the five of you were pretty close.”
“Thanks, and yes, we were. It’s been––difficult these last few months.” Ianto replies, a slightly melancholy undertone in his voice.
“I can imagine.” Mickey says sympathetically. Having nothing further to say, he returns to making his sandwich. Ianto, also unable to think of something more to say, resumes his tidying of the small room. For a while, no sounds but the clattering of dishes and the rushing of water fill the room. Then, after perching himself on top of another counter, sandwich in hand, plate to the right of him, Mickey restarts conversation, and human voices are heard once more. “So what’s it like, working here?” he asks curiously.
Ianto lets out a brief chuckle, then answers, “Never a dull moment. If you stay long enough, you’ll find that out very quickly.”
“Cool, I can’t wait!” Mickey answers, grinning. He takes a bite of his sandwich, and after finishing it, continues. “What about a typical work day? I mean, how busy is it usually?”
“Very.” Ianto replies, as he dries a dish and looks for a place to put it away. “That’s partly why Jack is so eager for you to join us. You and Martha both. With our seriously reduced team and the considerable activity in the area, there’s a lot to do, and barely enough of us to do it all. Gwen’s husband helps out some, but not enough to make much difference.” Ianto falls silent for a moment, having found someplace to put the dish, and focuses on getting it to fit. Mickey, for his part, takes another bite of his sandwich and ponders over what was just said, waiting for Ianto to finish what he is doing before asking another question. Five minutes or so later, Ianto finishes with that dish and returns to the small sink to start on another.
A couple of minutes into the washing, Mickey resumes his questioning of Ianto, asking, “When you said activity, what did you mean?”
Looking back at him, Ianto asks, “Didn’t Jack explain when you first contacted him?”
“He told me a bit about what Torchwood does, that you sometimes come in contact with aliens, and some about your current case, but nothing about any sort of activity.”
“Strange, I’d think if he told you all that, he’d have mentioned the Rift activity, too.”
“Nope, nothing about that. What is it?”
“Well, Cardiff, and by extension, Torchwood, is built on a big rift, a crack in time, you could say. That’s the reason why, among other things, we have to deal with aliens on occasion. The Rift is situated in such a way that just about anything can come through. We have a monitor built into the Hub to keep track of it all.”
Mickey’s eyes brighten at the prospect of having yet another technological toy to eventually play with, if he sticks around long enough. “You’ve got something to use to keep an eye on this crack in time?” he asks excitedly.
“Yep. I can show it to you if you want.” Ianto replies.
“That’d be great!” Mickey answers.
“Okay, just let me finish up here, and we can go.”
“I’ll help.” Mickey says, dropping down from his perch.
“No need. You have a lunch to finish.” Ianto returns.
“Well so do you.” The other man answers. “It’s no problem.” Ianto just shrugs and moves aside a little to give Mickey room at the counter. Splitting up the work, one man washing the remaining dishes, the other drying them and putting them away, enables the completion of the task in less time than it would otherwise take.
“Ready?” Ianto comments.
“If you are.” Mickey responds.
“Okay, follow me.” The young man returns. “Oh, and don’t forget your sandwich.” He adds.
“Oh, thanks.” Mickey replies. He turns back and takes the few steps to the larger counter, then picks up the sandwich, plate and all. “Okay, after you, tour guide.” He says, grinning. The two men head out the door, and go to the left and up from there. As before, they travel in silence, Mickey too interested in looking at his surroundings to say much of anything. Twenty minutes into the trek, and a few more away from reaching the Rift monitor, Mickey asks, “That pteradactyl in the lobby or whatever?”
Smiling, Ianto comments, “Oh, you met Myfanwy when you arrived, then?”
“Tried to avoid getting dive bombed by her, more like it, but yeah, I guess that’s one way to put it.”
“What about her?” Ianto continues.
“Well, this rift thing, is that how she got here?”
“We think so, but we aren’t sure from where, exactly. She’s a mystery, like everything else that comes through. We’re also still trying to figure out the Rift, how it works and everything. Speaking of which, here it is, our Rift monitor. Go on in and take a look.” Ianto concludes, indicating the room with a wave of his hand. Mickey goes in ahead, Ianto following him and stopping just to his left.
“How does it work?” Mickey asks, moving to the right slightly, so Ianto can explain if he so wishes.
Ianto, more than happy to oblige, says, “This screen here?” Mickey nods. “It’s a map of Cardiff. Whoever is keeping an eye on it is alerted at the sign of any Rift activity. Right now, we aren’t seeing anything because nothing is going on. If something were, it would show up onscreen. With a few more clicks of buttons and some careful observations, we’d be able to pinpoint the specific area where the activity is occurring.”
“So it’s like a high-tech GPS system then, eh?” Mickey asks.
“Yes, exactly.” The other man replies.
“Cool!” his companion comments approvingly. After a moment’s pause, he continues. “So for how long is it left running, and how long do shifts last?”
“Twenty-four seven for both.” The younger man answers.
“All day, every day?” Mickey exclaims.
“That’s right.” Ianto replies.
“Which of you lot has that responsibility?”
“Jack and I. When he’s not here, I am, and vice versa. On occasion, we both are, but mostly, that’s the arrangement.”
“When do you two sleep? Or do you at all?”
“Jack hardly ever does, but that’s just one of many reasons. Me, I go home if he asks me to, and get my rest that way.” The younger man answers, shrugging.
“That’s some arrangement!” Mickey remarks, shaking his head. He stops for a moment, then continues. “What’s it like, working with him? I mean, what sort of boss is he?”
The young Welshman cracks another smile, and says, “One of the most unconventional bosses you’ll ever have.”
“How do you mean? Besides, you know, the way he is with you?”
“Well, let’s see–– he can’t die, for one thing.”
“Wait, what?” Mickey exclaims.
“He can’t be killed. Depending on the means used in attempts on his life, it can take anywhere from a few minutes to a few days for him to come back, but he always does.”
“That must be weird!” Mickey remarks.
“It was at first, but we’re mostly used to it now.” The other man replies. “Hmmm…, what else?” he continues, thinking out loud. “He doesn’t really act like a boss most of the time.”
Mickey looks at him with puzzlement and asks, “What do you mean by that?”
“He treats us all as equals. Each of us does have something we specialize in, but that’s not all we do. Me, for example. While I mostly keep things running smoothly, like Jack said when we were first introduced, I also keep an eye on the Rift monitor. And when needed, I go out in the field with everyone else. Another example- the first time Martha helped us with a case, she wasn’t just involved in the medical and scientific elements of it. She also went undercover as a mole to help us bring down the organization we were after. Does that all make sense?”
“Perfect sense.” Mickey replies with understanding. “What else?” he asks.
“As you probably noticed, we’re all on a first-name basis, so that’s another thing.”
“I did notice that. Anything more?”
“Mmmm…, the best way to sum up how Torchwood works is we operate more like a family unit than a group of employees that take orders from a leader, commanding officer, however you want to describe it.”
“Sounds good!” Mickey comments, smiling.
“It is. It’s a great work environment.” The other man agrees. After a momentary silence, he says, “Ready to head back? Jack’s probably starting to wonder what’s taking so long.”
Chuckling, Mickey answers, “Probably. Lead the way.” Ianto turns back around and goes out, Mickey following him. They return to the control sector half an hour later.

Jack, now alone, says, “There you two are! I was wondering why you were taking so long to get back. Did you guys get lost or something?” he asks, as Ianto and Mickey reach the table.
“No, it just took a while to find what we were looking for.” Ianto answers, sitting down.
“Wow,, that stuff must have been pretty well hidden.” Jack comments, raising an eyebrow. “Did you find everything?” he adds.
“We did. It wouldn’t have taken so long if we’d gone the shorter way, but seeing as Mr. Smith here might soon be joining us on staff, I thought it’d be wise to get the long tour out of the way.”

“There’s another way to get there?” Mickey remarks, looking at Ianto.
Nodding, the younger man replies, “Yes, there are at least two different ways to get just about everywhere in here.”
Shaking his head in amazement for the second time that day, Mickey comments, “You must know this place left and right, backwards and forwards!”

“Yes, he does.” Jack adds in, nodding. Turning then to Ianto, he says, “Good call on which tour to take him on, Ianto.”
“Thank you.” He answers.
Switching his attention from Ianto to Mickey, Jack asks, “Was that tour okay for you?”

Smiling, Mickey replies, “Are you kidding? I love seeing stuff like that!” Indicating the entirety of the Hub with an inclusionary glance around, he adds excitedly, “This place is like a dream workplace for me, man! I don’t think I could ever get bored working here!”
Eyebrows raised in interest, Jack says, “Are you saying you’re planning to accept the position?”
“I’m seriously considering it, yeah.” Mickey answers, nodding.
“Great! We’d love to have you.” The captain answers.
“So Ianto told me.” The other man replies.
Jack laughs slightly, then says, “Did he? How about that.” Seeing the plate in Mickey’s grasp, he comments, “Looks like you kind of forgot about your lunch.”
Glancing down, Mickey answers, “Oh, yeah. Too many distractions, I guess.”
Indicating an empty chair, Jack invites, “Well, have a seat and go ahead & finish.”
“Thanks.” The young man replies, taking the offered seat.
“Sure. That reminds me- Ianto, I went ahead and wrapped up what was left of your lunch. It’s in the coffee room.”

“Thanks.” Ianto answers, giving Jack a quick kiss before leaving the room. “I’ll be right back.” Jack nods, then takes a brief glance at Mickey.

The other man catches him, and says, “I found out already, when Ianto and I were talking.”
“Really?” Jack replies, surprised. Mickey nods. “You okay with knowing that?” Jack inquires.
“Yep. It’s not my personal preference, but it doesn’t bother me either, so no worries.” Ianto returns moments later, and after kissing Jack once more, sits back down.

Matters of Choice- WIP (4/?)

2009-06-01T18:56:39Z

Title: "Matters of Choice"
Author: jackdavfan692
Category: AU (Sort Of)
Rating: PG-13 to R
Warnings: Slash (mostly non-sexual), a bit of strong language
Summary: The team's suspicion about the identity of their prime suspect is confirmed when Gwen is kidnapped by Weevils and returns the next morning, accompanied by a somewhat familiar face.

Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys, Tosh/Owen (briefly discussed), Martha and Mickey

Spoilers: S2, including "Exit Wounds"

Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, Doctor Who, or any of either series' characters. They're all just conduits for encouraging my writing creativity 8).
Mere minutes after the rest of the team loses contact with Gwen, Mickey turns around and says, “Jack?”
“Yup?”
“There’s some bloke waiting out front.”
“Lemme see.” Jack requests, coming over and standing behind Mickey’s chair to get a look. “Oh boy.” Jack remarks, sighing unhappily.
“What? Who is that?” Mickey asks, becoming slightly unsettled.
“Gwen’s husband, Rhys. He was probably talking to her when those Weevils took her down.” Jack explains.
“He doesn’t look too happy.” Jack shakes his head. “Should I not let him in, then, and hope he goes away?”
“No, go ahead. Maybe we’ll be able to calm him down.”
“You sure?” Mickey asks apprehensively.
“Yeah.” Jack answers, nodding.
“Okay, you got it.” Mickey replies, shrugging.

Barely waiting for the hatch to open fully, Rhys storms in. He sprints up the stairs with uncharacteristic speed, and makes a beeline for Jack, who is leaning against the doorframe of the control sector entrance, his hands in his pants pockets.
After taking a moment to catch his breath, Rhys asks demandingly, “What’s happened to Gwen? I was just talking to her on the phone, and the call suddenly cut out. What have you gotten her into this time, eh?”
“While she was looking for evidence to support a theory we have about the reason people are disappearing or winding up dead, some Weevils attacked her and took her away.” Jack explains evenly, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
Rhys guffaws scornfully, then says, “Well, that’s just great!” He scoffs again, then continues. “It’s always something with you people! Since I found out what you lot do, I’ve been shot trying to help a whale from outer space, my wedding was almost ruined when my then-fianceé was impregnated by a parasitic alien, and the mother came to collect her monstrosity of a baby, a few months ago, I had to sit on my bum for hours, wondering if my wife was safe, while she and the rest of you tried to keep Cardiff from being blown to bits by some bloke being ordered around by a crazy relative of yours, and now this! You’ve turned both our lives upside-down!”
“Rhys, just calm down, okay?” Jack says. “We’ll get her back unharmed, I promise.”
“Calm down? Don’t tell me to bloody calm down! My wife’s been kidnapped by Weevils, Weevils, for chrissakes!” he shouts.

“Take it easy, man.” Mickey, standing behind Rhys, says, taking his arm reassuringly.
But Rhys will have none of it. Instead, he throws off Mickey’s hand, and has another go at Jack. “You had better damn well hope nothing’s happened to Gwen yet!”
“We’re doing everything we can to get her back quickly and safely, okay? We always do when something like this happens.”
“Oh yeah? What about uh, what were their names, Tosh and Owen, right?”
“Yes.” Jack replies stiffly.
“They didn’t quite make it through the last mission, did they?”
“No, they didn’t” Jack answers, his tone becoming edgy.
“I guess you didn’t do everything you could in that case, did you?” Rhys says, his tone accusatory.
The last remark strikes a nerve in Jack, and his tone abruptly takes on a quality of barely contained rage. “Get out.”
“What was that?” Rhys challenges.
“I said get out.” Jack replies.
“Oh, you want me to go, do you?” Rhys says confrontationally. “No, I don’t think I will.”
“Get out right now, or we’re going to have a big problem.” Jack answers, taking a threatening step closer.
“I think we’ve already got one.” Rhys responds, standing firm.

“Guys, guys, calm down. This isn’t helping anything.” Martha says, drawing closer.

“You really don’t wanna take this any further, believe me.” Jack says, completely ignoring Martha’s plea.
“Is that so?” Rhys replies, taking a step closer to Jack. The two men begin to circle one another, sizing each other up. Even though no other tell tale gestures are being made, it is obvious to the room’s other three occupants that both men are just spoiling for a fight.

It is then that Martha completely enters the fray. “Okay, you two, that’s enough!” she exclaims loudly and forcefully, getting in between the pair. “We’re all worried about Gwen, but going at each other like this isn’t going to solve anything, is it? Is it?” Though neither Jack or Rhys answer, they do stop momentarily. “That’s better.” She remarks. “Now, Rhys, is it?” Rhys nods. “Tell me, do you think taking such cheap shots at Captain Harkness, daring him to fight, is going to improve how quickly Gwen is found?”
“No, probably not.” Rhys replies morosely.
“Right. Now Jack?” Jack gives no answer, and continues to glare at Rhys. “Jack!”

“What?” he answers sharply, finally giving Martha his full attention.
“Do you really think any of this is going to make finding Gwen easier?” Again, no answer. “Well, do you?” Martha presses.
Jack’s fit of rage subsides as abruptly as it had flared up, and he answers quietly, “No.”
“That’s right, it won’t. So how about the two of you take a little time to calm down, then we’ll discuss how best to get Gwen back, okay?”

“Alright.” Rhys says resignedly.

“Fine.” Jack replies shortly. With that, he stalks off in the direction of his office. The others watch him go, every one of them, save Rhys, whose worry about his wife’s well being is now clearly visible in both his expression and posture, observing Jack’s departure with a mix of shock and surprise.

“Wow, that was…unexpected.” Mickey remarks, once Jack is out of earshot. “I’ve never seen him like that! Any of you?” Martha shakes her head.

“I have, once.” Ianto says. “It’s not very reassuring, especially when you’re the target. Doesn’t happen that often, though.”
“Thank god for that.” Martha comments, relieved. “Are you going to go talk to him?” she asks, changing the subject.
“Yeah, right now.” Ianto replies, standing up. “We’ll be out in a little while.”
“Okay.” Martha replies. The conversation ended for the time being, Ianto goes off to catch up with Jack. Martha turns her attention to Rhys and Mickey. As a means to restart conversation, she looks at Rhys and says, “You know, if it helps at all, Gwen’s probably going to be fine. I’m Martha, by the way. We weren’t properly introduced.”

“Hi.” Rhys replies, holding out his hand. They shake hands, and Rhys continues. “What makes you so sure Gwen’s alright?”
“If the way the Weevils are operating is anything like the way we suspect, then the ones who took Gwen are going to bring he to their leader.” Martha explains.
“When did that happen? Since when did they have a leader?”
“We just started putting the pieces together a few weeks ago, but this much we do have: the Weevils' actions are being directed by a third party, a leader of some sort, and we suspect that leader is Owen."
Rhys’s mouth drops open, and he exclaims, “The doctor?” Martha nods. “But, wasn’t he killed when the nuclear plant shut down?”
“It doesn’t look like it, no.” Martha answers.
“How’s that possible?” Rhys asks.
“You met him briefly at your wedding, right?” Rhys nods. “Did you notice anything strange about him?”
“No.” Rhys replies, shaking his head.
“Nothing at all? He didn’t say anything that sounded strange to you?”
“No, not really. I mean, when that thing had to be taken out of Gwen’s belly, he asked me to do it because he had a bad hand, but I didn’t think anything of it.”
Martha nods understandingly and says, “He didn’t ask you to do that justalready dead, and didn’t trust he’d be able to do it without risking hurting Gwen.”
“Are––are you telling me he was a bloody zombie?” Rhys exclaims.
“Of a sort, yeah. The last time I came here to help the team with a case, Owen was shot and killed. Jack went to some old church, and came back with this weird glove. When he used it on Owen, it brought him back to life. Well, halfway, at least. His heart and other vital organs, except for his brain, were no longer functioning, so by scientific definition, he was clinically dead. Owen was basically a walking corpse.”
“This is too bloody weird!” Rhys exclaims, shaking his head. “So, is that how he managed to survive the nuclear plant shut down?”
“No, there’s more to it than that.” Martha explains.
“There’s more?” Rhys exclaims, wide-eyed.
“Yeah. When Owen came back, he brought something else with him— some kind of force, a force of Death, I guess you could call it. Owen fought it, and won. Then, he absorbed the energy from it into his body. We think that the substances from the plant caused some sort of reaction between the energy he was given when the glove resurrected him, and the energy he absorbed after fighting and beating this deathly force. That reaction, whatever it was, could possibly have reversed his state, making him fully alive again.”
Shaking his head, Rhys says, “This would all sound like bollocks to me, except that I’ve seen some of the things you lot deal with, so nothing’s likely to surprise me now.”
Shrugging, Martha comments, “That’s what Torchwood does to most people’s perspective.” Rhys nods. Anyway, all of that is why we think the “Weevil king”, as we refer to this leader, is Owen, and why I’m so sure Gwen’s going to be alright. If there’s something left of Owen in this new being, whether it’s trace memories of how he became what he is, or some remnant of humanity, seeing Gwen should bring that stuff to the surface. Once Owen recognizes her, he’ll probably do everything he can to keep Gwen from getting hurt further, or, god forbid, killed.”
“I hope you’re right.” Rhys answers.
“I’m pretty sure I am.” Martha replies.

