Torchwood say what? (Owen/8-Ball)

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Owen stares out the window of his large apartment. He sighs and looks over the sleeping city with its glowing lights, he listens to the faint purr of the moving cars and grins. His hand reaches down and grasps a cold glass of wine, he enjoys the sharp momentary chill of the condensation on his hand before just the wetness of it remains on his palm making the glass slip a bit in his palm before settling resting on the backs of the knuckles of his middle and pointer finger on his right hand. His brown eyes return to the room he is in, his large bed unused for three days looks very welcoming. "I am so tired I can't sleep. But I am also so happy I don't care." Why is he happy? Easy, he was out of the Hub after a three day shift. He tips the glass back draining the sharp bitter wine in one gulp.

"Nothing will ruin this night and no one will." He looks at his communicator briefly debating turning it off. He really didn't need Jack ticked off at him though, even if he had decided to abandon them, so he left it on. Pulling back the cold thick comforters he climbs into bed and wraps his arms around the pillow wishing it was Gwen Cooper his recent bed mate. His heavy eyes close of their own will and soon his mind is swept into the dreamless world of exhaustion induced sleep.

BEEP BEEEP BEEEEEEEP Owen groans and looks at looks at his communicator. "Really at..." he glares at the clock. "two in the morning? This had better be good." He picks up the communicator. "What?" His tone is sharp, a little slurred, and spells 'This had better be good or someone is going to die' as he speaks.

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The last thing 8-Ball remembered was falling, hands outstretched to hold onto the scraps of a life she could never return to, trying to grab onto anything and everything at once before it all got too much and she was lost to the darkness. The air in London crackled with energy for a moment before it became deathly still, the focus concentrated in one darkened alleyway beside a warehouse. The very fabric of existence seemed to pulse and vibrate with shocking intensity before a giant ripping noise split the air in half and the plane of vision cracked. Out of the jagged crack was spat a girl, blond hair flailing out and her body seeming to glow with energy. She rolled over and over on the cold hard ground before coming to a stop, face down in the dingy alley.

Behind her, the rip sealed itself with a sucking noise and the deathly quiet was replaced by unsure birdsong in the twilight hours. The girl's hat had landed beside her hand and for a minute she didn't move at all. To any and all, she would look asleep, but to the trained eye, the slowly dissipating orange glow would spell only one, impossible thing.

She awoke groggy and with a splitting headache, face down in a puddle and personal belongings strewn out around her like a robbery gone wrong. Her eyes blinked with a dull ache and a hand raised to rub her forehead, momentarily forgetting where she was. Then it hit her like a freight train. She froze, painfully aware of her hopeless situation and totally at a loss at what to do next. This wasn't home anymore, she had to remind herself. 

But first... where exactly was she?

8-Ball glanced around and up at the clear night sky, a look of shock on her face. The glow was almost gone but not quite, the remaining tendrils sticking to her body. She looked up at the cloudless sky and around her in wonderment, amazed at the peacefulness of it all. Her rucksack was tossed lazily over her right shoulder, her hat scrunched up in her left and her right hand by her side.

It was just her, and those quickly approaching car headlights screaming over the tarmac.
Oh.

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Owen hops into his car after hanging up his communicator with a snap. He growls and starts the car speeding off towards the spot indicated where the Rift spike was seen. "They brought me on duty to deal with a minor spike! I told Tosh to get me only if it was a life or death situation!" He continues to mutter in anger and as he drives toward the spike swearing violently as he makes a wrong turn. He makes a quick u-turn, smiling at the thought of how James Bond style that was, he speeds off once more towards the spike. 

"The sooner I get this sorted out the sooner I can get back to my wine and night off." He grumbles as he comes toward the strange glow that can only be alien. "I swear if this is another one of those Rift aliens that are partial to human flesh I will be a very unhappy Owen Harper." He glares at the glow as if his look alone would send it fleeing, and honestly he doesn't understand why it wouldn't after all who could resist his looks, or obey them for that matter. It was times like these he wondered why people didn't listen to him more often.

