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Myfanwy 2

September 2018



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Time Trap - Chapter Five

Time Trap - Chapter Five
Author: Milady Dragon
Series: Dragon-Verse
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones; Patrick Delaware/Alice Carter; Martha Jones/Tom Milligan; Arthur (Harkness-Jones) Pendragon/Merlin Williams-Song; Clint Barton/Phil Coulson (Past); Owen Harper/Diane Holmes; John Hart/Cadi Harkness-Jones
Warnings: Language, Violence, Mpreg, Angst, Time Travel, Perceived Character Death
Spoilers: Up through Torchwood Series Three, through Agents of SHIELD Season One, for Captain America: The Winter Soldier, none really for Merlin, Doctor Who, and Sarah Jane Adventures.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, I would have treated it better.  Nor do I own Merlin, Doctor Who, anything in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, or the Sarah Jane Adventures.  Oh, or Josh Gates either, although I'd kinda like to.

Author's note:  This is the sequel to the story, "Decisions", and is a crossover between the Dragon-Verse Post-Series and the Future Adventures.  It's also "Captain America: The Winter Soldier" compliant and "Agents of SHIELD" season one compliant.

SummaryTorchwood London gets a surprise...a displaced time traveller who is the double for a long dead friend.  Meanwhile, the Cardiff Hub also plays host to a visitor that is somehow linked to the man in London.  Who is he, and what does his presence mean for the timelines?

3 June 2014


It was a full house at the Hub2 when Patrick, Clint, and Jack showed back up around 1pm.

“What’s up, people?” Patrick asked as the three of them entered into the main area of the former warehouse.

The rest of Torchwood London practically sprang to attention, and Patrick barely concealed his smirk. Sneaking up on them all was way too much fun.

By seemingly silent majority Luke reported first. “I finished the analysis on the metal of those knives, and they’re definitely not from Earth. They’re some sort of alloy with a metal that’s not terrestrial in origin, and is far stronger than anything I’ve ever seen.”

“That makes sense,” Jack mused. “We’re dealing with a displaced Imperial Shieldsman. They’d have the best weapons available.”

“I had everyone listen to the recording from your questioning of Pendragon,” Erisa said. “I think we’re all pretty much up-to-date with what our visitor claimed.”

“Thanks, Erisa,” Patrick said warmly.

“I can’t believe he really said his name was Pendragon,” Josh put in, sounding excited. But then, the former television presenter had a degree in archaeology as well as being Torchwood’s resident cryptozoologist and xenozoologist.

“At least his first name wasn’t Arthur,” Mickey quipped.

“Yes, we all know that’s where it comes from,” Josh went on, “but its etymological roots are what’s so interesting. It’s from the Welsh, and it means ‘head dragon’ or ‘chief dragon’. I don’t think we can accept that it’s coincidence that he’s here now, when the last of the dragons isn’t all that far away and is Welsh to boot.”

Patrick could feel his father-in-law’s shock just as well as Patrick could his own. He regarded Jack. “What do you think?”

Jack growled. “I think I might want to speak to him again.”

“I think you’re overlooking something here,” Martha put in.

“What?” Clint asked. He still looked a bit rough from the surprises from earlier, but at least he seemed to be coping pretty well.

“I got the DNA analysis back,” the doctor answered. “The man in that room is human…with some unknown alien genes added.”

“That makes sense,” Jack said. “By his time, humans and aliens had been interbreeding for generations. Even I have some alien DNA in me. Not a lot, but some.”

“Yes, but I also decided to compare the results to Patrick’s,” she admitted. “And there’s a match.”

Patrick suddenly felt like sitting down. “A match?” he asked weakly.

“Enough of one that I can say with certainty that they’re related, yes,” Martha confirmed.

“You’re saying our guest is a descendant of Patrick’s?” Jeff Cable asked incredulously. The former SHIELD agent ran a hand through his dark hair, which was a nervous habit he had.

“It would explain why he looks so much like Phil Coulson,” Jack said. “It would also explain the first name; it could be a family name in the future.”

That made sense, since Patrick and Alice had named their daughter Grace Phillipa, her middle name taken from the uncle she’d never get to know.

