"Call 911!"

"How did I get transported to America?" Ianto thought absently. Granted, this was Cardiff, and anything was possible, but the wholesale removal of the down at the heels tourist information centre seemed a little far fetched, even for Torchwood.

He took a better look at the woman, girl really, she was just out of her teens. The illusion of being swept away to distant shores only strengthened. She was tall and leggy and had long, sun-bleached hair and golden skin; a West Coast girl straight out of a song by the Beach Boys. She was also scared shitless.

"What's the matter?"

"Out there!" The girl pointed behind her. "Monsters! They just appeared out of nowhere!"

The American tourist's fear was infectious. Visions of Cybermen filled Ianto's head as he vaulted from around the counter. Heart hammering, he forced himself to take a breath. He opened a channel to downstairs and then closed it almost immediately. He'd been at Torchwood Three all of five minutes. If he panicked and overreacted, Captain Harkness would reconsider his decision about hiring him. He'd be retconned and let go. If that happened, there would be no way to help Lisa.

Willing his legs to stop trembling, Ianto gave the girl what he hoped was a confident smile. "There was a film company here earlier. Maybe it's them you saw."

Her eyes said she didn't buy the lie, but was willing to play along. The girl nodded.

"Stay here. Lock the door behind me." It was important to feel like you were doing something useful when you thought the world was ending. Ianto knew that from experience. "I'll just have a look."

The kiss against his cheek was brief, but had its intended effect. Ianto felt almost brave as the girl said, "For luck."

The smile felt less false as he nodded back at her. "What's your name?"

"Lynn," she replied.

"Lynn," Ianto repeated. "That's a lovely name. I'm Ianto. Lock the door."

It was bright and sunny out. A perfect summer's day. Ianto blinked against the glare. He stood on the quay, filled his lungs with sea air, and took in the placid view of boats out on the water. If there was an invasion force, it wasn't coming by sea.

Someone screamed. From above him came panicked sounds. He ran, full tilt, up the walkway and stared, watching the unfolding scene. There were less people on the street than he imagined there would be. But then again, Ianto reflected, they'd had time react. The bolters had bolted. Those determined not to see anything beyond what they expected to see were pushing through a crowd composed of the third sort, the gawpers who milled and pointed and otherwise got underfoot during an emergency. Though his instincts continued to scream otherwise, Ianto jogged forward and then elbowed his way into the heart of the throng.

He gulped and stared as relief flooded over him. Not Cybermen. Not monsters. But definitely alien. There were six of them. Seven feet tall, if they were an inch, and that didn't include the plume of teal feathers that sprouted from the tops of their heads. More feathers covered their bodies, though those were more of a shocking lime green. Bright yellow beaks. It looked as if they'd painted them for the occasion. There were swirls of pink and dots of orange decorating the top ridge close to each creature's cheeks.

They were in high spirits, which was a good thing, because just as Lynn's fear had communicated itself to Ianto, the aliens' party mood seemed to be infecting the crowd. The remaining gawpers had their cameras and their mobile phones out and were snapping photographs. And the aliens, dear God, were posing for them, even though one of their number seemed to be embarrassed by all the attention.

Ianto reached for his comm. He was definitely going to need backup.

"Yes, Ianto?" Toshiko said brightly. She glanced at the clock on her display and made a moue of confusion. The new boy was pleasant and hard working. He seemed eager to fit in. But outside of what had become set times when he enquired about snacks or other meal requests, he rarely communicated with the rest of them once he began his shift in the information centre.

He spoke concisely, explaining the situation. Toshiko smiled at his discomfited tone. "Stand by, Ianto. Help is on the way."

Jack was at the desk he sometimes used. Suzie was bent over her worktable, disassembling a piece of alien technology whose purpose they'd yet to discern. Owen appeared to be playing video games as he nursed another hangover.

"We have a situation up top. Ianto says there's a party of inebriated tourists and they're causing a disturbance."

"Not our problem," Suzie said absently as she touched a probe to the guts of the circuit. "Tell him to call the cops. Drunks are their problem, not ours."

"Told you he looked like a lightweight," Owen chimed in. "Folding up at the first sign of trouble. Bloody amateur."

Toshiko frowned at him. Owen had been riding Ianto since he stepped through the door. "They're not the usual sort of tourists."

"What, you mean in addition to being drunk they're not terminally confused?" Owen retorted. He wasn't keen on tourists either. Actually, now that Toshiko gave it some thought, it seemed that Owen was an equal opportunity misanthrope.