As he turns the corner into the alleyway his headlights show a being on the ground beginning to rise. Quickly getting out of his van, and drawing his gun just in case it is one of those flesh eating aliens, Owen moves on towards the glow just as it begins to fade. He trains his gun on the figure. "IDENTIFY YOURSELF! WHY ARE YOU HERE!? I WILL SHOOT IF YOU DON'T ANSWER!!"

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8-Ball smiled in relief as she was yet again faced with a gun. Relief? The girl couldn't help but chuckle. Of all the things she'd been faced with over the years, the prospect of a hostile gun didn't really frighten her much any more. In fact, it just made her giggle, at least this man wasn't about to go and reanimate on her... hopefully. 

In a situation such as this, there was only one option.

Make it up as you go along.

To that tune, the girl pushed her blonde hair behind her shoulders, rammed her hat on her head and dumped her rucksack on the ground. A small smile graced her face as she mockingly raised her hands to the sky, taking another moment to admire its beauty that back home had been obscured by smog before refocusing her gaze on the man.

"Would you believe me if I said you're the friendliest person I've met all day?"

She drawled with a grin, her iridescent eyes shining with dry humour and her arms hanging lazily in the air. Her words were chosen carefully, and the pause between them made it evident as did her ever growing contemplative and sardonic smile. 

"My name, is 8-Ball. I know why I am here, but I don't really know how explain it. I've had one hell of a day... and I'm not quite sure what good shooting would do."

Another grin and this time she walked closer, making sure to show she was unarmed and her smile ever-mocking. Her face and clothes were singed, dirty and blood stained, but her smile and eyes shone through. She appeared well worn and weary, and if it wasn't for the orange glow she'd be spending the night in a police cell rather than... wherever here was now.

"Now it's my turn. Who are you? Who do you work for? Why are you here? Why am I glowing?" She held up a hand as an example. "And for the love of god and all that's holy could you tell me where I am?" Her voice never raised into a shout, it just sounded mildly hurt, as if where she was was information that was being kept from her. For the first time the smile became apologetic, if only mildly. "It's going to take a while to explain, even by my standards and I was known for the best stories back at base camp."

Her face froze for a second, her mind drifting back to the zombies? Suppose this was some crude trick and the others were standing by in the wings and laughing? The girl spun around slowly on the spot, taking in all her surroundings before coming to the conclusion that this in fact was not a trick. That rift had in fact been real and if what the man back home had said had been correct, she was now in an alternate reality. But just to make sure...

"Just a question, it's not really very important as important things go, but, er, have you seen any zombies lately? No? Okay?"

8-Ball was dismissive even from the start of the question. She knew it was a long shot, it wasn't that it had been quieter (or perhaps nosier, depending on the perspective), it was that the sounds were what she considered to be 'wrong' or abnormal. No gunshots, no shouting and no incessant groaning from the undead. 

It was almost... peaceful. Except from the guns of course.

Some things never change, even across dimensions.

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Owen stares at the woman in confusion. Most people faced with a gun would at least appear afraid, she seems relieved. He lowers his gun as she begins to talk and though he keeps it drawn he relaxes a bit. As she asks her questions he begins to think, obviously this woman came through the Rift but why?

"Now it's my turn. Who are you? Who do you work for? Why are you here? Why am I glowing?" She held up a hand as an example. "And for the love of god and all that's holy could you tell me where I am?"


"I am Owen Harper, I work for a secret organization called Torchwood, I am here because there was a major spike in Rift activity, and I have no idea why you are glowing." He draws a bit of breath having said that in one breath then dives into his next answer. "You are in Cardiff. You are on Earth. Now answer me this miss, why did you just come through the Rift? What do you remember before landed here?"  He quirks his brow as he hears her next question.

"Just a question, it's not really very important as important things go, but, er, have you seen any zombies lately? No? Okay?"



"Well that really depends on your view of zombie. I have seen bodies reanimated but they all died again eventually."

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He was here because of the rift activity? Well then, he had just missed the show. "Err, yeah. That was me." She said rather sheepishly, grinning through the haze. The glow stuck fast to her skin and clothes, even going as far as to make her eyes shine ever so slightly orange. "Can I..?" 8-Ball asked, nodding to her raised hands that were starting to tingle and wiggled her fingers. Shrugging, the girl put the down anyway and leant over to pick her back-pack back up, slinging it safely back onto her shoulder where it belonged.

