The Assassins Network 1
"Its raining then?" The dismayed tone of Ianto's voice carried through the hub as Owen and Gwen struggled a body bag down into autopsy.
"Sorry sweetheart," Gwen called back, her voice slightly muffled as it echoed up from the bay.
With a low groan he walked down the stairs and into the main body of the hub, scowling down at the muddied footprints that his two colleagues had left on their stumble through the base. Normally he would comment on the mess they were making but it was only a month since he had returned from suspension and he was afraid of bringing to much attention to himself these days. Jack naturally wasn't playing by the rules, firstly he had spent a lot of the suspension sitting on Ianto's couch dropping crumbs all over the rug and then had tried to draw him further into the team which had concluded in the disastrous excursion a fortnight ago. Part of him was desperate to rush off and grab the mop and bucket but he knew that it was no use cleaning up now when Tosh and Jack would be wondering in any minute now dripping onto the floor without a second glance at him. Light footsteps leading up from the garage made him turn around to see Tosh walking towards him, she was barefoot and drying her hair with one of the towels from the locker room.
"Its horrible out there," she said, placing a freezing hand on his cheek as she passed and giggling when he flinched away. "I think its going to be a frightful night."
A moment later Gwen returned to her work station and Ianto watched as she removed her sneakers and soaking socks before looking around for somewhere to place them.
"Here." Ianto walked forward and carefully took them from her. "I'll put them under the heater to dry."
"Oh no." She took a lunge for them but he was far more graceful and eased away. "I'll do that."
Without another word he turned and walked towards the kitchenette, flicking the heater on and placing the sodden sneakers underneath.
"Alright Owen what is it?" The sound of Jack's voice, almost large as life than the man himself, startled Ianto from his where he had been staring blankly at Gwen's sneakers.
"Hold your horses Harkness," answered Owen, appearing at the foot of the stairs from the autopsy bay. "I haven't even got him out of the bag yet."
Te medic ran his fingers through his short hair, sending drops of rain water everywhere and causing Ianto's right eye to start twitching. Sometimes he honestly didn't think it was worth the amount of time and effort he put into cleaning the hub; between Jack and Owen he made very little headway on a daily basis and if it wasn't for Tosh actually knowing what a bin was he might actually have gone mad by now. He took another look over the soaked, overworked lot of them and moved to take a stack of fluffy towels from the kitchenette cupboard. Making sure that his footfalls were silent and that he managed to remain on the edge of the group as he placed a fresh towel on Tosh's desk, placed one in Owen's hand and then walked up behind Gwen to gently place a towel over her shoulder.
"Yes but I would have thought that you'd have come up with something on the scene," answered Jack, hands moving to his hips and seemingly oblivious to the several large puddles developing around his feet.
Honestly Ianto wondered how they had got along before Jack had recruited him, Torchwood Four probably hadn't been abducted by aliens like everyone thought, no they had more than likely disappeared underneath a pile of rubbish in the hub, never to be seen again.
"Well its human, or at least the scans say that it is. Male, mid-thirties and with some unusual elements in his blood when we scanned him," answered Owen, beginning to roughly dry his hair.
"Cause of death?" demanded Jack, obviously not in the mood for Owen's sarcasm.
"I would have to say that the fact that the poor bastard having been nearly decapitated by a very long, curved blade probably had something to do with it," answered Owen, ignoring Gwen's soft snicker and Tosh who hid behind her work station to hide her smile.
With a shake of his head Ianto moved swiftly across the hub to Jack and placed his fingers carefully under the collar of his great coat, a signal that the Captain should let him remove the coat, Jack shrugged out of it instinctively and Ianto allowed himself a private smile at how easily it had been to train the other man. Sliding the coat off Jack's arms he nearly stumbled back, the bloody thing was heavy enough under normal circumstances but when wet it weighed a tonne. With a low groan he draped it angrily over the railing above the autopsy bay and then handed the Captain the last towel, glaring at him until he was given a wary smile and the man started to dry himself.
"Well get to work then," said Jack, voice muffled by the towel before turning and moving up to his office, which just meant there was another room Ianto was going to have to clean of water marks.
