SquidgeWorld Archive

Stockholm syndrome
by Lilithangel

The light was harsh and bright; he made his peace with the world and was ready for the darkness to take him. Then he was warm and comfortable and unable to move. It could be a heaven he didn’t believe in or the universe wasn’t done with him yet.

He still appeared to have eyes so he opened them. The light was bright but not as bright at the one he’d thought would be his last and after a few seconds he adjusted.

He was lying on his back on something soft enough to be a bed, his arms and legs were restrained and he could feel his heart beating. He’d almost forgotten and it pounded so heavily he missed the sound of a door opening and a familiar face looked down on him.

“What the fuck is going on?” Owen said to John.

“Is that any way to act with your saviour?” John said with a grin.

“No but it’s perfect for my kidnapper,” Owen said with a scowl.

“You wound me,” John said, “I didn’t have to pull you out of that reactor you know.”

“How did you manage that anyway?”

John waggled his wrist. “Said it before, it’s not the size it’s what you do with it. Anyway, I bet you’re hungry.” He sat down on the bed next to Owen.

Owen realised he was hungry and thirsty, and naked. Somehow the naked part didn’t surprise him at all and he was still trying to cope with the sound of his heart beating.

“How the hell am I alive?”

“No idea,” John said with a grin, “but it’s a much better option than the one I rescued you from.”

“Why did you rescue me and why aren’t I back in the Hub?” Owen tugged on his bonds angrily. Two pairs of standard issue handcuffs restrained his wrists and he could feel ropes around his ankles.

“You must be hungry,” John said. He jumped off the bed and headed for the door.

“I want answers you bastard,” Owen demanded.

“You’re not in any position to want anything,” John said his voice chilling.

As he opened the door and left the room Owen caught a glimpse of a short corridor and another door before John slammed the first behind him.

Giving up on escaping his bonds Owen looked around the room, trying to establish where he was and how he could escape. It was an old bedroom with a small free standing wardrobe against one wall and a side table with a wash basin and pitcher that Owen hoped wasn’t the only bathing facility in the place. The mattress under him was old and sagged in the middle which fitted with the age of the room, and he was tied to the wrought iron bedstead. A window on the far wall was covered with an ugly brown and yellow curtain.

It wasn’t the nicest place Owen had ever woken up to, but since he’d never expected to wake up again he couldn’t bring himself to care, despite the scratch of the rough wool blanket over him and the slight smell of damp wafting up from the mattress. What he did care about was being the prisoner of John bloody Hart and getting back to the team.

John returned with a tray of sandwiches and two bottles of beer. Owen scowled when John started to tear apart a sandwich and offer it to him.

“Untie me and I’ll do it myself,” Owen said, twisted his head away from John’s fingers.

“Nope,” John said, “now be a good boy and eat what I made for you.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Owen said but his stomach growled and he wasn’t about to refuse food so he opened his mouth obediently. John popped a piece of sandwich into his mouth and Owen groaned with pleasure, god he’d missed taste. Owen lost himself in the joy of eating only coming back when he realised he was licking John’s fingers. John was watching with darkened eyes and they stared at each other for a moment before John blinked and offered him a sip of beer.

Two sandwiches and a beer later Owen groaned in satisfaction. John sprawled out against the foot of the bed with the other bottle dangling in one hand.

“Why’d you rescue me?” Owen asked again.

“To see if I could,” John replied, “couldn’t help the other one but I did wonder about you. Thought maybe Jack would be grateful to have you back.”

Owen’s heart clenched at John’s words. He knew it was Tosh John was referring to, he’d known she was hurt worse than she’d let on at the time but he’d been too damn selfish to think about it. “What changed?” he said.

“Decided he had enough,” John said, “he has his Welsh bookends, his fancy toys and what do I have? Nothing.” John pouted. “Going to explore this planet, figured I might need some company.”

“You want a pet you should have got a poodle,” Owen said angrily, “I’m not some sort of travel guide you buy in a shop I’m a fucking human being.”

“You’re a dead body,” John said calmly, “as far as anyone else is concerned you stopped existing. Nobody’s looking; they’re too busy mourning you. I saved your life so be grateful.”

“I’d be more grateful if I wasn’t chained to some tatty old bed because you didn’t have anyone to play with,” Owen yelled.

“Well I can see you’re in a mood,” John said climbing off the bed, “I’ll leave you to sleep, see if the morning doesn’t give you a better outlook.”

“Don’t you bloody dare,” Owen said but John just turned the light out and shut the door behind him.

