Having spent several winters in Chicago, Harry had been under the impression that he was pretty used to frigid weather. But the wind that hit him as he walked along the pier mercilessly cut through Harry’s body. His thick leather jacket, which had served him well enough in the past, now felt so flimsy against the weather that the wizard figured he might as well have been without it for all the good it did him.

As he approached the Plass, his eyes scanned over the other people who were out and about despite the time and temperature. Eventually, his gaze fell on the tall water tower he recalled having landed next to the last time he’d traveled to Cardiff via a transportation spell. Standing just at the foot of the tower was Jack Harkness. He was wearing a long coat that Harry vaguely recognized as something belonging to the World War II era. It made him look substantially larger than the wizard remembered him being.

Jack’s eyes had locked onto Harry the minute the wizard had entered the Plass. The fact that the man was over six foot and currently carrying a hockey stick didn’t exactly make him hard to miss. But Jack did feel a small spark of surprise when Harry had scanned the area and spotted him straight away, despite the fact that he was standing right over the lift. The perception filter didn’t work on the wizard. It wasn’t completely unheard of, but Jack noted it in his mind as he watched Harry approach him.

“Good to see you again,” Jack greeted Harry with a wide smile.

“Same,” Harry returned, shaking the offered hand.

“Thanks for agreeing to come in so late at night.”

“Yeah, not a problem,” Harry replied. “So…should we?” He gestured toward the tourist office and made to move forward when Jack caught his arm.

“Different way in this time,” said the captain. When he flashed his smile again, Harry was reminded of toothpaste ads. “Tourist entrance.”

“Tourist…?” The wizard barely had time to finish before he felt the ground beneath his feet lurch. They were going down into the ground. “The hell?” As his chest leveled to the cement he realized no one was staring at the fact that two grown men were sinking into the floor. “Uh…is this like an everyday occurrence here?” he asked.

Jack chuckled beside him.

Toshiko waited in the main area of the Hub as the lift descended. She took in the tall man standing next to Jack, clutching a battered hockey stick and felt her skepticism increase. He didn’t exactly look like a wizard. But then again, it’s not like she had something to compare him against.

“Harry Dresden,” Jack introduced. “This is Toshiko Sato.”

At the mention of her name, Tosh saw some recognition flicker through the wizard’s dark eyes before he wrapped one large hand around hers. “Nice to meet you,” he said, warmly. The smile he gave her was genuine and unexpectedly disarming. Seeing it, Tosh felt a spike of guilt at having uncovered his entire life behind his back.

“And since we’re doing introductions,” Jack added to Harry. Tosh stared uncomprehendingly as the wizard’s eyes flickered toward her before he nodded. She watched and didn’t comment when he slipped the knapsack off his shoulder and spoke into it as he reached inside.

“Bob, come out and meet the pretty lady.”

There was a flash of light from within the dark green bag as sparks and smoke rose up from within it. Tosh involuntarily took a step back and then took two more when the smoke dissipated, leaving a man standing next to Harry in its wake. Her eyes wide, she stared at the new arrival. He looked like something out of a Dickens novel to Tosh and it was with some effort that she glanced away from the pale eyes to the object Harry now held in his hands.

“The skull!” she exclaimed, seeing the familiar bones.

“And this is the ghost that comes with it,” Harry introduced, earning a look from Bob. “Bob, this is Ms. Sato.”

“Toshiko,” Tosh said, in slight awe. The Hub suddenly felt a little colder and she wrapped her arms around herself, fighting back an impulse not to continue backing away.

If the ghost noticed her discomfort, he didn’t show it as he instead inclined his head toward her. “Pleasure, Ms. Sato,” he said. He had a rich British accent that matched everything else about him. He wore a dark suit and ascot that contrasted sharply with the shock of white hair and pale complexion. And while he looked somehow more solid than Eugene Jones had been, there was a sensation that came off the figure that was all together more eerie and faintly disturbing.

“You’re a ghost?” Tosh couldn’t help but blurt out. Her own question sounded inane to her, but at the moment, she was too busy trying to wrap her mind around everything.

As if to prove her question, Bob extended his pale fingers and moved them through the skull in Harry’s hands. They passed through with a soft sigh.

“Okay,” Jack announced, loudly, breaking Tosh out of her stare. “Now that introductions are done. Let’s get down to business.” He spoke with a blasé air, as if ghosts and wizards moved through the Hub all the time and Tosh wanted to smack her boss as soon as laugh at his ability to make anything seem like it was no big deal.

