Owen sipped his drink and watched Diane. She was telling him about learning to fly, and he was listening, he really was, but part of him was just watching. The way her hands moved as she demonstrated an aerial maneuver; the way her eyebrows rose when she teased him; the way she raised her glass; the way her lips curved as she smiled at him, letting him know she knew he was watching.

The Torchwood part of him was wondering what the hell Ianto was up to. He was sitting on the sofa next to Emma-Louise, holding her hand and talking to her earnestly. If the barely concealed panic on Gwen's face was anything to go by, Ianto was balancing on the edge of disaster. The little copper was a tough customer, and if she was scared, Owen knew for certain he should be too.

“Discarded so soon for a pretty face.”

The acid edge on Diane's words had him turning back towards her. “What?”

“Emma-Louise. You've been staring at her.”

“Not her. Him. He doesn't seem to be quite...” He made a vague gesture.

Diane laughed. “The right sort? I suppose not. Alan Vansittart. Poor as a church mouse. Makes his living off of rich, bored matrons. How he got his claws on Emma-Louise is beyond me. I would have thought Ellis and his wife kept a tighter rein on her social contacts. On the other hand, I can see why she would be interested. Those amazing gray eyes... What woman wouldn't?”

Owen felt a cold chill run down his back. Obviously, where he saw blue-eyed Ianto Jones, Diane was seeing someone else. That meant Ianto was using his power to influence how some people saw him. During the Lisa debacle Owen had learned that Ianto hated that part of his power and would only use it in extreme circumstances. They were really in trouble.

“Yeah. No wonder. Fancy another Coke?”

“No, thanks.”

“Something stronger?”

“Flying and booze make for a bad combination. I live on the twelve-hour rule.” She answered his unspoken question. “No alcohol twelve hours before a flight.”

“Ah.” Owen took the glasses and headed towards the sideboard. As he passed Jack and Gwen, sitting at the table with John Ellis, he gave them a bland glance. After a few moments, he heard them get up and follow. When they reached him, he went through the motions of offering drinks.

“The man sitting next to Emma-Louise,” he whispered, “is one Alan Vansittart. Aristocratic gigolo. Diane was actually shocked to see them together.”

“Ellis wasn't happy to see him,” Gwen said in the same tone. “I thought he was going to jump up and hit him. But it was like he couldn't move.”

“Maybe he couldn't,” Jack said. “You said this was a construct. Maybe what we're seeing is a performance.”

Owen had been looking over their shoulders. “Or somebody's version of reality? How real can it be that an upper crust young Catholic lady of the nineteen fifties would sit down to a chat with a Pagan medium? Or that a notorious businessman would be subservient to a twenty-two year old girl? Or...”

“Or that a man like Doctor Owen Harper would fall in love with a grease monkey with a nasty past?” Diane said softly. “Especially one who is dead?”

They turned to find her standing close behind them. Her eyes were locked on Owen.

“I was going to say how real can it be that a woman like Diane Holmes would fall in love with me at first sight?” He said softly. “When did you know?”

“When your friend came in. He looked like Alan Vansittart, but... he didn't. And suddenly, I was seeing my own death.” She staggered slightly. “And a second later I realized it had already happened. I've been trying to keep myself from screaming but... I think I'm going to need that drink.”

He poured a generous amount into a glass and passed it over. “So it's Emma-Louise.”

She nodded. “I think so. I remember a little about... it wasn't an accident, was it? She called his name. I think she said I'll never let you go. But I really wasn't paying attention. I was trying to keep the Gypsy from crashing into St. Mary Street on a shopping day.” She shuddered. “I managed by the skin of my teeth.” She tossed back the rest of the whiskey. “How's she keeping us here?”

“We don't know.” Jack said. “But I think our friend has figured it out.”

“She's very strong,” Gwen murmured. “I can't find a single crack in the construct. But she's not completely in control. We've been talking for a while now and she hasn't noticed it.”

“She's concentrating on them.” Diane replied. “In life John Ellis would have made mincemeat out of Alan Vansittart. In that reality, those two men have to be kept apart.”

“That's what Ianto's up to,” Jack said. “He's going to try to make her lose control.”

“We better be ready for it,” Gwen set down her glass. “Wraiths can get very violent when they feel threatened.”

They drifted back to their seats. Owen hesitated for only a second before perching on the arm of the sofa and reaching for Diane's hand. She didn't look at him, but twined her fingers through his and held tight. It felt real, he thought. Solid. Maybe their love had been born out of a young woman's imagination, but it felt as right and true as his love for Katie had been.

Ianto said something in a voice too low for the words to be overheard, but from the tone and the sharp gesture Owen could guess it was not pleasant. Emma-Louise jumped up, holding out her hands like a heroine in a silent melodrama, but somehow in her the gesture seemed natural. Owen felt saddened by the realization that in spite of everything Emma-Louise Cowell was just a young woman in love.

