Post by psigen on Jan 12, 2009 18:56:10 GMT
A Torchwood Christmas Carol
Whoever first said 'Time was the great healer of all pain' had been talking out of his arse, decided Jack Harkness as he filed away a report on the latest addition to the Torchwood Weevil collection.
It was eerily silent, as he cast a glance around the Hub, alone with his thoughts and his demons.
The darkness and the nearly inaudible sound of water, suited the Torchwood leader's mood tonight though. He walked over to the glass observation window of the main office, and automatically rested his eyes on Toshiko's computer station. Except it wasnt hers anymore.
Ever since the events involving Grey and his ex Time Agent associate, that station had hung empty and unused. He supposed he should find a replacement for her, but his heart just ached at the mere thought of someone - anyone - replacing the sweet and intelligent soul who had trusted him with her world, with her life.
And you let her down... whispered a tiny little voice in the back of his head. Her and Owen both.
He tried to divert his thinking - that way led madness, anger and probably several bottles of malt whisky downed in quick succession. Besides, he reminded himself, it is Christmas Eve after all.
Now his attention was diverted to the medium sized Christmas Tree that stood bizarrely in one corner - closest to where Owen wor- Jack shook his head. Nope. He wasnt going to do this to himself again, he thought resolutely. Nada. Nein. Absolutely, categorically not.
He thought instead of when Ianto and Gwen had first brought the tree inside the Hub, squeezing it past the Hub's coglike wheel which guarded the main entrance, with forced sloppy grins on their faces. They'd tried to get him to decorate it with them, but his only concession had been to put the Christmas Star on the top - the one Toshiko had shyly presented him with the year before. Happy memories.
Jack blinked back tears, lost in the too fresh grief of losing two of his team - two of his friends.
He never noticed the light in Owen's autopsy room begin to softly glow.
**********************************************************
In one of Cardiff Bay's finer restaurants, Gwen was trying to have a fun evening with her husband Rhys and a few friends from when she was a police constable. She laughed at the jokes, but the sadness was still in her eyes - he could tell her heart wasn't it. He drank down his current drink, and signaled for the bill.
"Who's for a nightcap then Eh? Eh?" Jim - having consumed six pints already, was ready to party on, but Rhys smiled and shook his head.
"Suzie best take you home I reckon! Streets aren't safe with the likes of you hanging around the bars!" He joked. Jim roared his approval at the implied innuendo, and almost fell out of his seat in the process.
Gwen mouthed a silent thank you at her partner, as he put her coat around her shoulders and offered her his arm.
"Don't be silly. Hardly expect you to be all singing an' dancing do I!" He said lightly, and she could see the concern shining in his eyes. She gave him a soft kiss on the lips in appreciation, as the two of them slipped away from where Suzie was politely disengaging Jim from a proposed fight with a man four times his size, and towards their home.
For a while they walked in silence, until Rhys' voice broke the silence, tentatively.
"How is he then? Captain Flashheart?" He asked - Captain Flasheart was a nickname Jack had earned partly for his swagger, and partly because Rhys happened to be a big fan of the Blackadder series.
Gwen sblack personed, and Rhys smiled properly.
“That’s better. Go on then. Off you go.” He gave her a nod towards the general direction of the Plaza.
“What?” She asked, not understanding. Had she upset him?
“Go see if Captain Flasheart is coping. But then straight back home, right!” He said mock sternly.
She flashed another smile at him, and headed for the Torchwood base before he could change his mind.
**********************************************************
Jack has decided to have a drink anyway, to hell with where it led. It was Christmas after all. He snorted. Another sodding Christmas alone. Still it beat that New Year’s Eve so many years back – the one where he’d lost his whole team. Two outta two, Jacky boy he thought bitterly. Why not try for the hat trick?
“You won’t find the answer in that.” The soft voice startled him, but he recovered in time to stop himself dropping the glass of whisky in his hand.
He slowly turned around. Toshiko Sato was standing directly behind him, smiling.
The sound of the glass hitting the stone floor was earthshattering.
“You’re – you’re not real. You can’t be.” He choked on the words, because deep down he really badly wanted it to be real, needed her to be real.”
“You’re right of course. My name is Sai Bwa’shlk of the Shalkira. And I come on a mission of great import.” The Toshiko lookalike spread her hands – eyes wide and pleading.
“Jack Harkness, Torchwood.”
“Yes we know of you. You are legendary Face of Boe” She spoke evenly, but there seemed to be the faintest of shimmer about her form, as if it could shatter into shards at any moment, like the glass.
“That’s what they used to call me.” Said Jack, misunderstanding. “ But you get to call me Captain Harkness for now.”
Sai nodded.
