Archive of Our Own

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The Mystery We Are

*

Torchwood. Separate from the Government, outside the police, beyond the United Nations...Guardians of the Cardiff Rift, and protectors of humanity from the alien, the supernatural and the downright odd. A group of highly specialised and unusual people, all very busy doing…Nothing.

"It's got to be the weather." Owen lolled back in his chair, twisting his head to watch Toshiko as she wandered around, stretching her legs he presumed.

"What?" She stopped mid stride and stared at him.

"Keeping the bad guys away. The weather. It's too nice for them at the moment…" He grinned; Toshiko could not help but smile back at him.

"So you're trying to tell me that when it starts raining again, we'll have aliens and the usual weird things cropping up all over the place?"

"Something like that."

"Come off it, Owen. We're just having a quiet spell."

"Shhhh. Don't say the Q word!"

"Quiet. Quiet. Quiet."

"Tosh!"

"Look, I've got work to do even if you haven't." Toshiko made her way back to her own workstation, and pulled up the files she had been working on, becoming quickly engrossed.

"Tosh?"

"Hmmm?"

"Need a hand?" The offer of help was unexpected enough to get her attention again. She gave Owen another smile.

"You must be bored!" Owen quirked an eyebrow at her, and Toshiko stifled a giggle. "I'm sure I can find something for you to help with if you're desperate enough to ask." Owen scrambled out of his chair and dragged it over so he could sit next to Toshiko.

"So, what do you want me to do?"

They were still working closely together when the others came back, armed with pizza, with Gwen and Jack more than ready to offer a few choice remarks about Owen actually working for a change. Ianto remained silent, and Watched.

~*~

*Screeech*. The noise almost jolted Siannon out of her seat in surprise. She glared balefully at the peacock that appeared to be after the remains of her cream tea. Peacocks in Cardiff, not something you saw every day, unless you happened to be in the grounds of the castle of course. The bird soon lost interest in her and strutted off after a passing peahen. She breathed a sigh of relief, she'd come into the castle for a bit of peace and quiet, not expecting to be confronted by screeching peacocks. Siannon quickly finished her tea and made her way out of the castle back into the hustle and bustle of the city centre. Cardiff was busier than she'd expected, but then it had been about fifty years since she was last here, and the city had changed almost beyond recognition. She hoped she could enjoy getting to know the new city in peace, without unpleasant interruptions, now that the music festival that had brought her here had finished. It was probably an idle hope, but she clung to it ferociously. Cardiff was not Seacouver, there was no reason for another immortal to be in the city, and certainly no reason for one to be looking for her specifically. She would play the tourist, and enjoy herself. With that thought in mind, she headed for The Bay.

~*~

"Has it ever been like this before at Torchwood? I mean, it's all been so hectic since I arrived and then now - nothing. It's almost like the World is holding it's breath, or something is waiting…" Gwen had gone into Jack's office with some paper work, and now perched on his desk. The question was one she had wanted to ask for days, but really hadn't wanted any of the others to hear. Jack leaned back in his chair and turned his full attention to her.

"Now that is a good question…"

"And?"

"I don't have a good answer to go with it. Everything concrete tells me there is nothing to worry about, that this is just one of those times when things *aren't* so busy…"

"But?"

"It doesn't feel right. There have been times when the rift is quiet, and nothing new is discovered for a while, but I don't get that feeling right now. It's almost…" He paused, and shrugged helplessly.

"Like the calm before the storm?"

"Yeah."

"I wish the others felt like that, they've been accusing me of being as jumpy as a cat on a hot tin roof over nothing. Well, Tosh and Owen have. Ianto says I might have a point but I should enjoy not being rushed off my feet while I've got the chance, rather than looking for trouble."

"Sounds like good advice."

"It is good advice, but I can't help the way I *feel*…" Jack scrambled up out of his chair, gently laid his hands on Gwen's shoulders, and gave her a tiny shake.

"Don't dwell on it. Things will either happen or they won't, and neither you nor I nor anyone can do anything to change that. Now grab your bag, we're all going out." He gave her shoulder one last pat and strode out of the office, yelling at the others to call it a day, and come on out.

~*~

Siannon tilted her head back, feeling the warmth of the sunshine on her face. It had been a good week, but she knew she had to start thinking about getting back to her normal life. Still, there was time to enjoy the sun and the peace of the cathedral precincts. Holy Ground always had a special feeling, particularly when it had been used as such for as long as this old cathedral had been. She relaxed into her seat, felt her eyes drift shut and let that feeling permeate through her, almost as if it were cleansing her. Gradually she became aware of another feeling, a tingling on the edge of her mind, which slowly became a more recognisable buzz. In an instant she was not relaxed, but ready, although she had not changed her position at all, and her eyes darted round, to see if she could identify the source of the ever-strengthening buzz of another immortal approaching and discover if it was friend or foe. She didn't get a clear look at the other immortal until he sat beside her, but that look told her she didn't recognise him which meant one thing; head-hunter. He passed her a slip of paper, and spoke without once trying to make eye-contact.

"You will be at this address tonight."

"And if I'm not?"

"Then you will know no rest, for I will not stop hunting."

"Tonight, then," she agreed. With a curt nod, the unknown immortal departed as quickly as he had arrived. Siannon sighed; it was times like this that she missed the contact she used to have with the Watchers in Seacouver, or more accurately Joe Dawson. Back there, she would have been able to find out who the guy was, how old he was, how many heads he'd taken and what level of skill he had. Now she was alone, and had to rely on herself. Once again, she found herself wishing she'd been a bit more persuasive in getting Joe to grant her access to the Watcher database. She shook her head as if to clear it, she knew following that path would do her no good, dwelling on regrets never did. She was here, that other immortal was here, and by tonight one of them wouldn't be. She glanced down at the paper, which showed the address of a warehouse in the more rundown dock area, a time and the word 'alone' in block capitals. She chuckled softly; empty warehouses seemed to attract immortals like flies…

Although it was dark by the time she arrived at their appointed meeting place, the night was clear, so the moon shone brightly, or as brightly as it ever did somewhere as well lit as a city. She slowly entered the warehouse, sword in hand, while carefully removing her coat as she did not want to be encumbered by the extra material. The emergency lights were already switched on, and as she approached she felt the buzz of another immortal, which meant he was already here, just hiding in one of the more shadowed corners. She moved into the centre of the open space, the sound of her footsteps echoing weirdly in the emptiness and waited in full view, at ease, but ready to move in an instant. She heard him before she saw him, as he slowly moved into the light, his own sword held in a relaxed and competent grip.

"Ryan Kendrick."

"Siannon O'Niall."

They circled each other slowly, sizing each other up. He was about 6 feet tall, with messy dark blonde hair and blue eyes, dressed in jeans, t-shirt and boots; his sword, unlike hers, was a katana. That meant he had a greater reach than she did, but Siannon had not arrived at 1500 years of age without learning a few tricks. She wore the same 'uniform' of jeans, t-shirt and boots as him, though hers were darker than his and accentuated her femininity in a subtle fashion. Her long dark hair was tied back out of the way, though the odd curling tendril had escaped to soften her face.

"You have nerve, Siannon O'Niall."

"And you have gall, Ryan Kendrick. I have never done anything to you or yours, so why this?" she gestured loosely with her free hand. He smiled coldly at her.

"Because it is what I do." Then there was no more talk then as he moved in for the attack, to find Siannon more than ready for him.

~*~

It had been a pleasant night, and now they went their separate ways; Gwen back to Rhys, Owen and Toshiko back to their own places too. Jack and Ianto walked across Roald Dahl Plass in the harmony of good companionship.

"You don't need to come back, Ianto."

"I have a few loose ends to tie up, sir." Jack made no further comment but did cast a sidelong glance at Ianto, before giving himself a shake and resolutely staring at his feet for a while. He only realised that Ianto was no longer beside him when he heard a whispered,

"Oh my God…" Jack whirled round to look at Ianto, then turned again to stare at what had caught his attention.

Lightning blazed down from the clear night sky, stream after stream of it. Jack was running for the SUV before he'd even had time to think, Ianto pelting after him.

"Looks like the Vacation is over." By the time the SUV was moving, Owen and Toshiko had arrived, both having seen the strange lightning. There was no sign of Gwen. They'd just pulled onto the main road when the lightning stopped, as suddenly as it had begun. Ianto put his foot down and the SUV sped away.

"It appeared to be focused on the other side of the docks," he said as he drove them in that direction. A few minutes later, he pulled the SUV over. The surrounding area seemed to be pretty much deserted.

"So where do we start?" Owen asked. Ianto and Jack both seemed to be lost in thought and did not answer immediately. Toshiko dug out her handheld, and studied it for a few seconds, tapping in a few commands.

"There are some unused warehouses in this direction; that would seem as good a place as any." In an unspoken agreement they moved off together.

"Wonder what we'll find?" Owen pondered.

"No idea, that's why we're looking," Jack answered, he was glad to be out and *doing* again, it made him a lot more comfortable.

"It probably won't be what you're expecting, you know." Ianto commented softly. Only Toshiko heard him.

"And you know what to expect?" She murmured to him. He glanced down at her, a worried frown creasing his brow.

"Maybe I do…" When no further explanation was forthcoming, Toshiko decided Ianto was just trying to be enigmatic and jogged to catch up with the others as they approached the first warehouse.

The lights had been on, but most of them seemed to have blown out, as if a violent storm had passed through the building, and glass crunched underfoot. Jack and Toshiko produced torches, and slowly began to search the area.

It was Owen who discovered the body, by simply tripping over it.

"Jack, Tosh. Over here!" Owen had already crouched beside the inert form to check a pulse, and found none. The reason became clear when the light came closer and shone in the eyes of the decapitated head lying a few feet away. "Well, I think that makes the cause of death fairly obvious." He pulled out a pair of surgical gloves and began to examine the body, while Jack held the light steady for him. Ianto and Toshiko continued the search, Ianto now being the torchbearer so Toshiko could check her scanners.

"There seems to have been a massive influx of energy round here, centred on that body." They both glanced in that direction.

"Could have been an outpouring of energy, rather than an influx."

"Possibly." A flash of light on the floor caught her eye. "There's something over there." They both made their way over to the item that twinkled dully in the torchlight, until it revealed itself as a sword. "What the hell is a Japanese Katana doing in a Cardiff warehouse?" she mused. Ianto cleared his throat and nodded toward the body.

"I would have thought that was obvious."

"But Why? Never mind, there's not an answer for that yet." Toshiko wrapped the sword in plastic and picked it up, before heading back over to Owen and Jack. "I think we've found your murder weapon," she said, displaying the sword so the two men could see it. Owen sat back on his heels.

"Let's take this poor sod back to the hub, I need to have a closer look. Something just isn't right here." Toshiko was curious.

"In what way?"

"There isn't enough blood for one thing; it's almost as if the death wound was cauterised just as it occurred." Owen scrambled to his feet, and began to make his way out of the warehouse. "I'm not going to find out any more here." Wrapping the sword more tightly in its plastic cover, Toshiko followed him. Jack remained staring at the headless corpse for a few more seconds.

"Owen's right. We aren't getting the full story here. And I'm damned if I know what is missing." He turned on his heel, and strode out after Owen and Toshiko, leaving Ianto alone with the body.

"Who were you?" Ianto asked the silent flesh. "And who took your quickening?" He knew there was no chance in ever finding out the answer to the second question, but if he was very lucky he might be able to find the answer to the first. He rubbed his left wrist absently as he waited for the SUV to arrive.

Back at The Hub, Ianto retreated to his office upstairs after making sure everyone had coffee. He didn't want anyone looking over his shoulder while he tried to gain access to a database he did not have the right to, and was fairly sure that none of the others were aware of. He had to try, he needed to be armed if his old life decided to come back and haunt him. It took some time, but finally he managed it, ironically through a back door in the security system that he had helped program when he was a bright young thing, almost fresh out of school; before Torchwood, and Lisa, had changed him forever. He stared at the familiar bird-like logo on the screen in front of him, and began his search, being very careful to cover his tracks as he went.

Jack wandered down to the autopsy room, and watched Owen working for a while as he leant on the rail.

"Anything?"

"Well apart from the obvious cause of death, nothing much makes sense. We're going to have to wait for the metal analysis to come back, but I have the feeling that the sword we found is not the one that decapitated him or caused these wounds. The katana is curved, but by the pattern of the wounds I can pretty much be certain that the sword that caused them wasn't curved. The other odd thing is that the wounds are partially healed, as if they'd been made some time ago, not just hours ago. And before you ask, yes I'm fairly confident that they were inflicted by the same weapon." Owen moved away from the slab and looked up at Jack. There was no trace of flippancy in his gaze for a change.
"There's a distinct possibility we have a sword-wielding maniac wandering the streets of Cardiff. What are we going to do about it?"

"Find them. If we can. Tosh hasn't come up with anything to identify this guy yet, so we haven't been able to try that angle. Still, she's working on it." Jack sighed. "I suppose we ought to finish up here for now, there's nothing that can't wait 'til later." He started to head back to his office, only to find Ianto and Toshiko heading in the same direction. Ianto had some papers in his hand.

"I've been able to provisionally ID our corpse, sir. Ryan Kendrick, collector of antique weaponry. No confirmation of age, no known address. He did have an online business however." Jack glanced at Toshiko. She shrugged.

"He's not in any of the police databases and his fingerprints aren't on file either. We just seem to have hit a dead end. Unless Gwen can access some of the police records that I haven't been able to," the tone of Toshiko's voice indicated that she thought this very unlikely, "I can't think where else to look."

"That's a damn sight more information that we had a couple of hours ago." He clapped Ianto and Toshiko on the shoulder. "Now get out of here."

~*~

The next morning Gwen arrived bright and early, to find that Owen already at his work station.

"You're chirpy this morning," he observed. She grinned at him.

"I had a good night."

"I'm glad you did." Owen did not sound glad at all. Gwen took an unconscious step backward, and looked at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Take a look in the autopsy room; I'm sure Jack will fill you in on the details after that." Concerned, Gwen dumped her bag and went as quickly as she could without running to the autopsy room balcony. She looked at the headless corpse for all of 3 seconds before rushing to Jack's office.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here last night." Jack smiled up at her.

"We could have called you. I felt it was important that we didn't, and by the look of you this morning I was right. This is what we've got so far…" By the time he'd finished explaining the events of the previous night, the others had arrived and Ianto was working his coffee magic. Gwen went into a huddle with Toshiko to find out if the combination of the two of them could garner any more information than had been gained the night before, and Owen went back to see if the metal analysis was ready. After collecting the used coffee cups, Ianto was all set to follow them out of the office, he'd almost reached the door before he heard Jack call him.

"Ianto!" Ianto turned, heart in his mouth. He just *knew* what Jack was going to ask him. Still, he'd managed to keep Lisa a secret for a long time before anyone found out so he was hopeful he could ride this one out too. "Where did you manage to get that information about our body when Tosh drew a blank?" Ianto took a deep breath, he'd been right.

"Through contacts I made when I was with Torchwood 1, sir. I'm afraid I can't give details, but I can guarantee there's been no security breach…" he swallowed, "this time." Ianto turned to leave, unable to meet Jack's eyes. Jack knew as well as he did what he was referring to.

"Will you be able to use them again?" Ianto cast a surprised glance back over his shoulder at the older man. That was the *last* thing he'd expected Jack to ask.

"I should think so."

"Good. Wouldn't want to waste a possible resource."

"Of course not." With that, Ianto made good his escape, and didn't notice Jack's speculative gaze following him across the hub. A few minutes later, Jack followed him out of the office.

"I don't believe it!" Owen shoved himself away from his workstation. "Jack, you've got to see this." He leaned over to grab some papers off the printer as Jack headed toward him.

"What have you got?"

"The sword that was used on our friend in there." Owen nodded in the direction of the autopsy room. "It's meteoric. And more importantly, it's impossible."

"Impossible?"

"Well, merely improbable I suppose. The sword is about 1000 years old going by the analysis, but there are indications that the way it was worked date from much earlier than that. Unfortunately, we just don't have a big enough sample to confirm that, unless we manage to find that sword. And if we do that…"

"Then we'll probably have found the owner."

"We've found something too," Gwen announced from Toshiko's work station. "But it's rather odd." Jack and Own both moved closer. "We found a photo of him; it even verifies the name…"

"But?"

"It's Victorian." Jack took a closer look at the screen.

"Definitely looks like our friend though. Maybe a relative?"

"That's the rational explanation." Gwen commented. Jack straightened, and leant against the edge of the desk,

"And you think?"

"I don't know what to think. But I feel it's the same guy, strange as it seems." Owen, who had been peering closely at the picture on the screen, looked back at Gwen.

"Funnily enough, so do I." Toshiko and Gwen gave him almost identical puzzled expressions. Owen sighed. "No, I don't have a rational explanation; it's just a gut feeling. I do have them occasionally you know." He shrugged, and returned to his own workstation.

The rest of the day passed without incident, but also without any further leads on either the headless man or his killer. No-one suggested they go out after they'd finished for the day.

The good weather continued, and so did the lack of anything remotely supernatural or alien appearing in Cardiff. The unsolved mystery of the headless man was pushed to the back of everyone's mind as they dealt with the more mundane aspects of their jobs, or as mundane as anything ever became in Torchwood.

The weather broke after another 4 days, with a rainstorm that swept in from the bay and blew over in a matter of hours, leaving the air cool and damp; perfect weevil weather. They all stayed late that night.

~*~

Sports bag in hand, Siannon left the half-lit gym. In typical immortal fashion, she'd been able to find the friend of a friend who was willing to help, in this case give her somewhere to practise her blade-work. Rationally she knew she should have left Cardiff as soon as she'd taken Kendrick's head, but something kept her from leaving, a feeling that there was more to the city than met the eye, that something was going to leap out of the underbelly of the place, and soon. Never one to discount gut feelings, Siannon stayed, and because of that feeling it was essential to her to stay fighting fit. Her relationship with David Wong, the owner of the gym, had begun out of necessity but she had grown to like the martial arts master in the short time she'd known him, and they'd learned from each other. More importantly he was happy to let her use the place after hours as he lived in the flat above. That in itself had been a source of amusement; she'd gone halfway round the world and hadn't seen them for years, yet things still reminded her of her Seacouver friends. She was walking through the damp and darkened streets when she saw something moving out of the corner of her eye. She began to follow, but caught only glimpses of whoever it was as they ran through the back streets. After some time, the figure seemed to have vanished, so she gave up the search and headed back to where she was staying, wondering why someone would be running around the back streets of Cardiff city centre wearing a mask that wouldn't look out of place at Halloween. Suddenly a figure burst out from an alleyway, just a few feet in front of her. She only had a split second to realise that those teeth weren't part of any mask, that this thing was *real* as it leapt at her, snarling. The bag was thrown to one side as she drew her sword, ready to defend herself. The creature had no weapon apart from its ferocious teeth and claws, but Siannon did not want to find out the hard way if you could be beheaded with a bite. There was no time for finesse or classy moves; she lopped off the reaching hand first, and then ran the creature through, approximately where the heart would have been in a human, following that up with a 'gut' stab to be sure. The creature did not appear to moving any more, so she assumed it was dead. It was only then that she realised she was covered in the most foul-smelling stuff imaginable. She grabbed her bag, and left as quickly as she could without running.

The next night she had another encounter; and the night after that. The third day after she'd killed the first one, Siannon cancelled her gym session and decided to go hunting in the evening instead. She wanted to know where these things were coming from, and why no-one else seemed to be aware that there were living and breathing monsters on the streets of Cardiff.

~*~

"We've got another dead one." Owen reported back to the hub as he gingerly poked at the lifeless weevil with his toe. "Sword wounds, again. Bit cleaner this time though, almost as if whoever is doing this is discovering how to be more efficient. Can't tell if it's the same weapon without doing further checks, but I wouldn't be surprised. Anything on the CCTV?"

"Nothing." Toshiko sounded frustrated. Owen sighed, and glanced a quick question at Gwen, who shook her head.

"No sign of anything round here either, apart from the dead weevil. Whoever is doing this knows how to fade into the background. Nothing we can do now, except clean up."

Back at the hub, the team gathered in the boardroom to brainstorm. Jack was pacing, the others sat around the table, but none of them were any happier than Jack. He finally stopped pacing, and turned round to face them.

"We've 3 dead weevils in as many days, have any of you got anything to offer. Anything at all, no matter how stupid it seems?" He looked at each one of them as he asked his question, but no-one met his eyes. Except Ianto.

"We can try and get to the next weevil before she does."

"She?!" Owen voiced the incredulity that most of them felt. Jack strode to the table, to his usual position and leaned on his hands, staring at Ianto. In a silent answer Ianto pushed the picture he'd been carrying across the table, toward him. Jack picked up the picture and studied it for a while before placing it back. The image was fuzzy and dark, but it showed a long haired, vaguely female looking figure in a long dark coat and boots. He sat down, and cast a glance round the others once more.

"She. It's not clear, and unfortunately the CCTV didn't get her face, but it's definitely a woman." His gaze came to rest on Ianto. "When did you get this?"

"Tonight, after Owen called in. I had a feeling that we were missing something, but that's all I could find. The interesting thing, is that there's a martial arts studio not far from the area where we've found all the dead weevils."

"We'd best keep an eye on the place, then." Jack took a deep breath, at last he felt like they were possibly getting somewhere. "Anything else?" Owen looked up and finally met Jack's eyes.

"The sword used on all the weevils is the same as the one that beheaded Ryan Kendrick, so at least it looks like we've only got one sword-wielding maniac on our hands instead of a whole army."

"Whoever she is, she's become number 1 on the Torchwood Agenda." Jack's voice was icy. "We can't allow this to continue."

As the others filed out of the boardroom, Ianto lingered, watching Jack across the expanse of the table. They both listened to Owen suggesting that they get 'Save the Weevil' badges made, followed by a muffled thump. Jack grinned.

"So who hit him, Gwen or Tosh?" Ianto smiled back.

"Gwen. Tosh would have just glared."

"I guess. So…" Jack walked round the table, to perch on the edge next to Ianto. "Have your… contacts… managed to come up with anything?"

"I'm afraid not, sir. If I'd had a face shot, I could possibly have obtained an id, but from what we've got there are too many possibilities."

"Pity. Thanks for trying though." Jack gave Ianto's shoulder a quick squeeze before heading out of the boardroom, leaving Ianto to follow him.

~*~

Hunting monsters in Cardiff was not as easy as Siannon had expected it to be. She was sure she had glimpsed them on at least 2 occasions, but when she narrowed her search, there had been nothing. It was almost as if they had disappeared… or been captured by another monster-hunter. She chuckled to herself; the thought of monster-hunters in Cardiff was even more ridiculous than the monsters themselves. Suddenly, there was a movement in her peripheral vision, one that had come to recognise over the last few days. She set off in quiet pursuit.

~*~

"I hope that's the last one." Gwen sank down into the sofa, gratefully accepting a coffee from Ianto. "Three Weevils in one night is more than enough for me."

"And no sign of our sword-wielding maniac either. Tough night." Owen settled next to her. "Still, I don't think we've ever had more than 3 weevils in a night. Ianto?"

"Not that I can remember." Ianto shrugged. "Still there's a first time for everything."

"God, you're cheerful aren't you?"

"Just suspicious." Ianto sensed a fair bit of tension; luckily he knew exactly how to defuse it. "Anyone want a refill?"

~*~

Jack alone had remained out on the streets. He knew how tired the team were after their busy night, and he was more than confident he could handle a weevil on his own if another one should appear. Plus, he'd had a feeling and 51st century boy or not, he never ignored a gut feeling; he didn't always act on them, but they were definitely not ignored. Alert, he prowled the streets of Cardiff waiting for whatever the night had to throw at him, be it another weevil, a strange sword-wielding woman or nothing. As luck would have it, he saw the woman first. Carefully he withdrew further into the shadows to make his initial evaluation. She was fairly tall, probably 4 or 5 inches shorter than him and moved with the loose-limbed grace he'd come to associate with fighters and dancers. The clothes were similar to what she'd been wearing on the CCTV footage; long dark coat (leather, he thought, but couldn't be sure), dark coloured jeans, dark top and flat boots. She was striking, rather than classically pretty but it was still the sort of face he could appreciate. He let her pass his hiding place, before detaching himself from the wall where he had been leaning and following her. Almost immediately, she whirled round, the sword appearing in her hand as if by magic. He noted her grip was one that could be changed very quickly, for all she was holding the sword in a non-combative posture. He stopped a few feet away, judging himself to be out of her immediate reach, and smiled.

"Nice sword." He commented, nodding at said weapon. Her eyes, he noted, were green, and while the expression in them wasn't exactly hostile, it certainly wasn't welcoming. "You looking for someone? Maybe I can help…" The sword disappeared back into the dark folds of her coat; he couldn't even see the line of it. She looked at him appraisingly, and then relaxed. He breathed a quick sigh of relief.

"Now why should you think you could help me?" she asked, there was a soft burr to her voice, a hint of underlying accent though he couldn't quite place it.

"Let's just say I know what you've been doing with that sword the last 3 nights. And I'm really curious as to why…" He didn't expect the quick bark of laughter she let out.

"Why? For Goodness sake, when something straight out of a nightmare looks like it wants to bite my head off, what the fuck am I going to do? Give it a cup of tea?" Jack had to smile at the thought of a weevil sharing a cup of tea with anyone, never mind this oh so dangerous woman.

"They prefer tomato juice, as long as it's not chilled." She gaped at him.

"What? You actually *know* about those things?"

"We call them weevils, and we usually prefer to capture them and contain them rather than going around murdering them." Jack folded his arms and glared at her coldly. He was prepared to accept she had been acting in self defence, but he still wasn't happy with the situation. After all, that sword was perfectly capable of killing man as well as weevil; Ryan Kendrick could testify to that.

"We?"

"The organisation I work for. Torchwood." He wasn't sure if that was a flicker of recognition in her eyes, or incomprehension. Or both.

"Torchwood." She said the name slowly, almost as if she was savouring it. "The name rings a bell, but I can't place it." She took a step back, and seemed to come to some decision. "Look, are we going to stand here all night and blather, or shall we go somewhere more comfortable… and public?" Jack grinned, he found himself liking this strange woman.

"Sounds like a good idea. I know I would like to find out a little bit more just why there's a good looking woman prowling the streets of Cardiff with a sword. In return, I'll tell you about weevils."

"Fine." Suiting word to action she strode away, back into the town centre. She was more trusting than him; he would never have turned his back on a stranger that he presumed was armed. Mulling this over he didn't realise how much he had relaxed his own watchfulness until a weevil appeared almost on top of him. For an instant they were both as surprised as each other, but the weevil recovered first, and leapt for his throat.

"Shit!" he was vaguely aware of running footsteps as he struggled to keep the weevil away from his neck and get the anti-weevil spray from his pocket at the same time. The weevil's breath was hot and foul in his face as they grappled for control. He knew he'd lost as the spray slipped from his hand and he heard the unknown woman scream inarticulately while the weevil sank its teeth into his neck.

Siannon felt like she was moving through treacle, she knew she wasn't going to get to the man in time to save him from a bloody death. She also knew that it was the weevil's last meal as she raised her sword for the kill, kicking the body out of the weevil's greedy clutches to clear her path, peripherally she was aware of it hitting the ground, but she was no longer paying attention. The weevil turned on her, but she was ready and the head left its shoulders before it came a step closer. Quickly she made her way to where the unknown man was pumping his life blood onto the damp tarmac. She stopped. Stared. His chest was no longer moving, and his skin had the waxy greyness of the dead, but for all there was bright arterial blood on his clothes and all over the street, there was no more flowing to join the red pool that had already collected. She crouched beside him, gingerly wiping the blood away from his neck. She'd been a doctor in the past; she knew what sort of wound there should be. She was also immortal, and recognised immortal healing when she saw it. The wound was still open, red raw and angry looking, but there was no bleeding. She stepped back and wiped her hands on the dead weevil before settling in to wait.

~*~

The first thing Jack became aware of was the ground; it was cold, and hard, and wet. The next was the fact that his lungs were burning. He gasped for breath.

"Welcome back." The unexpected voice cut through what remained of his post-revival fog. He sat up.

"What…?" his voice sounded hoarse in his ears.

"Am I doing here? Thought that might be obvious. I was waiting for you to wake up of course." Siannon wandered over to Jack and offered him a hand. He took it, and she heaved him to his feet, then stepped back. "You need to get changed or you're going to frighten someone. And you still have some explaining to do." Jack felt somewhat annoyed by her matter-of-fact attitude.

"*I* have some explaining to do? Just who the hell do you think you are?"

"Oh, so we're onto introductions now, are we?" She said, with a smile that made her green eyes shine. "I'm Siannon O'Niall. And you, mister, are impossible."

"Impossible?"

"Ok, maybe just highly unlikely. I want to show you something." She reached into her coat and brought out a dagger rather than her sword. "Watch." With no further warning she sliced her hand open, almost to the bone, flinching as the pain hit her. Jack began to move. She shook her head. "Wait," she said curtly. She held her hand out, watching the blood drip onto the road. She bent down and wiped the gash, and the dagger, on the dead weevil's clothing. Jack stared, fascinated as the wound closed before his eyes. He could have sworn that he saw minute tendrils of lightning flickering on the closing edges, but it was healed before he could be certain. She pocketed the dagger again and smiled gently at him. "You aren't the only one who's immortal." Jack was not able to identify the surge of emotion he felt at those words. Was it relief, incredulity, hope or something else entirely? He decided to think about it later.

"I see. But if you are and I am, then why am I impossible and you aren't?"

"Now that's where the explaining comes in, but I'd rather not do it in the middle of the street, and I don't think you're fit for company anymore." She grinned at him mischievously. "My place or yours?"

"Mine. But I need to make a call first," he tapped his headset to clarify.

