Torchwood 1938: Let Us Build Us A City

[The First Doctor]

"Don't be ridiculous Robert, I need you on your best attention while we're here. Besides, we slept in the same bed last night that was not even half the size of this bed." She gave him a sidelong glance, pursing her lips slightly. "What would it matter, if all we do is sleep." She said with a soft chuckle.

Intellectually, he knew just how foolish his reaction - and the offer to sleep on the floor - was. She was right. And yet...

Dream manfully and nobly, his mind echoed, and thy dreams shall be prophets...

"You're right, of course," he finally said, his voice carrying just a hint of the Scottish burr that surfaced when he was tired or emotional. "I'll need to be rested, and it's true that I sleep better-" he bit off the next few words -next to you- before they could be uttered. "With a real mattress," he finished, lamely.

He laughed, a quick bark without humor. "Call it a sentimental gesture, driven by irritation with Moira." And then he managed a real smile. "I'll warn ye, though - I prefer the right side of the bed."

(OOC: Ah, emotional awkwardness. The Meddler can't seem to escape it.

Also, once we get this scene wound down, shall we go to lunch and planning, or skip directly to an initial contact with Dr. Frobenius?)

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

She had never seen Robert so awkward in her presence, was this really the arrogant man she worked together with daily for almost three years now? Worst was, it made her nervous and concious of his presence, while for bloody hell's sake they had been shagging each other's anger out in a drunken stupor the night before.

Just then she remembered the perfume.

And she snorted very unlady like when she did so, choking back a laugh.

So it even managed to bring Robert to a bumbling romantic idiot, and she had only used a small bit. This said enough of it's potency, and she'd have to be careful not to apply too much in the fear of getting unwanted forced attentions.

Though, why did the soft Scottish burr coming from Roberts throat make her feel warm in her tummy then? She shook her head slowly and looked over at Robert with hooded eyes.

"I'm sleeping on the right side of the bed." She said with finality, a smile twinkling in her eyes.

(OOC: Let's go straight on to Dr. Frobenius I'd say)

[The First Doctor]

She snorted, a sound very much like choked-off laughter, then shook her head. "I'm sleeping on the right side of the bed." She said with finality, a smile twinkling in her eyes.

He laughed at that, her contrary for contrariness' sake response suddenly easing the growing tension he'd been feeling. "We can flip a coin for it," he countered. "Let chance decide." He paused. "And then spend an hour or so arguing about the results."

He offered her his hand and helped her to her feet - not that she really needed the help, but it was an excuse to touch her just then. "But for now, duty calls."

---

Sometimes, working with Celia was infuriating.

Robert found the thought amusing, especially given how close he had been - just a few hours earlier - to risking everything and telling her how he really felt about her. But on the drive back into Arona from the hotel, he had proposed several different ideas for how to get in touch with Dr. Frobenius. All she'd done was smile a sly little smile and offer some mild criticisms of his suggestions.

And then, when they were within Arona's city limits, she'd pointed to a bistro and said "Let's eat there". So he'd pulled over, parked the car, and entered with her on his arm. She'd smiled a smug little smile the whole way in.

Doctor Leo Frobenius had arrived mere moments before. He recognized Celia immediately, and had insisted that his favorite Irish correspondent and her young man - and how she'd giggled at that - join him. She'd given him a smile of triumph that only grew more smug when he whispered "No. There is no way you knew he'd be here".

The lunch conversation hadn't lasted long - the Doctor was in the middle of "important research", and had barely been able to make time for lunch - but he insisted that they join him at his home in Biganzolo that evening for an early dinner and drinks. They had, of course - after a polite refusal - accepted.

After parting with the good Doctor they had taken a walking tour of the town, as much to kill time as anything else. Besides, they were pretending to be tourists, and that was the sort of romantic thing a tourist couple should do.

The romantic dialogue was a little weak, though. "The odds against that must be..." Robert thought for a moment. "Staggering. You saw him entering the bistro, right? Or does he just frequent that restaurant when he's in Arona, and you just decided to take a chance?"