“The legends herald you as a great savior of peoples. My people are about to be eliminated, erased for all time by the Ariahac. You must help us. We must survive.”
Jack digested this slowly.
“Okay. I’m listening.” He said. And poured another glass.
Gwen was heading towards the main Hub area, when the light in Owen’s autopsy room attracted her attention. Figuring Jack was in there, probably beating himself up again, she approached and knocked on the doorframe.
“Knock knock! Welsh madwoman on the lo – “ She looked at the figure watching her approach impassively, her mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ of surprise. And then she fainted dead away to the floor.
For she had seen a ghost. The ghost of Owen Harper.
When Gwen recovered her senses she was lying on the autopsy room, and Owen was staring over her. Startled and immediately on guard, she rolled away from the apparition wishing she was armed.
“Who the hell are you!” She snapped.
“Who do I look like?” Came the sarcastic retort.
“You’re not Owen Harper! He’s dead. He’s gone. You’re just using his face! Stoppit!” She shouted, loud enough, she hoped, for Jack to hear her.
“Very well. I am Larako’sn of the Ariahac. And I have come to you for help. My people are under terrible threat.”
“Threat? Threat from what?” Asked Gwen, interested now.
Larako’sn pulled an Owen puppy dog expression.
“From the Shalkira.” He said simply.
And just like that, Gwen believed him. Well at first anyway.
**********************************************************
On another plane of existence, perhaps Heaven and perhaps not, another pair watched the events with interest and some concern.
“Do you think we should intervene?” Asked the woman, concernedly.
“Nah, they’re big enough and ugly enough to look after things. They’re Torchwood aren’t they?” The other was less concerned, more interested in learning where Jack had managed to find the hidden stash of vintage whisky.
“But what if they – you know – “ She hesitated, uncertain of the words.
“Balls it up? It’s a possibility innit. Lets just watch a while” He cautioned and she nodded once.
They returned their attention to the events transpiring below.
**********************************************************
Whilst Laroko’sn was telling Gwen all about the decimation, degradation and slavery of his people, Shia was telling Jack all about her people’s suffering at the hands of the Ariahac.
As time went on, and the stories lengthened out, both Jack and Gwen became aware that all was not as it seemed, even though each was in total ignorance of the other’s situation.
Finally Jack held up a hand to silence Shia.
“So what do you propose we do about this? If you can’t beat them, what makes you think mere Humans can?” He inquired, curious as to her answer.
“Our numbers are minimal, our hope and strength and resources depleted. We need more warriors, more fuels and weapons to continue our cause.” She leaned forward, giving him a classic Toshiko expression of righteous anger.
“We did not start this war but we must finish it!” She exclaimed, hands balled into fists.
“So it’s a war now? Minute ago it was extermination. A war implies both sides able to fight.” Said Jack, quietly. Looking her in the eye.
She looked away.
“You will not help us? You will leave the Shalkira to die.” It was a statement, not a question.
“You can’t ask these people to die for you, Shia. It’s not their fight” Said Jack without preamble.
“Then your people will die with us. For we have led the Ariahac to this world, and they will destroy it rather than allow the Shakira to form allies here.” She announced, with a triumphant smile on her lips
“You have no choice but to fight!”
In the autopsy room, Gwen was making the same conclusion as Jack had done with Laroko’sn.
“You don’t want help, you want a war machine, cannon fodder for your own cause. Leave Earth out of it!” She demanded of the alien Owen lookalike.
“Leave Earth alone or.. or…” She faltered unsure of what she could threaten that would deter the determination she saw in Owen – Laroko’sn’s eyes.
“Or what Gwen Cooper of Torchwood Three? What could you possibly do against one such as me? I had come here looking to reason, looking for allies against the Shalkira. Now I can see you will never help us.”
“That’s right mister!” Defiant now, Gwen backed up a step, as Laroko’sn followed.
“So you are a threat. And must therefore be eliminated.” He brought his hand up, and now Gwen could see a device sheathed in the underside.
“Oh…” The color drained from her face as the glow seemed to get brighter and brighter as if charging up. Ready to deliver a lethal blow no doubt.
Gwen closed her eyes tightly, and waited for the inevitable. Waited for death.
“You will fight for the Shakiran cause!” Screamed the double of Toshiko raising her hand.
“Erm just so you know I can’t die. Did your legends tell you that?” Asked Jack with a smug grin, as he took a step back.
“But your atoms can still be scattered, Immortal!” Her eyes flashing, the handheld device in her hand began to pulse with a green glow, getting steadily brighter.
Jack’s smug grin faded.
“Ah. Yeah. Didn’t think of that one.” He said, only half confident that he could survive the blast. What if he didn’t this time? Was this really the end of Jack Harkness?