Siannon moved out of earshot to let him make the call. She was glad of the time, as it enabled her to run over a few things in her head; like why the guy had no detectable quickening. At first she had thought he was a new immortal, but when he awoke, he had been so obviously unsurprised to find himself healed that she had to assume it was not the first time it had happened. In which case, he was either very old and could mask his quickening or he was not an immortal in the same way as her. She was tending to think the latter might just be true, as there had not even been a flicker of a sensed and smothered quickening when he was recovering from that fatal bite, and she was experienced enough to know what she was looking for. That gave her some cause for alarm, and she hoped that it was one of the things that he would explain. She didn't even know his name.

His call finished, he approached her with a smile on his face.

"Clean-up crew is organised, so we can head back now. We're both expected. I'm Captain Jack Harkness by the way." He held out a hand. She was surprised by the formality, but took the proffered hand anyway. His grip was firm but not overly harsh; he had nice hands she decided even if they did dwarf her own. One thing she had hoped the handshake would produce was some sense of quickening from him, but it hadn't and so she was even more curious about him.

"Pleased to meet you, I'm sure." She almost had the desire to bob a curtsey at him, for some reason. She smiled instead. He smiled back.

"The pleasure is mine. Now, let's get out of here." He led the way, heading back to the Hub.

They walked in silence for a while, through the damp and dark, each of them mulling over their own thoughts. It was Jack who first broke the silence.

"Siannon, can I ask you something rather personal?" Neither of them stopped walking, but she looked up at him quizzically.

"You can ask, but I won't guarantee an answer." A half smile flitted across Jack's face at her answer.

"How old are you?" Siannon chuckled softly; she'd half been expecting something along those lines

"You weren't kidding about it being a personal question were you? I'm about 1500 years old, give or take 50 years. I wasn't really keeping track when I was younger."

"You've been around for a while then."

"Just a bit." The silence fell between them again, though Siannon just knew there was another question brewing; the one he really wanted the answer to.

"Does it ever get easier?" This time she did stop, and searched Jack's face for the grief and loss she knew she would find. A grief and loss she herself had experienced time and time again. She took his hand, and traced the lifeline on his palm, before looking deeply into his eyes.

"Do you want the honest answer?" He nodded mutely. She took a deep breath. "No, it doesn't. Or it hasn't for me, anyway. What does get easier is learning to live with the pain. Every loss hurts, every life that touches you leaves its mark and you just learn to love them, and pack each precious memory in your internal keepsake box. As long as you remember them, they live on. But there's nothing that can take away the pain of watching them grow old and leave you behind." She let his hand fall. "I'm sorry."

"It's Ok." Shoving his hands in his pockets he strode away. Siannon shook her head slightly before following. People always hoped for an easy answer, even when they knew there couldn't be one.

~*~

Ianto stared at the computer, scrolling through screen upon screen of information. Given a name to work with, there had been no problem in finding out about their weevil killer. What he hadn't expected was the sheer amount of data. Siannon O'Niall had been around a very long time, and had been active for most of her 1500 years. There were gaps, as was only to be expected, but her past life was remarkably well documented. Her present life was not, which was another thing that was puzzling him. For some reason she had dropped off the radar after suddenly leaving Seacouver nearly 10 years ago. There were terse mentions that she was still alive every so often, and the odd report of a head taken here and there, but those reports were made by those who dealt with the immortals that crossed her path, not someone connected with her. Somebody with influence had decided Siannon O'Niall was no longer to be actively Watched. Ianto wondered if he had any chance of finding out who had passed that order, and what their reaction might be if they found a detailed account of her recent movements suddenly appearing on their database. He smiled, and rubbed at the unseen scar on his left wrist. Siannon O'Niall was not the only one who had disappeared from under the eyes of the Watchers after all. He printed off some basic information, and shut down the computer. He felt the need for a very strong cup or three of coffee.

Down in the hub he discovered that his printouts were unlikely to be needed; the lift was descending and on it was Jack and the woman in the pictures that he had in his hand. He folded the papers, depositing them in an inside pocket from where they could be produced if needed. It was only then he noticed the blood all over Jack's shirt and coat, and barely concealed his gasp of horror. He rushed to meet them off the lift, his worry written in his face even though he tried to hide it.

"It looks worse than it is, Ianto. Really." Jack's smile was infectious, Ianto smiled back at him, and indicated Jack's companion with his eyes. Jack stepped off the lift, holding out a guiding hand to Siannon. "Ianto, meet Siannon O'Niall. She's responsible for the accidents the weevils have been meeting with recently." Ianto cast a quick glance over her; she was not really paying attention to him or Jack as she stared around at the hub.

"And Ryan Kendrick?" He queried. If he'd wanted to grab her attention he could not have asked for a quicker response, she was now staring at him, green eyes spitting fire.

"Ryan Kendrick has nothing to do with this," she hissed as she glared at Ianto. They held each others gaze until a polite cough from Jack disturbed them.

"I'm afraid he does, or he does until he isn't in our morgue anymore."

"What?!" She stopped glaring at Ianto and started glaring at Jack instead. "You said you were going to explain; I think now would be a good time to start, don't you?"

"Why not. If you'll just come with me, we can do it in a bit more privacy." He glanced at Ianto "With Coffee. Please..." Ianto nodded his acknowledgement, and made his way to the kitchenette, leaving Jack and Siannon to make their way to Jack's office. While Ianto was making the coffee, he noticed that Jack had let the blinds in the office down. He was obviously serious about providing some privacy for their discussion.

Siannon wandered round Jack's office, touching nothing but looking at just about everything she politely could. He had indicated she was to precede him into the office, while he sent a command from his wrist device to close the blinds. He took off his coat, to hang it on the stand in one corner but couldn't repress a shudder as his hand contacted the blood, his blood, all over the coat and his shirt. He glared at it

"Well I sure hope Ianto can get this clean." He shrugged a little, the drying blood causing his shirt to stick to him. He looked at Siannon apologetically. "Hey, do you really mind if I change out of this first?" He picked at a fold of blood soaked material. Siannon shook her head; she knew how horrible dried blood felt next to the skin, particularly if it was your own. "Thanks, I'll be right back." Without further ado, he disappeared down a ladder into a hole in the floor that she had not even noticed. She decided to hang up her own coat, but made sure it was on the opposite side to Jack's; it was bad enough getting her own blood on clothes, she didn't want anyone else's on her coat, especially not that of an immortal who didn't seem to be one. She noticed that there was only the one chair behind the desk, and went to grab another from just outside the other entrance to the room. She'd just placed it by the desk when Ianto arrived with coffee.

"Thanks," she said, not really paying attention to him, though she watched his every move as he placed both cups on the desk. As he leaned over, his sleeves rode up his arms a little, exposing his wrists. Like lightning, Siannon shot an arm out and grabbed him. He turned to face her, with no indication of surprise at her abrupt move. "Seems like Jack isn't the only one who has to do some explaining," she observed as she stared at the faint circular scar on the inside of Ianto's left wrist. Ianto met her eyes, not trying to hide anything.

"They don't know about that part of my life. Obviously, it's over now or I'd have more than a scar there."

"Obviously." Siannon didn't sound convinced, but she let go of him.

"We can talk once you've finished here. If you want."

"Oh, I want to, all right." They both turned and moved away from each other at the sound of footsteps on the metal ladder. Jack appeared back in the office, looking a lot cleaner and more relaxed than he had minutes earlier.

"Thanks, Ianto. I hate to ask, but…" Jack flicked a quick glance over to his bloody coat. Ianto smiled gently.

"I'll have the coat back to you in a couple of days; good as new, sir." He picked up the coat and left, Jack's eyes following him as Ianto closed the door behind himself.

For what seemed like an age, but was probably in reality only seconds, Jack and Siannon stared at each other, as if trying to ascertain the other's inner secrets merely with a glance. Jack looked away first, with a smile and a shrug; he hadn't had 1500 consecutive years of life to put behind his stare after all but it was Siannon who broke the silence as she flopped gracelessly into her chair.

"Why on earth have you got Ryan Kendrick's body? And what kind of organisation are you to need a morgue in the first place?" Jack spread his arms, and grinned.

"We are Torchwood. Separate from the Government, outside the police, beyond the United Nations. To actually explain what we do in detail requires a suspension of disbelief." He sat down in his own chair behind the desk, and took a swig of his coffee.

"I'm already used to things beyond normal ken; you can't live for 1500 years and not be. Consider my disbelief suspended for the duration. Now, why have you got Ryan Kendrick's body in your morgue?"

"Because we didn't know what else to do with it. We knew what appeared to have killed him, but other things just didn't add up to your normal sort of beheading; if there is a normal sort of beheading. We had lots of questions, but Mr Kendrick wasn't giving us any answers. You can."

"And I will, as long as you answer at least some of the ones I've got. So, just what does Torchwood do?"

"The Torchwood Institute was set up by Queen Victoria in 1879, to combat the enemies of the Empire that were 'beyond imagination', and later to acquire alien technology. What we do specifically in Cardiff is to keep our eye on a rift in space and time that happens to have an anchor here. We don't know where or when the other anchor points might be."

"So, those monsters..." She was interrupted.

"Weevils."

"Those weevils came through the rift and ended up in Cardiff?"

"Essentially, yes." Jack grinned, swinging in his chair. "Said you'd need to suspend your disbelief, didn't I?"

"You're not kidding. Still, I always did like the fantastical. Where does Kendrick fit in though?"

"We investigate anything out of the ordinary, and lightning in a clear sky is not ordinary. Just what *was* that anyway? Tosh said there was a massive amount of energy released in that warehouse, is that what caused the lightning?" Siannon sipped her own coffee, wondering how best to reply.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. What you actually witnessed was the release of an immortal's life force, and it's absorption by another immortal."

"You."

"Me. We call it the Quickening, and every immortal like me has quickening in varying amounts, depending on their age and the number of quickenings taken from other immortals. The only way an immortal can die is by decapitation �" though I suppose complete atomic disintegration might also work; no-one's tried that yet…"

"So you all run around trying to chop off each others heads? Sounds like fun." Jack's face showed how much he disagreed with that statement. "Just how many immortals like you are there?"

"Most of us are fairly peaceful, you'll be pleased to know. As for numbers, there's only a couple of hundred that I know about, there may be more. There is an old legend that says eventually only 1 immortal will be left, and that immortal will receive something called 'the prize'. Many of us don't really care about that, why would we want to kill the friends we've had for centuries? However, there are some immortals who hunt others down, or take the opportunity to fight whenever it presents itself purely so they can take another head and another quickening. Kendrick was one of those."

"He obviously miscalculated."

"Probably. I keep a pretty low profile in immortal terms so it's doubtful he knew much about me. I know I'd never met him before." She stretched in her chair, catlike. "Enough about me, what about you?"

"I need to more one more thing, first." Jack leaned back, and put his feet up on his desk.

"Which is?"

"How do your sort of immortals get that way?"

Siannon got up, to pace restlessly round the office.

"We're born like this, kind of. Immortals always seem to be foundlings, with no living parents and we grow up just like any other person; until we die the first time. If that 'first' death is a traumatic one we become immortal; if we just die of old age or illness, we don't. The age you are at that first death, is the age you stay."

"So there can be immortal children?"

"Where do you think JM Barrie got the idea for Peter Pan? He just didn't let on; people would have thought he was crazy, more than they did already." Jack's feet hit the floor with a thud as he leaned forward again.

"I thought that was based on those kids he was friends with or even because of his brother dying?"

"So does everyone else. A friend of mine told me otherwise. Now, about you…"

"You'll need to keep that disbelief suspended you know." Siannon impatiently gestured him to continue; he was being evasive, that much was plain and her curiosity was well and truly aroused.

"I was born in the 51st century." She whirled round to face him.

"You're from the future? Dagda's Balls! How in the seven hells did you… ah, the rift of course." Jack didn't confirm or deny her assumption, but continued his story.

"I was travelling with some friends, when we got involved in a fight with some aliens. I got shot… killed… and when I woke there was no-one else there."

"What happened to your friends?" Siannon had stopped her pacing, and perched on Jack's side of the desk.

"I don't know. I went back to where they'd left their ship and I saw it leaving. They must have known I was dead. Now I can't die. I bleed, I bruise, I scar, but I can't die. And I don't seem to age." He looked up at Siannon, the pain once more uppermost in his expression. "I have real trouble dealing with that, you know." Siannon reached forward and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"I know," she said softly. This time, Jack knew that it wasn't just a platitude stated to make him feel better, this woman really *did* know what it was like not to age, not to die. It was such a relief to find someone that did, and he hadn't realised he needed that.

~*~

In the main part of the hub, the rest of the team had returned. Ianto did not think it was his place to tell them that the weevil killer was actually a 1500 year old immortal woman, but he had informed them that the weevil-killer had been found by Jack and was now in his office (and had been for a while, but he neglected to tell them that too). The fact that there was a stranger in Jack's office that none of the others knew anything about seemed to put them all on edge so while they all settled into their respective workstations, and appeared to be busy, there was at least one pair of eyes staring at Jack's office at all times. Not wanting to miss anything, Ianto kept them all supplied with coffee. It was Gwen who broke first and gave vent to what they were all feeling.

"Just what are they doing in there?" Owen had a coffee moment and had to hastily wipe off his monitor while Toshiko glared at him. Gwen grinned and shook her head. "Owen, you have a one track mind." He leaned back and smirked.

"Yeah, but you knew what I was thinking…"

Ianto found that the mental image so helpfully prompted by Owen made him feel rather uncomfortable. He decided not go down that road any further and resolutely squashed the feeling into submission. He'd a fair bit of practice at doing that after all. Jack chose that moment to open the door of his office, and stuck his head out.

"Boardroom in 10, everyone." He announced before shutting the door again.

"Time to make fresh coffee, then," said Ianto and disappeared into the kitchen area to do just that. Owen grabbed a pile of papers off his desk and began to quickly sort through them, putting the annotated ones aside. He had quite a few questions to ask this sword-wielding woman, and he also hoped at last he'd see the sword that had caused him such consternation, and maybe get a decent sample off it or persuade her to let him scan the damn thing at least. By the time he had finished, Toshiko and Gwen had already made their way up to the Boardroom, so he followed quickly. Ianto soon arrived with more coffee and they had just all settled down when they heard Jack's tread on the walkway outside.

~*~

Jack held the door to the boardroom open for her, and indicated Siannon should precede him. She did so, taking stock of the people seated around the table with a glance. She moved to an empty place and deliberately laid her sword down on the table in front of her. Jack moved to the place beside her.

"This is Siannon O'Niall, who we have been trying to find for the last few days. Siannon, this is the rest of the Torchwood team." Jack then proceeded to introduce them all, and she nodded politely at each person as their name was given before sitting down. As Jack sat down next to her, silence reigned around the table.

"I suppose you're all wondering why someone is running around Cardiff in the 21st century with a sword." There were silent nods from Toshiko and Gwen, Owen rolled his eyes and Ianto smiled enigmatically at the table. "Tell me something then; is it more strange to carry a sword as a weapon or to work for an institution that is straight out of a sci-fi novel?" Owen shifted in his seat.

"I'd say it was pretty strange to use that sword to go round decapitating people. At least we know some of the whys and wherefores of the things we deal with. Apart from Jack, we know nothing about you. Unless you'd care to divulge a little?" To his surprise Siannon laughed, and not just a chuckle at that.

"All in the name of scientific curiosity I suppose, Dr Harper?" She grinned, but didn't wait for an answer. "I have a feeling that I might be dealing with you people again, so I think that it would be a good thing if I let you all know something about me. Jack will just have to put up with me repeating myself." They stared in silent curiosity as she put a small folded towel on the table in front of her, which changed to horror as they saw the knife appear in her hand, and then slash down. Toshiko was frozen in her seat but Gwen and Owen had to be restrained by Jack and Ianto watching wide eyed as the blood flowed onto the waiting material. Flowed, then dripped, then ceased. She folded the towel around the bloody patch and used it to wipe off her unscarred hand. Then the questions started.

"Who are you?"

"What are you?"

The answer did not come from the source they expected.

"She is Siannon Fionnuala Aislin O'Niall, she was born in Ireland in the Dark Ages, and she cannot die." Siannon gravely inclined her head.

"Thank You for the introduction, Ianto. However, there is one way someone like me can die, and that is by decapitation..."

"So that's what happened to Ryan Kendrick! And if he had healing abilities like you've just demonstrated, that explains all the other anomalies about his injuries too." Owen stuttered to a stop, realising that he had just interrupted a very dangerous woman.

"Don't worry; all of you will be keeping your heads firmly attached to your shoulders if I have anything to so with it, even you, Owen."

"Thanks, I think." They shared an unexpected smile. "One thing Ms O'Niall…"

"Siannon, please…"

"Siannon. I'd really be interested to find out more about that sword." He indicated the weapon lying on the table in front of them.

"Of course. No time like the present, if that's OK…" she glanced at Jack who gave her a quick nod. "I'm going to be in Cardiff for a few days more at least so if any of the rest of you need to ask me something, I'll be around. I have questions of my own, you know…" She scooped up her sword, and rose, indicating Owen to precede her. As they reached the door Ianto heard her soft murmur "Lead on MacDuff".

Toshiko and Gwen both started to talk at once as the door shut behind Owen and Siannon. Jack let them carry on for a few seconds before raising his hands, as if to fend them off.

"Later, later! Right now, I really need to check out some things with Ianto, if you'll excuse us…"

"Yeah."

"No Problem."

Jack was already out of the door before the women had finished speaking. Ianto shrugged apologetically at them and followed with alacrity; he knew it wouldn't do to keep Jack waiting for this explanation.

Toshiko and Gwen shared a perplexed look, before Gwen started to pick up the coffee cups.

"Somehow, I think Ianto is going to be a bit busy to be worrying about coffee for a while…"

~*~

Following Owen toward the autopsy area, Siannon noticed Jack storming toward his office, his face resolute. Glancing upward she noticed Ianto watching him, and then catch sight of her. She pointed to her left wrist, and received a grim nod in reply. She decided she had better run some damage control, as she wanted to find out about Ianto's connection with the Watchers and she wouldn't if Jack tore him to metaphorical pieces. She heard Ianto's footsteps descend the stairs and make their slow way after Jack, and caught up with Owen.

"Do you still have Kendrick's sword?" She asked brusquely. Owen, puzzled, turned to face her.

"Yes, it's still here. But why?"

"May I have it please? Now?" Still staring at her in bemusement, Owen moved over to where the katana had remained once its owner had been transferred to the morgue. Gingerly he handed it to her; facing an expert sword user with two swords in their hands was disconcerting to say the least. She grinned.

"Thanks." She laid her own sword tenderly down on the autopsy trolley. "You were interested in this, so you can have a good look at it while I go and just have another quick chat with Jack about things he doesn't understand. Use ultrasound or Xrays on it, or even your eyes, but don't go anywhere near it with magnetism or a blade. I'll know if you do and I won't be happy. It's very old and very precious." With that she turned on her heel and ran back up the steps to the main floor, naked katana in hand. Dispassionately, Owen noticed how her grip on the two swords had differed, and found himself torn between staring after her, and staring at the beautiful, deadly and ancient thing in front of him. Scientific curiosity won over personal as it nearly always did, and he approached the trolley and its contents with reverent interest. Mindful of her warning, he carefully washed and disinfected his hands before daring to touch the blade.

~*~

Jack leant on his desk, arms folded, face grim, as Ianto walked through the door. Closing it behind him, he leaned on the window beside it not wanting to get any closer to the anger he felt simmering in Jack. He noticed the blinds were still closed. With the space of the room between them, the air fairly crackled with tension as they met each other's eyes.

"You knew." Jack almost spat the words out. Ianto nodded carefully.

"And you know about me." Another nod, this one more unsure.

"You know I need to be able to trust you, Ianto, even more than the others; so why do you seem to have a separate agenda? What are you hiding this time? Who are you, Ianto Jones?" Before Ianto could make any attempt to answer, the door to the office was flung open, and Siannon, complete with sword, burst in.

"Oh good, you're both still in one piece. I thought I might be too late." She carefully shut the door behind her, and leaned against the window echoing Ianto's position, but on the other side of the door. The sword remained in her hand. "I realise Ianto has some explaining to do, but I need to hear it too. I know some of the what and the how of his background, but I don't know the why. Jack, this is too important to me and mine for me to let you shoot him down in flames over something you don't understand, believe me."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Then maybe you'd care to explain seeing as he's giving me the silent treatment." Jack unwound enough to walk around his desk and threw himself into the chair. Ianto didn't move from his position, but Siannon perched on the desk, laying the sword down carefully.

"For almost as many years as Immortals have walked this earth, there have been those who Watch them. They are like this sword; taken as a whole they are neither good nor evil, they merely are. They Watch, they record, they don't interfere. Or they didn't until the last 50 years or so. The majority of Immortals don't even know they exist; I, however, have privileged information and some pretty useful friends; or I should say I did. I kind of struck a deal with the Watchers in order to be left in peace to live my life, and knowing who and what I did at the time, they agreed. This is Immortal business, Jack, and you don't need to know it." Jack leaned back in his chair, and looked speculatively at Ianto.

"So, you're a Watcher of Immortals are you? Why the hell did you end up in Torchwood, and how did you pass the security clearance?" Siannon nodded in agreement.

"That is exactly what I'd like to know. It took a lot of manoeuvring to get me out of the Watcher's main line of sight, and I don't particularly want to end up back there by suddenly finding myself in an interesting position." Ianto gave her a quick smile.

"You won't. As far as the Watchers are concerned, I'm missing, presumed dead, as are hundreds of other people who were at Torchwood One. Torchwood obviously knows I'm still alive, but the records for some people went missing in the confusion afterward, as did many other things." Ianto finally left his post by the door to sit in the chair Siannon had brought in earlier. She regarded him with curiosity.

"So who came first, the Watchers or Torchwood? You don't look old enough to have been working for any great length of time for one secret organisation, never mind two, and I know you're not like me, even potentially. No idea if you're like him, of course." She jerked her head in Jack's direction.

"He's not," said Jack tersely. Ianto smiled at them both.

"That's a relief, I've never wanted to live more than one life, this one's complicated enough as it is. As for me, it's not a particularly interesting story, more a case of me being in the right place at the wrong time…" He settled a little more comfortably into the chair. "When I was in my teens, I stumbled onto a fight between 2 immortals. The Watcher concerned discovered me and protected me from being seen by them and also from the Quickening afterwards. When he realised that I was more curious than afraid, I was basically recruited on the spot, though I was obviously a little young at the time. At the Watcher academy they discovered I had a talent for computers and electronics systems, so they encouraged that branch of study. A big part of my responsibilities was to assist in designing and setting up a new security system for their database, as well as laying false information trails; there'd been a bit of a shake up in the Watcher organisation at that time, due in part to some of Siannon's acquaintances I believe." He glanced at her, and received a confirming nod. He should have guessed she was involved with Joe Dawson, Duncan MacLeod and their friends somewhere down the line. "To cut a long story short, the Watchers stumbled across Torchwood; they felt that aliens would be a very good cover for Immortals and decided I should be placed there, keeping an eye open for any possible undercover immortals rather than have my talents wasted out in the field, Watching. Torchwood seemed to be very happy with my known credentials, and I was soon working at Torchwood One in Canary Wharf. The Watchers seemed to conveniently forget about me at that point, and it was easy for me become just a Torchwood employee. I was happy there, and I met someone very special who made me forget about Watchers and Torchwood and just let me be myself…" Ianto's voice broke, and Siannon leaned over to squeeze his hand. She didn't know about that side of his story, but she understood emotion well enough. Jack however, did, and made his way to stand on the other side of Ianto, gently resting one hand on his shoulder to offer silent comfort. He took up the narrative.

"Then the Cybermen and the Daleks came. Torchwood One was pretty much destroyed, and Ianto ended up here."

"I wanted nothing more to do with the Watchers, they'd abandoned me when I needed them most." Ianto took his cue from Jack and made no mention of Lisa. That was Torchwood business, personal, and not to be discussed with outsiders. Maybe at some point, but that time was not here and now.

"I take it that was when you got rid of the tattoo?" Siannon asked carefully.

"It seemed too good an opportunity to miss."

"And you've had nothing to do with the Watchers or Immortals since?"

"Until you arrived in Cardiff. They still don't know I'm alive, but I discovered I can still access the database. They won't have any idea I did though, unless I choose to add or change any information; I did a good job on that system." Jack took up a perch on the desk, at the other end from Siannon.

"So when you recognised an Immortal Quickening, you got information from your old employers without them being any the wiser? I like it. Why didn't you tell me though? Didn't you think you could trust me?" Ianto met Jack's eyes, the look they shared being so intense that Siannon felt like she was intruding.

"Trust wasn't the issue. I know I can trust you; I'm still here, aren't I? I just didn't want you to get pulled into that world. For every Immortal like Siannon, there's at least one like Kendrick."

"Good job I'm an anomaly then, and not likely to get involved in that whole game." He sighed. "Still, it would be good to know how I ended up like this." Pushing himself off the desk he went to stand by the door, his back to both Ianto and Siannon. Ianto looked at Siannon, she shrugged. Then something clicked in her head and she grinned.

"You know Jack, there's someone I think you should meet. I have no idea whether I'll be able to get hold of him or not - he's one of those acquaintances Ianto mentioned - but I bet you'd have a few things to discuss." Jack turned round and leaned on the door, interest lighting his eyes.

"Oh yeah?"

"Definitely. And I'm saying no more than that. Now I'd better go and rescue my sword from Owen's clutches." She scooped up the katana. "He can have this one back." She breezed out of the office leaving Ianto staring after her incredulously.

"I can't believe she left Owen alone with her sword!"

"She probably threatened him with something dire first."

"Probably. I'm glad you didn't mention Lisa."

"I didn't think you'd appreciate it if I did. And anyway, why should I, it had nothing to do with Siannon after all." Ianto gave Jack a tight, but appreciative smile, and scrambled out of his chair.

Coffee?"

"Love some, thanks." And with that, Ianto was forgiven.

As Ianto headed off to make some well earned coffee for them both, Jack at last raised the blinds in the office, only to notice Toshiko and Gwen staring. Grinning, he waved at them before heading back to his desk.

~*~

Owen, in the meantime, was in a sort of heaven. It wasn't often that he had willing experimental subjects, never mind ones that could hold a decent conversation. Siannon had been more than willing to be poked, prodded and stabbed in the cause of science; something which he initially felt very wary about because if the positions had been reversed he would not have let anyone near. However, her answer had been simple; scientific curiosity.

"As far as I'm aware, no-one has looked into the biomechanics of immortality. It's something I've always wondered about, but even when I've been a Doctor myself there hadn't been the opportunity to find out."

"You're a Doctor?" Owen found himself warming to her even more.

"I have been, amongst other things. You get to try a few different jobs when you know you're likely to be around for a while. Medically, privacy and security don't necessarily go hand in hand when you're looking at potentially unusual results. That's why I'm glad you're here; at last I can satisfy my own curiosity without the rest of the world looking over my shoulder."

"So we're the first?"

"That we are." She grinned at Owen; he returned it with a smile of his own. So much of his research could not be shared, if it could have been his career would have taken off long ago. He'd missed the company of someone who understood the fascination of learning how to understand how life worked, whether it was life that was native to Earth or not. Toshiko shared some of the same curiosity in learning how things worked, but if it was purely biological she found it difficult to maintain her interest. Siannon not only shared his interest, she'd seen many of the discoveries in medicine - and rediscoveries - happen almost first hand. They had so much to discuss with each other. He didn't stop to think for one second that she might not want to. His reverie was broken by an insistent beeping from one of the consoles.

"Lets see what we've got… ummm… you're polycythaemic for a start."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing for someone like me."

"I suppose not." He peered at the screen a moment longer. "Everything else is normal. The genetic screen will take a little bit longer, but so far, apart from the PV, you test out as a perfectly normal human. Just like the rest of us."

"Including your boss?"

"Him too. Why, do you know something I don't about our illustrious leader?" Siannon kicked herself for speaking without thinking. She'd assumed that because Ianto obviously knew about Jack, that all his staff did.

"Not than I know of. He just seems… different… somehow." She shrugged. Owen leaned against the worktop and looked at her appraisingly.

"Pot, kettle, black." He intoned. Siannon stared at him for a second and then burst out laughing.

"You have a point." She glanced at her watch. "You know, it's getting kind of late. I think I'd better make tracks. Do you lot work all night or something?"

"If there's a need, or something interesting is happening. I think I'll just let the computers tick over, and pick up the results in the morning. Will you be back tomorrow?"

"Count on it. I really want to know just where immortals fit into the picture. See you!" She gave him a wave and bounded up the stairs, sword in hand. Gwen and Toshiko were still in the main area of the Hub, but were also getting ready to leave. They both greeted her with a smile and Gwen indicated the sword;

"Did Owen find out what he wanted to know about that." Siannon turned her sword over in her hand to examine it more closely. Although she knew every inch of it, she still found it a thing of incredible and perilous beauty.

"I think so. There's also a few other tests running that you might be interested in, he's going to collate the results tomorrow.

"So you'll be coming back then?"

"Try and stop me!"

"Oh good. Me and Tosh didn't quite get to ask you our 20 questions…"

"I'll make sure the others don't monopolise me tomorrow then." Gwen grinned, and glanced triumphantly at Toshiko with an air of 'I told you so' about her. Toshiko smiled back at her, then nodded to Siannon.

"We'll see you tomorrow then. I need to go home and decide just which of the million and one things I want to ask you, I *really* want to ask you. 'Bye." Gwen added her goodbyes, and she and Toshiko left together.

"See you tomorrow!" Siannon called out, just as they approached the door. She got a wave of acknowledgement in return, as they walked out.

She could hear Owen still clattering around in his domain, but there was no sign of Ianto. Jack she could see in his office, staring intently at something on his computer screen. She headed in his direction. Jack looked up with a smile as she walked through his door.

"I see your sword survived Owen intact."

"Not a scratch on it." She made her way over to the rack, grabbed her coat and pulled it on, secreting the sword in its depths. She wandered back over to the desk and leaned on the corner closest to Jack, he swung round in his chair to see her better.