"I think I see where this is going." Jack rose from his desk. "How much retcon do we need?"

Ianto breathed a sigh of relief as Torchwood Three arrived on scene. Captain Harkness had left the military coat behind, thank God, that would have put things over the top. But the Gucci jacket and shades were perfect, as was the swagger that the rest of the team affected.

"Sir!" Ianto gazed back at the group of Woucan tourists. They were busy teasing the constables who stood between them and the curious onlookers. Still in high spirits, and so far none the worse for wear for their experience, they were chatting happily amongst themselves. He on the other hand, felt more than a little frazzled.

A few sceptical observers remained, watching the more credulous from a safe distance. One man in particular seemed less than convinced by Ianto's cover story of test marketing for an upcoming Sci Fi summer blockbuster. He was still taking pictures. Suzie noticed him straight away and glared.

"Ignore him," the Captain said as he followed her line of sight. He licked his lips and smiled from behind his sunglasses. "Ianto Jones, theatrical publicist. You are a man of many hidden talents."

Ianto met his CO's gaze and mentally suggested what a few of those talents might be. He wasn't telepathic, but there were all sorts of wild stories about Captain Harkness. Even if he wasn't either, past experience had taught Ianto for what he was thinking, neither one of them needed to be.

Suzie cleared her throat, loudly. "If you two are finished, we have a situation here."

Ianto dropped his gaze. He could feel his cheeks redden from the rebuke. Evidently the moment had drawn out much longer than he'd thought. He'd have to be careful. He was getting as ensnared in this game as he'd meant the captain to be.

Harkness chuckled and clapped his hands together as if he needed to physically pull himself back on track. "What'd you tell those cops?" he asked. A ghost of a smirk still played around the captain's lips. For his part, he was cheerfully unrepentant.

"That it was a publicity stunt that had gone tits up." Ianto reddened again. "If you'll excuse the expression," he said to Toshiko. He doubted that Suzie would care about the crude turn of phrase. "That under those costumes were a troop of non-English speaking actors who got bored and decided to have some fun."

"How did you know what they were?" Owen asked. His narrow face was drawn into even more harsh lines, and his tone was suspicious.

Ianto shrugged and handed their translator module over to Captain Harkness. "Until now, I've no personal experience, but the Woucan are listed in the Torchwood database as harmless. Liable to cause disturbances due to their appearance, but non-aggressive. This group is on the equivalent of a hen party. They got inebriated and took a wrong turning, and with typical drunken logic decided to carry on with their plans."

"So let's bung them into the cells until they sober up," Owen said, clearly bored. And from the way he was squinting behind his glasses, eager to get out of the sunshine.

"Seems a shame. They've come such a long way and they're all gussied up. Look at the beak markings!" The Captain glanced at the hen party as he mulled alternatives. They were chittering and hooting softly. One was patting the guest of honour on the shoulder in a consoling manner. Another was attempting, through the use of sign language, to talk one of the constables out of his hat. "I know! How about a harbour cruise."

The entire team gaped. "You want the butler to trot them down the quay like ordinary tourists?" Suzie asked.

The Captain looked affronted. "Please. Give me a little credit. We'll host them ourselves. Show a little good will. We can't take the 'Queen because she's still having work done, but Ianto can charter a boat. Tosh can carry a camera to keep up the publicity story. We'll pack a lunch." It was obvious he'd already sold himself on the idea. "It'll be fun."

"The Queen, sir?" Ianto asked. It sounded like the name of a ship, but there hadn't been any mention of one in the documentation he'd reviewed.

"The Sea Queen," Jack replied. A dreamy expression broke over his features. "The sweetest little cruiser to hit the high seas."

Owen groaned. "Please don't get him started about that overgrown bath toy of his. Or better yet, do. Maybe if he talks enough he'll get over this ludicrous idea."

"You're just bitter because you get seasick," Jack retorted. "You can't truly appreciate how she goes flying over the chop."

Owen looked like he might counter-argue but Suzie cut him off. "Fine. Let's just get them off the street." She tucked some loose strands of hair back behind her ear and looked resigned as their leader strode jauntily towards the party of Woucan and their police escort.

