Work Text:
The mission started out fine. Jack traveled to one of the less populated areas of England relatively quickly, given how much funding the Torchwood Institute was given by the Queen and what century he was in.
He stepped out of the carriage with a sigh and thanked the driver.
There to investigate some strange readings that had been received from this general area last time someone was out here, Jack got right to it.
He knocked on doors and asked around. Attempting to be both authoritative and vague was difficult, but it had to be done. For the integrity of the future and the will of some Alice Guppy, aliens were to be kept a secret.
He was about to knock on the next door when someone cleared their throat behind him, and he turned.
“I heard you asking around. At the last house and the one before that, and the establishment before that. You’re looking for strange things?”
A tall blonde haired woman in a practical (or as practical as dresses got around now) blue dress looked him in the eyes as if daring him to refuse her.
“Yes. I suppose I am.” He gave her a tired smile.
“Well, I can help.”
“Oh, Miss…?”
“Carolyn Evans. Call me Carolyn.”
“And I’m Captain Jack Harkness, at your service. Now you were saying you had something to show me?”
She nodded.
“I do. Follow me.”
As they walked, she told him of well-trained dogs that would bark at nothing, the fact that there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky for weeks, and feathers that looked too big for any bird she knew of falling from the sky.
“These really don’t seem all that strange of things, Carolyn.”
“Maybe not alone. But together, and with this-,” she stopped where she stood and gestured, “It does make you wonder, doesn’t it?”
In a rundown old wall with a few bricks missing, a beautiful flower bloomed whose petals sparkled like diamonds and leaves shone like gold.
Oh.
In a hushed voice he asked as calmly as he could, “You haven’t touched it, have you?”
“I have. What of it?”
Jack looked her up and down. How was she alive? Then he noticed.
“What did you do with the gloves you touched that with?”
Carolyn’s brow furrowed, perhaps beginning to understand the seriousness of the situation.
“I put them with the other clothes to be washed.”
“Alright. First thing, we have to get this area cordoned off and find those gloves.”
“Wait, hold up. Why? What’s happening?”
“That plant is extremely dangerous to touch. And you’re right, those things alone? Not much. Together, deadly. If you could just go back home, make sure no one touches those gloves, not even you, and get rid of them, that would be great. Thanks for the information, I have to go now.”
He turned to pull some equipment out of his bag.
“No.”
“What?”
“I’m not letting you just go on and forget that I was here, part of the government or no. I found this flower and I found you. I’m the reason you knew it existed. Let me help.”
“You can help. By getting rid of those gloves.”
“I’m-”
“-and coming back and helping me track down a very exotic creature.”
She closed her mouth, and still with an incredulous look on her face, nodded.
Carolyn really was perceptive. Almost all of her findings really did point to something strange. An alien species called the Guralites was seeming the most likely by the minute. The flower that only came from the system Guralites were from, whose seeds were carried in their feathers, whose mere touch could kill in hours, suddenly here, already grown. They could be near invisible at times, and the way that they flew, especially up high, could dissipate clouds if the Guralite was large enough. Not particularly intelligent and not often kept as pets, these were unlikely to have come from a ship. This was most likely the Rift, but it was far out for that.
Quickly he rifled through his bag, looking for something that could help. There was the particle lathe, if he wanted to precisely cut a tiny piece of the Fluver plant to keep as a souvenir. He did not. There was the extra fancy grenade, if he wanted to blow up this whole lot. Which wasn’t crossed off the list, but what would work much better is the omni-function detonator. Small, easily containable, completely destroys and doesn’t leave any fumes.
He carefully set the controls on the device and set it down near the flower.
After it was gone, he would have to search the surrounding area for any more of these Fluver plants, all while trying to find a Guralite, and like his tyrannical overlords did with every alien they found, kill it, unless he could find some way around that. Sometimes he could, but it was becoming harder and harder with Guppy and Holroyd breathing down his neck, waiting for a mistake to get after him for.
Like this one. Why did he decide to let Carolyn tag along? It would only get him, and more importantly, her, in trouble. Was he that lonely? Maybe he was. Day after day of Torchwood life, with the other agents, who were actually hired and not captured and killed to force them to work for the institute, treated him like something lesser. He hadn’t really talked to someone he liked just for conversation in who knew how long.
And Carolyn? She talked to him like he was a human being. It was nice.
The flower was disposed of safely, so he sat there for a while, waiting for Carolyn to come back.
The sun was out today and the soft breeze was nice, even if it was a little cold. He was used to it.
He waited for an hour before he decided to move on in finding any other Fluver plants and the Guralite. Carolyn might not be coming at this point, he had to accept it. And if he was giving up a bit too early? Well, it was only to keep him from getting his hopes up.
As he walked along the street, scanning his surroundings, he heard a shriek from an alley to his left. Jack ran towards the danger.
He skidded to a stop in front of a creature the size of a horse, with huge incandescent feathers and a sweeping tail. The Guralite. Jack got out his gun, not sure which way to point it. The Guralite was backing away in terror, a man was waving a poker at it, and Carolyn was there, standing next to it, pressed against the wall.