---

Biganzolo
About ten miles from Arona
The shores of Lake Maggiore
Piedmont, Italy
August 7, 1938

The sound of the car's engine died away. Robert stepped out, walked around to the other side, and opened the door for Celia.

Dr. Frobenius' home was a one-story villa, stone covered with stucco, with a floor plan that allowed the breeze off the lake to cool the interior. Trellised grape vines climbed the front, and old olive trees shaded the sides.

Robert nodded approvingly as he closed the door. "Apparently, the Doctor's done quite well for himself. Maybe I should give up this Torchwood business, and get into African history?"

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

Indeed, duty had called.

They were in a car, the window open and her hair fanning gently in the wind, her eyes covered by some pilot shaped sunglasses. Indeed,sometime she loved the extravagance. She had her eyes closed, enjoying the summer breeze when the feeling had struck her like a small tingling at the back of her neck.

He was there. Doctor Frobenius, she was sure of it. She could sense him.

"Let's eat there" She said calmly, pointing her finger to a Bistro at the side of the road. She silk shawl was in danger of flying out of the window when she made the gesture, but she did not seem too bothered. It stayed put.

Robert wasn't going to believe her even if she told him, so might as well not inform him. He's find out soon enough.

She had a quick check up in the hand mirror she carried in her purse after taking her sunglasses off and tucking them away, seeing if her make up was still in place, re-applying some of that scarlet lipstick. Finally, she brought that small vial out again and sprayed some of the perfume behind her ears and at her wrists.

Flicking her black scarf across her shoulder she took Roberts arm and smirked smugly, she knew who would be in there and Robert would never believe her even if she told him.

Dr. Frobenius had recognised her immediately and she gave him the most stunning smile she had, the man kissing the back of her hand in politeness.

She saw him still as he smelled the perfume. Eyes looked up at her suddenly, hungrily as his hand tightened on her own.

"The pleasure is all mine, Doctor Frobenius" She said smoothly and slipped her hand from his to tuck in Roberts arm again. The talk was idle, of course they had been invited to the villa by night, she had not expected any less.

Walking around town had been quaint, but she rather had been in the hotel room preparing for the night ahead, possibly catch some extra sleep. But Robert was right, they had to look like regular tourists. The conversation though, amused her more then anything.

"The odds against that must be..." Robert thought for a moment. "Staggering. You saw him entering the bistro, right? Or does he just frequent that restaurant when he's in Arona, and you just decided to take a chance?"

She chuckled softly in response.

"Robert, I do not have hawks eyes, the man had already been long inside. His coffee was even half done. I'll tell you a secret, the gnomes told me." She said with humour laced in her words. Robert never believed her regardless, so she made it a sport to ridicule him whenever he refused to see what was in front of him.

----------------------------------------------

And so, here they were at the Villa.

She had changed into another dress, it certainly wouldn't do to be seen in the same dress twice, it took the element of surprise away otherwise.

That and she loved her dress, the many of them.

She wore a champagne coloured evening dress made of the smoothest of silk, the lacing was of a golden grown colour and her hair had been done up in elaborate curls interwoven with come golden brown ribbons. The hotel came with it's own hairdressers for the ladies. From her ears dangled diamonds set in silver, matched by the ones resting around her neck. She looked every much the lady from the higher classes with a fat dowry to match.

That and Robert also managed to look like a stunner, she had trouble keeping her eyes off him.

"Apparently, the Doctor's done quite well for himself. Maybe I should give up this Torchwood business, and get into African history?"

"You'd be nothing without me, and don't you forget it." She said clipped, but the look in her eyes showed she was just teasing him, those green eyes sparkling in the evening light of the villa.

They made for the entrance.

[The Meddler]

"The odds against that must be..." Robert thought for a moment. "Staggering. You saw him entering the bistro, right? Or does he just frequent that restaurant when he's in Arona, and you just decided to take a chance?"

She chuckled softly in response.

"Robert, I do not have hawks eyes, the man had already been long inside. His coffee was even half done. I'll tell you a secret, the gnomes told me." She said with humour laced in her words.