Ianto, meanwhile, finally catches up with Jack, who is a few feet from the door of his office. Ianto grabs him gently by the shoulder to get his attention. When Jack turns and looks at him, Ianto sees an expression not of annoyance or smoldering anger, as he had been expecting, but one of profound sadness and misery. That look explains to Ianto all he needs to know about why Jack lashed out so intensely after Rhys’s remark about their fallen colleagues. Following that realization, two of the many roles each man plays in the relationship switches. At the present moment, it is Ianto offering Jack comfort, rather than the reverse. As the two men tarry outside the door, Ianto takes Jack in his arms and holds him close for a few minutes. Before they cover the remaining distance to the door, Ianto kisses Jack on the forehead and asks, “Do you need to talk?” Jack nods. “Okay, come on.” His arm around the small of Jack’s back, Ianto gently guides the slightly taller man toward, then into, the unoccupied office, closing the door behind them. Jack sinks into his chair, and Ianto, unable to locate a seat of his own, perches on a mostly clear corner of Jack’s desk. “Drink?” the young Welshman asks.
“No thanks.” Jack replies, shaking his head. “I’m trying to ease up on going straight to that when something just totally throws me for a loop. Thanks for offering, though.”
“Sure.” Ianto replies, leaning down and kissing Jack on the cheek. After a brief pause, Ianto asks with concern, “So, what’s the matter?”
Jack sighs and leans back in his chair, then says, “Do you think Rhys is right? Am I mostly to blame for us losing Tosh and Owen? Tell me honestly.”
Ianto looks somewhat reprovingly at him and replies, “No, of course not! They both willingly made the choice they did. How did Gwen put it when we were getting ready to fight off the Daleks?” He pauses for a moment, trying to recall. When Gwen’s words come back to him, Ianto says, “They both chose ‘to go down fighting’. It was their decision, you didn’t force them into it. Even if you had managed to get away from your brother sooner, Tosh and Owen would still have made the same choice.”
Resting his head on his hand, Jack answers unhappily, “I know, but…” He abruptly falls silent, and slouches in his chair with a sigh.
“But what?” Ianto urges gently.
Jack gives another mournful sigh, then answers, “I still feel partly responsible for what happened to them, because I wasn’t there. I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but I do.”
Ianto slides off the corner of the desk he’d been occupying and goes over to Jack, stopping to the left of him. Jack glances at him, then is prevented from turning away again when Ianto kindly lifts his head, so they are looking in one another’s eyes. Jack’s attention now focused on him, Ianto says reassuringly, “Listen to me— What happened to Tosh and Owen is not your fault, alright?” The other man does not answer. “Alright?” Ianto presses, his tone more firm. Finally, Jack nods in agreement. “Good, that’s what I like to see.” Ianto adds, giving Jack a kiss. “Better?”
“Yeah, thanks.” The other man replies. “I didn’t scare Martha and Mickey off with my outburst, did I?”
“I think they were surprised more than anything. Of the three of us, I’m the only one who’s ever seen you like that before, so it was probably a bit of a shock to them. Still, I don’t think they’ll be going anywhere. Neither of them seemed to be in a hurry to take off.”
“That’s good to know. What about Rhys? Is he still down there?”
“Yes.” Ianto answers, nodding. “Do you think you’re ready to go back down?” Jack nods. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. Martha was exactly right— all of us are worried about Gwen. It was just that at that moment, Rhys and I weren’t expressing our concern about her very constructively, and things got out of hand.” Jack says pensively, shrugging. “I’d really like to mend fences with Rhys, if I can.”
“Okay, come on then.” Ianto says, taking a few steps toward the door, then stopping. Jack gets up out of his chair and soon joins the younger man waiting for him.
Before they go out the door, Jack turns to Ianto, and after giving him a kiss, says, “Thanks for lending an ear.”
“You’re welcome.” The young Welshman replies, smiling, then returning the affectionate gesture. The pair walks back in the direction of the control center side by side, reaching it a few minutes later.

Martha, Mickey, and Rhys all look up as the two men come in, Ianto slightly in front of Jack. On his way to talk to Rhys, Jack passes Martha and Mickey, both clearly relieved to see he has calmed down. Jack pulls out a chair close to Rhys, then crossing his arms and resting them on top of it, turns to the stocky man and says contritely, “Sorry I went off on you like that, Rhys. It’s been kind of tough around here lately.”
“It’s okay.” Rhys answers graciously. “Sorry for what I said about Tosh and Owen, that was over the line. I’m just really worried about Gwen.”
“I know.” Jack replies, nodding. “All of us are.” He pauses for a minute, then continues. “Are we good?” he asks, offering his hand reservedly.
“Yeah, we are.” Rhys answers, nodding and shaking Jack’s hand.
“Great.” Jack remarks, smiling slightly. “If you wanna stick around so you can stay in the loop about where things are at with finding Gwen, there’s a couch somewhere up here you can sleep on.”
“Thanks, I might do that.”
“No problem.”
Apologies offered and accepted on both sides, Rhys get up to go, saying, “Well, I’d better leave you all alone so you can talk.”
“Leave us alone? What for?” Jack inquires curiously.
“You’re all going to discuss how to get Gwen back, right?” Rhys asks.
“Yeah.” Jack answers, nodding.
“Well, that counts as Torchwood business, doesn’t it? It’s not the sort of thing outsiders like me should be involved in, right?”
“Hardly!” Jack answers, looking at Rhys quizzically. “Your wife’s been kidnapped, Rhys! It’s only reasonable that we let you be involved in figuring out how to get her back.”
“Really?” Rhys replies, looking surprised.
“Yeah, sit back down and stay awhile.”
“Okay, thanks.” Jack nods in acknowledgement, then sits down himself.
“Now, before we start making up a plan to rescue Gwen, there are some things you need to know first, Rhys.”
“Like what?”
“Details about our current case that have some bearing on this new situation we’re facing, mostly. I’m guessing you only know the basic stuff about the case?”
“Actually, while you and Ianto were talking, Martha, gave me the background on who you all think the Weevil leader is, and how he ended up that way.”
“She did?” Jack asks, taken aback.
“Yep.” Rhys replies.
“Good.” The Torchwood leader remarks, nodding approvingly. Turning to Martha, Jack says, “Thanks for bringing him up to speed, Martha.”

“You’re really okay with me doing that?” Martha asks somewhat nervously.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’m actually really glad you did, because now that Rhys knows what happened to Owen and how he ended up in that role as king of the Weevils, we can get right down to discussing how to rescue Gwen.” After a brief pause, Jack says, “So, let’s get down to business, yeah?” The other four individuals in the room nod in agreement. After adjusting the positions of their chairs to improve their proximity to each other, the team begins conversing about how best to rescue Gwen.

The king of the Weevils is rudely awakened from a nap on his favored perch in the old, abandoned church by the racket of his soldiers returning with another hostage. He lifts his head, and after uttering a vocalization that can only be described as an annoyed grumble, stands up and makes his way to his waiting subjects.
Watching him, a hidden observer familiar with the seemingly alien race would notice marked physical differences between him and his minions. Most immediately obvious to such an observer would be the Weevil leader’s unique clothing. Rather than the uniform-like jumpsuit commonly worn by them, he appears to be dressed in a set of jeans, a somewhat close-fitting shirt, and a leather jacket. The mostly nondescript jeans are navy blue in color, with a snap pocket on the upper front of the right leg. The shirt, though marred by scorch marks and the occasional small hole here and there, is light blue in color, with a pattern of some form in the center. Finally, the leather jacket, completely unbuttoned, save for its sleeves, is black in color, with a prominent, horizontally ribbed pattern on its upper chest section. Second most noticeable to an observer would be the difference in the Weevil lord’s carriage. Instead of the slouching, shuffling gait characteristic of the Weevil race, his posture is erect, his walk rapid and decidedly human. Lastly, if the observer in question ventured to get close enough, he or she would notice one other thing. While not a glaring difference, except if seen up close, this final thing might give that observer pause, should they catch the Weevil leader’s gaze. In contrast to the unreadable, at times animalistic look in the eyes of most Weevils, his is rational and intelligent, could even be said to have a slight melancholy to it. Striking as these differences are, a perfectly reasonable explanation exists for them. While surprising, possibly even shocking, it is hardly mysterious. This reason? The Weevil king is not a Weevil at all, but the former Dr. Owen Harper, chief medical officer of Torchwood.
The transformed Owen soon reaches the subjects he grudgingly accepted after escaping from the nuclear plant, and prepares to rouse the new hostage for questioning. When he sees who his soldiers have brought him, however, Owen’s rationality and remaining humanity, mostly dominated by the animalistic layers of his transformed mind, suddenly resurface. There, bruised, beaten, and unconscious, lies Gwen Cooper, his former colleague. He dismisses the pack of Weevils with a grunt and a curt jerk of his head toward the exit, and they depart as noisily as they came. Once the Weevils disappear into the bowels of the ancient church, the former Dr. Harper goes over to see to his unwelcome hostage. He crouches down, and putting his lately neglected medical expertise to use, conducts an observational overview of Gwen’s physical condition. Having finished that, and not seeing anything of concern, he gently & carefully picks her up and carries her over to his favorite relaxation spot, putting her down as delicately as possible, so as not to wake her and risk scaring the bejesus out of her. After observing her for a brief time to assure himself she will remain in an unconscious state for at least a few more minutes, the reluctant Weevil king slips off to get an item or two to make her more comfortable. He finds the enormous stockpile of items within several minutes and starts looking for what he wants. Abruptly, he remembers that the mountain of objects was where his former boss had found the thing that had caused all his trouble in the first place. He pushes the thought out of his mind then, and continues searching through the pile. Some minutes later, he finds what he’s looking for–– a blanket and a pillow. That done, he returns to the still unconscious Gwen. He covers her with the blanket first, then ever so carefully, slides the pillow under her head, after which he recedes into the shadows to wait out whatever remains of her current state.
He doesn’t need to wait long. Revived by the shifting of her head and neck, Gwen opens her eyes and looks up, wondering aloud, “Where the hell am I?” She sits up to get a better glimpse at her surroundings, but then nearly doubles over as she feels a sharp ache hit her head. While loathe to have her see him in his grotesque state so soon after her abduction, Owen, seeing her in physical distress, lets his reservations go by the wayside, and emerges from the shadows. Upon seeing the weevil, Gwen readies herself to fight it off if necessary. Then, she sees the clothes it is wearing, and all thoughts of being in peril and needing to defend herself vanish from her mind.
Instead, with her hand pressed to her mouth in shock and disbelief, Gwen exclaims, “Oh my god, Owen?” The figure facing her nods. Without the slightest hesitation, Gwen stands up, walks quickly over to him, and embraces him, saying quietly, “We’ve missed you so much back at the Hub.” She suddenly grows faint, and Owen, noticing her abrupt weakness, takes her by the shoulder and walks her back to where he had left her some minutes before. Sitting down slowly, she says, “Thanks.” Owen nods in response. After rubbing her temples for a moment, Gwen looks up. Shaking her head incredulously, she remarks, “I still can’t believe you’re alive! That you managed to survive your encounter with those substances in the plant is almost impossible to comprehend, yet here you are!” Owen just shrugs, then leans against one of the wood-paneled columns to the side and front of the window pew Gwen is sitting in. Rubbing her temples again, Gwen glances up, taking stock of Owen’s altered appearance for the first time since being roughly deposited onto the floor of the church. Seeing Owen’s face, Gwen’s eyes grow misty with tears, and she says sorrowfully, “Oh, Owen, you’re so…” Gwen trails off.
‘Hideous.’ That is the first word that comes to Owen’s mind as he listens to what Gwen is saying.
As if reading his mind, Gwen gently takes him by the arm and pulls him down enough that he is sitting next to her, then says, “Oh, it doesn’t matter. What’s important is that you’re alive.” She hugs him tightly again. As Owen allows Gwen to draw him close in her embrace, he feels a few droplets of moisture run down the side of his neck and underneath the collar of his shirt. It is then that he realizes just how much his former co-workers truly cared about him. Moved by the realization, he closes his eyes, slightly tightens his grip around her, and rests his chin on top of her right shoulder. The pair remains in that position for a full minute, then Gwen finally pulls away, wiping an eye with the back of her hand. Owen, now even more keen to find out what on earth Gwen was doing that she ended up in the hands of his soldiers, goes off to find something to make communication easier. He returns some minutes later, holding a notepad and pen. Gwen looks at him in confusion at first, then remembers he is no longer human, and so probably cannot speak like one. Owen sits down across from her and scribbles something on the pad, then hands her the sheet.
‘What are you doing around here?’ it reads. After looking over it, Gwen replies, “A couple of weeks ago, Jack figured out something that pointed to you, or rather, the Weevil king, as the mastermind behind all these attacks and kidnappings committed by Weevils. We all conditionally agreed with that, but wanted to be absolutely sure, so I volunteered to look into it. You can probably guess about the rest.” Gwen pauses for a moment, then looking unhappily at Owen, adds, “Since you’re here, I’m guessing Jack’s initial conclusion was right?” Slouching a little and hanging his head slightly, Owen nods. “I’m sure you had good reasons.” Gwen says, putting an arm around him in an attempt to comfort him. Surprised by her reaction, but glad of it nonetheless, Owen continues with the conversation. Again, he writes something on a sheet of paper, and hands it to her. This one reads, ‘How’s Tosh handling all this?’ Gwen looks at what Owen has written, and a mournful, devastated expression crosses her face. Noticing it, Owen quickly and furiously writes something else down and gives the paper to Gwen. It reads, ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Her eyes welling up with tears again, Gwen answers, “Tosh is… gone, Owen.”
He starts up, and with a bit of difficulty, asks aloud, “Wha-at do you mean, she’s “gone”?”
Forgetting her reawakened sorrow for the moment, Gwen exclaims, “Oh my gosh, Owen, you can still talk!”
“Of course I can bloody talk!” he snaps. His voice is gravelly, and if the volume and tone are just right, borders on being a growl, but is still more or less recognizable as human. Owen stops for a moment to calm down and let sink in what, admittedly, he didn’t know either: that in spite of his radical physical transformation, he is still capable of understandable speech. Continuing, Owen says, “I’m sorry. I haven’t been around any other people in a while, so my manners are a bit rusty.”
“It’s alright.” Gwen replies.
Shaking his head plaintively, Owen asks, “So, how did it happen?”
“Jack’s brother shot her while Ianto, Captain John and I were locked in the cells.”
“Where was Jack?” Owen asks.
“Do you remember when he and Captain John suddenly disappeared after all the explosives around the city went off?” Owen nods. “When I asked him where they’d gone, Jack said the two of them were transported back to Cardiff at a time before the city had been built. He said his brother stabbed him, then told Captain John to bury him, and he did.”
“So Jack’s brother was running everything, then?” Gwen nods. “Did Jack say why his brother was so pissed off?”
“Something about the two of them getting separated when they were children, but that’s all he said.”
“That’s quite a grudge.” Owen remarks. “Anyway. So Jack was buried six feet under. Tell me the rest.” He adds sadly.
“Since Jack was trapped beneath Cardiff thousands of years in the past, he wasn’t able to get back and let the three of us out until it was too late for Tosh.”
“So she bled to death.” Gwen nods unhappily. “Where was she hit?”
“In the stomach, I think.” Gwen replies.
Owen closes his eyes, sighs, and leans against the column again. He then says, “Oh god, poor Tosh. In all that pain, and she spent her last moments comforting me and calming me down! Damn it!” he exclaims frustratingly.
Gwen lets him take some time to calm down. A few minutes later, he sits back down, and Gwen takes the opportunity to tell him one last thing. “Owen?”
“What?” he replies sedately.
“There’s one more thing. She left us all a message. She wanted youacknowledged it. As he thinks about it, coupled with his new knowledge of her feelings for him, Owen cannot deny the truth of it. Another wave of sorrow abruptly washes over him, and he sheds a few isolated tears. He quickly brushes them away, and does his best to bury the lingering feelings that brought them on in the first place. The next thought Owen formulates in his mind defeats that attempt, however. His earlier realization gives way to another: he’s devastated by Tosh’s passing. His feelings are not due only to the fact that he had lost a friend and colleague, but also to the knowledge that he hadn’t told her how he felt, and now, never could. Those two thoughts bring up his feelings of loss once more, and set the tears to falling again. This time, he lets them run their course.
“Owen, can I come in?” Gwen calls from outside the room.
“Sure, if you want.” he answers, as he sits up and wipes his face with the sleeve of his jacket.
“Are you okay?” Gwen asks as she comes in.
“Yeah, fine. What’s up?”
“Martha could probably help you out, if you’d come back to the Hub with me.” Gwen offers.
"Martha’s back?” Owen remarks.
“Yeah, and another friend of Jack’s, named Mickey Smith.”
“Wow, only a few months, and both of us have already been replaced? That didn’t take long.” Owen says bitterly.
Giving him a look that is both angry and hurt, Gwen replies, “That’s unfair, Owen! If you knew how miserable the three of us have been since we lost you and Tosh, you wouldn’t even think that, much less say it!” Gwen looks away then, and a tense silence follows.
It is broken minutes later by Owen. Recognizing that his words have cut her deeply, he attempts to make amends, saying apologetically, “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just…” he lapses into silence.
“I know you’ve been through a lot. I’m just trying to help.” Gwen replies.
“I know. Anyway, Martha... . You said you thought she could help me.” Gwen nods. “How do you mean?”
“Well, you know, to figure out what happened to you, and how it happened. That’s the reason Jack asked her to work with us again, so she could explain all that for us.” Gwen pauses for a moment, then continues. “That’s why you’re doing all this, right? You’re trying to answer those same questions?”
“Yeah.” Owen answers, nodding. “I know now that was the wrong way to do it, but I was operating on just instinct at the time, so this plan of directed attacks and kidnappings was all I was able to come up with.” He leans back against the wall and sighs unhappily.
“I figured as much.” Gwen says. “So, will you come back with me?”
“Do you really think that would be a good idea?” Owen asks.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Well, directive, for one thing. I’d bet that because I’m the mastermind behind everything, the order is “shoot to kill.”
“It’s not, actually. When Jack realized what role you might be playing in all this, he was devastated. He decided that because you’d worked for Torchwood, and had been such a great team member, we’d take a “wait and see” approach to what to do with you.”
“What do you mean?” Owen inquires, surprised.
“If it turned out that you, as king of the Weevils, were ordering all the attacks and kidnappings, one of us would meet with you and make a deal.”
“A deal? Like what?”
“Something like this: If you stopped giving those sort of orders, we’d give you the opportunity to work with Martha to find out what had caused your transformation, what you’d become, and if it might be possible to reverse it.”
“You’re serious?” Owen remarks.
“Yeah.” Gwen answers.
“I never would have guessed Jack would do that.”
“It shouldn’t be a surprise. You know how much Jack cares about all of us.” Owen’s only response is a nod. “So, will you come with me?”
“Well, what about all my “subjects”? There’s no way Jack’s going to put up with a bunch of Weevils hanging around outside the Hub!”
“They do whatever you tell them to, don’t they?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, so if you order them to not follow you, or at least, not hurt anyone, they won’t, right?”
“I guess not.” Owen answers, shrugging.
“Then there isn’t a problem. One last time: will you or won’t you come with me?”
“Yeah, I will.” Owen finally replies.
“Good. We’ll go tomorrow, then?”
“Yeah, tomorrow.” Owen answers, nodding.
“Great!” Gwen says happily. “Goodnight then, I guess, and thanks.”
“Yeah, goodnight, and you’re welcome.”
Gwen then wraps the blanket draped over her shoulders closely around her body and goes back to the pew Owen had left her on hours earlier. Tired from the day’s experience, she falls asleep immediately.

