A/N: Hello to anyone reading! For those of you who have read 'Ianto Jones's Diary' my other fic (which I am still working on, I plan to write both simultaneously!), this is similar sort of idea but from Jack's POV instead of Ianto's. I am basically trying to create Jack's commentary to his developing relationship with Ianto and tie up some of the loose ends/fill in the gaps between various moments between the two characters. Whereas my other story remains quite focused on the adventures of the team along with the Jack and Ianto story, in this one it is much more focused on just Jack an Ianto - after all we already have the Captain's view on most things from the show! It's basically just about me having a bit of fun trying to capture the nature of their relationship which is never really established until series 3. Hope you enjoy, reviews are welcomed! Hannah xxx

NB: I am only going to say this once (it's too much effort to keep writing it!) as predicted I own nothing sadly, all characters etc are properties of the BBC and Russell and the gang.


Work today had been fairly standard, a Weevil sighting at 11.00 am and an intercepted police call about a headless man wandering the streets of Cardiff that turned out to be a teenager's prank. The rift seems to be taking a vacation. About the most exciting thing that happened all day was Owen mouthing off to Suzie about some of his dissecting kit that she had borrowed and broken and Suzie returning with as good as she got. As usual Tosh was on the outside of it all, sensibly sticking to the rift alert programme she was working on.

As for me well, with nothing much to do, I was just observing everyone else doing nothing… UNIT had asked for me to dig up the file we have on the Gelth, I have no idea why it centuries since their attack and there's never been a return, but I'll be damned if I'm doing that any time soon. The archives are in a right state and it could take days to find them; maybe I'll just get Owen to do it if he turns up late again tomorrow.

I sent everyone home at six; I couldn't stand listening to Owen and Suzie arguing any longer. I'm not sure exactly what's been going on between them, the sexual tension between them in a room used to be unbearable, but now they just fight all the time. I noticed Toshiko seemed slightly pleased by their falling out; she must have fancied Owen for nearly a year now; I doubt she'll ever make a move though. It still seems odd to me how shy people from the 21st Century can be, she's intelligent and beautiful there's no need for her lack of confidence.

PC Wilson called at about 10.00 pm; a 'Werewolf' (Weevil) had been sighted lurking on the outskirts of the city. I didn't want to call the rest of the team back in, and I was fairly sure I could handle one Weevil by myself; after all it could only kill me. So I headed out by myself, risking it with a sedative as my only weapon.

As I took off in the SUV I had the strangest feeling that someone was following me, the same car had been driving behind me for a good few miles, and then parked on the same street as me- only a couple of cars apart. Weird.

Well, capturing the Weevil didn't go quite to plan…

I chased her into a small park on the edge of town, I expected to see a few youths still hanging about but the park appeared to be deserted.

I lunged at the Weevil from behind and started wresting her to the floor, but the bitch sunk her teeth into my neck before I could get a sack over her head or inject the tranquiliser. No matter how quickly I knew it would heal, it bloody hurt and my grip loosened, I thought I was going to lose her.

Then out of nowhere an unfamiliar figure appeared, striking the Weevil across the back knocking her temporarily to the floor. But the young man was inexperienced and startle, and so didn't react quickly enough when she bounced straight back up again – this one was a tough old bird.

As she held him pinned to the ground, about to rip his flesh with her fangs I quickly gave her the tranquiliser.

I turned to face a rather alarmed and surprised young man, who was gasping for breath. Even with his dark hair matted from the struggle, his clothing now grass stained and his face drained white in the moonlight, he was still gorgeous. He had an adorably boyish face; slight dimples hinted a small and delicate mouth, perfectly shaven jawline and pale blue eyes. I grinned widely and thanked him – there's nothing like a spot of Weevil hunting in order to pick up guys… or girls… or something equally beautiful.

"Jones, Ianto Jones" He said in an attractive Welsh accent, when I asked for his name. Ianto, such a traditionally Welsh name, it suited him.

My smile stopped all together when he mentioned Weevils. I tried to blow it off, but I think he saw through it. Damn it if he wasn't cute I might have knocked him out there and then- taken him back to the hub and administered the retcon.

Nobody knows about the Weevils aside from us and nobody should know. No matter how hot he was, if he's encountered Weevils before or is even just aware of their existence he could be a threat. I'm going to have to get Toshiko to run a background check on Jones, Ianto Jones first thing in the morning.

I couldn't help smiling a little to myself though as he complimented my coat, was he trying to flirt with me or simply catch my attention? I didn't respond though, I'll wait until we've eliminated him as a potential risk before I allow him to appreciate my dress sense.

I'm not sure what to do about this one; the information that Tosh has found on him has made me sure that our run in last night was more than a coincidence. I think he has been researching Torchwood Three and has managed to track us down.