"That's..." He forced himself to swallow the first thing that leapt to mind. This was not the time to pick a fight. "Really?" he managed weakly, not sounding terribly convincing. "That's... uhm..." He blinked, realizing he had actually read something about that, and recently. "Wait. Aren't gnomes earth spirits?"

Sure, all of this occult business was nonsense. But you never knew when knowledge might come in handy.

---

"Apparently, the Doctor's done quite well for himself. Maybe I should give up this Torchwood business, and get into African history?"

"You'd be nothing without me, and don't you forget it." She said clipped, but the look in her eyes showed she was just teasing him, those green eyes sparkling in the evening light of the villa.

"You're absolutely right," he said, cupping her chin and gazing into the emerald depths of her eyes. "Maybe we should give up this Torchwood business."

Then he winked. "Of course, that means giving up the glamorous life of hiding idiots and dinosaurs from the public eye."

He offered her his arm, and they strolled to the entrance.

---

"Ah, Celia," Doctor Frobenius said with a short bow, touching her hand to his lips. "Once again, allow me to express my gratitude for accepting my invitation. It has been far too long since you graced the Museum für Völkerkunde."

His grip, as he shook Robert's hand, was firm but not oppressive. "And again, Mr. Goodall, it is a pleasure to meet you. Any friend of Celia's is welcome in my home..." He caught sight of the ring on Robert's hand, and smiled wider. "Ah! My congratulations to you both! And to think I had wondered what brought the two of you to Piedmont!"

He smiled back at Celia. "My dear, you should have told me." His tone was faintly reproving, but the smile on his lips slipped quickly back into his words. "Had I but known, I would never have imposed! I may not look it now, but I too was young and newly-married once..."

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

She couldn't believe he actually took her joke seriously, it was hilarious the man did not know when she was serious and when not. She choked back a laugh and smirked at him.

"Gnomes in Italy, really? I thought you did your homework better then that Robert. You didn't note the sarcasm, darling."

And she wasn't going to go on about it any further, Robert wouldn't believe her regardless so she wasn't willing to even start the argument, waste of time.

Yet, when he took her chin she gasped silently, green eyes widening. He had never done something so intimate to her and she could feel her heart beating in her chest.

"Maybe we should give up this Torchwood business."

"W-we?" She stuttered softly, the barrier so constantly around her mind suddenly dropped. The eyes that looked back into his looked a lot younger, vulnerable. Luckily, he broke the tension himself and she sucked in a breath to calm herself.

"Of course, that means giving up the glamorous life of hiding idiots and dinosaurs from the public eye."

"Yes.. and we c-can't have that, now can we?" Damnit Celia, man yourself up! You're not some blethering idiot! She straightened herself and the mental barrier slid back up around her, her eyes once again becoming mirrors of the beholder, not willing to give them self free. She once again become the seductive alluring woman who cared more for the materialistic then love.

She took his arm wordlessly to the entrance.


---------------------------------------

It had worked fine, the perfume, the man was lapping it up like a kitten that had just gotten milk. Excellent.

"Ah! My congratulations to you both! And to think I had wondered what brought the two of you to Piedmont!"

He smiled back at Celia. "My dear, you should have told me."

She blinked, surprised. She had not seen that one coming. Quickly she slid back into her role and smiled politely, holding Roberts arm a little closer.

"It was a silent wedding, Robert is so often away from home that we barely get to spend time together. He took me to see wonderful Italy, he's so kind and giving" She said with her best dreamy smile plastered on her face, her nails on Roberts arm were unforgiving though.

I'm going to retch.

Perhaps the whole marriage scheme would help her, married women were always on men's forbidden list. And everyone knew how much temptation something forbidden could give.

[The Meddler]

"Gnomes in Italy, really? I thought you did your homework better then that Robert. You didn't note the sarcasm, darling." She was smirking, now.

He entertained the briefest flicker of two different things he could do to wipe that smirk from her face, rejected them as far too inconvenient in public, and settled for a pantomime of dawning comprehension. "Oh, yes. Of course. Gnomes are in Zurich."

---

"Of course, that means giving up the glamorous life of hiding idiots and dinosaurs from the public eye."

