Title: Voices in the Wind, Part Three of Four

Author: Emma

Characters: Canonical Torchwood Three members… sort of.

Rating: Some chapters definitely not safe for work.

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: A betrayal in Toshiko’s past pushes her into a dangerous liaison…

            Tosh juggled the groceries and her bag as she let herself into the house. It was such a relief to be home. The afternoon at work had stretched interminably. She hadn’t understood before. How could she have been so blind?

            They were wrong. In so many ways. Gwen was horrible. The sweet smile concealing all that sickening deceit. And the ghosts! She walked through them and didn’t see them, and she called herself a medium. How the Bishop’s Court had certified her Toshiko would never understand. Maybe she had used some Pagan spell. That had to be it. Well, she would bring it up with Mother Katherine at her next meeting.

            And Owen! Such a weak man, with his women and his booze. Talented, of course; Jack would never hire anyone inferior in their field. But how could he stand himself? He reeked of alcohol and cheap perfume and sex. She had had to keep herself from throwing up every time he came near her.

            Ianto confused her. There was something about him that made her sight blur. He was nearly invisible to her, except for the bright rope that connected him to Jack. And that was horrible, that tether, but at least it displayed his inferior status to anyone who could see. But at least he was human.  Jack…

            Jack was terrifying. All fire and power, and so much not human that her senses reeled when she looked at him. It was horrible to see but so enticing; He would be so delicious to have that if she hadn’t had Mary she would have made a play for him. They would be good together…

            A sharp pain in her temples stopped her in mid-fantasy. Suddenly she wanted to throw up. These were her friends! When her family had turned their backs on her, when her whole world had collapsed, Jack had taken her in. Ianto had taught her to swear in Welsh, and she had taught him naughty things in Japanese. Owen had quietly Healed her when she had slit her wrist in what she chose to remember as an accident, and had never mentioned to anyone. And Gwen brought her ice cream and took her shopping for silly trinkets in the tourist stores. Why did she have to know these things? Why?

            She heard the footsteps outside and rushed to the door, throwing it open. Mary was coming up the steps, carrying a huge bouquet of anemones. She looked up at Tosh and frowned.

            “What’s wrong?”

            Tosh grabbed her hand and pulled her into the flat. “This thing!” she said, grabbing the pendant.  “It’s horrible! How could they say it brings peace? Who can be at peace when you learn so many dreadful things about people?”

            Mary hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize… Perhaps it’s because there’s a certain kind of peace in having no illusions. I learned that after Canary Wharf. It stripped me of all my belief in humanity.”

            “And you can live like that?”

            “Yes. Because when I find the real thing,” she tilted Tosh’s head back, “I know how to value it.”

            It was a proper kiss this time. Tosh wrapped her arms around Mary’s waist and hung on. She wanted so badly to still the voices in her head. She wanted to forget everything that had happened. She wanted to just feel. She could lose herself in Mary for a little while.

            “I think this is about the time,” Mary whispered, “where one of us asks the other if we really want dinner.”

            Tosh giggled. Taking Mary’s hand, she led her into the bedroom. She didn’t bother turning on the lights. The curtains were open, and the gleam of the city was strong enough to let them see each other. Tosh was suddenly nervous. She pulled away slightly until she could see Mary’s face.

            “I’ve never…”

            Mary laid a finger on her lips. “I know. Just play, Serious Toshiko.  Let go and play.”

            Tosh had never experienced something so heady, so exhilarating, as that offer. Serious Toshiko. Yes, she was that. The quiet, bookish child, the one who stayed up studying, the one who read in the library while her friends went to the cinema. The one who never complained if people broke their promises, who accepted the lies she was told because she couldn’t see the truth. Mary was right. It was better not to have any illusions.

            She threw herself into the experience like a starving person throws herself at a laden table. Mary knew the places Tosh wanted touched; how hard, how soft, how wet. Mary’s body, her hands, her mouth, her soft skin, her heady scents, it all became the center of Tosh’s world. She could not remember from one minute to the next what she was doing; all she could do was let Mary into every part of her. Everything receded from Tosh’s mind, everything was pushed away, and all that remained was Mary.