"So who is this person you want me to meet?" he asked. She grinned.

"I said I wasn't going to tell you."

"You know you want to…"

"Let's just say he's an old friend."

"Oh? How old?"

"Enough that you'll have lots to talk about. He's a couple of thousand years older than you, but in the right direction. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow." Siannon scrambled off the desk, but she misjudged how fast Jack's reactions were and didn't get very far as a vice-like hand grabbed hold of her wrist. She turned back to face him.

"There's actually someone who's 5000 years old still alive?" She nodded. "You're serious?"

"Deadly." The grip relaxed quickly, and she pulled her arm away, grinning impishly. "With 8,000 years of experience between you, just think of all the fun things you can discuss." Siannon thought Jack did a very good impression of a stranded fish…

"8,000 years…"

"Of experience. Yes."

"Holy…" She interrupted with a snort of disbelief.

"Oh he's not holy. Anything but. Just make sure you get some beer…" And before he could say anything else, she fled, leaving a thoroughly stunned Jack in her wake.

~*~

Siannon chuckled all the way back to her rooms. Giving Jack a shock like that, and then leaving him floundering was probably a bit evil of her, but then if he couldn't cope with a minor revelation, he was going to be woefully out of his depth when he met a master. She wondered how old Jack actually was in linear terms, but wasn't sure if he'd know himself so she added it to her mental list of things to ask him. She realised she was too wired to sleep when she got back, so she flicked on the TV, and then promptly dissolved into giggles when she realised that the film showing was Time Bandits. Stifling the giggles proved more difficult than she expected, but she was eventually calm enough to use her phone. She quickly glanced at the clock to work out the time differences, and rang what she knew would only be the first number of many that night.

~*~

The next morning, Ianto was surprised out of his office by a cheery voice wishing him good morning and offering currant buns. He popped out of the office to discover Siannon on the other side of the reception desk with a large paper bag. They bantered a little about the 'tourist information' office, as they made their way down into the hub. It was only as they waited for the door to roll open that Ianto realised that they were speaking Welsh; he'd not thought about it, just automatically answered when Siannon greeted him. She grinned at him as she saw him make the connection.

"That was a bit mean of me I suppose," she commented, in English, "But I couldn't resist it. I knew you'd speak Welsh or you wouldn't be able to keep that cover story up there going, but not everyone will switch automatically between languages without thinking about it. I take it you grew up speaking Welsh?"

"We used both Welsh and English at home, but I don't think it was always a conscious thing. I have friends who didn't learn English 'til they went to school." They made their way to the kitchenette, Ianto to start the morning coffee, Siannon to put away her purchases. She leaned against the wall and watched Ianto puttering around.

"You know, I didn't learn English 'til I was in my 20s or 30s, though I did have a bit of Latin before that. Not many people speak Latin though."

"You grew up speaking Gaelic, I take it." Siannon nodded

"In an older form. It isn't as different from today's Gaelic as Old English is from modern English, but there's a difference all the same. If we wanted to write anything though, it was always done in Latin; oġam wasn't really practical a lot of the time."

"You might want to take a look at our archives then; I'm sure there are some things written in Latin but we've never bothered trying to get them translated."

"I'll look forward to that; I rather like poking around in things that other people leave behind." He passed her the first mug of coffee, and took another for himself. Siannon gave him a big smile after she took her first appreciative sip. "I don't know what it is you do to coffee, Ianto Jones, but it tastes like heaven." He grinned back.

"That's what they all say. I'll take Jack's down now, keep me company?"

"Don't mind if I do." They negotiated the area between the kitchen and Jack's office in a companionable silence.

~*~

Jack stretched as he leaned back in his chair. He'd spent another near-sleepless night as usual, but this one had been more interesting than most as he tried to imagine the things that someone who had lived for thousands of years might have seen and done; and Jack had a very vivid imagination. He realised he was looking forward to meeting this 'old friend' of Siannon's, and not just to discuss immortality. He wiped the indecent grin off his face when he caught the smell of freshly brewed coffee emanating from outside his office; Ianto didn't need any more evidence to think his boss had a one-track mind, he already had enough to be going on with.

With coffee and Ianto, arrived company. As Ianto left, with a not so decorous smile on his own face, Siannon plunked herself down on Jack's desk, being careful not to knock over the coffee. She grinned at Jack, and he couldn't stop the answering grin from creeping over his own face as he looked up at her.

"Been thinking, have you?" she teased.

"Maybe." He took an appreciative sip of his coffee, still grinning fit to split his face.

"I'm sorry, but I think you'll have while to mull things over. He's proving rather elusive. Not that I'm surprised about that, he's had a lot of practise at keeping his head down, more so than me - or you for that matter."

"Oh. Can't Ianto find him on that Immortal database?" Siannon burst out laughing, and had to put her coffee down in a hurry so she didn't spill it. Jack's grin had morphed into a puzzled frown, he didn't even need ask 'what's so funny?' as his face said it for him.

"My friend has never *been* on that database. In fact, he infiltrated the Watchers at one point and managed to get put in charge of finding himself. As the oldest living immortal he was something of a legend and he had great fun falsifying his own story. Needless to say they didn't find him."

"How come you know him then?"

"Oh, we've been friends for over a thousand years. It was him who taught me to read and write Greek after we first met in Athens, not to mention correcting my atrocious accent. I was still quite young then, about 250…"

"250 is *young*?!" Jack spluttered into his coffee

"Well it is once you get past a thousand."

"I suppose it would be." Jack shook his head incredulously. "I'm still having trouble with this. I've kind of got used to not-dying, but I can't get my head around living forever."

"You get used to it after a while, usually once you're sick of it. I take it you're still pretty young in linear terms, even if you are older than me on paper."

"Older? Oh yeah, I'm supposedly 3000 aren't I. 3000! I've only been here since 1869 and living through the whole of the 20th century was bad enough; I just can't comprehend getting back to the 51st and still being me. God, that could cause one hell of a paradox if it ever happens…" They shared a glance and Siannon shrugged.

"Never been a problem for me, I have to admit." She said. "Before meeting you I would have relegated time travel to something strictly out of science fiction, in fact I would have done the same for this whole place. It's nice to know that there are still surprises waiting to happen in my life."

"Yeah, but I wasn't expecting to find a whole bunch of immortals running around and chopping each others heads off either. Give me the Weevils any day; at least I know where I am with them."

"I'll let you keep the weevils then." She slithered off the desk and made her way to the door. "I'd better go see if Owen has found out anything more interesting about me, and I did promise the girls some time too."

"As long as I get to monopolise your company later."

"It'll be a pleasure." Jack watched Siannon walk across the hub, and disappear down the stairs to the autopsy room. He found himself being rather surprised that she not only tolerated Owen, but seemed to get on with him quite well. He supposed they'd found some common ground, after all Owen was pleased to say the least in having a cooperative and interested experimental subject. Jack decided it might be worth doing some research of his own. He checked the internal cameras to discover Ianto had already gone back upstairs, and followed.

~*~

Owen looked up from the terminal as Siannon clattered down the stairs, and gave her a smile that lit his face.

"Anything interesting?" She asked.

"Ooh lots of things. Firstly though, I can tell you that you are definitely a genetic human. All chromosomes are present and correct and you don't have any you shouldn't, though you do have a startling rate of cell division. If we want to find out about your individual genes, we're going to have to find ourselves a geneticist to map your genome who isn't going to shout from the rooftops about anything unusual. Know anyone who would fit the bill?" He moved away from the terminal to allow Siannon access.

"Unfortunately, I don't. Maybe it's time for me to have a change of profession again… though I'm not sure how any other immortals would feel about it. At least this way, it's just between me and Torchwood."

"Which is safer for us all, no doubt?"

"No doubt at all."

"I have discovered one other strange thing, apart from your PV. Here, look." Owen leaned over and hit a few keys on the keyboard. "The first column are your results, the rest are just for comparison, from women of a similar BMI." Siannon peered at the screen for a few seconds until the significance of the results hit her.

"No wonder Immortals are sterile; we're on the bloody pill naturally!"

"The women anyway; obviously a male is not going to have the same sort of hormone levels. You got any male immortal friends who'd mind being poked around in the cause of science?"

"Not in this country. There's a couple who might be able to be persuaded but I couldn't guarantee it. Pity, you've got me *really* curious now."

"I bet." They shared a conspiratorial grin. "There is one more thing…" Owen opened a drawer and brought out a strange looking device. He laid it on the work surface between them. "This is a Bekaran scanner. It can scan almost down to cellular level, without disturbing the patient. And yes, it's alien tech." He took a breath. "I'd like to scan you, if you'll let me." Siannon picked up the device gingerly.

"How does it work?" Owen showed her, guiding her in scanning his hand and arm and watched as her smile became broader and broader. "Never mind you scanning me, I'd scan myself with that thing. It's brilliant! Still, I suppose it's easier for someone else to do it. Just let me see the interesting bits when you've finished. Now, where do you want me?" She sat where Owen indicated; rather glad that he'd not asked her to lie on the trolley as she was pretty certain that the last person to be on there had been a headless Ryan Kendrick.

~*~

Ianto heard the door from the hub opening, and wondered who it might be; most of the time the others didn't bother to come upstairs. He pushed himself away from the desk as Jack came through the door to his office. He took one look at Jack's face, and realised what he wanted.

"You're after information, I take it."

"Am I that obvious?" Jack pulled a chair up to the desk to sit beside Ianto.

"Probably not, but I know you well enough by now to tell what you want."

"Do you really?" Jack wasn't 100% certain but was convinced he saw Ianto blush.

"Well, some of the time at least." Ianto started tapping away at the keyboard, the screen cleared to show a logo that Jack did not recognise. "That's the Symbol of the Watchers, it's the same as the one I had tattooed here." Ianto indicated the circular scar on his left arm. "Now, what do you need to know?" Jack moved a little closer.

"Siannon has told me she's going to get in touch with an 'old friend', someone she thinks might be good for me to meet. She didn't give me a name, though she did say he wasn't on the database."

"If he's not on the database, how can I get you any information? Hang on a minute; you said an 'old friend' she didn't happen to mention *how* old did she?"

"As far as I can work it out, he's about 5000 years old. She said he was the oldest living immortal." Ianto's eyes grew progressively wider as Jack imparted the information. He'd barely finished speaking when Ianto burst out,

"Methos! My god, she's going to introduce you to Methos! Bloody Hell."

"Who?" Jack frowned, Ianto might as well have been speaking Welsh for all the sense he had made of the statement.

"Methos was one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse."

"What? You mean they actually existed?" Jack was sceptical.

"Unfortunately, yes. They were your original Terrorist Organisation."

"Which one was he?" Ianto didn't answer immediately, but turned to face Jack with a sombre expression on his face. "Which one, Ianto?" Jack repeated emphatically. Ianto reluctantly gave him the answer.

"Death." Nothing was said as they held each others eyes for a moment, then Jack pushed himself away from the desk with a sigh.

"Oh great, now I'm going to get introduced to Death. I wonder if this is her idea of a joke."

"Methos has changed since then, and the other 3 are dead." Jack could almost hear the 'honest' at the end of that sentence; he smiled grimly to himself. Ianto was still talking, "You know, it was every Watchers dream to find Methos and at last get him on the database. Even though no-one knew who he was he had his own Watcher to try and trace him through the older records and other immortal's chronicles. No-one ever found him." Jack clambered out of his chair, and started to pace.

"According to Siannon that was his fault."

"His fault? How?"

"She said he infiltrated the Watchers and falsified his own records." Ianto shook his head in disbelief.

"I don't believe it. Methos was his own Watcher? That means… Oh my God, that means he must have been Adam Pierson!"

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, but it explains a hell of a lot. Adam Pierson was Methos, who'd have thought it. You won't need this then." Ianto reached over and logged out of the Watcher database. "Don't tell her you know who he is, from what I know of him Methos was very defensive about his privacy."

"Still is; Siannon says he's being elusive and she's known him for over 1000 years, but then Siannon won't be the problem." Jack gave Ianto's shoulder a squeeze. "Thanks Ianto." He said, before heading toward the door.

"No problem, sir. Just…" Jack turned, and met Ianto's concerned eyes. "Take care."

"Don't worry, I intend to." Ianto listened to the receding footsteps, and waited until he had heard the hub door close again before swearing comprehensively in Welsh. Despite his concerns, part of him really wanted to meet the oldest immortal. If anyone could help Jack, it would be Methos.

~*~

"This is amazing." Owen let out a low whistle as he stared at the screen.

"What is? Here, let me see, it's my bloody scans you're in raptures about so you can at least let me have a look." Siannon elbowed him to one side so she could see the screen better. Owen had loaded the images from the Bekaran scanner onto the computer for easier viewing.

"You don't have a single maturing egg in either of your ovaries; in fact I'm not sure you ever did."

"Yet another reason why immortals don't have children. I'd still be interested to see what kind of internal set up the guys have, though."

"You and me both. It's almost as if all the normal reproductive processes have been put on hold and the body's resources diverted toward cell renewal."

"Explains what you've found as well as anything else. I'll consider my curiosity satisfied - for now." She noticed that Owen had picked up and was fiddling with one of the instruments from his work area. He was also steadfastly not looking at her. She watched him for a few seconds, and was just about to ask him what was wrong when lifted his head to look straight in her eyes.

"Did you ever want children?" He asked in a soft voice.

"Did I?... Gods and Goddesses, of course I did. I still do." She closed her eyes against the pain, the empty feeling that never quite left her.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." Owen whispered.

"You didn't know. Most of the immortals I count as friends regard that as our greatest sorrow. Part of my reason for working with you was to try and discover the cause - which we've partly done - and if there was anyway round it…"

"Which there isn't; or not here and now, at least. Time is one thing you aren't short of, I suppose; plus, you never know what's out there." He made a vague encompassing gesture.

"True enough." She rubbed her hands across her face, willing the miasma of negative emotion away, and took a deep breath. As she lowered her hands she gave Owen a smile, and turned to leave. She was partway up the stairs when Owen called,

"Siannon?" She stopped and turned round to look at him. "Thanks for your help; it's been a pleasure to work with you. Maybe again some time?" Siannon couldn't help but find Owen's enthusiasm infectious, and grinned at him.

"Oh, why the hell not."

"I'll look forward to it." With that, he turned back to his terminal and the work he probably should have been doing for the last 2 days. Siannon made her way out into the main area of The Hub, and nearly ran into Jack.

"Did I just hear Owen saying thanks?" He asked.

"Yup."

"How did you manage that?"

"It was a medic thing. I used to be a Doctor, you see."

"Ah, same wavelength." Jack caught her arm and steered her toward his office. "I know you were going to spend some time with the others, but there's something I need to ask you that I don't want them overhearing." Siannon let herself be led to the office, but once inside did not sit down, just leaned against the door. Jack sat on his desk.

"What is it?" She asked.

"How much do you know about Methos's past?" Her eyes narrowed suspicion.

"I didn't give you that name."

Jack folded his arms, and pinned her with his stare.

"I know you didn't; but Ianto did. He also told me some very interesting things about your 'friend' and his 3 partners in crime."

"Oh dear." Siannon shoved the feeling of impending doom back down where she wanted it, and ignored it. Jack didn't know the half of it. He continued to stare at her.

"And?"

"Well, it's true for a start off, but it was the Bronze Age. Things were different then, and he walked away from all that a long time ago. He might have the same name, but you are not going to meet the man who was Death, I can guarantee that." Jack breathed a sigh of relief, and relaxed.

"I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that. I'm not ready to meet Death yet." Siannon grinned at him.

"Obviously." She indicated the rest of The Hub behind her "Alright if I…?"

"Go on, I can monopolise you later." She made good her escape, wondering how Methos would take the news that there was an anomalous immortal and an ex-Watcher who knew his best kept secrets, especially considering she had pointed them in the right direction. She was going to need a *lot* of beer… The prospect of dealing with Gwen and Toshiko was much more pleasant.

It turned out that only Toshiko was in main area of The Hub at that point, and she was only too happy to answer Siannon's questions about her job, as long as they didn't go too in depth and if they did she politely deferred the question. She also had a unique viewpoint of her colleagues, from the fact that she tended to stand apart from the centre of things by personality and inclination. Siannon couldn't help thinking that Tosh would have made an excellent Watcher, though she supposed that with working at Torchwood she already was, just not Watching the same things. Gwen appeared from the archives and soon all three of them were gossiping with each other as if they'd been friends for years.

Ianto was brewing more coffee when Owen wandered over to the kitchenette.

"Hey Ianto, you've got a sister haven't you?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Well, why is it that whenever you get more than 2 women together, they gossip?"

"I thought you'd know the answer to that."

"Why?"

"It's genetic, isn't it?"

"I suppose." Owen absent mindedly took the mug Ianto passed him. "Don't you think it's strange though? There's someone who's seen and done so much, and there she is quite content to gossip about…" he listened for moment "…shoes." Ianto shrugged.

"Women always talk about shoes, even my Gran. I'd much rather she talked about shoes than beheadings, wouldn't you?"

"You have a point." Owen escaped back to his work, leaving Ianto to watch the dynamics between the 3 women for a while before he took over their coffee. Having a sister came in useful at times, he could just about manage to hold his own in a conversation about shoes though he knew they were more likely to start teasing him about his taste in suits and ties than have a conversation with him. They didn't get the chance this time for as soon as he'd reached them, Siannon was brimming with questions of her own.

"Ianto, would it be possible to show me the archives? From what Tosh and Gwen have been telling me there's some fascinating stuff down there, and you did say you wouldn't mind me taking a look at some of your older documents. Please?" She looked so hopeful he couldn't help but smile.

"That shouldn't be a problem, but I'll have to check first, and shut up shop upstairs."

"I'll just enjoy the coffee and wait, then."

~*~

The archives were a contrast to the brightness of the Hub above them, while they weren't dark, they were certainly dim though there was light enough to see where they were going. Siannon couldn't help but stare at room after room spreading away from them.

"It's huge," she whispered. "Awe inspiring, even." She felt rather than heard Ianto chuckle next to her.

"And this," he made a sweeping gesture at the corridor ahead of them, "Is only the first level. Welcome to my domain, Siannon. Like everything else I seem to do for Torchwood, it's hidden away where you wouldn't think to look."

"Doesn't that seem natural to someone who used to be Watcher? Hiding I mean."

"I prefer to think of it as background support. It also means that no-one knows quite what to expect of me. I like that, even if it hasn't always worked out quite how I'd planned in the past." Ianto hesitated, there were some things better left unexplained. Siannon didn't notice, too busy looking around her

"The best laid plans of mice and men…"

"Something like that. Come on; let me show you those documents I mentioned." Ianto led the way down the corridor, then a set of stairs at the end. Eventually he brought them to a room that seemed smaller than it probably was due to every inch of wall space being filled with shelves, and most of the shelves being filled with boxes.

"Are all the rooms like this?"

"Pretty much, though each one varies as to the type of artefact that is stored in it. This room is one a group that have finer climatic control than the rest, so we keep some of our older documents in here even though temperature and humidity are fairly stable anyway. I was trying to catalogue them to time as well as type when I discovered the ones I want you to look at." He left Siannon gaping in the centre of the room while he went to poke around in one of the myriad boxes. He returned with a selection of sheets, each encased in a protective film, which he then passed over to her. Each sheet looked like it was made of much-scraped parchment, though she couldn't be certain without removing their protective covers, and was filled with tiny, faded writing. She moved into a better lit part of the room to puzzle out the words, while Ianto watched her with interest.

"It's Latin, all right." She announced. "But whoever wrote this obviously wasn't any sort of scribe; the spelling, grammar, even the way the letters are formed suggest that it was either not a priority document, or was done in an extreme hurry. And right now, it really doesn't make much sense, the easiest word to make out on these is the one for 'blue' I'd have to spend a fair bit of time with them before I could puzzle out any sort of meaning." Ianto smiled at her.

"I think you may have talked yourself into a job. I hope you weren't planning on leaving Cardiff soon."

"Fortunately, I wasn't."

"Right then, we'd better go and tell Jack. I hope he doesn't mind."

Jack did more than not mind, he was delighted, not least because it meant he could keep an eye on Siannon. He even took them out to dinner to celebrate the appointment of Torchwood's new temporary assistant archivist, and so the team acquired another immortal member.

~*~

Siannon enjoyed working in the archives, it reminded her of the scribing she used to do in the monasteries of her younger days, before the Roman way overtook British Christianity and forbid mixed houses. She didn't need much; just a desk, a chair, a light, a note book and the voices from the past. She did have a computer terminal upstairs, but she didn't use it that much. Apart from the lack of communication from Methos, she felt things couldn't be much better in her life for the moment, and was content. The hustle and bustle of normal Torchwood activity went on unchanged above her, so she didn't see much of the team except Ianto when he was attending to his archival duties. She virtually went for the whole day without thinking in English; Ianto often spoke Welsh to her and the manuscripts so far had all been in Latin or Greek. One day, she came across a manuscript that wasn't the usual Latin or Greek, and also wasn't on vellum or parchment…

"I don't believe it!" She didn't realise that she had said it aloud until a voice answered,

"Don't believe what?" Siannon nearly leapt right out of her chair when she heard the voice, she'd been so engrossed in the manuscript that she hadn't been aware of anyone else.

"Jack! I didn't know you were there. Come in, look at this…" Curious, Jack made his way to the desk, looking around the room as he did.

"It's a bit inhospitable down here, still. Can't we get you anything else?"

"It suits me. Now, what do you think of this." She passed him the manuscript in question.

"That looks like Egyptian Hieroglyphs."

"That's because it is Egyptian hieroglyphs, and it's on papyrus too. How the hell this has survived, I don't know." She carefully took the sheet of papyrus, still in its protective sheet, from Jack and laid it on the desk. He came to stand beside her.

"Can you read it?"

"I can't, but…"

"Methos can." Jack finished the sentence for her, and sighed. "By the time you get in touch with him the old guy's going to have a to-do list longer than mine."

"I know, frustrating isn't it? Still, he won't be hurried." She shrugged, as far as she was concerned Methos was more akin to a force of nature than anything else. "So, what can I do for you? I'm sure you didn't just come down for a visit, not that your company isn't appreciated of course." She smiled at Jack.

"And why wouldn't I want to come and visit? We barely know you're in Torchwood, hiding away down here. Actually, I wanted to bring you something that might help, as well as knowing how you were getting on." He placed an object on the desk in front of her.

"What the hell is *that*? No don't tell me, some sort of scanner."

"That's right. But the beauty of this baby is that it can scan an entire document, an entire book even, at the touch of a button almost instantaneously. Even more importantly you can then recall that file and study it later. I thought you might find it helpful, plus you wouldn't need to spend so much of your time down here." Siannon gingerly picked up the device to examine it. Jack indicated how she was to use it. "Go on, try it." Without further encouragement, she scanned the papyrus sheet. "Now you just press this button, here, and it will transmit the data. You do have a laptop down here don't you?" Siannon shook her head

"I've not needed one. I find that it's easier to translate something when I can actually hold it, almost as if the person who wrote it is standing there helping me with the translation. However, that thing will certainly help me when I'm struggling and I can see it will invaluable with those hieroglyphs, some of them look really strange and out of place."

"I thought you couldn't read it?"

"I can't, but I do have some knowledge of the alphabet used in this document, and that symbol there isn't in it." She pointed to the offending mark, an oblong shape, with further geometric shapes inside it and a small mark attached to the top, like the finial on a roof.

"I'll take your word for it. Anything interesting in the rest of this stuff?" He waved vaguely to the box at her side.

"I'm still at the scanning stage. I try and sort the manuscripts into types visually, then I quickly scan them to see if there is anything that I can pick out that is in common between them. So far the only thing that all these seem to mention is a blue box." Siannon didn't notice the way Jack's gaze seemed to bore into the side of her head. "See, here and here and here, the same words exactly to which the most literal translation is blue box. Now why the hell someone would be writing in Latin, and Greek for that matter, about a blue box I have no idea."

"I have." Jack replied in a strangled sounding voice. Siannon's head slewed round, so she was staring into Jack's eyes. The silence was deafening. She took a deep breath, and broke the spell.

"I don't suppose you'd care to explain, would you?" she asked. Jack nodded, but didn't start speaking immediately; instead he tried to collect the thoughts that had been scattered to the heavens.

"That blue box is possibly the reason why I am like I am. Remember I told you my friends abandoned me while they left in their spaceship?"

"Yeeees, but..."

"The ship was a blue box - on the outside anyway - and didn't just travel through space, but also through time. At the time those hieroglyphs were written I might have even been travelling with them!" He gazed at her, with the challenge to disagree with him sparkling unsaid in his eyes. She chose not to.

"Good job I'm still suspending my disbelief, otherwise I'd say you were talking twaddle."

"Twaddle?"

"Bunkum, codswallop, drivel…"

"Oh, you mean crap."

"Inelegant, but yes I mean crap. But then you aren't talking crap, are you?"

"Not one iota." She leaned back in the chair so she could see him better.

"Tell me one thing then; if you got back here in 1869, in what when did they leave you?"

"The 2002nd century."

"Wow. So you've jumped from the 51st century to the 21st via the 2002nd?"

"Petty much, though we stopped off at a couple of other centuries on the way…" She shook her head.

"No, can't deal with that. The thought of time travel makes my head hurt, you live your life linearly but zip around through history. No, no, no."

"How do you think I feel?"

"Oh Jack. I'm sorry, but…" the chair bounced back onto all 4 legs while Siannon buried her head in her arms and laughed. After a few moments he joined her, their laughter echoing round the room.

"I needed that." Jack commented, while Siannon was still trying to stifle the odd giggle.

"I think we both did. Friends still?" She stuck out her hand, Jack took it, but didn't let go once he'd shaken it.

"Sure. You know I did come down here for another reason."

"I knew you had an ulterior motive!"

"Well, kinda. It's sort of related to that blue box though. Since I… came back… I've been able to pass on some of that life-force to people who have been in need; the injured, the dying. Not enough to bring anyone back to life, but enough to keep them away from death, to give them a chance to fight for their life themselves. I thought… you've never been able to touch me with your Quickening have you?"

"No…" She had tried, on a number of occasions, but it was just like trying to touch a mortal; there was no response. She was either not old enough, good enough or there wasn't anything there to touch.

"Well, I thought, maybe I should try to touch you with my life-force, just to see what happens. It's not as if I can kill either of us, after all." She looked down at their still-joined hands. "Oh I'm not doing it now; you see there're a couple of things I need to tell you about it first." Siannon met Jack's eyes.

"It can't be anything that awful."

"I hope not." They shared a smile.

"So?"

"First thing, it might make us glow."

"Glow?"

"Yeah. So it's not something I can really do up there." He looked upwards.

"And down here we have a nice door and no cameras."

"Exactly." Jack let go of her hand and went to shut the door, she left the chair by the desk and stood waiting, just under the light. He moved close to her and took both her hands in his own.

"And the second thing?" She whispered. He was close enough that she could feel him breathing. He looked into her face, his eyes searching hers.

"Second thing is… I have to kiss you."

"Oh. That's not so bad."

"Siannon?" She nodded permission gently, unwilling to lose eye contact. She noticed there was already a faint glow suffusing the air around him as he leaned toward her and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss started off chaste and gentle, but as Jack deepened it she happily returned it in kind. The glow around Jack intensified; Siannon felt warmth, and a feeling of well being suffuse her entire body, emanating from the touch of Jack's mouth on hers. It was nothing like she'd ever felt before, and she began to lose herself in the kiss and the feeling it produced until… crack. The lightning bolt threw them apart, leaving them breathless and confused. They stood there panting for a moment, Siannon catching her breath first.

"Ouch! Whatever that was, it didn't agree with my Quickening. Sorry."

"Not as sorry as I am. You Ok?" She nodded.

"And you?"

"Yeah. Just a little…shaken." Jack put it on a mental list of things not to try with Methos; if he'd got a shock like that off a 1500 year old immortal, he certainly didn't want to try it on a 5000 year old one.

"Goodness only knows what you are, Jack Harkness, but I've never experienced anything like that in my life. Your immortality is just as much a mystery to me now as it was when I first met you." She glanced over at the desk, nothing had been disturbed. "I think I've had enough down here for one day - no offence meant."

"None taken." He picked up the scanner from the desk. "I'll show you how to upload this, so you can use it whenever you need to." Pausing to smile at her briefly, he made his way back to the door and held it open. "After You, Siannon." Behind them, the lights winked out.

~*~

On her way home, Siannon's phone began ringing, but the number only showed up as 'private'. She knew who she hoped it was, but one could never be certain. She answered tersely,

"O'Niall."

"Have you been in a cellar or something?" The familiar voice made her smile.

"Or something. Why, you elusive old git?"

"I've been trying to call you all day!"

"All day? Dagda's Balls! Spare me the bleeding heart story - I've been trying to get in touch for over a week!"

"I was busy."

"Well, you can just get unbusy. I've found myself in the middle of something you might find interesting."

"Oh? Tell me more."

"Not on the phone. You'll have to meet me."

"And where are you?"

"Cardiff."

"Cardiff? How the hell did you find something interesting in Cardiff?"

"You'd be surprised. So, are you going to meet me or not? The beer's not bad."

"I'll die of curiosity if I don't. I'll call you back." Without saying goodbye, Methos hung up. Siannon glared at the phone, though she was fairly pleased she'd got him to agree so readily to a meeting. Once he got to Cardiff, the hard work of persuading him to meet the Torchwood team would start…

~*~

The next morning, along with Ianto and the first coffee of the day, Siannon breezed into Jack's office wearing a huge smile.

"You look like the bearer of good news." Jack commented as he took his coffee from Ianto and sprawled in his chair, a study of nonchalance.

"Moderately so, I think." She carried on grinning. Ianto was almost bouncing with enthusiasm.

"You've found him haven't you? You finally got in touch with Methos."

"Close: he got in touch with me actually."

"And?" Ianto and Jack asked in unison.