Robert damned himself for a fool, as soon as he said the words. For just a moment - and it had dawned on him just an instant too late - her mask of cynicism and sophistication had slipped. For just an instant, he understood why the poets called the eyes the windows of the soul.

"Yes.. and we c-can't have that, now can we?"

And then, before he could say anything else, the mask was back in place. She smiled and accepted his arm, and all the way to the door he cursed himself for an imbecile.

---

"Married?" Robert started to say, surprised. He didn't finish the syllables as Celia snuggled up in an overt display of affection, and dug her nails painfully into his arm. So, the word came out as something like "Mar-ack!"

"It was a silent wedding, Robert is so often away from home that we barely get to spend time together. He took me to see wonderful Italy, he's so kind and giving." She said with her best dreamy smile plastered on her face.

Where the hell did the get that idea... And then he remembered the ring, slightly shocked. Nobody remembered that ring. He barely remembered it, and he bloody wore it.

Still beaming at them, Doctor Frobenius led them into the parlor, talking as he went. "I understand duty," he was saying, "But I simply cannot understand how a man so fortunate to have such a lovely and intelligent wife could bear to be apart from her. May I offer you something to drink? Dinner shan't be ready for a half hour."

"For his own safety?" Robert said, just loud enough for Celia to hear him, then made a strangled sound as her nails dug in to his arm again.

"Pardon?"

"Ah... It is a terrible strain, yes. But a man must work, I fear, and importing requires tremendous amounts of travel. Scotch, if you have it."

The Doctor smiled. "I suppose it must. And yet, were I thirty years younger and married to such a woman? I fear my career would suffer greatly." He lifted a crystal bottle filled with an amber liquid. "Glenlivet 25."

Robert's eyes lit up. "My dear Doctor, you are a gentleman and a scholar." He accepted the glass, sniffed it appreciatively, then sipped. "But fortunately, the greater part of my travel has concluded - and quite successfully."

(OOC: Unless we find that writing pre-dinner conversation is utterly fascinating, we can probably move this on reasonably quickly.)

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

Roberts exclamation of "Mar-ACK!? was hilarious, really, but she was in no position to laugh and neither was he, with her well manicured nailed latched onto his skin mercilessly. Her finger ghosted over the ring, luckily she was wearing a ring that could easily pass as a wedding ring too. When her skin came in contact with the ring, she felt a jolt go up her finger and then her arm, her eyes widening.

She realized she had never even noticed him wearing that ring before, yet it was large enough to be hard to miss. A feeling of danger crept up on her, but she squished it down and held Roberts arm tight, this was another tale for another time. She would find out what that ring was.

As soon as she looked up she had forgotten about the thing.

"But I simply cannot understand how a man so fortunate to have such a lovely and intelligent wife could bear to be apart from her. May I offer you something to drink? Dinner shan't be ready for a half hour."

"For his own safety?" Robert said, just loud enough for Celia to hear him, then made a strangled sound as her nails dug in to his arm again.

Oh she was merciless now, she wanted to crush him under her expensive heel. Her jaw clenched as she was sure she had drawn a bit of blood when she released his arm again, moving his shirt down over his arm to hide the scratches.

"He manages, he sends me gifts from his travels. Pearls, diamonds, he got me this fantastic emerald from Brazil about a month ago" She lied smoothly.

The way Roberts eyes lit up at the mention of good whiskey made her eyes roll. She only succumbed in whiskey if she had sorrows to drown.. which was often with Robert lately.

Then she cut to the actual goal. Letting go of Roberts arm she smoothly slid over to Dr. Frobenius, placing a gentle hand on his arm. Close enough for the perfume to work.

"Doctor.. we.. may I be so bold? I read about your research in Atlantis and I was so fascinated by it, that such a beautiful land could exist and completely hidden away from all eyes! Would you.. would you care to tell me more about it? I would usually not be so bold, but it's haunted my mind for months now. Could you indulge me a little, please?" She asked, a sweet smile on her face, tilting her head slightly to reveal her long pale neck elegantly.