Owen yelled and screamed, tugging on his restraints until he could feel the skin split on his wrists. He stopped struggling but continued yelling until his voice was hoarse and a more pressing need presented itself.

He ignored the need for as long as he could and then started calling out again, this time with less anger and more determination. It didn’t help and he was forced to suffer the indignity of wetting the bed.

When John reappeared light was leaking in around the tatty curtains. Owen had managed to sleep a little bit but the restraints and the cold clamminess of the blanket kept waking him up. Owen glowered at the grinning man and turned his face away, refusing to give John the satisfaction.

John sniffed loudly when he got closer. “You should have said something,” he mocked, “now it looks like I failed in my hospitality.”

“Ha fucking ha,” Owen said.

John reached over and untied Owen’s legs. “Kick me and I’ll leave you to lie in more than just stale piss,” he said.

Owen glared and kept his legs still. John reached over him and released the handcuffs. As soon as the second one was free Owen lashed out and caught John in the ribs. He swung his wrist around and struck John in the head with the loose handcuff and made a dash for the door. His legs took some time to adapt and he stumbled, almost crawled towards freedom.

John’s body smashed into Owen and pinned him, slamming his face into the floor and breaking his nose. John flipped him over and grabbed him round the throat.

“Why’d you go and do that for?” John said. there was blood trickling down the side of his face from where the handcuffs had struck him and he didn’t look happy.

“Did you just expect me to lie down and let you kidnap me?” Owen said with a gasp as his air was cut off.

“Feisty,” John said, “I like that, but not too feisty or I’ll have to do something worse than tie you up.”

Owen froze when he felt John’s erection press into his hip. “Is this the only way you get your jollies is it?” he managed with a hint of scorn.

“I don’t take what’s not offered,” John said with offence. He let go of Owen’s throat and stood up, pulling Owen with him.

“So stealing that diamond, killing that woman and trying to kill us was different?” Owen said.

“I didn’t go to rehab for rape,” John said. “And the sexual harassment wasn’t enough to make them add another.” He pushed Owen through the open door and down the corridor. At the end was a small and very old bathroom. John shoved Owen into the bathtub and spitefully turned the shower on.

“Bloody hell,” Owen swore as icy water cascaded over his body. He hunched over shivering until the water warmed up enough. John tossed him a bar of soap and leaned against the sink as he washed. Owen flushed under the frank appraisal but tried to ignore it and enjoy the chance to be clean. He winced as the water hit the abrasions on his wrists and his nose but he determinedly continued.

When the water began to cool he turned it off and John tossed him a piece of towelling that looked well used but it was better than freezing. John took the towel off him afterwards and pressed it to his nose.

“This is going to hurt,” he said and twisted Owen’s nose straight.

Owen howled at the pain and swore as he waited for the spots to disappear from his vision.

“Would hate to ruin that pretty face,” John said checking him over critically. Owen avoided snorting knowing it would hurt and simply rolled his eyes. He looked pointedly at the toilet John had a foot resting on.

“Don’t let me stop you,” John said, lifting his foot.

“I’m not going with you in the room,” Owen objected.

“Then you’re not going,” John replied.

Owen growled and managed to take a piss with John leaning against the door smirking. He decided he hadn’t eaten enough to need anything else and he’d damn well live with any stomach cramps rather than crap in front of the bastard.

“Back to my cell then,” Owen said after he’d flushed and the whole cistern had sounded like it was going to shake apart. Owen’s lips had twitched at the noise and John was grinning but Owen’s expression hardened quickly.

John shrugged and led Owen back to the bedroom. John wrapped some torn off sheeting around his wrists before securing them behind his back with the handcuffs and using the rope to tie him to the bed with his legs free.

“Hope porridge is okay with you,” John said as if Owen was just a visitor, “I’m not the greatest in the kitchen, especially one as old as this house has. Luckily my backpacking adventures taught me the joys of microwavable food.” He tossed another tatty blanket over Owen and snagged the soiled one. He wandered off without waiting for a reply leaving Owen trying to figure out if he was doing it on purpose or he actually was mentally unbalanced.

Owen decided on mentally unbalanced when John returned with a bowl of porridge on a tray with a glass of orange juice, wearing a brightly coloured apron. John perched on the edge of the bed and lifted a spoonful of porridge to Owen’s lips.

Owen glared at John but opened his mouth and swallowed the porridge. Whatever was going to happen he needed his strength and god he’d missed taste so much. The porridge wasn’t too bad, John had drizzled honey on it and there were even sultanas in the mix. Once the bowl was empty John wiped the side of Owen’s mouth with a corner of the apron he was wearing.