At first glance, he was harmless; just an average citizen of Cardiff, with a minor shoplifting incident from his teens being his only claim to shame.

But he worked for Torchwood One. Torchwood one who fell and died under the hands of the Cybermen and the Daleks only a few months ago. Torchwood one who had killed so many innocent creatures just because they were scared. Torchwood one who still saw my Doctor as the enemy… I don't care if he was only a junior researcher, he was still part of all of that and I don't want anything to do with him, to do with anyone who worked for that monstrosity. And if I ever see his prefect face around here again I will make that very, very clear.

Job sorted. I spotted him on the CCTV hanging around the entrance to the tourist office this morning and after it became clear that he wasn't leaving any time soon I went up to get rid of him.

I have to admit that a) he was even more attractive in daylight and without the wearing effects of a Weevil attack, and b) he sure knows how to make one hell of a cup of coffee. Of course none of this was enough to change my mind about him.

When I reeled off the information we had found on him, he looked almost pleased, as if he thought it meant I was interested in hiring him. I told him that we were nothing to do with Torchwood one, I need to separate us from that corrupted mess.

He started begging, offering to work for nothing; he was quickly becoming irritating so I lashed out:

"There is no job for you here and there never will be" I stated bluntly, coldly.

I had to force myself to remember what he had belonged to in order to keep my resolve when he a look of sheer disappointment fell across his face.

"I really like that coat" he called out in desperation.

I turned and started walking away from the hub. I needed to go somewhere and think, to find a roof to stand on and clear my head. It sounds crazy, but I always feel closer more alive, closer to the stars and my past when alone, so high up. The team could manage without me for an hour or so.

I returned to work within the hour, I hadn't managed to clear my head at all. I was hoping work might be a distraction, but I spent half the day on the phone with Brigadier Marsterson (God I hate that man) from UNIT and there was not even so much as Weevil sighting to divert my thoughts. Even confiscating the Gameboy I found Owen using when he should have been finishing off some back dated medical reports didn't cause the usual joy. I just hope that's the last I see of Jones, Ianto Jones.

He just won't give in! I practically ran him over just now. I haven't changed my mind, I still can't offer a job to so someone who was associated with Torchwood London and what they stood for. But this pterodactyl sure does sound interesting… and that suit looks rather fetching…

He had the cheek to look down on my lack of equipment! I think I know how to catch a dinosaur thankyouverymuch Mr junior researcher.

When he mentioned my aftershave I thought he was simply still trying to flirt his way into a job. But he seemed genuinely surprised when I told him it was simply my pheromones… not that I would expect him to understand what 51st Century pheromones were. I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from laughing at the inappropriateness of his timing; we were about to storm in on a pterodactyl with no weapons and he was bringing up my 'aftershave'.

He was still begging me for a job even whilst we were thinking of a strategy. He said he was willing to even work as a butler. Perhaps I should break the habit of a lifetime and give him a second chance – to work for Torchwood but the right Torchwood this time? It would be going against my personal principles to hire a former employee of Torchwood London, but perhaps it was worth the risk. He seemed so enthusiastic about this pterodactyl after all. The way he interacted with the it, gently offering it the chocolate, not wanting to capture it through hurting it or backing away in fright, just calmly reacting to its movements

Maybe I was too hard on this guy, he was just a researcher, he never called any shots over at Torchwood one, he was never responsible for the needless deaths, he probably didn't even know the full nature of what went on there. And yet he has been left with the scarring memories of all that death and destruction from the fall of Canary Wharf, it doesn't seem right. He's barely an acquaintance, but I imagine that he must be wearing quite a mask, to cover up the pain from it all.

I barely had time to think about all of this however, as I suddenly I ended up circling around the roof of the warehouse we were inside, clutching to a dinosaur's leg. Nobody can say that times with the Captain are ever dull.

He stood arms out, ready to catch me when I fell. If I had the time I would have told him that he should move out of the way, that I would heal quite easily even if I was dropped from 10 times higher than this, that he could be more seriously hurt just through catching me than I through falling.

But as it was I didn't have the time, so I landed directly on top of him.

Suddenly he realised, sooner than I did, that the sedated pterodactyl was quickly making it descent. He rolled over taking me with him, and with him lying on top of me we just stayed there laughing for a second or two. Yes, a Welshman as beautiful and thoughtful as this was definitely worth taking a risk for.

Quite abruptly he got up seeming flustered, I suppose I position was a little awkward, and went to walk away. I gave him the news he had been waiting to hear, told him to report for work first thing in the morning. He just carried on walking. I tried his tactics:

"Love the suit" I said, and I did.

He paused but didn't turn back, perhaps he felt a little embarrassed about what had just happened. But he started flirting first didn't he? Or maybe that's just me; I put added innuendo onto every innocent compliment.

I have no doubt that he'll turn up for work tomorrow though, bright and early.