Work Text:
This is Torchwood.
Torchwood argues a lot, because it's a husband, a wife, and a displaced office manager. They've visited eight different locations (four high rises, two townhouses, a bunker in someone's backyard, and Flat Holm) and they've been unable to agree on any of them. Except Flat Holm--none of them want to settle there.
There's been talk about rebuilding on the Hub, or moving out to Torchwood House, or even trying to track down Torchwood Four. None of them want to leave Cardiff. (This isn't entirely true: Lois does, but she's outnumbered by the Welsh and therefore keeps her opinion to herself.)
The choices are limited. Cardiff Castle is too conspicuous, the Plass is a wreck, and the Weevil population is running rampant. Nothing gets done, everything feels like it's fraying at the edges, and finally Lois goes behind Gwen's back, calls UNIT, and shows up at Rhys and Gwen's apartment one week later with a man in a red beret. "This is Alan Reed," Lois says. "Alan's an engineer; he's amazing with tech." She glances behind her. "He's not our only new hire. Gwen, I'm sure you remember Ms. Johnson. She'll take care of the Weevil problem."
Johnson doesn't work for UNIT, but they knew where to find her. She's agreed to freelance for Torchwood, and even though Gwen doesn't like it, Lois is the only one who knows how to successfully manage their finances--and though Gwen puts up a fight, in the end Lois has firm control of the hiring decisions. Alan sets up temporary Rift-tracking equipment in the back of one of Rhys's lorries, filling the inside with blinking blue lights and high-pitched noises. It drives Ruth mad until Alan installs soundproofing.
Lois never forgets that she has a few strings to pull with the British government, so while Rhys and Johnson are arm-wrestling, she makes one or two well-placed calls and within a few days there's construction going around the Welsh National War Memorial. "Foundational problems," the workmen say when they're asked. "Couple of crossed gas lines. Better stay back."
They manage to keep it from Rhys and Gwen, which is possible only because of increasing preoccupation with Gwen's impending childbirth. The blinking lights stay on in the lorry, but they're just for show; Alan's real work is constructing an invisible lift.
It's been nine months since the Hub exploded, and Johnson declines to accompany them when Torchwood (and baby Jamie, wrapped in a fuzzy yellow blanket) descend the lift into the new base. The walls are strong, the foundation is secure; it has an underground garage with a rather Batman-like secret driveway. The lights are bright but not sterile, and there is not a trace of mildew anywhere. "Welcome home, Gwen," Lois says. "Would you like to see your office?"