“I have to pop out for a while,” John said, “You just make yourself comfortable.”

“You’re certifiable you know that don’t you?” Owen said as John untied the apron and pulled it off.

“Quite possibly,” John said, “but I’m the one who saved your sorry arse so what does that say? There’s no point in trying to escape,” he added, “we’re a long way from anywhere and you won’t make it far in your condition.”

“So where are we then?”

“Like I said, a long way from anywhere and some time from when you started too.”

“What does that mean?”

“Manipulator’s good but not perfect; we lost some time in transition but not too bad really. Once missed a job by a century,” John said as he wandered out leaving Owen more confused and frustrated than before.

Owen amused himself for a while going back through his old psych training notes in his head, trying to decide if John had a personality disorder or was just simply a nut bar (that’s a technical description that is) just in case he could use some of that knowledge. He’d steered clear of such thinking in the past unwilling to put his own behaviour under the spotlight. In the end he gave up trying to remember stuff from books that had bored him to tears anyway and tried to think of ways of escaping.

If John was telling the truth then he’d need to subdue the other man and get some clothes if he was going to have any chance. So that would mean playing nice and getting John to let his guard down. Every so often John had shown flashes of an interesting person and he did seem to like the sound of his own voice, so Owen figured he could play pretend long enough.

A few hours later and Owen was more than grateful to hear the annoyingly cheerful sound of John’s voice. He’d been staring at the ceiling counting the cracks and desperately trying to ignore the demands of his body and the throbbing pain around his nose.

“Honey, I’m home,” John said bounding up the stairs to the bedroom.

“Hello darling,” Owen drawled, “sorry I haven’t got dinner on the table but I’m a bit tied up at the moment.”

“And very fetching you look too,” John grinned and Owen fought back the glower he knew was forming on his face. His plan had to work; he had to get back to the others even if they did think he was dead.

“If you wouldn’t mind I could really do with using the bathroom,” Owen said, forcing himself to be civil.

“Of course,” John said, “you only have to ask.” He sounded almost put out as if Owen had deliberately kept quiet and he’d not been out for the entire day.

“Thank you,” Owen said as John untied him and escorted him to the bathroom. “Could you let me have some privacy, it’s not like I can go anywhere,” he added.

“Keep the door open,” John said, stopping at the entrance to the bathroom.

“Thank you,” Owen said gratefully. He waited until John ambled back towards the bedroom before sitting down happily to relieve the cramping in his guts.

Afterwards he took the opportunity to clean up a bit frowning at the blossoming bruise on his face and then, resisting the urge to make a break for it, went back to the bedroom. John was lounging on the bed and almost looked disappointed that Owen hadn’t tried anything.

“This bed is really uncomfortable,” John said, “how do you stand it?”

“Don’t have much of a choice do I?” Owen said sourly. It wouldn’t do to appear too compliant too soon.

John pursed his lips. “No you don’t.” He gestured to the bed and Owen sat down. John grabbed his wrists and looked critically at the abrasions from the handcuffs. “You’ll live,” he said, “but purple isn’t your colour. I’ve got painkillers.” He waved a packet at Owen. “What will you do for me for them?” he teased.

“I can tell you what I won’t do,” Owen said and John’s face fell.

“You know I thought Jack would hire friendlier people,” John complained. “You lot are all grump and tension.”

“You’ve tried to kill us and kidnapped me,” Owen said, “not much to be jolly about really.”

“Fine, be like that,” John said. He pushed Owen onto the bed and secured the handcuffs. He stood over Owen for a moment and then tossed the blanket over again. “How’s your gag reflex?” he asked suddenly.

“You’re never going to find out,” Owen said. John pouted again but took two of the pills and put them to Owen’s lips.

Owen wanted to bite those fingers, he really did, he just wasn’t sure if it would be worth it. He let John push the pills past his lips and swallowed them, gagging a little as they scraped down his throat.

“Not that great then,” John said. He left the room and Owen fought down the urge to call him back.

Slowly the painkillers began to work and Owen dozed off. He woke with a start to find John standing watching him.

For a brief moment there was something in John’s face that Owen didn’t recognise, but it was gone so quickly he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t a trick of the light.

“Hungry?” John said and Owen nodded. There was a tray of food sitting on the bed and Owen could smell curry. John unclipped the handcuffs and Owen struggled to sit up with his hands still cuffed in front. John lifted up a bowl of curry and offered Owen a spoonful.