            She woke up hours later, all of a sudden, in a great panic. Something was knocking against the windows. She got out of bed and went to look. A raven was beating its wings madly against the glass, and for a brief moment she wanted to open the window and let him in. But it passed. They were such dirty birds and she had never liked them. She pulled the curtains closed.

            She decided to get some bottled water and bring it back to the bedroom. Mary could wake up thirsty, and there was no need for her to have to go to the kitchen. Maybe she would bring back a few things to eat as well, in case she was hungry. Tosh wanted to do things properly for Mary.

            She prepared a tray, keeping the kitchen lights low so as not to disturb Mary. Once it was ready she turned off the lights, leaving only the small lamp on the side table. Picking up the tray she started back for the bedroom but as she passed the dining table her foot got tangled up in something and she nearly fell. Setting down the tray, she picked it up.

             It was Mary’s bag. She started to put it on top of the table and then realized that she must have overturned it because the flap was open and some things had spilled out. She crouched to pick them up.

            They were photographs of the Torchwood team. Some were group photos, obviously candid shots taken with a telephoto from a distance. Others were clearly from their government files, those files that were supposed to be top secret, gouge-your-eyes-out-after-looking.

            Her photo had a star drawn with marker on the back.

            A little sound caught her attention. She looked up to see Mary standing in the corridor. There was a stricken look on her face, and her eyes seemed to be filled with tears.

            “What is this?” Tosh asked as a wave of despair settled over her. “Why?”

            “Toshiko…”

            “You didn’t run into me. You were looking for me.” She stood up, the photos crumpling in her hand as her fingers clenched. “Was anything you told me true? Did you just use Canary Wharf because you knew how many people I had lost there?”

            “No! I worked in Torchwood London for fifteen years. The only reason we never ran into each other was because I was part of a Major Event Recon Team.”

            Tosh gasped. Recon teams were sent out to investigate paranormal events. Major Events teams went into battle, taking on the worst the paranormal could throw at them, and often did not return.

            “But why this? As a Canary Wharf survivor we could have taken you in, no questions asked. You had to know that.”

            “I knew.” Mary walked into the room. “But I was afraid of Jack. He would have known me immediately, and I couldn’t afford that.”

            “What do you mean?”

            Mary didn’t answer. Instead, Toshiko saw the air around her begin to shimmer, and she felt a soft breeze caress her face. Mary’s body changed, becoming longer and somehow more supple. Her shoulder-length hair became a gleaming mass of black curls that reached her knees. But it was the magnificent sweep of silver-tipped black wings sprouting from each shoulder that made Toshiko nearly crumple to her knees.

            “Jack would see this. Can you be sure, after what you learned about him today, that he would really take me in? That any of them wouldn’t kill me on sight? You know what they’re like, you saw! I would have ended up in a weevil cage, and you know it.” Mary stroked Tosh’s cheek. “Please. Listen to me. I came looking for you because I knew you would help me.”

            “What… what do you want?”

            “The anemone casket. No, please, listen. It’s a funeral casket. It holds my sisters’ ashes. I’ve been looking for it for a long time.”

            “Ianto said it was older than the pyramids.”

            Mary nodded. “Yes. We, my sisters and I, were born very, very long ago, in the place you call Nineveh. When we were eight we were taken to our Lady’s temple and given to Her. She made us into this,’ she gestured to herself, “so we could serve Her better. She ruled over our people for a thousand years. But something happened… Great storms swept in every spring, and crops rotted in the fields. The sand began to cover more and more… Our Lady was the land, and as the land grew weak, so did She. One day when we came to bring her breakfast, She was dead. My sisters sacrificed themselves on Her funeral pyre. I lived to carry on Her memory.”

            Tosh touched Mary’s cheeks, now wet with tears. “What do you want me to do?”