Special Unit 3 - Part 6 of 9
Aug. 10th, 2009 10:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wiseheartTitle: SPECIAL UNIT 3
Author: Soledad
Fandom: Torchwood/Special Unit 2 x-over, with a guest appearance of the Tenth Doctor.
Category: Heavy-duty Gwen bashing and a great deal of silliness.
Rating: 14+ for this chapter, for language.
Genre: Crackfic, with gender bending, body swap, whatever – the whole nine miles.
Series: none
Timeframe: indefinite. Perhaps “Sleepers”, from Series 2 for Torchwood, but not necessarily.
Summary: Once again, Gwen fumbles around with something she was told not to touch. The consequences are…unusual.
Disclaimer: the usual: don’t own, don’t sue! Everything belongs to RTD and BBC - and UPN, respectively.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
PART SIX: A STRANGE LITTLE MAN
Author’s notes:
And this was where my fantasy ran free with me… so sorry. I'm afraid the working of the artefact has nothing to do with science, not even with fictional science, but that's the best I could come up with.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ianto watched the unfamiliar man wearing a kilt get out of his convertible, close the door and march towards the invisible lift with a confidence that revealed that he knew exactly what he was looking for.
“You know the man, Jack?” he asked. Jack nodded.
“Oh, yeah. That’s the infamous Archie McAllister, the head of Torchwood Two.”
“The one you always call a strange little man?” Owen studied the newcomer as it stepped onto the stone slab of the lift. “Well, he does look a bit strange, but he isn’t that little, actually. What’s he doing here?”
“I wish I knew,” Jack muttered. “Usually, it takes a planetwide crisis to get him out of his den in Glasgow.”
“Are we having a planetwide crisis?” Ianto inquired with suddenly spiking curiosity.
“Not that I’d know of,” Jack replied. “Of course, we’ve been a little preoccupied with our… erm… domestic problems here.”
“That’s as good a word for it as any,” Ianto agreed amiably, and they watched the invisible lift descend with the unexpected visitor.
The leader of the Glasgow branch – if one could use such a lofty title for someone who was running an insignificant little outpost on his own – was indeed by no means a little man. Not as tall as Jack or Ianto originally had been, of course, but slightly over average height all the same, and not bad-looking at all. With his collar-length brow hair, pale blue eyes and a face that vaguely resembled of a middle-aged Paul McCartney, he had little to nothing in common with his presumably fierce ancestors of the Scottish Highlands, despite the kilt that he was wearing. In truth, he looked rather like a somewhat distracted college professor. He could be in his early forties, tops.
He stepped off the invisible lift and looked around in the Hub with interest. The completely unfamiliar people staring at him didn’t seem to bother him a bit.
“Greetings,” he said with a slight Scottish accent. “I’m Sir Archibald McAllister, leader of Torchwood Two. Can you tell me where I can find Captain Jack Harkness?”
At the same moment, the cog door rolled to the side and Tosh came in, with Andy in tow, both wearing somewhat ill-fitting clothes. Upon seeing the Torchwood Two leader, Tosh’ face lit up in delight like a Christmas tree.
“Archie!” she squealed, hurrying to the visitor with open arms. “What are you doing here?”
In the last moment she stopped, though, and blinked sheepishly. “Oh. Of course you wouldn’t recognise me like this.”
McAllister looked at her questioningly for a moment; then he seemed to realise what must have happened. “Toshiko? Is that you?”
“Afraid so,” Tosh replied, a little surprised by his accurate guess.
“Oh, my,” McAllister frowned. “Have you messed around with that Chulan reality manipulator UNIT handed over to you a couple of weeks ago?”
The collective jaws of the Torchwood Three gang hit the floor simultaneously.
“What on Earth…” Jack began, but McAllister waved impatiently.
“Please, Jack… it is Jack, isn’t it?” Jack nodded, and McAllister continued. “Yeah, thought so. The looks have changed, but not the attitude. Anyway, I might be eccentric in your eyes, but I’m not an idiot, you know. Plus, I always monitor any communications between you and UNIT, so I’m fairly well informed all the time.”
