Torchwood Is Yours 8/12

[humantales]

Title: Torchwood Is Yours
Author: humantales
Beta: quean_of_swords
Artist: rotaryphones
Character: Captain Jack Harkness, OC's
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,753
Warnings: AU
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: When Jack lands over a hundred years past where he was aiming, he has some time to fill. Why not spend it baby-sitting the Rift?

Masterlist

1875

The scream had Jack sitting straight up in bed, fumbling for a weapon. He'd stopped leaving his gun loaded at night; Mattie was fascinated by it and didn't understand why he couldn't play with it. Then, Jack's brain caught up with him. "Mrs. Williams?" he asked.

"What's wrong?" Sarah asked, sounding terrified as she went looking for her dressing gown. "Did something come through the Rift?"

"What are you doing in his bed?" Mrs. Williams asked with a screech.

Before Sarah could really get going with the screaming match Jack could see coming, Jack held up his hand. Amazingly, both women and Mattie quieted. "Mrs. Williams," he asked through his teeth, "is there anyone in danger, physical danger? Is something on the rampage; has someone broken into the Warehouse?"

Her lips thin, Mrs. Williams said, "I woke and thought to check on Mattie. When I didn't find him, I came to tell you he'd gone missing. I didn't expect to see this kind of, of, of debauchery."

Closing his eyes, Jack reminded himself that Mrs. Williams wasn't a villain, wasn't even unkind. She was a product of her times. He finally thought his voice was under enough control to say, "Mattie, everything is all right. I want you to go back to sleep. We adults are going to have this discussion in the kitchen over tea like civilised people; you'll have to go back to sleep on your own."

"Like a big boy," Mattie said, his eyes huge. "What's deb—"

"Nothing you need to worry about," Jack said. "Mrs. Williams, since I don't want to do any more damage to your sensibilities than I already have, could you please leave the bedroom?" Before she could work up to her objection, he continued, "I don't wear pyjamas and I doubt you want to see me naked."

"I will meet you in the kitchen immediately!" she said. "I thought better of you than this." She whirled and didn't slam the door behind her, quite.

"That, that, that," Sarah said, breathing hard. "How dare she?" When Jack gave her a look, she sighed. "I know. Don't dawdle." She kissed Mattie's forehead and left the room.

Once the door was closed, Jack climbed out of bed and put on a vest and trousers and found a dressing gown to throw on over them. He leaned over and kissed Mattie. "Don't worry, we'll work things out."

Mattie's eyes were huge as he nodded.

Mrs. Williams already had the kettle on and she and Sarah were glaring at each other. When Jack walked in, she whirled. "You will explain yourself."

"I plan on it," Jack said, "but we will have this discussion like mature adults or you can find another position. Now, please sit down."

"Jack," Sarah said. She knew how difficult Mrs. Williams would have finding a new position, especially without Jack's recommendation.

Mrs. Williams's face had frozen and she sat stiffly, her posture otherwise perfect, in one of the chairs. Sarah and Jack sat down as well.

"You are aware of the fact that I'm not from around here," Jack said.

"The two most common theories are America and Heaven," she said stiffly. "I believed the first even before this."

Jack started to continue in the same line, but then stopped. "What did you see and what do you think was going on?"

"I saw you and Sarah in bed together, and you'd pulled Mattie into it," she said.

"What were we doing?" Jack kept his voice level.

"Sleeping," she said.

"Was there any reason to believe that anything other than sleeping had been happening? You have a pretty good sense of smell and I know you know what sex smells like."

Looking confused, Mrs. Williams said, "What else would you be doing in bed together? Maybe not tonight, but—"

"But never," Sarah said. "I offered when we first met, but Jack has never even looked at me that way. He still thinks I'm a child," she said with a bit of a grumble.

"Where I'm from," Jack said, "a child was never away from the physical touch of an adult family member from birth until they could walk. Then, until they reach puberty, they are kept in the presence of a family member unless there is a compelling reason not to be." He smiled. "Hard to play Hide-and-Seek if someone else can see you. One of the things I found most shocking when I left home was that that's considered unusual."

"How were you taught to be independent?" Mrs. Williams asked.

"Much the way children here are," Jack answered. "In fact, from what I was told, and some studies I read later, we B'shani tended to be more independent, and confident in it, at a younger age than children raised differently. It's easier to trust yourself when there's a safety net, and success breeds confidence."

"But, Sarah, you're from here, aren't you?" Mrs. Williams's posture had relaxed; she now looked more confused than angry.