"He'll arrive in Cardiff tomorrow afternoon; he has some loose ends to tie up first. I haven't told him about you lot yet, I thought it would be better to do that in person for any number of reasons. But…" a chuckle escaped her. "You'll never guess where he suggested we meet?"

"Not The Plass?" Ianto asked incredulously.

"Got it in one. And I'm presuming that means you'll be able to see him when he arrives."

"I'll keep an eye on the CCTV myself if needs be - they can make their own coffee for a change." He looked determined; Jack looked stricken.

"You wouldn't wish Owen's coffee on your poor old boss would you, Ianto?"

"You'll live. Not sure about the rest of us though… maybe I better bribe Tosh…" Ianto grinned at them both, and left, a little more quickly than usual.

"So, I'm finally going to see Methos, old Death himself. It's a strange feeling."

"Not half as strange as when you actually meet him. At least he doesn't have the white horse anymore..." She paused in thought for a second; "By the way, have you got a petty cash account?"

"Yeah, but…?"

"You're going to need beer. Lots of beer. Want to come shopping?"

"Now?" Siannon nodded as Jack quickly slurped the rest of his coffee.

"No time like the present. I've got to get stuff in too; he'll be staying with me the first couple of nights at least. You know the motto…Be Prepared…" she shrugged, the smile still firmly in place. Jack laughed, he didn't think his idea of being prepared was quite the same as hers. He decided to do some shopping for himself, but a little later and without company.

~*~

The next day dawned in typical Cardiff fashion, blustery and changeable. Siannon was very glad of the immortal penchant for long coats and boots; she would have frozen on the Plass wearing heels and a little black dress for although the weather had brightened later on in the day, the breeze still cut like a knife. Ianto had suggested she wait inside and keep an eye on the CCTV, only going out when she spotted him. She had refused, thinking it would be better if Methos could see her from a distance but that didn't stop her from regretting that decision. Regrets, and the weather, were forgotten as she felt the buzz tingle along her nerve endings. She wondered if he would he be pleased to see her, or grouchy because he'd been dragged away from whatever it was he was involved with; she was hoping for pleased. The buzz grew stronger, and she cast her eyes around, looking for another figure in a long coat as she walked into the centre of the Plass. They spotted each other about the same time; he raised his hand in a wave as she jogged toward him. They stopped a few feet apart from each other.

"Methos." She nodded, and smiled warily. He replied in kind.

"Siannon." Then his face was split by a huge grin. "Oh don't just stand there, come here and give me a hug." Without further ado, she complied.

"I've missed you, old friend," she whispered into his ear while they were pressed cheek to cheek. He stepped away from her, grasping her shoulders in both hands and looking her up and down with a happy smile on his face.

"Funnily enough, I've missed you too. Old habits… I'm glad you've let your hair grow again, I like it much better long."

"While you look like a birds nest as usual."

"What do you expect, it's windy."

"This is Cardiff, it's always windy."

"I suppose. Now are you going to leave an old man perishing of thirst out here?"

"Not in the slightest." She stepped up to him to hook her arm round his and dragged him in the direction of the Bay. "You have a choice: my place, takeaway and beer or pub, pub grub and beer."

"Both, but I'll start with the pub." She smiled up into his eyes, and patted his arm.

"I have just the place in mind."

~*~

"That seemed to go all right." Ianto commented, half watching the CCTV footage of Siannon and Methos walking away from the Plass, half watching the man perched next to him on his desk. Jack, smiled tightly.

"Yeah, it did. So Far so Good I suppose."

"But?"

"What the hell did they say to each other?" Jack grinned. "What do you say to a 5000 year old guy you haven't seen for 10 years?"

"From what Siannon's been saying about him it was probably 'shall we go and have a beer?' or something like that."

"Ianto, you've got no imagination."

"Oh, I've plenty of imagination, sir. I just keep it in a box where no-one can see it, and only let it out to play on moonless nights." Jack raised an eyebrow, and checked his wrist device.

"Damn, we got a new moon last night. Looks like I'll have to wait a month."

"I'm sure you'll think of something." Ianto managed to keep a straight face, even though he felt like hooting with laughter inside.

"Probably." Jack turned to the screen, just in time to see the other 2 immortals disappearing into a pub. "But not tonight." He eased off the desk, giving Ianto a pat on the shoulder. "Oh well, duty calls, see you later Ianto."

"With Coffee; I think the others might need it." Jack threw him a grateful smile from the door before he disappeared back into the Hub.

~*~

Ensconced in a cosy little pub that Siannon had discovered by pure happenstance, she and Methos both felt a lot more comfortable, particularly after the bar's special late lunch and a couple of pints. Methos stretched out with a happy sigh, he did like the simple pleasures in life.

"So, what is so interesting in Cardiff that you had to drag me here?"

"I'm not sure you'll believe me."

"Hey, I've been around you know, seen lots of things."

"That's why I asked you to come down to meet me, but I'm still not sure how to say this."

"How about bluntly, you can usually manage that." There was a half smile playing around his mouth, and Siannon wondered which one of their 'discussions' he was remembering.

"Blunt it is." She took a deep breath. "Cardiff sits on a rift in time and space, which is being monitored by an organisation called Torchwood." If she'd been hoping for surprise she would have been disappointed, but she knew her friend too well. Methos rolled his eyes.

"Bloody Torchwood. Bunch of incompetents."

"You know about them then?"

"Of course I know about them; I could hardly miss knowing about an organisation responsible for dropping an army of psychotic peppershakers and Metropolis rejects right over my head. Had the museum in uproar, and we lost some irreplaceable stuff as well."

"Which you look far too pleased about…"

"I'm an opportunist; it was dangerous stuff, needed to be removed."

"In other words it mentioned you. Just what were you doing in a museum?" She raised her hand to forestall Methos' answer. "No, don't tell me just yet, we can play catch-up later." She took a hasty swig of her pint. "Right, I need to tell you about Torchwood in Cardiff; they're made of different stuff than the Canary Wharf lot from what I've been able to gather."

"They'd have to be. How did you stumble across them?"

"They stumbled across me, or more accurately the body of the head-hunter who found me here…" Siannon told him about the Weevils, of meeting Jack Harkness and the final, fatal weevil attack that night.

"I bet Torchwood weren't very happy with you. Unless… he's one of us isn't he?"

"Not exactly."

"How can you be not exactly an immortal? You either are or you aren't."

"Oh he's immortal all right; he's just not one of us."

"Ah. So you fancied getting an opinion off someone with a bit more experience?"

"Pretty much. That isn't the only thing though."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of this. Go on."

"Their chief archivist is an ex-Watcher."

"How ex?"

"They think he's dead at Canary Wharf; he'd been placed in Torchwood by the Watchers, but after the battle he cut his losses and ran, got rid of the tattoo, and basically just disappeared off the Watcher radar. He's Welsh, nice boy. Good taste in suits."

"So, does Torchwood know it has an immortal in its ranks? Or a Watcher?"

"Apart from Ianto, and one other team member, no-one knows Jack Harkness is immortal. And that's not all…"

"There's more? You certainly did find something interesting."

"Jack's from the 51st century."

"You're kidding me, right?" Siannon shook her head. Methos frowned at her.
"There's an immortal guy from the future working for Torchwood?" She nodded.
"I can't believe it, this is straight out of a pulp novel… hang on a minute though… he didn't mention a guy called The Doctor did he?"

"The Doctor? No, I'm sure I'd remember that. Who the hell is the Doctor?"

"Guy I knew once; lives in a blue box. Travels a lot."

"What?! Lives in A Blue Box?"

"That's what I said."

"You are going to pay a visit to the Torchwood archives with me and help me with some translations."

"Right now? I haven't even finished my drink!"

"No, I'm not that mean; tomorrow will do. The Mystery has waited this long, it can last another day. Anyway, there's one last thing." She bit her lip, this was what she wasn't looking forward to.

"What have you done now?" Methos didn't sound too worried, more exasperated, so she gave him a half hopeful, half rueful smile.

"I messed up. Jack and Ianto know who you really are. The 3 others have no idea."

"Really." Knowing how glacial Methos could sound when he was angry, made the slightly frosty tone of voice much less intimidating to her.

"I'm sorry." She looked into his eyes with more than a hint of guilt; she'd been careless, teasing Jack the way she had, knowing that Ianto had been a Watcher. Methos sighed.

"It's OK, somehow I don't think it's going to matter too much; they're going to be an awful lot more worried about somebody finding about them, than wondering if some strange guy is really 5000 years old. At least I'm assuming you want me to meet them."

"That was the general idea, though it's actually more important to Jack. He really doesn't have a handle on his immortality, and if there's one person on the planet who can say 'Been there, done that, got the t-shirt, written the book' it's you. If you can't help him, no-one can."

"Give me one good reason why I should?"

"Oh that's easy: he's cute. Seriously cute." She grinned.

"Good enough." Methos laughed. "You know me too well."

"Only in some ways. I don't even know what name you're using at the moment!"

"Oh, I never introduced myself did I?" Methos leaned over the table and stuck out his hand, Siannon took it with a smile. "I'm Dr Adam Pierson, Egyptologist. Pleased to meet you."

"Same name? You surprise me." She released his hand slowly.

"Well you haven't changed yours, have you Siannon O'Niall?"

"No, but women can hide 10 years of aging under make up. Men don't."

"Can't see why, I looked very fetching in kohl back in the days…"

"I'm sure you still would, but that doesn't explain why you're still Adam Pierson when you've always been so careful."

"At the moment, I'm explaining it away with good genes. In 10 years or so I suppose I'll have to meet with an accident or become a recluse. I felt Adam's history of studying ancient manuscripts would sit well with branching out into another area."

"Egyptology." She commented. Methos inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"I have gained a reputation in some circles for being a bit of a genius with Middle and New Kingdom hieroglyphs."

"That's cheating."

"No more than you being an Oġam reader."

"Point taken." She stopped to take a swig of her pint, noticed it was nearly empty. "Fancy another?"

"If you're buying, yes. This stuff," he hefted his own almost empty glass of Brains, "Isn't bad at all." She meandered over to the bar, thankful that she'd got off so lightly and decided to get seriously drunk. Methos drank beer like water and would remain functional long past the point that she did, so he could look after them both. They would just have to pick up his car in the morning, and maybe she better tell him her address sooner rather than later…

~*~

Siannon woke with a groan, barely cracking her eyelids. The light was far brighter than it had any right to be. Last night had seemed like such a good idea at the time… her eyes flew open as she remembered what else had seemed like a good idea. There was a mischievous sparkle in the hazel eyes that lay across the pillow from her.

"Khai're," said Methos and kissed her forehead. She smiled wanly back at him, but didn't have the courage to try her own voice out, and certainly didn't have the concentration to try and remember ancient Greek. Thankfully he continued in English; "Go and have a shower, I'll make coffee." That, she thought, was a very good idea and proceeded to take care of her half of the bargain.

Emerging from the bathroom she was assailed by the smell of fresh coffee, which was all she needed to finally blow the last of the cobwebs away; that and the vision of Methos in her green silk robe. She giggled, it didn't leave a lot to the imagination.

"Oh, very decadent I must say," she said. Methos struck a pose, and pouted. "Oh stop it, you daft pillock. Coffee?"

"You're no fun any more." Methos flounced around the kitchen area, and then approached with mug in hand. She gratefully accepted it, inhaling the aroma deeply before taking a careful sip. Methos used to make coffee scalding rather than warm, and a burnt mouth still hurt even if it healed almost instantly. She smiled in appreciation.

"That's perfect. I think you could give Ianto a run for his money."

"I thought he was Chief Archivist?"

"He's also chief cook and bottle washer, and no-one else in the team can make coffee like him. He's not so good with tea though, you'd need to get Tosh to do that."

"I'm looking forward to meeting this Welsh paragon."

"Funnily enough, the feeling seems to be mutual. Though I think he'd change his mind if he could see you dressed like that. Where did you say your car was again? I'll go and liberate it and get you some clothes."

~*~

A while later, Siannon led the way to the hub. Methos looked around with a lot more interest than he'd shown the day before.

"So, where is the Torchwood base?" He asked eventually.

"Down there." She indicated the ground underneath them. "They call it The Hub, and it makes use of part of a private railway system that was built by The Victorians; no longer in use I hasten to add, otherwise it'd be a bit damn noisy down there. And that is the way in." She indicated in the direction of the slightly dilapidated Tourist Information office tucked away in an inconspicuous corner.

"So who gets the job of looking after that?"

"Our Welsh Paragon, of course. I'm willing to bet that Jack will be there watching the door today so you'll get to meet the two who know who you really are before you meet the others. Everyone will know we're here though; we've probably been on the CCTV for the last 5 minutes."

"Nosy buggers." He grabbed her hand and spun her toward him. "We can always give them something to look at." She laughed up at him.

"No we can't. Now come on." With Methos' hand still wrapped around hers she playfully hauled him in the right direction. They burst through the door of the tourist information office with a complete lack of decorum and more than a few giggles. Siannon had been right, both Ianto and Jack were in the main area; Ianto behind the desk and Jack leaning casually against it. Jack detached himself from the desk and approached the new arrivals, his face wreathed in its best charming smile, hand extended in greeting.

"I'm Captain Jack Harkness. You must be Methos."

"That's me. Though I'm known as Adam Pierson at present." Their hands remained clasped longer than a quick handshake required, as if each were trying to weigh up the other purely through touch.

"Adam." Jack seemed to savour the name as he spoke it. "It is kind of appropriate, I guess." He gestured toward Ianto. "This is Ianto Jones, our chief archivist and the man who keeps Torchwood's body and soul together."

"The Watcher?" Methos asked. Ianto pushed his sleeve up to show the scar on his arm.

"Ex-Watcher, please, if you don't mind." He replied. "That part of my life is over. Well over." Methos smiled wryly at him.

"In that case, I'm pleased to meet you Ianto Jones." He leaned over the desk to shake Ianto's hand. Straightening up, he looked back toward Jack. "And when do I get to see the rest of this place? It's very cosy up here, but it lacks a certain ambience, if you know what I mean."

"I think that's an unsubtle hint, Jack." Siannon chuckled.

"You know, you may be right." Jack nodded at Ianto who pressed the button to open the door to the Hub, then indicated Methos to precede him. "After you, Adam, I'll show you round the place."
Just before Methos went through the door he turned to look back at Siannon, with an impish smile on his face.

"You weren't kidding were you?" He said, before disappearing through the door. Jack also looked at Siannon, who shrugged while trying to look innocent, he shook his head with a smile of his own and followed Methos. As the door swung shut behind them, Siannon turned to face Ianto, who was looking rather thunderstruck.

"Well? What do you think of him?"

"He might be 5000 years old, but at the end of the day he seems to be just an ordinary guy."

"I know, infuriating isn't it?" They both burst out laughing, only to be interrupted by the door opening, and a rather lost looking person wandering in. Ianto was instantly all professionalism, while Siannon was still trying to stifle her giggles. She muttered an 'excuse me' to the customer and disappeared into the refuge of Ianto's office, barely listening to the rise and fall of the conversation on the other side of the curtain as she managed to get her laughter under control. She heard the external door open and close again, and then Ianto entered the office.

"I've closed the place down for the rest of the day, otherwise I'll go mad wanting to know what's going on downstairs."

"You and me both, Ianto." Together they made their own way down to the Hub.

~*~

As Methos and Jack walked along the corridor to the lift, Methos shoved his hands into the pocket of his coat and glanced across at Jack.

"So, Captain Jack Harkness, Siannon tells me that you're from the 51st century."

"That's right."

"And you can't die."

"Nope. Well, I suppose technically I do, I just don't stay that way. It's not pleasant being dead."

"There's an understatement if ever I heard one. She was right though, you are an anomaly; I can't pick anything up from you either. To immortals like us, you feel just like an ordinary human. But you're not, though, are you."

"I'd say I was pretty damn normal for a 51st century guy, apart from the obvious."

"And there's the rub. Just why are you immortal?"

"Isn't that what you're here for? To help me find out?"

"Amongst other things, yes."

"Oh? What other things?"

"You'll see." The smile Methos gave Jack was effortlessly enigmatic. He stopped, and leaned against the wall. "Oh and one thing Jack; don't forget I've lived every single one of my years. I know when people are lying to me."

"But I wasn't…"

"Not this time, no; but you would have at some point."

"I don't lie; I'm just a little creative with the truth at times." Methos said nothing, but his gaze pierced Jack's like a knife, slicing away at the layers of secrets between them. "Ok, ok. So I have been known to tell the odd lie, but it's generally only to protect people. Recently, at least." Jack shrugged. "There're a few things in my past I'm not too proud about, but then you'd know how that feels." Methos acknowledged that with a nod, before continuing,

"Whether you're protecting people or not, I just wanted to save you from wasting your time. Time is precious, even to immortals. Or should that be especially to immortals…never mind, doesn't really matter." He eased away from the wall and continued walking briskly down the corridor, meaning Jack had to lengthen his stride to catch back up again. Jack couldn't be sure but he thought he heard Methos muttering something about boy scouts under his breath, which made no sense whatsoever. Methos had come to a stop at the end of the corridor by the lift, the wall at his back. Jack, feeling more than a little exasperated with Methos intentionally invaded his personal space, one hand on the wall next to him.

"Do you have a problem?" He asked, bluntly. Methos looked at the hand, then up at its owner, with a wry smile.

"Not with you. But you do remind me of someone at times and that's a little… uncanny shall we say, as you actually are nothing alike." Jack moved away and summoned the lift, accepting Methos' unspoken apology with the merest brush of his fingertips across the old immortal's shoulder.

~*~

Methos was suitably impressed by The Hub, particularly after Myfanwy the Pterodactyl put in an appearance. He was still getting introduced to Toshiko, Gwen and Owen when Siannon and Ianto arrived. As they all moved further into the Hub, Owen gave Siannon a quick, enquiring glance; she shook her head. She felt that Methos was unlikely to agree to being an experimental subject, and she certainly did not want to be the person to ask him. Owen looked sympathetic, but disappointed. Taking stock of the situation, Siannon gave Ianto a nudge.

"How about I help you with some coffee? Otherwise I'm not sure I'll survive the efforts of those two to out-charm each other."

"Coward."

"Indubitably. Do you really care?"

"No, and I would appreciate some help with the coffee."

"That means everyone's happy then." She followed Ianto to the kitchen area. "Er Ianto, did you ever get that beer in?"

"We have Cardiff's best."

"Brains?" Ianto nodded in reply, and asked

"Isn't it a bit early for beer though?"

"Not when you've lived through times when drinking the water would kill you." She smiled wistfully. "I always preferred mead, personally."

"I'm sure we can find some mead for you. There's a honey farm up Newquay way you know, they make all sorts of stuff."

"Find me some mead and I'll be your friend forever." Siannon sighed and Ianto laughed as he started to spoon out the coffee into the coffee-maker.

"Somehow when you say that it gives it new meaning."

"Be a good thing to remember then, wouldn't it?" Chuckling, they both turned to their respective tasks.

~*~

Jack led the way into his office, closing the doors after them, though he didn't lower the blinds.

"Welcome to my domain. It's not much compared to the rest of the place, but it's mine. And Myfanwy can't get in here to steal my things."

"The pterodactyl steals things?"

"Yeah, think she must have talked to the local magpies before she ate them. Anything shiny left out when there's no-one else around is fair game. It's why we have a system that keeps her nest closed off from the rest of the hub at night."

"I suppose I'd better watch where I put my sword then."

"Maybe you should." Jack sprawled into his own chair and waved Methos into the comfy chair that seemed to have taken up residence to one side of his desk at some point. Methos hung up his coat on the stand with Jack's greatcoat before folding into the chair as if it had been made for him. He hooked his legs over one arm, tilting his head back to look at Jack.

"You don't know what to say to me do you? Not really."

"I can think of lots of things I'd like to say, just not the way I want to say them."

"Jack, I may be 5000 years old, but I'm just a guy. We can talk about life, the universe and everything. I don't think there's anything I couldn't at least attempt to have a conversation about."

"Oh the voice of experience…"

"You said it." Their banter was interrupted by Ianto with coffee, and beer for Methos.

"Why don't you ever bring me beer?" asked Jack.

"You don't usually touch the stuff, sir."

"Whereas I do." Methos righted himself in the chair so he could reach his drink. "Brains, and a glass. How civilised, some people expect me to drink straight out of the bottle. Diolch yn fawr." Methos got a smile in reply, as Ianto turned to leave. "Ianto?" Methos raised his bottle, "Iechyd da!" There was a sigh from Jack's direction as he frowned into his coffee.

"I think I need to spend more time with Tosh and Owen, at least they don't speak in languages I don't understand."

"Stop moaning. You're based in Wales, learn the bloody language. You never know it might come in useful and you can't say you're never going to have time. I've forgotten more languages than most people have heard of."

"Time was I didn't need to worry about that sort of thing."

"Don't tell me the Universal Translator exists in the future?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what?"

"It's kind of difficult to explain."

"Try me. We've got all the time we need after all…"

"If I told you I'd travelled on a telepathic space-ship what would you say?" Methos carefully put his beer down on the table.

"Telepathic?"

"Yes."

"Travels in time?"

"Er, yes, but…"

"I'd say you've been in a TARDIS." Jack nearly choked on his coffee, and managed to slop a fair amount over the side of the cup as he tried to put it down. Luckily he didn't have any important paperwork on there. He put both hands on the desk, still spluttering slightly, and was rather irked to find a huge grin on Methos' face.

"What?" he growled

"TARDIS - time and relative dimension in space." Methos leaned back in his chair and put his feet on Jack's desk. "Looks like a blue 1950s police box from the outside. Owned by a bloke called the Doctor."

"Just when did you meet the Doctor? And why did he never tell me there were immortals wandering around on earth, chopping each others heads off?"

"Ah, I thought you might have been a friend of his. I just happened to bump into him in Egypt sometime and then again in Greece. Confused the hell out of me at the time, until he took me aboard the old girl and we had a chat. And a beer. He doesn't particularly like immortals; we upset his sense of propriety, though I think he was pleased in a way to meet someone older than him. And as for not telling you about us, it wasn't his place. We like our privacy, and we like to chose who we tell about ourselves very carefully. Some of us more carefully than others, I have to admit."

"I can imagine." Jack took another sip of coffee, this time without choking, while Methos removed his feet from the desk, and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"You know, I'm surprised the Doctor didn't pop up during that fiasco your lot in London caused."

"He was there. If he hadn't been, there would be nothing left on this planet and we'd all be dead or worse." Methos noticed the increasing tension in Jack's voice, but didn't know the exact cause, though he could make a few assumptions.

"Worse?" He queried, losing the flippant overtone that had coloured his previous words; he'd managed to touch something that was of obvious significance, and not in a good way, without meaning to.

"Where do you think the cybermen got their troops? Mars? Not in this century…"

"Oh." He understood too well, though he had to admit there was a bit of a difference between the press-gangs of his past and being forced to lose your humanity.

"Yeah." Jack was no longer looking at Methos, he was trying not to see a laughing blonde-haired girl, trying not to imagine her imprisoned inside a cyber-exoskeleton. Trying and failing. He didn't have to try to imagine the anguish the Doctor must have felt at her loss, he felt it too. His eyes stung with unshed tears as he remembered, and tried not to. He almost jumped at the unexpected touch of a hand on his shoulder. Methos had left his chair and was crouched beside him, face full of sympathy and concern.

"Who did you lose?" He whispered.

"Rose…" Jack croaked. He pulled open one of the drawers and took out a photo; of a more carefree looking Jack, a young blonde woman with laughing brown eyes, and a familiar dark haired man with a face made of angles and ears to match, all standing in front of a 1950s police box.

"You travelled together."

"More than that. They were family; no, closer than family and they helped to make me who I am today."

"I'm sorry."

"And you know what the worst thing was? I was stuck here with a destabilizing rift and couldn't help them. If I'd been there she…" He broke off and buried his head in his hands. The hand on his shoulder became a pair of strong arms wrapped around him.

"I find it's the not knowing if you would have made a difference that cuts the deepest," Methos murmured into Jack's hair. "Not knowing, and then running over every possible outcome in your head again and again. I try to let it all flow past me, but sometimes… sometimes standing by just isn't enough."

"Now who's the boy scout?" Jack's voice was still muffled, but sounded more normal. Methos moved away, and stood up, perching on the desk in front of Jack, careful not to spill the remainder of the coffee or squash the obviously precious photograph. He watched Jack pull himself back together, rubbing his hands over his face, through his hair, and at last pick up the photo. "Rose's mother took this. She's missing too."

"The cybermen came from a parallel world didn't they?"

"As far as I know, yes."

"Then couldn't your Rose and her mum be in that world and not dead at all?"

"Possibly."

"Then cling to that, you never know it might be true. Anything's possible where the Doctor's concerned; I mean, look at you, Mr. Immortal 51st century guy…"

"It won't have been him who made me like this; he wouldn't be so cruel."

"No, he wouldn't..." The Doctor Methos had known could be ruthless at times, but was never intentionally cruel. He might not have been human, but he tried to understand humanity with all its quirks and differences. However, he had a partner that probably didn't. "...but it could have been the ship."

"The TARDIS? How?" Jack had long suspected that the TARDIS had something to do with his immortality, but not that she'd been fully responsible. It just did not seem possible.

"I bet she liked you." There was a hint of a smile on Methos' face that Jack chose not to interpret.

"I tinkered some; it seemed to help things run smoothly."

"She liked you. Tell me, did you ever see the power of the Time Vortex released?" The sudden change in direction of the conversation made Jack instantly wary, but he answered truthfully.

"Once. The TARDIS helped an alien regress back to an egg to enable it to make a new start. Wait a minute, are you implying…"

"That the TARDIS brought you back the first time? Yes. Something must have happened to interfere though as she would never have made you truly immortal. Long-lived, maybe; but not immortal. I don't suppose I'll ever find out though." Jack mentally kicked himself as the information that had been available to him all along, suddenly clicked into place and made sense. He'd only needed nearly 140 years and a meeting with the oldest person on the planet to make him see the obvious. He let out an exasperated sigh.

"Don't worry, if I ever find out, I'll look you up and tell you; even if it is in fifty years." It was at that point that the fact that he wasn't completely alone in his immortality sunk in, another revelation just sliding into place. The others may not be exactly like him, but at least they were friends that he could keep, that he wouldn't have to watch age and die while he stayed young. Methos saw the light dawn in Jack's eyes, the realization that he truly wasn't alone, and wouldn't be as long as immortals like Siannon and Methos walked the earth.

"You've finally accepted it, haven't you? Welcome to the club." He reached out and patted Jack's shoulder, then slid off the desk and wandered out of the office to find Siannon, and the archives. Jack leaned back in his chair and watched him, unable to tear his eyes away from the old immortal who saw too much, wondering just how close he would be allowed to get.

~*~

Methos puttered around the hub for a bit, generally being nosy and asking questions, but also ensuring he was visible for a while. Eventually he cornered Ianto in the kitchen and asked about the archives.

"Siannon said she had something she wanted me to look at that she couldn't translate." He explained. Ianto smiled

"That will be our hieroglyphs, I suppose. She seems to be managing fine with the Latin and Greek."

"I should think she would be fine with Greek, I taught her to read it after all." Ianto's smile became wider.

"I believe she may have mentioned that." Methos had the grace to look slightly worried. "Oh, she only said it in passing, apparently. No trade secrets given away that I know about anyway. Come on, I'll show you where she hides herself most of the time."

~*~

Down in the archive area, Methos let out a low whistle of surprise.

"I didn't think it would be so big."

"That's one of the strong points of Torchwood Cardiff; it's comprehensive archive. Pity we don't have a catalogue to match, but we're working on that."

"I think I'd be quite happy down here." Methos slowly walked down the corridor, looking around him with a contented smile on his face.

"Is that an Immortal thing? Siannon seems to love working down here to the extent that we barely know she's around."

"I think some of us older ones are like that, but it's a personality thing mostly. I bet no-one knows this place like you do, and you get annoyed when people mess around down here without asking you first." Ianto chuckled.

"Guilty as charged. The others don't seem to have the respect that the archives deserve."

"Sounds like you love working down here too."

"When I get the chance; this is Torchwood after all so chasing general weirdness and aliens, and then cleaning up after them, takes priority. Maybe I should have been a librarian instead."

"Or stuck to being a Watcher. They have some pretty interesting archives; I should know after all."

"No. I'm well out of that. Give me aliens any day." They continued down the corridor, drawing closer to the one door that was open, and had light spilling through the gap. Ianto could see Siannon poring over the documents, seemingly unaware that anyone had arrived, though she must have felt the buzz from Methos as they approached. He knocked on the door frame, "Anyone home?" She glanced up with a smile,

"Depends."

"I have coffee." He lifted the insulated mug he'd brought down from the Hub. "And company."

"In that case, come in. I'm surprised you managed to persuade Adam to come down so soon." She carefully took the cup from Ianto and sipped gratefully, grinning as she watched Methos stare at the racks and shelves around them.

"No persuasion needed, he asked. I can see why…"

"Happy as a pig in muck. Like me, I suppose. Could you do me a favour, Ianto?"

"If I can."

"Find him," she waved in Methos' direction, "Somewhere to stay. He needs a place of his own, rather than bunking with me."

"Hey, my feet don't smell that much!" Ianto hid a grin at the pitiful expression on the old immortal's face. Siannon rolled her eyes.

"Yes they do. So, hotel or short term rent?" Methos wandered over to Siannon's desk.

"Umm, I hadn't really thought about it."

"Well you aren't staying with me for another night."

"Spoilsport."

"I need my sleep. Your snoring would wake the dead."

"My snoring? What about you grinding your teeth?" Ianto gradually backed away to stand by the door frame, unsure whether the bickering would stay friendly or not. After all, he didn't know the history between the 2 immortals, beyond what they had told him which was not a hell of a lot he had to admit.

"I don't grind my teeth. Or I never used to, must have been annoyed with you last night."

"Oh terribly annoyed." They both burst out laughing.

"Adam, you are dreadful."

