Ok, here goes. This story follows the Torchwood team as they fight to save a strange woman, and find out where she came from. I can't write summaries..

Well, review please. D

Ianto awoke with sunlight streaming through a small gap in his curtains. The light fell onto the face of the man lying beside him, highlighting the small stresses years of Torchwood work had left on him. He didn't look human. He looked like something much more, something Ianto couldn't quite place. Human, yes, but with a suggestion of god about him. As if he had witnessed the dawn of the universe, but also the final sunset, before the whole of existence plunged into darkness Ianto reached out his hand, and ran a finger down Jack's cheek, taking in his sheer beauty, a wonderful, terrible beauty. Jack's eyes flipped open, and a smile spread slowly across his face.

"Morning" he whispered, half-closing his eyes to block out the bright sunlight.

Ianto just stared at Jack, wondering when he had last felt like this. He wasn't even sure what this was - love, or infactuation, but, truthfully, he didn't care. Jack was here, now, and that was all that counted. He could have spent the whole day just looking at Jack, taking him all in. However, the tranquillity of the moment was shattered, when Jack's mobile went off. It was a dance track, one Jack had played over and over again when it first came out, and had never stopped liking. However, it was not an appropiate song for first thing on a Sunday morning.

"You gonna get that?" Ianto pressed Jack, reaching over for the phone, and handing it to Jack. Jack frowned.

"It's Owen, must be about work. Um.. will I answer it now?"

Ianto smiled. "I won't make a sound," he promised.

Instead, he shifted round, and looked out the window. The sun was blinding, causing him to shut his eyes tight. And, as if it had been waking for an opportunity, memories of past sunny day's spent with Lisa came flooding back to him, all at once, overpowering him. The day they went on the London Eye, that time they had sat outside on the grass and ate a whole tub of ice cream, that day she...

Ianto's eyes opened suddenly. No, he couldn't remember, not now. He had moved on. He still loved Lisa, would always love her, but he had Jack now. Memories were but a distraction.

"Oi, Ianto." Jack's voice came floating from what seemed miles away. He looked up and saw him standing in the bathroom, half dressed, staring intently at Ianto. "Get ready. We've gotta work. And wear that new suit, the black one. God, you look good in that."

Ianto smiled, and, albeit half-heartedly, pulled himself from the bed to get ready.

Work. It always came first where Jack was concered.

She knew something was wrong the minute she had got into the ship. She could just feel it, gut instinct. But she said nothing, chosing to risk a minor problem during flight rather than passing up her first opportunity to fly a solo mission. She had the regular T.A. uniform on, her khaki trousers, black boots, a black vest top and a khaki jacket over it. Her wavy, sunset-red hair was pulled back out her face, which itself was streaked with brown and green paint. They trusted her, knew she was up to the job.

It was simple, really. Standard assasination from the air. She'd been sniping since she was eight, and flying since she was ten. Now, twenty four years and three days, she was almost the perfect assassin. Save that gut instinct thing. She'd refused more missions than any other Agent, and they were growing annoyed with her, back at head quarters. So she chose to ignore her instinct, please the bosses, get the mission down.

Now, flying through the darkness, the ship malfunctioning, she knew she had made the wrong decision. She didn't panic, she went through every protocol. Emergency power, down. Connections with base, down. Oxygen, down. Even the parachute function seemed to have jammed.

"Shit. Shit shit shit."

She began to talk to herself, force herself to remain calm, and just as her breathing was about to escalate, she was thrown from the darkness. The light momentarily blinded her. By the time her sight returned to her, she was fifty feet from the ground. The landscape was unfamiliar, just a slope of green hills, jumpled about at random. She barely took anything in, before the ship slammed into the ground, throwing her through the windscreen, into the unfamiliar air, before landing about ten metres away. She heard a crack, felt a blinding pain like she had never experienced before in her life, before she was claimed by something, crawling through the darkness.