Mid-morning the following day, Gwen and Owen arrive at the Hub’s main entrance. Speaking into her mic, Gwen says, “Hello, anyone there?” Immediately, in her earpiece, she hears a male voice address her by name. “Mickey, is that you?” she continues. The voice answers in the affirmative. “Hi. I’m here, and I have Owen with me.” Gwen finishes.

A few seconds later, inside the Hub, Mickey turns to Jack and says, “Gwen’s back, and she’s got the Weevil King… um, I mean, Dr. Harper, with her.”
“She does?” Jack exclaims.
“Yeah.” The other man answers.
“Let me talk to her.” The captain says, motioning Mickey to get up and let him sit down.
“Sure.” Mickey replies, getting up.
“Gwen, you okay?” Jack asks.
“Yeah. A little bruised and achy, but otherwise fine.” She replies, at the other end of the line.
“Good, I’m glad. Mickey said you had Owen with you?”
“Yep.”
“How’d you manage to convince him to come?” Jack inquires curiously.
“Just with a bit of urging and reassurance.”
“Good work, Gwen.” Jack compliments. “How does he seem? I mean, do you think we have anything to worry about, in terms of behavior and such?”
“No. Except for how different he looks, he’s still the same old Owen.”
“Good, good.” Jack replies, relieved. “What about communication? I’m guessing that’s gonna be sort of difficult?”
“No, actually. He can still talk, apparently.” Gwen responds.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, that’s great to know! Give me a minute or so, then I’ll let you guys in, okay?”
“Sure, no problem.” Gwen answers.

Jack turns away from the monitor and addresses the rest of the team. “Okay guys, a few recommendations before I bring Gwen and Owen in. First, Owen looks nothing like he did before the accident. I just want you guys to be prepared. Second, as challenging as it’s gonna be, I want you all to interact with and treat him exactly like you did before all of this happened–– the attacks on Cardiff a few months ago, Owen being trapped in the nuclear plant and becoming what he is now, these recent attacks and kidnappings by Weevils–– in spite of all that, okay?” All four addressees, Martha, Ianto, Mickey, and the recently roused Rhys, nod. “One last thing- Judging from what Gwen told me, I think it’s safe to say there’s nothing about Owen we need to worry about. Still, he has been through a trauma, actually a double one, so just be alert.” Again, a nod of assent from the quartet in response. “Okay, I’m gonna let them in.”

The circular, heavy, metal door rolls to the open position, and Gwen comes in, followed by Owen, who hangs back a little once they reach the center of the room. Jack is waiting there to meet them, Mickey, Martha, Ianto, and Rhys haphazardly lined up in a row behind him. Upon seeing her, Jack walks over to where she and Owen are standing. After giving her a gentle hug, Jack says, “Good to see you’re alright.”
“Thanks.” Gwen says in response.

Rhys, who, in spite of his eagerness to see her, had waited until Jack finished doing do, now rushes over, indescribably relieved that his wife has returned safely. He hugs her tightly and kisses her lovingly, easing the strength of his embrace when she flinches a little. “Sorry, love. I’m just happy to see you, is all.” He says quietly, after concluding another affectionate kiss.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” She answers, smiling. “I missed you, too.” With that, Gwen returns her husband’s shower of kisses with one of her own, then the couple returns to the lineup behind Jack.

The brief celebration of Gwen’s safe return concluded, it is Owen’s turn to present himself. Despite the cloud of nervousness that had been hanging over him since he and Gwen had set out a couple of hours earlier, Owen offers a greeting first. “Hi, Jack.” He says, taking a few tentative steps closer.
“Hey, Owen. How’ve you been?” Jack asks.
“I’ve been better.” He answers.
Jack nods slightly, then does something, at least in Owen’s view, wholly unexpected, under the current circumstances. Jack covers the remainder of the distance between them, then takes Owen by the shoulder and enfolds him in a fervent embrace, saying softly, his eyes closed, “I’m glad we didn’t lose you after all.”
“ ‘Course you didn’t, I’m not that easy to get rid of.” Owen replies, smiling slightly.

“No, you aren’t.” Jack answers, chuckling and smiling a little. He gives Owen another hug, then turns around and says, “Well, come on, guys! He isn’t gonna bite!” The other team members freeze, certain that Jack has just made a serious faux pas, and wait tensely for Owen’s response.
“Very funny.” Owen answers, cracking a smile.
“Sorry, couldn’t help it.” Jack replies sheepishly, shrugging and flashing a small smile.
Their amiable, joking exchange causes the tension to dissipate, and finally disappear. The others laugh, then begin to greet Owen themselves. Ianto goes first. In spite of the often antagonistic relationship the two men had had, Ianto’s greeting takes the form of a friendly hug.
“That’s more like it.” Jack remarks in a stern tone, his arms folded in front of him. Martha greets Owen next, her hello taking the same form as Ianto’s.

Rhys goes third, offering his hand and saying, “Hi, good to see ‘ya.”
“Thanks.” Owen returns, shaking Rhys’s hand. Finally, he comes to Mickey. As he had done with Jack, Owen initiates the exchange of greetings. “And you must be Mickey.” He says, extending his hand politely.

“That’s me.” The other man replies, taking the offered hand. “Glad to meet you, mate.”
“Same here.” Owen answers.

An awkward silence follows, not one member of the assembled group sure what to say next. A couple of minutes pass in that fashion, then Ianto makes an attempt to usher the others into a setting where they can more easily interact socially with their newly, though likely temporarily, returned colleague.
“Well, why don’t we go upstairs?” Ianto asks in a tone he hopes sounds relaxed and friendly. The others nod in agreement and wait for him to continue. “Alright, come on then.” He turns around and starts off, the other team members following soon after, with Jack, Gwen, and Rhys in the rear of the group.

Noticing the three of them are momentarily alone, Gwen asks, “Jack, are we going to start questioning Owen today?”
Shaking his head, Jack answers, “No, not for a couple of days, at least. If we wanna get a substantial amount of information on what Owen’s become, Martha’s gonna need to a do a lot of tests, so he’s probably going to be stuck here for awhile. Taking that into consideration, he’ll need some time to readjust.” Gwen nods understandingly. “We’ll start asking him about all the incidents we’re investigating once that’s happened. Until then, we’ll just leave it alone.”
“Got it.” Gwen replies, nodding.

Having fallen slightly behind during the brief conversation, the trio rushes to catch up, reaching Ianto and the rest of the group halfway up the stairwell, stopped just outside another conference room.
“Sorry we kept you guys waiting.” Jack says, as he comes up the stairs ahead of Gwen and Rhys.
“Hey man, you’re the boss.” Mickey remarks matter-of-factly, shrugging.
Jack’s characteristic grin briefly appearing for the first time in a long while, he replies, “True, but just because I’m the boss, it doesn’t mean I should never be called on it if I make a mistake.” He then turns to Ianto and says, “After you.” The young Welshman nods, and the others follow him in, Jack sneaking a kiss as he passes Ianto in the doorway.

The team members, old, new, and current, sit around the table in awkward silence, their new location apparently no more conducive to friendly, informal conversation than the one they had just left.
Eventually, Owen, no longer able to endure the uncertainty about what will be done with him now that he has returned to Torchwood, breaks the silence. “So, what’s the plan?” he asks.
“What do you mean, ‘plan’?” Jack replies, not grasping the subject of the question.
“You know, what to do with me now that I’m here. Are you planning to study me? Question me about what’s been going on? Both? Give me details.”
“We’ll question you eventually.” Jack replies. “But for now, Martha’s going to do some lab tests to help us and you figure out just what you are.”
“Sounds like a good place to start.” Owen agrees. “Well, Dr. Jones, should we get to work?” he remarks, glancing at Martha.

“If you’re ready.” She answers, shrugging
“Not much else for me to do, is there?” Owen replies, the slightest tinge of bitterness in his voice.
“No, I guess not.” Martha says somberly. “Should we start heading for the lab?” Owen nods in response. “Okay, then let’s go.” Owen, not saying a word, gets out of his chair and follows Martha out. Just before the two of them go down the stairs, Martha turns around and calls back, “Mickey?”

“Yeah?” he returns.
“Would you mind putting the information in as we go along?” Martha asks.
“No, not at all.” Mickey replies.
“Great, thanks.”
“No problem.” That said, Mickey gets up and makes his way to Owen and Martha, waiting for him at the top of the stairwell. As soon as Mickey reaches them, they head down the stairs, leaving the two couples alone at the table.

Jack and Ianto leave their seats, followed immediately by Gwen and Rhys, and the four of them watch the trio descend the remaining stairs.
“Owen seemed to handle all of that well.” Gwen comments, trying to sound pleasant.
“As well as can be expected from someone who’s been through what he has.” Jack remarks.

Ianto, seemingly the only one of the three to pick up on the sadness in Jack’s voice, says, “While we were waiting for the three of you to get here, I checked on the Rift monitor. It’s picked up some unusual activity I think you should take a look at.”
“Activity I should… Oh, right.” Jack replies, catching a brief glimmer of mischief in Ianto’s eyes. “Sure, I’d be happy to look at it and give you my two cents. Do you wanna do that now?”
“If there isn’t anything else you need to do first, yes.” Ianto answers.
“Nope, not a thing. Let’s go.”
“Okay.” Ianto replies, a mischievous smile appearing on his face for a moment. The two men go out the doorway, then take a right turn, disappearing from sight within a few minutes.

“Where are they off to?” Rhys asks, as he and Gwen watch the pair walk away.
“To have some alone time, I think.” His wife answers.
“Alone time?” Rhys questions. Gwen nods. After a moment, it suddenly dawns on Rhys exactly what she means. “Oh, alone time. Got it.” He pauses again, then says, “What do you fancy doing? More work, I’m guessing?”
“No.” Gwen replies, shaking her head. “Why don’t we take that long overdue pre-work coffee break?”
Rhys brightens at the suggestion, and says, “Alright."

Paths To Redemption- Parts V and VI

2009-01-05T00:34:17Z

Okay, after a very long hiatus, here's more of my AWE fanfic 8). Quick note: part five ends a bit abruptly, since I haven't thought of anything to add yet, and the beginning of part six is missing. Both are in progress (as is the whole fic :P), so keep that in mind when you're reading and critiquing 8].

Author: jackdavfan692
Characters: Elizabeth, Norrington, Bootstrap Bill, Davey Jones, Murtogg & Mullroy, various members of the Empress' crew, Lord Beckett, Jack, Barbossa, Will, Gibbs, and various other members of the Black Pearl's crew.

Summary:
Part V- In the evening, after their escape from Beckett, Norrington and the leaders of the crews of the Black Pearl and The Empress meet to discuss a strategy for fighting Beckett and the EITC in the upcoming battle. The final skirmish between the pirates and Beckett & the EITC's forces occurs.

Part VI- After the battle and subsequent hearing to determine the fate of Jack, Will, and Elizabeth, Jack, having been spared from imprisonment by an unexpectedly helpful testimony on the part of Norrington, goes to depart on another voyage, only to find that Barbossa has robbed him of his ship yet again. Jack enters into a deal with Norrington to gain assistance from him, and with Will & Elizabeth and the Empress' crew in tow, goes off to steal the Black Pearl back from Barbossa.

Rating: PG-13

Part V
Later that evening, in the captain’s quarters of the Empress, an unusual group of allies gathers around a lantern-lit table: three pirate captains (two of them mortal enemies forced to work together), one’s first mate, another’s most trusted crew member, two members of a pirate bloodline, and one former Royal Navy officer pressed into working with the very people he most despises, all because of circumstances, his own morals, a guilty conscience, and a desire for redemption.
“Mister Turner?” Norrington asks. Both Will and Bootstrap Bill look up. “Senior.” He adds, smiling slightly.
“Yes, commodore?” Bootstrap Bill replies.
“While you were waiting for us to return, did you happen to see which direction Beckett and his men took to return to their ship?”
“No, unfortunately, I didn’t. Someone else might have, though.”
“Thank you, Mister Turner.” Then, after motioning him to emerge from behind the others and draw closer to the table, Norrington asks Tai Huang, “You, sir, did you see the gentleman I’m speaking of?” Tai Huang shakes his head. A troubled expression crosses Norrington’s face, and he says, “Hmmm…alright. That’s rather problematic, then.” After a brief pause, he adds, “Unless we gather the rest of the crew together and ask them about this.”

Will, sitting to the right of Norrington, says, “With all due respect, Mister Norrington, are you sure that’s wise? I may be making too much of this, but wouldn’t it be more advisable to leave the crew to their duties and either wait until tomorrow or ask them individually tonight?”
Norrington considers this for a few moments, then replies, “On the one hand, Mister Turner, or rather, Will, I must say I think you’re being overly cautious, but on the other, I do see your point.” Norrington pauses again to think things over, then says, “Perhaps we should ask the remaining crew members individually.”

Everyone but Will stares at Norrington in disbelief, and Elizabeth, mirroring their thoughts, says, “But James, that could take all night!”
Nodding, Norrington replies, “Yes, it very well could, but if we want any useful information to assist us tomorrow in tracking down Beckett and his armada before they reach the rest of our allies, it has to be gathered tonight.”

Before anyone else can answer or complain, Gibbs, from the opposite end of the table, says, “Actually, sir, that won’t be necessary.”
Norrington immediately shifts his attention from Elizabeth to Gibbs, and says, “Oh, Mister Gibbs! You’ve been so reticent I’d forgotten you were here! You say you have information that might prove helpful?”
“Aye, I do.” Gibbs replies.
“Well, out with it, man!” Norrington urges.
“Just before Cotton and I went out on the water to fetch back Jack and Cap’n Barbossa, I spied our little British Napoleon and his men headin’ a few miles North a’ here.”
“A few miles North, you say?”
“Aye, North.”
Nodding thoughtfully, Norrington replies, “Alright, that’s a good start. Might it be possible to provide us with something additional that is more specific?”
“Aye, it might, but I can’t be certain.” Gibbs answers.

After picking up the map spread out in front of him, Norrington walks over to the other end of the table. Motioning for him to draw closer, Norrington says, “Mister Gibbs, if you would?” Gibbs gets off the wooden crate serving as his chair and comes over to Norrington, the map outspread before him again. “Now, Mister Gibbs, do you think you could recall, in detail, what part of this area Beckett and his men traveled through on their northerly course?”
“I’ll do me best, sir.”
Norrington smiles and replies, “Often, that’s all any man can do.” Gibbs nods, then Norrington adds, “Alright then, go to work.”
“Aye, sir!” Gibbs answers resolutely. He pores over the map extensively for nearly an hour, the others alternately gathering around him and drifting apart into their own space as he does so. Finally, after much deliberation and murmuring to himself, Gibbs, tracing a path on the map with his finger, says, “I’d say they went through here.”
Looking up briefly from the map, Norrington asks, “Are you absolutely certain, Mister Gibbs?”
“Yes sir, commodore!”
Nodding, Norrington replies, “Good, very good.” Then, looking over at Jack, he says, “Jack, if Beckett and his armada were to continue on this course, would you conclude that the fleet is likely to arrive near, if not in the exact location, of our allies’ ships?”

Jack, after asking Gibbs to retrace the route of Beckett’s ship, and watching as he does so, looks up at Norrington and replies, “Aye, I would.”
Giving a quick nod and rolling up the map, Norrington answers, “I thought you’d agree.” He walks back to the opposite end of the table, and after putting down the map, says, “Alright, since that has been settled, let us attend to our next concern: attack strategies.” Indicating himself, Will, Elizabeth, and Bootstrap Bill, Norrington explains, “Now, we have ours figured out. I imagine, Jack, you and Captain Barbossa have one as well?”
“Aye, more or less.” Jack answers.
“Good. Would you be so kind as to share it with us, so we can more readily work with one another to defeat Beckett and his armada tomorrow?”
“Gladly, if you’ll do the same.”
“Of course.” Norrington replies, smiling tolerantly.
Jack grins, and after winking mischievously, says, “Just checking, mate, just checking.”
Smiling tactfully, Norrington answers, “Ah, were you?”
“Aye, I was.” Jack pauses and takes a drink of the bottle of rum set in front of him on the table, then continues. “Offense strategies, eh?” Norrington nods. “Alright. Do you want to go first, or shall I?”
“Whichever you would prefer, Jack.”
“Alright then, I will.” He replies.
“Please do.” Norrington, inclining his head, says. Jack then proceeds to explain his battle strategy, Norrington and the others occasionally offering suggestions of their own. The same process is repeated once more, with Norrington explaining his, Elizabeth’s, Will’s, and Bootstrap Bill’s plan of attack.
Jack, after a few minutes of silence, says, “A good pair of battle plans all around, aye?” The rest of the assembled group nods. “One last thing before this discussion goes any further.” Jack adds.
“What’s that, Jack?” Norrington asks.
“Whatever joint plan we construct will be shared with our allies before we set it in motion, right?”
“Naturally. We can set out early tomorrow morning and meet with them beforehand, if you wish.” Norrington offers.
Nodding, Jack answers, “I’m good with that. Shall we get down to business, then?”
“Yes, without delay.” Norrington declares. They all then gather around and go about putting together a joint attack strategy.

They talk long into the night, finally reaching a consensus only a scant few hours before dawn. Stifling a yawn as best he can, Norrington, turning to Jack, says, “It’s rather late. Perhaps the three of you should just sleep here and return to your ship in the morning.” He then turns to Elizabeth and inquires, “We do still have quarters free, don’t we?”
“Yes, we do.” Elizabeth replies.

“Well… Since it sounds as if doing so won’t cause any problems, we’ll gladly accept the invitation.” Jack answers. Norrington nods, and just as he is about to speak, Barbossa interrupts.

Turning to Norrington, he says, “Oh, you’ll not need to make any room for me. The Pearl’s quite close, and her quarters are good as any on here. Just give Captain Sparrow and Mister Gibbs here a place to sleep for the remainder of the night, and I’ll return to the Pearl.”
Smiling at him with pretended consideration, Norrington replies, “Nonsense! We have plenty of room for the three, or rather four, of you aboard (as Jack the monkey leaps back up onto Barbossa’s shoulder)! Do we not, Elizabeth?” he adds, turning to her.