“What?” Owen asked, really annoyed now. “You’ve been spying on us? Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Not really,” McAllister admitted. “You can’t imagine how boring Glasgow can be, in terms of alien infestation. In fact, the last alien sighted, back in the 1970s, turned out to be a really drunk hippie on a trip, so I have to occupy myself somehow. My cats only need so much attention, and one can’t spend one’s whole time in the gym or in the library. You should be grateful though; if I hadnae monitored your communications, I couldnae be here to help you now.”
“To help us,” Jack repeated. “Does this mean that you actually know what’s happened to us?”
“Oh, aye; at least I can make an educated guess,” McAllister replied. “You’ve mentioned that Chulan reality manipulator to the lady from UNIT, and then you made inquiries about Special Unit 2, an organization you shouldnae even know about; not to mention that our phone conversation broke up in the middle of the sentence yesterday, and I could never reach you again…”
“Wait, wait,” Jack interrupted the verbose Scotsman. “Do you know something about the artefact that we don’t?”
“I should hope so,” McAllister answered a little indignantly. “It’s an old relic, after all. Torchwood Two used to have it for decades; in fact, it usually stood on my desk. Then Yvonne Hartman visited the Glasgow office, spotted it and ordered it to be taken away to London, for further studies. I heard UNIT found it after the Battle of Canary Wharf. I wanted to have it back, but they wouldnae let me.”
“And you didn’t warn them about it?” Jack demanded.
McAllister shrugged. “They wouldnae listen anyway; they never do, unless it is you. Besides, it was a completely harmless little gizmo. Charming, but harmless.”
“Harmless?” Owen said incredulously and made a sweeping gesture at them all. “You call this harmless?”
“Well it never did anything drastic like this before,” McAllister replied. “I donnae know what you’ve done with it, but you must have screwed up royally.”
“Wait, what is it supposed to do?” Tosh asked.
“Well, it is a reality manipulator,” McAllister said matter-of-factly. “Which means it manipulates reality… to a certain degree. It can change the lights in a room, create mental images for entertainment purposes, emanate harmonic resonances to ease one’s sleep… that sort of thing. I often used it to create a holographic environment that was more pleasant than my actual office, which is, frankly, a rather boring place. Working in the central hall of the Taj Mahal – now that’s more like it. It was never meant to change anything for real, though, I’m fairly sure of it.”
“So what went wrong?” Andy asked.
“I haven’t got the faintest idea,” McAllister admitted.
“The Rift,” Tosh said suddenly. “It must have interacted with Rift energy somehow.”
“The Rift has been quiet for weeks,” Jack reminded her.
“Yup, but a low-level emanation of Rift energy is always there,” Tosh replied. “We can’t know for sure how it influences the working of all those alien artefacts we keep here. That’s why we rarely use them; not unless we can be absolutely sure that they’re safe.”
“There is another possibility,” Ianto turned to their visitor. “Sir Archibald…”
“Archie, lass, just Archie,” the man beamed at him.
“Careful, Archie, he’s normally a guy,” Jack warned him. “And he is taken already.”
“Everyone is taken – or will be – when you’re around, Jack,” McAllister retorted; then he turned back to Ianto. “You had a question, love?”
“I wanted to know how the artefact is properly activated,” Ianto said.
“There’s a switch on the highest point of the arch, right where the pendant is attached,” McAllister explained. “You touch it, just a light touch, and the artefact begins changing shape, until it looks like a desk lamp. From that point on, the thing reacts to human brainwaves, like much of Chulan technology. You have to give it a detailed description to get the results you want, though.”
“So, if someone grabbed the pendant, the artefact wouldn’t have reacted properly, would it?” Ianto concluded and shake his head in exasperation. “Trust Gwen to break something that has worked perfectly for decades.”
“Add the interference of Rift energy, and we have the perfect disaster at our hands,” Tosh added.
“Okay,” Jack said. “We know what happened, how and why. The only remaining question is: how do we reverse the effects? Archie, can you show us how to switch off the damn thing?”
“Sure,” McAllister replied, “but I cannae promise that it will do the trick. As I said, the artefact wasnae meant to make real changes.”
“And yet it apparently has, this time,” Tosh said. McAllister nodded.
