What goes on at almost 3 am.

OK. It's almost 3 am. And I am still up. Would love to sleep, and shall attempt to. Alas, I fear it will be very inhospitable of me, as I am entertaining a mouse in my room.It is very bad manners for the hostess to nod off on her guests. Any one want to send over a cat to keep the mouse company?

Last night...This morning!

I should NOT be allowed near a communications device. I am drunk , and exhausted. I just wanted to say there was a really GOOD party, and I helped it happen. Yeah, me.
XOXOXO Laters!

When Enough is Enough

This is inspired by MD, and some people's reactions to the new series. Spoilers! Don't read until AFTER you've seen Categories of Life! This is dedicated to Solsbury Girl.

NC 17,
Characters: A confused broken soul, a dastardly villain, 2 kind rescuers.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, none of this is real, just the blithering of a poor sad soul.


He was tied to the metal office chair with some kind of bunggie cord and duct tape arrangement. He had struggled repeatedly to try and wriggle free, but to no avail. His feet and legs were firmly secured to the chair legs as well. He couldn't just...stand and scoot away. He was a helpless, terrified prisoner, enduring the most unspeakable torture imaginable.

The little warehouse had obviously been long abandoned. There was evidence of rat, mouse and cockroach invasions. The place stank of molds, dampness and rotting cardboard. There was no longer any electrical hook up. His torturer had brought some portable spot lights run by batteries. She tottered back and forth, waving a cane and the notebooks she was reading aloud from. Oh, God...those notebooks.

The notebooks were full of the most awful drivel ever spewed out by an unbalanced mind. What the captive found the most agonizing was the fact that, here and there amidst the dreck there was the odd, occasional gem. A line, a plot twist, a scene description, sometimes a bit of dialogue. All of it was fanfic, all about the show his own infernal mind had given birth to. And what gave him bone deep agony was that even though this crazed woman's work was an amateurish babble, there were these little perfect jewels strewn throughout, that he himself, a writer of great acclaim, had never come up with.

As the addled creature finished reading a page, she would tear it out of the book and shove it in her captive's mouth, thereby effectively muffling his pleas for help and mercy. His eyes, like big hysterical boiled stones, bugged out at her behind askew glasses. Somehow during his abduction and abuse he had managed to retain them, and had a clear view of his situation. Not that it helped.

His abductor finally paused in her recitation, and tossed her book aside. Quivering, she waddled closer to the man in the chair. He could see by the cold light of the spotlights that she was over weight, short and shabbily dressed. Her hair was a grizzled mess of mousy brown and frizzed gray. It hadn't been properly cut or styled in....years? He knew her own glasses were long past due for replacement; they clung to her face crookedly, and had to be thrust back up her nose repeatedly. She clung to a sturdy cane ; movement obviously pained her joints. How had she been able to bring him to the ground? He was much bigger and stronger...ah, she was waving about a taser.

Tears were pouring down her pale saggy middle aged face. "Why?", she begged. "Why do you have to kill all my friends? What have I ever done to you?" She sobbed, ducking her head as she wept brokenly. " Taking Tosh and Owen from me wasn't enough! No, you had to take MY IANTO!!" The anguished wail was directed upwards towards the roof, as she threw her head back and moaned in fresh grief.

The man tried to explain about ratings, market shares, actor salary caps and production costs, but gagged as he was his lecture was a garble. Just as well; the mad woman was in no mood to listen to his lame excuses.

She waddled back and forth, shaking her head and mumbling. She stopped and thrust the taser out at him. " And what have you done to poor Jack? He is half the man he was...he's so fragile and lonely without his Ianto! That Esther girl is so kind and caring with him, just like Tosh.." She pushed her tear dripping face into his personal space, " I'll bet you have something HORRIBLE planned for her, don't you!", she snarled. Her jowls wobbled with the force of her emotions.

He leaned back as far as he could, sniveling in fright. This....hysterical woman...could do anything to him and no one would ever know. He was at the complete mercy of a demented aging fangirl.