“I have a few questions I’ll need answered before we go downstairs,” said Harry, roving his gaze to include Toshiko in his statement.

“Let’s go to my office for that,” Jack suggested, already guiding Harry to move in front of him. “Tosh, stick around and I’ll call you when we’re ready.”

While Tosh obediently nodded, Harry frowned. “I have some questions to ask her too,” he said. “It’d be easier if I could just do it all in one go.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” assured Jack, gently but firmly pushing the wizard toward the direction of his office. “You’ll get a chance.”

Tosh watched the three men moved toward the metal stairs leading to the landing. The ghost named Bob seemed to move like any normal human, going up the stairs one step at a time, albeit gingerly and taking care to stay a little apart from Harry and Jack. She wasn’t sure if the very human movements were comforting or even more disturbing.

“It would save some time if I could just interview you both at the same time,” Harry insisted as he sat down in a chair opposite the desk in Jack’s office. There were random objects scattered across the top of the desk along with neatly stacked piles of paper. Unlike Harry’s desk, it looked like someone had, at least at some point, attempted to organize the mess. Bob stood silently next to Harry’s seat, but bent slightly at the waist to get a better look at a small, coral object that stood next to the desk lamp.

Jack shrugged out of his greatcoat and hung it up before taking his seat. The lean face still had a friendly demeanor, but past experience had taught Harry to look beyond that. And beyond the friendliness, the wizard could see a steeliness that quietly demanded obedience.

“Like I said,” Jack stated. “You’ll get a chance to talk to her. But I want to go over a few things with you before then. Both of you,” he added, glancing at Bob. Silently, Harry gave a curt nod. “From the last time you were here and from what Bob was able to see before you came to get him, I’m sure you’ve got at least a general picture of what Torchwood does and what it is.”

“Kind of,” Harry answered. He glanced up at Bob, who gave him an agreeing shrug.

Leaning forward, Jack folded his hands on the desk. “But what I want to clarify for you is that you’re here to do a job for me, not Torchwood.” He paused to watch Harry take in his words. “I’m your client.”

“We were under the impression that the possible haunting was affecting your entire organization,” Bob put in.

“That’s beside the point,” Jack dismissed, firmly. “I’m the one who’s hired you. I’ll be paying you. And you’ll be working for me.”

“And what does that mean exactly?” Harry asked, not bothering to hide his unease or suspicion.

“It means that you’ll be able to conduct your investigation as you see fit,” Jack replied. “But your contact with the rest of the team will be minimal. As in, Tosh will be the only other person.”

Harry waited a beat, holding the unblinking gaze Jack was giving him. “And what if in the course of my investigation, I see fit to talk to the rest of your team?” he asked, slowly. If his question sounded vaguely threatening, he mentally patted himself on the back.

The look Jack gave him wasn’t cold exactly. But it was no longer trying to be friendly either. “It won’t come to that,” he said. “Tosh was directly affected so you’ll talk to her. But no one else has been so they’re not part of the equation.”

“I thought you said she took a stab at someone else on your team,” Harry said.

“But he hasn’t been in contact with the ghost himself,” Jack answered, unwavering. The captain shifted in his seat. “Look, Harry,” he said in a softer tone. “Whatever questions you might have about the ghost or how he ended up here, you only need to ask me. I want the problem dealt with quickly and that’s more than enough incentive for me to answer you truthfully and in good detail.”

The sudden switch in his demeanor gave the wizard mental whiplash and he was starting to suspect that the change of gears was tactical. Whatever small good feeling he had about taking on this case, decreased just that much more. But he was here and if there really was a ghost, trapped and unable to move forward like the other one, Harry couldn’t just walk away from it. Not after what happened with Christine Graham.

“Okay,” the wizard agreed, slowly. “You’re my client.”

Jack gave him a smile that Harry was rapidly beginning to find devious. “Good. So, what do you need from me?”

Harry bit back the first sarcastic answer that floated into his head and geared his mind to being professional. “You have an idea of who this ghost is?” he asked.

Jack nodded. “The woman you helped last time you were here. The one who killed her also killed another man.” Opening a drawer, he pulled out a file and handed it over to Harry. “This is the information we have on him.” Harry took the folder without opening it up.

“How did he die?”

