Title: The uncertain future
Jack stared dumbly off into space even as the tray of tea came clattering to a halt on the desk in front of him. Rhydian began pouring it out into three cups without asking if anyone wanted it or not.

'Thank you, Rhydian,' Llinos said, taking the proffered cup as a matter of course and sipping it without adding any milk or sugar, in a way that was so very un-British of her. 'How's your head?' she asked, rubbing her own neck from where it had been awkwardly twisted as she'd lain unconscious in the interrogation room. She still couldn't be sure what she'd been given that had caused her the black out like that. One minute she'd been collecting up her notes from their earlier discussions with the alien boy she and Jack had picked up from the train station, and the next she was waking up with her cheek pressed against the hard concrete floor. There'd been no warning, no sense of dizziness or fatigue. Just awake one moment, unconscious the next. She'd worked here long enough to know that was wrong and had quickly dashed up the steps, grabbing her gun and doing a sweep of the main level. Finding no one there, she'd raced down to the cells, thinking maybe Neil, their alien in custody had done something to her. What's she'd discovered paled in comparison.

Rhydian worked his fingers back through his short, sandy blond hair and perched himself in the chair next to Jack. 'Fine,' he replied. 'Managed to miss hitting everything in reception as I went down for the count.'

Llinos nodded, sipping her tea again. She was sat in the chair behind Tilda Brennan's desk for a lack of anywhere else to sit. She only had two chairs in here and Jack and Rhydian were occupying them, leaving her in the auspicious seat of their leader. Former leader, she corrected herself, unable to shake the memory of seeing their boss lying in the cell with her blood and brings splattered all over the wall. Her expression in death, as in life, had been one of unguarded displeasure, like she was unhappy at being murdered in her own feifdom. And she would have been, Llinos thought.

'Drink the tea, Jack,' she commanded.

He ignored her, keeping his eyes down in his lap, his face ashen. 'It should have been me,' he said, his voice barely a shadow of its usual strength.

'It could have been any of us,' she replied, referring not to their dead leader but to the other unfortunate victim - Greg Bishop.

'You saw the words, Llinos. Revenge, Jack. Revenge for the future.' He fell silent and sullen again, unwilling to verbalise the memory of those last few seconds before Greg had been snatched away from him, screaming in agony and a blaze of white light. It wasn't temporary; this was forever. Revenge for something he hadn't yet done. They'd taken Greg away from him as punishment. There wasn't even a body for them to mourn over.

Llinos let her gaze drift down to the tatty diary o the desk between them. Its cover was black and marred by the intense flames that had attempted to consume it. A faintly acrid smell of burnt tannins and chemicals wafted from its leather exterior. With a letter opener she prised the pages carefully back open. The middle ones were completely turned to ash where the diary had fallen open before it had issued its ominous message. Careful flipping showed the pages either side curled and blackened at the edges but otherwise as blank and unblemished as before. There were no more messages inside its pages for Jack or anyone else.

'What now?' Rhydian asked.

Llinos gave a sigh and set her cup down. 'We'll have to tell Torchwood One. They'll want to send someone down here to take over, I presume.'

'Why can't you do it, Jack? You know more about this place than anyone.' Rhydian's statement caught Llinos off guard. He was rarely so forward in voicing any opinions, but then again, there was no one else left now to voice them. It was the elephant in the room and they both knew it.

She could tell he didn't want it. Not then, and especially not now. Losing Greg had broken something inside him. Llinos missed the old Jack already. She loved those cheeky kisses he gave her and the way he complimented her flame red hair, narrow waist and ample bosom. But it was Greg that he loved. He rest of his flirting and the kisses didn't count. That was just Jack - part time Torchwood operative with benefits. Llinos didn't mind. She enjoyed Jack's physical way - those stolen kisses in the Torchwood Daimler, and anywhere else he fancied - but it she didn't love Jack. She knew he was meant for someone else, and that someone was Greg. No one could twist Jack's arm like Greg could. He'd probably never turn up at Torchwood if Greg wasn't around. Jack and Brennan had never seen eye to eye. They were two clashing personalities and leadership styles. Jack didn't like being told what to do and Brennan relished having a firm hand on the tiller. And that was to say nothing of their conflicting views on how to deal with the aliens that came through that rift and ended up down in their cells. Jack was a humanitarian at heart. Brennan was just... well, Brennan. Llinos wasn't even sure if she had a heart.