"And you're mean."

"Live with it. Hotel or short term rent?"

"Short term rent." He looked over to Ianto "If that's OK by you, Ianto."

"It's fine. I have just the place in mind; in the Brewery Quarter." Both Siannon and Methos watched Ianto make his escape, shared a smile. She sighed.

"He's a nice lad."

"Seems to be."

"Don't break his heart then, will you."

"I don't intend to. Why should I?"

"Jack."

"Ah."

"Mind you, I'm not sure he knows how he feels himself yet. There was a 'situation' he was heavily involved in not long back that everyone is very careful not to mention in front of me, and they have covered up whatever it was very well. Plenty of practice at covering things up, I suppose. Whatever happens between you and Jack, I'm sure Ianto will survive."

"And that is your real reason for chucking me out."

"I saw how you looked at each other. I am not having you and Jack Harkness in my house… unless I'm invited to join the fun."

"We're not quite up to that stage yet. He hasn't even kissed me."

"You're losing your touch, old man. Even I've managed to get snogged by the good Captain and he knows I'm not particularly interested. You have some catching up to do."

"I'm sure I'll manage. We have the emotional baggage removal to see to first. Now, what did you want me down here for?" He perched on her desk, as she bent to rummage around in a box near her feet.

"This." She said, passing the papyrus document to him. He held it closer to the light and peered at it for a few moments. Then he let out a bark of laughter.

"I don't believe it!"

"Believe what? And what's so funny?"

"This is one of mine." He waved the document in the air. "Oh this particular document is a Ptolemaic copy, but the original was written by me. I wonder how Torchwood managed to get hold of it, though I know why it ended up here."

"Would you care to enlighten me? That thing's been bugging me for days."

"It's about The Doctor, and his TARDIS."

"TARDIS?"

"It looks like a blue box, a 1950s police box to exact. And the Doctor is a friend of Jack's, though I've met him a few times myself. If I'm right, I wrote this not long after I'd met him the first time."

"This is why you asked me if Jack had ever mentioned him. Time travel. Ugh."

"Isn't that a bit hypocritical?"

"At least we only go in one direction, and we don't just bounce around willy-nilly. If you're right, it sheds light on the rest of this stuff too."

"There's more?"

"No more hieroglyphs, but plenty in Latin and Greek and all mentioning the Doctor and a blue box. Nothing that I recognize as your writing, though most of it is actually copies of earlier documents, like that one."

"Let me see." He placed the document with the hieroglyphs to one side and riffled through the pile that Siannon passed to him. "Nope, none of this is mine. Looks like the Doctor has had his own collection of Watchers through time, though. Interesting. Just how long has Torchwood been in existence again?"

"Since 1879. If you look at when the majority were written, you'll find that there isn't much that can be dated after the mid-1600s."

"That implies that whatever organisation there was, it collapsed mid 17th century. I don't suppose we'll ever know whether it was due to the British civil war, the Black Death, the Great Fire of London or what. Now this is where a time machine would come in useful..."

"Don't start, even if I do agree with you. Knowledge is power, and all that."

"So you were listening, some of the time at least."

"Some of the time." She pushed her chair back. "Seeing as you've helped solve my little mystery, shall I take you shopping so you can get your new place stocked up?"

"Why not?" He held his arm out to Siannon, who took it with a smile and a bobbed curtsey. Arm in arm they made their way back up to the hub.

~*~

"This place isn't bad." Methos was standing in the middle of the apartment, slowly turning and looking around him while Siannon did the important job of stashing his beer supply in the fridge.

"Would you expect anything less of Ianto?"

"From what I know of him; no. Here, chuck me one of those." Siannon obliged and threw him a can, which he caught one-handed. He didn't open it immediately but started prowling round, looking into all the nooks and crannies and testing the bounce of the bed. Siannon put the kettle on for coffee, watching him with a smile on her face.

"Last time I was here, this place was still a brewery. I like what they've done with it, and it does seem an appropriate place for you to stay. "

"Pity we don't get the beer with the flat."

"Can't have everything." She made her coffee, and continued putting the shopping away while Methos moved his bags from the middle of the living area to the middle of the bedroom, which for him counted as unpacking, before coming to help Siannon. They were soon finished. She sighed, and looked round critically. "Still doesn't look much like a love-nest." Methos choked on his beer.

"It's not supposed to be."

"So you aren't intending to seduce Jack Harkness, bring him back here and bonk his brains out?"

"I didn't say that. And anyway, the seduction could well be mutual. We'll just have to see, it's early days yet."

"So not tonight then." She ducked the empty beer can that Methos threw at her and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Don't start throwing things at me again, remember what happened last time."

"That was over 100 years ago!"

"I have a long memory."

"You deserved it."

"Now that is up for debate."

"And you said you'd forgiven me."

"I did, but I never mentioned the forgetting bit did I?"

"You're a monster."

"And you're incorrigible."

"Maybe." He grinned. Sometimes they brought out the most childish aspects of the other, but it was comfortable bickering, like a pair of old socks. "Have I got time for another beer before we go back?" She checked her watch.

"You might, but I haven't. I need to get back and finish off my work for today. You can always stay here and get settled in."

"I'd rather keep you company."

"And ogle Jack's behind?"

"Actually I was thinking more along the lines of ogling those old manuscripts."

"Poor Jack, deserted for a pile of mouldy old documents. Don't forget he's actually older than me in terms of birth date, even if it is backwards."

"I hadn't. It's something I fully intend to ah.... explore... sometime."

"I bet it is." She rinsed her cup out. "Let's go then, Dr Livingstone."

~*~

To make things easier for them both, Siannon actually made use of the scanner Jack had given her and copied the bulk of what she had been working on that day onto her computer terminal, which she then crowded round with Methos. This gave everyone the advantage of getting used to his presence without him having to say anything to the rest of the team. They got so absorbed in the work that they forgot about the other people in the hub for a while, until Ianto shoved 2 cups of coffee in front of them. Siannon absently thanked him, but when he didn't move she switched her concentration from the screen to him.

"Is there a problem, Ianto?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what?"

"Did you know you were arguing in Greek?"

"Greek?"

"I'm assuming it was Greek; it could have been anything. It certainly wasn't Welsh, Japanese or English." Siannon and Methos turned to each other and mentally reviewed their conversation. They both grinned sheepishly.

"I suppose we were," she commented. Methos kicked his chair back from the desk..

"I get it, you're all dying to know what the hell we were going on about, and Ianto gets the short straw."

"He volunteered, actually," offered Gwen from her own workstation.

"There's only one slight problem..." Siannon said.

"And what would that be?"

"Ianto, I can't remember what the hell I was waffling on about!" She glanced at Methos. "Adam?"

"Neither can I. Probably our usual rubbish - though we have almost finished the Greek translations now, so some of it was useful." Methos stretched, catlike, in his chair before picking up his coffee. Siannon grinned at Ianto before she grabbed her own.

"Just how many languages do you speak?" Tosh wandered over from her own station.

"Currently?" Tosh nodded. "ummmm about 7 fluently I think, and a smattering of a few more. Japanese isn't one of them." Tosh turned to Methos.

"How about you, Adam?"

"I lose count around 18. And a big chunk of them are ones that people no longer speak. That's the joy of being a historian, you can insult people in something that they've no chance of understanding." He then added in Japanese "I am sure you know that." Tosh giggled, and turned away before she could give herself away further.

"You're all bilingual then?" Siannon asked.

"Except Owen," said Ianto, indicating the approaching Doctor.

"Oi, I resent that. I speak jargon I'll have you know. Can't get anywhere in the Medical Profession without it." Siannon caught Owen's eyes and dissolved into fits of giggles, closely followed by Methos and the rest of the team. Jack by this point had noticed the disturbance in the main part of the hub from his office and came out to investigate.

"I do hope you realise I don't pay you enough for you to enjoy yourselves." The deadpan voice was offset by the twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. "No hilarity allowed, except by permission."

"Permission to laugh, sir?" Ianto could barely speak through his giggles, and Gwen's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head.

"Granted." Jack grinned at them all, but focused on Methos, as he seemed the most restrained of them all. "Just what was so funny anyway? What did I miss?" Methos leaned toward him and whispered,

"You want the truth?" Jack nodded. "I have absolutely no bloody idea!"

"Sounds about right for this place." Jack looked at the time, then at the rest of the team. "If you're all done, you can get out of here early for a change." There was a mad scramble for bags and coats from the women and Owen. They'd learned not to linger too long when Jack said that, in case the situation called for him changing his mind. In less than 5 minutes the only residents of the hub were Jack, the 2 immortals, Ianto and the pterodactyl.

"If you're sure, sir?"

"I'm sure, Ianto. You never get out of here on time, never mind early. Go on, do yourself a favour." He clasped Ianto's shoulder, and gently pushed him in the direction of the door. "I can manage to tie up any loose ends with these 2 to help me."

"In that case..." Ianto made for the entrance at a more sedate pace than the others had, and turned to wave as he waited for the door to roll out of the way. "Have fun!" The door clanged shut behind him.

Just as the door closed, an almighty shriek-squawk reverberated around the hub

"Shit, I knew I'd forgotten something." Jack cast a wary eye to the upper reaches of the hub. "She's been weird with me since... well never mind. Who wants to learn how to feed a pterodactyl?" Methos hunched his shoulders in an effort to look inconspicuous, and wished he was still wearing his coat. Learning how to deal with carnivorous flying dinosaurs was not high on his to-do list. Thankfully he had a saviour in the form of Siannon.

"I'll get her settled; Ianto and Tosh showed me what to do." She was met with 2 incredulous stares. She glared back. "Poor thing, how would you feel if you were stuck here away from the rest of your kind? I think she's rather sweet." Methos shook his head in astonishment.

"You think that is sweet? She could rip your head off with those jaws."

"No she couldn't, she's not a crocodile you know. And if she does take a chunk out of me at least it'll heal up quick." Siannon disappeared off to the area where Myfanwy's food was kept without further ado. Jack watched her go with a slightly bemused smile.

"Your friend is crazy."

"My friend? You gave her a job here, so who's the crazy one?"

"We're all a little crazy here; there's a saying could have been made for us. Should have been the Torchwood motto."

"What are you on about?"

"You don't have to mad to work here, but it helps."

"Ah, that saying. From what I've seen you're not far wrong, still they seem to be a good crowd. Even Owen." Jack smiled.

"They are a good crowd, I'm very proud of them. Come on, do you want to do the rounds with me? We'll avoid dinner time if you do."

"In that case, lead on."

Doing the rounds with Jack involved going into areas of the base where Methos hadn't been yet as Jack checked up that everything was secure for the night. He was in an expansive mood, and Methos learned a lot about the team and Torchwood in general as they walked the darkened corridors; their conversation flowing easily, with no hint of Jack's normal flirtatiousness. Methos didn't know whether to be pleased or disappointed; he decided on pleased as Jack was an easy person to talk to even when he wasn't laying on the charm and it was good to just talk, and nothing else. When they returned to the main area, Siannon had already dimmed the lights. She was sitting at her terminal, typing a few last lines before she left. As they reached her, she shut down her computer and turned to face them.

"Myfanwy's all settled down for the night, and the shield is on. Anything else?"

"No, everything's fine. You go home, too."

"Adam?" Methos shook his head.

"Think I'll stay for a bit, if that's OK with Jack."

"I'll enjoy the company." He smiled at Methos.

"I'll scarper then." She said. "Late night yesterday..." She grinned impishly, kissed Methos on the cheek and patted Jack's face as she left, grabbing her coat and bag on the way out. Jack made his way to his office, to finish his dreaded paperwork.

"Coffee?" Methos asked. "It won't be up to Ianto's standard, but I can guarantee it will be hot and have caffeine in it."

"Thanks." Jack sat down at his desk, and listened to Methos clattering around in the kitchen, it wasn't the same sort of reassuring sound as when it was Ianto doing the clattering. Dismissing the thought with a shake of his head, he put his mind to his work. For once there wasn't too much left to do. The coffee appeared as promised, and he mumbled his thanks, too engrossed in what he was doing to pay much attention to the man who brought it; the sooner he finished, the sooner he could be distracted. He was aware of Methos wandering back out at one point, and coming back with a beer, but he seemed to be happy maintaining a comfortable silence so Jack said nothing and enjoyed the peace that surrounded them, so different from the hustle and bustle of a normal Torchwood day. Much as he loved his team, none of them were exactly tranquil people to be around, not even Tosh. Siannon was no different, despite her tendency to hide in the archives; put her with people and her natural ebullience broke through every time. He stopped to give his hands a rest, and smiled at Methos, sprawled in the comfy chair.

"You're very undemanding company, you know."

"You don't seem to be too bothered."

"I'm not. It's...nice. Comfortable. Isn't it boring just watching me work, though?" Methos shrugged as best he could from his position.

"Not really. I like people watching. You can learn a lot about someone that way."

"And what have you learned about me, sitting there in silence?"

"That would be telling." Jack raised an eyebrow at him. "Seriously? You look like you're trying to do the work of 3 people. Ever heard of delegation?"

"There are some things you can't delegate."

"No, but do you really need to work yourself to the bone so you can give the others a few hours extra off?"

"It's worth it. They have lives outside of Torchwood."

"And you don't, Jack?" Jack startled himself by answering truthfully.

"Not anymore." He murmured. Methos exploded out of his chair, no longer a picture of tranquillity.

"Right, that's it. Grab your coat, we're going out."

"No, I can't, I..."

"I'm not taking no for an answer. You're so busy looking after everyone else Jack Harkness, when did you last take any time for yourself?" Jack stood helplessly as Methos strode over to the stand and grabbed both their coats. He tossed the greatcoat to Jack, who accepted defeat as he caught it, then closed down the active programs on his computer, ensuring the essential background tasks were still ticking over. "You might be immortal, but you're still human. Do yourself a favour, remember."

"OK, OK." He shrugged into his coat. "See, I'm ready. Now where are we going?"

"No idea. Cardiff has changed a bit since I was last around. Somewhere we could talk would be a good start, as long as there's beer. And maybe food."

"I know just the place." Jack indicated that Methos was to precede him out of the office, while he shut it down for the night, making sure all the doors were closed firmly just in case Siannon hadn't managed to switch on the anti-pterodactyl shielding properly. He noticed Methos waiting by the door and waved him over. "We're leaving the back way." He said cryptically, pressing a couple of buttons on his wrist device. Methos nearly jumped a mile as the lift descended.

"You have a private lift?"

"Better than that, we have an invisible private lift. Courtesy of our friend the Doctor landing the TARDIS by the water tower when he stopped to refuel one time and affecting the paving slabs. It seemed too good an opportunity to miss, so we used them."

"How did you find out?"

"I was with the Doctor at the time, further back in my own timeline. I was also down here, itching to go and say hi and see what happened."

"I'm glad you didn't. The outcome of a paradox like that on the rift..." Methos shivered.

"Would not have been pretty, to say the least. That's why I stayed down here, and sent the rest of the team I had then on a field trip." He stepped onto the stone slab that was the lift and held out a hand for Methos. "Come on." Methos accepted the hand, and stepped up onto the lift, releasing it once he stood next to Jack. A couple more button presses later, and they began to ascend.

~*~

Jack led them to the same pub that Methos had visited with Siannon the previous night. He supposed that there was something about its older-fashioned ambience that appealed to people who had been around for a while. Plus it was possible to talk in there without having to shout. Methos felt himself unwind a little more as they found a seat in the corner, not the same one as yesterday he was glad to see. He carefully removed his coat and laid it along the ledge behind his seat. Jack kept his on. Methos held out his hand.

"Give me the coat. I'm not going to let you escape now I've got you this far. I'll even buy your drinks. Talking of which, what do you want?"

"Just water."

"God, you're a cheap date aren't you? The coat, please?" Jack eventually removed his greatcoat and tentatively handed it to Methos, who put it with his own. "There, now isn't that better. Are you sure you just want water? The beer's good here..."

"Water is fine, gotta keep myself hydrated you know." Jack said with a smile. Methos shrugged.

"Your loss. Be right back." After buying their drinks he half expected to get back to the table and find that Jack had gone, and was gratified to find he was still there, more so than he'd expected. He plunked himself down in the seat opposite and passed Jack his drink, before taking a long pull of his own pint and sighing appreciatively.

"You sure like your beer." Jack commented. Methos raised his glass.

"Oldest alcoholic drink in the world." He said with a grin. "I've had lots of practice." Jack chuckled slightly, and took a sip of his water.

"I bet you have. So is that the secret of a long and happy life?"

"Beer and good company? Sounds as good as anything else I've heard suggested, and a damn sight more pleasant than some. You should try it."

"I've got the good company bit. Maybe I'll work my way up to the beer part sometime."

"If I stick around, you may find that happening sooner rather than later. I can be very persuasive, you know."

"Oh, really?" Jack's expression implied volumes, but it didn't work on Methos who kept a completely straight and innocent looking face.

"What can I say? I've had lots of practice..."

"Is that your stock answer?"

"Possibly, you'll just have to wait and find out." The laughter just bubbled out of Jack, he was surprised at how good it felt, and realised that Methos had probably had a point when he dragged him out of the hub. He so very rarely let go now, and gave himself time to be just himself without the shadow of Torchwood and responsibility hanging over him; his choice, but even so it felt liberating to shut that side of himself away for a while and forget about responsibility completely; something he found easier to do than he'd expected and all due to the man sitting opposite him.

"Did I ever tell you I'm not very good at waiting for things to happen? I like to take a more proactive approach."

"Tough. Maybe you need some practice... I knew a guy like you once, and even he managed to get used to the idea that I won't be hurried into revealing things before I'm ready. Took him about 200 years though."

"I'll bear that in mind. And what the hell was he so desperate to find out?"

"Ah, now that's a long story..."

"I'm not doing anything else right now."

"In that case..." Methos launched into the tale with mischievous glee; reminding Jack at times of a person he'd known back in his Time Agency days. He then felt obliged to share a few stories of his own. They traded back and forth, each story becoming progressively more outrageous than the last until they were both almost weeping with laughter, and getting some decidedly odd looks from the bar staff into the bargain.

"Enough!" Jack said after Methos's last effort had him trying to decide between holding onto his ribs, which were aching, or clutching the table in an effort not to fall off his chair. "I need some time out." He disappeared to find the bathroom, while Methos replenished their drinks feeling rather pleased with his effort at diversionary therapy.

Jack's mood had changed somewhat by the time he rejoined Methos, the laughter and smiles now replaced by a more pensive expression.

"Uh-oh," commented Methos, "That looks like an 'I've been thinking' face."

"Yeah, well. You'd be right there."

"And?"

"If beer and good company aren't the secret to a long and happy life, then what is?"

There was more to Jack's question than the light-hearted tone implied, and Methos breathed a sigh of relief. It was going to be lot easier thank he'd thought to give Jack the answers to the questions he probably hadn't thought about except in the darkest corners of his heart. Siannon had known they were there, but hadn't been able to do a lot about it. Everyone had a dark side to their nature but hers was an introspective darkness that tended to self destruction, and he suspected that Jack was more like him. He said nothing, but watched Jack drawing circles in the moisture on the table as he spoke.

"How do you get to live through 5000 years and still end up a normal guy, enjoying life? How the hell do you get past wanting to destroy the things you can't have, like life and love and hope? How do you face eternity and not go insane?" Methos gently placed his hand over Jack's where it lay on the table, clenched.

"The truth?" He asked softly. Jack nodded tightly. "You learn how to take life one step at a time. One day at a time. Not to look too far ahead and not to think about losses, but only what can be gained. But most importantly, never ever forgetting where you have been and who you are; good and bad, black and white. Without contrast, there is nothing. Remember that."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It's not easy. Nothing worth doing properly is ever easy. It'll probably the hardest thing you'll ever do in your life, but it will make the difference between living and merely surviving, between being alive and just existing. And that's the real reason why you work yourself into the ground isn't it? While you're needed, it's proof your life means something." The taut expression on Jack's face eased a little, he shook his head to clear it, then met Methos's eyes with a wry smile.

"You see too much."

"Maybe I just look more deeply than other people."

"Maybe. Haven't you ever wanted an ordinary life? Wife, kids, a normal job?"

"I've had all that. Just because you're going to live a long time doesn't mean you can't enjoy the same things as everyone else. Of course in my case the kids have to be adopted, but I've been married more than once." Jack's interest was piqued again, distracting him from his not-so-pleasant thoughts.

"How many times is 'more than once'? You've got me curious now." Methos mentally counted.

"68."

"That's a lot of wives. Mortal or immortal?"

"They were all mortal. Marrying an immortal is way too much of a commitment, thank you; though I did have fixed-term contract under Brehon Law with an immortal once. Not sure if you'd count that as a marriage though, as we never said any of that 'til death us do part' stuff."

"Is she still alive?"

"Oh she's alive all right. She's the crazy one who likes flying dinosaurs."

"Siannon? You were married to Siannon? Dear God..." he started laughing again, a sudden easing of the tension that had taken over. "It's obvious you knew each other pretty well, but I would never have guessed on you guys being married. How on earth did you manage to stop killing each other?"

"That was the beauty of the Brehon Law; once your contract was up you could both walk away, no questions asked and if one of you had broken the terms of the contract then the other was no longer bound by it. When you're immortal, 27 years isn't so bad, though I have to admit we didn't see each other for nearly a century after that. I've stuck to mortals since. I love them, they leave me. It hurts like hell when they die, and you never ever have long enough together, but at least you have had the joy of sharing their lives." Methos took a deep breath, before a wicked grin stole over his face again. "Plus there's a bonus...they aren't around 500 years later to nag you about your bad habits. I'm sure she does it just to annoy me."

"Knowing Siannon, I wouldn't be surprised." Any further conversation was interrupted by the barman calling last orders. Jack checked his watch in disbelief. "I can't believe it's that time already. I need to get back. Early start tomorrow."

"I thought you weren't going to do any more work tonight."

"I'm not. I live there."

"You live in the Hub?"

"Under it, actually. There're a couple of rooms below my office and seeing as I was hardly ever away from the place anyway, I thought I might as well make use of them. It's quite comfortable, actually, if a little on the small side."

"Rather you than me. I like my space; somehow I never feel comfortable unless I've got the room to swing a good sized cat."

"You wouldn't like it one bit then." Jack started to haul his coat out from where Methos had stashed it. Methos quickly finished his beer and grabbed his own.

"I might as well walk back with you; it's on the way to my place."

"I'd like that." They left the pub together, a fine rain causing water droplets to bead coats and hair without soaking them as they crossed the Plass; close enough to touch but not doing so, as if by unspoken agreement and they parted at the water tower with no goodbye except the quick brush of fingertips and a wordless promise; for what, neither was entirely sure, but they both knew it was there.

~*~

When Ianto brought in the first coffee of the day, he found Jack looking positively serene; maybe a trifle distracted, but serene nonetheless. He found himself wondering just what the Torchwood leader had been up to the previous night, as serenity was not something that was usually associated with Jack Harkness. Puzzled, Ianto took solace in his everyday routine and silently placed the coffee in its usual spot.

"Thanks Ianto, you're too good to me." It was one of Jack's stock replies, but something felt different about it to Ianto and as he met Jack's eyes with a smile, he realised what it was; it had been a straight comment. No flirtatious inflection, no innuendo, no cocky grin to go with it; just genuine appreciation and warmth which surprised Ianto more than he would have expected.

"Anything else, sir?" He said in a voice that he felt approximated normal quite well, no matter how dazed he was feeling. He got another open smile in reply which flummoxed him even more.

"No, I'm fine." Not trusting his voice, Ianto escaped without saying anything else, only to almost run into Siannon on his way back.

"Whoa!" She caught Ianto by his shoulders as they both swayed from their near impact. "Where're you going in such a hurry?"

"Anywhere. Nowhere." Ianto still hadn't gained his usual equilibrium and threw a helpless glance over his shoulder in the direction of Jack's office.

"What's Jack done now?"

"He hasn't done anything. He just...surprised me, that's all."

"He surprised you?" Ianto nodded. She snorted in disbelief. "You come running out of there like a bat out of hell just because he surprised you. Yeah right. What happened.?"

"Nothing!" he hoped his voice did not sound as desperate to her as it did to him, but he really did not think he would be able to explain. Then he thought about what he'd said. "Nothing..." he whispered to himself again, realising that was exactly the problem. He laughed self-depreciatingly and headed back to the kitchen, with Siannon following.

"So how come 'nothing' has you completely flabbergasted?" Ianto did not reply immediately, busying himself tidying up the detritus of the morning's coffee preparation, while starting the next batch. Siannon waited in patient silence until he was ready.

"I've never seen him so peaceful. He's not a peaceful person is Jack, and certainly not before his first cup of coffee. It wasn't something I expected to see. Just what did you two do to him last night?"

"I didn't do anything. I just settled Myfanwy for the night and went home. I can hazard a guess as to what happened after I left though." Siannon started to grin, but it stopped half formed when she realised there was no answering smile from Ianto. She moved the two paces toward him, but he shifted away from her. She clasped the shoulder nearest to her and turned him so he was facing her, cupping his face gently with her other hand. "Ianto, are you jealous?"

"I...I'm not sure. It's not something I've thought about."

"Don't be. Not of me, not of Methos. We're just like ships passing in the night; we'll have faded back into the darkness before you know it. And then... well he might not realise it now, but Jack needs you, probably more than you need him. We can show him what it is not to fear and hate immortality; you can remind him he's human." She kissed Ianto softly on his forehead before stepping away from him, with a last pat to his shoulder. "Now where's my coffee?"

Coffee in hand, she sauntered down to Jack's office, determined to see the anomaly of a peaceful Jack for herself. By now, he was used to her appearing unannounced and sitting herself down on whatever bit of his desk didn't seem to have anything vital on it so she didn't see any reason to do things differently. She eyed him appraisingly from her perch, and he met her stare with one that lacked its usual undercurrent of bravado.

"Well?" he asked. She smiled, and ran a finger carefully down Jack's cheek.

"I can see what Ianto meant."

"And?"

"To me you look like a man who has exorcised some of his demons. I'm glad. So, what happened?"

"Not much; we went for a drink and we talked."

"You talked?"

"Yup. And I found out he tells even more outrageous stories than I do; only I've heard of the people in some of his. It was good."

"I can tell. I'm not sure he'd ever admit it, but you're rather alike in some ways." She slid back off Jack's desk and wandered back out into the hub, her curiosity satisfied for the present, pleased that the idea of introducing Jack to Methos seemed to be paying dividends for them both.

~*~

When Methos eventually turned up, some time after the rest of the team, he made his way straight over to Siannon's desk. She cheerfully ignored him until she realised he wasn't going to go anywhere else. She peered up at him, where he was perched on the edge of her desk.

"What?"

"Need any help in the archives today?" He asked innocently.

"Your help is always welcome. I'll be heading that way soon but I thought you might have something planned."

"Planned?" He followed her glance over to Jack's office. "Oh. Planned. No, not today. Or tonight. Maybe tomorrow. I think we both need a little time for reflection before anything else happens. We had a good night though - his stories are worse than mine..."

"He said something similar about yours."

"Great minds..."

"Don't make me laugh." She swatted Methos's leg. "Anyway, if you aren't doing anything tonight, would you like to keep me company? It's my training night, and it's been a while since I sparred with another immortal."

"You and me both. Yeah, I think I might. Could be interesting."

"I promise not to hurt your dignity."

"It's not my dignity I'm worried about..." They didn't need to see the rest of the Torchwood team to know that there were rolled eyes, and 'what now?' expressions being passed around as they both laughed. They were still chuckling as they disappeared into the archives.

~*~

As his serenity had not lasted past Methos' arrival at the Hub part of Jack was very glad not to have the 2 immortals in sight or under his feet that day. Loath as he was to admit it, either to himself or anyone else, he needed to think and their presence would have been distracting to say the least. He was even more relieved when a minor anomaly that needed investigating occurred as it gave him an opportunity to get out of the Hub completely. His only problem then was to decide which member of the team to take with him: Gwen would pry, Ianto wasn't a good idea for many reasons, Owen would snark and Tosh... Tosh would probably say nothing, but her eyes and expression would speak volumes. He decided significant looks would be much easier to deal with than prying, snarking or Ianto and so his choice was made. He also knew that if he followed protocol it should be him who stayed behind, but this was one time where he felt protocol could go hang; surely the Team Leader's sanity was more important than protocol.

The anomaly turned out to be a problem with the sewers, which could have lead to a weevil incursion as a worst case scenario, but thankfully was contained at the really bad smell and large rats phase. The rats *had* been bigger than normal and he found himself wondering if the weevils were keeping them as pets. He mentioned this to Toshiko on the way back to the Hub and got a 'don't go there' glare in reply as she shuddered at the thought. He made a mental note to tell Owen as the medic had been researching the Weevils in the Hub and might be interested in the concept.

~*~

Siannon and Methos were poring over a dwindling pile of un-translated manuscripts when they were disturbed by a polite cough from the door. Siannon turned to smile at the intruder.

"Ianto, you have a talent for sneaking up on people." Ianto smiled back at her,

"I believe that has been noted previously," he commented as he walked toward the 2 immortals, and stopped by the desk. "You two have been working hard, haven't you?" He indicated the un-translated pile.

"Of course we have. What else would we be doing down here?"

"Umm, I can think of a few..." Methos began, Siannon interrupted him before he could finish

"I wasn't asking you, old man. Ianto, I'm fairly sure you haven't come down just to admire our progress, so what can I do for you?" Ianto wouldn't meet her eyes, and fiddled with the buttons on his suit cuff before looking at Methos.

"I thought you might be interested to know that Jack has gone out for a while. I couldn't help but notice that you seem to be trying to keep your distance today, so if you wanted to leave while he's not around, now would be a good time."

"And you're telling me this because...?" Methos caught and held Ianto's gaze, but the younger man did not try to break it

"Jack can be very...distracting... if you want to think about things. Particularly if he believes it's to do with him, and more so when he seems to have been doing the same thing. I assumed that all 3 of you would probably prefer not bump into each other today, although I could be wrong." Siannon got out of her chair and leaned over the desk to give Ianto's shoulder a squeeze.