“My point exactly. If it’s broken, or in any other way changed, switching it off wouldnae undo anything.”
“Well, we’ll never know until we try it,” Jack said. “Let’s go and give it a try.”
“I can bring the artefact here,” Ianto offered, but McAllister shook his head.
“No, lassie, I wouldnae suggest that. If the thing truly reacts to Rift energy, what, do you image, would it do in close proximity to the Rift manipulator? No, it’s better we go over to… well, wherever it is at the moment.”
“It’s right over here, in the storage room,” Ianto went forth to show the way, Jack and the eccentric Scotsman in tow.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The other three, being left tot heir own devices, exchanged baffled looks.
“And I thought Torchwood bosses couldn’t get any weirder than Jack,” Owen commented with an eyeroll. “By the way, Tosh, where do you know the bloke from? He’s seriously creepy.”
“I find him cute,” Tosh replied mildly. “I met him at a security conference organized by UNIT, almost two years ago. He’s not as old-fashioned as he might look – and he’s one hell of a hacker.”
“He has to be, if he’s managed to hack into our communications with UNIT,” Owen said.
Tosh shook her head. “That would have been the easy part, actually. He’s a Torchwood leader; he automatically has the security clearance to our comm channels. I’m more impressed by the fact that he apparently managed to get the artefact working.”
“Well, he must be versatile if he runs Torchwood Glasgow all on his lonesome,” Andy said; then he looked at Owen. “So, has your DNA analysis led to any useful results, or are we still totally clueless?”
“To be honest, the results only make everything worse,” Owen admitted, re-checking them on his screen, unaware of the fact that Andy was checking out his butt in the jeans that were stretched just a tad too tightly over his now decidedly feminine curves.
Tosh, however, did notice it, and elbowed Andy in the ribs. Hard.
“What do you mean?” she asked, ignoring Andy’s painful attempts to breathe.
Owen scratched his head. It was a familiar gesture, one Tosh had seen hundreds of times, yet strangely mismatched with his current looks.
“Well, no matter how I look at them, he DNA is identical with the samples we had in storage from our former selves,” he explained. “We are still one hundred per cent… well, we, and so is Andy, compared with the personal data you’ve… erm… borrowed from his police file. Even Gwen is one hundred per cent Gwen, unlikely as it might seem.”
“How did you manage to take a sample from her?” Tosh asked in surprise.
“It wasn’t me, it was Teaboy,” Owen admitted. “Apparently, Gwen is not only snoring like a chainsaw, she’s also drooling in her sleep. But yeah, her DNA is completely unchanged, and so is ours.”
“But that’s impossible!” Tosh said. “Even if Archie’s right, and the main purpose of the artefact is to create illusions, we not only look different. Our bodies feel different, too, and are no longer working the way they used to.”
“Thanks for pointing out the glaringly obvious, Tosh,” Owen replied snidely. “It’s not as if I’d been able to sleep at all with these… things in the way whenever I tried to roll onto my stomach,” he made a disgusted gesture, as if he wanted to brush breadcrumbs from his breasts. “Don’t you think I might have noticed that I’m not a guy anymore?”
“You don’t need to be so rude,” Andy reproved him. “She’s only trying to help – to help us all. It’s not easy, for any of us, you know. You aint’t the only bloke with a problem here.”
“You’re an easy one to talk,” Owen muttered. “At least you’ve still got your dick. And you look a lot better than before.”
Andy gave him an offended look. “I’d like you to know that I actually liked my former looks. And I preferred to be a head taller, thank you very much.”
“Yeah, sure,” Owen scowled, but Tosh interrupted him.
“I liked Andy’s former looks, too. He looked cute. But that’s not the issue right now. What do you think is the reason that we have changed, while our DNA hasn’t?”
“I don’t know!” Owen threw his hands in the air in frustration. “I haven’t got a fucking clue, all right? It’s not something I’d ever heard of before.”
“Based on what this Archie bloke said, it shouldn’t have happened,” Andy said thoughtfully. “I must say, for an illusion it’s a bloody convincing one.”
“It must be the Rift,” Tosh insisted. “There simply isn’t any other explanation.”