Elizabeth, picking up immediately on the true aim of the invitation, answers, “Yes, of course!” Turning to Jack, Barbossa, and Gibbs, she says, “There’s more than enough room for you all. There’s no point in wasting time that could be spent sleeping in readily available space just so you can fill the same thing in another ship.”
Barbossa glances down to conceal a look of intense consternation, then politely replies, “Well, alright. If ya insist. Lil’ Jack and I will sleep here tonight.”

Smiling, the slightest bit of smug satisfaction in his expression, Norrington answers, “Good. Have a pleasant night, sir.” He then turns to Elizabeth and nods. Having seen his covert signal, Elizabeth turns and orders a few crewmen standing nearby to prepare additional quarters for Jack, Barbossa, and Gibbs.

As the latter two follow after Elizabeth and the crewmen, Jack leans over to Norrington and whispers, “What was that about, mate?”
A self-satisfied expression on his face, Norrington replies, “An exercise of caution, if you will.”
Jack grins at him and says, “Ah, I see- a crafty one you are, James, no doubt about it! What on earth took you so long to turn pirate? You’re a natural, you are!”
Though not altogether pleased with being referred to as a pirate, Norrington knows the comment is intended as a compliment, and expresses his gratitude. “Thank you, Captain Sparrow.”
“Sure, mate.” Jack replies. They speak to each other no further, preferring instead to be each other’s company as far as the area of the ship containing the crew’s quarters. Before parting for the night, they wish each other a good evening and shake hands once more. After the exchange, they head off in opposite directions: Jack to find Elizabeth, and thus, his quarters, and Norrington to his own quarters to rest.

Part VI
A few days after the hearing, Jack sits gloomily atop a barrel on the dock of Port Royal, lamenting the fact that Barbossa managed to steal his ship from under him yet again. He turns around at the sound of footsteps and sees Norrington walking toward him, that now all-too-familiar smirk on his face. “Ah, Jack, you’ve lost your ship again, I see.” Norrington says, leaning nonchalantly against a tower of coiled rope.
Jack glares at him and replies, “You don’t have to rub it in, mate.” After a momentary pause, he adds, “What are you doing here talking to me, anyway? I’d think you’d be off someplace or other celebrating your homecoming and reinstatement with your Royal Navy mates!” As he says so, Jack glances up and sees Norrington fully for the first time. “Or not.” Jack comments, seeing Norrington’s noticeably casual dress. “Did they refuse to reinstate you, or something?” he asks.
Norrington chuckles and says, “No, far from it! The new overseer of the port virtually begged me to reclaim my position as commander of the naval forces stationed here. He even offered to restore the admiralty Beckett bestowed upon me before embarking on his personal crusade, but I explained to the gentleman that if the Royal Navy is to remain under the control of the East India Trading Company, I’d prefer to simply be a privateer.”
Jack raises an eyebrow with interest, but lacking surprise- after being instrumental in saving his life not just once, but twice, less and less of Norrington’s behavior is surprising to Jack. “Hmmm…, interesting. How did he react?” he says.
“He was… disappointed, to say the least, but he agreed to my request nonetheless.” Norrington replies.
“Well done, mate. Congratulations.” Jack says.
“Thank you, Captain Sparrow.” Norrington answers. He stops abruptly and just remains quiet, as if considering whether to say something on his mind or not. Finally, after a brief stretch of silence, he turns to Jack again and says, “I have a proposition for you, Jack.”
“A proposition, you say?” Norrington nods. “Alright, James. What is it?”
Turning and facing him fully, Norrington answers, “Now that I am more or less back in the king’s good graces, I have access to certain resources that until now, were mostly out of reach.”
“Resources? What specifically are you referring to?” Jack asks.
“Well, vessels, for one.” Norrington replies.
The slightest bit of surprise registers on Jack’s face as he exclaims, “Am I hearing you right, mate? Are you offering to help me track down Barbossa and the Pearl with one of your own ships?”
“I am.” Norrington replies, smiling craftily.
Jack grins satisfyingly and says, “Well, I’ll be damned. There seems to be a pirate in you after all.”
Norrington laughs amusedly and answers, “I’d think you’d have gathered that from how skillfully I managed to get Jones’ heart from you.”
“I didn’t think of that, but I suppose it was rather piratical on your part.” Jack suddenly does a double-take, and jumping to his feet, exclaims, “Wait! Beckett got his hands on Jones’ heart by way of you?”
All traces of amusement and confidence leave Norrington’s face and are replaced by pure dismay, after which he says, “Yes, and you can’t possibly grasp the depth to which my self-reproach over that rash, desperate action and the events it set in motion goes.”
Jack elbows him jovially and replies, “Oh, come on, buck up, mate!”
Norrington, staring at him with amazed confusion, answers, “Honestly, Sparrow, as much as I might try, I doubt I’ll ever be able to fully comprehend you.” Jack smiles and shrugs, but gives no reply. Norrington, still baffled, adds, “You really don’t bear any malice or grudge toward me for my thievery of the heart, do you?”
“Nope, not a bit, mate.” Jack replies. “Like you said, you committed an act of piracy. Being a scallywag meself, I’ve really no right to point fingers or hold a grudge against someone who makes a living doing the same thing I do.” Jack pauses, and after giving a wink, adds, “Besides, I’ve always liked you.”
Norrington smirks with amusement and says, “Oh, you have, have you? That’s news to me!”
Jack laughs and replies, “Oh, aye, mate, I have.”
“You are, by far, one of the strangest men I’ve ever met.”
“So I’ve been told by quite a few others. You were saying you had a proposition- tell me more.”
“Yes. To continue- I now possess a ship, and am willing to use it to help you reclaim your own.”
“I accept the offer. There’s one minor problem, though, mate- you don’t have a crew to sail it.”
“True, I don’t, but you do.” Norrington answers.
“That I have, but it might be a hard sell to convince them to take orders from a captain other than meself, savvy?”
Shrugging, Norrington replies, “Perhaps, but perhaps not- not if they were informed that you’d have a mostly equivalent rank, something like, oh, first mate, perhaps.”
“Surely you’re not serious!” Jack exclaims with disbelief.
“Oh no, I’m quite serious, I assure you.” Norrington replies, smiling slyly.
Still looking at him with skepticism, Jack answers, “You honestly trust me enough to make me your first mate? Me, who, I believe you said, is a ‘vile, dissolute creature that deserves nothing less than a ‘short drop and a sudden stop’?”
Norrington smiles blandly and replies, “Oh, Sparrow, I’ve long abandoned that view.”
“Oh? Why is that?” Jack presses. Norrington turns away for a moment, a look of sickened horror crossing his face. “Ooh, looks as if I’ve hit a nerve there!” Jack comments, more to himself than anything else.
Finally, Norrington turns back to him and answers, “Hanging a child for piracy is not any form of justice, except perhaps a horribly twisted one- it is outright murder.”
“Ah…! So the little weasel flaunted his inner ugliness from the start, eh?”
“You could say that, yes.” Norrington replies.
“Nasty little bugger, wasn’t he?” Jack comments knowingly.
“Yes, to put it mildly.” Norrington answers darkly.
“One last question, just for me own information, savvy?”
“There’s no need to ask. I have a very good idea what it is.”
“You do, eh? Alright James, what am I going to ask?”
“Why, after that incident, did I not part ways with Beckett immediately.”
“Exactly. So, why did you wait until Miss Swann, or rather, Swann-Turner, forced you to see the error of your ways?”
Thoughtfully, Norrington answers, “Desperation, I should think. Desperation and–– narrow-mindedness.”
“Mmmhmm… . And now? What’s guiding them now?”
“A considerable lack of both and an abundance of other, more beneficial reasons and opinions.” Norrington replies assuredly.
“Alright, mate, I’m satisfied with that answer.” Jack pauses for a moment, then adds, “So tell me, James, what exactly are the terms of this proposition of yours?”
“I will assist you in reclaiming your ship from Captain Barbossa, with you and your crew serving as my crew. Once that has been done, we can go our separate ways if you wish, and I will never pursue you from that time on.” Norrington replies.
Jack looks at him wide-eyed with surprise and answers, “That’s a mighty generous offer, mate! What’s the benefit for you?”
“At present, nothing but a welcome opportunity to reacquaint myself with one of the chief reasons I joined the Royal Navy: a love of the sea and of the regularly accessible chances to travel upon it.” Norrington explains.
Jack grins and replies, “Ah a man after my own heart. I knew there was a reason I liked you.” He stops for a moment, then continues. “Still, that will only satisfy you for the present, aye?” Norrington at first gives no response. Then, he nods. “That’s what I thought. What might it take to convince you to look the other way in the future?” Jack says.
Norrington remains silent for a time, then replies, “I may require your assistance someday, perhaps with information. I will keep my part of the agreement if you will help me in that capacity. Do we have a deal?”
Jack says not a word, weighing the pros and cons of agreeing to the proposition. After some time, he asks, “Does your guarantee of no pursuit include my crew as well as me?”
“Of course.” Norrington answers. “So, do we have an agreement?”
“Aye, mate, we do.” Jack says, shaking Norrington’s hand, a gesture he returns without hesitation.
“Excellent.” Norrington muses. Just as he is about to say something more, he and Jack hear footsteps approaching from their left.
“Oh, wonderful, here come the newlyweds.” Jack comments with irritation.

“Oh dear. Are we going to have to go on another adventure already, Jack?” Will teases.
Jack narrows his eyes and replies, “You don’t have to join me, you know. Besides, what makes you think I was considering inviting you along anyway?”
Will simply smiles, shakes his head, and says, “Because I know you much too well, Jack. If Elizabeth and I hadn’t done it first, you’d have been seeking us out.”
“Maybe, but…” Jack starts, only to be interrupted.
“No buts, Jack, for certain.” Will says, cutting him off mid-sentence. Jack does little but turn away, muttering some snide comment or other to himself as he does so.

“Exactly.” Elizabeth adds in. “And Jack, don’t be ridiculous. Will and I are always going to be willing to help you, whether you want us to or not, so just accept it.” Jack says nothing to either Will or Elizabeth, he only glares at them petulantly.

Will, immediately concluding that Jack has no desire to talk to either of them, lets him be and greets Norrington instead, saying amiably, “Good afternoon, Captain Norrington, how are you?”

“I’m very well, Mister turner, and yourself?” Norrington replies graciously, shaking Will’s hand.
“So am I, thank you.” Will answers appreciatively.
“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” Norrington says, smiling slightly.

Elizabeth then follows suit, greeting Norrington somewhat less formally. “How are you, James?” she asks, smiling warmly.

Will and Elizabeth go off to ready the Empress and her crew for the next morning’s voyage, leaving Jack and Norrington alone on the dock. The two men watch the young couple walk away, every gesture and movement conveying the unbridled joy that only two types of people can express: young, happily married newlyweds and first-time parents.
Jack takes one last glance at the pair, then, turning to Norrington, says, “Well, shall we go collect the crew and present them your proposal?”
“Yes, let’s.” Norrington replies, nodding. He pauses momentarily, then adds, “But I do hope you have some idea of where they might be, because I have none whatsoever.”
Jack grins and answers, “Oh, aye mate. I know just where they’ll be. Come on.” He snatches up his coat, and after slinging it over one shoulder, heads in the direction Norrington came from earlier, the latter following right behind.

Some minutes later, they find themselves walking down a dingy, smoky alley to the loan pub in Port Royal. Norrington, somewhat disconcerted by the seamy surroundings, asks, “Sparrow, might I ask exactly where we’re going?”
Jack chuckles and says, “Where any self-respecting pirate goes to pass the time until his next voyage, mate.”
“And that is?” Norrington replies, giving Jack a sidelong glance.
“Open your eyes, mate!” Jack answers, grinning.
“I’m sorry?” Norrington says, becoming slightly annoyed. He looks up for a moment, and Jack’s frustratingly vague hints click into place. Smiling wryly at him, Norrington adds, “Ah, of course, the local pub- why didn’t I think of that?”
“Mmmm… , because in regard to knowing what pirates do when they aren’t on voyages pillaging and plundering, you’re a complete novice.”
Norrington glares and replies, “I didn’t require an answer, Jack, thank you.”
“No? I could have sworn I heard a question there.” Jack retorts playfully.
Norrington groans with annoyance and snaps, “Sparrow, will you please be quiet!”
Jack laughs gaily, pleased with himself that on the intermittent occasion, he can get a rise out of Norrington. After toning down his show of amusement somewhat, Jack replies, “Okay, mate, come on.” Norrington follows him in, a hint of displeasure still evident on his face. The two men scan the dingily lit pub, searching for the core members of Jack’s crew in the crowd. Finally, after a considerably long stretch of fruitless observing, they see them cloistered away towards the back of the pub, sufficiently well hidden from prying eyes.
“There they are.” Norrington says, jerking his head in their direction.
Jack claps his hands giddily and replies, “Ah, good! Let’s go!” Norrington follows him promptly, and they weave their way through the crowd to the table occupied by Jack’s crew. When the two of them reach it, they find every single person, save Murtogg and Mullroy, slowly drifting into varying states of pleasant drunkenness.

Gibbs gets up from his chair somewhat unsteadily, and clapping Jack on the shoulder, says, “Jack, there ya are! We were all wondering when you might join us. Where have ya been?”
Shrugging, Jack answers, “Oh, out, walking.”
“Oh, aye!” Gibbs replies, half stumbling and half sinking back into his chair.
Jack scans around the table for a moment, then says, “A tad bit early, lads, don’t you think?”
Gibbs, grinning inanely, comments, “Well now, cap’n, that all depends on how soon we’re set to ship out again, doesn’t it?”
Jack smiles at him amusedly. He’d always had a soft spot for the old navigator and storyteller- an affection that hadn’t changed one bit through the years. Jack takes a moment to reflect on that, then replies, “Aye, it does, mate.”

Norrington, meanwhile, observes the scene with far less indulgent eyes. While pleased to see his two former officers have more or less maintained proper decorum during their brief time as crewmen on pirate vessels, he is displeased by the behavior of Jack’s more veteran crew members, and begins to wonder how wise he really was to make the request of Jack in the first place. Norrington subtly pulls him aside and whispers, “Jack, is this a regular occurrence during voyages?”
Jack grins and replies, “No worries, mate. Once aboard a ship and en route to…wherever, this is one of the best crews a man of the sea, pirate or otherwise, could ever hope to have. Besides, I’ve no doubt my news about the Pearl will sober them up right quick.” Norrington, though somewhat less skeptical than before, indicates he is still not convinced, so Jack adds, “Trust me, James- you and your ship will be in very capable hands with these gentlemen and myself.”
Norrington remains silent for a moment, then replies, “Alright, Sparrow, I’ll take your word for it.”
“Good. You will not be disappointed, believe me.” Jack answers, winking. With nothing further to say, Norrington lapses into silence.
Jack returns to the table and steels himself to tell the crew about Barbossa’s thievery of the Pearl, but Gibbs pipes up first. “So, cap’n, when are we to set sail again?”
Jack fidgets for a time, but finally answers, “We have a, uh, problem on our hands, gentlemen.”
The slightest bit of clarity returns to Gibbs’ voice and demeanor as he asks, “A problem? What sort of problem, captain?”
“It seems that sometime during the night, Barbossa made off with the Pearl.”
Gibbs’ mouth hardens and twists into a hateful grimace, and he says angrily, “The old villain! Even after we helped him assemble his blasted Brethren Court…. no offense to you or your pa intended, ‘a course, Jack.”
“None taken, mate.” Jack reassures him.
Gibbs gives him a grateful nod, then says, “After all that, the connivin’ devil repays us by stealin’ the ship! It’s no wonder Hell spat him back out twice over- the wretch just can’t be trusted!”
“Aye, that’s all true, mate. But enough bellyaching- we’ll all get our shot at him when we’ve caught up. Right now, what’s most important is getting the Pearl back.”
“Indeed it is, captain, but how are we to do that? We’ve a crew, but we’ve got no ship!”
Jack grins gleefully and replies, “That happens to be why I came looking for you all. We’ve been presented with an offer of assistance.”
“We have? By who? The new gov’nr of Port Royal?”
“No, Mister Gibbs, though that would have been lovely. No, by Captain Norrington.”
Gibbs looks at him with confusion, as if unfamiliar with the name, and answers, “Captain Norrington?” Jack nods, then Gibbs continues, “Wait! Don’t ya mean Admiral Norrington?”

“No, just captain now, Mister Gibbs.” Norrington remarks, suddenly appearing next to Jack at the table.
Gibbs looks at him nearly dumbfounded, and says, “Captain?” Norrington nods. “Since when?”
“Since, oh, two days or so after the conclusion of the hearing that was to determine the fate of you and your captain.” Norrington replies nonchalantly.
“That’s a mighty steep demotion, sir.” Gibbs answers.
Nodding, Norrington says, “It is if it’s forced upon you, but not if it is your choice and yours alone, as it is in my case.”
“Oh, I see. What was the reasonin’ behind your choice, Captain, if I may be so bold to ask?”
Norrington glances down, then replies, “The responsibility of the Royal Navy, and partly why I joined in the first place, is no longer the same as it once was.”
“Meanin’ what, exactly?” Gibbs asks.
“When I first enlisted, its chief responsibility was protecting England and her people. Now, after Lord Beckett’s brief but catalystic leadership, His Majesty’s naval forces function primarily as defenders and promoters of the Commonwealth’s economic interests, with no concern for its people or their well-being whatsoever. It is an unwise, dangerously lopsided policy that is certain to have serious, long-ranging consequences in the future.” He pauses briefly, then adds, “To put it simply, rather than continue to serve in the Royal Navy, against the better counsel of my conscience, I decided to heed it and resign instead.” He stops abruptly, clearly holding something more back. Finally, after some moments, he says, “Admittedly, it was a somewhat difficult decision, but I think in the end, it will prove to be the right one.”
Gibbs scratches his chin and replies, “So you’re in this for the long haul then, sir?”
“I suppose you could say that, yes.” Norrington answers.
Holding out his hand, Gibbs says, “Well, welcome to our ranks then, sir.” Norrington returns the gesture with a simple handshake and a polite nod. Turning to Jack, Gibbs says, “Well now, Jack, what’s this proposition of the Captain’s?”
Jack glances questioningly at Norrington, who says, “Go ahead and explain it to them, Jack.”

“Alright then.” Jack returns. He looks around the table to make sure everyone is paying attention, then his gaze suddenly fixes on Pintel and Ragetti. The surprise clearly audible in his voice, Jack exclaims, “I didn’t expect to see you two here! I’d think you’d have gone off with Barbossa!”

“We like sailing with you better.” Pintel replies, the expression on his face seeming to show he is perfectly sincere, in spite of Jack’s doubts.
Somewhat flabbergasted, Jack answers, “Well, alright- welcome to the crew, mates.” He takes a quick glance at Norrington, who simply shrugs. Turning back to the assembled group at the table, Jack continues. “Right then. The proposition.”