"You're not wrong. Thanks. And anyway, I think we're entitled to an early dart considering the work we've put in today, don't you Adam?" Methos nodded

"Oh definitely." He winked at Ianto, who smiled, before retracing his steps back up to the Hub.

"Why does it feel like we're running away?" Siannon asked as she tidied the workspace.

"We aren't running anywhere, this is a strategic withdrawal. And as such, is very important to future developments."

"Oh, you. Come on, let's go and give David Wong the fright of his life, I don't think he's ever seen me in daylight." They moved toward the door. "He's the owner of the studio where I practice," she added in answer to Methos's unspoken query.

Even after a stop off in the Brewery Quarter for Methos to pick up some training gear, they still arrived in daylight. The studio was quiet, and its proprietor was delighted to see the two of them rather than frightened. He even asked if he could watch them spar, to which they agreed, only to disappear part way through the session.

"Where did he vamoose off to?" Methos asked through a faceful of towel, after they had finished for a time.

"No idea. Maybe we did frighten him off."

"I doubt it; your Mr Wong doesn't look the sort to be frightened very easily." They both turned at the footsteps coming down the stairs, to find the man in question carrying what looked like a sword case. He stopped in front of them with the hint of a bow.

"Siannon, Adam, it would give me great pleasure if you would agree to spar with these. From watching you both, I believe you have used their like before" He opened the case to reveal a matched pair of Jian swords. Identical sighs of appreciation left both immortals. Methos returned the bow.

"We would be honoured." Siannon was reverently removing a sword from the case.

"Oh you beauty," she breathed. Immortals always appreciated a good weapon. David smiled.

"It is good to see people who appreciate fine workmanship." Methos took the other sword, examining it carefully.

"Fine workmanship is an understatement, these are as magnificent a pair of Jian as I have ever seen, and I've seen a few. How long have they been in your family?"

"Hundreds of years, but the rumour is that they are older than that."

"Rumour is right; these swords are close to a thousand years old."

"You know your weapons."

"I like to think so. You do us a great honour in permitting us to use them." David waved away the compliment.

"A sword is meant to be used; these were meant to be used. Unfortunately it has been a long time since there were two people with skill enough to give them proper respect. I trained with them, but never used them to fight. No-one seemed right for them. You both are. I've almost offered to spar Siannon with them a few times, but I know she is a more able sword-user than me. You match each other more closely than anyone else I've seen in some time, and so it seems appropriate to offer the use of these to you, for tonight, anyway." He closed the case and set it aside, settling himself down to watch. They started with simple moves, as although they had both used jian in the past it had been some time ago, before gradually increasing the speed and complexity, each move flowing seamlessly into the next almost as if the swords remembered why they had been made. They almost made their first mistake simultaneously, and mutually decided to call it a day. The silence was broken by the sound of clapping, and they both self-consciously looked in David's direction. He was on his feet, face wreathed with smiles. Siannon made her way over to him first.

"Thank you for letting us use these."

"If your friend is staying a while, I think I might allow you to use them again." Methos came to stand at her side with a grin.

"For a chance to use this again, I'll definitely stay a while."

"Good, good." They carefully gave the swords back to him and he gently cleaned them before replacing them in the case. "I will look forward to it." With a last wave, he vanished back upstairs, still beaming from ear to ear. Siannon threw an arm around Methos, and gave him a quick hug.

"Better?" She didn't have to elaborate; they both knew how tense he had been. He dropped a kiss on her head.

"Much. Drink?"

"After the last one with you? I'd better not."

"Not even one?" She breathed a defeated sigh.

"Ok, one it is. And I mean it."

After showering and getting changed, they found themselves in another pub, chosen at random for proximity to Siannon's car. She kept her word and left after one drink, leaving Methos nursing his pint and musing on possibilities.

~*~

The next day brought rain, and another weevil incursion. This meant that instead of the quiet day in the archives that they'd planned, both Siannon and Methos were commandeered to help. Neither was called on to assist with the capture, but their presence in the Hub enabled the rest of the team to get back out in the field quickly while they helped Ianto put the latest weevil into its new home in the holding cells.

"Ugly buggers aren't they?" Methos commented as they left the cells.

"They're even worse if they're trying to kill you." Siannon's memory was playing back the moment of Jack's death-by-weevil in glorious Technicolor, which made her rather uncomfortable even though she knew he was fine. "This one's a lot more docile than the last weevil I met."

"They pretty much always are once we've got the cuffs on them, almost as if they know they'll come to less harm if they cooperate. Owen thinks they might be telepathic." Ianto said over his shoulder from the security door.

"Does he now..." Methos found himself mentally re-evaluating the medic. Siannon grinned as he did, she already knew there was more to Owen than met the eye but she had the advantage of shared ground. Her grin widened when she remembered that Methos did too and she wondered what Owen would make of another immortal doctor.

"Maybe you should actually talk to him properly, you might be pleasantly surprised," she said, ignoring the look on Ianto's face as he rolled his eyes.

"Oh?" Methos began to look interested.

"He might not be a people person..." there was a choking sound from ahead of them as Ianto smothered a laugh, Siannon persevered with ignoring him and continued "...but he is passionate about his job. Press the right buttons and you actually get a decent conversation out of him."

"I'll have to remember that." Any further conversation was interrupted by Ianto.

"They've sighted another one. If you two go on to the garage, I'll go back upstairs. I'll keep you posted."

Once the second weevil had been ensconced with the rest, the team went into damage control mode, cleaning up after themselves. Jack seemed to be everywhere, Ianto had been sent off to do whatever it was he did, and so Siannon took over coffee duty with help from Methos, while they both silently watched the team go about their business; an opportunity they hadn't been able to take advantage of before now. It made them realise just how much work the 5 extraordinary people put into protecting the daily life of the city above, with no recognition and no thanks.

As things began to settle down, Ianto reappeared, and headed straight for Jack's office. A few minutes later he came back out of the office with a smile on his face, and made his way up to the kitchen area.

"You look pleased with yourself, what did Jack say to you?" Siannon, as ever, was curious. Methos took the opportunity to fade into the background, and quietly made his way down the stairs to the hub, not wanting to watch Siannon tease Ianto about Jack, though he could hear every word.

"What makes you think he said anything?"

"You came out of there with a smile on your face, and you weren't in there long enough for anything else."

"You might be insulted."

"I doubt it. I've got thick skin, me." Ianto chuckled.

"He commented that while it was very nice of you to stop him from being poisoned by Owen, he was desperate for a *real* cup of coffee."

"As provided by Ianto Jones, the coffee king and worker of magic. I'm not insulted at all; he has a point. I'll be terribly upset if I don't get a cup as well though." She pulled a face.

"Would I do that to you?" Ianto asked. Her grotesque expression settled into a smile.

"Nah, you're too nice to me. No-one else ever brings me anything in the archives."

"Apart from Jack, they probably wouldn't find you. None of them goes that deep into the archives if they can help it."

"That explains the peace and quiet down there." They shared a grin, but neither of them said anything else as they worked in harmony. Once decent coffee had been dispensed to one and all, Siannon took hers into Jack's office. She decided to forgo the pleasure of taking her usual seat, and leaned against the door frame instead, smiling gently as she watched Jack inhaling the smell of his coffee before taking a sip. He met her eyes over the rim of his cup, his own sparkling with amusement. They both took another sip of their respective drinks, and then Jack placed his back on the desk.

"So what did you make of today?"

"Weevils aren't as scary when they're on the other side of a secure door." Jack let out a bark of laughter.

"I suppose they wouldn't be."

"Before today I also didn't appreciate the amount of work you all put in to keep life up there normal. I don't think I could do it."

"Someone has to, or we'd find ourselves hip deep in weevils or worse."

"You know, I don't think I really want to know what's worse than a weevil. I'm sticking to translating, it's much more comfortable."

"Not as much fun though."

"I'm not sure this," she waved ambiguously at the hub, "is my idea of fun. Interesting, yes; fun, no."

"You won't be after a permanent job then?"

"Not on your life. Just keep me in mind if you ever get any other stuff you can't translate once I eventually finish this lot properly."

"I think you can guarantee that. And Adam?"

"You'll have to ask him, but I think he'd be interested too."

"That's good to know." One corner of Jack's mouth seemed to twitch with a smile he couldn't repress. She finished her coffee, and hid a smile of her own behind her cup.

"If it's all right with you, I'll call it a day."

"That's fine. Thanks for your help today." This time she got a full on Jack Harkness special grin, which if she allowed herself to think about it would have made her go weak at the knees. She grinned back at him.

"You're welcome. I'll see you tomorrow." Without further ado, she disappeared out into the Hub, leaving Jack with the thought that finishing early was a great idea if he could manage it.

When Jack eventually made his own way out of the office, he found that the rest of his team had almost finished tying up the loose ends of the days work, and were more than ready to go home themselves. They didn't need much persuasion to leave, except for Ianto who offered to settle Myfanwy before he left, something Jack was more than pleased to accept. There was no sign of Methos, and he wasn't sure whether to be pleased or disappointed. Alone, he began to do his last rounds of the base, waving at the nearest security camera when Ianto announced over his headset that Myfanwy was set up for the night and he was leaving. Nothing seemed to be out of place, but for some reason he could not pin down he found his steps leading him into the archives, toward the room that was Siannon's current domain. The door was closed, which he'd expected, and there was a crack of light shining underneath it, which he hadn't. He reached out, and pushed the door open. Methos greeted him with a wave of a beer bottle, almost empty Jack noted. He was leaning back in one of the chairs at a decidedly precarious angle, feet on the desk and one of the manuscripts in his hand.

"I wondered when you were going to turn up." He said, obviously unsurprised at Jack's appearance. Jack entered the room, but left the door open.

"You don't have to hide anymore, everyone's gone home. Even Ianto."

"But this is such a good place to keep out of everyone's way. It's quiet, private, and I even get free entertainment which classes as doing something useful." He took his feet off the desk and dropped the chair back onto all four legs before carefully putting the manuscript down. He cast a disdainful eye at the bottle in his hand and finished the contents in one swallow.

"What do you want, Methos?" Jack folded his arms and glared at the immortal. Methos caught his gaze and held it, returning glare for glare. Suddenly his whole demeanour softened as he smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"How about a drink? This one seems to be empty..." Faced with the inevitability of Methos's logic, Jack caved in, a smile of his own creeping across his face.

"Only if you do the buying again. You're too expensive."

"Sounds like a twisted bargain Mr cheap date, but I'll accept anyway." Methos strode toward the door, empty bottle still in hand. "Lets go."

Back in what Methos was beginning to think of as his pub, they initially stuck to idle banter, rather than trying to out-tell each other tall stories again. However, the conversation soon shifted and Jack found himself focusing on something Methos had said in the corridor from the Tourist Office when they first met.

"You said you were here to help me find out why I was immortal 'amongst other things' but you never did mention what those 'other things' were."

"So I did. I also said you'd see. Don't you have any patience?"

"Not after the day we've had today. And just the sight of you ignites my curiosity."

"Only your curiosity? I'm disappointed."

"Now you come to mention it…" There was an evil glint in Jack's eyes as he grinned.

"Oh good. You won't mind then."

"Mind what?"

"This" Methos leaned over the table to cup Jack's face gently between his hands, and kissed him. It wasn't a particularly long or passionate kiss, but Methos put all the force of 5000 years of living, and loving, behind it. He'd found the right sort of kiss, with the right sort of person, could ask and answer a hell of a lot of questions without the waste of time that words might produce. To Methos, time was infinitely precious as mortals never had enough of it to share with him. He broke the kiss, and looked deeply into Jack's eyes as if he was trying to see into his heart and soul. Jack returned the look, and gently laid one of his hands over Methos's where it lay on his cheek. They remained that way for what seemed like forever, but probably was only a few seconds. Jack tore his eyes away, and took Methos's hand in his own, tracing the lines on the palm before dropping a quick kiss into it and folding Methos fingers round the palm, as if to keep the kiss caught there. He smiled, with the open and friendly expression that wasn't seen often on his face.

"I suppose there's only one thing left to ask."

"And what would that be?"

"My place or yours?" the smile transmuted itself into a grin, which Methos met in kind.

"Mine. I like space, remember. Bring what you like, though." Jack almost dragged Methos out of the pub in his hurry to get to the Torchwood SUV. Everything he needed to keep an eye on the Hub was in the SUV, which meant he could let himself go without worrying about what might be happening.

Jack slid the SUV into a space next to a sleek jaguar XK8, and couldn't resist giving it a little pat of appreciation as he opened the rear passenger door of the SUV to grab a bag out of the foot well.

"That's a lovely set of wheels," he commented to Methos who was waiting between both cars.

"Thanks. She drives like a dream too. Much better than that souped up Range-Rover you've got."

"That's your car?" Jack almost looked shocked.

"Yup. You have a problem with that?" Methos led the way toward the building; Jack hefted his bag and followed.

"No. Not at all. I just expected you to drive something more... traditional... I guess."

"Used to have an E-type once; the XK reminds me a bit of that. And now I'm no longer trying to pass myself of as a grad student I can afford my little extravagances. Good job Adam Pierson had rich relatives that felt the need to leave him comfortably well off when they passed on ... And if you're very nice to me I might take you out for a spin sometime."

"I can do nice." Jack leered at Methos, who rolled his eyes, and let them both into the building, then up the stairs and into his apartment. Jack immediately made his way to the table in the kitchen area, while Methos hung up his coat, took off his boots and made his way to the fridge.

"Drink?" He asked as he procured a beer for himself.

"You know I think I might." Methos grabbed another beer, and opened both bottles before joining Jack at the table, watching him while he rummaged around in the bag. Jack glanced up to give Methos a quick smile. "You wouldn't have a laptop I could borrow would you?"

"I might be a fossil, but my life-style isn't. Just don't put anything nasty on it, all my work for the museum is on that machine. And yes, I do have back ups but that's not the point."

"I won't do anything evil with it; it's just to act as a relay."

"Right." Methos fetched his laptop, and gingerly handed it over, watching Jack examine and reject various gadgets half of which he assumed were alien or restricted as he didn't recognise them, plug various things together, tap codes into his wrist device, and generally ignore the fact that there was another living and breathing presence in the room. Methos didn't know whether to be annoyed or not; he didn't like being ignored but it was fascinating to watch Jack work. While he was watching he realised that there was something in the Hub that Jack didn't want to be too far away from, despite what else he wanted, and Methos didn't think it was weevils or the rift manipulator. Jack eventually sat back, a triumphant smile on his face.

"That's got it. Now I can relax."

"About bloody time." Methos passed Jack his beer. "Just what is it in the Hub that you can't bear to be away from. Or maybe that should be a Who?" Blue eyes met hazel, wary and exposed. "Remember who you're talking to." Methos said gently. Jack took a mouthful of beer, swallowed carefully.

"The Doctor." He stated baldly. "No, I'm not hiding him in the archives, you would have found him by now if I was, but there is a possibility he might return to Cardiff and I want to be there if he does. I have a few burning questions I need to ask him."

"So you have a time-lord detector in the Hub."

"Kind of. You know that hand in the jar..." Methos nodded hesitantly, "... it's the Doctor's. I'm hoping it will resonate if the rest of him turns up near the rift. He's not likely to stay long; just enough to recharge the TARDIS."

"Not a problem if you're staying in the Hub, but a potential one if he arrives while you're here." Methos had lived with obsession before, his own and other peoples, so he had no trouble recognising it. "Tell you what," Jack met his eyes again. "You can borrow my car if you need to get back in a hurry; it's faster and more manoeuvrable." He dug in his jeans pocket for the keys, and carefully placed them in Jack's hand, still warm from his body. Jack looked at them as if they were about sprout teeth and bite him.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm hoping you won't need to, but the offer stands. I don't want you worrying about anyone else except yourself, and me, while you're here."

"In that case, I accept." He placed the keys on the table next to the conglomeration of wires, laptop and unfathomable gadgets where they could be quickly grabbed on the way to the front door. After a moments hesitation he pulled off his greatcoat and slung that over the back of the chair he'd just vacated. He picked up his beer and wandered into the centre of the room, looking around him. "Nice place: there's definitely room to swing a pretty large cat in here."

"That makes it perfect for me. Here, I'll show you round." He placed a hand at the base of Jack's back to guide him, no matter that most of it could be seen from where they already stood. As he was moved from room to room, Jack became hyper-aware of that hand, burning through his clothes like a brand; he certainly wasn't concentrating on the 'tour' not even when the door was opened on the bedroom, though he did register in part of his mind that the bed looked comfortable. He was sure that Methos was aware of this and had done it intentionally, a thought that was interrupted by Methos removing his hand, and taking the beer bottle off Jack. Both bottles were placed on the nearest surface, and Methos took Jack's chin in one hand.

"You aren't concentrating, Jack Harkness. I wouldn't want you to drop anything unintentionally."

"Of course not."

"Do I need to remind you why?" Methos was only inches away from Jack's face, his breath soft on his skin.

"Maybe you should..." It was almost a whisper, but Jack knew Methos had heard every word as he watched a tender smile spread across the immortal's face. He received no answer except the press of lips against his own; gentle and inquisitive. The kiss was over before Jack had the chance to really enjoy it, but he was stopped from saying anything by the touch of fingers on his mouth.

"Before this goes any further, there's something I want you to do for me." Jack nodded mutely as Methos removed his hand, resting them both on Jack's shoulders. "I want you to try and touch me with your life-force..." He quelled Jack's incipient protest with a glance. "I know what happened with Siannon. If you hadn't noticed, I'm not her."

"Oh I'd noticed all right."

"The point is, I've been introduced to the TARDIS and she hasn't. I think there's a good chance that something...rather different... might happen."

"And you won't know unless we try."

"Precisely. If you can, try to touch me with a trickle of it rather than a flood so if anything does react badly, it won't be overwhelming."

"I'll do my best."

"And don't look so worried, you can't kill either of us remember." Jack laughed at that, even though part of him did want to strangle Methos.

Deed followed thought and he placed a hand at the back of Methos's neck, drawing him closer; they were almost of a height, and probably would be if Jack didn't have his boots on. Their arms wrapped around each other as Jack focused on the life-force that made him unique. The soft glow was almost invisible, but both men were aware of the difference in atmosphere between them and as Jack's mouth descended on his own, Methos gently cracked open the internal barriers to his quickening, laying his innermost self open for inspection. Neither was entirely sure what to expect and Jack was at least partly waiting to be thrown across the room by the shock of Methos's quickening. Jack was pleasantly surprised when nothing seemed to be happening, apart from sharing a tongue-tingling kiss with a cute guy, so he let a little more of himself flow into that kiss, both physical and not. Methos perceived the change in intensity as a cascade of warmth suffusing him, and he tightened his hold; waiting. With a jolt, his quickening roused, ready to meet this latest threat. Jack tensed in anticipation, but what they both felt was nothing like either of them had expected. A thousand fingers of cold fire curled up and around the warmth; touching, seeking, exploring and finally recognising that this was no threat, but something familiar. The subsequent explosion of feeling shook them both to the core, reaching in and around every last facet of their being. They broke apart, overwhelmed and dazed by sensation, clutching each others hands as if they were the only lifeline each of them had left.

Eventually, reality reaffirmed itself as their breathing slowed and the pounding of their hearts subsided. Jack gazed at their joined hands, and then up into Methos's eyes.

"So that was 'rather different' was it? Master of the understatement, aren't you?" Methos smiled, and released one of Jack's hands to brush the hair out of his eyes.

"If it's any consolation, I wasn't expecting anything quite like that either. Just..." There was a faint tingle where Methos's fingers still lay against Jack's face. Methos's smile widened and he removed his hand. Jack's free hand flew to his face to cover the spot.

"And what in hell was *that*?"

"*That* was my quickening. It seems I can touch you with it now. Maybe it just had to be introduced properly so it recognised what's within you ..." The idea was so ludicrous he began to chuckle, before long they were both laughing, hanging on to each other. Methos managed to get himself under control first, and reached for the abandoned beer, passing Jack's to him before leaning on the counter, and was not really surprised when Jack settled next to him, close enough to touch.

"Is it just you, or would any immortal be able to touch me like that?"

"Just me, I would think. Generally it's only those of us who are close to or over 1000 years old or so who can touch each other with their quickening. You aren't like us, and even I couldn't touch you until you'd made a connection with me. As far as I know, I'm the only immortal who knows the Doctor. There's always the possibility I might not be, but you'd have to ask him for a list of any he's introduced to the TARDIS. Without that connection to her, any immortal's quickening is going to perceive what's inside you as a threat, and react accordingly. The older the immortal, the more violent the reaction they would have to you."

"I figured that." Jack shuddered at the thought. "I have to admit to being very relieved you were right. I don't think being blasted out of your window would have been my idea of fun."

"Mine neither; can you imagine the bill this place would have sent me?" Jack looked sidelong at Methos and shook his head with an exasperated smile.

"You're impossible."

"I've heard that a time or two before. What can I say; it's second nature to me..."

"Oh I see; a defence mechanism."

"I didn't say that." Their eyes met, as Jack turned toward Methos once more.

"But that's what you meant."

"Maybe."

"Scared of letting people close to you?"

"Not scared, it's just that it's... better... that way."

"Are you sure about that?" Jack put his beer back down and gently removed the bottle from Methos's hand, placing next to the other. He took one of Methos's hands in his own, softly kissed his fingers and drew him closer. "Are you telling me that after 5000 years you no longer crave intimacy? Because if you are, you're a very bad liar."

"People get hurt."

"So do we, when they leave us. You know how that feels better than I do."

"Touché."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"Do?" Methos grinned in a lightning swift change of mood. "I'm not going to do anything; except stop you jabbering on about things that aren't important right now..." With a sinuous wriggle he freed his trapped hand, reaching to cup the back of Jack's head, while the other snaked around Jack's waist to pull him closer. He smiled at the delighted surprise in the blue eyes, and was still smiling as their lips met; then there was no more time and breath for smiling or laughter as he fiercely plundered Jack's mouth with all the passion and desire he usually kept in check, only to be met with equal fervour. All thoughts of proceeding with caution flew out of the window and were scattered to the wind.

Jack was panting under the onslaught of lips and teeth and tongue; half in pleasure, half in amazement. It was a joy to realise that such a passionate heart resided in the calm and somewhat cynical outer shell that Methos presented to the world. His hands were tangled in Methos's hair as those lips blazed a trail down his neck, to bite at the skin just visible above the neck of his shirt and t-shirt. He pulled Methos's head back up to face him, and gave him a long and deep kiss of his own. Chest heaving, he gazed into the hazel eyes.

"Hungry, aren't you?" He ground out, voice hoarse with desire. Their mouths were only centimetres apart. Methos's hands wandered up his body and pushed the braces down his arms, before cupping Jack's face once more.

"Absolutely ravenous," Methos growled, nibbling Jack's lips to prove his point.

"Oh good. Don't let me stop you..." Anything else Jack might have said was swallowed by another hot and hungry kiss, as searching fingers began to undo the buttons of his shirt, while all he felt able to do was cling for dear life to the body that was pressed against him. The shirt was dragged off and deposited somewhere on the floor while the searching hands found the bottom of his t shirt, and snaked up his body, skin on skin. Jack wasn't sure whether the ensuing tingles across his skin were just the product of being highly sensitised, or if he actually was feeling Methos's touch like lightning. The t shirt followed the shirt, and Jack gasped as teeth grazed his collarbone and hot fingers dug into his waist, fumbling with the fastening of his jeans, brushing his aching hardness through the denim. He took an involuntary step back, only to find the bed right behind him; he wasn't even aware that Methos had been deftly manoeuvring them into the bedroom. Cold air touched his superheated skin and he shivered, only to realise that the draught had been produced by Methos flinging off his own t shirt. The jeans soon followed, and Jack found himself staring at the lean but well-muscled body. He licked suddenly dry lips.

"Like what you see?" Methos asked breathlessly.

"Oh yes." Before he could make a move of his own Methos had launched himself at Jack again, leaving a streak of wetness on his stomach as he pushed him back onto the bed.

"You're overdressed, Harkness." Methos yanked jeans over hips that Jack helpfully raised, dropping a quick kiss onto his weeping cock before kneeling on the floor.

"What...?"

"Boots." Methos cursed unintelligibly as he struggled with the laces of Jack's boots, desire making him clumsy. Jack would have offered to help, but he didn't think he'd manage any better; he contented himself watching the dark head bent over its task, and imagining it bent over something else. Laces undone, the boots were wrenched off, with the jeans being left to puddle on the floor. Jack expected Methos to immediately join him on the bed and nearly jumped out of his skin when Methos began kissing his feet, nibbling gently at his toes before working his way up his legs. Careful little nips were interspersed with licks and kisses on every bit of skin, first one leg, then the other. Jack's hands were clenched in the bedclothes in an effort not to reach out and just drag Methos up onto the bed, stick his tongue down his throat and fuck him senseless. He whimpered as Methos bit him on the thigh, and then shifted away from him leaving Jack feeling bereft until the bed dipped as he clambered up and hauled unceremoniously on one of Jack's arms to get him to move up the bed.

Methos ran his hands over Jack's upper body, barely touching his skin, but leaving what felt like trails of cold fire in the wake of his fingers. Jack was trembling, aching for more, but not quite desperate enough to beg.

"Much as I'd love to take the time to admire and worship the rest of your body as it really deserves, I don't think I can." Methos said, the near conversational tone at odds with the sweat beading his face and his shaking fingers.

"Oh?" Jack was pleased that he managed to sound both disappointed and curious with one syllable; he didn't have the breath for much more. Methos gazed down at him, loving the feeling of making Jack powerless to argue with him, and determined to get to know that beautiful body a lot better later on. Right now though, his own body was screaming about what it wanted and needed in no uncertain terms, and eloquence deserted him.

"Jack... I want to... I *need* to..."

"Fuck me?" Jack drew up his knees and spread his legs in a wordless invitation.

"Yeesss." Methos leaned over to the bedside table, leaving one hand burning into Jack's skin as he fumbled in the drawer. Jack turned his head to see what was dragged out and couldn't help but smile to see that it was the same brand of lube that was sitting unopened in his greatcoat pocket. Methos reached back into the drawer, and Jack grabbed his arm.

"No need." The look Methos gave him spoke volumes, but he said nothing. Jack answered the unspoken question with a firm nod before all thought of speech was driven out of his head again by Methos's urgent kisses, his body grinding against him. Jack gasped and shuddered as slick fingers tenderly probed the entrance to his body, making him helpless to the waves of sensation coursing through him.

"Beautiful." Methos murmured in his ear, as the fingers were removed and gentle hands changed their positions slightly. "Watch me..." Jack opened eyes that he hadn't been aware of allowing to close and found himself drowning in a gaze that was black with desire and need. He reached up to brush his shaking fingers across kiss-bruised lips before letting his hands drift down to Methos's hips, holding him steady as he pressed into Jack's body inch by careful inch, not stopping until he was buried balls deep.

Methos leaned down for another kiss, and began to move, almost withdrawing completely from Jack's tight arse before thrusting slowly back in again, and again. Too slowly for Jack, who raised his hips, wordlessly begging for more, and faster, and harder, and NOW. Unable to resist the writhing body beneath him, Methos obliged, slamming into Jack as hard as he could without causing unwelcome pain. There was no time, no need for words, they let their bodies do the talking without them; breathless moans, the sound of skin slapping on skin, the occasional half articulated word that meant nothing and everything at the same time, and the choked off scream as Jack came without Methos touching him. As Jack clenched around him, Methos plunged deep into him one last time exploding into him with a shout, before collapsing in a boneless gasping heap onto the body beneath him, only half aware of the arms that curved around him to hold him close as if he were the most precious thing in the world.

Methos slithered to one side, but not out of the encircling arms, when he realised that Jack was struggling to breathe. The blue eyes were laughing at him, even if the man himself didn't have enough breath left to do so. One finger poked him in the ribs.

"You're heavier than you look." Jack croaked. Methos answered him with an incomprehensible mumble and was rewarded for his efforts with an almost bone-crushing hug. "And you're fantastic."

"That's what the Doctor said too." Methos muttered carelessly, then stiffened as the arms loosened from around him. He peered up at Jack, inwardly cursing for divulging something he had never meant to, a sure sign that Jack had scrambled his brains. Instead of the glower Methos was expecting, he was met with a grin.

"You and the Doctor; I should have guessed." Jack brushed Methos's sweaty hair away from his forehead and dropped a kiss onto it, then onto his nose, and finally his lips, before smiling into his eyes.

"You aren't upset?"

"Not upset, just a little disappointed that I couldn't be there too. I bet you've both been pretty lonely at times over the years and there's a lot to be said in favour of a good comfort fuck." Methos struggled up onto an elbow.

"Is that all you think this was? A comfort fuck?" Jack burst out laughing.

"You have me all but begging and so desperate I can barely touch you; some comfort fuck!" He leaned to capture Methos's mouth once more, ruthlessly investigating it with lips and tongue until they were breathless once more, but it had explained far more than just mere words ever could.

"Glad we got that sorted out." Methos said as he collapsed back onto the bed. Jack smiled down at him, and traced the answering smile on Methos's face with his fingertips before he heaved himself off the bed and padded barefoot to the bathroom. Methos let his eyes drift shut, and tried to follow Jack's movements around the flat by his other senses alone; the creak of the bathroom door, the sound of running water, the chink of a glass, more running water, the almost silent footsteps approaching the bed. Methos's eyes flew open just before the damp cloth touched his skin.

"You're kind of sticky," was all the explanation he was given as Jack carefully wiped his skin clean and settled on the edge of the bed.

"I had noticed." Methos snuck a quick kiss on the inside of Jack's wrist before wriggling round him so he could get off the bed himself. "I'll take that back."

Methos returned from the bathroom to find Jack, still comfortably naked, poking around in the fridge. He watched in appreciation for a few moments, until Jack, realising his audience had returned wiggled his backside at him and he burst out laughing.