“The rift… and Gwen,” Owen said grimly. “I hope she remains a gnome, even if the rest of us can be changed back. She’s a menace.”
“I didn’t hear you complain whenever she jumped your bones during the last year,” Tosh replied tersely. “So I suggest you just shut up and suck up, even though now she’s done something you don’t happen to enjoy,” she gave him a dark, sarcastic smile. “I’d also suggest that you take it like a man, but considering your blatant lack of manliness at the moment it would be a moot point, wouldn’t it?”
She paused, letting the impact of her words sink in. If Owen’s suddenly very pale face was any indication, it had. Andy, on the other hand, was staring at her in naked admiration – and that had nothing to do with her current looks.
“Man,” the young constable breathed, “you’re amazing. I knew you were smart, but I never thought you’d have such a sharp bite. I can’t wait for you to become a girl again.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
In the meantime, Archie McAllister was examining the alien ‘desk lamp’ carefully.
“Is this what it’s supposed to look like when activated?” Jack asked.
McAllister nodded. “Aye. The golden gleam in the cartouches indicates that it’s in ready mode. If the blue light in the upper part begins to fluctuate, it means that the dream lamp is actively working.”
“Dream lamp?” Ianto echoed with interest. He had a thing for cool names. McAllister shrugged.
“That’s what I used to call it. Wasnae big on catalogue numbers, ever. Besides, it’s what it does – makes your dreams come true… for a little while anyway.”
“Catchy,” Ianto admitted. “However, I can’t remember ever having dreamt about becoming a blonde bimbo.”
“You could have done worse,” Jack commented, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
McAllister gave him a tired look. “Jack. Can you stop the mating dance for a moment? I’m trying to concentrate here; see if I can connect with the lamp again.”
“Sure,” Jack tried to look contrite. “Go on. Chulan technology is supposed to be semi-sentient, after all.”
“Aye, but only the more sophisticated pieces; the ones equipped with artificial intelligence,” Archie replied. “The rest of it is simply adjusted to react to human brainwaves… well, to sentient brainwaves in general.”
“That would explain how Gwen’s managed to break it,” Ianto murmured, audible only for Jack’s ears. Jack rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin.
“Both user and tech need a certain time to accommodate,” McAllister continued, unaware of the little interlude. “To become fully compatible.”
“Yeah,” Jack nodded. “It was like that with my ship, too. Even though it had an artificial intelligence installed in the board computer.”
“Well, the people of Chula aren’t entirely humanoid, so I’m told,” McAllister shrugged. “So, it’s not surprising that their tech needs to get used to work for other species. However,” and he was laying his hands on the upper part of the artefact now, “this seems to store human brainwave patterns somehow, so in theory, the lamp should be able to recognise me.”
He closed his eyes and concentrated. The blue light within the artefact pulsed for a moment, and the thing emanated a low, melodious hum, as if greeting him. After a few short moments, though, the light show collapsed unto itself, and the inside of the ‘lamp’ suddenly turned to a dull grey.
McAllister opened his eyes, his expression that of sorrow and loss.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Whatever your co-worker has done with the lamp, it’s broken now. It has just spent the last spark of its stored energy. There’s nothing I can do.” He shook his head. “And it was such a bonny little thing.”
“Forget the lamp, what about us?” Jack asked. “Does this mean we’re gonna remain in these bodies for the rest of our lives?”
“I’m sorry, Jack, I truly am,” McAllister replied. “I so hoped I can make the lamp reverse whatever it’s done to you, and would it be still a-working, I might even have succeeded. But I cannae work with a broken tool, and I havnae got a clue how to fix it.”
“Fantastic, just fucking fantastic!” Jack growled.
“Jack?” Ianto said quietly. “I think you'll have to call in a really big favour this time.”
Jack looked at him with a clueless frown.
“I mean,” Ianto clarified, “that we perhaps need the help of a doctor… the right kind of Doctor, as you like to phrase it.”
For a moment, Jack just stared at him in a stunned silence. Then he broke into a huge, ear to ear grin, fished his cell phone out of the pocket of his suit jacket and hit the speed dial.
“Martha? Listen to me; I need you to make another phone call on my behalf… Yeah, a very specific phone call.”