“I’d like to do a better examination at some point,” Martha added. “He really wouldn’t let me last night. He’d only let me set his arm. He even undressed in private.”

“Wait a sec,” Mickey scoffed. “What happened to the swinging 51st century?”

Jack shrugged. “He could be from some sect or planet that values their bodily privacy. They do still exist in the future; it’s just there aren’t many of them around anymore.”

Patrick barely followed their conversation. His mind was racing. A descendant of his from the future? Was it from Gracie, or from another child that he and Alice hadn’t had yet? A part of him was excited to know that his family continued that far into the future, but at the same time his brain was having a hard time dealing with it. Up until now, the future had been an abstract concept; he’d understood that his very father-in-law had been born in the 51st century, but it was a bit different having to accept that someone who’d come from his own family that far ahead was actually there, in the Hub2, a person who didn’t even speak the same language that Patrick did.

It was truly mind-boggling.

He felt a hand on his shoulder; it was Clint, and there was a look on his face that was equal parts awe and shock. “It’s a validation,” his friend whispered, the better to not interrupt the debates going on around them. “Gracie lives to carry on your family line, and then some day someone in that line comes back here to prove that the Delaware name continues on.”

“Hardly the Delaware name, since his surname is Pendragon.” Patrick felt strangely bitter about that.

“But Patrick…don’t you get it? You and Alice are related by marriage to a real fucking dragon…it only makes sense that at some point they embrace that connection. I can’t help but think this is a really good thing.”

Clint was correct. Patrick had to see this as proof that his own line continued far into the future, still going strong to produce someone who would become a bodyguard to the Imperial family.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hand. Here was the evidence he’d always wanted that his family would be safe and would survive and hadn’t realised he’d needed it until it was staring him in the face. He nodded to Clint, silently letting him know what his words meant, that Patrick understood completely what all of this intimated. Clint smiled faintly, squeezed his shoulder, and then jerked his head toward the ongoing discussion around them.

Yes, it was time to get things back on track.

“Okay, everyone,” he called out over the hubbub. Everyone fell silent; even Clyde, who’d obviously been in the middle of some sort of argument with Mickey about future tech they didn’t even have. “I’m officially letting the tertiary team head on home, but you’ll all be on call. I don’t know if whoever it was who brought Pendragon here will come back to try to finish the job on him, but we need to be on guard.”

That got him nods from the five members of the tertiary team, although Jeff looked as if he wanted to argue.

Patrick cut him off. “Jeff…you, Cassie, and Santiago are in the middle of your investigation into the alien black market, and I don’t want you to put that on hold just because we have a visitor from the future. You’re all on duty tonight, so get some rest and be back on point at 10pm. Santiago, don’t you have that meeting with that artefact hunter?”

Santiago nodded. “You’re right,” he said in his faintly accented English. “I can’t afford to miss this. I doubt the chance will come round again and we really need to get an in to the gang behind the artefact trade.”

Jeff looked mollified; of all of tertiary team, he was the one who’d worked hardest on getting inside the black market, and Patrick had let him have free rein over the operation, trusting him to do his very best job. He and Cassie were nearly an unstoppable team when it came to field work. That work had to continue if they had any chance in stopping the alien weapons’ trade.

“Jack,” Patrick went on, “you want to go and question our guest some more?”

His father-in-law nodded. “It would seem Pendragon is keeping a few things from us, and while I’m positive it’s because of timeline issues I still want to get some clarification.”

“Everyone else…I know you all have work to do,” Patrick said to the group who would be remaining at Hub2. “There’s still the reports from last night that’ll be due.” That earned him a few groans. “Martha and Luke, are you still running tests on our guest and his belongings?”

“I’m working on his clothes and the shield generator,” Luke replied.

“And I still want to get a full-body exam done,” Martha added.

“Jack can let Pendragon know he’ll be expected to cooperate,” Patrick assured her.

“No problem,” Jack said.

“Let’s get to work, then.”


Patrick lost track of time trying to get his own paperwork done, and only looked up when Jack came into his office and sprawled across the guest chair, sighing heavily.

“Not go well?” he asked, tossing his pen down onto the blotter.

