The Universe's Mixer

It hadn't taken long before Ianto had realised that charting the layout of a city that had a habit of moving was an exercise in futility, not to mention frustration. He was grateful of the opportunity to try, though. He'd never known a period of time when Torchwood was so quiet, and couldn't decide if that was something to approve of. In theory, of course, it was a good thing. He knew better than to wish for any brand of calamity, keeping in mind what Gwen had told him about zombies.

But he was so used to being poised on the brink of action, ready for that pivotal moment when he would once again be pushed to his limits - one he wasn't entirely sure he would feel again here - that to relax was out of the normal for him. He didn't pause to reflect what that meant for his state of being as he took a bite out of the sandwich he was snacking on.

Sat at a table in the smallest cafe-type establishment he had managed to find, on the table in front of him was a journal in which he'd finished composing all he knew about the city's locations, and felt quite productive, all things considered. It helped, if only for his peace of mind, to know the resources which were on hand... even if they weren't always guaranteed to be in exactly the same place.

Violence warning

Dexter understood now, what it was that had made him feel. It hadn't been that Baba had been anything different than other women. It hadn't been a miracle. It had been another sick joke played by the City. A mutated Cupid, going around shooting arrows at random people and causing chaos.

Again, chaos.

The strange thing was that she was different than anybody he'd ever met. She wanted to encourage his darkness. Wanted to play with him in it.

Her words echoed through his brain, circling around again and again.

"Wouldn't you like to see what it's like to enjoy the bloodletting without worrying about what may come? ... Wouldn't you like to know?"

Oh, and he did. He did so very much. They had stood, staring at the young couple for what seemed to him to be an eternity. His urges tugging him in their direction, and the words of Harry gnawing at his gut.

He'd had this before, hadn't he. He'd been able to kill who he wanted, when he wanted. But it had been a curse by that knife. It had given him that freedom, but had taken from him his human face. Had given him the face of the Dark Passenger. It wasn't exactly the trade off that he'd bargained for.

This. This would be different. This would be true freedom.

And with her.

They'd both been diverted by the thing flying by, that Cupid. Baba had changed her mind. Instead of the sweet young couple, they were going to kill that thing. They were going to do it together. There might even be some torture involved. She'd had to capture it, of course. Dexter had no ability to do that. It was too quick, and flew too high. It seemed to be easy for her to do. The thing was in her grasp in no time at all.

Now they stood in an abandoned building. Dexter was looking down at it, it wiggling on the table there. He'd not put it out like he normally did to them. It had been awake for the tying down. He wasn't even going to take care with gloves and a smock. No. This was going to get messy, and he was going to get into it.

The feeling of love had faded before they'd gotten here. He was still wondering at it. The feeling. False as it had been, he'd still felt it. He would never forget that. Never.

Dexter glanced up and smiled.