“Stop it!” she hissed. “This creature doesn’t need to be prodded at or killed. Leave it alone.”
Hefting a rock in her hands, she lobbed it at the man, who dodged. But instead of going back inside, he stepped forward, and in one fell swoop, the poker was on the other side of the alley, the Guralite was in the sky, and a working class man was dead.
Jack was torn in three directions.
He ran toward Carolyn.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. What was that thing?”
“I told you all I can. It’s a rare and exotic creature I have to track down.”
He checked the man’s pulse out of habit, though it was clear from the state of his neck he was dead.
“That’s not good enough. I just defended a scared beast, and now… now Mr. Taylor is dead! Did I do the wrong thing? Is that thing dangerous?”
Jack exhaled loudly.
“Do you have any ideas? People aren’t supposed to know about this, and here we have deep claw marks in someone’s neck.”
“Captain Harkness, you listen to me!”
He flinched.
Carolyn saw it, took a breath, and started again.
“You can’t just ignore me. Please.”
“I’d tell you if I could. Believe me when I say, you knowing what we’re dealing with would only put you in more danger. Let’s just say, it’s only dangerous if you provoke it, if it’s scared. And right now? It’s very, very scared. Now, do you have any ideas?”
Carolyn made a beckoning motion with her hands, as if willing thoughts to come to her, and glanced around.
“There’s not really any wild animals around here, and we can’t quite blame the dogs. I didn’t know Mr. Taylor that well, but I don’t think he would be one to just wander off, so just, um, hiding him isn’t really an option. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if you changed the wounds a little bit, it might look like a particularly mad man stumbled on him with a knife.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Wow, Ms. Evans. I’m impressed. Not many people could adapt to so much, so quickly, and then suggest that.”
Carolyn kicked him in the leg. Hard.
Wincing, and with a “You may want to look away,” he got to work.
When he was done, after arranging Mr. Taylor as gently on the ground as he could, he wiped off his pocketknife and grimaced. Even after these five years of working for Torchwood, the thirty before that living and dying on earth in the 1800s, and what felt like a lifetime in the Time Agency, death and grisly things still got to him. He never enjoyed it.
He wiped off his hands and his knife with his handkerchief, and then hid it to the side. DNA typing and fingerprinting had a while yet before they were to be invented.
Carolyn stood up from against the wall where she had been waiting.
“I’ve been thinking. You knew what both the flower and this mysterious creature were at first sight. They must be related. I know, I know, you can’t tell me. But at least hear me out. This creature attacks when threatened, but the flowers are poisonous to touch. There’s at least one more out there that I know of. We should make sure all the flowers are safely contained first, so that when we try to get the creature to safety we won’t have to worry about you coming back and getting rid of all these nasty beautiful plants.”
Jack opened his mouth to argue and then closed it. “That’s a good idea. You say you know where another one is? Let’s hurry.”
As they were briskly walking away from the scene, Carolyn slightly ahead of Jack, a door opened across the street, and a head popped out.
“Alright, I’m going to do a thing now, and you’re going to have to look away.”
Carolyn raised an eyebrow. “It’s not anything indecent, is it?”
Jack rolled his eyes.
“No.”
“Fine. You keep your secrets.” she said sullenly. But she smiled, so he knew she didn’t mean it.
She looked away, and as quickly as he could, he set up his device and destroyed the second flower.
He put it away.
“Alright, you can look now.”
Arm in arm, they strolled away.
Soon after, they asked around and were able to hear of the location of another Fluver plant. Carolyn was amazing at talking to people, almost as good as he was… maybe better. She was relatively new in town, but not so new that people looked at her weirdly when she showed up asking questions.
They strode toward the hill it was said to be on, playfully bantering.
“Soo, what are you a captain of?”
His answer, usually on the tip of his tongue, died away. Carolyn nudged him.
“I got my title in a very strange way. Let’s just say, almost no one alive would believe it.”
It didn’t matter that it was illegitimate. He thought he’d earned it by now.
She laughed, and kicked a rock.
“Okay, Mr. Mysterious. Where are you from, then?”
Surprisingly, this one came easier. “The States.”
“I couldn’t have guessed. Did you live there just long enough to pick up the accent, or is it someplace you would call home?”
“I don’t know, would you call this place home?”
“No. It’s just a place to be.”
“Yeah.”
At this they arrived. But someone was already there. A young woman had plucked the flower and was sitting in the branch of a tree, swinging her legs.
Jack hung his head, and said softly, “We’re too late for this one.”
“There has to be something we can do. Please.”
The young woman turned her head and looked in their direction.
Carolyn waved at her. “Could you come down from there for a moment? We would like to talk to you.”
She shook her head. “I’m feeling a bit faint right now, I don’t think it would be a good idea.”
Carolyn turned to Jack.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t have the antidote.”
They sat together in silence for a while.
The Fluver plant was destroyed, and they were far away from the hill.
“What do we do now?