"You are incorrigible. Nice arse though." He wandered over to give said body part an appreciative squeeze. "Just what are you looking for anyway?"

"Something to drink that isn't water, alcoholic or coffee."

"Ah. I think Siannon bought some juice..." He joined Jack by the fridge, conscious of the cooler air flowing over his skin. Some riffling around in the salad box produced a carton of pomegranate juice. Methos grabbed a couple of glasses and poured them both a decent measure of juice before depositing the carton back in the fridge in a more obvious place. He sighed appreciatively as the cold juice slid down his parched throat and wandered back to the bedroom, Jack following close behind.

"So you do drink other things besides beer and coffee."

"If you tell anyone, I'll have to kill you."

"I think you already did."

"Don't think I made a thorough enough job of it. I'll have to do it again, obviously."

"Oh, obviously." Jack took a sip of his own juice, and then placed it on the nightstand. "And when would that be?"

"Oooh I don't know..." Methos took a stop closer to Jack, glass still in hand. "How about... now?" He slid one arm around Jack's waist, and deliberately rolled the cold glass across one of his nipples, preventing Jack's instinctive flinch from the shock of contact with a firm hand.

"You are an evil old man..."

"Thank you." The glass was almost ripped from his hand, and put down none too gently; then Jack picked him bodily and threw him on the bed.

"Payback's a bitch, you know," he commented. Methos did not get the chance to agree or disagree before Jack claimed his mouth once more, and then proceeded to turn him into immortal putty with every kiss and caress, every lick and bite.

Jack felt like a virtuoso playing a complex instrument for the first time; knowing in theory how to play it, but finding the practical aspects to be far different from any preconceived ideals. Concentrating on the reaction each touch elicited on them both firmly anchored him in the here and now, to the exclusion of all else. Nothing existed except the responsive body trembling in surrender beneath lips and fingers, nothing beyond the blaze of passion that consumed them held any significance; not Torchwood, not the Game, not even the Doctor.

"Jack, please..." The breathy entreaty sounded nothing like the Methos Jack had come to know as he gazed down in appreciation at his handiwork; at pale skin flushed and glistening, eyes burning with hunger and need and a cock that was engorged and leaking and just begging for attention. He obliged, running his fingers down the shaft and gently tonguing the slit to gain his first taste of Methos. A taste was not enough, and he began to explore more thoroughly taking more of Methos into the wet heat of his mouth, swirling his tongue around the head, letting his teeth lightly graze the shaft as his fingers drifted lower, brushing lightly over the puckered skin until he could reach the sensitive spot hidden beneath. The jerk of response in his mouth and another breathless moan brought his own need back to the forefront of his mind. Ignoring the discontented whimper it produced he disengaged his mouth from Methos's cock with a final lick and moved to take his mouth once more, letting Methos taste himself. The almost electric shock as their lips touched took Jack's breath away. Gasping, he almost missed the fleeting look of triumph on Methos's face, but caught enough to realise what had happened.

"Evil..." He groaned, nibbling his way down Methos's chin and neck. His hand found his way back to Methos cock and he gently let his thumb flick over the sensitive head once, twice, before he tightened his grip and began to gently pump it. He waited for a few seconds until Methos seemed totally distracted by the sensation, and then made his move. Jack had noticed an incredibly sensitive spot just above the join of shoulder and neck; precisely where a sword blow might fall. He had not wanted to focus attention on it too early, and lose what he hoped would be the ultimate effect. He stilled his hand, and bit down, unsure if he imagined the momentary taste of blood in his mouth or not. Focusing on that one spot, he felt the tingle of immortal healing with his tongue and breathed the essence of all he was out with the kiss that gentled the bite. Methos gave a cry that was more howl than scream and came gushing over Jack's hand. A last brush of lips and he removed both hand and mouth as he tenderly stroked the quivering heap that was Methos with his free hand; soothing, bringing him gently back to reality. Licking his hand clean, Jack decided the taste of immortal was pretty much what he expected, and not really all that different from any other guy. He glanced down with a smile when he realised Methos was watching him.

"How?..." Methos rasped.

"I'm a quick study..." Jack reached down and picked up the discarded lube, and held it up in question, to be answered by a tired but happy grin and a nod.

Methos carefully scrambled round until he was on his knees, then collapsed against the pillows as his legs gave out. Gentle hands reached for him, moving more pillows to give him support, and he sighed in contentment as feather light kisses were planted down the length of his spine, becoming more intense the lower they travelled until kisses were interspersed with gentle nips over the cheeks of his arse sending the breath hissing through his teeth in the first stirrings of renewed desire. His voice still didn't seem to be working properly as he tried to articulate what he was feeling

"S'good." The response was even more unintelligible as Jack's mouth was otherwise occupied tonguing his way down the crack of Methos's arse, teasing the tight ring of muscle. Another moan escaped as tongue was replaced by lube-slick fingers seeking and gaining entry to his body, gently relaxing muscles that had almost forgotten this most erotic of caresses. Renewed hunger blazed through him phoenix-like as Jack's fingers unerringly found that most sensitive of places, setting him on fire with passion once more. Lips briefly sought his neck again, and he arched into the touch; Jack chuckled against his skin

"I'm impressed with immortal recovery time," he whispered breathlessly.

"Jack..." It was just one word, but taken in consideration with the way Methos was urgently impaling himself on Jack's fingers it said 'shut up and fuck me' as clear as day. Jack eased his fingers out, and laid a careful hand on Methos's hip to still him; the other slicked more lube onto his own weeping cock, then he was pushing slowly into the tight heat of Methos's body. He paused for a second, almost drowning in desire, trying desperately not to come too soon. Slowly, carefully, he began to move; languorous thrusts in an effort to prolong the experience for them both. Methos soon had enough of careful, and shoved his hips backwards in wordless demand. It was a plea Jack could not even try to resist, and he lost himself completely as he frantically drove into Methos's arse again and again, barely retaining enough presence of mind to reach around him in an effort to ensure Methos came with him again. Jack lost control first, breath sobbing in his lungs as he emptied himself deep inside Methos. He was only dimly aware of the spurt of warmth over his hand and the clench of muscles around him, milking every last drop from his spent cock, as Methos followed him into sated oblivion.

True awareness returned slowly to Methos; first he became conscious of the warm body snuggled close to his back, an arm cradled round him. He felt as if he'd been shattered into pieces and carefully reassembled so he let himself breathe gently, inhaling the scent of spent passion, relaxing into the comforting embrace. Other things began to impinge on his senses, not least the fact that he was lying in a decidedly damp patch; he squirmed slightly. The arm tightened fractionally and warm lips brushed his shoulder, whispered in his ear.

"Awake now?" Methos tilted his head back a little so Jack could reach his mouth; the resulting kiss was soft and sweet, but not demanding of anything in particular.

"I think so. Just what did you do to me?" A ghost of laughter whispered across his face.

"Only what you did to me first, but I'm not like you so I guess it felt different."

"You can say that again. And you call me evil..."

"You complaining?"

"Anything but." Methos wriggled again uncomfortably in the damp patch. "I need to move, sorry." The confining arm released him, and Methos slithered out of the bed, holding out a hand in invitation. "Shower?"

The shower was only that, both men too exhausted for further play, though they did enjoy exploring each other's bodies. Jack groused about the unfair advantage immortal healing gave Methos as he examined the scratches, finger shaped bruises and tooth marks decorating various bits of his anatomy, while Methos's skin was as unmarked as it had been before they'd tried to devour each other whole.

They were curled up on the sofa, still wrapped in towels when Methos finally succumbed to his curiosity.

"Just how fast do you heal?" He indicated one of Jack's fading bruises.

"Faster than normal, but it depends on what's damaged. If I've broken a leg or something it's quicker to kill myself and have it healed when I come back than hobble around and wait for it to heal naturally. If there's a scar, that stays with me until the next time I die, then it disappears."

"So every time you die it's like pressing a reset button."

"Kind of. Every scar I have was there before I died the first time. That seems to be the point of reference."

"You don't have many; I looked."

"Keeping out of trouble is good for your health."

"Amen to that!" Methos toasted Jack with his coffee, only to be interrupted mid-sip by his stomach rumbling. They both laughed.

"I guess we'd better feed the animals..." They ordered take-away, and fed each other, getting as much food over themselves as they managed to eat. Cleaning each other up led to more play and its inevitable messy conclusion. As they lay panting in each others arms on the used and abused bed, Methos gently traced the contours of Jack's face, only to have his fingers nibbled upon as they brushed the swollen lips.

"Don't you ever get tired, Jack?"

"Of course I do. I just don't sleep much."

"I can tell. However, some of us need our beauty sleep."

"Why would you need beauty sleep? You're already gorgeous..."

"Flatterer. You're not so bad yourself you know." He dropped a kiss onto the damp skin beneath his head, letting his eyes drift shut as fatigue sneaked up on him. Jack shifted slightly, making both their positions more comfortable, and pulled the disordered covers over them.

"Better?" He asked.

"Mmm." Methos snuggled closer as his breathing slowed. Jack smiled into his hair; he wouldn't have guessed Methos would be a snuggler from what he'd known of the ancient immortal, but he loved that he was. Jack closed his own eyes, resting without sleep as Methos drowsed contentedly in his arms.

~*~

It was almost afternoon by the time Methos dragged himself to the hub. Jack had left him at some indecent hour of the morning, but had very wished him a very long and enthusiastic good-bye before he went, leaving Methos in no fit state to go anywhere even if he'd wanted to. He couldn't help but smile at the memory as he walked through the door to the tourist information centre, desperately trying to school his face into a picture of decorum despite what he was feeling inside. Luckily for him it was Siannon who was minding the tourist office and not Ianto.

"I see I don't need to ask what sort of night you had," she commented, grinning. "You look like you've been thoroughly ravished."

"I did some ravishing of my own, too." Methos ducked behind the desk and settled into one of the chairs in the back office.

"A very good night then."

"You could say that."

"It suits you. You should get ravished more often."

"I intend to." The wicked grin had crept back and now lit up his whole face. Siannon smiled fondly at him, and perched on the desk beside his chair.
"I haven't seen you like this for ages, and it took two of us then. I have to admire Jack for his attention to detail." Methos chuckled.

"Now there's a thought..."

"One that you can nip in the bud right now."

"But you said..."

"That was 2 days ago. Things change. If you want a threesome with Jack it isn't going to be with me, or it isn't at the moment anyhow. Ask me in about 75 years and you'll probably get a different answer."

"Why?"

"Ianto. I'd feel like I was betraying him, even though he hasn't actually come right out and said anything. I seem to have become a confidante without intending to be one. Though if you disappear for a bit, Ianto might just surprise you when you return."

"Will he have a problem?"

"With you and Jack? I don't think so, it's completely different. You're both so focused at times that you're more like a force of nature than anything else; Ianto's used to that. Even if he wasn't, you've cast your spell on him and he can't help but see the mystique of the oldest living immortal every time he looks at you so he's halfway to being infatuated with you already. I pale into insignificance beside that." Methos let out a bark of laughter.

"One thing you're not is insignificant."

"That's because you know me too well, but thanks for the compliment." She leaned down to kiss the top of his head, and her lips tingled at the contact. It was her turn to laugh. "How the hell did Jack manage that? Your quickening is positively crackling out of your pores. If you don't get it under control, I refuse to be responsible for the consequences."

"Mm. Sorry." He took a deep breath, and slowly let it out, eyes closing as he focused inward momentarily. "That should be better now." He met her eyes with a smile as she touched his cheek.

"That's more like it. So, do I get details?" Methos shook his head, the smile taking over his whole face and lighting his eyes.

"No way. But I will tell you he found a way to touch me without my quickening blasting him through the wall."

"Touch you? With his inner immortal-ness, whatever it is?"

"Yes."

"Bloody hell. It was good, I take it?"

"That's a bit of an understatement, but yes."

"I think I'm jealous."

"Oh come off it, you haven't got a jealous bone in your body."

"I'm sure I'll find one if I look hard enough."

"I doubt it. I've been looking for centuries and haven't found one yet."

"That's because it's you who's doing the looking. There's about as much point in being jealous of you as there is of being jealous of the wind. You're just..." She made a vague gesture and smiled warmly, patting his cheek as she turned to go back into the lobby once more.

"By the way, where is everyone?" Methos asked. She stopped just short of the bead-curtain before turning to face him.

"Staff meeting. That's why I'm up here holding the fort. Apparently they'd usually just close the place, but with the good weather today I thought I'd best volunteer to divert any waifs and strays. I've actually had 3 customers, including an Irish gent from Limerick. We had a nice chat, he told me he was here for a juggling convention, but got lost."

"What the hell do you do in a juggling convention?"

"Try not to drop things, of course." She disappeared back into the lobby as the outside door opened, admitting another customer. Methos left her to it, and decided to see if she'd been looking at anything interesting on the computer. He was pleasantly surprised; there were pages and pages of information on Jian that looked suspiciously similar to the ones that were David Wong's pride and joy. With a start he realised that he'd probably met their maker, though he hadn't realised it when he first saw the swords. He scrolled through the rest of the information Siannon had discovered; legends about the swords, the ceremonies they'd been used for, their occasional disappearance and rediscovery. The last pages were the initial choreography for what he could only describe as a sword-dance, using aspects of the history of the swords in its stylised movement. When complete, it would be beautiful and a sight to be seen. The curtain rattled as Siannon ducked back into the office.

"I see you've found my little project. Think you're up to it?"

"Up to it? You want me to do this?"

"Both of us, actually. As a thank-you to David Wong."

"I'd love to. You do realise that we're going to have to find somewhere else to practice if you want to surprise him."

"Plenty of room downstairs; plus it will keep you from under Jack's feet and out of trouble. I've even got the right sort of practice blades."

"I'm not even going to ask how you've managed to do that at such short notice."

"I asked David of course. When he finds out why I wanted them I think he'll be pleasantly surprised."

"Surprised? If we can carry this off we'll have the man weeping. He'll love it."

"An appropriate thank-you, then."

"I think so." Siannon looked at her watch and frowned.

"I'm closing this place for lunch; shall we be nice and get something for the others? I think they'll probably need a break by now."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Come on then, you can give me a hand." She led the way out of the tourist office, ensuring the sign read 'closed' and locked the door behind her.

~*~

The whole team were pleased at the arrival of sustenance, especially as it brought the meeting undeniably to a close. Some things were just not discussed in front of outsiders, temporary employees or not. As lunch was passed around, Jack found himself unable to help comparing Methos to the rest of his team. That in itself did not particularly surprise him, but what did was his realisation that the only one who didn't suffer massively in the comparison was Ianto. He filed the fact away mentally, ready to be examined at a later date when he was less preoccupied. Looking up from his barely touched sandwich, he met Siannon's eyes, twinkling with amusement as she winked at him; he couldn't help but smile in response, and wondered how much Methos had said to her. Something must have shown in his face as her grin widened before she turned away, and went to bother Owen instead.

Methos watched that exchange with a smile of his own, and as he glanced around at the rest of the team caught Ianto watching him and Jack with a speculative expression. Their gaze held for a second and Methos recognised the unspoken question in the clear blue eyes. He nodded slightly in acknowledgement, wondering what sort of reaction he would get, half expecting the eyes to go cold and turn away from him. He didn't expect the twitch of a smile as Ianto ducked his head, or the faint blush that the movement was designed to hide. It seemed that Siannon had spoken more truly than she'd realised, a fact that didn't displease Methos at all.

~*~

Later on that afternoon, Methos and Siannon held their first practice session. She'd decided against asking Ianto to disable the CCTV in the archives, although she knew he would have obliged if she had, as the others would just want to know what was going on down there and moan at him until it was back up; she was too fond of Ianto to cause him more problems than he already had. They both knew that watching them at this stage would be boring to say the least as they were just walking through the initial moves; it would be a few days before it began to look interesting.

Jack toyed with the idea of going down to the archives in person to watch, even though he knew it would be a bad idea as their almost preternatural awareness of each other would possibly distract Methos. He contented himself with admiring the grace and power of both immortals, although not equally.

"Now that is beautiful." Ianto deposited the coffee he'd just brought onto Jack's desk, before standing at his shoulder to watch the screen. Jack smiled up at him briefly, but turned his own attention back to his monitor rather quickly, not wanting to miss a single move. "Do you think they realised how distracting they would be?" Ianto asked him.

"I've no doubt they did, but I bet they don't care, especially not him. They'll both know we're watching." As if to confirm that, both immortals waved at the camera during a pause in the routine, followed by a blown kiss from Siannon. Jack chuckled. "See?"

"They've got to know us too well."

"There's no such thing as knowing someone too well, especially someone like that."

"Perhaps." Ianto left Jack to himself and returned to the tourist office and his own work, though he did flick over to the archives CCTV feed every so often. By the time he was ready to call it a day, they had finished. Once he'd locked the door behind the rest of the team after they left, he made his way down to the Hub, and his evening duties. He was surprised to have enthusiastic assistance from Siannon with feeding the pterodactyl; her only comment to his raised eyebrow had been one about liking dinosaurs. They left together, so Jack and Methos were alone once more.

Jack carefully enfolded Methos in his arms.

"I thought they were never going to leave," he whispered before he swooped down for a long and lingering kiss. After he came up for air, Methos chuckled against his lips.

"Carry on like that and we won't be leaving either."

"Don't care."

"Well I do." Methos wriggled out of Jack's embrace and wandered over to the door that hid the way to the garage. He held out his hand in invitation. "Back to my place?" He was answered by a smile and the caress of Jack's fingers on his own as he took the proffered hand. Jack carefully followed the XK8 through the traffic back to the brewery quarter, focusing on the road, the people, and the weather; anything except the person driving the other car. The SUV felt very empty and lonely around him.

Methos had barely got through the door, and still had one arm in his coat, when Jack pounced. The coat joined Jack's bag on the floor in an untidy heap but Methos was not paying it any attention, all his awareness being focused on the hot and demanding mouth that had claimed his own and the body pushed up against him. Need was answered with need and he returned the kiss in kind, fumbling to get Jack's coat off him, and trying to steer him toward the bedroom. They managed to lose the coat, but they never made it as far as the bed, or removing their clothes, before succumbing to desire.

Sometime later Methos was bent over the table, jeans round his ankles with Jack still pressed against him and in him; the hardness of the surface beneath him being a welcome reminder that he was still on the planet.

"You Ok?" Jack whispered against his neck, kissing the spot below his ear gently, completely at odds with the frenzied urgency of their coupling.

"I'm fine." He paused to catch his breath. "I'm just very glad we didn't end up on the floor." He turned his head slightly to cast a glance at the inhospitable laminate flooring and Jack chuckled, the sound vibrating through Methos's body.

"You have a point there." Jack eased carefully out and away from Methos and held out his non-sticky hand to assist him from his awkward position against the table. Methos glanced down at their clasped hands, and realised his t-shirt was just as sticky as Jack's hand. He found a cleaner bit, wiped himself and Jack's hand clean and then peeled the t-shirt off before throwing it in the direction of the bathroom. He gave a Jack a quick once-over as he pulled his jeans back up, and fastened them.

"I hope you have a change of clothes with you, you look sort of debauched."

"Only sort of? You disappoint me." Jack reached for Methos and buried his nose in his neck, inhaling deeply. "You smell gorgeous."

"I smell of sweat and sex." Methos wrapped his arms around Jack and hugged him close.

"Like I said, gorgeous." Jack nibbled gently on the damp skin beneath his lips, Methos shuddered in response, and Jack grinned as he raised his head. "I have never known anyone with such a sensitive neck as you. I can't resist it."

"And I don't want you to."

"Hedonist."

"Sybarite."

"I'm not playing word games with you. Unless I use a language you've never heard of, I'll lose, and I don't like losing."

"Coward."

"Not a coward, a strategist."

"Oh, so that's what you kids are calling it these days." Jack kissed Methos again to shut him up, but they drew apart by mutual consent, sharing a rueful smile. "Bathroom or gadgets, first?" Methos asked.

"Bathroom; you at least *look* half decent." They both laughed, and Methos sauntered over to the fridge, leaving Jack to grab his own jeans and make his way to the bathroom. Jack emerged a short while later with damp hair and wrapped in Methos's robe. He was gingerly holding his shirt and t-shirt. Methos smiled, and put down his beer.

"Yes, you can use the washing machine, but you'll have to ask nicely."

"Please?"

"It's all yours. And why are you wearing my robe? I thought you had a change of clothes..."

"I have, but you're only going to take them off again."

"True. I'll let you off then." Methos grabbed his abandoned t-shirt and shoved it in the machine with Jack's clothes before disappearing into the bathroom himself. When Methos came back out into the main room he noticed that Jack had set up his gadgetry on the table once again, but he had used his own laptop; that didn't entirely surprise Methos after his reluctance in parting with his own the day before. What did surprise him was that Jack had raided the fridge and laid out a stack of finger foods on the coffee table by the sofa.

"Nice towel." Said Jack, waving a piece of carrot in the air. "Here, come and eat, I think I saved you some..." Methos made his way over and joined Jack on the sofa. What Jack had neglected to mention was that he wasn't going to allow Methos to feed himself. After the umpteenth time of having his hands swatted away after trying to reach for something, Methos took the hint and gave up with good grace, secretly enjoying every minute of the attention.

"I haven't been waited on like this for centuries." Methos commented, without moving from his relaxed sprawl against the cushions "If you ever need another job, I'll keep you in mind." Jack raised an eyebrow.

"References might be a problem." He said. Methos waved a hand dismissively before continuing,

"Who cares about references, experience and enthusiasm are what count. You seem to have both."

"What about terms and conditions?"

"You get to sleep with the boss, what more do you want?"

"I'll have to remember that one." Jack chuckled, then paused briefly before adding, "Might come in useful sometime."

"You mean you haven't..." Methos didn't get to finish the sentence before he was interrupted.

"Nope."

"With any of your teams?"

"Not one."

"Why the hell not? You don't strike me as someone who would let a personal relationship get in the way of professionalism."

"Maybe in another job, but Torchwood is different. And none of them felt quite... right."

"I'm surprised."

"So am I; I never used to be so restrained."

"I can imagine. However, you don't seem to have that problem with me." Methos's grin was pure mischief. Jack decided to ignore it, and offer the truth in explanation instead of playing along.

"You're not Torchwood. But you also feel very, very right. It makes a difference."

"Maybe that's because you've allowed me closer than the others."

"Or maybe it's because you aren't demanding anything that I'm not prepared to give."

"You know, I don't really care. Right now I'm living, and loving every minute of it." Methos scrambled off the sofa, conveniently leaving the towel behind, and grabbed Jack's hand to bring him to his feet too. "I'll even prove it." He said as he hauled them both back toward the bedroom.

~*~

The next few days for Methos all followed the same sort of rhythm; mornings were his, usually to catch up on his sleep, afternoons belonged to Siannon and Torchwood but the late evening and nights were his and Jack's alone. Methos was happy, and found he was dreading the phone call that would pull him back to the 'normal' life that he had built for himself. There were only 2 people in Cardiff who knew him well enough to notice, but only one who was likely to mention it; which she did when they were alone, practicing.

The sword-dance was progressing well; Siannon had finished the choreography and they'd gone beyond the stage of learning the sequence of moves and steps. Gradually, they were bringing themselves up to speed, ingraining each position of sword and body into muscle memory. They were taking a break when Siannon looked up at Methos from where she was leaning against the wall, and smiled.

"So, how are you and Jack doing?" She asked casually.

"Do you really need to ask?"

"Not really, but I can't help being curious."

"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not giving out details."

"Not even to me?"

"Especially not to you." Methos glared at her, and Siannon laughed.

"No harm in trying," she observed.

"I suppose I might as well tell you that he wants to come down and watch, rather than catching us on the CCTV."

"Catching you, you mean." She was thoughtful for a second. "Do you think you can keep your hands off each other for longer than 5 minutes?"

"With you right next to us and having easy access to more than one sword? No problem. Anyway, I think me ignoring him for a bit will do us both good."

"I'll make sure I keep you distracted then; starting from... now!" She hefted the practice blade back into position before Methos had a chance to alter his own stance, and he had to respond quickly to ensure he didn't end up with a welt or worse. They finished the session with no more mishaps.

"I think we're almost ready." Methos commented while they were putting away the practice gear.

"Almost. Your Jack should get to see at least one decent run through."

"He's not *my* Jack."

"No? Could have fooled me." She looked up into Methos's eyes to find a rather odd expression on his face that contained nothing of his usual cynicism or humour. "Oh why don't you just admit that you don't want to leave him and go back to your life?"

"I can't."

"And he's the same, I'll bet. Men!" She shook her head as she continued to stash things in her bag. "If you can't say anything, make a romantic gesture sometime; wine and dine him, go for the big seduction."

"Bit late for the seduction." Methos leered.

"You know what I mean. Satisfy *all* your needs, not just the physical. He won't know what's hit him. And anyway..." she gave Methos her best Mona-Lisa smile.

"What? I'm not sure I trust that expression."

"There's nothing that looks as erotic as flushed skin by candlelight; give yourselves a chance to remember that. I'll even get you the candles as a leaving present."

"You... Words fail me."

"Now that's what I like to see, Methos speechless." She straightened, and kissed him gently. "I meant it, you know." Grabbing her bag, she strode down the corridor to the stairs that would take her to the upper floors, leaving Methos staring thoughtfully after her. He nurtured the thought during the long night that followed, and throughout the next day, before letting her know that he agreed. With her collaboration, and a set of spare keys to his flat in the Brewery Quarter, he began to lay his plans.

The first part of their plan passed without a hitch. Their performance for David Wong, and a few members of his family, had been everything they'd both hoped for. The moment of stunned silence that greeted its completion said more than the most effusive of speeches could ever have hoped to, as did the cacophony of voices, all saying thank you in a mixture of Chinese and English, which followed it. They left on an emotional high, which lasted most of the way back to the Hub, until Methos received a phone call. Siannon was very glad that she had been driving as Methos face became more like thunder with every terse 'yes' and 'no' he gave to the person on the other end of the phone. As the call finished he slammed the phone down on the dashboard.

"Fuck!" He growled. Siannon, glanced over in sympathy to find Methos determinedly staring out of the window, hands tightly clenched in his lap. She turned her attention back to the road; crashing the car wouldn't accomplish anything.

"How long?" She asked.

"I have to leave the day after tomorrow." Methos forced himself to relax, before his fingernails left marks on his hands.

"Fuck was right. You'll have to make it tomorrow night then. Be a great way to say goodbye..."

"More like au revoir. I intend to be a recurring thorn in Jack Harkness's side."

"He'll love that."

"So will I." They met each other's eyes with a quick smile.

"Don't forget about Ianto," she cautioned.

"I won't." Methos's smile became wider, and passed into the realms of indecent.

"Oh shit, I know that look. Poor boy doesn't stand a chance and he isn't even aware of it yet. Are you going to tell Jack?"

"About Ianto?" Siannon answered him with a nod, as she concentrated on driving. Methos continued. "I don't think so. I'll let them find out for themselves and merely take advantage of the situation when I drop in for my next visit."

"You are an Evil old man."

"So I've been told. It's part of my charm, don't you think?" Methos sighed. "I suppose I'd better let everyone know that I'll be leaving sooner rather than later after all. I don't think disappearing with no warning would sit well with this lot."

"It doesn't particularly sit well with anyone; some of us just don't expect anything different, plus we're used to it." She pulled the car into the space she used when working at the Hub, and passed his phone back to him, with accompanying shooing gestures. "Go and break the bad news; I'll follow you in."

Methos was ensconced in Jack's office by the time Siannon arrived in the Hub, she headed in that direction only to be distracted by Ianto and a cup of coffee.

"You aren't leaving as well are you?" He asked as he handed her a mug.

"Me? No. You're going to have the pleasure of my company until at least the end of the month." She indicated the office with a jerk of her head. "He hadn't intended on leaving so soon either. Unfortunately, Duty Calls."

"I know all about Duty." Ianto said harshly.

"I suppose you would." She replied, thinking of the Watchers, and patted his shoulder. He smiled wryly at her, but they said nothing more for they were joined by the others, all wanting to know why Adam was leaving at such short notice. It was Owen who initially suggested they should all go out that night, and Siannon who was volunteered to go and tell Jack of their decision once they'd all agreed that it would be a good idea. She wasn't sure exactly what sort of scene she would find in Jack's office, but both Jack and Methos were sitting decorously in their chairs on opposite sides of the desk, Jack with a coffee and Methos with a beer. She took the fact that there were no signs of violence as a good thing though neither man looked particularly happy. She perched on the desk between them, brushing Methos's shoulder with her fingers as she passed him, but focusing her attention on Jack when she spoke.

"Stop glowering at each other. He doesn't *want* to leave, he *has* to leave. Now are you two going to kiss and make up and come out with us for a drink?"

"Kissing sounds good." Jack said, his resigned expression turning into a smile.

"So does a drink," Methos added. Siannon smiled at them both and looked at her watch.

"I'll give you 2 minutes for the kissing, then I'm coming back to drag you out for the drink. You can catch up on the rest afterwards." She slid off the desk and took a step toward the door.

"Can't we leave the drink until tomorrow?" Jack asked with a glance at Methos. Siannon noticed, and fought to keep the wicked grin off her face as she replied,

"I doubt it; I think you'll be too busy." Jack looked at her retreating back, then at Methos again, who shrugged as if to say 'crazy woman, nothing to do with me'. Jack almost dived out of his chair, reaching for one of Methos's hands to pull him out of his own.

"If we've only got 2 minutes kissing time, I'm starting sooner rather than later." Jack said, though he was fairly certain no explanation was required, and suited action to words. Methos didn't complain; he had no breath left to speak

In the meantime, Siannon ushered the rest of the team out of the hub telling them that Jack and Adam would be following shortly. No-one looked back to check if they were, but Ianto did meet her eyes with a grin, as she glanced at her watch before turning back into the hub.