Part 07: Screw It All, We Need A Doctor Here!
Author: Soledad
Fandom: Torchwood/Special Unit 2 x-over, with a guest appearance of the Tenth Doctor.
Category: Heavy-duty Gwen bashing and a great deal of silliness.
Rating: 14+ for this chapter, for language.
Genre: Crackfic, with gender bending, body swap, whatever – the whole nine miles.
Series: none
Timeframe: indefinite. Perhaps “Sleepers”, from Series 2 for Torchwood, but not necessarily.
Summary: Once again, Gwen fumbles around with something she was told not to touch. The consequences are…unusual.
Disclaimer: the usual: don’t own, don’t sue! Everything belongs to RTD and BBC - and UPN, respectively.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
PART SIX: A STRANGE LITTLE MAN
Author’s notes:
And this was where my fantasy ran free with me… so sorry. I'm afraid the working of the artefact has nothing to do with science, not even with fictional science, but that's the best I could come up with.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ianto watched the unfamiliar man wearing a kilt get out of his convertible, close the door and march towards the invisible lift with a confidence that revealed that he knew exactly what he was looking for.
“You know the man, Jack?” he asked. Jack nodded.
“Oh, yeah. That’s the infamous Archie McAllister, the head of Torchwood Two.”
“The one you always call a strange little man?” Owen studied the newcomer as it stepped onto the stone slab of the lift. “Well, he does look a bit strange, but he isn’t that little, actually. What’s he doing here?”
“I wish I knew,” Jack muttered. “Usually, it takes a planetwide crisis to get him out of his den in Glasgow.”
“Are we having a planetwide crisis?” Ianto inquired with suddenly spiking curiosity.
“Not that I’d know of,” Jack replied. “Of course, we’ve been a little preoccupied with our… erm… domestic problems here.”
“That’s as good a word for it as any,” Ianto agreed amiably, and they watched the invisible lift descend with the unexpected visitor.
The leader of the Glasgow branch – if one could use such a lofty title for someone who was running an insignificant little outpost on his own – was indeed by no means a little man. Not as tall as Jack or Ianto originally had been, of course, but slightly over average height all the same, and not bad-looking at all. With his collar-length brow hair, pale blue eyes and a face that vaguely resembled of a middle-aged Paul McCartney, he had little to nothing in common with his presumably fierce ancestors of the Scottish Highlands, despite the kilt that he was wearing. In truth, he looked rather like a somewhat distracted college professor. He could be in his early forties, tops.
He stepped off the invisible lift and looked around in the Hub with interest. The completely unfamiliar people staring at him didn’t seem to bother him a bit.
“Greetings,” he said with a slight Scottish accent. “I’m Sir Archibald McAllister, leader of Torchwood Two. Can you tell me where I can find Captain Jack Harkness?”
At the same moment, the cog door rolled to the side and Tosh came in, with Andy in tow, both wearing somewhat ill-fitting clothes. Upon seeing the Torchwood Two leader, Tosh’ face lit up in delight like a Christmas tree.
“Archie!” she squealed, hurrying to the visitor with open arms. “What are you doing here?”
In the last moment she stopped, though, and blinked sheepishly. “Oh. Of course you wouldn’t recognise me like this.”
McAllister looked at her questioningly for a moment; then he seemed to realise what must have happened. “Toshiko? Is that you?”
“Afraid so,” Tosh replied, a little surprised by his accurate guess.
“Oh, my,” McAllister frowned. “Have you messed around with that Chulan reality manipulator UNIT handed over to you a couple of weeks ago?”
The collective jaws of the Torchwood Three gang hit the floor simultaneously.
“What on Earth…” Jack began, but McAllister waved impatiently.
“Please, Jack… it is Jack, isn’t it?” Jack nodded, and McAllister continued. “Yeah, thought so. The looks have changed, but not the attitude. Anyway, I might be eccentric in your eyes, but I’m not an idiot, you know. Plus, I always monitor any communications between you and UNIT, so I’m fairly well informed all the time.”