"And why is Rex so mean? You let him say terrible things about Torchwood! Tosh, Owen and Ianto died saving the world! They're HEROES! This CIA jerk talks about them as if they were fumbling ineffectual GITS!" She stopped in her tracks, tottered back to her captive. "Torchwood has been there for CENTURIES! Queen Victoria started it!" she shrieked. "Torchwood has faced off against monsters and aliens for centuries, that's why we're all still here!"

The writer shuddered in his bunggie cords. Oh, lord, she was well and truly delusional. How was he going to get out of this alive? How was he going to get out of this in time for the cocktail party his L.A. agency was throwing for him tonight? All the right people would be there....there would be the best little noshies from the finest catering firms, lovely vodka and gin cocktails, all the beautiful people in pretty party clothes and jewelry...Heaven! Squeezing his weeping eyes shut he clung to his dream.

"What have you done with Martha and Mickey? Where is UNIT? They should be all over this! You've done something dreadful to them as well, haven't you? They wouldn't desert Jack and Gwen like this! And you're going to have poor Gwen's Dad thrown into the oven, aren't you? You can't wait to make her suffer! Well, I won't let you! I'll stop you, you can't torture and kill any more of my friends!" She leered horribly at him, holding out the taser. "This was Ianto's taser..." She stroked the little instrument, turning it on so that the current jumped and spat between the prongs.

The man struggled futilely, trying to hop the chair back away from the evil cackling hag. Who would save him? He was doomed, DOOMED! She was moving closer, sneering and gabbling, playfully darting the frizzling taser around his body. He screamed into the wad of wet paper crammed into his mouth, his eyes rolled back in his head....Was there no escape, no hope? Dear God, was there LIMO service in Heaven?

Just then, behind the capering crone's back, a door thudded open. Two figures strutted in. The trapped man squealed in joyous relief.

The pair came towards them with commanding strides. The woman was tall, slim and quite beautiful. Her skin was the colour of rich milk chocolate, her facial bones were delicate and refined. Her eyes were large and glowed with a luminous peace and grace. Her walk covered the ground effortlessly, as she had strode around the world.

The young man with her also had darker skin, his was the colour of perfectly blended coffee and cream. Warm humour sparkled in his eyes. A mischievous grin quirked his cheeks. He walked to the right and just behind his woman friend; the place of a solid right hand man and sergeant.

They were both dressed casually in fatigue pants and tshirts. They never knew when they would be called upon to fight weevils or alien despots, it was always a good idea to be prepared.

The demented fangirl had seen and recognized the pair. "Oh, it's you!", she cried out joyfully. She dropped the spitting taser which immediately shocked the man in the chair. He shrieked and toppled the chair backwards and mercifully blacked out. He also immediately wet himself.

The woman gathered the trembling fangirl in her arms. " Oh, you poor dear! I bet your joints are hurting you, aren't they? What are you doing in this smelly damp place?" She stroked the grizzled gray head resting on her shoulder. "I've got some aspirin in the van, we'll just get you out of this nasty place." The tall young woman put an elegant hand on the older woman's cheek. "I bet your poor head is aching too, isn't it? Come with us, let's go out to the van, alright? We've got some nice hot tea in the thermos, how's that? I bet you've caught a chill here, haven't you?" So saying, the two young people gently led the tottering woman outside.

They carefully helped the weakening woman into the back of their van, mindful of her painful joints and exhaustion. Tea and aspirin were administered, as was a good deal of sympathy and kindness. They covered her drowsing body in a car blanket to help her worn out bones stay warm. They were going to take her to an island that they knew of, populated by other sad broken people who had been ruthless brutalized by the monster still in the warehouse.

As one, the two heroes turned back to the warehouse. They had saved the victim, there was still her torturer to be dealt with.

They stood over the heap of drooling blacked out man and chair. The young woman crinkled a perfect forehead and wrinkled up a pert lovely nose. " He SMELLS! How are we going to get him back to the van?" Her plump upper lip curled up in a sneer of disgust.

Her partner snorted. " We'll just grab the chair legs and drag him out." He put his hands on his hips, shook his head. " What a useless wanker. No one to blame but himself. Look, should we take that stuff out of his mouth?"