"Torch wood? Sounds rather depressing." She intoned, frowning as she thought of burning wood. Then she realised how cold out it was and that by all normal human standards she should be at least shivering by now. But no, no shivering, no blue nails and no cold skin. Just... nothing.

"Oh come on now, I go through all that just to end up on Earth?! I at least was expecting a change." The girl complained, folding her arms and scowling, leaning back against the side of the car and looking up at the sky that she can't seem to draw her eyes away from. His next questions make her question even what she knew. Perhaps a normal human would have suggested that this was no place for a chat. Should she do that? Nonsense, the notion hadn't even crossed her mind by the time she started speaking and by then it was already too late to change it. 

"I came through the rift because I had no other choice. My home world, my alternate world, was overrun with zombies. That's why I asked you if you had seen any. This planet Earth and my planet Earth are very similar you see. Anyway, I was bitten whilst saving this guy; since there's not many of us survivors left it's kind of a code of honour that you look out for each other. He stopped the infection, stopped time... After that it gets a bit hazy..."

She told the story with her hands and her eyes more than her words. At the mention of the bite her eyes grew sorrowful at the thought of leaving Kat and the others behind, and at the mention of zombies her hands clenched defensively. The truth of the matter? 8-Ball could remember everything in high definition, startling and not-very-much-wanted detail. However, she barely knew the guy in front of her and not a minute ago he had been pointing a gun at her. She didn't know whether she could trust him and for that reason she kept the rest of her story under guard.

"You've seen a lot, haven't you?"

8-Ball asked, managing to peel her eyes away from the stars to look him dead in the eyes. People said that eyes were a window to the soul, and if that was anything to go by then this soul had been round the block a few more than a many times. The girl wondered about her own eyes and what stories they could tell. Would they tell of the horrors she had faced, the zombies she had killed or the lives she had tried but failed to save? She hoped not, some of those secrets she wasn't ready to let go of just yet...

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Owen puts his gun away and looks at her with a slight sigh. "I have seen more than you can imagine." He processes her explanation and chuckles. "Torchwood will be Torchwood. Now let's get you out of the cold and somewhere warm." He needs to get her to the Hub, the glow that is coming off her is beginning to make him uneasy and he wants to make sure it isn't hurting her. He looks around then sighs and says. "Come with me, I'm going to bring you to the Hub, Torchwood's base, preferably before the police take an interest in what is going on here." He looks about and sighs. Now that he has deemed her not a threat he realizes just how dangerous this could get if people see him and her in an alley and she is literally glowing.

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8-Ball could feel tiredness creeping over her, the static change needing time to fine-tune itself, but she fought to keep herself awake. She couldn't drop her guard now. Fortunately, she had gotten pretty good at that. The girl rammed her hands into her pockets, thumbing the switch knife thoughtfully. So he thought it was cold? She figured she needed to keep the 'not so abnormal' human guise for as long as possible. This worlds attitudes to zombies was not yet known, nor was the extent of her change, 

"Is it that cold?" 8-Ball couldn't help but ask, taking her hands out of her pocket to study them, turning them over so that the palms faced up, then quickly shoving them back in her pockets when she realised that dried blood from her wrist bite had leaked all over her hands as well as her clothes (not that they weren't blood stained already). There had to be a cloth in her bag somewhere.

"Can't be much of a secret base if you're taking someone you've just met there." She said, starting to doubt what he said. "What is it exactly that Torchwood does again?" The girl realised that he actually hadn't told her, though by the fact that he mentioned 'rift activity' (which is what 8-Ball assumed had chucked her through), he was in the know of something. 

The girl chuckled in the face of uncertainty, casting a surveying glance around the headlight-lit alley before darting her gaze back to Owen. Her movements were sharp, quick and cautious, always on the watch and preparing for an expected attack. "I suppose I've got nothing better to do today." She said, shaking her head from side to side as she picked up her haphazardly tossed crowbar from the floor and sliding it home through her belt.