“I could do it myself,” Owen grumbled but he submitted to John’s feeding without protest. This time John had a paper napkin to wipe the sides of Owen’s mouth.

When the bowl was empty John offered him a bottle of beer and didn’t insist on holding it. Instead he perched on the side of the bed and wolfed down the other bowl of curry.

“One thing you lot do well is curry,” John said through a mouthful.

“You and Jack are the most disgusting eaters I have ever seen,” Owen said, “is it part of your training or something?”

“Just the usual conditioning from times of want,” John said, “anyway, in some galaxies it’s considered very attractive.” His tongue darted out to lick around the edges of his lips and Owen couldn’t stop staring. The man really was good looking even if he was a bastard.

“You went without?” Owen kept the conversation going, “somehow I figured the future wouldn’t have those problems.”

“Humans will always have those problems,” John said, “They’re just greedy sons of bitches.”

“That’s a shame,” Owen said.

“Not really,” John replied, “makes them easier to con.” He scraped out the bowl to capture every last drop.

Owen forced his gaze from John’s lips struggling to think of something else. “Aren’t you human then?”

“On my mother’s side,” John replied putting the bowl aside and drinking his own beer with satisfaction. “Tell me about Jack,” he said suddenly, “how did he get all un-killable?”

“We don’t know for sure, he said he was killed then woke up alive again and now won’t stay dead. He tried to get it changed but it’s permanent.”

“I really hate him sometimes,” John said, “wasting that potential on a backwater like this world.”

“I’m rather fond of this backwater,” Owen said with a frown.

“There’s so much more out there Feisty, wonders you’d never believe. Planets dedicated to pleasure, gadgets and toys the like of which you’ve never seen. Things you couldn’t see in a thousand lifetimes and that moping bastard is sulking here.” John screwed his face up in annoyance.

“He likes it here and unlike some he has a sense of honour about protecting his adopted home.” Owen knew he shouldn’t bait John but he couldn’t just let John insult Jack and the Earth.

“Fair enough,” John said to Owen’s surprise. “Take’s a bit of getting used to this new Jack.”

“So he was different when you knew him?”

“Most stubborn bastard this side of the Arterean galaxy,” John said, “and the most ruthless as well as a really good fuck.” He smiled at the memory. “Taught me a thing or two and scared me to death a few times.”

“So that would be no,” Owen joked.

John tilted his head in thought. “Actually you’d be right. It’s the good him but it’s still him. That’s the scariest thing about him living forever. A manipulative bastard like him could rule the universe and he wouldn’t share if he did.” John pouted.

Owen couldn’t help but laugh at John’s expression. “So you really were partners in ‘every way’?” It wasn’t just about keeping John talking and creating a bond he could exploit now, Owen was genuinely curious.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” John said, “I wasn’t that thrilled to be partnered with him to start with, he had a bad reputation in the Agency but damn he’s pretty so I dealt with it. Then we got stuck in a time loop and had to deal with each other without escape. It was great when it was great and when it was bad it was fantastic.” He smirked at the memories.

“I’m surprised you didn’t kill each other,” Owen said.

“Who says we didn’t? Time loops are wonderful things.”

“I don’t think I will understand you or Jack in a thousand years,” Owen said with a huff.

“If you lived our life you would,” John said, “I could show you the stars Feisty.”

Owen let his expression reveal the curious longing he wasn’t even faking but knew it was too soon for John to believe him so shook his head. “I need the bathroom.”

John piled up the plates and hauled Owen to his feet. “Off you go then,” he said.

Owen didn’t need any further urging as he headed for the bathroom while John took the plates downstairs. To his surprise he found new towels and soap in the bathroom and took advantage of the privacy to get really clean.

Afterwards he knotted the towel around his waist and cautiously looked around upstairs to get his bearings. The other end of the corridor had two more bedrooms in an even worse state than the one he was sleeping in. The windows were just as small although one opened above a sloping roof over the front door that might break his fall if he had to. In the middle of the corridor was the stairs to the ground floor and Owen silently crept down to see what he could see without John noticing him. Doors came off the bottom landing but they were all closed. Owen had to assume they were standard front rooms and probably abandoned if the upstairs was anything to go by.

“Getting a good look?” John said mildly from behind him, “I certainly am.”

Owen spun around and saw John leaning against the doorway into the kitchen a tea towel in one hand and plate in the other.

“What did you expect?” Owen said embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed John.