“Aye, the proposition.” Gibbs prods gently.
“While Mister, I’m sorry, Captain Norrington is no longer a member of the Royal Navy, he is still under the service of the king as a privateer. As such, he has a ship at his disposal- a ship that, at present, has no crew. He has offered to take us on temporarily, and in return, will help us recapture the Pearl. After that, he has promised we will never be pursued by him, so long as we’ll be willing to assist him at some point in the future, should he ever ask.”
Gibbs regards Jack thoughtfully for a moment, then says, “It seems a good enough proposition, but I do still have a few questions.”

“Such as what, Mister Gibbs?” Norrington puts in.
“Well, like, er, what this request of help might entail.”
Norrington regards him for a moment, then replies, “A worthy question, certainly, but one that, at present, can hardly be answered sufficiently, Mister Gibbs.”
“Aye, I suppose you’re right, sir.” Gibbs pauses, choosing his next words carefully. Finally, he resumes. “Though you’re not in the Royal Navy anymore, you can’t blame a man for still bein’ a bit wary, if ya get my meaning.” Jack glares him into silence.
Norrington catches Jack’s stare out of the corner of his eye, and turning toward him, says, “Come now, Jack, you’ve no reason to hold the man to task for voicing his concerns aloud. I’m surprised you haven’t yet bestowed upon him the rank of first mate! In spite of his flaws, he’s quite an intelligent man.”

“Who says I haven’t done that yet?” Jack snaps back. Norrington simply smiles bemusedly at him, and turns back to Gibbs.

“Thank you for the compliment, sir.” Gibbs replies.
Nodding, Norrington answers, “Of course, Mister Gibbs. Now then, what other questions are weighing on your mind?”
“What the chain of command is going to be, if you like. We all had the impression our orders would come from Jack, but it sounds more like they’ll be comin’ from yourself.”
Giving a slight nod, Norrington answers, “ Your captain said that issue might come up.” He falls silent for a moment, then resumes. “The chain of command will be no different than if you were on your own ship.”
Gibbs looks at him with confusion and says, “How’s that, seeing as you’ll be commander onboard?”
Norrington glances furtively in Jack’s direction, eyebrow raised, as if saying, ‘How dense could this man possibly be?’

Jack leans over and whispers, “I think ‘is head’s still a bit addled with drink.”
Norrington nods slightly, then returns his attention to Gibbs. “During the voyage, Captain Sparrow here will serve as my first mate, so your orders will more or less come from him.”

Nodding with understanding, Gibbs replies, “Oh, aye, I see now. Let me talk to the rest of the lads, and I’ll give you our answer.” Norrington nods, and Gibbs herds the rest of the crew a little ways away from him and Jack. The two men each lay claim to a chair at the newly vacated table, then sit and wait for Gibbs.
The silence is briefly broken by Norrington, who inquires, “How difficult do you imagine it will be for them to reach a consensus on the matter?”

Jack considers the question for a moment, then replies, “I imagine our two new members will have some complaints, but as for the rest, I think they’ll go along with Mister Gibbs.”
Nodding, Norrington says, “So really no problem at all, then?”
“Exactly, mate.” Jack answers, grinning.
“Good.” Norrington returns neutrally.

Some minutes pass, then Gibbs finally returns to the table. Looking at Jack and Norrington in turn, he says, “I’ve got our answer.”
Nodding, Norrington replies, “Go on.”
“Well, it took a bit of convincin’ on my part, but we finally agreed to your proposition, sir.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Norrington answers politely. Gibbs motions for the others to return to the table. They all sit, and just as Gibbs is about to move the conversation forward with a question, another voice grabs Jack and Norrington ‘s attention.

“I though we might find you all here.” Will says, smiling knowingly, as Elizabeth joins him.
“Well hello there, Will, Elizabeth, nice of you to join us.” Jack answers.

“Mister Turner, Elizabeth, good to see you both again.” Norrington says, nodding.
“And you.” Will replies graciously.
“Thank you.” Norrington answers. He falls silent for a moment, then continues. “Is your ship ready for the morning’s voyage?

Doctor Who Meme

2008-11-30T07:25:25Z

Snatched this from ericadawn16.

When you see this post, quote from Doctor Who.

"How did you know it was me?"

The "Twilight" Movie: Opening Day Experience

2008-11-22T10:14:00Z

Just got back a few hours ago from seeing Twilight with a friend. Good, interesting movie, but oh my god, the legion of Twilight series fans who were sharing the theatre with us : 3! LOL! I'd say there was maybe a handful of moments when girls weren't squealing with glee or reacting very vocally to the scene we were currently watching. Opening credits and title? A vociferous squeal of joy. The first scene where the Cullen siblings show up? Same thing, especially when the guys entered. The first appearance of Jacob onscreen? Gleeful squeals, though not quite as loud as they were with Edward, Jasper, etc. Bella and Edward's first kiss? One guess. When the two of them almost "do it" in Bella's bedroom? A very loud "Whooo...!" It was funny and sort of cute for awhile, but it began to get somewhat tiresome toward the end :/. The way I figure the audience was arranged was this: one large group of Twilight fans were in the floor seating, close to the front (for obvious reasons ;)), and the area up above, where my friend and I were sitting, had people who, like us, knew a bit about the series and/or just wanted to see the movie for fun and find out what the fuss was. Nearly all through the movie, there were girls squealing down below, but hardly a sound coming from our section of seats. I understand the major fans' enthusisasm, really, I do, but could you possibly tone down your expressions of that just a bit :|? A couple of squeals and claps once in a while, fine, but please, not throughout the film :/.

Torchwood "Theoryfic" Preview

2008-11-06T08:18:26Z

Okay, this is what I'll call a preview of a "theoryfic". The subject? The upcoming season of Torchwood. This came about as a result of a late-night possible "A-ha!" moment wherein I put together a theory of what the storyline for the five-episode third season of the show would be. Just for fun, I thought I'd write down what I came up with 8). The following is what I've put down so far (the first bit would be somewhere around the middle of what I'll call Episode 1, or the beginning of Episode 2; the second bit would take place at some point in Episode 3).
....... Three figures are huddled around a crumpled, torn body, nothing visible in the fading light but their silhouettes and the dark form of the subject of their scrutinization.
"Another one." Jack says, a slight breeze stirring his hair and the hem of his coat. He pulls the sheet back over the body and gets up from a crouch, his impressive height making him virtually tower over his two companions.
"This is what, the seventh victim in two weeks?" Gwen comments. Jack nods.

Ianto, generally the most quiet of the team, observes, "I've noticed a marked increase in Weevil sightings since...". he lapses into silence, unable to finish the thought, recent memories flooding back, as they'd regularly been doing since that fateful night. It had been barely two months since the deaths of Tosh and Owen at the hands of Jack's unstable brother Gray, and the recollection of those events was still painfully fresh in the minds of the remaining team members. The one thing that had kept them afloat and able to go about their daily duties was the firm, but gentle guidance and leadership of Jack. Without him, Torchwood would have collapsed not long after the losses of Tosh and Owen.
Jack, seeing Ianto's distress, gently grasps his shoulder. After briefly surveying the surrounding area to make sure the three of them are alone, Jack wraps Ianto in an affectionate embrace and kisses him on the forehead. Those gestures of love, ones Jack did not often display in public, lift Ianto out of his sudden pang of sorrow, and he continues.
"I thought the increase in sightings might have to do with the possibility that we didn't get all the Weevils back into their cells, but now I'm not so sure. There might be a totally different reason for it, like Rift activity or something."
Nodding, Jack adds, "There's something unusual about this whole case."

"Unusual? How?" Gwen asks.
"I don't know yet, but we'll certainly find out, sooner rather than later, I hope." Jack answers. After a brief pause, he adds, "I'm afraid this is gonna be a long work night, guys. Let's head back to the Hub." Gwen and Ianto follow him without a word, then the three of them get into the SUV and drive off. ........

......... Jack, trying to figure out the details of the case and put them together, sits alone in his office, working late as he habitually does. He leafs through the stack of photographs on his desk for the fifth time that evening, examining each one with intense scrutiny worthy of a veteran forensics investigator. As he does so, he mentally goes over all the information gleaned thus far, looking for something he or the others might have missed. Finally, after four more such exercises, he stumbles on to something theretofore unknown. The realization, though informative, is by no means joy-producing, and he slumps in his chair at its devastating nature. Jack glances up at the sound of footsteps, just in time to catch Ianto's gaze as he steps into the office.
"Jack, would you like some more...coffee?" Ianto asks, his cheerful tone becoming slightly concerned, and his speech growing a bit faltering. "What's wrong, Jack?" he inquires.
"The Weevils responsible for the attacks are being instructed about who to target and how to deal with them." Jack explains.
"Okay, and?" Ianto answers.
"They're working under a leader. Do you see what I'm getting at?" Jack continues.
"Not entirely, no." Ianto replies, somewhat flustered.
"Their leader isn't just any leader, like of a gang or something, but an all-powerful leader."
With that final statement, everything clicks into place for Ianto, and he suddenly realizes why Jack is so upset. "You mean it's..." he replies, unable to even utter what he's thinking.
"Owen, yes." Jack finishes for him. He sighs deeply, the photographs he's holding fluttering down onto the desk. After a long pause, Jack continues. "But this isn't Owen we're dealing with anymore. This is the "weevil king" we're up against. To be honest, I don't think there's much of Owen left in that creature." Jack slumps in his chair a bit more, leaning his head against its back dolefully.
"We can explain this all to Gwen tomorrow, but now, we need to get some sleep, especially you." Ianto urges gently.
Jack looks up at him and says, "Go ahead and go home, Ianto, it's late. I'm gonna work for a bit longer. I'll see you in the morning."
But Ianto doesn't move a muscle. Instead, he replies, "Come on, Jack, I know you don't want to be here alone tonight, not after everything you've found out."
Jack sits silently for awhile, then finally answers, "You're right, I don't, but...".
Ianto takes Jack gently by the hand and says kindly, "Come on, come to bed." That's all it takes. Jack gets up slowly from his desk and lets Ianto lead him out of the office.
As they pass the half-empty coffee cup on the left side of the desk, Jack asks, "What about the...?"
"I'll take care of everything. You just get ready to sleep, and I'll join you when I'm done cleaning things up, okay?" Jack hesitates, so Ianto gives him a kiss to get him on his way. Then nodding, Ianto says, "Go on." Jack finally complies, and after giving Ianto a kiss, heads off to his sleeping quarters.

About forty-five minutes later, Ianto joins Jack, still wide awake, in his sleeping quarters. They talk for awhile, mostly comforting one another, eventually falling asleep in each other's arms. .........

Well, there you have it :). Not much, admittedly, but still pretty good, I think. And what Torchwood fan doesn't like a Janto moment or two, sweet or otherwise ;)? Enjoy, and I'll post a more complete version when I've come up with more ideas, lol 8}.

Funny, And Apparently True, Story...

2008-09-26T18:04:48Z

I saw this by way of my mom, who read it on an off-topic board on the forum she often visits. There's a bit of language at the very end, so anyone who's extremely sensitive to that might want to pass this up.
"My flight was being served by an obviously gay flight attendant, who seemed to put everyone in a good mood as he served us food and drinks."

"As the plane prepared to descend, he came swishing down the aisle and told us that 'Captain Marvey has asked me to announce that he'll be landing the big scary plane shortly, so lovely people, if you could just put your trays up, that would be super.' "

"On his trip back up the aisle, he noticed this well-dressed and rather Arabic-looking woman hadn't moved a muscle."

'Perhaps you didn't hear me over those big brute engines, but I asked you to raise your trazy-poo, so the main man can pitty-pat us on the ground.'

"She calmy turned her head and said, 'In my country, I am called a princess, and I take orders from no one.' "
"To which (I swear) the flight attendant replied, without missing a beat, 'Well, sweet-cheeks, in my country I'm called a queen, so I outrank you. Tray up, bitch.' "

-As written by user "om" on the Doberman Talk Forum.

A Bit of (Possibly) Good News About Swingtown's Future...

2008-08-15T08:48:43Z

Reading through the most recent issue of Entertainment Weekly, I saw what might be good news for the future of Swingtown. According to an online poll taken of the magazine's readers, after the new game show "Wipeout", Swingtown was people's favorite new network show (it even beat out Flashpoint, which took its original Thursday night spot ;)). Now, that doesn't necessarily mean CBS will change its mind and stop pulling the rug out from under it little by little, but I thought you guys would like to know that some TV viewers still have good taste in programs ;).

You can probably find the poll results online, but here they are if you don't want to hunt for them:
1. "Wipeout"- 32%
2. "Swingtown"- 24%
3. "Celebrity Family Feud"- 11%
4. Tie between "Flashpoint" and "I Survived A Japanese Game Show"- 10%
5. Tie between "The Baby Borrowers" and "Greatest American Dog"- 7% (I'm not sure why either of these didn't do better, since the former was a reality show that actually had substance , and the latter was about dogs and their owners- I mean, how can you not like that =/?)

Alexis

An Unconventional View of The Torchwood Team...

2008-08-11T05:38:33Z

This is for ericadawn16 in particular, but if anyone else wants to take a look, feel free :). The reference was the pic on the front of the Season 1 DVD collection box.

Okay, I came up with this unusual idea after reading a topic on a virtual pet site called Neopets.com. This is the Torchwood seasons 1 & 2 team as different Neopets species. I guess you could call it a modified form of anthro art :).
Full View

Closeup (Ianto, Gwen, & Jack)

As soon as I can get a reasonably good closeup of what I did with Tosh & Owen (I looked through all the pictures I took of the drawing, but not one I took was good enough to post, even with some tweaking in Photoshop Elements :/), I'll post it. Until then, enjoy these, and tell me what you think :).

Odd Fandom Crossover "Snapshot" Dream

2008-07-14T23:02:19Z

I had the oddest fandom crossover "snapshot" dream the other night :/. For those of you who are fans of the BBC America show Torchwood, you know two of the main characters were killed off in the most recent season finale. Anyway, I imagined the team was getting ready to go investigate some unusual happening (the scene kind of reminded me of the opening of "Adam"). I don't remember exactly what Jack was saying to them, but I do remember seeing the back of, I think, Martha's (of Doctor Who) head, Daniel from Stargate SG-1, and one other person (possibly PC Andy), along with Gwen, Ianto, and Rhys. I wish I could be more descriptive, but that's everything that made up the dream. Weird, no :|?

POTC Fanfic Opinion Poll/Question

2008-07-14T22:45:43Z

Okay, guys. A couple of opinion/suggestion questions about my AWE fanfic and an as-yet-untitled sequel to it.

Paths To Redemption

What would you like me to do with Lord Beckett?
a) Stick with the writers' decision and kill him off.
b) Keep him alive and punish him another way.

Untitled Sequel
Based on your answer above, what characters would you like to see in this fic?
Note: All the characters who appeared in Paths To Redemption, with the possible exception of Beckett (based on the majority opinion for the AWE fanfic poll), make it through to the end of that story.

A Simple Meme

2008-06-26T07:33:53Z

Leave a comment and I will:
1) tell you why I friended you,
2) associate you with something - fandom, a song, a color, a photo, etc.,
3) tell you something I like about you,
4) tell you a memory I have of you,
5) ask something I've always wanted to know about you,
6) tell you my favorite user pic of yours,
7) in return, you must post this in your LJ (if you like)

A Little Head's Up For You Lord Beckett/Tom Hollander Fans

2008-03-27T17:44:49Z

I don't know how many of you get HBO or are interested in a miniseries about the life of John Adams and the Revolutionary War period, but I thought I'd let you know that this coming Sunday, Tom Hollander is in the scheduled segment playing none other than King George III ;). Now, I don't know how much more we'll see of him in the miniseries, or what portion of the segment he'll be in (read, you may have to wait a little while before seeing him in a rather small role), but I thought I'd pass it on anyway :). Also, this is part four of the miniseries, so you may want to wait until it's released on DVD and watch the whole thing, but it's your call :].

One other note- a few weeks or so back, I caught a movie he did either before or after DMC called In The Land of The Blind (it also stars Ralph Fiennes and Donald Sutherland). In it, he plays a rather heavy-handed leader (aptly referred to by his citizenry as "Jr.", I kid you not =)) who is eventually arrested and executed as an enemy of the people by a newly-freed revolutionary in Parliament (the setting is in England). It's an interesting little movie that brings up the valid argument that how truly "revolutionary" a revolution is really depends on the personality, goals, and true reasons an individual leads such a movement.

Alexis

My POTC Trilogy Icons

2008-03-27T00:54:16Z

I've put off posting these since they're not much more than clipped sections of my rather large collection of desktops, but today I figured, "Hey, what the heck? I'll post 'em and see what response, if any, I get :)!". Since all three have a pretty big number of images (one covers three or four different pages 8}), I'm just going to post a preview of each and provide the links to the full gallery of each of the three groups.

Preview:
COTBP Group
http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f383/photoalbummakernewbie/POTC%20Album/Icon%20Bases/thCommodoreNorrington.jpg

DMC Group
http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f383/photoalbummakernewbie/POTC%20Album/Icon%20Bases/thDaveyJones3.jpg

AWE Group
http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f383/photoalbummakernewbie/POTC%20Album/Icon%20Bases/thBarbossa2.jpg

The full (so far) sets
COTBP Set
DMC Set
AWE Set

Alexis

P.S. All of them are bases, so if any grab you, feel free to use 'em :)

Response To Sparrowinthesky's "Getting To Know You" Meme

2008-02-02T19:34:32Z

1. Are you currently in a serious relationship? No, but I kind of wish I was :(.

2. What was your dream growing up? I wanted to be a paleontologist.

3. What talent do you wish you had? Hmmm..., I don't really know :?.

4. If I bought you a drink what would it be? Either a chai from Starbuck's or a root beer.

5. Favorite vegetable? Broccoli and carrots

6. What was the last book you read? Not exactly a book- Shakespeare's King Lear.

7. What zodiac sign are you? Sagittarius

8. Any Tattoos and/or Piercings? Explain where. Just earrings in my ears.

9. Worst Habit? I'm a really bad procastinator 8}.

10. If you saw me walking down the street would you offer me a ride? Sure, if I actually had a car :).

11. What is your favorite sport? Mmmm..., I'm not really that big a sports fan. But it would be kind of cool to see a baseball game live :).

12. Do you have a Negative or Optimistic attitude? I'm mostly an optimist.

13. What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator with me? I'd make conversation. I'm not sure about what exactly, but that's what I'd do :).

14. Worst thing to ever happen to you? About five years or so ago, I lost a grandfather I was very close to :(.

15. Tell me one weird fact about you. I have a hypothyroid condition.

16. Do you have any pets? Yes- a white dove, "Narcissus", three cats, and an old, rescued Doberman Pinscher, "Foster" (though I'm not sure how long we're actually going to keep him, since the plan at present is to take care of him until we can find him a permanent owner).

17. What if I showed up at your house unexpectedly? I'd be surprised, but once you let me know where I met you, I'd let you in and we'd hang out :).

