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Author's Note: Right - as per usual, I apologise in advance for my no doubt abhorable spelling. I'm sorry! Comments are lovely, and you KNOW you want to...

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It was a small room; not cramped, but cosy…at least it would be, with some work. A bank of windows covered the wall opposite the door, and a sizeable oak desk was standing in front of it, facing away from the natural light. A single lamp sat on the extreme right of the desk with an office phone underneath it, and a computer monitor was on the left. There was a swivelling office chair facing Jack across the desk, and another, less prestigious visitor’s chair was set up opposite. The bare walls were an ugly pale yellow colour, and there were several empty shelves on each one. Jack resolved to remedy that shortly.

Crossing to the windows, Jack peered out at the view that he was going to graced with for the next couple of years, providing everything went well. Actually, he thought as he admired the pleasant outlook on the College Green, and further out, a glimpse of the bay – he could become quite comfortable in that office. Yes, it needed a good dose of personality, but if there was anything that Jack Harkness could not be accused of lacking, it was personality.

He set his briefcase down on the desktop and while he waited for the computer to fire up he unfolded the staff list the Doctor had given him.



Toshiko Sato – Intake Manager / Junior Archivist

Susan Costello – University Distribution Manager

Adam Smith – Collections Manager

Ianto Jones – Head Archivist

It was a small group, but Jack liked that. After years in the United States Air Force perpetually surrounded by loud, obnoxious people, working with a small team in an institution that prided itself on volume control was going to be a very welcome change indeed.

The Air Force. Bloody Air Farce was more like it.

Jack couldn’t help but shake his head when he thought of it. When he had joined up as a fresh-faced twenty five year old college graduate, never in a thousand years had he ever imagined that, as a decorated pilot and Captain teetering on the edge of promotion, he would get kicked out of the USAF with a dishonourable discharge.

Bloody “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” policy.

Jack kicked one of the desk legs viciously and immediately thought better of it when the shooting pains came zooming up his leg. The desk remained completely unfazed and unmarked, and Jack was caught between being eternally grateful for good craftsmanship (it wouldn’t do to break furniture on his first day) and eternally pissed off at the forest Gods for making wood so buggering hard.

He couldn’t help but get angry when he thought of it though. Ten years, TEN YEARS of his life he had wasted with the USAF. Ten years of getting verbally abused every day, eating God-awful food, and gruelling training. And for what? An official discharge and a bus ticket back to San Francisco, his commanding officer telling him that he was damn lucky he wasn’t getting the Court Martial.

It wasn’t even as though he’d done anything wrong! He could blame his getting kicked out on John and his less-than-stellar ability to pick secluded areas, but that would just a cop-out. Neither of them had hurt anyone, or broken any laws, and now he was in Wales and John was in a rehab centre in ‘Cisco.

They had kissed; or rather they had been caught in the act. They had kissed many times before that, done some other things as well, and they would have been fine so long as the twat hadn’t walked in.

They had been alone in the dorms (John had sworn up and down that everybody else would be out training) and yes, they had been kissing and touching a bit, but nothing obscene. Then that complete idiot Jameson had strolled on in, whistling casually, seen them, and turned tail to tell on them to their commanding officer.

John – more precisely Captain John Hart – was not actually an American, but an English volunteer, so he hadn’t been discharged as such, he’d just been asked politely (forcefully) to get the hell off of base so he wouldn’t offend anyone else. Jack had been kicked out without a second thought. Good thing he had a degree or he’d have been out on the street.

Speaking of nationality, Jack was also not American, at least not totally. He was born in London, and had lived there until he was eight and his family relocated to Northern California. His sister Donna had stayed at boarding school in London, only coming back for summer vacations. Jack lived in California full time. It was funny how, though they were twins, people always assumed they were only friends because of their radically different accents and dissimilar looks.

At any rate, because of his somewhat blurry nationality, Jack had only got into the Air Force after a few strings had been pulled by his father’s friends, and a few rules overlooked. When he had gotten kicked out he had disgraced the family’s friends, because naturally with such a discharge came a reason. Many people were disgusted with him – Jack had never told anyone he was bisexual previously (and thirty five years had been a long time to keep a secret) – but his parents and Donna were loving and supportive, and they helped him get his new job; the one that he was steadfastly ignoring as he rummaged through his thoughts.

Sighing, Jack pulled himself out of his reverie and looked up just as a knock came at the door of his new office.

“Come in,” he called casually and leaned back in the chair, pleased when it reclined just the right amount.

The door opened, and a pretty Japanese woman poked her head in. Spotting Jack, she straightened up and pushed the door the full way open. He stood up and offered her his hand to shake when she advanced on his desk.

“Toshiko Sato, Sir,” she said by way of introduction as she shook his hand. She had a firm confident handshake, and Jack instantly liked her. “You’re Mr. Harkness, I take it?”

“In the flesh,” he confirmed. “You’re the first person I’ve met today, Miss Sato. Save of course for Doctor Smith.”

Toshiko laughed.

“Oh, you’ve met the Doctor already have you? Did he scare you? He doesn’t mean to come on quite so strong I think, but he can’t help it.”

Jack joined in the laughter.

“You call him the Doctor, too? Small world. No, he didn’t scare me, just gave me a new sort of morning wake up.”

“He does tend to do that. Well, Sir –”

“No, please,” Jack interrupted, hands in the air, “I’m Jack, Miss Sato.”

“Then I’m Tosh,” she countered. “And anyway, I’d better get to work. You honestly wouldn’t believe the contributions we’ve been getting lately. I have mountains to put into the system. It was nice finally meeting you, Jack. The Doctor has been cheerfully blabbering about your impending arrival ever since you were hired. If you need me, I’ll be in the intake room.”

Jack smiled at her.

“Duly noted, Tosh. Now please, by all means make a dent in that intake. I don’t need to be fired my first day in for encouraging laziness in my staff.”

Tosh returned his smile, and then slipped from the room, shutting the door gently behind her.

Ten minutes later, the next member of Jack’s new team knocked on the door. And once again, Jack yelled for them to come right on in.

The man who walked in was slightly shorter than Jack, with light brown, shoulder length hair, and an infectious grin that rivalled Jack’s own.

“Adam Smith, Collections,” he introduced himself cheerfully, and shook Jack’s offered hand.

“Not related to Doctor Smith, are you?” Jack asked.

“Nope, thank God.” Adam caught Jack’s look and laughed. “I mean that in the best possible way, of course. It’s just that…well…” he looked around mock conspiratorially, “he’s a bit of a nutter, isn’t he?”

This time it was Jack’s turn to laugh.

“I’m glad to find out I’m not the only one who thinks he’s a bit eccentric. At first I thought all British people were like that, and I was the weird one. It would certainly explain my sister.”

Adam shook his head.

“Nope. The Doctor is an enigma onto himself. Which reminds me, I was supposed to be here introducing myself, not making remarks about my higher-ups.”

Jack waved a hand and sat back down at his desk.

“Oh, don’t worry. I looked the lot of you up while I was waiting. Your credentials are better than mine.” He laughed. “Anyway, I won’t keep you from your work. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to…uh, beep, I guess. I’ll be here comparing paint swatches on what colour to paint this God-forsaken little cube all day.”

Adam smiled.

“I know a dismissal when I hear one. It was good meeting you, sir.”

“Jack,” Jack corrected him. “Please, call me Jack. I hate ‘sir’; it makes me sound like a guest at a snobby restaurant.”

“Well, then, good meeting you, Jack.”

“Same to you, Adam,” Jack chanced, and received a smile in return. Then Adam was gone as well, the door clicking shut behind him. Two down, two to go.

He didn’t have to wait long.