Diary of a Suburban Squeen

Switzerland, the late 60s

“All right,” said Margot, after putting her tea cup down with a defiant clatter. “I suppose you’re right.”

“We need to find out how she’s doing it,” said Jack. “Somehow she’s brainwashing everyone – we need to stop that before we make a move.”

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Cardiff, the present day

Gwen wasn’t jealous of Margot. Particularly. How hard must it be, to have some kind of trauma (as yet unknown; neither Jack nor Professor Trelawney had been forthcoming about what had happened forty years ago), to be frozen and then woken up in the twenty-first century? Thing like that, takes it out of a girl. It was just that Margot didn’t seem very bothered by it all. There she sat, pretty as a picture in a hospital gown (and Gwen didn’t even think that was *possible*), discussing the intricacies of freezing someone with Owen. Turned out she was a doctor, not that it had occurred to anyone to mention it before hand.

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Switzerland, the late 60s

“Who am *I*? Who are *you*?” Raising her hand to shield her eyes from the glare of torchlight, Margot answered the man’s question irascibly. Whoever he was – whoever *any* of them were – they likely had no right to be on school property.

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Hmmm, I feel that this has gone horribly wrong. I had an idea for a story and one for a sequel, but I really wanted to combine them. So I'm trying, but am very unsure about the whole thing. Plus, am not convinced that I'm cut out for writing Torchwood fic.


( Part Two )