"I am," Sarah said. She smiled at Jack. "When we met . . . Well, lucky for me, Jack decided I looked like a housekeeper." She laughed when Mrs. Williams sniffed. "Jack introduced me to the wonders of technology; since then I've not had time for much housekeeping. That first night, he only had the one bed, but he offered to share it, just to sleep. He got us our own beds the next day, but I've found it comforting to have someone else nearby." She smiled at Jack. "He's always been a perfect gentleman, except that he won't wear pyjamas."

"Get all tangled up in 'em," Jack muttered. "I'd been going mad; when I met Sarah and Mattie, it was the longest time I'd slept alone in my life. I was looking for a prostitute that was willing to spend the night." He grinned. "Got a bit more than I bargained for with this one."

"If it's not too impertinent," Mrs. Williams asked, "what about when Percy Morgan lived here?"

Sarah and Jack laughed. "Poor Percy," Sarah said. Jack was glad she was explaining; he still missed the younger man. "The first time he spent the night, he woke in the middle of the night with me telling him to budge over and Mattie between him and Jack. I still miss him," she said, sounding forlorn.

"He's in a better place," Mrs. Williams said, patting her arm. After a few moments of silence, she looked over at Jack. "B'shani? Is that in the South Seas? I've never heard of it."

"I never have either," Sarah said, looking interested.

"This doesn't leave this room," Jack said after thinking it over for a minute. "I don't talk much about where I'm from; I'm not trying to be mysterious. It could be dangerous."

"Stop that," Mrs. Williams said irritably. "How could it be dangerous?"

"I could cause a paradox, or damage the timelines," Jack said. He wondered, though, how he was supposed to live without changing anything. The thought of being a hermit no one knew about didn't appeal. "I'm from another planet, from the future."

"You're an alien?" Mrs. Williams and Sarah said over each other.

"No, I'm human," Jack said, ignoring the fact that it was only about 95 percent true. "The human race, well, people like Jules Verne are right. We do make it to the stars."

"And foreknowledge is dangerous," Mrs. Williams said. "But how can you run the Warehouse if that's the case?"

"First Contact doesn't happen for . . . a while yet," Jack answered. "I think that if I weren't doing it, someone else would be. Otherwise, I keep my mouth shut. I know what's coming, I even have some ideas on how to stop it, or make it better, but I can't. Wars . . ." Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "That's why I didn't join the military. It's the closest thing to what I was trained for, but—"

They were all quiet for a minute. Finally, Mrs. Williams broke the silence. "May I ask, Captain Harkness, why you've never propositioned me? You certainly flirt with just about everyone else."

"You've never given me a reason to believe you'd welcome it," Jack answered. He leaned back in his chair and gave her a good look. "Believe me, it's not because I don't find you attractive. Why, are you interested?"

She rolled her eyes as Sarah snorted. "I'm afraid you can't add me to your list of interested parties," Mrs. Williams said, but she was smiling. "May I take this to mean that when I don't find Mattie in his bed, he's likely to be in yours?"

"When I'm in mine, Mattie usually is as well," Jack admitted.

"Very well, then," she said. "Good night."

Once he'd stripped and climbed back into bed, Jack sighed in relief. With luck, there would be no more disturbances in the night.


"This filing thing is a splendid idea," Mrs. Williams said one afternoon as she filed the week's reports, Mattie playing happily in the basement nursery where she could watch them. "It's too bad there's not some way to direct the files to the right area."

"What about that thing you had me read about?" Sarah asked.

"Which one?" Jack asked warily. Sarah had taken to reading technical journals as if it were water and she dying of thirst, but she didn't always have enough scientific or mathematical background to accurately judge what she was reading. Artam tried, but she was continually shocked by the gaps in Sarah's knowledge.

"The analytical engine," Sarah answered. "The one Babbage designed, or something like it. I'll wager we could put something together that would direct where the files went." She looked down at the spaceship engine she was taking apart with Jack. "I'm not much help with this thing, but I have some ideas."

"God have mercy," Mrs. Williams muttered, but she was smiling as she walked away.

Later that afternoon, a police runner came by with a request to help with a "strange beastie that's causing trouble". Jack took Tom, Sarah and Ellie with him to investigate.

It was a Jotunn, a huge beast that had been named by the humans that had colonised its native planet. It had to have come through the Rift; no one in their right mind would transport one. They weren't sapient, they had nasty dispositions and they were always hungry. "A lot like a Hoix, then," Ellie said as Jack identified it.

"No, a Jotunn will fight if it can, even if there's food available," Jack said. "Be careful, they're not intelligent, but they are canny and they're dangerous."

Two hours later, Ellie finished bandaging Sarah's leg. "Thanks be to God for the alien technology we get," she said, stripping off her gloves. "Without it, she'd have lost the leg and, that high, she'd have been lucky to survive it."