“You could say that,” Jack answered. “Pendragon flatly refuses to let Martha do a complete physical on him, citing religious reasons. Apparently he’s a member of the Ordoni sect, and they have strict rules against being naked in front of strangers…especially strangers of the opposite sex.”

“And does it?”

“No idea.” His father-in-law shrugged. “I know there are such sects and races out there in my time, but I honestly didn’t pay much attention to them. It was no fun if you couldn’t get them into bed…or at least I used to think that way. Guess I’ve spent too much time being repressed by Earth’s outdated morality where sexuality is concerned.”

Like that was true; after all, Jack was sleeping with an honest-to-God dragon. Patrick doubted he could count on one hand the number of 21st century humans who would be willing to do that. “This won’t make Martha happy.”

“Pendragon says he’d be willing to answer any questions she has, within reason. He just refuses to let her do anything more…personal.”

“There’s always the deep tissue scanner, and he wouldn’t even have to take off his clothes for that.”

Jack rubbed his chin. “That would work. I bet he’d go along with it.”

“Did you make any other headway?”

“Afraid not. I did ask about his family name, and he said there’d always been a Pendragon in the Shieldsmen since the 37th century. He doesn’t have any idea where they got the name.”

That was disappointing. Patrick had been curious just when Delaware had been replaced by Pendragon, and why. “Is he aware that, chances are, we won’t be able to return him to his own time?”

“He is. In fact, he was the one who confronted me about it, and I didn’t want to lie to him.” Jack made a disgusted face. “It wouldn’t be a problem if we’d gotten Gray’s wrist strap back from UNIT. We could have used that, and gotten it back to where it belonged.”

Patrick nodded. He recalled just how angry Jack had been to have been dragged back into another of the Doctor’s schemes, especially that day when the note had come to practically order his boss to give up his precious Vortex Manipulator to the Black Archive, all because of some timey whimey plan that the Time Lord had cooked up. Instead of giving his up, he’d sent Gray’s; after all, it had been sitting in Cardiff’s Secure Archives ever since Jack’s crazy brother had been apprehended, but it had meant that hadn’t had it the times it had been needed.

Jack had – perhaps childishly, but Patrick wasn’t about to point fingers – confiscated the Time Lord painting, Gallifrey Falls No More, from the museum it had ended up in. The curator had been more than happy to let it go, although he’d seemed a bit smug about it. It now had pride of place in the front hall of Torchwood House.

“We should probably start the intake process pretty quickly.” Jack looked at Patrick as if he was trying to read his mind, and Patrick hated that; it made him feel like a naughty little kid. “I think it’s best that I take him back to Cardiff and let Deborah handle it.”

“You don’t think we can handle it ourselves?” Patrick was outraged on behalf of his team. They’d handled alien intake before, and had done it well; Tish and Rani were the ones he trusted to make certain that anyone stranded on the planet was helped to assimilate into Earth culture and customs. They’d only had one problem, but the other times had gone near-flawlessly.

Jack shook his head. “Patrick, you know how much I trust you and your teams. But even you have to admit this is a completely different circumstance here. That man so closely resembles Phil Coulson that it would only be a matter of time before either you or Clint became compromised. And, while I’m fairly certain you could pull yourself out of it, I’m not that sure about Clint. He lost Coulson twice: once because their jobs got in the way, and by the time he’d realised anything there’d been someone else in Coulson’s life; and the second time to a mad alien with delusions of grandeur and a mind-controlling spear. And you know he blames himself for both times, even though there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to prevent either.”

Of course, Jack was correct.

Patrick had tried so hard to hate Audrey Nathan, thinking that she’d stolen Clint’s place in his uncle’s heart. In the end he couldn’t, simply because she’d made his uncle happy. And it wasn’t even her fault; she hadn’t come between Uncle Phil and Clint, since that break-up had occurred at least a year before his uncle had even met the cellist, and it had been such an inexorable thing that really no one could have been blamed, except for perhaps Nick Fury, who in the end had been the one to send them on separate assignments until they’d simply lost track of each other.