[The Meddler]

"Doctor.. we.. may I be so bold? I read about your research in Atlantis and I was so fascinated by it, that such a beautiful land could exist and completely hidden away from all eyes! Would you.. would you care to tell me more about it? I would usually not be so bold, but it's haunted my mind for months now. Could you indulge me a little, please?" She asked, a sweet smile on her face, tilting her head slightly to reveal her long pale neck elegantly.

Robert watched her little act with fascination - and a touch of jealousy, he was surprised to discover. He knew just how well that little routine of hers could work, even without that perfume of hers. And with the perfume? He was certain she'd be able to get a reaction out of a statue of a saint. But the more he watched, the more he didn't like it.

The Doctor, unsurprisingly, was putty in her elegantly-manicured hands. "Atlantis, yes," he said, and Robert noted the way he seemed to preen at the attention. I'll kill him, he thought irrationally, and then sipped at the scotch.

"You know I've been researching the fabled 'lost city' - and it was more a country than a city, according to the documents we do have about it - for years now, Celia." He paused, seemingly a little flustered. "Or would it be more appropriate to call you 'Ms. Goodall', now?"

Yes, why don't you call her that, Robert thought. Then he smiled, just the barest hint of a smile. Why don't I call her that? For a moment, he was lost in the fantasy. And then he frowned, and peered suspiciously at the scotch.

The Doctor laughed. "I can see that your husband is rather skeptical, Celia." He laughed again as Robert began to protest. "No, no, I understand. You do not offend me. After all, this is the 20th century. Searching for Atlantis is nearly as foolish as searching for Hyperborea, or the Kingdom of Prester John, or even - in honor of your lovely bride - the Isles of the Blessed. That is what you are thinking, is it not?"

He smiled, and took a sip from his own glass - the Glenlivet as well. "But I have three advantages in my personal search. The first is that I have tenure, so I have the freedom to pursue... questionable lines of research." Another sip. "The second is that I am no politically-motivated Ahnenerbe stooge or crank theosophist. I am a scientist and historian, and demand proof, or at least strong evidence, for extraordinary claims."

Another sip. "And the third advantage?" He paused for dramatic effect, and smiled at Celia (uncomfortably aware that he was admiring the smooth curve of a married woman's throat) as he did. "You'll like this," he said, forcing his eyes upwards, "I have proof."

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

She could practically feel Robert steaming behind her as she wooed Dr. Frobenius ego, it brought a smile to her face, one that was easily masked by the attention of the man before her. Oh yes, Atlantis.

She was pretty sure Robert was good at this too, had their subject been a female. That and she loved digging her pointy little heel in Roberts ego sometimes, that and the fact he had suddenly gotten so jealous made something in her abdomen grow warm. She normally did not care about such trifles, but this time she wanted to make the man jealous. Why she could not exactly place.

"You know I've been researching the fabled 'lost city' - and it was more a country than a city, according to the documents we do have about it - for years now, Celia." He paused, seemingly a little flustered. "Or would it be more appropriate to call you 'Ms. Goodall', now?"

She had to swallow down the snort that was coming up. her green eyes flitted back to her 'husband' for a moment, a smug smile crossing on her face.

"Oh we've been old friends, my given name will be just fine won't it, honey?" She turned to Robert, the mirth positively bouncing from her eyes.

He's going to murder me as soon as we get back to the hotel She gave a soft chuckle.

The Doctor laughed. "I can see that your husband is rather skeptical, Celia." He laughed again as Robert began to protest. "No, no, I understand. You do not offend me. After all, this is the 20th century. Searching for Atlantis is nearly as foolish as searching for Hyperborea, or the Kingdom of Prester John, or even - in honour of your lovely bride - the Isles of the Blessed. That is what you are thinking, is it not?"

"Robert is a new breed of scientist, a mathematician. They and the fantastical never seemed to match well, but he is adapting rather well." Once again, their eyes met, for once she had given him a sincere compliment. Those sort of comments were sparse.