“Why? Why won't you marry me? Don't you love me?”

“Of course I do.” Ianto kept his voice level. “But it can't happen, Emma. If we had been more realistic we would have known it from the beginning. I'm not a fit husband for you.”

“Isn't that my choice to make?”

“No. You're not just Emma-Louise. You are Cowell Industries and there are literally thousands of people relying on you.” He held up his hand to silence the threatening flood of words. “Ask Mr. Ellis if you don't want to believe me.”

She turned to her guardian, staring fixedly at him with eyes grown huge and feverish. “John?”

Ellis started to say something then stopped. Finally he dragged the words out with what seemed like an immense effort of will. “He's right, Emmie. You... can't.”

“But I love him,” Emma-Louise said in a desolate little whisper. She turned back to Ianto. “I love you.”

“No, you don't.” Ianto replied. “How can you? You have experienced nothing of life yet. They've protected you and coddled you and kept you from everything a girl your age should have experienced. After you have done a bit more living, then maybe you can talk about love.”

Owen knew the exact moment Emma-Louise's control started to slip. Diane's hand grew insubstantial in his, as if he were holding a palmful of smoke. Then it became solid again. He brought it up to his lips and kissed each finger. He felt her other hand grip his knee as she also fought to retain the link between them.

“No! I won't listen!” Emma-Louise's scream literally shook the building. “I shall have what I want to have!”

“Stop being so childish.” Ianto's voice now carried an edge of contempt. “You were raised better than this.”

In the sudden silence, they heard the sound of a plane's engine revving up . In the enclosed space of the hangar, it rattled them to their very bones.

“It's time to go,” Emma-Louise said composedly. “Come, John, Miss Holmes. We need to start ag...”

“No!” Diane said. “I won't play this game anymore. I don't know how you managed to do this to us, but you're not doing it again. I'm not your puppet, damn it!”

The whine of the engine became unbearable. The hangar shook and rattled and papers and small objects flew everywhere. Owen protected Diane as best he could from the missiles and he noticed Jack was doing the same for Gwen.

“Stop it, Emma-Louise!” Ianto stepped in front of her, blocking the way to the door. “You don't know what you're doing!”

“I know that I love you!”

“You don't know anything!” He raised his wards, allowing her mind to see him as he really was. “You didn't even know I'm not Alan Vansittart!”

Her scream turned into a roar as she let go of the construct to direct all her energies against him. The psychic blow lifted Ianto off his feet and tossed him several feet away to crash against the wall and slide down to the dirty floor. She started towards him, arms outstretched, her hands turning into clawed paws as the fingers grew razor-sharp nails, her face distorting into a horrible caricature of itself, as she focused all her need for revenge on him.

But in turning her back to the rest of them she had given Jack the chance he had been waiting for. He launched himself into a flat dive, slamming into her and wrapping his arms around her upper body, trapping her against him.

“Emma-Louise, stop. Stop!” He screamed in her ear. “Don't do this.”

“Where is he? Alan! Alan!” Her face grew calm and vacant. “You must come to me. I'm waiting for you..”

Owen knew what Jack was going to do next. There was nothing else they could do. But once Emma-Louise had passed through the Gate, everything she had created would disappear, and everyone she had forced to stay would be free to leave. He stood up, dragging Diane to her feet and kissed her. He felt her arms go around him and cling tightly for a few seconds, then she pushed him away gently.

“Don't tempt me, Owen. It would be so easy to end up like her.” She cupped his face in her hands, rubbing her thumbs over his cheekbones. “I do care about you. Very much. But I'm out of time in every sense of the phrase. And besides... there might be adventures beyond this one.”

“And you are an adventurous woman,” he smiled through the tears.

“Wish me luck?”

“Always. Forever.” He kissed her one last time. “Go with God, Diane Holmes.”

He stepped back, nodding to Jack. He watched as Jack pressed his lips to Emma-Louise's forehead. The girl was unresponsive and Owen had the terrible feeling that there was nothing left of the tenacious mind they had encountered. He watched as the glow enveloped them both and Emma-Louise Cowell's spirit left the material plane and Jack was left empty-armed. Then he turned and made for the exit, slowing down briefly as he passed Ianto, who was using Gwen's shoulders to hold himself up. When Ianto nodded reassuringly, he picked up speed again until he was outside, breathing clean air.

Toshiko appeared out of the mass of police that surrounded the hangar. She ran to stand in front of him, studying his face without saying a word. Then she put her arm around his waist and snuggled her shoulders under his. He leaned on her gratefully.

“Come on,” she said. “I'll take you home, spoon some soup into you, and let you tell me all about it.”