"She'll be all right," Jack asked, and realised that he'd heard it in stereo. Looking over, he saw Tom blush.

"Barring anything unforeseen," Ellie said. "Susan, she'll be on liquids until I say so, no matter how much she complains."

Tom cleared his throat. "Captain, sir, I hate to say this," he started.

Jack rolled his head and glared. "Say it; it can't be any worse than what I'm thinking."

"No offence to the ladies, but we need another man, or more, here," Tom said. "I never would have believed it, but the ladies are as good as any man at everything else, but they just don't have the muscle. Sarah wouldn't have been hurt if she'd had more strength to hit it with."

Jack sighed. "You're right, Tom, but where do I go for someone like that?"

"You can't wait for someone to drop into our laps, like all of us did," Ellie said. "You have to go out looking."

Jack looked over at her. "You didn't fall into my lap," he said. Then he smiled. "I'm going to visit Evan. Send someone if you need me." He grabbed his coat and swept out of the Warehouse.

He couldn't, of course, just ask his question. First, he had to eat two bowls of Gwyneth's excellent fish stew, not something he'd ever argue over. Then, he had to admire the new babies, including their first great-grandchild. Jack shook his head over little Griffith Morgan; his grandparents were younger than Jack was. Finally, he was able to get to business. "I need more muscle," he told Evan bluntly. Tom and I just aren't enough; we nearly lost Sarah this time."

"Didn't you say once that you hadn't always been a law-abiding man?" Gwyneth said, setting a huge slice of cake in front of him.

"Don't know that I am now," Jack said. "I'd prefer not to hire someone who's on the run, but that's just because we do work with the police. Do you know someone?"

"Harry?" Evan asked. When Gwyneth nodded, Evan said, "Harry Pearse. He's not a bad lad, but he runs with a bad crowd. He's never been caught at anything, not yet. Can't even say I know he's done anything wrong."

"He's not a big man," Gwyneth said, "but he's stronger than you'd think and there's not many that have ever laid a hand on him in a fight. No one'll bet against him in a fight. Well, no one who knows him."

"Sounds like my kind of man," Jack said.

Three days later, when Sarah had finally talked her way far enough out of bed to work on her analytical engine, a man with a rat-like face showed up. "Morgan says you might have work," he said. He was a little shorter than average and not heavily built. With the way he held himself, though, Jack thought his appearance might be deceptive.

"Harry Pearsall?" Jack asked, holding out his hand.

"Pearse," the other man corrected. His handshake was firm, but stopped just shy of knuckle-breaking.

"Let's see what you're made of," Jack said. "Hey, Tom, are you up for a test fight?"

"Don't know no test fighting," Pearse said with a sneer. "I don't fight by no Marquess of Queensbury rules."

"Neither do we," Jack said, with his best shark's grin. He led Pearse to the area they used for weapon training; Tom following right after. "No trying to do permanent damage," he said. "This is to see how good you are; if you can't work with us, you're no good to us." Pearse nodded and they started fighting.

Ten minutes later, Jack called a stop. He was grateful he'd put limits on the fight; both he and Tom were hurting and Harry hadn't been touched. "So, Pearse," he said, as he dabbed at his lip with a towel. Then he glanced down. "Great; I'm going to be catching Hell; it's one of the good dishtowels."

"Is she good enough in bed?" Pearse asked, looking amused.

"No idea," Jack said, laughing while Tom looked horrified. "You haven't met Mrs. Williams yet; you'll understand once you have. Did Evan and Gwyneth explain what we do?"

"They didn't have to," Pearse said, with a smirk. Jack sighed as the other man continued, "You're the Captain that runs the Warehouse; you keep us safe from the uncanny things Cardiff attracts. By the way," his face turned serious, "anyone gives you a hard time, pass the word. It'll stop. We know what you do."

"It's supposed to be secret," Jack muttered, shaking his head. "The 'uncanny things'? They're aliens, beings from other worlds. Usually, at least. Some of them are friendly; you'll meet Artam later and we've got a little community out in Butetown. Some of them are deadly; that's what got Sarah. I'm looking for muscle; the work'll be dangerous. We do our best to minimise the danger, but it's there."

Pearse shrugged. "Been living on the edge since m'tad kicked me out. Reckon it's better with you; police back you up. I'm in."

By the time Sarah was allowed back on full active status, the analytical engine could direct files to the appropriate area as long as the person who put it in the tube typed in the right subject. Her next project was to find a way of retrieving those reports more effectively. Harry found her intensity over the project hysterical but, after being trapped in one of the cells for six hours, learned not to make fun where any of the others could hear.

1876