“What?” Owen asked, really annoyed now. “You’ve been spying on us? Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Not really,” McAllister admitted. “You can’t imagine how boring Glasgow can be, in terms of alien infestation. In fact, the last alien sighted, back in the 1970s, turned out to be a really drunk hippie on a trip, so I have to occupy myself somehow. My cats only need so much attention, and one can’t spend one’s whole time in the gym or in the library. You should be grateful though; if I hadnae monitored your communications, I couldnae be here to help you now.”
“To help us,” Jack repeated. “Does this mean that you actually know what’s happened to us?”
“Oh, aye; at least I can make an educated guess,” McAllister replied. “You’ve mentioned that Chulan reality manipulator to the lady from UNIT, and then you made inquiries about Special Unit 2, an organization you shouldnae even know about; not to mention that our phone conversation broke up in the middle of the sentence yesterday, and I could never reach you again…”
“Wait, wait,” Jack interrupted the verbose Scotsman. “Do you know something about the artefact that we don’t?”
“I should hope so,” McAllister answered a little indignantly. “It’s an old relic, after all. Torchwood Two used to have it for decades; in fact, it usually stood on my desk. Then Yvonne Hartman visited the Glasgow office, spotted it and ordered it to be taken away to London, for further studies. I heard UNIT found it after the Battle of Canary Wharf. I wanted to have it back, but they wouldnae let me.”
“And you didn’t warn them about it?” Jack demanded.
McAllister shrugged. “They wouldnae listen anyway; they never do, unless it is you. Besides, it was a completely harmless little gizmo. Charming, but harmless.”
“Harmless?” Owen said incredulously and made a sweeping gesture at them all. “You call this harmless?”
“Well it never did anything drastic like this before,” McAllister replied. “I donnae know what you’ve done with it, but you must have screwed up royally.”
“Wait, what is it supposed to do?” Tosh asked.
“Well, it is a reality manipulator,” McAllister said matter-of-factly. “Which means it manipulates reality… to a certain degree. It can change the lights in a room, create mental images for entertainment purposes, emanate harmonic resonances to ease one’s sleep… that sort of thing. I often used it to create a holographic environment that was more pleasant than my actual office, which is, frankly, a rather boring place. Working in the central hall of the Taj Mahal – now that’s more like it. It was never meant to change anything for real, though, I’m fairly sure of it.”
“So what went wrong?” Andy asked.
“I haven’t got the faintest idea,” McAllister admitted.
“The Rift,” Tosh said suddenly. “It must have interacted with Rift energy somehow.”
“The Rift has been quiet for weeks,” Jack reminded her.
“Yup, but a low-level emanation of Rift energy is always there,” Tosh replied. “We can’t know for sure how it influences the working of all those alien artefacts we keep here. That’s why we rarely use them; not unless we can be absolutely sure that they’re safe.”
“There is another possibility,” Ianto turned to their visitor. “Sir Archibald…”
“Archie, lass, just Archie,” the man beamed at him.
“Careful, Archie, he’s normally a guy,” Jack warned him. “And he is taken already.”
“Everyone is taken – or will be – when you’re around, Jack,” McAllister retorted; then he turned back to Ianto. “You had a question, love?”
“I wanted to know how the artefact is properly activated,” Ianto said.
“There’s a switch on the highest point of the arch, right where the pendant is attached,” McAllister explained. “You touch it, just a light touch, and the artefact begins changing shape, until it looks like a desk lamp. From that point on, the thing reacts to human brainwaves, like much of Chulan technology. You have to give it a detailed description to get the results you want, though.”
“So, if someone grabbed the pendant, the artefact wouldn’t have reacted properly, would it?” Ianto concluded and shake his head in exasperation. “Trust Gwen to break something that has worked perfectly for decades.”
“Add the interference of Rift energy, and we have the perfect disaster at our hands,” Tosh added.
“Okay,” Jack said. “We know what happened, how and why. The only remaining question is: how do we reverse the effects? Archie, can you show us how to switch off the damn thing?”
“Sure,” McAllister replied, “but I cannae promise that it will do the trick. As I said, the artefact wasnae meant to make real changes.”
“And yet it apparently has, this time,” Tosh said. McAllister nodded.
“My point exactly. If it’s broken, or in any other way changed, switching it off wouldnae undo anything.”
