Title: The Angel of Death (9/?)

Author: Emma

Characters: Jack Harkness, others

Rating: Starts PG. That's all I know.

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: Far in the future, Jack meets someone he never expected to see again

Author's Note: I don’t know where this came from. I really don’t.

Jack willed himself to relax. “Did you find the transmitter?”

“Yes, we did.”

“Did you disable it?” he demanded.

“No, sir.” She seemed unsure for a moment, but then continued. “I thought it would be better if they didn’t know we knew, for now, anyway. I sent an SOS off to the Torchwood Institute and sat tight.”

Jack threw his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I am very proud of you, granddaughter. Tosh has some equipment that can track a signal back to the beginning of the Universe. All we need is to get to your ship without attracting attention.”

“Well, the ship is a new model, lots of improvement over the old carriers. Maybe you’re curious about the design changes?”

Jack snorted. “And how many people will believe that Jack Harkness would give up a night out on the tiles with a new lover in favor of studying a ship's design?”

“I suppose it would set off bells, wouldn’t it?” She grabbed one of her curls and started playing with it. “What do you suggest?”

“Simple,” Ianto said, with a faint smirk. “My cousin wants to show me her new ship, and Jack comes along because he can’t bear to be away from me.”

She aimed a half-hearted slap at his head. “Oh, you!”

Jack was swamped by a vivid memory of Ianto and Gwen teasing each other while Rhys rolled his eyes and mouthed infants at him. This time he didn't push it away. There had been many happy moments for him in Cardiff as well as many griefs. Perhaps he should allow himself those too.

“All right, kids. Let's go play.” He grinned at them. “And remember, Jack flirts.”

He pressed a button on the wrist strap and disabled the perception filter, knowing that Tosh would meld his real self actions with the ones in the hologame she had been running. He extended his hands out to the two in the grass. They grasped them and he hauled them up easily. He felt Ianto's thumb stroke over the pulse point at his wrist, and he returned an intimate grin that made Ianto blush. Leah took one arm and Ianto the other and they exited the biosphere, leaving behind a trail of speculative looks.

“Good lord, what are they thinking?” Leah teased, opening her eyes wide in the most artificial expression of innocence Jack had ever seen.

Ianto chuckled. “They're thinking Jack's going to get very lucky tonight.”

“Brats. Let's head down this way. Fewer...”

“Jack! You've got trouble.” Tosh's voice sounded in his ear. “Flash mob moving in your direction from the zócalo. It's not as random as it's trying to make itself out to be.”

As if he had intended it all along, Jack pulled his two companions into a narrow passageway that led to the shuttle docking bay. “We have a problem. Flash mob coming and Tosh thinks it's a hit job. We're going to take the shuttle as if we were going to the Toshiko and once we're clear of the main station viewers we'll change direction. Ianto, take the front. Leah, any training?”

“Black belt, Earth-style karate. New Cardiff champion three times in ten years. Will that do?”

“Oh, yeah. Here.” He pulled two comm units out of his pocket and handed them each one. “Put them on. They're self-sealant, won't come off in a fight, and you'll be in touch with Tosh and I every minute. Let's move.”

They ran down the passageway, but before they could get very far, they heard Tosh's voice. “Another mob forming at the docking module intersection. You're going to have to go underground, Jack.”

“Right. Ianto, Leah, this way.”

He studied the wall. It was made of overlapping metal plates riveted together and then welded in place. Every four plates had a small cooling grille set in it at knee level. Jack walked backwards, counting, until he found the one he was looking for. He ran his hand down the plate until he felt a line of indentations under this fingers. He tapped out the code, praying there hadn't been any changes since the last time he had needed to access the tunnels. He breathed easier when he felt the plate swing inwards.

“Inside.”

Behind the plate, a narrow cylindrical tunnel sloped down into darkness. What they could see of it was painted a cold institutional gray. On this side of the bulkhead there was no soundproofing, and they could hear the thrumming of the station's massive engines somewhere below. Jack waited until the hidden door had swung back and then ran his fingers along the seam.

“This way.”

They moved rapidly, their boots making a muted sound that echoed off the curving walls. Luminiscent squares on the ceiling cast enough light to let them see the way, but not enough to show them what was ahead. The tunnel curved and twisted, climbing upwards and then moving down again, until Jack had lost all but the most general sense of direction.

They had been moving for a while when they noticed the tunnel was widening and getting lighter. As they came around yet another turn, they found themselves in a wide circular platform that seemed to float inside a large sphere. They could see other tunnels leading away from the platform at evenly spaced intervals. A massive half-dome was embedded in the middle of the platform. Several rods connected it to the top of the sphere.

“Oh my God,” Leah whispered. “We're in the gyroscope.” She walked to the edge of the platform and peered over the side. “We're in the station's gyroscope.”

Jack nodded. “And we better move. In less than fifteen minutes it's going to tilt on its side and if we're still here we'll end up a smear on the containment field.” He pointed. “We need to get to that tunnel. Don't run, we don't want to add momentum to this thing. Just slide. The floor is slick enough.”

They moved as fast as they could across the platform, skidding around the sphere towards the tunnel's mouth. Jack looked over his shoulder to see Ianto and Leah moving behind him, their faces alight with excitement. He remembered the same look on his own face once upon a time, as he and Rose had chased the Doctor.

They dove into the tunnel, landing in a heap, gasping for air and laughing. Jack found himself tangled around Ianto's chest while Leah had managed to wedge herself between his legs. They looked at each other and erupted again.

“Ahem.”

The discreet little cough made them jump. Jack looked up to find three servos looking down at them – well, aiming their viewers down at them for their Tech to look.

“Captain Harkness, sir.” The voice came from a circular valve below the viewer of the largest servo. “Her ladyship requests that you and your companions join her at dinner.”

Jack pushed himself up. “Galthorpe. Lovely to hear you again. Please tell her ladyship that we accept.”

“Certainly, sir. Please stand on the servo's cargo space and hang on to the handrails. We shall have you with us in no time.” There was a moment's hesitation, and then the voice continued drily. “You will be a little crowded but I do not think you will mind.”

Jack could see the shock on Ianto's eyes as it dawned on him who was addressing them. He was also relieved to note that whatever Ianto's own feelings about it, he had an iron grip on his reactions. The expression quickly changed to one of bland expectancy as he looked to Jack for direction.

“You heard the butler, people.”

They climbed on to the small space and hung on as the servo shot down the tunnel, the smaller two keeping pace behind. The drone of their engines was loud enough to restrict them to handsignals if they had been brave enough to let go of the handrails. In a remarkably short period they came to a stop in front of an elaborately carved door on an otherwise featureless wall. They stepped down and waited as the servos sped down another tunnel and disappeared.

The door swung inwards into an elegant foyer with archways to either side. Directly across from the entrance hung an exquisite Chinese scroll of peonies and butterflies, and below it a low table held a jade sculpture of Kuan Yin. But their attention was held by a servo shaped like a football with arms that bobbled up and down at eye level as it backed away, one of its many arms pointing at the archway to the left.

Jack led the way into a small octagonal room decorated in the most impeccable Art Deco style. A table in front of the fireplace was set up for a meal, and several covered dishes rested on a sideboard against the wall beyond it. An ancient Chinese lady sat at the table. She wore an elaborately embroidered green cheongsam and her hair was swept back into a knot held by a emerald comb. Her eyes were a vivid amber, and she retained an air of great beauty.

“Ai-Shi.” Jack picked up the offered hand, but bent to kiss her passionately. “Gorgeous as ever."