It did make her wonder, what did she expect to do here? What could she do? She didn't even exist, she had no where to live and no way of making a living or surviving past what she learnt back home. Perhaps this Torchwood idea didn't seem such a bad one after all... "Have you got a map?" She asked, trying to hide her curiosity as she clambered into the car, ignoring the seatbelt. The crowbar was rested on her knees almost out of habit and he sunglasses were slipped onto her face, even in the dead of night (mostly to hide the glow that the orange gave her eyes, but more so habitually). Her guard was never let down, even though she was out of danger. For all she knew, she could be careering head first into new dangers.

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Owen looks at the woman and sighs a bit. What was he going to do with this one? She is so odd and obviously she was spat up by the Rift, though he had never seen the Rift make people glow before.  He notes how she doesn't seem to be displaying signs of a chill, no trembling or blue lips, also her demeanor is off with the fact she isn't hunching her shoulders at all. He silently notes this and goes on a higher alert.  He tenses slightly when she asks what Torchwood is. "Torchwood is an organization that specializes in finding, observing, and sometimes if needed we apprehend aliens." 

When the woman inspects her hands Owen notes that she is actually covered in blood and what he previously thought was an odd fashion statement. He quirks his eyebrow slightly but makes no comment to this fact.He quickly gets in the car and drives toward the Hub using the long way just in case they were being followed. "You should really put your belt on miss." He ignores the fact he does not have his own belt on and continues driving until they arrive at the back entrance to the Hub where he parks in the garage.  He turns to the woman. "Let me make myself clear. What you are about to see is top secret if you choose to leave your memory will be wiped. If you choose to remain then you will have to join the team or remain under arrest and not aloud to leave. Do you understand?" He looks her in the eye dead serious, while he may not have agreed with a lot of what Jack had done he did understand the need for Torchwood to remain a secret.

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"Too risky. I've seen guys caught out by that in a quick ditch."

Was the simple answer 8-Ball gave Owen to the seatbelt remark and turned her gaze back out the window to watch the world go by intact. It was strange to see it all lit up, so happy and so... peaceful. There were no gunfights in the street, no dismembered corpses staggering back to life and, well, it was better than the eerie quiet that came from a town with no inhabitants. At least these ones were... breathing.

She cast a sly glance over at Owen, biting back the many questions she had in a rare control of the tongue to keep the enigmatic air around her as long as possible. Her long, ragged blonde hair was knotted and tipped with red and her gaunt face gave way to tired eyes and weary skin littered with scratches and scars. 8-Ball wanted nothing more than to sleep, wake up, and hope to any God that was listening here that it was all a dream. Perhaps she should get Owen to pinch her and she if she'd wake up..?

The girl was seen to visibly tense up as the car went into the garage, her eyes frantically scanning the view out the window and her hands tightening on the crowbar until his voice swept through her conscious like a calming wave. Her white-knuckle grip on the weapon yielded and she flexed her hand, as if the sensation previously would have caused a dull ache, now there was... nothing. 

"I doubt I've got a choice in the matter. I'm a bit out of practice of following orders mind, blame the apocalypse and all."

A small grin tried to hide the apprehensive look on the girls face as she hid behind her sunglasses, reluctantly pulling them down to look him dead in the eye, hoping that it wouldn't betray how lost and in over her head she was feeling right now. 8-Ball managed a nod towards him before climbing out the car and closing the door softly behind her, tossing the crowbar from hand to hand to try and stay her quickening heart.

"After you."

She gestured, sweeping the area in front of her with a hand and grinning again as the glow stained the light a pale orange as it continued to slowly dissipate since she had arrived in this world. Her roughly bandaged and bloodstained hand lingered in the light for a moment more than she was comfortable with before it was returned to her side, electing to keep the glasses on until she established more about the place. You could never be too careful.

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Owen rolls his eyes in response to her answer and responds to her in turn. "I have dealt with to many cases where the person could have been saved had they had their belt on." Well it was the truth somewhat, his training had included a course on emergency response. He sighs and continues to drive his way past darkened buildings. He turns past his favorite bar with it's tinted out windows and then past a happy couple walking hand in hand. His mind momentarily turns to his past when he too had had love. His bitterness towards aliens flashes and his wish to forget it all whispers in his mind. He forces himself to shake it off and continue driving he is going to finish this mission then go home and forget. 