18. What was your first impression of me? (hmmm...careful!) I thought you were very friendly, and was glad you added me to your LJ flist :).

19. Do you think clowns are cute or scary? Not cute or scary as much as hysterically funny.

20. If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be? I wish my acne would disappear permanently B|.

21. Would you be my crime partner or my conscience? Either one, depending on what you wanted to do.

22. What color eyes do you have? Brown/Hazel

23. Ever been arrested? Nope, not yet. But if things in the U.S. start going horribly sideways, that answer may change, if you get my drift ;}.

24. Bottle or can soda? Both, but mostly canned.

25. If you won $10,000 today, what would you do with it? I'd contribute various sums of it to whatever environmental NGO's needed it most to support an extremely important cause, I'd use some of it to fix my laptop screen & get an Airport card for my desktop computer, and I'd put whatever's left in my checking account.

26. What's your favorite place to hang at? If I'm close by (i.e. within walking distance), a bookstore like Borders and/or a music/movie store like Virgin.

27. Do you believe in ghosts? Definitely, as well as Bigfoot, extraterrestrials, and "Nessie" :).

28. Favorite thing to do in your spare time? Write, draw, take nature photography, and origami.

29. Do you swear a lot? Not that often, but if I stub my toe or do something foolish, a curse will sometimes slip out.

30. Biggest pet peeve? When people leave lights on for either no reason or when they leave a room.

31. In one word, how would you describe yourself? Kind.

32. Do you believe/appreciate romance? Yes to both.

33. Do you believe in God? I'd say I believe in some higher power, yes, though I'm not sure how well the "conventional" description of God fits the aforementioned being.

34. Will you repost this so I can fill it out and do the same for you? Sure, why not :)!

A Silly Bit of Fandom Randomness...

2008-01-14T02:28:10Z

Only my fellow Torchwood and Doctor Who fans will probably find this interesting at all ;D, but I thought I'd put it out there anyway. The other day, I was just killing time when I had what my dad calls "a brain fart". When I first heard that BBC America was going to do a Doctor Who spinoff show called "Torchwood", I thought, "Huh, that's an odd name!". Naturally, and despite the little I'd seen of Doctor Who, I started trying to figure out what the connection between the two shows was, aside from the main character in Torchwood being one who originally showed up in the aforementioned program.

As I watched more of Doctor Who, the name "Torchwood" started popping up at least once in nearly every episode. At the time, I figured it was just coincidence, but then came the day of that "brain fart". This is what it was- when I pictured the letters in my mind rearranged, I realized it spelled "Doctor Who" =o! Now, I may just be losing it, but I think that's very significant, even beyond the fact that in the episode "Tooth and Claw", the place the Doctor and Rose end up at is called "Torchwood Estate", and by the end of the episode, Queen Victoria had renamed it the "Torchwood Institute".

Let me know if you guys think I'm on to something or just going bonkers, LOL! Catch you later :)!

A Really, Really Rough Day...

2007-10-29T03:05:16Z

I am feeling so miserable right now. Today was just an awful day! We had to put our nearly thirteen year old dog to sleep today ={. She'd been having trouble breathing for the past few days, but it was worst today. My parents and I knew this was coming (a couple of months back or so, she started having this cough that we were pretty sure didn't have anything to do with an illness), but none of us were really prepared for it. We'd had her since she was just a few weeks old, so it's particularly hard to lose her. While we all know it was the right thing for her, since she was suffering so much, it's still very hard. It's definitely going to take a while to get over this loss ={.

Paths To Redemption- Parts III and IV

2007-10-26T03:25:31Z

Okay, it's been awhile, and this is even less finished than the first two parts of the story I posted a while back, but here are parts three and four of my fanfic, such as they are 8]. Enjoy, and I hope part four isn't too hard to follow (any suggestions of how to begin it would be most appreciated, too :)).

Author: jackdavfan692
Characters: Elizabeth, Norrington, Bootstrap Bill, Davey Jones, Murtogg & Mullroy, various members of the Empress' crew, Lord Beckett, Jack, Barbossa, Will, Gibbs, and various other members of the Black Pearl's crew.

Summary:
Part III- During the voyage to Shipwreck Cove, Norrington is faced with making an intensely difficult choice, and Elizabeth continues to struggle with her feelings for Will and Norrington.

Part IV- Jack, Barbossa, Elizabeth, and their pirate brethren gain an unlikely ally in the form of Norrington, who helps them get out of Lord Beckett's clutches when he attempts to arrest them after closing his deal with Will.

Rating: PG-13

Part III

One afternoon, two-and-a-half weeks into the Empress' journey to Shipwreck Cove, Elizabeth takes a break from her captain's duties to get some fresh air. She makes her way to the ship's deck, and after reaching someplace quiet and mostly private, she stops, leans over the railing, breathes in the sea air, and lets the ocean breeze calm her. After a few minutes, Elizabeth begins to sense that someone else is nearby. She turns to see Norrington standing near the ship's stern, evidently doing the same thing she is- taking some time out for himself to relax.
Seeing him there, his hair blowing slightly in the brisk breeze, his shirt unbuttoned somewhat at the neck, his coat slung carelessly over his shoulders, and his whole demeanor giving the impression of complete contentment, Elizabeth realizes something about James Norrington she never knew before. One of his main reasons for joining the Royal Navy, besides a strong sense of justice and an intense desire to protect those who are most vulnerable, was a deep love of the sea and the freedom that spending one's life on it provides. Elizabeth pauses, and smiling with amusement, thinks, "Much like Jack." She chuckles at the perfect irony of that.
Hearing her, Norrington turns around and says brightly, "Oh, hello, Elizabeth!"
She is unable to reply for a moment, due in part to slight embarrassment at being, in her estimation, so loud, and partly out of sheer surprise at being greeted with such a warm smile by Norrington, a man who, it seemed to her, rarely graced others he encountered with such a sweet, boyish smile as the one he turned on her now. Finally, she finds her voice again and responds. "Good afternoon, admiral."
"Call me James, please.” replies Norrington, still smiling. A look of mild surprise crosses Elizabeth's face, and Norrington turns away slightly, his bright smile becoming bashful and shy. He pauses momentarily, then continues. "I...like it when you call me James." He turns back around and faces her, then says, "Well, that, and because I've seen the sort of man Lord Beckett is firsthand, as well as being a participant in his scheme to extend the East India Trading Company's reach beyond the borders of the Caribbean, my new title seems rather...hollow and meaningless." It pains him to say so, Elizabeth notices, but she says nothing. She simply waits for him to continue. Norrington heaves a deep sigh, then resumes. "Had I known then what Beckett's plans truly were, I'd have destroyed Jones' heart right then and there, no matter what the consequences.” Norrington pauses once again, then continues. "Perhaps Sparrow was right. Perhaps I was giving into the 'dark side of ambition', as he put it."
That's too much for Elizabeth. As much as she cares for Jack and sees him as a good man, she knows he's barely half the man Norrington, and even Will, is. Again, as she has so many times since she sent Captain Jack Sparrow to his death, then helped to rescue him, she scolds herself for being so attracted to him, and wonders what she saw in him in the first place. She mulls all this over in her mind for a few more moments, then goes over to Norrington, his back turned again, and places her hand on his arm. "No, James, you weren't. Jack is wrong about that. I know you only did what you did because you felt you had no other choice. I'm sure if he thought about it hard enough, Jack would come to the very same conclusion I do. What you did was really no different than what he did by handing Will over to Davey Jones. He was desperate when he did that, and you were desperate when you handed Jones' heart over to Lord Beckett. Desperate men make such mistakes, but that doesn't mean they have to be punished for them. You've been punished enough, James- too much, in fact. You don't need to be punished, or punish yourself, anymore."
Elizabeth's words nearly move Norrington to tears, but he manages to keep his composure, though just barely. "Thank you, Elizabeth. You...don't know how much it means to me to hear you say that." He pauses and clears his throat, then starts again. "I imagine you need to return to your captain's duties now. I don't want to keep you from them."
Elizabeth sighs with slight annoyance, and says, "Yes, I suppose I should. I'd much rather stay and talk to you, though. Besides Will's father, you're the only person aboard the ship I know, and who I completely trust. " She pauses for a moment, then says, "James?" Norrington looks up. "Would you like to join Mister Turner and I for dinner tonight? I'm sure the crew knows most of the way to Shipwreck Cove, but I would like yours and Mister Turner's input as to what the best course is. The route Captain Sao Feng originally chose, of all the possible ones he could have taken, is the roughest and most treacherous. I want to do everything I can to avoid endangering my crew." Elizabeth continues. "I'd also like to talk with you more, as I said, and I know Mister Turner would welcome your company. One of the requests he made while we were still on the Dutchman was that if the chance ever presented itself, he'd very much like to meet you. Will you join us?"
Norrington smiles again, and says, "Yes, I will. I'd very much like that. Where will we be dining?"
"In the captain's quarters, if that's alright." Elizabeth answers.
"Yes, that's fine. We'll talk more then?" Elizabeth nods. "Very well. I'd best let you return to your duties, then."
"Yes, have a good afternoon, James." Elizabeth answers, smiling slightly. Having said her goodbyes, at least for the moment, Elizabeth turns and walks away. Norrington watches her go, a somewhat melancholy expression on his face. When she finally disappears from view, he turns back around towards the ocean, and continues to think about what course to take- whether to embrace piracy wholeheartedly, at least on a temporary basis, or continue to work for Beckett on a venture that in his heart, he now knows is not as commendable and admirable as it first seemed.

Sometime later, having reached his final decision on the matter, Norrington returns to his quarters. Upon crossing the threshold, he shrugs off his coat. As he picks it up to put it away, Norrington glances at the coat with intense distaste. What a few months ago was one of a collection of items he viewed as representations of a return to his former life, he now sees as nothing but a symbol of greed & a physical reminder of the dark path he set foot on and nearly followed to its end. Norrington looks disgustedly at his coat one final time, then folds it haphazardly and stuffs it in the the back of the bottom drawer in the small bureau in his quarters. As Norrington surveys his sleeping area, his glance falls on his waistcoat, hat, wig, and cravat in a neat pile, arranged exactly as they were when he was first brought aboard. He picks everything up, and without even the slightest hesitation, stows the items away with the detested coat. That dark, brief chapter of his life temporarily hidden away, Norrington emerges again from his quarters and goes about looking for another coat. Several minutes later, and after inquiring of a number of crewmen (including Murtogg & Mullroy) where on the ship he might find such an item, Norrington manages to gain possession of one. He slips it on without a second thought, and after retrieving his treasured sword, goes off to find Elizabeth and ask her if he can help in any way.
During his stroll around the ship, Norrington comes across Murtogg and Mullroy, standing watch. “Good afternoon, gentlemen.” he says pleasantly.
“And to you, sir.” Mullroy replies.
“Do either of you gentlemen happen to know where I might find Miss Swann?”
“Not for certain, no, but you might want to look for her near the wheel. That’s one area on the ship where she can often be found.”
“Thank you, Mister Mullroy, I’ll do so.”

As Norrington walks off to continue his search for Elizabeth, Murtogg turns to Mullroy and says, “Is it just me, or does Mister Norrington seem different to you?”

Part IV

The smug look disappears from Beckett’s face as he feels cold steel on his neck.
“Call off your men, sir. You know very well that unless Mister Sparrow, Miss Swann, and Mister Barbossa have men hidden around the area, as you do, they have no chance of escape, much less to put up a fight.” says an unidentified voice behind him warningly. Barbossa’s, Jack’s, Elizabeth’s, and Will’s mouths drop open with amazement.
“Ah, Admiral Norrington. I was told you had perished.” Beckett replies snidely.
Having been identified, Norrington saunters out from behind him, his sword still at Beckett’s neck. “As you can see, I’m very much alive, and reports of my death are quite incorrect.”
Beckett clears his throat and says, “Apparently so.”

The identity of the speaker revealed to them, Barbossa, Jack, and Elizabeth cannot help but voice their reactions out loud.
“What the blazes is going on here?” Barbossa exclaims.
“Mate, what are you doing here?” Jack asks in disbelief.
“James, what do you mean?” Elizabeth asks worriedly.
Barbossa and Jack turn and look at Elizabeth with a surprised, questioning expression, wondering what happened between her and Norrington to cause her to abandon any qualms she might have once had about addressing him by his first name in the presence of others. Elizabeth pays neither any heed, however, and waits for Norrington to respond.
“Exactly what I said, Elizabeth.” Norrington replies, clearly just as unbothered by Elizabeth calling him by his first name as she is about doing so. “While I was keeping watch on deck, I happened to notice a detachment of boats heading toward shore. Upon closer examination, I observed they were flying the flag of the East India Trading Company.” Pausing only long enough to increase the pressure of his blade on Beckett’s neck and allow the new information to sink in for Barbossa, Jack, and Elizabeth, Norrington continues. “I imagine the plan was to lure the three of you here and bargain, part of that deal possibly being the release of young Mister Turner. Once all transactions, such as they were, had been completed, all four of you would be seized, taken back to Port Royal and imprisoned, then executed.” Norrington turns to Beckett and says, “Is that about accurate, hmmm?” Beckett simply smiles smugly, not saying a word. “I thought so.” Norrington observes icily.

Barbossa, also noticing the expression on Beckett’s face, says, “That would seem to be the case. My thanks for your assistance in uncovering this plot, commodore, or rather, admiral.” Norrington simply nods, keeping his eyes fixed on Beckett.

Jack, grinning with all his devilish charm, comments, “I knew rooting for you would pay off someday. Thanks very much, mate.”
Turning to address Jack, Norrington replies, “That works to your advantage for the time being, yes, but as to the future, well, I can’t make any guarantees.”
“Fair enough.” Jack answers.

Norrington gives a curt nod, and turning back to Beckett, says, “Now, to return to the business at hand. I say again, call off your men, Lord Beckett.”
“You’re a very shrewd man, Admiral Norrington. That’s part of the reason I promoted you in the first place. It’s a pity you won’t be able to enjoy the respect and prestige that comes with the rank for very long.” Beckett sneers.
“As far as I’m concerned, being given an admiralty by one such as you makes the rank virtually meaningless. I did not join his majesty’s Navy to help fill the pockets of those who care only for money, to say nothing of the means by which you personally managed to gain control of Port Royal, nor am I the only one who has that knowledge. Miss Swann knows precisely what I’m speaking of.”

Elizabeth, her face hard, says, in a flinty tone, “Yes, I most certainly do.”
“I doubt the king would ignore the apparent disappearance of two members of one of England’s most highly respected families. It’s your choice.” Norrington pauses to stress his point, then resumes. “I’m telling you one last time- call off your men.
“Suppose I refuse. What will you do then, hmmm?” Beckett asks.
“If you refuse, I will cut you down right here where you stand. That’s my last warning.” Norrington replies menacingly.
“That would be exceedingly foolish, sir.”
“It may be, but you deserve nothing less.”
Beckett tries one last time to lure Norrington back over to his side. “Are you absolutely sure you are making the accurate choice in ally, Admiral Norrington?”
“I’ve never been so certain of a choice in my life, Lord Beckett.” Norrington replies sharply.

Jack raises an eyebrow at this, and leaning over to Elizabeth, whispers, “Elizabeth, has the, um, former commodore, former admiral, now… I don’t know what, gone mad or let his drink go to his head?”
“No, Jack, neither. I believe Mister Norrington has realized what party in this conflict is most in the right, and which has done the most evil since it started.”
“Oh, well then.”

“Very well.” Beckett answers. Raising his voice, he says, “Get back into formation and return to the boats, men.” At his command, forty-some odd armed EITC soldiers come out of various concealing nooks and crannies in the large, scattered outcrops of rocks and stand at attention, waiting for further orders. “We will have another opportunity to capture these misanthropes in battle. Let us go.” Before he moves to leave, Beckett turns around and says to Norrington, “You will live to regret this, sir, assuming you survive the conflict.”
Norrington, standing tall and defiant, replies resolutely, “Perhaps I will, but I know I’ll regret it far less than I would if I were to continue doing your bidding and following your orders.”
“We shall see.” Having said that, Beckett turns on his heel and walks away.
“That we shall. That we shall.” Norrington says under his breath. Davey Jones turns to follow Beckett. As he goes, Jones looks at Norrington and nods almost imperceptibly. Only Norrington, who the gesture is meant for, catches it, and he returns it in kind, knowing exactly what it means. Davey Jones turns back around and continues on his way.

As he sheathes his sword, Norrington turns to Will and says accusingly, “I’m surprised at you, Mister Turner. It seems in your eagerness and determination to free your father from Jones, you’ve forgotten your other, and at present, most important, responsibility- caring for and protecting your fiancé.”
“I’ve done no such thing.” Will replies coldly.
“No?” Norrington pauses and stares at him stonily. Will offers no further response, and Norrington continues. “The fact that, by all appearances, you made a deal with Beckett, despite his duplicitous nature and proven status as Miss Swann’s enemy, indicates otherwise.”
Will looks at Elizabeth and asks, “Elizabeth, what is he talking about?”
“Elizabeth, would you care to explain what I mean to Mister Turner?”

Will waits for Elizabeth’s answer, which she gives immediately. “Will, my father’s death was not simply an accidental result of Beckett starting on a crusade to rid the ocean of pirates and tighten the East India Trading Company’s hold on trade. Lord Beckett ordered my father’s death, Will. I don’t know why he did, but my father was killed at his request.”
Will is rendered momentarily speechless, but he recovers quickly. A somewhat ashamed look crossing his face, Will replies, "I'm sorry, Elizabeth, I didn't know." He pauses for a moment, then adds, "I think Mister Norrington is right- I did become so determined to free my father from Davey Jones that I all but abandoned my responsibility to you."
"It's alright, Will. I completely understand. I would like nothing more than to slit Beckett’s throat and avenge my father's death, but, as Jack is so fond of saying, it's best to wait for 'the opportune moment'." Jack grins proudly at hearing Elizabeth quote him. Will nods in agreement and kisses Elizabeth lightly on the cheek.

"It most certainly is, which is why we ought to be going immediately." Barbossa comments.
"Aye, mate. One of only a few things we've actually been able to agree on during this voyage." Jack interjects. Turning to Will and Elizabeth with a slightly annoyed look on his face, Jack says, "Will, Elizabeth, really mates, I'm very glad you've "kissed & made up" and all, but we really must get going.”

“That we should. Everyone follow me. I know of a route we can take to return to our ships and remain concealed, on the offchance that Beckett's men are lying in wait to make another attempt at capturing us." Norrington informs them.