The young woman shook her head, pulling on a chair leg. "No,I don't want him coming to and bothering her. She's only just got to sleep, poor thing. I've got a plastic tarp we can wrap him in so he doesn't mess all over the back."

They dragged the toppled chair and it's stinky contents towards the door. The young man said, "We'll just dump him at the nearest street corner where there's people. Then we'll take her to Flat Holm."

The young woman gave him a bewitching smile. "Good plan."



I saw a picture in Toronto's Metro newspaper yesterday, it was taken in Joplin. Ashley Stephens went with a friend to help find some of the friend's possessions in the remains of the house the friend had been sharing with another "missing" friend.

The picture shows Ashley holding and comforting the rescued ferret that belonged to the "missing" housemate. Behind her is the smashed up broken tooth pick remains of the home.

Even though Ashley most likely has lost her home and all her belongings, and probably has "missing" friends, she some how found it in her heart to offer comfort and support to a little creature whose whole world has been ripped away. That is the ultimate definition of compassion.

Let's take a page from Ashley's book and try to be a bit nicer to others, even when we are not feeling like it. Ashley should be our role model.



MY God...Watching "Secrets of the Dead" show. Two men managed to escape from Aushwitz, to carry word about the atrocities. But when after a harrowing escape to the Slovakian Jewish Council with the truth of the genocide no one wanted to believe them. They had escaped hoping to keep the Hungarian Jews from being exterminated, but the report they made was suppressed. Hundreds of thousands of Hungarian Jews died. It was only when British intelligence got wind of the report and decided to get huffy about the genocide.
Oh, Ye Gods people, the horrible twists of fate!

Can't trust life, its ownself

People, we have to pull it together here! Just found out that Spagtscully had to take a chunk of time off becuz of bipolar hurtfullness. Are we going to let a fellow "Woody" down? NO! We are going to rally round and offer big scoopinesses of support!

It has not escaped this reporter's notice that many of us are going through certain awefullnesses. Life can be a dirty hairlipped dog. Yes, it can! Best not turn yer back on it, it cain't hardly be trusted. I think we should all make a habit of checking in with each other, just to see if we're alright. I know it has helped me enormously to reach out to y'all when I need some cheer.

It worries me that I haven't seen Otrame on the nets. How is she, does anyone know? I am over here in Toronto Canada, and can't just....swan in. Or such like.

I don't mean to be nosy, I just care, darn it!

You know, it annoys me no end that we all can't get together in a coffee shop somewhere and just...kvetch, or kanooddle or chew the fat. Sigh.

Starting Over

Title: Starting Over
Author: chironsgirl
Rating: PG, I guess. Deals with grief
Spoilers: None, really. Set in 6oth century, after "Jack" has returned from self imposed exile to keep from tripping over his Time Agency self. Torchwood has become a very powerful agency that looks after colony worlds and diplomacy around the edges of other species' territories.
Disclaimer: TW and Jack are not mine. I would have been much nicer to them if they were. "Coop" came to me when I was contemplating how people dealt with grief.
A/N This is a one off, but I do intend on trying to continue with Family Members and of course, my Happy Pants verse.

The Torchwood staff had been kindness itself. Since the accident had occured while her team had been doing freelance work for them, the Torchwood legal department had made sure that Cooper retained the price the station was paid for the scrapped hulk that had been her home and source of income. They also very firmly repelled the blood relations of her dead crewmates, who mstakenly believed that they had any rights to profits that were accrued from the "Nimravid"s last freight run. Or any rights they felt to those deceased crewmates's savings or property. As many of these relations had had almost no communication with this deceased crew for quite sometime, they were shocked and dismayed to discover the clause that the six crewmates had added to their ship's charter; that since they had grown up together in fostered care due to their distant relations lack of concern for them, they would legally become each other's next of kin. They would all inherit from each other, all their property would stay in "Nimravid" hands until the last of the six died, at which point anything left would go to charity.

Of course most of this drama unfolded while Cooper was in a medically induced comma, so they could safely heal her skin grafts and keep her spine together. But the doctors were very pleased with their work. She had no visible scars on her body, and her spine and nerves functioned perfectly. Clean bill of health!