Ianto watched as a grumbling Owen returned to the autopsy bay, nearly slipping on the slick stairs and turning around the glare at him as if it had been his fault. With a grin that he knew would infuriate the medic, Ianto turned and walked back into the kitchenette knowing that if they didn't all get something warm inside them straight away he would be dealing with snotty tissues littering the hub for at least a week. Running a hand affectionately along the highly polished surface of the coffee maker, he started delving through the upper cupboards, coffee would probably be a bit strong right now but tea would go down nicely. Except for Jack, the man refused to touch the stuff and the one time that the Cardiff lorry drivers had gone on strike and they hadn't been able to get supplies (except for peppermint tea) he had written an official letter of complaint to the Queen. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed that he had been making the tea on auto-pilot, boiling the kettle and organising everyone’s favourite mugs, adding sugar and cream to perfection.
"Oh fantastic." Gwen's voice broke into his quiet contemplation as she stepped into the kitchenette. "I was just thinking I could do with a cuppa tea."
He found himself smiling softly at her, taking hold of her favourite dragonfly mug and holding it out, watching as she cradled it in her finely boned hands and slowly took a sip of the steaming liquid.
"Don't burn your mouth," he said, and she blew the steam from the top of the mug.
"Do we have any biscuits?" she asked, placing the mug on counter and rubbing her hands together.
Glancing quickly around the kitchenette he let out a hum before lifting the lid of the biscuit jar and scowling at the few crumbs he found there. Food didn't last very long in the hub since both Owen and Jack had the appetite of starving hyenas and could demolish a packet of biscuits in under two minutes. That was why Ianto had needed to become extremely clever in his snack hidey-holes, after discovering that Jack had a disturbing habit of watching his every move over CCTV he had learnt to start hiding food during their 3am maintenance period.
"This is strictly between you and me." He pointed a finger at Gwen and returned her happy grin, feeling like he was finally bonding with this remarkable woman. "Because if Owen or Jack ever find out we'll all end up starving to death."
With that he removed his jacket and placed it on the tiny table before climbing onto the counter, resting on his knees as he reached up to grab the two packets of HobNobs he kept hidden above the cabinets.
"You really are sneaky," Gwen said from behind him, and he turned to roll his eyes at her.
"So what's this case you're all working on?" he asked, feigning innocence solely because he loved the sound of her voice when she was talking about something she was passionate about.
"Man was found murdered in a alley in Butetown." He threw a pack of HobNobs to her and stretched further forward to try and reach the second pack which had rolled near the wall. "His throat had been slashed with such force it nearly decapitated him."
The very tips of his fingers grazed the packet and he growled in frustration.
"Doesn't sound like something Torchwood generally gets involved in," he said, knitting his brows together and glaring at the biscuits in the hope that mind power alone would be enough to force them to roll within reach.
"Well Tosh has been picking up some strong Rift activity in that area over the past couple of days, and Andy called to let us know that the victim was found with some unusual pieces of technology." He could practically hear her shrug. "Doesn't Jack brief you about these things?"
Over the past month Jack had been trying to bring Ianto further into the team, insisting that he attend meetings and various other team related get-togethers, but Ianto had a lot of tasks to perform in the hub and the archives kept him especially busy so he didn't very often get the chance. Afterwards Jack didn't very often seem to feel the need to fill Ianto in on what was going on in the field.
"He's a busy man, I'm a busy man." He shrugged his shoulders. "We're just both busy men."
There was a soft chuckle: "Now there are some things I'm never to busy for."
The sound of Jack's amused voice, full of his usual warmth and innuendo, startled him so badly that he slipped backwards off of the counter, closing his eyes against the pain he was anticipating. It never came, instead he fell into a broad chest and strong arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
"Good catch," said Gwen, causing Ianto to glare at her as Jack began pulling him backwards so that his legs could slip off the counter and he could get his balance.
"Yes well ..." Ianto turned in Jack's arms and started trying to disentangle himself from the other man. "... thank you."
Completely ignoring Ianto's struggles Jack pulled him closer and waggled his eyebrows at him.
"We really need to try this again sometime." Jack's lips ghosted over his and Ianto felt his eyes flutter closed. "Without the audience." He let him go and then took a flamboyant step back, throwing Gwen a megawatt smile. "Then again we could teach the kids a lesson or two."