Llinos winced as the tea ran down the back of her throat, hot and astringent, just the way it should be. Greg's disappearance was hurting her too. She'd liked him from day one, that serious conscientiousness, tinged with a caring sensitive underbelly and a sharp mind. He was Torchwood material, no mistaking. His only downside, it if could be described as such, was being far too handsome. He was catnip for a man like Jack so it didn't surprise her in the least that Jack didn't hesitate in commencing his pursuit. What had struck her as surprising was that Greg relented. His homosexuality had been kept under wraps, as it should have been, she accepted, knowing that it was a criminal offense, rightly or wrongly. But Torchwood was different, and being homosexual didn't carry any weight in your ability to do the job. Whether Tilda Brennan agreed didn't seem to be in question. She let their burgeoning relationship continue and used Greg when it suited her to get Jack to tow the line.

And as for Jack? There was no denying he'd become totally besotted by their medical officer. He was a different person when Greg was in the room, like everything he did was trying to impress the man. And he wasn't afraid to show his affection, whether it was the appropriate moment for it or not. Small wonder Jack was taking this hard. He'd found something in Greg that couldn't be easily replaced.

'Drink the bloody tea, Jack!' Llinos barked, suddenly annoyed at his funk. She had to get him to do something - anything - other than just sit there like a statue. He grabbed at the cup throwing it back all in one go, scalding or not, and then shoved the teacup back across the desk.

'Should I arrange to start on Doctor Brennan's autopsy?' Rhydian asked. All things medical had of course been Greg's remit, but Rhydian, for all his youth and inexperience seemed determined to bridge the gap.

'I don't think your naval first aid training is quite sufficient,' she replied. 'Besides, I think we all know what killed her.' A webley .455 caliber bullet to the head, courtesy of Jack Harkness. If the situation hadn't been so dire, Llinos might have said Tilda Brennan had it coming. 'On second thoughts,' she said, casting a look across the desk at their youngest member, 'get the preparatory stuff done. London won't be happy without paperwork.'

Rhydian swallowed the last of his tea and set the cup back on the tray. He put an uncharacteristically sympathetic hand on Jack's shoulder, giving it a squeeze before leaving Brennan's office.

'Jack, look at me,' Llinos asked. Whether she wanted to or not, she had to take charge. Jack did so reluctantly and she could see the pain etched in his blue eyes. 'Greg's gone. We can't change that. You can't switch places with him, as much as you might want to. Whatever this things is, the thing that possessed Brennan and this diary are connected. As for Neil,' she paused and pinched her fingers along the bridge of her nose. Until now she'd forgotten all about the other casualty down in the cells, the alien passing itself off as a rude cockney schoolboy, now lay disemboweled after Brennan's interrogation. 'I don't know what to make of that. Was Brennan just being her overzealous self or had the alien suss out that something else was controlling her?' What a mess this all was.

'I don't care about Neil,' Jack muttered.

Llinos slapped a hand down on the desk. It sent a ripple through the china cups on the desk. It infuriated her that Jack was the only one allowed to wallow and mourn. 'For Christ's sake, Jack, you need to pull yourself together. We need you. This revenge for the future stuff, we need to figure out what it means.'

His cold blue gaze rose to meet hers. 'I know what it means, Llinos. Something I do years from now gets Greg killed. It's not bad enough that what I do here and now gets people killed. All this life in me and I can't trade a single bit of it for someone else.' There was so much anger and pain in his voice.

'So we keep digging,' Llinos insisted. 'If we can find out who or what is behind this,' she said, holding up the diary and watching as flakes of black ash fluttered from its edges, 'then maybe we'll figure out enough to prevent whatever happens in the future. It might even be enough to change the past.'

'Undo the need for revenge,' Jack replied, though he didn't sound at all hopeful.

'Exactly. Greg wouldn't want you to just give up. He'd want you to keep going, and to get the bastards who did this.'

Jack gave a wan little smile. 'Maybe Torchwood One should put you in charge. You're not bad at this.'

'Hell, no,' she replied, squirming in Brennan's chair. This was the first and last time she'd sit on this side of the desk. I wouldn't want this job for anything.'

'You seem to enjoy bossing me around, though.' There was a little return of spark and cheek in the comment.

Llinos rolled her eyes at him. 'Yeah, and then you come and snog me and you'll have me doing anything you want.'

'My snogging days are done,' Jack replied, the shadow returning to his demeanor. His head bowed. 'I shouldn't have fallen in love with him.'

'As if any of us have a say in whether we fall in love,' she mused. 'We're going to do everything we can to try and get Greg back. You, me, Rhydian, and whatever idiot London decides to put in charge around here. We're a team, Jack.'

He sniffed and rubbed a hand over his face, trying to massage that mask of invincibility back into place. Just like Brennan, Llinos knew Jack would do anything for Greg and she didn't feel the slightest bit of guilt at using that same technique to get what she wanted out of him.

'Rhydian should have that body up in the autopsy room by now,' she declared. 'I don't think we'll find anything left in her brain that hasn't been cast all over the cell walls that will tell us what possessed her, but I'm itching to get a scalpel to open up her chest and find out if she really does have a heart.'