'Don't hurry him.' Brendan grinned. 'There's always a but with Jack. Hold that thought.'

'What?' asked Jon.

Brendan pointed. A kid wearing normal clothes and too much wet-look hair gel had wandered in. 'Underneath those baggy clothes and that home dye job, he's gorgeous. You can tell it's his first time out. In two minutes' time he's going to be smoking a granny f.a.g outside and wishing he fitted in.'

Jon patted his partner on the arm. 'Go get him, tiger.'

Brendan gave a mock sigh of exhaustion. 'No rest for the wicked, you know how it is.' He winked, grabbed his drink and his cigarettes and, steering the kid by the shoulder, swept him outside.

Jon turned back to Jack. 'See? Another soul rescued. People will see him with us. We're so beautiful, some of that rubs off on him. He'll make friends. He'll dress like them, someone will cut his hair. He'll sleep with a few of them, get his heart broken, get tougher, go down the gym, break a few hearts of his own... It's all good. Community service.'

Jack said nothing.

'Yeah. We've led by example. Oh, it's been a great few months.' Brendan laughed and ruffled Jack's hair. 'Seriously. We've made so many friends, we've improved the boys and the music. We've even raised house prices by a few per cent. Plus we've got laid loads. What's not to love?'

Jack sipped his drink, thoughtfully.

Jon shrugged. 'I know what you're going to say, but really, don't be a stranger. There's always a place in our hearts and our bed for you, Jack. You get me I know what it's like. You're fighting Weevils, we're fighting off bears. But, look around you, sweetheart. Isn't this better than what there was? Look at how happy we've made everybody. Even the kids from Newport.'

Jack looked at him and smiled.

'Oh, I keep cutting you off, which is so annoying!' laughed Jon. 'What is the thing? Have you come for a bit of advice? Cos, if you don't mind me saying, the military retro thing has kind of gone. We need to get you in something tight and fitting. Some fabrics that'll breathe, if you know what I mean.'

Brendan came back to the table, smirking.

Jon glanced at him. 'You dirty s.l.u.t,' he sighed.

Brendan puckered his mouth. 'Yeah, well, I made him happy he'll have a great evening.'

Jon tutted. 'And you come back smelling of cheap f.a.gs. Can you not try out menthol?'

Brendan shuddered. 'It's like licking a minty road. No thanks. Now, Captain j.a.c.k.o.f.f what can we do you with?' And he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Jon shrugged. 'He's not said. Not really got a word in edgewise, have you? Silly me, I'm turning into such a ga.s.sy old Mary. It's the b.l.o.o.d.y Welsh. So gregarious. I swear they're rubbing off on me.'

He laughed in a nasal way, and Brendan growled at him.

'So, Jack, what have you come here to say? Are you going to congratulate us for everything we've done?'

Jack's smile faded. 'Nope. I'm here to take you in.'

'What?' Jon's c.o.c.ktail paused mid-sip. Brendan reached nervously for his lighter.

'You heard. The show's over. You've broken our agreement. I was a fool to trust you. So now it ends.'

'Oh,' said Jon, a little sadly. 'You knew?'

'I'm only sorry it took me so long to notice!' exclaimed Jack, furiously angry. 'Why couldn't you have come to me earlier? We might have helped you. Instead people have died. And...' he looked truly regretful. 'I thought there were two people in Cardiff who really understood me, who I could trust... and now this. Sorry. Party's so over.'

Brendan let out a long-held breath. 'Fooo. OK. Wow. Bit sudden, but OK,' he said. 'We'll play by the rules, won't we, Jonno?'

'Yup,' said Jon, moving closer to Jack. 'Last dance, Captain?'

'Sure,' said Jack. 'Why not?'

And they led him to the dance floor. And a day pa.s.sed.

THE PERFECTION DANCES IN.

MYSTERIOUS WAYS.

'You were right,' whispered Jon in his ear. As they moved across the dance floor, people just stepped out of their way. 'You said G.o.ds were just conmen with good technology.'

'And you were.'

Brendan pressed up against Jack's back, laughing. 'Oh we were good. So good. But the machine made us BETTER.'

'Oh,' sighed Jack. Partly cos he was understanding, partly because Brendan was gently kissing the back of his neck.

'We didn't need the machine, but we built it anyway. It made our life easier. Just as you don't need a dishwasher, but once you've got one...' explained Jon.

'Dishwashers? Jeez,' sighed Brendan in Jack's ear. 'Can you believe him?'

'What did your machine do?' asked Jack, trying to concentrate. The music, the lights the feeling of the Perfection, wrapping themselves around him. The way they were all starting to move together, the way the music was getting louder, and yet further away, was somehow slowing down... were they even moving at all?

'It's a belief system. It made it easier for us to give our believers what they wanted. G.o.d created Man, and Man created G.o.d... you know...'

'You know,' repeated Brendan, mockingly in Jack's ear.

'It let us answer their prayers. It kept us perfect,' continued Jon. 'At the moment, for example, it lets me avoid wrinkles, and it keeps Brendan from losing his hair. Plus those love handles.'

'Shut up!' hissed Brendan.

'Oh, it's true. Ahhh, I love this bit!' Jon shouted as the music built up and hit them like a wave.

And, like a wave, suddenly everything for Jack was down, not up, then up, not down, then he gasped for breath. 'What's happening to me?' he asked. 'What's happening to me?' he shouted.