“Nothing different,” John said, “you might as well join me then so I can keep an eye on you.” He turned back into the kitchen. Owen took one brief look at the front door before deciding he could do without another broken nose or worse and followed.

The kitchen was at least warm at he stood as close to the stove as he could while John finished the washing up.

“Isn’t this lovely and domestic?” John said. “Fancy a cuppa?” He filled the teakettle and put it onto the stove leaning past Owen to do so. There was a click and Owen found himself cuffed to John. “Just in case you get any ideas,” John said.

“If I hadn’t I would now,” Owen said with a growl.

“One thing I do know,” John said, “Jack wouldn’t hire stupid minions so I’m not going to let you roam around, besides it’s cosy.” He tugged Owen over to the kitchen table and dragged the second chair close enough for them both to sit down.

“It’s not cosy, it’s creepy,” Owen complained, “I’m naked and cuffed to a psychopath.”

“Well if nudity’s your problem…” John unzipped his jeans and wriggled out of them.

“What the hell are you doing?” Owen said as his arm was pulled about.

“Evening things out,” John said. His tee shirt dangled between them and then he was naked. Owen risked a quick glance down just out of curiosity and wasn’t disappointed, if he had cared which he didn’t.

John pulled over a tin of biscuits and offered them to Owen.

“Where do you sleep?” Owen said as they snacked on the biscuits.

“Want to keep me company?” John said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“Do you never turn it off?” Owen said with a sigh.

“Why would I want to?” John retaliated.

“You’re not sleeping upstairs,” Owen said, “I checked,” he admitted.

“Who says I sleep?” John said.

“You’re not Harkness so you have to sleep sometimes,” Owen said.

“He doesn’t sleep?” John looked surprised. “Another bloody drama queen moment.”

“Pretty much,” Owen said once again in accord with John to his surprise.

“I sleep in the other room,” John said nodding towards one of the rooms Owen hadn’t been able to look in.

“Far more comfortably than me I bet,” Owen grumbled.

The teakettle began to hiss on the stove so John stood up, dragging Owen with him. John lifted it off and Owen casually picked up the teapot. Taking a breath he swung it around hard and connected heavily with the side of John’s head. John crumpled to the floor and Owen stumbled on top of him.

Owen carefully checked to see if John really was unconscious. He’d hit the other man pretty hard but he wouldn’t put it past John to play dead just for fun.

Once he was sure he pulled John’s mouth open and felt around for anything unusual. With a bark of triumph Owen found the small pouch in John’s soft palate and fished out the key he’d really been hoping was there. He quickly freed himself from the cuffs and reattached them to the leg of the stove with a smirk.

In the front room he found a duffle with clothes stuffed inside and blessed the fact that John was a similar size. He also tucked the pistol he found in the bag into the back of the jeans he’d stolen. John’s boots were unfortunately not a similar size but there was a pair of Wellington’s by the back door he could fit.

John hadn’t been lying about them being in the middle of nowhere Owen decided after walking for what felt like hours and not seeing any other signs of life. He cursed the Time Agent and kept on walking.

As it started to get dark he finally saw a flash of light over a hill beside the road. When he’d scrambled up its slippery side he ducked back down again. The house he’d been hoping to see was instead a spaceship.

“Fuck,” he said grabbing the gun, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” Carefully he peered back over the edge of the hill wishing for more cover than he had. Four large aliens were spread out from the spaceship. They had what Owen hoped was armour over their bodies and all carried what had to be weapons.

He ducked back down again and cursed his luck. He was in the arse end of nowhere with a small pistol and a bunch of possibly hostile aliens, no phone and no backup. John bloody Hart had a lot to answer for.

As if conjuring him up out of the air Owen felt the cold press of a gun against the back of his head.

“That wasn’t very nice Feisty,” John hissed, “now look what you’ve gone and done.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Owen hissed back, “do you know who they are?”

“By the uniform I’d say Malarun Four soldiers, advanced guard,” John said. He was wearing the outfit Owen had first seen him in although the tee shirt was even worse off.

“Advance guard for an invasion fleet?” Owen said with a groan.

“See you are smart,” John said. “Their standard operating procedure is to catalogue a planet and if it’s declared useful then advance troops are sent down to test the planet’s defences before full scale harvesting begins.”

“Harvesting?” Owen really didn’t like that word.

“They’ll strip the planet of all resources starting with the main elements.”

“Elements?”

“Hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen,” John listed, “the big ones.”

“But Earth is protected,” Owen said, “why haven’t UNIT or Torchwood responded?”