"Nobody will be teaching anyone anything," said Ianto, poking Jack in the chest with his index finger and then walking out of the kitchenette with as much dignity as he could muster.
"That's a damn shame Mr. Jones," Jack called after him, before turning his attention to Gwen. "So do we know who our decapitated friend is?"
---
Somebody banging loudly on his front door awoke Nik from a relatively deep sleep and he stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment before opening his wrist strap and randomly hitting one of the buttons inside. Immediately his living room filled with the holographic image of a handsome man, and Nik rolled into a sitting position on the couch, pressing another button on the manipulator and watching as the front door glimmered silver and then disappeared.
"What are you doing up?" demanded Anthony, his accent deepening in concern as he hurried into the apartment. "You should be in bed."
Nik groaned, tipping his face up so that he could look at the man currently pacing the room. He knew that Anthony Jones wasn't his real name, just like Sandy hadn't been born with such a none Gastenian name, but as a Time Agent it seemed to fit, plus Nik couldn't imagine calling him anything else. He was also strikingly beautiful; tall and lean with olive skin, curly black hair and dark eyes. His genetics screamed that he was Makorian, a species that had fled their home system when the Daleks had attacked Gallifrey, as they themselves were an interesting mix of Time Lord and human. This was a fact which caused them to flee across the galaxies from the enemies their cousins had unwillingly made. Anthony was the youngest son of the Makorian royal family, his older brother Jos had been stolen by Sandy nearly two centuries ago to play assistant, and that was when they had first met the man, the crown prince of a dying race. Anthony had saved both his and Sandy's lives many times over the years, and due to the fact that all three of them came from long-lived species they had made quite a reputation for themselves in the Agency.
"I'm fine," said Nik finally, holding up his carefully bandaged arm for inspection. "I know field medicine remember?"
Anthony paused in his pacing to walk over to Nik and gripped his wrist gently, turning it so he could see the blood soaked bandages.
"That's archaic," he muttered, jostling Nik back on the couch and straddling his thighs. "Anyone would think you weren't from the 51st Century."
For a moment Nik let himself luxuriate in the heaviness of Anthony's body pressing into his legs and the soft fingers undoing the bandages to get to the marred skin underneath.
"I'm not, technically I was conceived in the 43rd Century," he whispered.
"Semantics," murmered Anthony, running his fingertips over the inflamed skin surrounding each one of the deep cuts. With a soft sigh he leaned forward and pressed his lips against each cut, causing a bright spark of desire to run through him and he felt Anthony chuckle against his flesh. "You're an idiot do you know that?"
"I can't believe I've just been tortured to within an inch of my life and you're going to insult me?" demanded Nik, knowing that his anger was lost in the huskiness of his voice.
"Yes, and now I'm going to heal you with some good 51st Century know how," said Anthony, digging into the deep pocket of his jacket and pulling out a small ornamental box.
Nik screwed up his face at the sight of it: "You know I hate them."
"Stop being such a baby," said Anthony, pulling at Nik's wrist until he stretched his arm and then flicked the box open. Several tiny glowing dots floated up from the box before descending on the wounds, Nik closed his eyes against the sight of the nanogenes stitching his skin back together. "See, all done."
Slowly opening his eyes, Nik glanced down at his flawless arm and then back up at Anthony.
"Thank you," he said with only a hint of sarcasm.
---
Owen threw a number of manila folders onto the conference table as he entered the room and quickly circled the team so as to pick up the remote control and turn on the flat screen.
"Now the headless horseman downstairs has a lot of unusual chemicals in his blood, and I only recognize this one." He clicked the remote again and pointed at the tall spike filling the screen.
"What's that?" demanded Jack.
For a moment Owen just let himself stare at the Captain in surprise, it often stunned him that a man who was so full of knowledge on things like aliens and technology could be so incredibly stupid when it came to medical facts.
"That," he said, turning back to the screen. "Is retcon. Level 9 I would say."
At that Jack's head snapped up: "Torchwood doesn't use Level 9 retcon."