Barbossa and Jack exchange a look, then Barbossa whispers, nodding in Norrington's direction, "Are you sure we can trust him? Granted, he did tell us Lord Beckett had posted men around the location of the meeting place, and that turned out to be true, but he is still a member of the Royal Navy, is he not?"
Jack remains silent as he takes things into consideration, then finally answers, "No, not exactly, mate. Mister Norrington made some very foolish mistakes, and was robbed of his former life as a result. I almost feel sorry for the man, honestly." Jack pauses, then resumes. "Despite the fact that I trust him no more than I trust you, we really have no other option but to accept his help."
Barbossa nods and says, "Yes, as loathe as I am to admit it, you're quite right, Jack. Another uneasy alliance, then?"
"Aye, mate. Though as foolish as it might turn out to be in the end, I feel rather more confident about this alliance."
"Do ya, now? That hurts my feelings, Jack.”
"So sorry, mate, but the fact of the matter is that though Mister Norrington has pursued me relentlessly for the past two years, he has not once stolen a ship from me. You, on the other hand, have, and that, my dear Barbossa, is an offense that is very hard to forgive, savvy?" Jack pauses for a moment, then continues. "So you'll have to excuse me if I tend to trust others, pirates or not, members of the king's Navy or not, more than I trust you, hey?"
"Ah, but what of the whelp, young Mister Turner, Jack? He betrayed you at least as much as I did, if not more, did he not?" Barbossa retorts.
"Aye, mate, he did. He and I are going to have a little chat about that presently, savvy?" Jack counters.
"Very well. Just making sure fingers are being pointed equally amongst us, aye?" Jack nods. "Good. Are we in agreement as to the plan, then?" Barbossa inquires, holding out a hand.
"Aye, mate, we are." Jack answers, returning the gesture. Barbossa nods.

Before Jack has a chance to answer Barbossa, Norrington, in an annoyed tone, calls out from the front of the group, "Gentlemen, are you coming or not?"
"Yes, yes, of course, right away, Mister Norrington!" Jack replies quickly.
"Well, hurry it up then, would you please?" Norrington calls back, growing impatient.

“We best get moving. Admiral Norrington is becoming restless.” Barbossa observes.
“Yes, he is. Let’s go, then.” Jack replies. Barbossa and Jack rush after the rest of the group and take up a position behind them.
“Thank you, gentlemen, so good of you to join us.” Norrington says, smirking.
“Apologies for the delay. Captain Sparrow and I had some things to discuss before we joined the rest of you.” Barbossa replies suavely.
“Did you?” Norrington asks coolly.
“Aye, we did.” Barbossa answers
“I imagine you covered everything in the conversation you had just now?”
“Yes, I believe we did.” Barbossa replies. Turning to Jack, he says, “What do you think, Jack? Did we discuss everything we needed to?”

“Aye, mate, we did.” Jack answers.

“Good, then we can continue on our way. Remember to stay together and keep a wary eye out, alright?” Norrington tells the rest of the assembled group. They all nod, and start on their way, Norrington in the lead.

They all walk in silence for a while, then Jack sidles up to Will and says, “William, a moment of your time?”
Elizabeth, recognizing that something is brewing, turns to Jack and asks concernedly, “Jack, what’s going on?”
“Nothing to worry about, love, young Will and I just need to discuss a few things, that’s all.”
Elizabeth, having a very good idea of exactly what Jack is referring to, says, “He didn’t know about Beckett’s plan to kill my father, he said so in both our hearing, and I believe him, why won’t you?” Elizabeth waits, hoping for a response from Jack, but he gives none, so she continues. “Alright, perhaps Will did betray us in a way, but it’s nothing compared to what Barbossa did to you! Even so, you trust him enough to keep him aware of our plans, why should Will be any different?”

In a gentle tone, Will says, “It’s alright, Elizabeth. This had to come up between Jack and I sometime. It’s better that we resolve it now, rather than later.” Will leans down and kisses Elizabeth on the forehead. As he does so, he whispers, “Besides, if Jack wants to fight me over this, I can beat him without any problem. I’ve done it before, and I can do it again.” He kisses her once more, this time on the lips, then turns to Jack and says, “Alright, Jack, lead the way.”

“With pleasure.” Jack replies. Turning to Elizabeth, he says, “No worries, love, this shouldn’t take long.” Turning back to Will, Jack calls, “Let’s go, Will.” Will nods, and follows Jack into the trees.

Norrington, who had been watching the exchange unobserved, makes himself known once Jack and Will disappear from view. “Ah, that’s what they needed to discuss. Interesting.” Norrington observes.
Elizabeth, startled by the sound of his voice, jumps slightly. Upon turning around and seeing him, she says, “Oh, James! I thought you had gone ahead and were waiting for us, I’m sorry!”
“Don’t be. I startled you, not the other way around. It seems Mister Turner and Mister Sparrow have ended up at odds.” Norrington comments.
“Yes, I’m worried they’re going to kill each other!”
“Mmmmm…No, I don’t think so. This is going to sound strange coming from me, but I don’t think that is what Mister Sparrow is planning to do, nor Mister Turner, for that matter. They may not even fight, they may just talk.”
“That does sound unusual coming from you, James, especially in Jack’s case.”
Norrington laughs slightly, then says, “I thought it would. I do mean it, however.”
A look of surprise crosses Elizabeth’s face, and she says, “You do?” Norrington nods. “Why? Surely not because you think Jack is unwilling to kill someone who has wronged him, because I can confidently say he is, especially if the person’s offense against him is severe! If not for Tia Dalma, Barbossa would still be a corpse hidden in the depths of Isla De Muerta, where Jack left him.”
“Oh no, that’s not my reason at all. I know very well Mister Sparrow is capable of doing that very thing, I’ve never doubted he is.” Norrington pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts, then resumes. “No, I said what I did about how he is going to deal with Mister Turner’s betrayal for a very different reason.”
“And that is?” Elizabeth asks.
“Knowing what I now do about what Lord Beckett has done, and why he’s engaging in this campaign to put an end to all pirates, then comparing it to why Mister Sparrow has done what he has, I’m beginning to believe, to my surprise, that Lord Beckett is a far more dangerous man than Mister Sparrow is, and ever could be. As I said to Mister Sparrow earlier, while I can’t guarantee I won’t pursue him in the future, at present, Lord Beckett is the individual who must answer for his deeds, through death, if necessary.”
Elizabeth is surprised and amazed by this admission from Norrington, and says so. "James, what, if I may ask, brought on this change in your view about Jack?"
"A number of things, but two in particular." Norrington replies. He remains silent for a while, thinking over his response.
As he does so, Elizabeth inquires, “And those are?”
A few more minutes of silence follow, then Norrington resumes. “First, Captain Sparrow is not your typical pirate. As you, Mister Turner, and your father have all said at one point or another, at times to me directly, or within my hearing, he is, at heart, a good man, unlike many who have chosen that profession." Norrington pauses, then, nodding at Barbossa, standing some distance away, says, "That gentleman is the perfect example of everything Sparrow is not. I do hope all of you are keeping a close eye on him.”
“Yes, James, we are.”
“Good. He’s only slightly trustworthy, if even that. He is liable to turn on you without hesitation, should it strike his fancy to do so.”
Nodding, Elizabeth replies, “I know, as do Will and Jack. Every one of us is being cautious around him, believe me.”
Giving just a hint of a smile, Norrington answers, “I’m glad. Now, returning to Mister Sparrow. Secondly, as I said, between him and Lord Beckett, Beckett is, at present, the most dangerous of the two, in both a domestic sense and an international sense. Attacking merchant ships of other nations without provocation is only going to increase the tension already just below the surface of the delicate relations between England and her neighbors.

Meanwhile, concealed in a grove of palm trees, Jack and Will are standing face to face, the tension between them clearly evident in their demeanor. “Of all the people involved in this voyage, you’re the last one I would have expected to betray me. I suppose I should have expected as much, though, considering the only reason you helped rescue me from old fishface’s desert hell was so you could use my ship to catch the Dutchman and free your father.” Jack pauses for a moment, then, in a tone with a slight tinge of sadness, says, “Did it ever once cross your mind that all you needed to do was ask me to go after your father? You know as well as Elizabeth does that I don’t trust Barbossa as far as I can throw him! I’d have had no problem locking him in the brig and keeping him there! It would have been poetic justice to do that, in fact!” Jack, now somewhat angry, pauses to calm himself, then resumes. “You’re also forgetting one very important thing, William- your father was my closest friend! The man allowed Barbossa to throw him overboard with cannonballs tied to his boots, for god sakes! If he hadn’t been crushed, he’d have died once the Aztec curse had been lifted! As it happened, Davey Jones floated by and offered him a deal, which he took and, as you now know, saved him from both fates, though the one he was given instead turned out to be much worse. It is, in fact, a cruel, torturous death of sorts, and is really no different than if he truly had sacrificed his life for me.” Jack pauses momentarily, fully realizing, for the first time, how great a price Bootstrap Bill willingly paid to absolve himself of his guilt over taking part in the mutiny. Jack, subdued and in a melancholy tone, then says, “Don’t you think I’d be willing to do anything, including facing down Davey Jones again, to repay your father for his demonstration of loyalty and friendship in allowing Barbossa to throw him to his death?”
Will, his voice hard, retorts, “No, Jack, I don’t. In the short time I’ve known you, I’ve arrived at the conclusion that you only help others if you can somehow benefit from it!”
Jack, turning a fierce glare on him, replies, “Then you don’t know me as well as you think, Will!”
Will laughs scornfully and says, “You’ve done nothing that proves otherwise, Jack.”
Jack does not respond, he simply gives Will another angry glare, then turns his back and walks a few feet off. He paces about for a while, then turns around and walks back to Will. In a stern tone, Jack says, “Enough of this chit-chat, we have a score to settle.” He draws his sword and presses it to Will’s neck, as if to slit his throat, then says, “Your underhanded seizure of the Pearl for your own isn’t the only thing I’ve taken issue with and consider a betrayal, Will. That was bad enough, but on top of it, you made a deal with Lord Beckett! Him, of all people, who is as much of a threat to you and Elizabeth as he is to me, Barbossa, and every other pirate who sails the ocean!” Jack pauses, then adds sharply, “That pint-size weasel ruined my life and your father’s, Will! When you met with Beckett after he interrupted your wedding, I imagine he mentioned that we had history. Am I right?”
“Yes, he said something to that effect.” Will replies.
“Allow me to explain precisely what he meant, then.”
“Alright, Jack, I’m listening.”
“I wasn’t always a pirate, Will.”
Will scoffs, then says, “Oh really? I find that extremely hard to believe, Jack!”
Jack doesn’t answer, he just continues with his narrative. “When I was a young man, I was a merchant seaman who worked for the East India Trading Company. Your father was my first mate, Will, so your insistence that he was a merchant sailor was partly correct.” Jack pauses, expecting Will to answer back, but he doesn’t, too shocked by the revelation to respond. “Made you speechless, have I?” Jack resumes. “Well, I’ll continue then, unless you want to ask any questions, that is.”
Will finally reclaims the use of his voice, and asks, “You worked for Beckett and the East India Trading Company? From the way you talk of them, I’d think you wouldn’t want to have any dealings with them at all! If it’s true, though, you have no right to confront me for simply making a deal with Beckett!”
Jack reflects on Will’s response for a moment, then says, “You’re right, Will, I don’t.” Jack pauses and sheathes his sword, then resumes. “Which is partly why I’m not going to kill you. Also, I’d never do such a thing to Elizabeth, much as I’d like to have her for myself.”
“So you do care for her! I thought so! That explains the kiss before she left you on the Pearl!”
“Kiss? What kiss?” Jack replies.
Will gives Jack a hard glare, and says, “You know exactly what kiss, Jack!”
“Oh, that kiss- that was nothing, Will, I assure you.”
“Is that so? It didn’t look like nothing to me, Jack!”
“Yes, that’s true, but that’s exactly what it was, as it turned out.” Jack replies, the slightest tinge of glumness in his voice. “The attraction wasn’t mutual.”
“It wasn’t?” Will asks, surprised.
“No, not at all.”
Whether it’s the tone of Jack’s voice, or something else, Will believes him, and says, “If it wasn’t that, then what was it?”
Jack hesitates before responding, then says, “I want to give you fair warning, Will. What I’m about to tell you may make you think twice about marrying Elizabeth.”
“Nothing she might do will ever change my feelings for her, so out with it.” Will replies.
“Alright, Will, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. That kiss you were unfortunate enough to witness wasn’t one of love. Elizabeth kissed me to distract me so she could chain me to the Pearl and all of you could escape.”
“She did that to save us and the crew?” Will inquires.
“Yes, though it wasn’t at all necessary.” Jack replies bitterly.
“Wasn’t it?” Will comments, a hardness to his voice. “Can you honestly say you would have stayed if Elizabeth hadn’t made you? I seriously doubt it!”
Jack is caught off guard by the question, but he forces himself to reflect on it. After a long stretch of silence, Jack answers, “Yes, Will, I would have. That ship is my life, my freedom, my love! I wouldn’t abandon her just to avoid becoming a meal for an oversized squid!”
Nodding, Will replies, “My apologies, Jack, I was wrong.”
“No worries, mate. Like I said, you don’t know me as well as you’d like to think.” Jack pauses, then says. “What were we talking about again?”
“The ‘history’ between you and Lord Beckett.” Will replies.
“Oh yes, that’s right. The reason I chose to work for Beckett in the first place doesn’t matter, I’ll tell you that story another time. What does is how I ended up being branded a pirate, and why your father ended up being one as well. The short version is this- I was ordered to deliver a form of cargo that I didn’t see as or consider to be such.”
“What was it?” Will asks, intrigued.
“A group of Africans who were going to be sold as slaves, Will.”
Will stares at him in disbelief, and says, “Slaves, Jack?” Jack nods. Will prepares to respond with another comment that Jack is making it up, but again, something in his eyes tells Will he’s speaking the truth. Instead, Will says, “Alright, so Beckett ordered you to deliver a cargo of slaves, or rather, a group of people who were going to be made slaves. What then?”
“When I learned just what this “cargo” was, I decided to disobey my orders, and let them go instead.”
“Let them go? Where? In Africa?” Will asks, becoming increasingly interested by the minute.
“No.” Jack lowers his head for a moment and pushes the sand around with the toe of one of his boots. He looks up again, and says, “When you, Elizabeth, and the crew went back to Tia Dalma’s after Jones’ beastie dragged me and the Pearl down into the depths, do you recall rowing through a large group of Africans standing in the swamp?”
“Yes, I do. They were all holding candles, and looked very unhappy. I could never figure out why.” Will answers.
“Many of those people are probably either the children of that group I freed, or, if they were children at the time, are now adults and remember what I did for them. That’s probably why they looked so upset. They somehow got wind of what had happened to me, possibly even from Tia Dalma herself, and were paying their respects, or something.”
“You let them go there in the Caribbean?” Will exclaims.
“Yes, and Beckett found out about it, had me arrested, brought to him, and personally branded me a pirate.” Jack, a slight discomfort visible in his manner, pauses for a moment to compose himself, then continues. “That staff he always carries-“ Will nods. “Have you ever managed to sneak a good peek at it?”
“No, why?” Will asks.
“The top of it is decorated with a “P” stamp. That’s what he uses to brand anyone he deems is deserving of being given that permanently condemning label.”
Will glances down, seemingly lost in thought, and observes out loud, “That’s what he meant by ‘We each left a mark on one another.’ ”
“Is that the way he described it to you? How very quaint.” Jack comments disdainfully. “I imagine you’d like to know what mark I left on him?” he adds, with some distaste.
“No, not particularly. I would like to know how my father figures into this, though.” Will answers.
“Ah yes, your father. Simply put, he became a pirate as well. After my branding, I told your father to leave on the next ship out and return to you and your mother, but he refused. I continued to insist on it, but, stubborn man that he is, he wouldn’t hear of it. Instead, he came up with the incredibly stupid idea of helping me escape. It was successful, but the combination of that action and the connection he already had to me as a member of my crew cemented his identity as a pirate.” Jack stops and waits for Will to respond, but he remains silent, so Jack continues. “And that brings me to the other reason I’m not going to kill you. Because everything you did, you did to save your father, I’ll let it go. Just don’t let it happen again, savvy?” he says, winking.
Nodding and offering his hand, Will replies, “It won’t, Jack, I give you my word.”
Jack accepts Will’s renewed offer of friendship, and shaking his hand, says, “Alright, then. We have an agreement. We’d best head back. I’m sure by now, Norrington isn’t the only member of our little group who’s restless and eager to get going.”
“Very likely not.” Will agrees.

They walk out of the trees side by side and make their way back to Norrington, Elizabeth, and Barbossa, waiting on the beach. Barbossa sees them first and says, “Ah, there they are.” Turning to Jack, he says, half in jest, “We were about to continue on our way and leave ya to your fates. Pirates’ code, you know.”
“I beg your pardon, my dear Barbossa, but they are just guidelines, remember?” Jack retorts, grinning. Barbossa gives him a look, but says nothing. “As such, they can be altered and changed at any time and for any reason. Besides, we didn’t actually fall behind, so the “He who falls behind stays behind” rule doesn’t apply in this situation.”
Barbossa gives Jack another withering look, and says, annoyed, “Alright, alright, Jack, you win! Let’s just get off this godforsaken spit of land and catch up with the rest of the Brethren!” With that, he stalks off in a foul mood. Elizabeth, Will, and Jack look at one another and grin, a few isolated chuckles escaping from each of them.

Norrington looks at them, an expression of bewilderment on his face, and says, “What’s so funny? Are you all laughing at some private pirate joke I’m not privy to because I’m not a real pirate?”

Elizabeth, still giggling slightly, replies, “No, James, I’ll explain the hilarity behind what Barbossa just said later.”
“Alright.” Norrington answers, shrugging. He then turns around and begins walking.

Her jovial mood reined in for the moment, Elizabeth turns to Will and Jack and asks, “Is everything resolved between you two now?”
Nodding, Jack replies, “Just fine, love.”
Shifting her glance from Jack to Will, Elizabeth inquires, “Will?”

“Yes, Elizabeth, everything's fine.” he replies, smiling. “But we’d better get going before Norrington and Barbossa leave us behind.” Jack and Elizabeth nod, and the trio rushes after Norrington.

They catch up a few minutes later, and find him waiting for them anxiously. Seeing them, he says, “There you all are! Good. We need to hurry, before Barbossa gets too far ahead and causes some mischief!” Without another word, all three fall in behind Norrington, Will surrendering his place as second in line to be near Elizabeth, in case the group is surprised by Beckett’s men, and she needs some assistance.

Jack, noticing his close proximity to Norrington, asks, “Norrington, mate?”
Turning to him, Norrington says, “Yes, Captain Sparrow?”
“What were you thinking back there, threatening Beckett like that? Don’t get me wrong, I’m very grateful, but really, what got into your head, man?”
Norrington, a reflective look crossing his face, glances down briefly, then answers, “A wise gentleman once told me that ‘On the rare occasion, an act of piracy may, in fact, be the right course’. “That was such an occasion.”
Nodding, Jack replies, “Governor Swann was indeed a very wise gentleman.”
“Yes, he was.” Norrington answers quietly.