When he pulls the van into their secret garage, which like their hideout is hidden from public view, he notices her tense up out of the corner of his eyes. Now most likely had it been anyone but Owen who had done the pick up they might have tried to comfort the girl, but this was Owen and he is still miffed he had lost his night off.  He turns off the van and prepares to get out when she responds. "Look you wont always have a choice in leaving the Hub but whether it is with your memory in tact or not will be up to you. Because of how your got here you are of interest to Torchwood which makes you a priority, especially since you are alive." With those oh so comforting words he gets out of the van and all but slams the door closed. 

Owen sighs and heads toward the door ignoring the woman's gesture. He feels his mind turn to the dead on look from those odd eyes he had just received from her and shudders. Those eyes had seen some terrible things, he was going to help her but she didn't need to know that. "Welcome to the Torchwood Hub." He shoves open a door and enters the massive Hub headquarters, which is apparently empty. He rolls his eyes figuring the person who he put on duty was off somewhere. Wonderful just wonderful. He makes a mental note to check who he left in charge then rip them a new one for being irresponsible. "Follow me and we will see what that glow is about." With that order he heads to the medical bay without really checking to see if the woman is following him.

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8-Ball couldn't help but feel the tension steeling in the air between them. She watched him move out of the corner of her eyes, not being to dim down her sense of apprehension and alertness. There was confidence and then there was cocky, 8-Ball was sure in herself (most of the time) but the latter was something she avoided like the plague. No pun intended. For the first time there was a hint of suppressed fear creeping into her conscious. It wasn't the guns she feared, or the fights or the disease or even the zombies. It was the people. What was a human without its humanity?

His words did little to comfort her, though supposedly that was their intention. "You keep thinking that sunshine." She muttered under her breath and followed him through, not feeling like there was much choice she had and also out of curiosity. This place seemed eerily familiar to her, like a bad dream that no matter how hard you grasp at you forget... but some things still remain. She hadn't really had time to breach the subject of 'you are alive... but you are dead' yet. Part of her was still in denial. No matter how much she dared to think about it, it had happened. Now, once again, she was left to deal with the fallout. Only this time it was more of a personal one.

"Torchwood". 8-Ball tested the word on her tongue, realising for the first time how parched and thirsty she was. A quick scan of the room located a water cooler and a pillar of plastic cups. With a quick glance at Owen, she deviated her path to incorporate the cooler and walked away with a refreshing plastic cup full of clear liquid. She took a hesitant sip and smiled. Even the water was sweeter here. Owen, right. Probably should be following him. 8-Ball looked up and around for the guy and hurried after him, walking quickly and trying not to spill the drink until she caught up and fell into step.

She didn't have to ask him where they were going, the signs told the story for them. But even then she was apprehensive. On one hand she wanted to sort out what this blasted glow was... but what else would their procedures also reveal? Would it be able to detect the slight tissue rot from the infection or the presence of the virus in her DNA. Was the pathogen inert in this timeline, had the vortex destroyed it. Was that how she was still alive? Had the 'vortex' burnt through that. Had her curse saved her? Of course not. It was a virus. Its purpose was to destroy. It didn't deserve a moment of glory to redeem itself.

8-Ball nudged the door of the medical bay open and wandered over to the sink, dumping her pack and crowbar on the floor but not bothering to de-weapon (of which there was roughly fifteen on her person at any one time, not counting the rucksack or crowbar). The blood was washed from her hands and face and a feeling of freshness engulfed her. She used the mirror to glance over her shoulder at Owen, but she couldn't quite manage a smile. "What you gonna do?" A curious tone to cover up the apprehension. "I'll do my best at explainin anythin you find but... try not to freak. Please." That one word, 'please', carried so much sincerity with it it was strange to hear it coming out of 8-Ball's mouth. But it did, and she met Owen's eyes steadily via the mirror before turning around and sighing, leaning against the sink and tapping her fingers, still unable to relax.

"Right. Lets get started, doc. Do what you gotta do."

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Owen sensed the girl deviate her path as they walked through the large interior of the Hub.  He slowed his step subtly and waited for her steps to fall in with his once more as they headed to the medbay. He though over any possibility that this glow was caused by an airborne pathogen and shrugged his shoulders mentally. His thoughts then turned to the Rift itself, could that rip in time be the cause of this girl's glowing problem? If that is the case then the scans might not work as well, they knew so little about the Rift and with Jack not present they knew even less. Well the only way to find out what the scans would bring would be to do them.