"There's no way this was done by us." Owen shrugged at their questioning looks. "It was mixed with a compound unlike anything in the Torchwood medical records, not even UNIT has anything that comes close. "
Glancing over at Jack he noticed that the other man was wringing his hands on the table, blue eyes staring angrily at the screen. What on the Earth did the man have to be pissed about when it came to a decapitated tourist and a few unknown elements? He was glaring at the readings as if they had done him a personal injustice.
"So somebody out there is making a new form of retcon, administering it to people and then murdering them?" hissed the Captain.
"It certainly looks that way," answered Owen.
"But we don't know that for sure right?" spoke up Gwen. "I mean how do we know that the retcon and the murder are related?"
Owen found himself turning to her slowly, letting the look of disbelief fill his face.
"Are you kidding me ..." He began but was cut off by Tosh.
"Its to much to be a coincidence," she said softly, removing her glasses and fiddling with the arm. "I can try and figure out the exact base compounds."
Jack nodded: "Do it."
"I'll keep trying to track down our victims identity," said Gwen, standing up and quickly striding from the room obviously keen to get away from Jack's bad mood.
Owen let out a deep sigh, stepped out from underneath Jack's glare and followed Gwen.
---
Nik gently ran his fingers through the damp curls at the back of Anthony's neck, and sighed as the other man rested his sweaty forehead on his chest. Sleeping with Anthony was always an adventure, but then again he was the only male lover Nik had and that was quite an extensive list.
"I'd almost forgotten what that was like," muttered Anthony, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin of Nik's cooling chest. "Two years on Lilonia and I'd forgotten how messy sleeping with humans could be."
Nik huffed out a laugh and let his hands run affectionately down his lovers back as he desperately tried to control his breathing. As much as he wanted to believe that Anthony had returned to the Time Agency from whatever war he had been fighting in a distant part of the galaxy because of his concern for the youngest Garnett, he knew that there was more to this.
"So where is she?" he asked, watching as Anthony rested his chin on his chest and looked up at him with twinkling eyes. "Because there is nothing that would make you run from your family other than Sandy."
"You know me to well," said Anthony with a laugh. "You know I love you right?"
"Of course." Nik tightened his fingers in Anthony's hair and pulled him into a deep kiss. "And I love you."
"She's the mother of my child, my only child Nik," whispered Anthony, pulling back slightly.
"And she's my only sister," answered Nik. "She's going to get herself in a lot of trouble Anthony, more than she's already in, and I know she doesn't give a crap about her own safety but she's left people behind. Vulnerable people, we have to bring her back."
"Do you have any idea what she's trying to prevent?" asked Anthony, settling on his side.
"Not a clue," answered Nik. "She's out there changing the course of history, Sandy's never given a damn about paradoxes before and I know for a fact she's not about to start now."
"She's trying to stop a paradox. Whelmstow sent the Tigers back to the 21st Century to kill all twenty-seven survivors of an ancient battle," said Anthony.
Nik shrugged: "So? The Agency's been doing that sort of thing for decades."
"Yes but these were never supposed to die, he's creating a paradox." Anthony traced his fingers down over Nik's stomach. "One that will cause the Time Agency to never exist and neither you or Sandy ever being born."
"Why the fuck would he want to do that?"
"From what my spies have told me Whelmstow is sick of fighting both you and the resistance for the Time Agency, and he's of the mind that if he can't have it nobody can," he said. "He's going to throw you all into non-existence and he doesn't care."
"So what do we do?" demanded Nik. "I know that Sandy is more than capable, but do you think she can take on the Tigers single handedly?"
"She can probably take on the Tigers but not before they kill a few of their targets."
Nik crossed his arms behind his head and considered that. Oh he knew that Sandy was the best assassin in the universe, and he had seen her take on entire armies and walk out with barely a scratch on her, but what she was attempting now was stealth and inconspicuously, something which she wasn't well versed in. Undoubtedly she would kill each member of the cell, but whether or not she managed to complete her task before the paradox was formed was another matter.
"What do you suggest?" he asked.
With a tell-tale smirk on his face Anthony took a hold of Nik's left arm and placed a hand on the vortex manipulator: "We go to the 21st Century and help her finish them off."
"No ... no." Nik pushed himself into a sitting position and glared down at the other man. "No Anthony, I'm in enough shit with Whelmstow as it is."
"Well any minute now you might not exist," answered Anthony. "So what do you want to do?"