For a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossed Jack’s face before he gave an imperceptible sigh. “Do you know anything about an attack that happened in London about two years back?” he asked. Harry vaguely remembered something about a terrorist attack being reported on the news, but nothing beyond what was sadly becoming the norm these days in the world. When he told Jack as much, he got a smirk from the captain that didn’t reach his eyes. “It was an alien attack,” he said. “There’s a race of beings called Cybermen. They’re sentient cyborgs whose mission in life is to take over worlds by converting the inhabitants into their own kind. They invaded London through a branch of this organization.” A shadow crossed the captain’s eyes. “It was a massacre. Hundreds of people died with only a handful of survivors.”

“How is it that the rest of the world didn’t know?” Bob inquired.

“Torchwood’s hand stretches a long way,” Jack answered. The ghost couldn’t tell if he sounded proud of that or not. “One of the survivors works for me now. And he ended up bringing one of the cyberman with him when he came.”

“I thought you said they lived to kill and convert,” Harry interrupted. “Why would he bring one here?”

“It was a mistake,” Jack said, sharply before he gave a small sigh. “The cyberman…woman. Was his girlfriend. She’d been only halfway converted, which was enough. But he thought there was a chance he could save her.” To his mild surprise, for the first time this evening, a look of something akin to sympathy graced the wizard’s features.

Still standing next to him, Bob said quietly, “I assume he was unable to help her.”

Jack shook his head. “No,” he answered the ghost. “It was too late. And she nearly killed everyone.” Turning his attention back to Harry, he indicated the folder sitting in the other man’s lap. “Dr. Tanizaki was an expert in cybernetics. Ianto brought him here in hopes he’d be able to help. But he was killed when the cyberman grew too strong.” Finally, Harry opened the file in his hands and began to leaf through the papers with the necromancer looking over his shoulder. “He’s the ghost down there,” Jack continued with certainty. “I saw him once before.”

Harry paused in his perusal of the file when he came to a small black and white photo of the scientist. “When did his family collect his body?” he asked. “It says here he has a wife and a son back in Japan.”

“They didn’t collect the body,” Jack answered. “Not his real one. We keep all victims of Torchwood here.”

Harry looked up, sharply. “You’re serious? You keep the bodies?”

“It’s protocol,” replied Jack, coldly.

"So what did you tell his family?"

"They'd planned on cremating him to begin with," Jack informed. "They were given an urn with ashes. The car accident that took Dr. Tanizaki, unfortunately, left very little in the way of a presentable body as we told them." Harry stared at him, his dark eyes simmering with disbelief and undisguised disgust. "You think it'd be easier if they knew the truth?" Jack challenged.

The wizard opened his mouth to retort, but instead looked back down at the file. “Well, that’s one possibility his spirit’s still here," he said with forced civility.

“Annie Braithwaite’s body is still here as well. And you were able to exorcise her,” Jack pointed out.

“Every ghost’s different,” the wizard informed, darkly. “Like every person.” He rifled through a few more papers. “This member of your team, Ianto,” Harry recalled. “Is he the one who got attacked?” Jack gave a nod and watched as the other man’s lips thinned in thought. “Okay,” Harry said, closing the file with a snap. “I need to talk to Toshiko.”

The general feel of the room was tense when Toshiko entered Jack’s office. But despite that, Harry gave her a kind smile as he got up to offer her the chair he’d been sitting in. Tosh waved off the gallantry and instead grabbed a spare one from the corner. She pulled it toward Harry, but kept back as far as she felt was polite. Her earlier apprehension at being around the spirit from the skull hadn’t lessened any and while his demeanor was nothing but cordial, she felt a near childish fear of him, as if at any moment he might be able to somehow attack her. Unconsciously, she shifted her seat a little closer to Jack’s.

Sensing her increasing discomfort, Bob casually moved a little away from where Harry sat to give them greater space.

“I’d appreciate it if you could take me through what happened when you went downstairs to the basement,” Harry began. “Take your time, there’s no rush.”

His gentle handling of her could have been a little condescending coming from the wrong person. But the wizard’s tone was only respectful and Tosh found herself relaxing a little. Quickly, but carefully she took him through the events. His expression betrayed nothing when she talked about the cold shock she felt when she’d reached for the generator box. When she got to the part where she’d actually grabbed the knife, her voice faltered.

“Can you remember what you were thinking when you took the weapon?” Harry asked, taking the opportunity in the break in her narrative.

Hesitantly, Tosh shook her head. “I…I feel like I wasn’t thinking anything. I was just so…angry,” she remembered. “It felt like there was this volcano surging inside my chest. And all I wanted to do was just lash out.”