He smiled, and took a sip from his own glass - the Glenlivet as well. "But I have three advantages in my personal search. The first is that I have tenure, so I have the freedom to pursue... questionable lines of research." Another sip. "The second is that I am no politically-motivated Ahnenerbe stooge or crank theosophist. I am a scientist and historian, and demand proof, or at least strong evidence, for extraordinary claims."

Another sip. "And the third advantage?" He paused for dramatic effect, and smiled at Celia (uncomfortably aware that he was admiring the smooth curve of a married woman's throat) as he did. "You'll like this," he said, forcing his eyes upwards, "I have proof."

A large smile came to her face, her eyes lighting up, sincerely now. The man had proof of Atlantis? This would be ground breaking!

Yet, somehow her alien senses started tingling, she hated it when it did that.

[The Meddler]

"Oh we've been old friends, my given name will be just fine won't it, honey?" She turned to Robert, the mirth positively bouncing from her eyes.

Robert lifted an eyebrow in response. "She is quite the modern woman, Doctor," he said with a smirk. "My parents were, of course, scandalized. 'What sort of woman,' my father said, 'would fail to honor her wedding vows by showing that level of disrespect to her husband?'"

He laughed, imagining what his father would actually say. Probably something more like "Son, look at her. If I were you, I would be willing to change my name to Napoleon if it meant having her share my bed."

He sipped his Scotch. "And so I told him, 'Father, you are a relic. She is beautiful and intelligent, and I love her dearly, and - as she has made me the happiest man on earth by consenting to be my bride - my happiness is not constrained by her name.'" He'd intended it to be lightly joking, but an almost-unintended note of sincerity and wistfulness came through.

The Doctor nodded approvingly. "Well said, Robert. Well said."

"Now I just need to let my forearm heal..."

"What's that?"

"Oh, nothing."

The conversation turned back to Atlantis, and Robert was both surprised and impressed to hear that Doctor Frobenius recognized how insane it sounded. And then, Celia said something that startled him. Just a little.

"Robert is a new breed of scientist, a mathematician. They and the fantastical never seemed to match well, but he is adapting rather well."

He met her gaze and smiled back, appreciating the comment. "It's not that we don't match well with the fantastic," he responded mildly, "It's just that we want to see evidence. Strong evidence."

The Doctor lifted an eyebrow. "I had thought you were businessman, from what Celia said. What field are you in?"

"Theoretical physics. I earned my Masters at Cambridge, although I fear I never quite had the inclination to pursue a Doctorate. I've gone into importing because, well," he nodded at Celia. "I've a wife to support, and an aging father who wants to see his son take over the family business."

"Yes, well," Doctor Frobenius said, a note of understanding in his voice, "I understand family duty all too well."

The conversation turned back to the Doctor's explanations of the advantages he had over other seekers of lost Atlantis. "And the third advantage?" He paused for dramatic effect, and smiled at Celia.

Robert clenched his fist, noting the way the Doctor was practically undressing her with his eyes now. Not that it was hard, given the way that dress fit her, and it was why she had chosen it. They were there to persuade him to defect to England and join the Institute, after all, and she was exceptionally tasty bait. But he found himself irrationally wanting to break the man's nose for paying her the kind of attention he should be paying right now.

"You'll like this," he said, forcing his eyes upwards, "I have proof."

Robert choked on his Scotch. Even as he coughed and sputtered, he could Celia light up at the statement. For a moment, her mask of sultry sophistication slipped away, revealing an enthusiasm and excitement that he found breathtaking.

"Proof?" he gasped out.

"Yes, yes indeed," Doctor Frobenius assured them both, and then he grinned. "Ah, but I see that dinner is ready. Shall we wait until afterwards, so that you may appreciate it with full stomachs?"

Robert glanced at Celia, then looked back at the Doctor. "No."

---

"The key, of course," Doctor Frobenius was explaining as he led them into his study, "was to ignore the ramblings of the theosophists and to concentrate on what little historical records we have. As Plato said in Timeus, and I hope you'll forgive me for not remembering it in the original Greek..?"

Robert waved a hand. "I don't mind. My Greek is rusty."