"Its raining then?" The dismayed tone of Ianto's voice carried through the hub as Owen and Gwen struggled a body bag down into autopsy.
"Sorry sweetheart," Gwen called back, her voice slightly muffled as it echoed up from the bay.
With a low groan he walked down the stairs and into the main body of the hub, scowling down at the muddied footprints that his two colleagues had left on their stumble through the base. Normally he would comment on the mess they were making but it was only a month since he had returned from suspension and he was afraid of bringing to much attention to himself these days. Jack naturally wasn't playing by the rules, firstly he had spent a lot of the suspension sitting on Ianto's couch dropping crumbs all over the rug and then had tried to draw him further into the team which had concluded in the disastrous excursion a fortnight ago. Part of him was desperate to rush off and grab the mop and bucket but he knew that it was no use cleaning up now when Tosh and Jack would be wondering in any minute now dripping onto the floor without a second glance at him. Light footsteps leading up from the garage made him turn around to see Tosh walking towards him, she was barefoot and drying her hair with one of the towels from the locker room.
"Its horrible out there," she said, placing a freezing hand on his cheek as she passed and giggling when he flinched away. "I think its going to be a frightful night."
A moment later Gwen returned to her work station and Ianto watched as she removed her sneakers and soaking socks before looking around for somewhere to place them.
"Here." Ianto walked forward and carefully took them from her. "I'll put them under the heater to dry."
"Oh no." She took a lunge for them but he was far more graceful and eased away. "I'll do that."
Without another word he turned and walked towards the kitchenette, flicking the heater on and placing the sodden sneakers underneath.
"Alright Owen what is it?" The sound of Jack's voice, almost large as life than the man himself, startled Ianto from his where he had been staring blankly at Gwen's sneakers.
"Hold your horses Harkness," answered Owen, appearing at the foot of the stairs from the autopsy bay. "I haven't even got him out of the bag yet."
The medic ran his fingers through his short hair, sending drops of rain water everywhere and causing Ianto's right eye to start twitching. Sometimes he honestly didn't think it was worth the amount of time and effort he put into cleaning the hub; between Jack and Owen he made very little headway on a daily basis and if it wasn't for Tosh actually knowing what a bin was he might actually have gone mad by now. He took another look over the soaked, overworked lot of them and moved to take a stack of fluffy towels from the kitchenette cupboard. Making sure that his footfalls were silent and that he managed to remain on the edge of the group as he placed a fresh towel on Tosh's desk, placed one in Owen's hand and then walked up behind Gwen to gently place a towel over her shoulder.
"Yes but I would have thought that you'd have come up with something on the scene," answered Jack, hands moving to his hips and seemingly oblivious to the several large puddles developing around his feet.
Honestly Ianto wondered how they had got along before Jack had recruited him, Torchwood Four probably hadn't been abducted by aliens like everyone thought, no they had more than likely disappeared underneath a pile of rubbish in the hub, never to be seen again.
"Well its human, or at least the scans say that it is. Male, mid-thirties and with some unusual elements in his blood when we scanned him," answered Owen, beginning to roughly dry his hair.
"Cause of death?" demanded Jack, obviously not in the mood for Owen's sarcasm.
"I would have to say that the fact that the poor bastard having been nearly decapitated by a very long, curved blade probably had something to do with it," answered Owen, ignoring Gwen's soft snicker and Tosh who hid behind her work station to hide her smile.
With a shake of his head Ianto moved swiftly across the hub to Jack and placed his fingers carefully under the collar of his great coat, a signal that the Captain should let him remove the coat, Jack shrugged out of it instinctively and Ianto allowed himself a private smile at how easily it had been to train the other man. Sliding the coat off Jack's arms he nearly stumbled back, the bloody thing was heavy enough under normal circumstances but when wet it weighed a tonne. With a low groan he draped it angrily over the railing above the autopsy bay and then handed the Captain the last towel, glaring at him until he was given a wary smile and the man started to dry himself.
"Well get to work then," said Jack, voice muffled by the towel before turning and moving up to his office, which just meant there was another room Ianto was going to have to clean of water marks.