No one working on the station was foolish enough to leave her to herself, though. She had lost her whole family and crew. For the first time in many years she was alone. So the engineering staff had asked if she wouldn't mind helping them out until she decided what to do with herself.

Cooper had found that she simply had no more energy left to cry or to care. Money would be no problem. Financially she was set, as she could quite easily buy a share of a new freighter and also had her engineering skills to see her through. There was always work for a good engineer. Cooper agreed to lend a hand on the station. The people she worked with all understood what she was dealing with, they didn't pry or pretend that everything was fine. They knew her life had been smashed to pieces all around her, there was no one left who really knew or loved her. While working on various parts of the station's equipement, the other staff allowed her to retreat for a few minutes and simply try to recover her breath, because she kept calling over her shoulder for someone to bring her certain tools, and of course the people she called out to were never going to answer her or bring her a tool again...

She was still young, only 25 Earth years old, she could still, the psychiatry people said, have family and a happy productive life. She had somehow managed to arrange her face into a smile, somehow managed to thank them for their well meaning advice. Idiots. She had spent 15 wonderful years with her crew family, the six of them joyfully intertwined with each other. The pain of their absence was simply ghastly. The brutal amputation of their existance left gaping unhealing wounds in her soul. How could she ever let anyone else take their place again? She would not seek to end her life, no, it had been bought at far too high a price. But she certainly didn't intend to go looking for "replacements" for her family either. That would be madness!

Such was the state of things when the Torchwood officer sought her out in the engineering staff's cafeteria during a lunch break.

"Do you mind if I sit at your table?"

Cooper looked up from the infopad she was browsing through as she nibbled a sandwich. The person before her wore a very well broken in Torchwood uniform. He was obviously from somewhere in the command staff, Cooper wasn't exactly sure how it all was sorted. He had a tray of soup and sandwiches in hand.

Cooper shrugged, grimaced slightly, nodded. Went back to her infopad. He sat down in the seat opposite her.

"So, how are the portside docking bay doors coming along? The new wiring seems to be finished. Much more to do?"

Puzzled, Cooper glanced up. Why was an officer she didn't know curious about something so unimportant as that seldom used docking bay door? She looked at him properly. He was calmly cutting up a sandwich because, yes, he was a dunker. Dunk a piece of sandwich in his soup, then pop it into his mouth. Bright inquisitive pale blue eyes. Very dazzling smile. Cleft in chin. A bit passed his mid thirties, Cooper thought, he should be mature enough not to engage in this sort of tomfoolery by now. Wearily Cooper realized that he probably didn't know who she was, and that no one had had the opportunity to warn him off from "trying it on". She would have to deal with this Romeo herself.

" There's a problem with one of the doors. It was slightly buckled during that last meteor shower. It can be rewelded and straightened out, though. Soon fixed. " She grinned briefly, dropped her head back to her infopad. Hopefully he could take a hint.

Jack kept dunking and popping. He looked at her, all pulled in and quiet. She had scraped all her softly curling brown hair into a tight ponytail, and wore an old stained set of work overalls that were too big for her. Her shoulders were hunched in, as if she was trying to pour herself into the little hand held data sorting computer she was using. And he hadn't been imagining it, he had actually seen that gap between her front teeth when she had flashed him that travesty of a smile. Ye gods, after all this time. The request he had made so long ago, before he "retired" to the far reaches of known space to avoid himself during the time his younger self had been junketing about as a Time Agent.....for Torchwood Medical to keep an eye out for people with certain DNA, track them and their descendants. Jack knew when he came back, however much time had passed, he wanted to be able to put a team together again and get back to work. He knew what kind of people he worked best with. People from a certain area on Old Earth. And THIS one! Named Cooper Williams! He had some cherished data crystals with certain images stored on them. And this woman was one of those images come to life!
He had to manage this carefully, he had been warned she was fragile.

"Any thoughts on what you'll do when the repairs are done?" Jack asked casually. Dunked. Popped.

