Title: Evolution (15/20)

Author: Emma

Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Rhys Williams, others

Rating: Starts PG, but hey, it’s got Jack and Ianto in it!

Disclaimer: Oh, please. If I owned them, would I let some of those idiots write the scripts? And if I were making any money off them, would I be where they could find me?

Summary: Rhys Williams has his own monsters to fight, but why can’t he remember?

Author’s Note: This story takes place in a totally different AU from Homecoming. In this one, Gwen and Owen died at the end of TW2.

Author’s Note: Now that my life has finally gotten back to what passes for normal. I should be able to post more regularly!

Prologue is here; Part one is here; Part two is here ; Part three is here ; Part four is here ; Part five is here ; Part six is here ; Part seven is here ; Part eight is here ; Part nine is here; Part ten is here ; Part eleven is here ; Part twelve is here; Part thirteen is here: Part fourteen is here

            We chased Euan down to the barn. He flung the door open and stood in the center of the space, turning in a slow circle as he examined the walls.

 

            “Euan, mate, what are you doing?”

 

            “Remember I told you about playing here on rainy days? One time, Mrs. Jones caught us. We were looking at the castle… There’s a big panel that has a castle with knights and dragons and a lady’s garden full of flowers. Mrs. Jones went barmy. She grabbed Ollie and shook him until I thought his head was going to come off his neck, and she wouldn’t stop until he screamed at her that he would tell his mom about the castle, and you’ve never seen anybody let go so fast in your whole life. She shoved us out the door and the next day Tim Allen came and installed padlocks on all the doors and windows. So where is… there!”

 

            He ran up to a pile of boxes and started tossing them aside. We all pitched in until we had cleared out a sizable area at the back, where the barn abutted the hill. Jack looked at the panel and gave a low whistle.

 

            “Amazing. That’s Kidwelly Castle, isn’t it?”

 

            “Yeah. Ollie’s tad-cu came from there.” Euan ran his hands across the panel’s surface. “Let’s see if we can find a rose.”

 

            The panel covered about half the back wall. We each took a section and went over it with a fine tooth comb, only to end up disappointed. Ollie’s grandfather had carved over one hundred species of flowers on the panel, but not a single rose.

 

            “Damn.” Euan shook his head. “I was so sure!”

 

            “Don’t give up yet.” Ianto was rubbing his hands over a cluster of five-petalled flowers.” Look here.”

 

            “That’s not a rose.”

 

            “Technically, no. This is Hibiscus Syriacus. Its common name is Rose of Sharon.”

 

            “Jesus, Ianto,” I laughed. “The things you know.”

 

            “Well, Megan Evans liked flowers and I liked Megan Evans…” His pressed gently on one of the petals. “Ah.”

 

            Something made a clicking noise and the panel swung out, revealing a narrow doorway. A few seconds later, overhead lights came on automatically. The room beyond was small, more like a converted storage room than something meant for a medical office, but from where I was I standing I could see a reclining examination table, a cabinet filled with boxes and vials and a bookcase. Next to the table was a chair and a sort of stand. On the table was a large envelope.

 

            Ianto motioned to Jack. “I can’t see anything, but…”

 

            Jack brought his forearm across his chest and pressed a few buttons on his wrist strap. A thin beam of pure white light swept across the room several times. At one point it stopped high up near the ceiling and turned bright yellow. Jack pressed another button, and we heard a soft pop.

 

            “A motion activated camera,” Jack said. “It’ll look like an insect crawled in and short-circuited it.” He looked around. “It’s a bit cramped in here. You’d have thought they would have done a better job of it.”

 

            “I think it’s a case of using an existing space,” I said. “We’re not as famous for it as the Cornish, but we Welsh did a fair bit of smuggling over the years. Most houses and barns in this area had a hiding place or two. I guess Mr. Jones built this in the traditional style.”

 

            “Makes sense. Ianto…”

 

            “Jack.” Ianto held out the envelope. “You need to see this.”

 

            Jack turned the envelope over. Where the address should have been there were only two lines, done in exquisite copperplate calligraphy. Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood. Jack gave a funny little sigh.

 

            “It really was her, then,”

 

            We were all looking at him as he opened the envelope. Inside there were a stack of what looked like printouts from an EKG machine, a photograph, and a folded note. He opened the note, glanced at it, then passed it on to Ianto. He took a much longer time looking at the photograph, and then flipped it over so we all could see it.

 

            It showed a group of young men and women, outdoors, sitting on a blanket. It was spring; lilacs bloomed everywhere, and if you looked closely enough you could see tiny purple and white violets poking up through the grass. The girls were wearing long flowery dresses with straw hats. On the left was Jack, with his arms around a pretty redhead. They were smiling at each other, paying no attention to the camera.

 

            “That’s Mrs. Jones, isn’t it?’ Euan asked.

 

            “Her name was Celie De La Roche. Her father was an outspoken opponent of the Vichy regime. Her family was whisked out of Paris by some British agents one step ahead of the Gestapo. She never forgot her debt. She was recruited by Torchwood right out of University. She was a biologist supposedly working with alien flora that had washed through the Rift.” His usually expressive face was blank as if he were reciting the facts of a stranger’s life. “We met and fell in love, or at least I did. I found out later I was her biology project. She was to get pregnant so they could have a… biological sample to experiment on. It never happened. Turns out my DNA is different enough to make pregnancy difficult. Not impossible. Just difficult.”

 

            Euan kept looking from the photo to Jack and back again without saying a word. It was obvious he was trying to reconcile the vibrant young couple looking into each other’s eyes with the old woman lying dead in the orchard and the man in front of him – a man who seemed not to have aged a day in fifty years. All I could think was welcome to Torchwood, mate. From now on it just gets weirder and weirder.