"Wonderful. Well, then, as Plato said: for in front of the mouth which you Greeks call, as you say, 'the pillars of Heracles,' there lay an island which was larger than Libya and Asia together; and it was possible for the travelers of that time to cross from it to the other islands, and from the islands to the whole of the continent over against them which encompasses that veritable ocean."

Robert nodded.

"Allowing for artistic exaggeration," the Doctor continued, "What I was looking for was signs of a civilization - possibly, but not necessarily - more advanced than any other of the time - that was a dominant naval power in the Mediterranean and the Atlantic Ocean. In both a mercantile and military sense."

He produced a large copper box, about a meter long and twenty centimeters by twenty centimeters in cross section. It was inlaid with lapis lazuli and mother of pearl. Words were worked into the copper, in tiny and unfamiliar script.

"Cuneiform," the Doctor said. "It reads, roughly, The Scepter of the Lord of the Island of the God that supports the World. I, Nimrod, Ruler of Babel, have taken it in battle. Praise to Ishtar for the victory."

Robert looked puzzled, and the Doctor sighed. "Atlantis means Isle of Atlas. And Atlas..."

"Was the titan that carried the Earth on his shoulders in Greek myth," finished Robert.

"Exactly! But look at the scepter itself!" With that, the Doctor opened the chest. Nestled within was a rod of some orange, coppery metal covered with fine lines. At the tip was a three-pointed white crystal that seemed to glow faintly, giving the entire rod the appearance of a slightly luminous trident.

"Proof enough?" the Doctor said with a laugh. "Proof, I think, that I've found something unknown, anyway."

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

The usually so cold and sophisticated woman stilled at Roberts words, her mask slipping for a moment as she took him in in a way she never had before. Something about his tone.. he sounded too sincere and she felt a tremble go up her spine.

No, no. This was just a play. And they had to do anything to get Doctor Frobenius on their team. She wondered when it would be time to reveal who they really were.

Luckily, the conversation returned to Atlantis, her eyes turning calculating again. To other, it would seem flirty. The conversation luckily pulled her mind away, as did it to Robert's. Him and the Doctor rambling away about certain mathematical explanations she did not wholly understand. So, wisely she kept silent and let Robert do the work.

It did not stop the Doctor from undressing her with his eyes, she did notice. She had been planning on it. She returned to Roberts side, slipping her hand in the crook of his elbow as he clenched his fist.

"Relax" She whispered in his ear.

They were both all ears suddenly when the Doctor talked of proof.

Robert had beaten her to agreeing it couldn't wait till after dinner.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It somewhat annoyed her that the Doctor reverted to original Greek, she herself was not fantastic with languages and she was left completely in the dark. And, being the woman, she was not to be smart to inquire. That and she wasn't sure her ego could bear it. She was glad when they reverted back to regular English.

Then a copper box was pulled out, inlaid with high quality Lapis Lazuli and mother of pearl. This person had money. Lapis Lazuli was about nine times more expensive as gold was back before modern times of global transport. But it was the script that caught her eyes, and she wished she could translate it, really. Gladly the Doctor did.

"Cuneiform," the Doctor said. "It reads, roughly, The Scepter of the Lord of the Island of the God that supports the World. I, Nimrod, Ruler of Babel, have taken it in battle. Praise to Ishtar for the victory."

Robert looked puzzled, and the Doctor sighed. "Atlantis means Isle of Atlas. And Atlas..."

"Was the titan that carried the Earth on his shoulders in Greek myth," finished Robert.

"Exactly! But look at the sceptre itself!"

Then, the box opened and she was taken back by what was in it. The metal seemed gold, perhaps some copper gold alloy, but it was the glowing crystal that immediately caught her attention and she kept herself from drawing closing. Immediately, she felt the familiar presence of something Alien.

She exchanged a knowing look with Robert. Their eyes holding each other, they both probably were thinking the same thing.

So, she broke the question, carefully.

"Doctor, have you ever heard of the Torchwood Institute?"

[The Meddler]

"The... Torchwood Institute?" Doctor Frobenius pursed his lips in thought. "I... think so, yes. Something similar to your English Society for Psychical Research, I believe, only dedicated to the search for extraterrestrial life? I believe it is funded directly by the British Crown as well, and not by Parliament."