Lynn felt like an idiot. The more she thought about it, the more she realised she'd overreacted. She'd seen film shoots before. Growing up in Southern California, you couldn't help it. They were like earthquakes and Santa Ana winds; an occasionally interesting but generally disruptive part of life. But there hadn't been any trucks or trailers. No cameras. No flock of assistants and hangers-on milling around drinking coffee and soda while the actual work got done. Just those big bird-like things. Costumed actors. That's what they must have been. Everyone else had panicked, so she had panicked. Maybe it was the beer. It was a lot stronger here than at home. People had warned her, but she hadn't really listened. Maybe she was still a little drunk from the night before and just hadn't realised.

Ianto seemed to be taking his time. Lynn glanced around. For an official tourist information office it was a pokey little place compared to the others where she'd stopped for maps and directions. She'd barely noticed it the first time she'd walked by. The second time, after she'd bolted, she'd nearly missed it completely. Surely leaving it unattended for a few minutes wouldn't get him into trouble.

She flipped the sign on the door to Closed, hoping that would dissuade any other passers-by, and stepped outside. It seemed quiet. There were no more sounds of running or panicking. Lynn ventured up the walkway and saw Ianto exchanging a questioning look with a tall, dark-haired man who flashed an overconfident smile in return.

He noticed her and held up his hand in greeting and then motioned for her to wait. Just beyond him another man and two women in dark glasses were escorting the 'monsters' away.

"Sorry I took so long," Ianto said. He spent a moment watching the other man stroll off and then gestured towards a large cement planter filled with summer flowers. They sat. Ianto cast his eyes briefly skyward and scowled before giving her a rueful smile. He had blue-grey eyes and as he glanced over at the departing actors, and again at the good looking guy in the Gucci jacket, they seemed stormy. "It was like I thought. Film people. Some of the actors thought it would be funny to get into costume and wind up the tourists. I'm sorry that they frightened you."

Lynn dropped her gaze. Her cheeks burned and she knew she was blushing. "I so totally overreacted. I don't know what I was thinking, but they looked so real. Props to the costumers and make up people. I was totally convinced." She glanced up. There hadn't been time to notice before, but he really was cute. "You were really brave, going out there. Can I buy you a coffee? For coming to my rescue."

Before Ianto could reply, he raised one hand to the Bluetooth headset that rested against his cheek. "I'm sorry," he mouthed before answering. "Yes, sir. No, sir. Fried chicken and chips. Isn't that …" He made a resigned sort of face. "Right away." Ianto pulled the headset off and stuck it into his pocket. "I appreciate the offer, but I've got to get back to work."

She was due to leave for Glasgow in the morning, and from the exchange she'd just witnessed between Ianto and the other man, he was probably gay anyway. Pity. It seemed a whirlwind holiday romance just wasn't in her cards. Lynn leaned over and gave him another kiss on the cheek. "Some other time?" She felt awkward and it seemed like the right thing to say.

He smiled. "Some other time."

It was probably her imagination, but just for a moment, Ianto very much looked as if he wished they could meet up in some other place and time, and that made Lynn feel inexplicably sad as she shouldered her handbag and walked back to her hotel.

Ianto watched Lynn rejoin the throng of pedestrians and disappear from view. He felt an intense urge to chuck his obligations and follow her. They'd had a meet-cute moment worthy of a romantic comedy. It was the sort of thing they could tell their kids about: Him working as a clerk in a tourist office. Her an American tourist on holiday, scared by a bunch of actors skiving off from a film shoot. She, being from Southern California, should have known better. But if she'd recognised them for what they were, they would have never met. He dashed to her assistance, leaving the safety of his information centre to investigate. Cue the kids rolling their eyes as he and Lynn re-enacted that first kiss. He rubbed at his cheek, remembering the soft brush of her lips, and felt a heavy wave of guilt wash over him. It was a charming story. For two other people.

Wearily, he rose to his feet. The others were waiting for him. Captain Harkness was waiting for him. Ianto was buffeted by a fresh wave of guilt as he realised he was beginning to look forward to another one of their innuendo-laced exchanges. How many double entendre would come out of their outing at sea? Could they avoid stumbling, accidentally on purpose, into one another's arms as the boat rode through the choppy water, precipitating another rom-com moment?

Ianto sighed as he fitted his headset back into place. Romantic comedies were for other people, their feel good moments carefully crafted by screenwriters. His story was a B picture nightmare, its horrors lifted from films that went straight to video. Or maybe it was a tragedy, with a love triangle that was destined to end in tears. Either way, unless there was a surprise twist, he doubted there would be a happy ending before the credits rolled.