"What you gonna do?"

Owen had watched her prepare herself as he got the scanners and other tests ready for her. He looked up when she spoke then looked back at his work.  "I am going to run a few tests on you and scan your body and blood for any pathogens or mutations that the Rift may have caused. I need to find out what is causing that glow. I can't allow it to seep into the human world let alone allow it to cause an epidemic. I promise this shouldn't hurt you anymore than a normal blood test would." He looked back up at her and met her eye through their reflection in the mirror.

"I'll do my best at explainin anythin you find but... try not to freak. Please." 

He couldn't help but quirk his left eyebrow at those words. "Princess I have ran into quite a few monsters in my career, I highly doubt anything you say will cause me to freak out." He leaned against the wall as he watched her face through the mirror. "Trust me 8-Ball there is nothing you tell me that will cause me to freak out."

"Right. Lets get started, doc. Do what you gotta do."

"Right now sit down on the medical bed and I will begin to hook you up to the machines. I will need to take a few blood samples and maybe a tissue sample or two." He looked her over and then nodded to the bed. "Now for the boring part." He began to ask her the normal questions that doctors ask their patients and then finished with. "Have you ran into or been bitten by any aliens lately?" He waited patiently for her to sit on the bed and answer his questions.

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8-Ball knew very little about the world around her, which was odd considering she had lived on Earth for all of the... however many years she had been alive. 8-Ball tensed, very visibly, and seemed to shrink away from the word 'epidemic', then frowned at 'human world' came filtering through her conscious. "Which blood do you want?" She muttered under her breath, looking her arms and body up and down, tracing the pattern of dried blood splatters with once clean (and now dirty again) finger. 

She pouted and folded her arms at princess, looking every inch like she was sulking. "And I am royally annoyed at you." She voiced sarcastically and rolled her eyes. Despite being from another dimension and having had to grow up fast when the outbreak happened in her preteens, she was still a teenager. The people she hung with weren't the best roll models by any standard, but they survived and that was more than she could have asked for. 8-Ball drew a short, sharp blade from her belt and used it to pick the dirt and dried blood out from under her nails, looking up him now and again to acknowledge that she was listening. Her own left eyebrow quirked up. "You just wait." She smiled sardonically, it not quite meeting her eyes and hopped up onto the medical bed, storing the knife back away.

Her legs began to swing slowly, like she was a small child at the doctors office and was expecting a lollipop at the end of it all. In this case, she was expecting a bullet. She wasn't holding out much hope for a cure for this... whatever it was. She hadn't even had time to mourn for the loss of her friends back in the zone, were they even still alive? Did time pass in the same way as it did here? What had happened to them? The girl forced herself to breathe, to focus on the situation and ponder those thoughts when she was alone. 8-Ball stifled a yawn and watched Owen carefully. She really was tired...

She nodded her way through the explanation and answered the questions the best she could. No, she couldn't remember her age. A glare, she had other things to think about at the time. She wasn't sure when she had last eaten or how tall or how much she weighed. And no, she didn't have an interest in finding out. The interview brought a lot of unanswered questions, though which 8-Ball stared defiantly and defensively at Owen, even though he was trying to help couldn't he get on with it already?

The last question made her pause, racking her brains to think back to what she had already told him. Did zombies count as aliens? Probably not, they were from Earth and they were still human technically. So, "No, I haven't run into or been bitten by any aliens recently." was the answer to his question, her eyes staring into his and daring him to challenge her, even though he already knew part of the story. She'd have to get used to people not believing her...

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Owen listens and nods as she answers all his questions in an honest, albeit annoyed, tone. He chuckles at her reaction to his new nickname to her. "Well then your new nickname is princess, princess." He made notes of her answers then quirked his brow at the answer she gave him about being bitten. He had caught the hesitation in her voice but he dropped the subject simply deciding to check for scars during his med scans. He began to gently hook her up to a few machines to check her brain waves and pulse, as well as blood pressure. He then began to take a few vials of blood, as well as a small tissue sample. He then goes to the machines and begins the tests.

((OOC: You can post the results I don't want to godmode her results))