They had a good night, filled with a lot of laughter as the rest of the team hadn't been subjected to some of the more ludicrous of Methos's stories. Eventually they began to drift off and go their separate ways until only Siannon, Jack and Methos were left. Siannon began to gather her things, only to be stopped by the touch of a familiar hand on hers.

"You don't have to go," Methos said. She looked up at him, then at Jack, smiled and very gently took Methos's hand from her own, placing it into Jack's.

"Yes I do. You know why." She leaned over to kiss them both, and left without another word. Jack curled his fingers around Methos's hand and drew it to his lips, gently brushing the knuckles with a kiss.

"Was that a proposition?" He asked, curiously. "Not that I mind of course."

"I didn't think you would, and yes it was. I asked her a few days ago and she told me to ask again in 75 years. Not that time makes any difference to us, as long as we keep our heads."

"A skill you've both been practising for centuries. Why 75 years though?"

"Why not?" He poked Jack in the ribs. "You're still thinking like a mortal. Stop it."

"I think I need some encouragement to remind me not to." Methos let out a bark of laughter.

"The last thing *you* need is encouragement." He stood up, and reached for Jack's hand. "Coming?"

"As soon as I can," Jack replied with a smirk, taking the outstretched hand and following Methos out of the bar.

~*~

In the morning, most of the team were quieter than usual, but no pointed remarks about the advantages of water over alcohol were forthcoming from Jack; he kept himself to himself and deflected all attempts to persuade him otherwise. Siannon and Ianto gave up trying after a while; if Jack was determined to brood, then he could brood. They both had better things to do with their time. Ianto went back to the tourist office, and Siannon returned to the peace of the archives; a peace that was broken by Owen paying her an unprecedented visit. He didn't really have much to say directly, but Siannon could tell that he was lamenting over missed opportunities. The part of her that was a doctor and scientist understood completely, but she knew that to ask Methos to undergo the same tests she had enthusiastically participated in would have been an invasion of his closely guarded privacy in a way that Owen would never be able to comprehend. That in itself was something of an anomaly when Methos's usual stance on the power of knowledge was taken into consideration. She was still mulling that over when something clicked in her mind.

"Dagda's Balls! The answer's been sitting under our noses all the time!" She leapt out of her chair, grabbed Owen by the arm and dragged him out of the room.

"Siannon, what the fuck are you on about?" He tried to dig his heels in, but she was inexorable, and he helplessly followed her down the corridor.

"The tests you did on me; how many of them have to be done on living tissue?"

"Ideally all of them, but you can get results from cadaver samples that can be tallied up fairly well with normal ones; otherwise forensics would have a hell of a time. Why?"

"Who have you got in cold storage?" Siannon asked as she clattered up the steps with Owen hot on her heels; he was afire with curiosity now, and followed voluntarily.

"What do you mean..." He trailed off as the penny finally dropped. "Of course, we've still got Ryan bloody Kendrick in there. Fuck. Now why didn't we remember that a week ago?"

"Probably because we've all been distracted. Some people have that effect on you." Owen was already making his way to the cold storage area, but he stopped long enough to throw a smile over his shoulder.

"Want to give me hand to see if our friend can still reveal anything interesting?"

"Don't mind if I do." Together they made their way to see if a dead immortal could provide any information for the living.

Most of what they did that day involved the taking of various samples as quickly as possible; the time for analysis would come later, once the body was safely back in cold storage and not at risk of decomposition. They worked in harmony, with little of the bickering that usually characterised Owen's interactions. Siannon was very glad that no-one decided to investigate until they'd put Kendrick back where they'd got him; she didn't want to have to explain what their motives were, especially not to Methos and not this day of all days. She glanced at her watch.

"Owen, do you mind if I leave you to it? I have to go." Owen appeared to be glued to the eyepiece of his microscope, and remained silent; he did give Siannon a vague gesture that she construed as the OK to leave. She was pleased to see that Methos was in the main part of the Hub, and working at 'their' terminal; it meant he was mostly out of earshot. She wandered over in his direction.

"I'm off out, do you want to come with me?" She asked. Methos turned in his seat and gave her a warm smile.

"I'd rather not. I'd like it to be a surprise for me, too."

"I'll take extra care then. I want tonight to be special for you both."

"Not as much as I do."

"I know we'll all do our best to make sure it is." She gave him an impudent grin as she turned to leave, waving at the others on the way past but not stopping to talk. She was a woman with a mission; she had to turn Methos's rather utilitarian flat into the love-nest she had accused it of being when she first saw it, without the changes she wrought being too out of character for Methos and more importantly ensuring nothing damaged the flat. It was a task she was rather looking forward to, even if she wasn't going to be the beneficiary of all her hard work.

~*~

Back in the Hub, it was business as usual. There had been some reports of odd occurrences near Newport, which Jack felt could possibly be a minor temporal anomaly. He decided to take Toshiko and have a look as there was nothing else that urgently needed his attention. Just as they were about to leave, Methos impishly announced;

"The Latin for hello is 'Salve', or 'Ave' if you're being more formal; you might need it."

"What on earth for?" Tosh asked, looking somewhat bemused. Jack answered before Methos could.

"The II Augusta legion was based at Carleon for about 200 years, that's not far from Newport. He probably thinks it's just good old Roman ghosts."

"You never know." Methos said.

"That's why we're going; I'd like to find out one way or the other. By the way, what's goodbye?" Jack grinned. He was met with an answering smile from the old immortal.

"Vale or valeas."

"Thanks. Come on Tosh, let's see if the Romans are waiting."

The Hub seemed empty without Jack's presence to fill it. Owen was busy in the autopsy room and Gwen was chasing loose ends that the police had left untied. Methos was somewhat amused that half the loose end chasing involved her chatting to someone called Andy. Though they were both apparently engrossed in their respective tasks, he didn't trust either of them not to eavesdrop on any conversation of his, so he took himself into Jack's now deserted office to make a few phone calls.

Ianto appeared with coffee as Methos finished his last call, and managed to catch him with an unguarded expression on his face. Placing the mug down next to Methos, Ianto gave a smile of his own. He turned to leave, and then stopped. Turning back again he asked,

"Would you be planning something for tonight?" Methos's glance up into Ianto's eyes was full of suspicion.

"I might be. Why?" He replied.

"If you were, and you needed more help, I'm your man. Good at organising things, you see..." Methos was fairly certain there was an undercurrent to Ianto's words that was not apparent in their plain meaning. His eyes narrowed speculatively.

"And I'll ask you again. Why?" Ianto took a breath to answer, but didn't get the chance to say anything immediately as Methos added, "And I want the truth, Ianto. I'll know if you lie to me." Ianto moved to take a perch on the desk, being careful to avoid the coffee. The look he gave Methos was surprisingly intense.

"Because being with you has broken down some of Jack's barriers. For me, for all of us, that can only be a good thing. I'd like to help if I can." There was silence for a few moments as they both searched each others eyes.

"There is one thing..." Methos said, leaving the statement hanging in the air between them.

"And that is?"

"Would you be able to drive the SUV to the Brewery Quarter later on tonight? Siannon will give you a lift home."

"I think I could manage that. I..." Further conversation was interrupted by Methos's phone announcing a text message. He glanced at it, and burst out laughing. Ianto stared at him, slightly puzzled.

"That was Siannon." Methos offered in explanation. "She just asked me if I could ask you to drop off the SUV later, said she'd give you a lift home."

"Now is this a case of great minds think alike?"

"Of course. Do I look like a fool?"

"Not in the slightest. I'll text her and let her know."

"Great." Ianto attempted to leave the office once more, but again didn't get far; he was stopped by the sound of his name. "Ianto?" He turned his head to find Methos smiling broadly. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"I'm glad I could help." Ianto replied and finally managed to make an escape, thinking that Methos's smile was way too dangerous and incredibly sexy. He squashed that thought down with all the others he didn't dare acknowledge, but found it kept re-surfacing. He found himself hoping he would have the opportunity to see more than a smile at some point in the future.

Jack and Tosh returned in high spirits. There was the possibility that temporal disturbances had been occurring around the old amphitheatre in Carleon as their readings taken on site had indicated something was not quite normal there, but the cause of the immediate problem had been a couple of Roman re-enactors, who had been wandering around in costume for the last few days, off site. Tosh couldn't help giggling as she regaled them with the story, particularly when she got to the bit where Jack had said 'hello' in Latin to the two not-Romans, much to their amazement. It was good to end the day on a high note, so Jack sent them all home. Ianto, as usual, left later than everyone else after he had completed his evening duties. Jack didn't miss the affectionate half smile Ianto gave Methos as he left, and wondered what the story behind it was as he watched the door roll close behind him.

Jack didn't get the chance to wonder for long, as a pair of arms encircled his waist and warm lips were pressed against his neck. He relaxed back into Methos's embrace without a second thought, and the arms squeezed tighter for a moment before releasing him.

"I hope you haven't got anything planned for tonight." Methos said offhandedly.

"Oh just the same old, same old..." Jack answered in the same vein, until he remembered Siannon's comment the day before about him being too busy for a drink. His curiosity was piqued. "Why?"

"Because, Jack Harkness," Methos grabbed him by the hand and began to lead him toward the door. "I finally get to take you on a proper date; a drive in the country, good food and better company, a little music, that sort of thing."

"And afterwards?"

"I'm not revealing any details, but I can guarantee you'll enjoy yourself."

"Don't I always?"

"Ah, but tonight is going to be special because I'm going to treat you like you truly deserve. I think it's time someone did." Jack looked like he was trying to decide between whether he felt worried or flattered by that comment, and Methos tugged gently on his hand in a wordless prompt to get him moving again. Eventually he succeeded and they made their way to the outside world, only to stop by a familiar XK8.

"We're going in your car?"

"Looks that way." Methos smiled as he watched Jack run an appreciative hand over the paintwork. He knew how that sort of caress felt, the car didn't know how lucky she was.

"Great!" Jack was all puppy-like enthusiasm, almost bouncing on his toes.

"I did promise you a spin, remember; I just never got round to it. Well tonight, I'm making up for that." He opened the door and gestured for Jack to get in, which he did with alacrity. Methos bit his lip to stifle the snort that threatened to escape, though he was reassured by the apparent fact that 51st century boys still liked their toys. He slid into the driver's seat, and gunned the engine, which reverberated with a gratifying purr. Jack shared a grin with him, and settled deeper into his seat.

"I thought Jaguars were all beige leather and walnut veneer before I saw this." Jack commented, indicating the aluminium and charcoal interior. Methos chuckled as he put the car into gear and pulled away.

"Did you really think I was a beige and walnut person?" He asked. Jack's answering laugh filled the car as they hit the road.

~*~

Methos poured on the power as they left the city lights behind them and the car sped away. Their destination turned out to be an old coaching inn partway to the Brecon Beacons, which meant that there had been plenty of opportunity for Methos to proudly show off the car's handling capabilities. As he pulled into the car park, they were both wearing huge smiles. Methos was pleased to discover that the old inn was everything he'd been reassured it would be; the main part of it was still in use as a pub with many of its old fixtures and fittings remaining in place which bestowed an air of living history on everything, and the stable block had been converted into a reasonably sized but intimate restaurant. Jack's eyes shone with appreciation as they were shown to a table in a secluded corner.

"How did you manage to discover this place?" He asked after they'd been seated

"I have my sources," Methos replied enigmatically, smiling gently. Jack chuckled.

"And if you revealed them you'd have to kill me, I suppose."

"Something like that."

"Then I'll ignore my curiosity and just enjoy myself." He reached across the table and gave Methos's fingers a quick squeeze, which was returned in kind.

"That was the general idea."

They had no trouble enjoying themselves; the food *was* good and the company better. They both relished the chance to spend some quality time together without the outside world intruding, and probably revealed more to each other about themselves than they had intended as they let the barriers between them fade to nothing, creating almost as great an intimacy as anything else they had shared. That air of intimacy without overwhelming desire cocooned them until they arrived back in Cardiff, when it began to fray at the edges. Methos had, much to Jack's delight, allowed Jack to drive back. The closer they got to 'home' the more Methos found himself concentrating on the way Jack's hands moved on the steering wheel and gear stick than the way he was driving. By the wicked grin that Jack gave him, he was entirely aware of it too. As they pulled into the car park Jack noted the presence of the SUV with a sidelong glance at Methos and a raised eyebrow, but said nothing as he slid the XK8 into the space next to it. Methos silently thanked Siannon and Ianto, and suppressed the thrill of anticipation that ran through him; he wanted nothing to show on his face to forewarn Jack of what waited for them.

As soon Methos opened the door to the flat he could tell the difference. He stopped just inside and inhaled appreciatively; sandalwood he recognised immediately but there were underlying notes to the scent that he could not, myrrh perhaps, and something else. Jack almost barrelled into him, muttering, then fell silent as he glanced around, noting the subtle changes in lighting, the scent, the music playing. Methos grabbed his hand, pulled him further into the room, and kicked the door shut.

"Someone's been busy," Jack commented.

"It's a gift from a very generous heart," Methos replied with a smile, gently removing Jack's coat and hanging it beside his own. "And I suggest we don't waste it." He held out his hand. "Dance?" He asked. Jack acquiesced and let himself be drawn into Methos's arms, moving to the music slowly and in complete harmony as their lips met. As Methos gently dusted kisses over Jack's face and neck he pushed the braces down and began to undo the buttons of Jack's shirt; the music forgotten. The shirt was carefully removed, followed by the t-shirt; warm breath puffed across exposed skin and Jack shivered with pleasure.

"I feel like I'm being unwrapped."

"Maybe you are. I just haven't taken the time to appreciate my present..." Methos guided Jack to the couch and made him sit down. "And appreciating you is something I have every intention of doing very thoroughly." Jack's attempted reply was swallowed by another kiss, but he decided he didn't care as the kiss moved from mouth, to neck, to shoulder leaving him tingling in its wake.

Methos blazed a trail across Jack's exposed skin with lips, teeth and tongue, and couldn't keep from smiling at the sounds every touch produced. As his tongue swirled Jack's belly button, he cast a glance upward at a particularly frantic moan and drank in the sight of Jack gasping, head lolled on the back of the couch as if he hadn't the strength to support it; another swipe with his tongue and the moan was accompanied by Jack's hips bucking upwards. Methos took pity and began to undo Jack's trousers, gentle fingers carefully freeing his burgeoning cock.

"Methos...please...." Jack sounded desperate. Methos licked the head of his cock once, then raised his eyes to catch Jack staring at him, his bright blue gaze darkened with need.

"Begging, Jack?" Methos teased.

"You bet I am." Jack panted in reply.

"Seeing as you asked so nicely..." Methos lowered his head once more and after another couple of teasing licks that had Jack gasping for more, he obliged, taking the full length into his waiting mouth. He worshipped Jack's cock with all his being, wanting every lick, every graze of his teeth and every suck to mean something. Jack was moaning incoherently in no time at all, the fingers in Methos's hair lax and trembling. Methos hummed around Jack's cock, almost grinning as he felt the effort Jack made not to thrust up hard into the hot wetness that surrounded him, and then with no warning deep throated him. The resulting shout from Jack might have contained his name, but Methos couldn't be entirely sure as he swallowed every last drop of Jack's release.

Methos was carefully undoing Jack's boots when he heard his name whispered from above him. He slithered upwards to answer with a kiss, knowing Jack would still be able to taste himself. One still-shaky hand cupped his face, the other touched his trapped erection. Methos carefully removed the hand from his crotch and gave Jack another kiss.

"Tonight isn't about me. It's about you." He silenced Jack's protest with fingertips on his mouth before it was articulated. "And in the process we're both going to seriously enjoy ourselves. Let me do things my way, ok?"

"What about you? You can't deny what you want."

"I'm not trying to. I'm just deferring the conclusion for a while; I've had more practice at doing that than you have, so I thought I'd relieve the tension a bit."

"Thanks." Jack laughed breathlessly, his head thumping back against the couch. Methos slid back to the floor and continued to undo and remove Jack's boots; then decided to take off his own while he was at it. He laid both pairs of boots off to one side where they wouldn't be tripped over by either of them. A quick upward glance established that Jack was still relaxed against the back of the couch, eyes closed, though his breathing was quickly returning to normal and Methos decided to lose his own clothes in double quick time.

"I wanted to do that..." Jack announced petulantly as Methos was folding up his clothes.

"Tough. And anyway, I haven't finished with you, yet." That said, Methos hooked his fingers into the waistband of Jack's trousers, and after an accommodating lift of his hips from Jack, pulled them off in one smooth motion and carefully deposited them with the rest of the clothes. Methos took a step back to enjoy the view, and grinned. He held out a hand, which Jack clasped firmly in his own, and dropped a quick kiss onto his fingers before hauling him to his feet and into his arms. They stood wrapped around each other for a short while, savouring the touch of skin on skin, but not demanding anything more of each other. Methos broke the embrace, and took Jack's hand once more. With a brief stop at the fridge for a bottle of water, he gently led Jack toward the bedroom.

Jack knew that something would be different about the room he'd spent the last few nights in, but he hadn't expected quite what greeted his senses. The scent that permeated the flat was stronger, but not unpleasantly so, and the air was warm from the presence of many candles casting their light in a wash of golden flickering colour that created some very interesting patterns of light and shadow where it hit uncovered skin. Even the bed looked different, with a few more cushions scattered across its surface, and a deep red throw that reflected the candlelight warmly placed in just the right position at the base of the bed for an exhausted and uncoordinated person to reach out and pull over themselves.

"This is... unexpected." Jack murmured. "Beautiful, though. You look good by candlelight." Methos laughed softly.

"I think that was the general idea. Now go lie down." Jack obliged. "On your stomach, if you don't mind." Once Jack had turned over, Methos moved to one side of the bed, and selected a bottle from the box that had been left there, before settling on the bed between Jack's legs. He poured some oil into his hands, warming it between them before he leaned down to massage Jack's shoulders and neck.

"Ohh, that's good."

"Relax and enjoy, Jack." Methos's intent was to make Jack intensely aware of his skin, without over stimulating him, as well as getting him relaxed enough that he would be more open to other sensations. It was an added bonus that his oiled skin gleamed with a hint of gold in the candlelight, giving Methos a visual feast as the tension was smoothed away. From neck, to back, to legs and feet Methos steadily worked, kneading knotted muscles, soothing tense areas with deep therapeutic strokes. Jack turned over at his bidding without a hint of protest or innuendo, and Methos continued his journey in reverse, from feet upwards. The candles kept the air warm enough that neither was uncomfortable, and they both lost themselves in the meditative power of touch.

It took Jack a few moments to realise that Methos had stopped. One oily hand was still on his shoulder, but the other was rummaging round somewhere else.

"What?..." The hand moved to caress his face, and Methos looked deep into his eyes.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, softly. Jack ran that thought through his head; it was something he'd avoided asking himself. He answered with the truth.

"Here and now, completely. Otherwise, I'm not sure."

"Here and now is all I ask." Methos finally brought the item in his other hand into Jack's vision; it was a strip of dark silk, just the right size to be used as a blindfold. "May I?" He asked carefully, holding the silk in such a way that it was completely unthreatening. Jack answered by raising his head, allowing Methos to tie it round his eyes. It was obviously something the old immortal had some practice in doing as it completely blocked Jack's vision, but did not feel uncomfortable or too restrictive. He smiled.

"Kinky old man."

"You'll love it, believe me."

"Oh I believe you alright. You going to tie me up as well?"

"Do you want me to?" Methos asked, Jack sensed an intense undercurrent to Methos's voice, a hint of something darker. It made him think; did he really want to be tied up by Death.

"Not right now." He replied hesitantly.

"Then I won't. I'd have to improvise anyway; I hadn't taken that into consideration."

"Oh."

"And with your hands free, you can take that blindfold off whenever you want." Jack hadn't thought of that either, and found it profoundly reassuring. It was the last clear thought he had, as Methos began to touch him once more.

Blindfolded, Jack had no idea where each touch was going to land, or what would be behind it; whether it would be mouth or fingers or something else. Mouth and fingers were familiar enough not to make him twitch, though he felt his skin was tingling at each gentle brush of lips or fingertips. Then his skin really tingled as he was touched by what felt like nothing more than the brush of electricity. Gasping at the shock he realised it was Methos's quickening, and actually not that unpleasant at all.

"You ok?" Methos whispered.

"More than ok. Don't you dare stop now."

"I've no intention of stopping just yet." True to his word, he continued, the gentle shocks of his quickening touching Jack's skin becoming more frequent and more intense as Methos allowed more to escape from behind his internal barriers. Methos was soon breathing almost as heavily as Jack; maintaining the concentration required to enable him touch Jack with his quickening was hard work, particularly with a body that was doing its best to distract him with its own ever increasing demands. However, the result was worth every effort as Jack writhed and moaned beneath each touch, no matter how gentle, his cock now rigid and leaking. Methos paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of a blindfolded, needy Jack, skin flushed and highlighted with flickering golden light. He clamped down a little on his quickening, and reached for the lube.

Jack was on fire, inside and out. Methos had him completely dazed so focused was he on the sensation of touch. Jack doubted he would have had the strength or coordination to remove the blindfold if he'd wanted to, he couldn't even speak beyond stuttered syllables that made no sense in any language except that of desire. When Methos touched the entrance to his body with careful fingers that still tingled slightly with his quickening, Jack's brain went into overload. He was vaguely aware that the blindfold was removed, but he still couldn't see, his eyes blinded by flickers of gold and lightning. A wordless voice soothed and stimulated as the lightning passed into his body, touching his inmost self, seeking, stroking, filling him. Hot and hungry lips were pressed to his, and more lightning coursed through his body; Jack gave back all he had.

Methos groaned harshly, breathing hard and fast as he plunged into Jack's body. He couldn't resist the demand in the near-sightless eyes and leaned down to take Jack's mouth as his cock was taking his body. What he hadn't expected was Jack's instinctive outpouring of self into the kiss, and the sudden coursing of golden light through his own body, tracking the path of his quickening. Lightning met fire, and wrapped around it in joyful recognition, totally overloading the senses of the humans who contained such power. Joined body, soul and mind; Methos and Jack came together violently with a wordless scream, in a sharing so intimate, neither had any resistance to the encroaching darkness that followed release.

They came back to themselves clinging to each other, shivering with reaction and ridiculously happy. Neither felt able to articulate anything, but they said everything they needed to with a tender brush of lips. Methos slithered to one side, holding and being held, while Jack pulled the soft red cover over them both. They drifted into sleep, the golden glow flecked with blue lighting that surrounded them slowly fading.

By the time they woke, it was almost morning and they were still feeling dazed and a little bit shaky. Methos gently brushed the hair out of Jack's eyes, and kissed his forehead. Jack smiled, and pulled Methos in for a more thorough kiss. He was still smiling when they broke it.

"Methos."

"Jack." They shared another kiss. Jack glanced at his watch.

"I have to go soon."

"I know."

"I..." Jack couldn't think of how to explain what he was feeling, so he settled for kissing Methos again before sliding out of bed. He stood by the bed for a second and let the sight of a thoroughly dishevelled Methos imprint itself on his brain. Methos smiled lazily up at him.

"This is where you ask me to take a shower with you, and we prove to each other that we're still alive and on the same planet."

"That sounds like an incredibly good idea." Jack grinned and held out a hand. "Shower?" Methos took his hand and replied,

"Don't mind if I do." By the time they reached the bathroom they were awake, and playing in the shower an enticing prospect, which they did to its enjoyable and sticky conclusion. Luckily there was enough warm water left for them both to get clean afterwards, and they carefully dried each other, silently saying a good bye to each piece of skin.

Once dressed, Jack gathered together all the things that had taken residence in Methos's flat over the last week or so. Bag in hand, he paused by the door, looking almost bereft. Methos smiled at him, and made shooing gestures.

"Go on, go. I'll be over later once everything's sorted here."

"I know, it's just..." Methos carefully gathered Jack in his arms, hugged him tight and kissed him softly.

"I do understand. Truly. Now go." He gently pushed Jack out of the door. "I'll see you later."

~*~

When he felt the buzz of another immortal, Methos knew his barely formed idea of just leaving and avoiding the unpleasantness of goodbyes was well and truly scuppered. He half heartedly kicked the bag at his feet in annoyance. There was only one person it could be at this time, a fact that was confirmed by the sound of a key in the lock of the front door. He waited for the sound of the door closing before he said anything.

"Hi Siannon. I'm in the bedroom." He smiled at the soft chuckle she gave, and waited for the inevitable comment.

"Are you sure it's safe for me to come in?"

"It is now..." He stuffed the last of his clothes into the bag and turned to face her, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Though I'm glad you didn't arrive a couple of hours earlier."

"I'll bet. I kind of guessed that by the expression on Jack's face this morning."

"So, is there any particular reason for the pleasure of your company, or did you just want to make sure I didn't escape without anyone knowing?"

"Oh that to the escaping," she gestured. "How far do you think you'd get with them watching every CCTV feed out of the city?"

"You have a point."

"Seriously though, I just came by to see if you needed a hand."

"As you can see, I'm fine."

"Are you completely sure about that?" Siannon asked. Methos sighed; that was the downside of having good friends, they always asked awkward questions.

"Let me rephrase that; I'm as fine as I can be. Now stop pestering me." She acknowledged that with a slight nod, and complied.

"By the way, Ianto said not to worry about anything that wasn't personal; he'll sort it all out later."

"With your help I presume?"

"Probably."

"In that case, I think I'm just about ready to leave. Apart from this," he indicated the bag on the floor, "Everything else I want to take with me is by the front door." He bent to pick up the bag and followed Siannon out into the main living area. She opened the main door, looking back at him over her shoulder. Her eyes met his, challenging and seeking reassurance at the same time.

"Well?"

"I'll follow you. If I haven't arrived at the Hub in half an hour you can come back and drag me there bodily. I won't disappear." Methos let his eyes say everything that remained unspoken between them, and he recognised the understanding in hers. She blinked to break the contact and then grinned as she said,

"You'd better not disappear, or the next time I see you I'll give you a haircut you'll never forget." She swept out, leaving Methos alone with his thoughts. He moved through the flat one last time, remembering, and carefully cataloguing his memories of the last couple of weeks; his first encounter with Jack Harkness was one he never wanted to forget, no matter how many more they might have in both their futures.

Methos walked through the door of the Hub's tourist office 20 minutes later. Ianto said nothing, as he was busy on the phone but the smile and sparkle in his eyes said everything he was unable to. Methos couldn't help but answer with a smile of his own as Ianto opened the door to the hub for him and waved him through with a gesture that promised he would be down soon.

Most of the good-byes would be easy enough; he'd not become close to any of the team apart from Jack and Ianto, and saying goodbye to Siannon was never more than the equivalent of 'I'll see you later' even if later ended up being in 20 years. After handshakes and brief hugs with Owen, Tosh and Gwen he gave Siannon a hug and a kiss, which she returned, her green eyes laughing at him.

"Don't be a stranger," she said, and moved away, taking a place beside Ianto who had just arrived. Methos took a step closer, and unexpectedly pulled Ianto into a hug; only Siannon saw the gleam in his eyes as he did so.

"Watch over him for me?" Methos whispered to Ianto.

"Always," was the fervent reply.

Then there was only Jack; he stood apart from the others, close to the lift and Methos walked slowly toward him. He stopped a couple of paces away.

"This isn't goodbye, you know."

"I'm glad to hear that." Jack said. "Shall we go?" He held out a hand as he stepped up onto the lift slab. Methos took Jack's hand without hesitation, and joined him. They stood close, though not touching apart from their joined fingers, but from that moment no-one else existed in the Hub. As the lift rose, nothing disturbed their absorption in each other, not even a parting shriek from Myfanwy.

When the lift came to a halt, Methos took Jack into his arms and kissed him passionately. Jack responded with wild abandon tempered by a thread of sadness, only breaking the kiss as the need for air outweighed other considerations. They shared a smile as Methos cradled Jack's face, before dropping one last feather-light kiss on his nose,

"Promise me one thing, Jack."

"If I can."

"Love life; don't just live it."

"I'll promise to try, that's the best you're going to get."

"I'll settle for that, but make sure you do; I'll be back to check up on you..." Jack watched Methos walk away from him, his skin still tingling from the last brush of Methos's fingers over his face and found he was unable to help himself from following. He'd gone nearly a third of the way across the Plass before he convinced his feet to stop moving. Methos did not look back, but Jack waited until he was out of sight before turning toward to the Hub. He'd only taken a couple of steps when he changed direction. He wasn't ready for company in his present frame of mind, and headed upwards, as always, to clear his head of the conflicting thoughts and images roiling around inside it.

Jack had been there a while, looking out over the city he helped to protect, when he became aware that he was no longer alone. He took a step back from the edge before turning to find out who had been brave or reckless enough to come and find him. He expected it to be Siannon, and would not have been surprised if it had been Gwen, but he hadn't expected Ianto to be standing just a few feet away, hands in pockets, Watching.

"Looking out for me, now?"

"Someone has to; you don't necessarily do a very good job of looking out for yourself, sir."

"I guess I don't, some of the time."

"That isn't why I came up here though." Ianto closed the gap that separated them in a few steps, and cast his own eyes over the Cardiff vista.

"So why did you?"

"I'm not really sure; it just seemed the appropriate place to be." He glanced sideways at Jack. "Do you always have a reason?"

"Now you come to mention it, no." They stood in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the lively breeze causing Jack's coat to flap around them both.

"Do you think he'll ever come back?" Ianto's voice sounded wistful, and Jack reached a hand up to rest on his shoulder. There was only one person Ianto could mean.

"He won't be able to stay away; you can count on that." They smiled at each other, before returning to the scrutiny of Cardiff below. Not demanding anything, just enjoying the other's presence; two windswept figures against a backdrop of open sky.

Epilogue

A month later life had returned to what passed as normal for Torchwood. There was no more lightning in clear skies and no more immortals stalking the streets of Cardiff that they were aware of; apart from Jack. Nothing indicated that it had ever been otherwise, except for the new photograph on Jack's desk.