As for Loki…yes, Clint still bore the guilt of that, even after the last two years. It had gotten much better since he’d quit SHIELD and the Avengers and had come to London, but there had always been that niggling doubt in his friend that Patrick would see every once in a while, and he and Alice had tried so hard to help him heal. In a way, SHIELD falling and HYDRA being exposed had made things worse, making Clint wonder just who he’d been responsible for killing…the good guys or the bad.    And he still could recall the day Clint had made the comment that he was glad that Phil had died before seeing what had happened to SHIELD…the expression of horror on the archer’s face when he’d realised just what he’d said had nearly broken Patrick’s heart.

“I offered to let Clint transfer temporarily to Cardiff,” he murmured, rubbing his forehead to ward off the incipient headache that had suddenly developed in light of Jack’s revelation.

“And of course he wouldn’t take it.”

“Of course not.”

Jack smiled sadly. “You really can’t fault his loyalty.”

“He’s one of the most loyal people I know.” It was true. When Clint had come to join Patrick in London, it had struck him immediately that Clint would have given his life for Patrick himself, as well as Alice, Grace, and Steven. They were his family…but more than that, they were Phil Coulson’s family, and that meant more to him than anything.

It had taken Clint a while to trust the team that Patrick had helped put together, with the exceptions of Martha, Ianto, and Tosh, whom he’d been introduced to during that business at CERN. But slowly he’d come to include them in his new family as well, along with the rest of the Cardiff team, whom he’d met before at Patrick and Alice’s wedding. Trust had come easier for the archer where Ianto had been concerned, having been raised on stories of the magical when he’d been living with the circus he’d been ‘adopted’ by.

“Okay,” Patrick capitulated. “You’re right.” He shook his finger in Jack’s direction. “But don’t let it go to your head.”

Jack smirked, although it had a tired cast to it. “I’m sure Ianto will puncture my ego before it gets too big.” Then he sobered. “I’ll call Diane in a bit and have her fly back down to pick us up. I’d anticipated staying for several days when I’d sent her back to Cardiff, but I think this is the better plan. The sooner I can escort Pendragon to Cardiff and put him in Deborah’s capable hands, the quicker we can go back to business as usual. And maybe he’ll let Owen do a more complete physical than Martha would ever get from him.”

Patrick nodded. It really was the best thing to do, even if there was a part of him thinking this was a defeat on his part, and on the part of his teams. It really wasn’t; Jack was absolutely correct in taking Pendragon back to the main Hub and letting his own team – especially Deborah, who was uniquely suited to help time-stranded refugees – handle getting the man settled into this century while Jack would help him with learning English.

He was just about to verbally agree with Jack’s plan when his office door was flung open, revealing a slightly breathless Josh Gates. “We’ve got a ping,” he reported.

Patrick’s heart sped up just a little. “Where?” he asked, standing and reaching into his desk drawer for his favourite gun…no matter what other weapons he used, he’d always have that soft spot for his original FBI-issued Glock, although it hadn’t always been so. He slid it into its holster as Jack was also on his feet, his own Webley drawn and being checked.

He didn’t bother to check the back-up gun at his ankle; but then, Patrick really didn’t need to. Nor did he pat himself for the several knives he had hidden on his person. He’d learned early on not to give his weapons’ stashes away, not if he didn’t want them taken away from him.

“St James Square,” Josh reported, moving out of the way as both Patrick and Jack left the office. “On one of the taller buildings. Luke thinks it might be Buchanan House judging from the height.”

“What sort of ping?” Jack inquired.

“Temporal,” the cryptozoologist answered. “Think it might be a friend of our guest?”

“Too much of a coincidence to rule that out.” If it was, then it meant they’d need to head whoever or whatever it was causing the alert off before anyone got hurt.

It looked as if Jack taking Pendragon into his custody and transferring him to Cardiff was becoming a better and better idea.


Torchwood London’s state-of-the art SUV rolled to a halt in front of Buchanan House, a tall and imposing office building on the east side of St James Square. As it was during business hours, there were cars parked on either side of the street, and Patrick slid the larger vehicle practically onto the curb by Buchanan House’s front entrance, not caring that he was parking illegally. The number plate on the SUV was a special number dedicated to Torchwood vehicles, approved by Her Majesty herself, and it meant that, no matter how badly Patrick drove, he’d never get pulled over.

Which, in his opinion and that of his teammates, was not a bad thing, or else he’d have lost his license ages ago. Patrick had never really quite grasped the intricacies of British traffic laws.