Was he alone on the dance floor? Could he even open his eyes? He shouted and shouted again and then- 'It's OK, sssh!' breathed Jon, kissing him. 'The music's just really good tonight. What is that kid DJ's name?'

'Eric,' replied Brendan.

'Oh, we're keeping him!' laughed Jon. 'Anyway, to business. Which is you, Captain.'

'So you had your machine,' said Jack. Was he slurring? Anyway. 'And you come to Cardiff and...'

'We just settled for a little bar, a nice flat, and for making everyone happy. That's all we did. Is that such a crime?' Brendan's voice took on a begging tone. And was he starting to glow slightly?

Jack blinked a bit, and tried to focus. Focus on making the- 'And then we lost it. It was stolen.'

'I know,' said Jack. G.o.d, he was sweating. 'They're right,' he thought. 'It's this coat. I'm wearing too many clothes. Giggle. Oh that's funny. Always wearing too many clothes.'

'Have you got it with you?' asked Brendan. 'No? OK. So we needed the device back. It was still being used, but at a long distance from us the power it's been demanding has spiralled. We've done everything we could to feed it... but it's not been enough.'

'You should have asked me,' said Jack. 'We could have helped.'

'Maybe it's not too late,' said Jon.

'It is,' said Brendan. 'G.o.ds have their pride.' Jon leaned close.

'He's got really good arms,' thought Jack. 'He's so strong, and his hair's so good and I love the way his eyes are so blue and there's all that stubble and the troubled look in his face and the chest hair and cheekbones and-'

'Jack. Listen to me, Jack,' said Jon. 'We had to feed it. Using the old way.'

Brendan leaned in, his long blond hair sweeping back, his perfect teeth smiling in a feral way. His arms wrapped round Jack, so strong, almost crushing the life out of him.

'We've had to make sacrifices,' someone said.

And then it was white.

JACK IS IN FOR A TREAT WHEN.

HE CHECKS THE CCTV.

Gwen awoke, chewing hair. She realised, gradually, that it wasn't hers, and woke with a guilty start.

She and Ianto were wrapped round each other on the Hub's battered sofa. Gwen remembered they'd worked through the night and then just sat down, just for a second, just to catch their breath. And... how late was it?

She jabbed Ianto in the ribs.

Ianto gave a sudden snore, and snapped awake. He gazed around, blearily. 'Gwen... what?' For an instant, his face was dishevelled, hair unkempt, clothes rumpled. Then he shook himself like a cat, and everything fell into place. Perfectly.

Gwen narrowed her eyes. 'Ianto! We've been asleep!'

Ianto stood up, and clumped unevenly towards his desk. 'I'm missing a shoe,' he muttered.

'Oh G.o.d, I'm so tired,' wailed Gwen. 'I haven't slept properly all week, and now this.'

Ianto checked the clock on his PC. 'We've been asleep for four hours. I just shut my eyes, just for a moment...' He smiled at Gwen, encouragingly. 'I'll make some coffee.'

Gwen stumbled over to her machine, and pulled up the latest reading of the energy cloud. It had increased, no, doubled, while they'd been asleep. She stared, aghast.

Ianto joined her, and they sat there for a few minutes, groggily, sipping their coffee and watching the world end.

'It's like a net,' sighed Ianto. 'Very tightly woven. Hovering just a few feet over Cardiff.'

Gwen nodded. 'And getting ready to drop.'

'Right,' said Ianto, firmly. 'We need to find Jack. And we need to get the device to him.'

'Right,' said Gwen. They sat there, watching the energy net weaving itself tighter and tighter.

'What's unique about Jack?' asked Ianto. 'We need something we can trace him by.'

'Oh, you can't track smugness,' said Gwen.

CAPTAIN JACK GOES TO THE.

WALL.

Jack was pressed up against the wall, Brendan wrapped around him. He was wearing a drowsy, dreamy smile. 'What are we doing now, fellas?' he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

Jon moved across the room, and threw an arm around Jack's shoulder, drawing him close. 'Oh, it's all good, soldier.'

Jack blinked, slowly. 'Why... Why am I here?'

Brendan laughed, gently in his ear. 'You've forgotten! Oh, that's great.'

'We are very distracting,' said Jon.

'And haven't you done well?' said Brendan, admiringly.

'What?' murmured Jack. 'What have I done?'

'Provided us with a lot of much-needed power,' said Jon. 'You could call it a jump start.'

'Please don't,' sighed Brendan. He started to kiss Jack's neck. Jack laughed, slowly. 'Listen, babe, we've got to go for a few hours. And you're pretty much spent. So we're going to leave you here.'

'You'll like this bit,' said Jon. 'Spread out your hands.'

And Jack spread out his hands, feeling the two of them wrapped round him, and he smiled, happily. None of it felt real. He looked at the wall, all neat, white plaster, and then watched, dreamily, as it changed, spreading with a blood-red stain which moved around his figure. And then rippled. And the pounding, the pounding that had been in his head for so long he couldn't remember... oh, it got louder.

'It's the wall,' said Brendan, pressing in on him. 'Try and move your hands.'

Jack couldn't. He managed to lift his left hand, just slightly, but the wall shifted. He struggled, and the wall just wrapped itself further round his arm. He turned, almost alarmed, but still giggly. 'What is this?'

'It's the wall,' said Jon. 'We built a temple, after all.'