Ianto watched as a grumbling Owen returned to the autopsy bay, nearly slipping on the slick stairs and turning around the glare at him as if it had been his fault. With a grin that he knew would infuriate the medic, Ianto turned and walked back into the kitchenette knowing that if they didn't all get something warm inside them straight away he would be dealing with snotty tissues littering the hub for at least a week. Running a hand affectionately along the highly polished surface of the coffee maker, he started delving through the upper cupboards, coffee would probably be a bit strong right now but tea would go down nicely. Except for Jack, the man refused to touch the stuff and the one time that the Cardiff lorry drivers had gone on strike and they hadn't been able to get supplies (except for peppermint tea) he had written an official letter of complaint to the Queen. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed that he had been making the tea on auto-pilot, boiling the kettle and organising everyone’s favourite mugs, adding sugar and cream to perfection.
"Oh fantastic." Gwen's voice broke into his quiet contemplation as she stepped into the kitchenette. "I was just thinking I could do with a cuppa tea."
He found himself smiling softly at her, taking hold of her favourite dragonfly mug and holding it out, watching as she cradled it in her finely boned hands and slowly took a sip of the steaming liquid.
"Don't burn your mouth," he said, and she blew the steam from the top of the mug.
"Do we have any biscuits?" she asked, placing the mug on counter and rubbing her hands together.
Glancing quickly around the kitchenette he let out a hum before lifting the lid of the biscuit jar and scowling at the few crumbs he found there. Food didn't last very long in the hub since both Owen and Jack had the appetite of starving hyenas and could demolish a packet of biscuits in under two minutes. That was why Ianto had needed to become extremely clever in his snack hidey-holes, after discovering that Jack had a disturbing habit of watching his every move over CCTV he had learnt to start hiding food during their 3am maintenance period.
"This is strictly between you and me." He pointed a finger at Gwen and returned her happy grin, feeling like he was finally bonding with this remarkable woman. "Because if Owen or Jack ever find out we'll all end up starving to death."
With that he removed his jacket and placed it on the tiny table before climbing onto the counter, resting on his knees as he reached up to grab the two packets of HobNobs he kept hidden above the cabinets.
"You really are sneaky," Gwen said from behind him, and he turned to roll his eyes at her.
"So what's this case you're all working on?" he asked, feigning innocence solely because he loved the sound of her voice when she was talking about something she was passionate about.
"Man was found murdered in a alley in Butetown." He threw a pack of HobNobs to her and stretched further forward to try and reach the second pack which had rolled near the wall. "His throat had been slashed with such force it nearly decapitated him."
The very tips of his fingers grazed the packet and he growled in frustration.
"Doesn't sound like something Torchwood generally gets involved in," he said, knitting his brows together and glaring at the biscuits in the hope that mind power alone would be enough to force them to roll within reach.
"Well Tosh has been picking up some strong Rift activity in that area over the past couple of days, and Andy called to let us know that the victim was found with some unusual pieces of technology." He could practically hear her shrug. "Doesn't Jack brief you about these things?"
Over the past month Jack had been trying to bring Ianto further into the team, insisting that he attend meetings and various other team related get-togethers, but Ianto had a lot of tasks to perform in the hub and the archives kept him especially busy so he didn't very often get the chance. Afterwards Jack didn't very often seem to feel the need to fill Ianto in on what was going on in the field.
"He's a busy man, I'm a busy man." He shrugged his shoulders. "We're just both busy men."
There was a soft chuckle: "Now there are some things I'm never to busy for."
The sound of Jack's amused voice, full of his usual warmth and innuendo, startled him so badly that he slipped backwards off of the counter, closing his eyes against the pain he was anticipating. It never came, instead he fell into a broad chest and strong arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
"Good catch," said Gwen, causing Ianto to glare at her as Jack began pulling him backwards so that his legs could slip off the counter and he could get his balance.
"Yes well ..." Ianto turned in Jack's arms and started trying to disentangle himself from the other man. "... thank you."
Completely ignoring Ianto's struggles Jack pulled him closer and waggled his eyebrows at him.
"We really need to try this again sometime." Jack's lips ghosted over his and Ianto felt his eyes flutter closed. "Without the audience." He let him go and then took a flamboyant step back, throwing Gwen a megawatt smile. "Then again we could teach the kids a lesson or two."