“Well, we’ll never know until we try it,” Jack said. “Let’s go and give it a try.”
“I can bring the artefact here,” Ianto offered, but McAllister shook his head.
“No, lassie, I wouldnae suggest that. If the thing truly reacts to Rift energy, what, do you image, would it do in close proximity to the Rift manipulator? No, it’s better we go over to… well, wherever it is at the moment.”
“It’s right over here, in the storage room,” Ianto went forth to show the way, Jack and the eccentric Scotsman in tow.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The other three, being left tot heir own devices, exchanged baffled looks.
“And I thought Torchwood bosses couldn’t get any weirder than Jack,” Owen commented with an eyeroll. “By the way, Tosh, where do you know the bloke from? He’s seriously creepy.”
“I find him cute,” Tosh replied mildly. “I met him at a security conference organized by UNIT, almost two years ago. He’s not as old-fashioned as he might look – and he’s one hell of a hacker.”
“He has to be, if he’s managed to hack into our communications with UNIT,” Owen said.
Tosh shook her head. “That would have been the easy part, actually. He’s a Torchwood leader; he automatically has the security clearance to our comm channels. I’m more impressed by the fact that he apparently managed to get the artefact working.”
“Well, he must be versatile if he runs Torchwood Glasgow all on his lonesome,” Andy said; then he looked at Owen. “So, has your DNA analysis led to any useful results, or are we still totally clueless?”
“To be honest, the results only make everything worse,” Owen admitted, re-checking them on his screen, unaware of the fact that Andy was checking out his butt in the jeans that were stretched just a tad too tightly over his now decidedly feminine curves.
Tosh, however, did notice it, and elbowed Andy in the ribs. Hard.
“What do you mean?” she asked, ignoring Andy’s painful attempts to breathe.
Owen scratched his head. It was a familiar gesture, one Tosh had seen hundreds of times, yet strangely mismatched with his current looks.
“Well, no matter how I look at them, he DNA is identical with the samples we had in storage from our former selves,” he explained. “We are still one hundred per cent… well, we, and so is Andy, compared with the personal data you’ve… erm… borrowed from his police file. Even Gwen is one hundred per cent Gwen, unlikely as it might seem.”
“How did you manage to take a sample from her?” Tosh asked in surprise.
“It wasn’t me, it was Teaboy,” Owen admitted. “Apparently, Gwen is not only snoring like a chainsaw, she’s also drooling in her sleep. But yeah, her DNA is completely unchanged, and so is ours.”
“But that’s impossible!” Tosh said. “Even if Archie’s right, and the main purpose of the artefact is to create illusions, we not only look different. Our bodies feel different, too, and are no longer working the way they used to.”
“Thanks for pointing out the glaringly obvious, Tosh,” Owen replied snidely. “It’s not as if I’d been able to sleep at all with these… things in the way whenever I tried to roll onto my stomach,” he made a disgusted gesture, as if he wanted to brush breadcrumbs from his breasts. “Don’t you think I might have noticed that I’m not a guy anymore?”
“You don’t need to be so rude,” Andy reproved him. “She’s only trying to help – to help us all. It’s not easy, for any of us, you know. You aint’t the only bloke with a problem here.”
“You’re an easy one to talk,” Owen muttered. “At least you’ve still got your dick. And you look a lot better than before.”
Andy gave him an offended look. “I’d like you to know that I actually liked my former looks. And I preferred to be a head taller, thank you very much.”
“Yeah, sure,” Owen scowled, but Tosh interrupted him.
“I liked Andy’s former looks, too. He looked cute. But that’s not the issue right now. What do you think is the reason that we have changed, while our DNA hasn’t?”
“I don’t know!” Owen threw his hands in the air in frustration. “I haven’t got a fucking clue, all right? It’s not something I’d ever heard of before.”
“Based on what this Archie bloke said, it shouldn’t have happened,” Andy said thoughtfully. “I must say, for an illusion it’s a bloody convincing one.”
“It must be the Rift,” Tosh insisted. “There simply isn’t any other explanation.”
“The rift… and Gwen,” Owen said grimly. “I hope she remains a gnome, even if the rest of us can be changed back. She’s a menace.”