Irritated, Cooper raised her head and levelled a steady gaze at him. Jack was impaled on a set of rich dark brown eyes. He stopped chewing, lost in a memory of Gwen's angry glare. Dear Gwen, so long gone. And still here in this poor young woman's eyes. She sighed tiredly, put down her infopad and stared down at her hands, then up at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm not really interested in seeing anyone right now, especially not for a fling." She held up her left hand, exhibiting the ring on her ring finger. " As you can see, I"m spoken for, and I don't cheat. Sorry." Insufferable cad dealt with, she went back to working on her infopad.

Jack managed to swallow his mouthfull without choking and began chuckling. Grinning delightedly he took in the site of a riled female engineer about to dump half a bowl of cooling soup over his head. What a teammate she would be!

"No, you've got the wrong idea! I'm putting a new crew together, and I'm looking for good people to fill in some empty spots. The Chief Engineer of the station gave you a glowing review. I"ve been given the captaincy of "Myfanwy", and I want a good engineering staff for her."

Cooper was impressed. The Myfanwy was a legend. Not the biggest ship that Torchwood flew by any means, she was still full of packed muscle that was used to defend and support struggling colony worlds on the fringes of known space. And not just human colonies. "Myfanwy" defended any race from the depridations of pirates and unscrupulous traders. Torchwood knew that out on the borders between spatial territories your closest neighbors were often not of your own species. Indeed, there were several mixed species worlds where humans had decided to cast their lot in with other colonies in order to survive. For the most part, these mixed colonies were often roaring successes.

She frowned a little. "I worked freighters with my crew. I can do payload work as well. But, why would you be looking outside of your company for crew?"

Jack put down his soup spoon. He sighed. "Your crew, your ship "Nimravid", you had a good reputation. We used you a number of times. Nimravid gave good work at a fair price. And you have a good reputation out on the colony worlds. Your crew took on mercy runs to bring in medical or emergency food supplies and didn't ask for payment. You are what's left of Nimravid. I'd be a fool not to ask you. "

News of Nimravid's good name warmed Cooper's heart. Proud of their love and committment, the crew had often done without payment out of pride. They had so much wealth; they had each other and a fine little freighter and almost more work than they could handle. Why shouldn't they offer compassion to the desperate? But now all she had was a fat credit balance, five rings on a black cord around her neck and one on her left hand. Each ring had a small ancient feline predator engraved on it. And her family was as dead as that Old Earth predator. What would they want her to do now? What contribution could she make, as gutted and broken as she was?

She looked up into a gaze of crystal blue. " You know how I ended up here. We were hauling a shipment of raw ore in to be tested. Someone else thought that ore might be worth killing for." Cooper reached up and fingered the black cord around her neck. " My family...the crew put me in a medpod, after the first attack. We really had no weapons to speak of, after all we didn't carry anything of real value. Bigger freight companies did, we just caught the smaller cheaper loads. After the...after the other ship was finished, the interior of "Nimravid" was exposed....to vacuum. " She drew in a steady breath. The Torchwood medical people had helped her to learn how to keep breathing during times like this." I was fine, the seals of the medpod held. My family, the crew....the rest of the crew died in vacuum. And the ore we were carrying had no value to the other ship after all." A Torchwood ship had found the smashed remains of "Nimravid" and had carefully retrieved the bodies of five crew members as well as a surprisingly still functioning medpod. The hulk had been towed in , because recycled metals had some value. As a ship, "Nimravid " was finished.

Cooper got a grip on herself and continued on. " The doctors here are first rate. They had me stitched back up in no time. And the legal staff kept those garbage feeders claiming to be our families from getting their paws on "Nimravid"s credit accounts. We kept a copy of our wedding liscence and company charter at what ever space stations we worked out of, it just seemed like a good idea. We thought we had forever....we had plans...Nona and Carys wanted to have babies with Larry and Kev...." Again, Cooper controlled her breathing, gripped the cord at her neck tightly. " I honestly don't know what use I could be to you, I have nothing in me anymore. I don't know if I can commit to another team like that again." Cooper's eyes were hopeless , her lower lip trembled slightly.