"Nobody will be teaching anyone anything," said Ianto, poking Jack in the chest with his index finger and then walking out of the kitchenette with as much dignity as he could muster.
"That's a damn shame Mr. Jones," Jack called after him, before turning his attention to Gwen. "So do we know who our decapitated friend is?"
---
Somebody banging loudly on his front door awoke Nik from a relatively deep sleep and he stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment before opening his wrist strap and randomly hitting one of the buttons inside. Immediately his living room filled with the holographic image of a handsome man, and Nik rolled into a sitting position on the couch, pressing another button on the manipulator and watching as the front door glimmered silver and then disappeared.
"What are you doing up?" demanded Anthony, his accent deepening in concern as he hurried into the apartment. "You should be in bed."
Nik groaned, tipping his face up so that he could look at the man currently pacing the room. He knew that Anthony Jones wasn't his real name, just like Sandy hadn't been born with such a none Gastenian name, but as a Time Agent it seemed to fit, plus Nik couldn't imagine calling him anything else. He was also strikingly beautiful; tall and lean with olive skin, curly black hair and dark eyes. His genetics screamed that he was Makorian, a species that had fled their home system when the Daleks had attacked Gallifrey, as they themselves were an interesting mix of Time Lord and human. This was a fact which caused them to flee across the galaxies from the enemies their cousins had unwillingly made. Anthony was the youngest son of the Makorian royal family, his older brother Jos had been stolen by Sandy nearly two centuries ago to play assistant, and that was when they had first met the man, the crown prince of a dying race. Anthony had saved both his and Sandy's lives many times over the years, and due to the fact that all three of them came from long-lived species they had made quite a reputation for themselves in the Agency.
"I'm fine," said Nik finally, holding up his carefully bandaged arm for inspection. "I know field medicine remember?"
Anthony paused in his pacing to walk over to Nik and gripped his wrist gently, turning it so he could see the blood soaked bandages.
"That's archaic," he muttered, jostling Nik back on the couch and straddling his thighs. "Anyone would think you weren't from the 51st Century."
For a moment Nik let himself luxuriate in the heaviness of Anthony's body pressing into his legs and the soft fingers undoing the bandages to get to the marred skin underneath.
"I'm not, technically I was conceived in the 43rd Century," he whispered.
"Semantics," murmered Anthony, running his fingertips over the inflamed skin surrounding each one of the deep cuts. With a soft sigh he leaned forward and pressed his lips against each cut, causing a bright spark of desire to run through him and he felt Anthony chuckle against his flesh. "You're an idiot do you know that?"
"I can't believe I've just been tortured to within an inch of my life and you're going to insult me?" demanded Nik, knowing that his anger was lost in the huskiness of his voice.
"Yes, and now I'm going to heal you with some good 51st Century know how," said Anthony, digging into the deep pocket of his jacket and pulling out a small ornamental box.
Nik screwed up his face at the sight of it: "You know I hate them."
"Stop being such a baby," said Anthony, pulling at Nik's wrist until he stretched his arm and then flicked the box open. Several tiny glowing dots floated up from the box before descending on the wounds, Nik closed his eyes against the sight of the nanogenes stitching his skin back together. "See, all done."
Slowly opening his eyes, Nik glanced down at his flawless arm and then back up at Anthony.
"Thank you," he said with only a hint of sarcasm.
---
Owen threw a number of manila folders onto the conference table as he entered the room and quickly circled the team so as to pick up the remote control and turn on the flat screen.
"Now the headless horseman downstairs has a lot of unusual chemicals in his blood, and I only recognize this one." He clicked the remote again and pointed at the tall spike filling the screen.
"What's that?" demanded Jack.
For a moment Owen just let himself stare at the Captain in surprise, it often stunned him that a man who was so full of knowledge on things like aliens and technology could be so incredibly stupid when it came to medical facts.
"That," he said, turning back to the screen. "Is retcon. Level 9 I would say."
At that Jack's head snapped up: "Torchwood doesn't use Level 9 retcon."