Whoever first said 'Time was the great healer of all pain' had been talking out of his arse, decided Jack Harkness as he filed away a report on the latest addition to the Torchwood Weevil collection.
It was eerily silent, as he cast a glance around the Hub, alone with his thoughts and his demons.
The darkness and the nearly inaudible sound of water, suited the Torchwood leader's mood tonight though. He walked over to the glass observation window of the main office, and automatically rested his eyes on Toshiko's computer station. Except it wasnt hers anymore.
Ever since the events involving Grey and his ex Time Agent associate, that station had hung empty and unused. He supposed he should find a replacement for her, but his heart just ached at the mere thought of someone - anyone - replacing the sweet and intelligent soul who had trusted him with her world, with her life.
And you let her down... whispered a tiny little voice in the back of his head. Her and Owen both.
He tried to divert his thinking - that way led madness, anger and probably several bottles of malt whisky downed in quick succession. Besides, he reminded himself, it is Christmas Eve after all.
Now his attention was diverted to the medium sized Christmas Tree that stood bizarrely in one corner - closest to where Owen wor- Jack shook his head. Nope. He wasnt going to do this to himself again, he thought resolutely. Nada. Nein. Absolutely, categorically not.
He thought instead of when Ianto and Gwen had first brought the tree inside the Hub, squeezing it past the Hub's coglike wheel which guarded the main entrance, with forced sloppy grins on their faces. They'd tried to get him to decorate it with them, but his only concession had been to put the Christmas Star on the top - the one Toshiko had shyly presented him with the year before. Happy memories.
Jack blinked back tears, lost in the too fresh grief of losing two of his team - two of his friends.
He never noticed the light in Owen's autopsy room begin to softly glow.
**********************************************************
In one of Cardiff Bay's finer restaurants, Gwen was trying to have a fun evening with her husband Rhys and a few friends from when she was a police constable. She laughed at the jokes, but the sadness was still in her eyes - he could tell her heart wasn't it. He drank down his current drink, and signaled for the bill.
"Who's for a nightcap then Eh? Eh?" Jim - having consumed six pints already, was ready to party on, but Rhys smiled and shook his head.
"Suzie best take you home I reckon! Streets aren't safe with the likes of you hanging around the bars!" He joked. Jim roared his approval at the implied innuendo, and almost fell out of his seat in the process.
Gwen mouthed a silent thank you at her partner, as he put her coat around her shoulders and offered her his arm.
"Don't be silly. Hardly expect you to be all singing an' dancing do I!" He said lightly, and she could see the concern shining in his eyes. She gave him a soft kiss on the lips in appreciation, as the two of them slipped away from where Suzie was politely disengaging Jim from a proposed fight with a man four times his size, and towards their home.
For a while they walked in silence, until Rhys' voice broke the silence, tentatively.
"How is he then? Captain Flashheart?" He asked - Captain Flasheart was a nickname Jack had earned partly for his swagger, and partly because Rhys happened to be a big fan of the Blackadder series.
Gwen sblack personed, and Rhys smiled properly.
“That’s better. Go on then. Off you go.” He gave her a nod towards the general direction of the Plaza.
“What?” She asked, not understanding. Had she upset him?
“Go see if Captain Flasheart is coping. But then straight back home, right!” He said mock sternly.
She flashed another smile at him, and headed for the Torchwood base before he could change his mind.
**********************************************************
Jack has decided to have a drink anyway, to hell with where it led. It was Christmas after all. He snorted. Another sodding Christmas alone. Still it beat that New Year’s Eve so many years back – the one where he’d lost his whole team. Two outta two, Jacky boy he thought bitterly. Why not try for the hat trick?
“You won’t find the answer in that.” The soft voice startled him, but he recovered in time to stop himself dropping the glass of whisky in his hand.
He slowly turned around. Toshiko Sato was standing directly behind him, smiling.
The sound of the glass hitting the stone floor was earthshattering.
“You’re – you’re not real. You can’t be.” He choked on the words, because deep down he really badly wanted it to be real, needed her to be real.”
“You’re right of course. My name is Sai Bwa’shlk of the Shalkira. And I come on a mission of great import.” The Toshiko lookalike spread her hands – eyes wide and pleading.
“Jack Harkness, Torchwood.”
“Yes we know of you. You are legendary Face of Boe” She spoke evenly, but there seemed to be the faintest of shimmer about her form, as if it could shatter into shards at any moment, like the glass.
“That’s what they used to call me.” Said Jack, misunderstanding. “ But you get to call me Captain Harkness for now.”
Sai nodded.