Jack carefully reached out a hand, gently took one of Cooper's in his. He held it lightly, offering comfort but escape at the same time. " I know what it's like to lose close family, teammates. Each time it happens I swear never again, I'll never let myself be hurt that way again. But, then I want to honor their memory, I want to share my memories of the time we had together. I remember that I'm all that's left of a part of them, and that I can keep them alive in my heart by loving and sharing my life with others. " Jack cradled Cooper's tough little hand in his much larger palm. " I know what grief is, I've shut myself off, I've done some stupid and self destructive things to punish myself for surviving when someone I love doesn't. I have been so blessed, some truly wonderful people have been in my life through the years. I keep boxes of data chips and crystals, little mementos.... I find being able to tell stories about them, let other people know about them....I share their lives, and somehow a part of them goes on." Jack gazed into sad brown eyes.

Cooper drew in a long ragged breath. " I've got 15 years worth of stories about 5 wonderful people to go on about."

Jack smiled softly, wrapping his warm hand around her small one. " I have lots of time to listen and lots of stories to share. By the way, did you know one of your ancesters worked for Torchwood a long time ago? I think I know a few stories about her. Aha, you're interested now, aren't you? See, you'll have to come with me , or else you'll never hear about her!"

Cooper allowed herself a small smile. "Well, it's not as if I've got a lot on my plate. I guess I can see my way clear to accepting your offer. I'll have to get myself added to the Torchwood company charter. When I go to personnel , who shall I say requested me as crew?"

"Didn't I introduce myself?" He shook his head, grinning. Cooper could see the years drop away as mischief crinkled around his eyes. " Captain Jack Harkness at your service , Miss Williams!"

Doreen--Happy Pants 'verse

Title: Doreen
Author: chironsgirl
Rating: NC 17
Warnings: Sheer unmitigated nonsense
Summary: Andy gets ready to give Jack and Ianto a nice dinner---but the girl across the hall wants to say thanks....
A/N: I steal freely from TW and Discworld. No money changes hands, though.

Doreen sat at her little kitchen table, leafing through the cookbook that the nice old lady had given her. She had been dressed in old fashioned clothes, and Doreen didn't think the old lady REALLY needed help crossing the street---but Doreen had been raised to honor her elders and had gently taken a hold of the shawl wrapped elbow and guided her through the intersection. The old lady ( who really needed a good set of dentures) had patted her arm, called her a good girl and deftly slipped the book into Doreen's big green tote bag. She then tottered off down the sidewalk, humming to herself.

Doreen had had to get to work at the library, and hadn't had time to look at the book until she got home a few minutes ago. She had been pondering what she could do to properly thank the nice policeman across the hall. Andy had come over shortly after she had moved in to make sure that her windows and door had the right locks, and that she knew where all the fire exit doors were in their apartment building. He also made sure she knew which streets a nice girl shouldn't walk down at anytime. The little town she was from had no such problems. Doreen was very grateful for his help and wanted to thank him.

Entire fire departments had been thanked by Doreen, and walked for days afterward with dazed eyes, limps and big goofy smiles. Doreen BELIEVED in demonstrating her appreciation.

She nibbled her plump,pink lower lip. Her emerald green eyes sparkled and she tugged at her strawberry blonde pony tail. Some of the recipes had funny names--Celery Astonishment, Bananana Surprise... Oh, here was a nice one! Oatmeal Amazement!


PC Davidson stood in the entrance of the smelly alley, casually watching people scurrying home from work. It was late afternoon and his shift would be over soon. In fact, he had tonight and the next two days off. My my, what would he do with himself? He smiled angelically.

Suddenly a large paw clamped onto his behind and squeezed. A hungry growl went all the way through Andy's spine. The Little Constable was very interested.

PC Davidson smiled again. "Afternoon, Captain. Nice day for it."

A completely FILTHY chuckle tickled his ear. "We still on for tonight?"

Andy nodded. " I've got the steaks, a nice goody for dessert. And...I bought a new coffee table."

"After dinner entertainment!" Jack nipped the back of Andy's neck playfully, gave his ass a final pat. And then was gone.


Doreen crinkled her flawless forehead, wondering if she was reading the recipe properly. Crushed chili flakes? Wow! That would certainly add some zip! She shrugged her perfect shoulders. Sprinkled some chili flakes into the mix. Well, she would just have to try it.