“I didn’t hear you complain whenever she jumped your bones during the last year,” Tosh replied tersely. “So I suggest you just shut up and suck up, even though now she’s done something you don’t happen to enjoy,” she gave him a dark, sarcastic smile. “I’d also suggest that you take it like a man, but considering your blatant lack of manliness at the moment it would be a moot point, wouldn’t it?”
She paused, letting the impact of her words sink in. If Owen’s suddenly very pale face was any indication, it had. Andy, on the other hand, was staring at her in naked admiration – and that had nothing to do with her current looks.
“Man,” the young constable breathed, “you’re amazing. I knew you were smart, but I never thought you’d have such a sharp bite. I can’t wait for you to become a girl again.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
In the meantime, Archie McAllister was examining the alien ‘desk lamp’ carefully.
“Is this what it’s supposed to look like when activated?” Jack asked.
McAllister nodded. “Aye. The golden gleam in the cartouches indicates that it’s in ready mode. If the blue light in the upper part begins to fluctuate, it means that the dream lamp is actively working.”
“Dream lamp?” Ianto echoed with interest. He had a thing for cool names. McAllister shrugged.
“That’s what I used to call it. Wasnae big on catalogue numbers, ever. Besides, it’s what it does – makes your dreams come true… for a little while anyway.”
“Catchy,” Ianto admitted. “However, I can’t remember ever having dreamt about becoming a blonde bimbo.”
“You could have done worse,” Jack commented, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
McAllister gave him a tired look. “Jack. Can you stop the mating dance for a moment? I’m trying to concentrate here; see if I can connect with the lamp again.”
“Sure,” Jack tried to look contrite. “Go on. Chulan technology is supposed to be semi-sentient, after all.”
“Aye, but only the more sophisticated pieces; the ones equipped with artificial intelligence,” Archie replied. “The rest of it is simply adjusted to react to human brainwaves… well, to sentient brainwaves in general.”
“That would explain how Gwen’s managed to break it,” Ianto murmured, audible only for Jack’s ears. Jack rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin.
“Both user and tech need a certain time to accommodate,” McAllister continued, unaware of the little interlude. “To become fully compatible.”
“Yeah,” Jack nodded. “It was like that with my ship, too. Even though it had an artificial intelligence installed in the board computer.”
“Well, the people of Chula aren’t entirely humanoid, so I’m told,” McAllister shrugged. “So, it’s not surprising that their tech needs to get used to work for other species. However,” and he was laying his hands on the upper part of the artefact now, “this seems to store human brainwave patterns somehow, so in theory, the lamp should be able to recognise me.”
He closed his eyes and concentrated. The blue light within the artefact pulsed for a moment, and the thing emanated a low, melodious hum, as if greeting him. After a few short moments, though, the light show collapsed unto itself, and the inside of the ‘lamp’ suddenly turned to a dull grey.
McAllister opened his eyes, his expression that of sorrow and loss.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Whatever your co-worker has done with the lamp, it’s broken now. It has just spent the last spark of its stored energy. There’s nothing I can do.” He shook his head. “And it was such a bonny little thing.”
“Forget the lamp, what about us?” Jack asked. “Does this mean we’re gonna remain in these bodies for the rest of our lives?”
“I’m sorry, Jack, I truly am,” McAllister replied. “I so hoped I can make the lamp reverse whatever it’s done to you, and would it be still a-working, I might even have succeeded. But I cannae work with a broken tool, and I havnae got a clue how to fix it.”
“Fantastic, just fucking fantastic!” Jack growled.
“Jack?” Ianto said quietly. “I think you'll have to call in a really big favour this time.”
Jack looked at him with a clueless frown.
“I mean,” Ianto clarified, “that we perhaps need the help of a doctor… the right kind of Doctor, as you like to phrase it.”
For a moment, Jack just stared at him in a stunned silence. Then he broke into a huge, ear to ear grin, fished his cell phone out of the pocket of his suit jacket and hit the speed dial.
“Martha? Listen to me; I need you to make another phone call on my behalf… Yeah, a very specific phone call.”
Part 07: Screw It All, We Need A Doctor Here!