Further down the length of the beach, at the point where the waterline meets the edge of the sand, a longboat is moored to a rocky outcrop in a small, hidden grotto. Two figures, silhouetted by the slowly fading daylight, are standing guard over the boat, muskets at the ready.
"It's getting awfully late, don't you think we ought to go look for him or the others?" Murtogg muses, an undertone of anxiousness and worry audible in his voice.
Shaking his head fiercely, Mullroy replies, "No, he told us that if he wasn't back by sunset, we were to go back to the ship and let Mister Turner know he needed to put together a search party. That's what he ordered us to do, and that's what we're going to do." No sooner do the echoes of Mullroy's voice off the grotto's walls fade, when the sound of approaching footsteps is heard. "Who's there? Identify yourself!" Mullroy calls out into the darkness, his musket aimed to fire.

"Not to worry, Mister Mullroy, it's just me."
"Oh, Mister Norrington, sir, I'm sorry!" Mullroy answers, as Norrington's face materializes out of the gloom.
"Sorry? For what, man? You were just doing your job, no need to apologize." Norrington replies, clapping Mullroy on the shoulder and giving a half-smile.
"Thank you, sir." Mullroy answers.
Norrington nods, then says, "Did you encounter any trouble while I was gone?"
"No sir, none at all." Mullroy replies.
"Good, very good." Turning to Jack, he says, "Captain Sparrow?"

"Yeah, mate?" Jack answers.
"How far from here is your ship anchored?"
"About a mile or two away. Why?"
"A mile or two, you say?"
"Aye."
"Hmmm... Then perhaps it would be wise to take you there ourselves, rather than leave you to find your way back and put you, and anyone else who is with you, at risk of being caught, yes?"
"I suppose so, but surely we can't all fit in that little boat!"
Norrington chuckles and says, "Of course we can! It will just be a bit tight, is all."
Jack, becoming more and more baffled by Norrington's behavior, answers, shrugging, "Alright, whatever you say, mate, let's get in the boat and get going." Norrington nods, and each of them step into the longboat, Murtogg and Mullroy taking command of the oars.

A few minutes into the trip, Jack leans over to Elizabeth and murmurs, "Elizabeth, are you absolutely positive Mister Norrington hasn't taken to the bottle again? He's not acting like himself at all!"
Elizabeth gives him an annoyed look and answers, “Yes, Jack, I'm sure!"

Will, sitting on the other side of her, overhears and asks, "Sure of what?"
"That the reason for Norrington's change in behavior isn't that he's taken to drinking again."
"Oh. I was wondering about that, too. What is going on with him?"
Elizabeth gives an exasperated sigh, annoyed with them both.

Norrington hears her, and calls gently, “Elizabeth, is something the matter?”
“No, James, I’m fine.” she replies.
“Alright.”

Turning back to Jack and Will, Elizabeth, a slight edge to her voice, says, “Didn’t either of you ever once consider he might be doing everything he is because he wants to and truly believes he’s doing the right thing?” Jack and Will look at each other sheepishly, but don’t answer her question. Giving them a hard look, Elizabeth says, “I didn’t think so. You might want to think about that, considering we owe him our freedom and our lives.” She doesn’t utter another word, and the rest of the boat trip goes by in silence- Elizabeth in a sullen mood, Jack and Will sitting quietly, thinking over her words.

An hour or so later, they arrive at the location of Shipwreck Cove in which the Pearl and the Empress are anchored. Once there, Murtogg and Mullroy cease rowing, and leave the current to take the longboat the rest of the way.
Leaning to the side and calling to Jack, Norrington asks, “Captain Sparrow, where’s your ship anchored?”
“Over there.” Jack answers, pointing to a large, stationary object about twenty feet away.
Norrington looks in the direction Jack is pointing, and replies, “Ah yes, I see it. Not too far from ours, then.” Turning back to Murtogg and Mullroy, he says, “Gentlemen, take Mister Sparrow and Mister Barbossa back to their ship, if you would, please.”

“Yes sir!” Mullroy replies.

Halfway to their destination, Norrington’s attitude and expression of relative calm suddenly reconfigure themselves into ones of alertness and caution. Noticing the abrupt change in his manner, Elizabeth asks, “James, what is it?”
“There, about fifteen feet ahead- do you see that longboat coming toward us?” Elizabeth looks in the direction he’s pointing, and nods. “Can you tell who it is? Are they waving a flag, or something of that sort?”
“No, I can’t. They aren’t waving a flag, but they are hailing us. Will? Jack? Can either of you see anything more?”

Both shake their heads, then Jack says, “We can still have a look-see, though. Give me a moment.” Having said that, he reaches down and pulls his spyglass from his baldric buckle. As he extends it and looks through it, a smile creeps onto his face. “No worries, mates, it’s Mister Gibbs and Mister Cotton.”
“Are you positive about that, Jack?” Elizabeth asks uneasily.
“Of course I am! But, if it would make you feel better, you can all look yourselves.” Jack hands Elizabeth the spyglass, and after looking through it, she hands it over to Will. All four exchange it in turn, until it reaches Jack once again. “Are you all satisfied? Have all your worries been put to rest?” Everyone nods. “Good.” Jack replies. Turning to Murtogg and Mullroy, he says, “Gentlemen, if you’d be so kind as to get us somewhat closer to Mister Gibbs’ and Mister Cotton’s boat?” Murtogg and Mullroy look to Norrington for instruction.

Nodding, he says, “Do as Captain Sparrow asks.”
Jack, realizing his mistake at the last minute, rushes to correct it- “Oh, my apologies, mate. These were originally your men, after all.” Jack answers respectfully.
Shaking his head, Norrington replies, “No apology required. Every one of us in this boat is on equal footing now.”
Nodding thoughtfully, Jack comments, “We are all essentially in the same boat.”

Norrington gives a muffled chuckle and says, “If you want to put it that way, yes I suppose we are.” The friendly exchange between Jack and Norrington eases the tension permeating the thoughts and feelings of the longboats occupants, and they all relax slightly. Murtogg and Mullroy row the longboat forward a ways, then Gibbs and Cotton paddle up next to them.

Grinning, Gibbs says, “Jack! I’m mighty glad to see ye all made it back safely! The crew and I were gettin’ ready to put together a search party and come look for ya!”
Smiling appreciatively at him, Jack answers, “That’s very kind of you, Gibbs, mate, but remember, I’m Captain Jack Sparrow!” To further stress his point, Jack gives a mischievous wink.
Chuckling heartily, Gibbs replies, “That ye are, captain, that ye are!”
For a brief moment, a reflective expression crosses Jack’s face, after which he says, “Of course, I can’t take all the credit. We might have gotten totally lost if not for Mister Norrington’s help.”
A startled look crosses Gibbs’ face as he looks past Jack, Murtogg and Mullroy, and Barbossa.

“Good day, Mister Gibbs.” Norrington says amiably.
“Commodore, you’re…!” Gibbs answers with surprise.
“Alive and not in uniform?” Norrington replies, an amused smile on his face. Gibbs nods. “Surprised?” Norrington adds.
“Well, yes sir, extremely!” Gibbs pauses, then says, “I’m wonderin’, if you don’t mind me askin’, whether it was by force, or by choice.”
“Surrendering my uniform?” Norrington inquires.
“Aye.” Gibbs answers.
“By choice, Mister Gibbs, by choice. Actually, the best way to describe what I did with it is to say I discarded it.”
Gibbs looks at him quizzically and asks, “When you say ‘discarded’, what do ye mean? You tossed it overboard?”
Norrington laughs and says, “No, Mister Gibbs, though that crossed my mind once or twice- it’s absolutely hideous!” Norrington chuckles to himself for a moment, then clears his throat and says, “But no, I didn’t throw it overboard. I simply put it away in my quarters on Miss Swann’s ship.”
Another startled look crosses Gibbs’ face, and turning to Jack, he asks, “Miss Elizabeth has a ship?”

Nodding, Jack answers, “Aye, she does.”
“How did she come by it?”
“Sao Feng gave her command of his ship before surrendering his last breath.”
“Ah, I see.” Turning to Elizabeth and extending his hand, Gibbs says, “Miss Elizabeth, I believe congratulations are in order.”

Smiling appreciatively and taking his hand, Elizabeth replies, “Thank you, Mister Gibbs.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Elizabeth.” Gibbs answers, smiling slightly. Turning back to Norrington, he says, “Sir, I’m curious about one other thing.”

“What’s that, Mister Gibbs?” Norrington answers.
“What made ya come to the decision to leave the Royal Navy immediately after being reinstated and join up with us pirates?”
“Suffice it to say I discovered the motives of my employer were not as admirable as I had first thought. Or, as Miss Swann so eloquently put it, I now realize which of the parties in this conflict is most in the right, and which has committed the most atrocious deeds thus far. As it turned out, you, your captain, and the rest of his crew are the former, and Lord Beckett and his men are the latter.”
“Aye, I see. Well, we’re mighty glad to have ye with us, sir.”
“Thank you, Mister Gibbs.”

Before Gibbs can say a word, Barbossa cuts in. “All this small talk is very pleasant, but we really ought to leave as soon as possible!” he says, annoyed with the delay.
“We aren’t going anywhere until we’ve figured out some plan of attack.” Jack says sternly. “Besides, it’s nearly dark, and this bloody fog has made it impossible to see anything we might be able to use as an aid in navigation. We’d be sailing virtually blind, so we’ll do no further traveling tonight. We’ll drop anchor here and start off again in the morning, when the fog’s cleared.”

“I agree with you on everything but one point, Jack.” Will interjects.
“Do you? And what point might that be, Will?”
“Where we’ll be making anchor. If Beckett and his fleet are still nearby, they’re sure to see us- we’re much too exposed here. We need to stay the night someplace where we’re better hidden.”

Nodding, Norrington comments, “Mister Turner makes an excellent point. I vote we take his suggestion and drop anchor somewhere more concealed than this.”

“I agree with him as well.” Elizabeth says.

“Will, lad, I see your point, but isn’t there still a risk of bein’ seen while lookin’ for a place to pass the night?” Gibbs asks.
“Yes, Mister Gibbs, there is, but better then, when all of us are awake and alert, than here, where we’re sure to be caught off guard because half of us or less are keeping watch, and the rest are asleep.”
“Oh, aye! I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Gibbs replies. “Alright, lad. I’m leanin’ toward agreein’ with ya, but I’d like to hear what the captain thinks first.” he adds.
“Of course.” Will answers, nodding understandingly. Then, turning to Jack, he says, “Well, Jack, what’s your opinion on this?”
“Hmmmm… . Yes, excellent idea. It’s a bit risky, but nowhere near as risky as staying here out in the open would be. A very good suggestion.” Looking in Barbossa’s direction, he calls, “Barbossa, mate, what’s your stand on this?”

“Well, much as I’d prefer we continue on our way, perhaps it would be more prudent to wait until morning. As to young Mister Turner’s suggestion, I’m also in agreement that we need to spend the night in a more concealed location.”

“Alright then, it’s settled. We’ll all return to our ships, and continue from there. Once we’ve started moving again, I think it would be wise to sail close together so we can watch each other’s backs, as it were.” Jack suggests. “Once we’ve found a location to drop anchor, supped, and done any other pressing tasks on our respective ships, we’ll meet on the Empress, if that isn’t too much trouble for Miss Swann and her crew, of course.” Jack adds.

“No, it’s no problem at all.” Elizabeth answers.
“Good. Anything else, anyone?” Jack asks.

“Aye.” Barbossa says.
“Yeah mate?” Jack replies stiffly.
“What exactly will be the purpose of this meeting?”
“To discuss how best to co-ordinate our attacks tomorrow.”
“Ah, of course. That’s all I wished to know, Jack. Much thanks.”
“You’re most welcome, mate.” Jack answers, a hint of tension still evident in his tone.

With that, Barbossa turns around and starts stepping into the other longboat. With Barbossa’s back turned, Norrington motions for Jack to come to him. Jack looks at him quizzically, but goes over to him, despite his reservations.
“What is it, mate?” Jack asks quietly.
“Two former members of Captain Barbossa’s crew are now in yours, correct?” Norrington inquires.
“Aye. Why do you ask?”
“In the short time we’ve traveled together today, I’ve noticed, with increasing suspicion, that Mister Barbossa has been the most vocal challenger and dissenter. Doesn’t that concern you even slightly?”
“No, not particularly.”
“Perhaps it should.”
Jack looks at him piercingly and says, “What are you getting at, mate?”
“Allow me to put it another way- Do you believe you can trust those two men? More importantly, do you believe you can trust Barbossa?”
“Well, Pintel and what’s-his-name, the one missing an eye, are mildly intelligent together, but alone…well, let’s just say they’re quite lacking, so I’m not the least bit worried about them. As for Captain Barbossa, the duration I’ll have trust in him won’t go past the end of this voyage. At present, we both have a common enemy and common interest in coming out on top in this war begun by his lordship the weasel. After that, Barbossa would just as soon kill me as congratulate me for winning a battle or thank me for my help.”
Nodding, Norrington replies, “Your strategy is a very good one, Captain Sparrow, but it’s by no means a failsafe one.”
“Meaning what, mate?” Jack replies defensively.
“Captain Barbossa led a mutiny against you because he wanted your ship, yes?”
“Well, yes, and because he… Wait a minute! How did you know about that?”
“I learned of it from the elder Mister Turner in conversation the first time we met.”
Jack looks at him in surprise and says, “Wait, didn’t you come here on Elizabeth’s ship?” Norrington nods. “Then where did you meet him? On the Dutchman?”
“Yes and no.” Norrington replies.
“Which means?”
“We did meet there, but not on friendly terms.”
“Alright, then where?” Jack asks, exasperated.
“Aboard Miss Swann’s ship one evening at dinner.”
Jack grows wide-eyed and exclaims quietly, “How did he come to be there?”
“Apparently, Jones’ heart got the better of him, and he let Elizabeth, Mister Murtogg, Mister Mullroy, and I go, and also released Mister Turner from his eternal service aboard the Dutchman.”
Looking at him in disbelief, Jack replies, “Are you pulling me leg, mate?”
“No, Captain Sparrow, I’m not, I assure you. I can still hardly believe it myself, but it’s quite true. You can ask Miss Swann if you need further proof.”
A thoughtful look crosses Jack’s face, and he comments, “That’s interesting, that’s very interesting.” No sooner do those words leave his mouth, than his thoughtful expression is replaced by one of anger, and he adds, venomously, “What I wouldn’t have given for the slimy git to be as forgiving and charitable to me!” Jack pauses for a moment, then says, “Of course, I may have deserved it.”
“From what little I learned during the short time I was a member of your crew, it appears you did. But enough discussion of all that, we’ve drifted rather far from the original issue.”
“Aye, we have. What did you originally call me over for?”
“I suspect that Captain Barbossa is planning to seize your ship again, after this conflict between you, your other allies, and Lord Beckett has been resolved. Now, it may be your current crew is far more loyal than your previous one, but there’s no guarantee, considering you’ve been at sea for what, two or two-and-a-half years without any respite, correct?”
“Aye, more or less. But I have serious doubts that any of my crew is so weary of being at sea they’d be open to partaking in a mutiny! Mister Gibbs did express his discontent that we hadn’t gone in search of any treasure, but I thought nothing of it, especially after he and the rest of the crew so readily agreed to help me search for Jones’ key and chest.”
Nodding, Norrington replies, “Perhaps I am viewing your crew with too much suspicion.” He pauses for a moment, then resumes. “But Jack- May I call you that?”
“You can call me whatever you like, mate, just so long as I can call you James.”
“I’ll consider it. Now, to return to the subject of discussion. While in all likelihood, you need not watch your crew continuously, you must be wary of Captain Barbossa.”

Just as Jack is about to answer, Barbossa says, “Are ya comin’ Jack, or aren’t ya?”
“Just a moment, mate!” Turning back to Norrington, Jack asks, “Why are you helping me so willingly all of a sudden?”

A perplexed expression crosses his face, and shrugging, Norrington replies, “Frankly, I haven’t the slightest idea. All I know is something, though I’ve no inkling what, continues convincing me it’s the right thing to do.”
Nodding, Jack answers, “Seems as good a reason as any. Thanks very much, mate!” Norrington nods. “Is that all?” Jack asks.
“Mmmm… . Yes, it is.”
“Alright then. We’ll meet again later on the Empress, aye?”
“Yes, until then.” Jack nods and tentatively offers his hand. After a brief moment of hesitation, Norrington extends his own and shakes Jack’s. Once done, Jack turns around and begins to step out of the longboat. As he does so, Norrington grabs him firmly by the shoulder and says, “Jack, use the utmost caution around Captain Barbossa.”
Winking, Jack replies, “I will, mate, don’t you worry.” The two men shake hands once more, then Jack ensconces himself into the longboat holding Gibbs, Barbossa, and Cotton, after which the two groups part ways for the time being.

As they watch the other longboat disappear into the hazy, gold-tinged orange light of a beginning sunset, Elizabeth leans out and says, “James? What were you and Jack conversing about just now?”
“I was simply giving him the same warning I gave you earlier, in case he wasn’t heeding it already.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth answers, nodding.
“Shall we continue on our way?” Norrington says.
“Yes, most definitely.” Elizabeth replies.
“Alright.” Then, turning to Murtogg and Mullroy, he says, “Gentlemen, take us back to the ship.”

“Yes sir!” Mullroy says, grinning. After maneuvering the longboat so it points in the direction of the Empress, Murtogg and Mullroy resume rowing.

The next few minutes pass by in silence, as the longboat’s remaining occupants watch the sun disappear behind the fog and down below the horizon. A short time later, they reach the Empress. Norrington disembarks first, followed by Will. Not more than a foot from the top end of the rope, Will stops dead and looks up at suddenly hearing the sound of his name. Looking down at him, his arms folded on top of the railing, Norrington says, “Mister Turner, what seems to be the matter? You look as if you’ve just seen a ghost!”

Will pays Norrington no heed, turning instead to Bootstrap Bill, standing next to him. “Father! How?” Will exclaims in astonishment.
“How what, William?” Bootstrap Bill replies blandly.
“Well, how did you escape from Jones and the Dutchman?”
“I didn’t. The captain released me from my service.”
“He what?” Will, growing wide-eyed, exclaims.
“I’m no longer required to serve for eternity aboard his ship.”
“What made him change his mind?” Will asks.
Inclining his head in Norrington’s direction, Bootstrap Bill replies, “The commodore here can tell you the rest. I’ll soon have to see to my duties.”

Norrington nods graciously to Bootstrap Bill, then looks down at Will again, and doing his best not to laugh, says, “That I can, but before I do, you may want to stop hanging there in midair and come up on deck.”
Will glances down, then, with a slight hint of embarrassment, says, “Oh, right.” With one final bit of effort, he clears the rope and lands up on deck in between Norrington and Bootstrap Bill. Will shakes his father’s hand firmly, then, turning to Norrington and nodding, says, “Mister Norrington, good evening to you.”
“Likewise, Mister Turner.” Norrington replies, smiling politely.