“The legends herald you as a great savior of peoples. My people are about to be eliminated, erased for all time by the Ariahac. You must help us. We must survive.”
Jack digested this slowly.
“Okay. I’m listening.” He said. And poured another glass.
Gwen was heading towards the main Hub area, when the light in Owen’s autopsy room attracted her attention. Figuring Jack was in there, probably beating himself up again, she approached and knocked on the doorframe.
“Knock knock! Welsh madwoman on the lo – “ She looked at the figure watching her approach impassively, her mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ of surprise. And then she fainted dead away to the floor.
For she had seen a ghost. The ghost of Owen Harper.
When Gwen recovered her senses she was lying on the autopsy room, and Owen was staring over her. Startled and immediately on guard, she rolled away from the apparition wishing she was armed.
“Who the hell are you!” She snapped.
“Who do I look like?” Came the sarcastic retort.
“You’re not Owen Harper! He’s dead. He’s gone. You’re just using his face! Stoppit!” She shouted, loud enough, she hoped, for Jack to hear her.
“Very well. I am Larako’sn of the Ariahac. And I have come to you for help. My people are under terrible threat.”
“Threat? Threat from what?” Asked Gwen, interested now.
Larako’sn pulled an Owen puppy dog expression.
“From the Shalkira.” He said simply.
And just like that, Gwen believed him. Well at first anyway.
**********************************************************
On another plane of existence, perhaps Heaven and perhaps not, another pair watched the events with interest and some concern.
“Do you think we should intervene?” Asked the woman, concernedly.
“Nah, they’re big enough and ugly enough to look after things. They’re Torchwood aren’t they?” The other was less concerned, more interested in learning where Jack had managed to find the hidden stash of vintage whisky.
“But what if they – you know – “ She hesitated, uncertain of the words.
“Balls it up? It’s a possibility innit. Lets just watch a while” He cautioned and she nodded once.
They returned their attention to the events transpiring below.
**********************************************************
Whilst Laroko’sn was telling Gwen all about the decimation, degradation and slavery of his people, Shia was telling Jack all about her people’s suffering at the hands of the Ariahac.
As time went on, and the stories lengthened out, both Jack and Gwen became aware that all was not as it seemed, even though each was in total ignorance of the other’s situation.
Finally Jack held up a hand to silence Shia.
“So what do you propose we do about this? If you can’t beat them, what makes you think mere Humans can?” He inquired, curious as to her answer.
“Our numbers are minimal, our hope and strength and resources depleted. We need more warriors, more fuels and weapons to continue our cause.” She leaned forward, giving him a classic Toshiko expression of righteous anger.
“We did not start this war but we must finish it!” She exclaimed, hands balled into fists.
“So it’s a war now? Minute ago it was extermination. A war implies both sides able to fight.” Said Jack, quietly. Looking her in the eye.
She looked away.
“You will not help us? You will leave the Shalkira to die.” It was a statement, not a question.
“You can’t ask these people to die for you, Shia. It’s not their fight” Said Jack without preamble.
“Then your people will die with us. For we have led the Ariahac to this world, and they will destroy it rather than allow the Shakira to form allies here.” She announced, with a triumphant smile on her lips
“You have no choice but to fight!”
In the autopsy room, Gwen was making the same conclusion as Jack had done with Laroko’sn.
“You don’t want help, you want a war machine, cannon fodder for your own cause. Leave Earth out of it!” She demanded of the alien Owen lookalike.
“Leave Earth alone or.. or…” She faltered unsure of what she could threaten that would deter the determination she saw in Owen – Laroko’sn’s eyes.
“Or what Gwen Cooper of Torchwood Three? What could you possibly do against one such as me? I had come here looking to reason, looking for allies against the Shalkira. Now I can see you will never help us.”
“That’s right mister!” Defiant now, Gwen backed up a step, as Laroko’sn followed.
“So you are a threat. And must therefore be eliminated.” He brought his hand up, and now Gwen could see a device sheathed in the underside.
“Oh…” The color drained from her face as the glow seemed to get brighter and brighter as if charging up. Ready to deliver a lethal blow no doubt.
Gwen closed her eyes tightly, and waited for the inevitable. Waited for death.
“You will fight for the Shakiran cause!” Screamed the double of Toshiko raising her hand.
“Erm just so you know I can’t die. Did your legends tell you that?” Asked Jack with a smug grin, as he took a step back.
“But your atoms can still be scattered, Immortal!” Her eyes flashing, the handheld device in her hand began to pulse with a green glow, getting steadily brighter.
Jack’s smug grin faded.
“Ah. Yeah. Didn’t think of that one.” He said, only half confident that he could survive the blast. What if he didn’t this time? Was this really the end of Jack Harkness?