Title: Bred in the Bone (15/20)

Author: Emma

Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Andy Davidson, Toshiko Sato, 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: Andy Davidson must embrace his inheritance in order to protect Jack and Ianto’s daughter Gwen

Author's Note: This is an AU where Gwen and Owen were killed by Gray. So if you want to know why Martha is married to Rhys and Jack and Ianto have a CP and two adopted daughters, you may want to read Evolution first

Author’s Note: The title is shamelessly stolen from Robertson Davies’s magnificent novel. It’s also an old saying: what’s bred in the bone will out in the flesh

 Part One is here; Part Two is here; Part Three is here; Part Four is here; Part Five is here; Part Six is here; Interlude 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; Interlude Two is here
 

            I woke up with the sunrise, as all Tylwyth do. A weak gray light and the roll of thunder in the distance announced a stormy morning. I sent off mental good wishes to the poor sods in the Cardiff Division constabulary whose job it would be to unsnarl rush hour traffic. One upon a time it had been my job – mine and Gwen’s.

            Gwen, who had gone from uniform to Torchwood in the blink of an eye. Resilient, caring Gwen, who had died to insure Cardiff’s survival, and who, according to Rhys, had used her last breath to mark John Hart’s soul. Gwen, in whose memory I had joined Torchwood because I believed someone had to continue the fight. Gwen’s absence was a hole in all our hearts.

            “What are you thinking about?”

            I looked at Toshiko, sweetly sleep-rumpled and deliciously nude, and my heart turned over. In a way this was also a gift from Gwen. When he had offered me the job, Jack had told me he had been talking to Gwen about hiring more investigative-type staff, and had mentioned some retired UNIT personnel. Gwen had snorted and said if it’s real coppers you want, look for people like Andy Davidson. Less than three months later she was dead and he was offering me her job.

            “Gwen. How much I owe her for you. How much I miss her sometimes.”

            “Me too. We didn’t start out good, but we’d gotten pretty close by the time she died… oh!”

            “What is it?”

            “I just remembered. Right before John and Gray showed up, Gwen and I had been talking about you. She wanted to have a small dinner party, just the four of us. I think she was matchmaking a little.” She gave me a glorious smile. “Do you think it would have worked?”

            “Probably not. I had a crush on her and you had one on Owen.” I hauled her atop me so I could kiss her. “Or maybe we would have heard the bluebells anyway.”

            She straddled me at hip level and rocked gently. “Heard the bluebells?”

            “You evil woman… In Tylwyth there was a flower that looked much like a bluebell, but the ovary was a rigid tube that produced a musical… stop that, you little devil… musical note when air entered it. During marriage season the fields would be full of gwrm’yn playing their tunes in the breeze. Grandmother told me… I’m giving you two decades to stop that… the beldames wept with joy when they saw bluebells for the first time. We still prefer to marry during bluebell season…. Tosh!”

            When we woke up the next time, rain was lashing the bedroom windows and my cell phone was ringing. I snagged it off the bedside table.

            “Andy Davidson.”

            “Mr. Davidson, this is Sally Christie at St. Teilo’s School. You asked me to tell you when the headmistress returned from her conference. She’s back and I’ve taken the liberty to speak to her on your behalf. She says she can see you in about an hour. Is that acceptable?”

            “Absolutely. Thank you. We’ll be right there.”

            We showered and dressed in record time. I had stayed the night at Tosh’s flat, but the Small Ones had taken it upon themselves to provide me with clean clothes and all manner of necessities, like a toothbrush and a razor. I had spent most of my adult life trying to avoid the entanglement of retainers, but I had to admit it had its advantages.

            The drive to Saint Teilo’s was no more unpleasant than rain and the usual mad driving of the locals could make it; in other words we escaped disaster several times by the skin of our teeth. Parking was no problem. Mrs. Christie had left instructions that we could use the staff lot, and close enough to the door to let us avoid a soaking. She was waiting for us just inside and led us to the Headmistress’ office.

            I don’t know what I was expecting, but it was not what I found. Mrs. Christie was the spitting image of the secretary at my old secondary school, bun-haired, full of vinegar, and taking no liberties from any snot-nosed student or professor that crossed her path. I assumed Mrs. Merrill to be of the same imperious sort. Instead I was greeted by a tall, willowy woman just on the far border of middle age, with exquisite chocolate skin and a face that reminded me of an African sculpture. In fact, she reminded me of Martha’s mother, Francine.

            “Thank you for seeing us, Mrs. Merrill. This is my associate, Toshiko Sato.”

            “I am most concerned about the message you left with Sallie, or rather, about the message you did not leave. Sallie is expert at reading between the lines. Torchwood thinks there’s a problem with one of our students.”

            “Yes, ma’am. What can you tell us about a student named Jasmine Pierce? She registered recently and has become very friendly with Gwen Harkness-Jones.”

            She sat back, but noticeably did not relax. “We do not have a student named Jasmine Pierce, Mr. Davidson. We have, or rather, did have, one named Jasmine Pilgrim. As you say, a friend of Gwen.”

            “Pilgrim?”

            “Yes. She was registered by her aunt, Susan Pilgrim. She’s a UNIT administrator recently transferred here from London. Yesterday Ms. Pilgrim came and took Jasmine out of class. She told Sallie there was a family emergency and she didn’t know when they would be back.”

            “Is there anything else you can tell us about her, Mrs. Merrill?” Toshiko said, noticing the headmistress’ reluctance. “For Gwen’s sake. It’s very important.”

            “I didn’t have much interaction with her, but… “ She flicked on her intercom. “Sallie, would you come in, please?”

            Mrs. Christie walked in, her usual I’m-not-interested-in-this-silliness expression firmly in place, but there was a glitter in her eyes that told me she was dying to have an excuse to talk.

            “Ms. Pilgrim would talk with Sallie from time to time.” She gestured to the other woman. “Would you tell Mr. Davidson and Miss Sato about Ms. Pilgrim, Sallie?”

            “Surely. She was always pleasant and businesslike, except she had a religious bee in her bonnet. She kept inviting me to some sort of meeting, sounded more like self-help claptrap if you ask me. Told me I needed to accept the great unknown and open my heart and all sorts of silly things. And me the granddaughter and grandniece of moderators, I ask you, attending chapel every blessed Sunday.” She shook her head. “And it wasn’t catching close to home either, I can tell you. Jasmine used to make faces behind her back when she was off in one of her preaching fits.”

            “Thank you, Mrs. Christie.” Tosh stood up abruptly. “I think we got what we came for. Thank you so much.”

            She nearly dragged me out of the office, under the interested gazes of the Headmistress and her secretary. I followed her meekly, but half-way to the car my usual bloody-mindedness reasserted itself and I dug in my heels.

            “Tosh? You want to tell me what’s going on?”

            “Suzie Costello, that’s what’s going on.” She sounded positively venomous.

            “How could… Suzie have done anything?” I was utterly at sea. “Isn’t she dead?”

            “Well, that didn’t stop her the first time, did it?” She pulled me to the car and nearly shoved me into the driver’s seat. “You’ve read the files, right? Do you remember the name of the group Suzie was attending before she killed herself?”

            I sat up, jolted. “Pilgrim.”

            “Yeah. Pilgrim. And right before she died the second time she told Jack something in the darkness was coming for him.”