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Gwen Cooper didn't realize she'd fallen asleep until a hard but kindly hand closed on her right shoulder, lightly shaking her. "Up and at 'em, lass — it's past time we Humans were gone."
"Wha'?" She blinked, shook her head, yawned, then rubbed her eyes to clear them. She had a nasty kink in her neck, not surprising since she'd drifted off while curled up in one of the armchairs arrayed around the edges of the shadowy cavernous… well, she supposed it could be called a 'holographic projection suite', although the room was too gorgeously appointed in white and scrolls of gold to warrant such a strictly utilitarian name. Even the table that served as a projector, twenty-five feet on a side, was composed of intricately carved alien woods inlaid with what looked like mother of pearl, scarcely less beautiful than the 3D image of a galactic arm arrayed above it, alive with the sparkle of what looked like half a million stars.
Looking up, she saw an older woman's face leaning over her, split with a beaming smile that crinkled the pale scars across its space-dark left cheek, a smile no less bright than the incursions of liquid metal over its right temple. Tiny strings of blinking multi-coloured lights lay like beads along the grey-dreadlocked hairline, marking rhythmic patterns whose significance was an enigma to Gwen's Earth-educated sight, and thin threads of bright pink traced glowing circles in both wide green eyes. An Augment, Gwen recalled dimly: a Human enhanced with android technology — only they were called the Mechan in this dimension, KITT's place of origin, although the Torchwood Three team had ended up over two hundred and fifty years in advance of anything KITT could remember, and it had taken an upload from the Adjutant to partially restore his —
"Ye can bunk down in my quarters if it strikes yer fancy," Black Bess was saying, "Great Void only knows there's plenty of room. I think the General kept expectin' me to throw a drunken bender for the Delicacy's entire crew — it's the only explanation that fits for all the acreage he deemed to provide." The Augment scanned Gwen's face keenly, then took a step backward and beckoned with her Human hand, still smiling slightly. "C'mon now, yer Captain's waitin' in the hall. Even his kind need to sleep sometime, I reckon."
"How long was I…?" Gwen looked round as she pushed herself to her feet: the sky beyond the tall glass windows was pitch black, where it had barely been tending toward sunset when she'd sat down here to get herself out of the way of the Mechans and Humans coming and going around the projection table, supplying KITT and his Adjutant — plus Jack and the Time Agent she knew only as John Hart — with data and commentary that drew and redrew the lines of conflict on the galactic map overhead. And the machines were still at it, even though the organics were nowhere to be seen: when Gwen turned her gaze toward the far end of the table she saw KITT speaking intently to a willowy silver-eyed female Mechan taller than he was, calling up exploded sections of the star map with sweeps of his open hand.
"Long enough to get a crick in yer neck, I see," Bess chuckled. "Come along now! If KITT's his old self, he's noticed we're all leaving even 'midst this fuss and he's put in an order to the kitchens. There'll be hot food and drink ready by the time we get there — a Mechan stronghold this may be, but he sees to it they treat their Human allies proper!"
"Right." She followed close on the freebooter captain's heels, tugging her jacket back into place where it had ridden up while she was napping. Owen and Ianto weren't in evidence either — probably waiting with Jack, then…
As they approached the open double doors leading to a more brightly lit hallway, she caught Jack's voice beyond, gleeful and outright taunting: "… My boyfriend's a General!"
John Hart answered him, a mocking whine: "'My boyfriend's a General!' Good Goddess, will you listen to yourself?"
Undaunted, Jack continued: "And a courtesan, and a spy! Any way you slice it, I win!"
"Yes, yes," Hart — or perhaps it was John now, since they were arguably fighting on the same side — drawled sarcastically, "I'm so impressed, you have no idea."
Gwen didn't have to see Jack's radiant grin, not when she could hear it perfectly clearly. "You call it 'impressed' — overcompensation with sarcasm noted, by the way — and I call it 'so jealous you can't see straight'."
"You're still not sleeping with it tonight," the shorter man snapped, obviously out of patience.
"We'll see about that," and as Gwen rounded the corner into the hallway she wasn't surprised to see Jack with both hands on his hips, nearly chest-to-chest with their dubious ally, greatcoat flared behind him as he locked gazes with his former lover and smirked like the world's biggest six-year-old laying down a dare in the schoolyard. Judging by the expressions on both their faces, they were about a second and a half away from either taking a swing at each other or grabbing each other and locking lips —
— and Gwen sighed, because sorry to say she wasn't surprised in the least. "Jack, any idea where Owen and Ianto have gone off to?"
Jack turned his left shoulder to John's face and smiled at her, while John rolled his eyes as if praying for strength. "Oh yeah — KITT's assigned us an apartment roughly the size of France and Germany combined. Floor to ceiling windows, south and east facing overlooking the Palace gardens, five separate bedrooms, in-suite hot tub and —"
"Five?" John stepped in closer, and when he succeeded in getting Jack to glance down at him he fluttered his eyelashes winningly up at his former partner. "Don't you mean 'six bedrooms', darling?"
"Nope," Jack said curtly, narrowing his eyes in warning, "I meant five. One for KITT and me, one for each of my team members. I don't know where you're sleeping, and frankly I don't much care." He looked to Gwen again, his smile lighting up the corridor. "Come on, I'm pretty sure he said something about having the kitchen send up a hot meal. Bess, would you care to join us?"
"'Long as he stocked you up with Rigelian glow-ale," the freebooter said cheerfully, "circa 2256, and knowing him he's laid in only the best for his dear friends and his gentleman-love. Lead on, goodfellow, and let's see how fast I can drink you all under the table!"
"Hey, I'm no gentleman!" Jack protested. "I work for a living!" They set off down the hallway toward the elevators with Jack in the lead, arguing amiably with Bess about how she was going to be the one who ended up passed out on the floor when all was said and done… but Gwen, as she followed a couple of paces behind, couldn't help glancing back over her shoulder at John Hart, left standing in the middle of the corridor.
Judging by the smaller man's expression, if looks could kill Jack would have immediately required three full rounds of resurrection, at the very least.
And in light of later events, Gwen would come to wish that she'd taken that glare of hatred and obsession much much more seriously at the time.
THE END