“To Ianto in particular or just in general?” inquired Harry.

“I can’t remember,” Tosh confessed. The fact was, her memory of the specific event itself was starting to fade a little in her mind. She could only remember with clarity was Ianto holding a coffee mug toward her. And the next she was being held back by Owen and Gwen, the knife bloodied and clutched in her hand. And the rage…she’d felt such rage.

The technician shook a little at the memory, but refocused back on Harry. “Jack told me you said ghosts can’t possess people,” she said.

Harry nodded. “That’s right.”

“But if that’s the case then it would mean that what I did came from inside of me somehow,” she concluded, worryingly. She felt Jack at her side, silently pressing a hand to hers.

“No, it doesn’t mean that,” the wizard disagreed, gently. “Ghosts can’t possess people, but they can still influence people. Their essence can be pretty powerful and with certain ghosts that’s more effective than a possession.” Harry jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the necromancer who remained hanging back. “Bob’ll tell you. He’s done tons of stuff to freak me out when I’ve annoyed him.”

It was meant to be a joke and Bob gave Tosh a small smile, which she returned with a wary one of her own. “Although there’s no power on earth to inspire Harry to clean his apartment,” the ghost mentioned.

“So if Tanizaki’s ghost can affect people, why’s he doing it now?” Jack interjected. “We’ve all been down in the basement before. Maybe not in that room, but we’ve all been down there. Why is he acting up now?”

“Are you still having power issues?” Harry asked.

“Off and on,” Tosh answered for him. “From what Owen tells me,” she added when Jack gave her a surprised glance. “I haven't been here for two days, but he said it doesn’t last long though.”

“And I’ve ordered for no one else to go downstairs,” Jack added.

Harry mulled the information over in his head. “Right,” he murmured. “Okay, I’m going to have to take a look in that room. But first I’d like a minute with Bob to go over some stuff.”

“Stuff?” Jack inquired.

“Yeah, wizard stuff,” Harry answered, pointedly.

“I’m starting to dislike that guy,” Harry told Bob when they were left in the conference room to talk alone.

The necromancer raised an eyebrow. “Because you had such warm feelings for him before?”

“He’s a control freak,” the wizard declared with a grimace as he glared at the door Harkness had just exited. What he'd learned about Torchwood's policies and their treatment of Tanizaki's family had hardly endeared Jack to him.

“Are you certain it’s not your own adversity to authority speaking?”

“Maybe,” Harry considered, taking a seat in one of the many chairs. “Still doesn’t change the fact that he’s a control freak. This is why I don’t work for a company. Bureaucratic crap.”

“Because there are so many companies in need of your services?”

“Fine,” Harry snapped. “But even if they did, I still wouldn’t.”

Bob snorted. “Noted for the future.”

“So what do you think?” Harry asked, turning his attention back to the case. “According to Captain Iron Fist, Tanizaki died almost a year ago. And he hasn’t tried to make contact since we got Annie’s ghost to move on.”

“If Tanizaki’s death was as violent as Annie Braithwaite’s, the shock of it could be keeping him grounded here,” Bob theorized. “Even if he is as disoriented as she was, his emotions over his demise could be strong enough to project outward and influence Ms. Sato when she got near.”

“That was some pretty power influencing,” Harry mused. “She said she felt angry. In rage, even…”

Bob narrowed his eyes when Harry’s voice trailed off. “A swift exorcism maybe in order to minimize further damage,” the necromancer advised, cautiously. “I trust you brought the proper materials.”

“Yeah,” Harry answered, distracted. “But I’m going to talk to him first.”

“Him?”

“Tanizaki,” clarified Harry. “If you’re right then he’s in pain. I can’t just force him out without finding out if there’s something I can do to help that. His family has the wrong body, Bob. He can't even have a small peace of mind from a real funeral. Who wouldn't be angry?” The ghost stared at him, silently. “What?” Harry demanded under the scrutiny.

“Are you looking at this case or are you still looking at Christine Graham’s?” inquired the spirit.

“That’s got nothing to do with this,” Harry stated. Bob’s gaze didn’t waver. “I couldn’t help her, but maybe I can with him. What’s wrong with that?”

“You just said the two cases were not related.”

“I’d still feel the same even if I hadn’t taken on Christine’s case,” snapped Harry. “If he’s got some unfinished business that I could help him with to make it easier for him to move on, then that’s a good thing.”

“That,” said Bob, pointedly. “Would depend on the nature of the unfinished business.”

TBC