Meanwhile, Robert had stepped closer to the box. "May I?" he asked.

"Of course, of course. Just... be careful."

Robert, who was pulling on a pair of thin calfskin gloves, looked mildly offended at that.

"I have also heard that the Institute has an unusual interest in the theoretical physics of time travel," the Doctor continued, "and in mysterious sightings of blue boxes."

Robert laid the scepter back down, produced a jeweler's loupe, and began to examine the shaft more carefully. "This... this is... remarkable."

The Doctor looked at them with mild puzzlement for a second. Then he blinked, looked at the scepter, and back at the two agents. "Oh, my. Celia, are you about to tell me that you and your husband are representatives of the Torchwood Institute? What would a research foundation studying extraterrestrial life want with me?"

Robert glanced back at Celia, then up at the Doctor. The jeweler's loupe was still held in one eye, giving his face a pinched look. "That's really more for Celia to say," he answered. "But - and I suppose this could be sheer coincidence - these engravings on the scepter? They strongly remind me of Dr. Turing's work on physical implementation of Boolean functions."

With that, he produced a notepad and a pencil, and began sketching the designs rapidly.

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

"The... Torchwood Institute?" Doctor Frobenius pursed his lips in thought. "I... think so, yes. Something similar to your English Society for Psychical Research, I believe, only dedicated to the search for extraterrestrial life? I believe it is funded directly by the British Crown as well, and not by Parliament."

"Indeed," She agreed "Queen Victoria was the one who founded it after certain unexplainable incidents in Scotland while she was staying at a Castle Torchwood. Hence the name." She said smoothly.

As Robert took a closer look at the sceptre with a jewellers loupe she heard his exclamation and shifted over to his side, looking at the sceptre over his shoulder. Indeed, the thing was remarkable. Her momentary fascination with the object was broken when she heard the Doctor speak out her name again.

"Oh, my. Celia, are you about to tell me that you and your husband are representatives of the Torchwood Institute? What would a research foundation studying extraterrestrial life want with me?"

Robert glanced back at Celia, then up at the Doctor. The jeweler's loupe was still held in one eye, giving his face a pinched look. "That's really more for Celia to say," he answered. "But - and I suppose this could be sheer coincidence - these engravings on the scepter? They strongly remind me of Dr. Turing's work on physical implementation of Boolean functions."

"What a research facility such as Torchwood would want with you Doctor, should be obvious. You have found clear evidence there is at least something more out there, something Torchwood specialises in. Human kind is generally not ready for such things, but it does not mean we should keep a blind eye."

She kept her eyes on the Doctor's reaction as Robert started sketching away.

[The Meddler]

"What a research facility such as Torchwood would want with you Doctor, should be obvious. You have found clear evidence there is at least something more out there, something Torchwood specialises in. Human kind is generally not ready for such things, but it does not mean we should keep a blind eye."

She kept her eyes on the Doctor's reaction as Robert started sketching away.

The Doctor's eyes opened wide. "Celia? What is this you are saying? You believe that, because I have found a remarkable artifact pointing towards the existence of a historical Atlantis, I should join in a search for little green men from Mars? That I should also look for a magic blue box?" He laughed, just a little. "Such a thing is preposterous. Even if life existed elsewhere, it would require such time to come here as to make the journey absurd."

Robert looked up, set his note pad aside, and removed his loupe. "Doctor," he said, voice flat. "To borrow your phrase: we have proof."

"Was?" Doctor Frobenius said, so startled that he lapsed back into his native German.

Robert smiled an almost predatory smile. "We have proof. Proof that we are not alone in the universe, or even on Earth."

He knew the Doctor's expression. It was the same expression he'd worn, the day Major Holland had attempted to recruit him. Skepticism. But skepticism mixed with the desire to see the proof for himself. The fact that it had turned out to be true had just been an added bonus.

A certain redhead had been the other added bonus...

"You are... how do you say? Pulling my leg, yes?"

"No," Robert smiled. "We're not."

(OOC: I've softened him up for Celia's wicked wiles. Care to finish him off?)