“Well, the habitats of this type of a-, um, creature, are usually quite dry, sunny, and high up. So we search for some place like-”
“That’s him!”
Jack broke off mid sentence as he was tackled to the ground.
The police uniform bent over him obscured his view but he could still barely make out the form of Carolyn as she slipped into the shadows.
He looked away, hoping they wouldn’t notice, that whatever he’d been stopped for, they wouldn’t catch her.
As he was pulled to his feet, he gave a small, apologetic smile and started, “I’m sorry, Officer, I think there might be some misunderstanding. You see, I’m with-”
“It doesn’t matter who or what you’re with. You were seen hurrying away from the scene of a murder, and heading towards the scene of another one. I apologise for the lack of professionalism of my comrade with apprehending you,” he spared a look for the glaring person beside him, “but you really must come with us.”
And it all went downhill from there.
There really wasn’t much wiggle room in getting out of this one.
Oliver Taylor was a friend of the officer who had tackled him, and everyone cared for Marie.
They wanted to know why he was here, and what he was doing at the scene of both deaths and “I’m with Torchwoood” wasn’t good enough for them.
There wasn’t much else to say.
He gave them his name, he gave them Torchwood’s name, told them to use the station’s phone to call them, and find out for themselves that it was a legitimate institute. They didn’t want to hear it.
“Why were you seen walking away from two dead civilians in one day? If you’re with the government, why weren’t you working with us? If the murderer is still at large, and not you, tell us what you know.”
He couldn’t. And so he stayed in a cell overnight, and the night after that.
He wondered where Carolyn was, if they had caught her yet, why they hadn’t mentioned her at all so far. Had they not seen her with him? Did they not care?
The game changer came the next day when they brought in his handkerchief. Fuck. How could he have forgotten that was the one that had Torchwood monogrammed on it? Why did he ever keep that damn thing?
A bloody handkerchief, with the name of the organisation he kept claiming to work for, found in the alley with the dead person? He was dead meat.
It was a quick trial. He denied everything, but the evidence was clear.
At this point in time, the death penalty was still in place for charges such as murder, and with the grudge that these police officers now seemed to have against him, and how familiar the judge seemed to be with the victims, it was no surprise that it was handed to him.
It was a long wait. He missed being free. He wondered where Carolyn was now, if she had walked off without a second thought. He wondered whether Alice noticed he was gone, if she wanted her unkillable asset back by now. There was no telling.
And then the day came. He was to be hanged. They walked him out into the prison yard.
Guppy and Holroyd were unlikely to come for him. They never did. But Carolyn? Jack saw her out of the corner of his eye, and everything froze. It was so her to try for a daring rescue that it hurt. She didn't know. She was trying to save him.
"Run," he whispered, hoping she would see.
She didn’t. Instead, she walked right up to him.
Looking him in his eyes, she said, “It took a lot of convincing for quite a few people, but I found your institute, your Torchwood. You see, I’m very persuasive. I managed to convince the policemen to tell me what you had said, to tell me the number you had said to call. I even was able to use their telephone and contact Torchwood. Tell them your predicament. And I- I’m sorry, Jack. I don’t know how you can bear to work for them when they said- when they said you deserved it for being so sloppy.” A few tears streamed down her face. “They sent someone else out to deal with it. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you very long, but it was nice. I’m glad I got to talk to you this one more time.”
And she was led away by a guard.
This was only his second time being hanged, but he hated it. Not like death could be pleasant, but the anticipation, the dread, knowing it was going to happen, that was always worse. And right after that? After seeing her again and knowing he probably never could again, because she would think him dead? His pulse wasn’t merely racing, it was storming.
He smiled grimly, then he dropped.
He gasped back to life, pins and needles running through every inch of him at once, in a morgue. Thankfully he was still as clothed as he was before, and he hurried to get out. He slipped around corners and knocked someone unconscious for their keys. No one would be looking for a dead man.
Jack was finally out in the open air for the first time in a while and he hated it. Now that he was thought to be dead by these people he was even less free than he was before. He couldn’t come back around these parts for years.
He would have to rewrite the death records for himself. He would have to-
Barely a kilometer from the prison, he saw her. Carolyn. Should he avoid her? He didn’t want to. He should. She was nice. He barely knew her. She cared about him. Why was he even debating this? He should start walking the other direction.
As it turned out, he didn’t have to debate himself any longer. She looked back.
Her eyes widened as she saw him.
He looked at her, just looked. He was terrified of her reaction. If he smiled, would she think he was mocking her and her emotions? That he was the devil? If he showed sadness, would she throw it in his face? So, he looked, and she looked back. Then she ran to him and hugged him.
Carolyn and Jack kept in contact for many years, and any time Jack was sent on a mission within twenty kilometers of her, he would come visit, and they would talk. There was much they couldn’t talk about, but there was much they could, and they were genuine friends. She was a light in an often dark life, a gleaming treasure to be found in an often dull and lonely life, and he was much the same for her.
A century later, Jack held an aging photograph in his hands, looking upon it fondly before carefully putting it away and joining the others in a game of ball.