Andy bustled about his kitchen happily. The three of them hadn't been able to find time to be together for a few weeks, so all of them having tonight and tomorrow off meant that they could put his new king size bed to good use. And....his new coffee table.

Andy chopped up the salad, mixed up some dressing. He slipped the baking potatoes into the oven, took the chocolate torte out of the fridge. The nice counter lady had given him an extra bottle of chocolate sauce. He also had an extra set of handcuffs. Both items would come in handy after dinner. Along with the new coffee table. A truly angelic smile drifted dreamily over his face.


Well the oven certainly smelled nice! Doreen put a rack on the counter and carefully slipped a spatula under the big cookies to nudge them off the baking sheet onto the rack. It wouldn't take long for them to cool, and she would put them in a nice container. Hmmmm. Her t shirt had some flour and cookie dough smudges, maybe she should change into a clean shirt.


Andy checked that everything was on the table. The steaks were marinating. Jack would grill them up on the Habatchi on the balcony. Jack was very good with meat.

Andy looked at his watch. Oh! The boys would be here soon, he better go and change into his new outfit. He scampered to his room.


Doreen pulled a clean green shirt on. She looked down and sighed. Her 36 DDs acted as if they had never heard of gravity. The darn things just floated up as if they were full of helium. She didn't bother to wear a bra when she wasn't at work. A bra tended to make her feel squeezed in.

Doreen went to her little kitchen, scooped up the green cookie container and headed to the door.


Andy heard a knock at his door. They were here! He went to the door and excitedly threw it open.


Jack and Ianto came down the hallway towards Andy's apartment. They were both looking forward to a nice evening in; a good steak dinner, dessert, and after dinner....they could hardly wait.

But what was this? Who was this vision? And .....Andy?


Doreen stood with her cookie container clutched in her hands, her jaw dropped in shock. Andy was naked! Well, no , not completely naked. As a matter of fact, Andy had very carefully dressed up The Little Constable in a mini regulation constable's tunic. There was even a little constable's cap perched jauntily on top. But other than that, yup, naked.

Jack and Ianto came and flanked Doreen. They both took in Andy's new outfit and grinned.

"Hey, Andy, cool outfit!" Jack turned to the girl with the amazing.....cookie container. "Hi there, I'm Captain Jack Harkness." Jack poured on the charm, adding extra glints to his eyes and teeth.

Still dazed, and terminally embarrassed, Andy made introductions. "Um, this is...Doreen, my new neighbour from across the hall. Doreen, this is Jack...and Ianto. My...my...friends."
Andy wished he knew what to do with his hands. Or his face. Or his Little Constable.

Ianto held out his hands. "Is that for Andy? Why don't I just take that, yes?" Ianto eased the container away from Doreen.

"Oh, um, yes. I just made these to say thank you. So, um. Thank you. Andy." She briskly turned and the three men watched as a pair of perfect hips and a truly magnificent derriere swiveled back across the hall.

"Wow." Jack said. "Do you think that's her real hair colour?"


Dinner was delightful. Dessert was festive. But The Little Constable's strip tease routine after dessert brought the house down.


Jack slunk out of Andy's room around 3am, feeling a bit peckish. He found the green cookie container and opened it. Andy wouldn't mind if he took a few cookies. Oh! Oatmeal chocolate chip! Jack LOVED oatmeal chocolate chip! Grinning, Jack poured himself a glass of milk and plunked his bare behind down on Andy's sofa to enjoy the treat. Nibbling the cookies, Jack checked out the coffee table. It was very much like Ianto's. They hadn't tried it out tonight, but maybe after brunch? Hmmmmm, these cookies were tasty, very tasty. And maybe just a bit spicy? Curious. He didn't think oatmeal chocolate chip cookies were usually spicy.

Jack realized he was starting to feel a bit warm. Yes, and a bit...sweaty. Jack's eyebrows sprung up, and he looked down. Oh! Oh my! My! Goodness! Jack looked at the last cookie, then looked towards the bedroom. Then looked back at the cookie. He quickly gobbled up the cookie and scrambled back to the bedroom. Ianto and Andy were just going to have to wake up and help him handle this situation.