"There's no way this was done by us." Owen shrugged at their questioning looks. "It was mixed with a compound unlike anything in the Torchwood medical records, not even UNIT has anything that comes close. "
Glancing over at Jack he noticed that the other man was wringing his hands on the table, blue eyes staring angrily at the screen. What on the Earth did the man have to be pissed about when it came to a decapitated tourist and a few unknown elements? He was glaring at the readings as if they had done him a personal injustice.
"So somebody out there is making a new form of retcon, administering it to people and then murdering them?" hissed the Captain.
"It certainly looks that way," answered Owen.
"But we don't know that for sure right?" spoke up Gwen. "I mean how do we know that the retcon and the murder are related?"
Owen found himself turning to her slowly, letting the look of disbelief fill his face.
"Are you kidding me ..." He began but was cut off by Tosh.
"Its to much to be a coincidence," she said softly, removing her glasses and fiddling with the arm. "I can try and figure out the exact base compounds."
Jack nodded: "Do it."
"I'll keep trying to track down our victims identity," said Gwen, standing up and quickly striding from the room obviously keen to get away from Jack's bad mood.
Owen let out a deep sigh, stepped out from underneath Jack's glare and followed Gwen.
---
Nik gently ran his fingers through the damp curls at the back of Anthony's neck, and sighed as the other man rested his sweaty forehead on his chest. Sleeping with Anthony was always an adventure, but then again he was the only male lover Nik had and that was quite an extensive list.
"I'd almost forgotten what that was like," muttered Anthony, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin of Nik's cooling chest. "Two years on Lilonia and I'd forgotten how messy sleeping with humans could be."
Nik huffed out a laugh and let his hands run affectionately down his lovers back as he desperately tried to control his breathing. As much as he wanted to believe that Anthony had returned to the Time Agency from whatever war he had been fighting in a distant part of the galaxy because of his concern for the youngest Garnett, he knew that there was more to this.
"So where is she?" he asked, watching as Anthony rested his chin on his chest and looked up at him with twinkling eyes. "Because there is nothing that would make you run from your family other than Sandy."
"You know me to well," said Anthony with a laugh. "You know I love you right?"
"Of course." Nik tightened his fingers in Anthony's hair and pulled him into a deep kiss. "And I love you."
"She's the mother of my child, my only child Nik," whispered Anthony, pulling back slightly.
"And she's my only sister," answered Nik. "She's going to get herself in a lot of trouble Anthony, more than she's already in, and I know she doesn't give a crap about her own safety but she's left people behind. Vulnerable people, we have to bring her back."
"Do you have any idea what she's trying to prevent?" asked Anthony, settling on his side.
"Not a clue," answered Nik. "She's out there changing the course of history, Sandy's never given a damn about paradoxes before and I know for a fact she's not about to start now."
"She's trying to stop a paradox. Whelmstow sent the Tigers back to the 21st Century to kill all twenty-seven survivors of an ancient battle," said Anthony.
Nik shrugged: "So? The Agency's been doing that sort of thing for decades."
"Yes but these were never supposed to die, he's creating a paradox." Anthony traced his fingers down over Nik's stomach. "One that will cause the Time Agency to never exist and neither you or Sandy ever being born."
"Why the fuck would he want to do that?"
"From what my spies have told me Whelmstow is sick of fighting both you and the resistance for the Time Agency, and he's of the mind that if he can't have it nobody can," he said. "He's going to throw you all into non-existence and he doesn't care."
"So what do we do?" demanded Nik. "I know that Sandy is more than capable, but do you think she can take on the Tigers single handedly?"
"She can probably take on the Tigers but not before they kill a few of their targets."
Nik crossed his arms behind his head and considered that. Oh he knew that Sandy was the best assassin in the universe, and he had seen her take on entire armies and walk out with barely a scratch on her, but what she was attempting now was stealth and inconspicuously, something which she wasn't well versed in. Undoubtedly she would kill each member of the cell, but whether or not she managed to complete her task before the paradox was formed was another matter.
"What do you suggest?" he asked.
With a tell-tale smirk on his face Anthony took a hold of Nik's left arm and placed a hand on the vortex manipulator: "We go to the 21st Century and help her finish them off."
"No ... no." Nik pushed himself into a sitting position and glared down at the other man. "No Anthony, I'm in enough shit with Whelmstow as it is."
"Well any minute now you might not exist," answered Anthony. "So what do you want to do?"
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