“Something else must be occupying them,” John said.

“Something more important than an invasion fleet?” Owen demanded.

“Seems like this rock gets invaded every other week,” John replied, “don’t ask me I’m just a visitor. There was something going on when I went for food but I wasn’t really paying attention.” John scratched the side of his head with his gun. “Like I said it seems like this place has a sign up somewhere asking to be invaded.”

“How do we stop them?” Owen said.

“We?” John raised an eyebrow.

“You’re a big pile of those elements,” Owen said.

John tapped his wrist strap significantly but he peered back over the edge of the hill quickly.

“Normally the advance force is one ship with a crew of twenty,” he said suddenly sounding like a real captain and not the psycho Owen was used to, “they’ve spread out in a standard defensive formation so I’m guessing the others are already scoping out the area leaving those four to watch the ship. This could be our only chance.”

“To do what?”

“Subdue the guards, commandeer the ship and hunt down the rest of the crew. If they don’t report back your planet will get listed as uneconomic and left alone.”

“Simple then?”

“Simple.”

“With one gun…”

“Two, well four actually.”

“How did you escape the handcuffs anyway?”

“Never just have one key Feisty.” John smirked. “These guys are strong but not fast, they rely on their weapons too much which gives us a small edge. You are going to owe me big time at the end of this.”

Owen snorted. “So what do we do first Captain?”

“Divide and conquer. Their armour will deflect laser and sonic devices but they always forget about projectiles. We need to get close enough to put a shot into the gap under the chin for maximum penetration. I’ll take the two on the left you take the two on the right.”

John tossed him a second gun and moved off around the hill. Owen rolled his eyes, dying had not been on his agenda so soon after getting his heartbeat back but there wasn’t much of a choice. He snuck around to the right and tried to get as close as he could to the ship without being noticed.

John on the other hand didn’t seem to care so much about sneaking. He came striding down the slope guns blazing and dropped one of the aliens instantly. The other started firing back and John rolled to the ground to avoid the blasts. The other two spun around and Owen took the opportunity to run down the hill and get closer.

“Oi,” he called out when the other two drew weapons on John. One spun around and Owen fired aiming exactly where John had said and was gratified to see the alien fall. A burning pain across one arm told him the other one had got a shot off. He dropped his gun and cursed as the Malarunian sighted up for another shot. Owen dove for the cover of the ship and felt the heat of the blast cut across one shoulder.

He ducked back around the ship and let off a volley of shots, grateful that John didn’t favour six shooters. He caught a quick glimpse of John in hand to hand combat with his remaining soldier before another blast sizzled off the side of the ship. He heard John swear and there was another volley of weapon fire and then silence.

Owen held still straining to hear anything. Before he could move a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around slamming him into the side of the ship. His yell of shock was muffled by John’s warm lips. He was held in place and kissed thoroughly before he was able to shake free.

“I love a good fire fight,” John said with an unrepentant grin.

“You’re a lunatic,” Owen said fighting the urge to wipe his mouth in case it was paralysing lip gloss. It was a really good kiss though. “Do you know how to fly one of these?” he gestured to the spaceship.

“Of course I do,” John replied, “I can fly anything.”

He was of course exaggerating but he did know enough not to kill them and Owen got to use the very cool guns. He was grinning like a loon when John landed them out behind the cottage but not distracted.

They both pulled their guns at the same time freezing in place like an old Western. Then John relaxed and put his hands up letting his gun swing off one finger.

“You win Feisty; I’ll take you back to Jack and your narrow little world.”

Only the Hub was gone and nobody even really paid attention to the spaceship. A quick search through the news feeds left Owen bereft and feeling sick. A quick hack by John with his manipulator and what they saw even shocked him to silence. Another scan and John nodded unsurprised.

“Jack’s not on the planet anymore,” John said, “his manipulator was activated a couple of days ago and the trace signal goes off world.”

“Shit.” Owen sat down heavily on the rubble that had been the Hub.

“PC lips must be around somewhere,” John said sitting next to him.

“Don’t, just don’t,” Owen said. “How could the bastard just leave like that? After all his bullshit about protecting the Earth and he just leaves.”

“You don’t come out of what he did whole or sane,” John said, surprising them both by being the voice of reason. “Want to go and beat some sense into him?”

“You said he’d gone off planet.”

“Spaceship.” John nodded behind them.

“Oh yeah,” Owen blinked, “alright then.”

“You are going to love it out there Feisty,” John said and he was right.

END