He got out of the car, followed by Jack from the front passenger seat, as well as Josh and Mickey from the rear. Patrick took the lead, with his father-in-law at his shoulder, as they entered the foyer of Buchanan House, bypassing the front desk and heading toward the emergency stairs, kindly marked with a large, friendly green sign.

No one seemed to want to stop them, but then Patrick had just parked as if he’d owned the road and even he had to admit the four of them cut an intimidating picture: Jack in his greatcoat, Josh being an imposing presence, both in bulk and height, and Mickey glowering at anyone who happened to meet his gaze. Patrick didn’t even know what his own expression was, but it must have been just a bit scary judging from the workers who got out of their way. It most likely helped that each of them was visibly armed.

Patrick pushed the steel door open, and the sound of heavy boots echoed through the stairwell as he and his team took the steps at a run, heading toward the roof. If what Luke had deduced was true, then whatever had come through time would be up there, if it wasn’t gone already. Patrick had put the Hub2 on partial lockdown in case this was connected with Pendragon…and really, what else could it be?

Buchanan House was only five stories, so it didn’t take them long to get to the roof access. Patrick stopped and motioned to his team, silently telling them to be ready. Then he looked at Jack, who was leaning forward, his wrist strap open, pushing buttons as he used the device to disengage the lock. There was a faint click, and Jack nodded, fading back and letting Patrick lead the way.

Guns were pulled from various holsters, and Torchwood London’s leader held up three fingers. Slowly, he curled them in, counting down.

When he reached one, Patrick slammed his shoulder against the metal door that led to the roof. The four of them fanned out in different directions, searching for whatever it had been that had set off Luke’s sensor network.

“Now, this is what I call a greeting!” exclaimed a very familiar voice.

Patrick bit back a curse as he turned in the direction Josh had gone. Making his way around a ventilation stack, he saw someone he’d hoped never to meet again, staring down the barrel of Josh’s gun as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

Jack joined him, followed by Mickey, and the captain didn’t stifle the bad language at all. Josh raised an eyebrow at their Director’s tirade; it wasn’t something any of them heard happen very often. “I take it you know this guy,” Josh said, not phrasing it as a question at all.

The headache that Patrick had been nursing came back in full force even as he holstered his weapon. “I wish I didn’t,” he sighed.

The man in the red vintage military jacket looked offended. He put his hand over his heart. “I am wounded,” he moaned, “wounded to the quick. Is that any way to speak to someone who saved that rather glorious arse of yours?”

“Yeah,” Patrick snarked, “after you got it shot in the first place.” Just when he’d thought it couldn’t get worse…

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friends?” the man asked petulantly. “None of them are blond though…you still have that lovely blonde counter girl back in Cardiff I hope? A team is only as good as the blonde who’s on it, after all…and Goddess, was she good…”

As it looked like Jack wasn’t in any mood to give the introductions, Patrick figured he should, so his team would know who they would be killing if things went to hell…which, they were very likely to. “Josh Gates…Mickey Smith…meet John Hart.”

Hart gave both men a seductive smile and a coy little wave.

God, this sucked…

Chapter Six



Oh - now Hart's thrown into the mix, things just got more complcated
Things are always much more fun when Hart's around! *laughs*
Oh boy, and here comes John bloody Hart...
Yep, and he comes to sexually harass at the team. Cause you know that's the real reason he does anything. :)
Just skip the formalities..kick him in the nuts!

(don't get me wrong..deep down I love John Hart...I always go for the bad boys)

Edited at 2015-01-27 10:22 am (UTC)
That might be a possibility! I know Jack wouldn't mind!

Oh, I adore John Hart. He's so much fun to write!
oh wonderful.
He's more trouble than he's worth. :(

Next chapter, please! :)
Can't wait to read how this plays out.
He really is, isn't he?? *laughs*

More up in a few. :)
of course, the next chapter comes back in 2014 ... we'll have to wait for explanations of Franklin (like the tortoise?)
and, in addition, Hart is now!
it is served by diversion ...
that keeps the Hub?

I have the chance to continue my reading, but you love to play with the nerves of your readers !! LOL