LISA HALLET wiped the tears from her cheeks on the sleeve of her coat quite unable to hold back her shrieks of laughter. Ianto finished relating his tale of his elevator encounter with the extremely weird and wacky Professor Christine Blakely, who was old enough to be his grandmother and mad enough to qualify for commitment into somewhere far more secure than Torchwood.

"My jaw's aching Ianto, stop making me laugh. God, I bet my mascaras everywhere." Lisa's massive earrings finally stopped swinging about. She dabbed at her eyes with a perfectly manicured fingertip a deep red nail polish matching the colour of her lover's shirt. They both had a red fetish. Lisa was still smiling bright white at him as they sat opposite one another on the tube train heading home to Brixton. He held her right hand in his left as always they sat facing one another on their commute to and from work so that they could look at each other. It felt so good being alive right now and holding Lisa's soft hand made Ianto appreciate every moment of it. Life seemed to begin a fresh every morning with her beautiful face and brilliant smile. They both leaned forward at the same time and kissed oblivious to the passengers around them. The woman sitting next to Ianto got out her mobile phone and took a photo of their full on snogging and sent it to her boyfriend with a text message, C U soon baby looking 4ward to some of this xxxxx. Lisa and Ianto hadn't a care and didn't stop what they were doing until it was time to get off at the end of the Victoria Line.

They had arranged to meet Lisa's sister in the West End at 8pm but going home and getting ready to go straight back out was rather delayed by the distractions of being naked together in the shower. They were nearly an hour late for the rendezvous but Tifani didn't mind because she and Greg had been late themselves for pretty much the same reason. As per usual for their Thursday night jaunts a Chinese in Soho then stopping off at various bars in theatre land. It was always a good laugh and tonight was no exception. Ianto had them all in hysterics when Lisa demanded he retold his elevator story. At 1am they parted company with Tifani and Greg and went to get the night bus home. It was 2:30am before they got in.

Ianto slammed his fist down on the alarm clock and groaned, 6am already. Too early, but he had to get up as it was his turn to get out of bed earlier than Lisa so that they both had time for a shower. He stood in the shower cabinet under the stream of scalding water trying to wake himself up, with little success. Hung over and tired, he just knew it was going to be a long day. The journey into work was a quiet contemplative affair. Lisa and Ianto sat opposite one another foreheads together, eyes closed and hands held. It was just as wonderful as any other journey with Lisa as far as Ianto was concerned, even with the hangovers.

They said good-bye in reception and Ianto took the stairs to basement level three. He settled himself down at his desk and turned on his terminal and logged in. As soon as he'd done that he went to the coffee machine and helped himself to a double expresso deluxe with extra sugar and a Danish pastry. He'd have to run that off over the weekend. Carrying his 'breakfast' back to his desk he was greeted by Sophie, the only other person who had come in before eight thirty. They exchanged smiles but didn't speak; it was way too early in the morning for sensible conversation. Back at his desk Ianto started going through his emails. Only four of those. He then set about the task of continuing to add to the astronomics database alongside running the analysis program he'd been learning to use over the last few weeks. Ianto was completely absorbed in his work as one by one his various colleagues came in, talked in muted voices and helped themselves to coffee and cakes. Ianto muttered a couple of replied greetings to a couple of 'Good mornings' but he didn't look up from his work until lunchtime.

He pushed himself back from his desk and rubbed at his eyes. Yep, bad hangover, really kicking in now! He vaguely wondered how he was going to get through the afternoon with his head pounding and his stomach churning like a washing machine. One particularly loud gurgle caused him to clutch at his stomach and glance round mildly embarrassed. It was such a quiet office he was sure everyone had heard that! All he could hear was the muted clacking of computer keys and the electronic hum from the hard drive on his desk. Ianto rose from his seat and went to through the swing doors to the gents rather hurriedly when he realised he needed to throw up. Last night's dodgy food no doubt. Twenty minutes later he was washing his pale face thinking about carrots. When he straightened up to look at himself in the mirror he saw a strange, wild looking man standing right behind him with a handgun levelled at Ianto's head. Ianto gripped the edge of the sink terrified. The man glared at Ianto's reflection in the mirror, his black eyes like stones.

"Step back, you're coming with me."

Ianto couldn't budge his hands had locked. He stood there rigid.

"I said move!"

Ianto flinched. "I er…. I'm stuck." He only just managed to blurt it out. A balled fist came out of nowhere striking Ianto hard across the side of the head. The impact slammed him against the white tiled wall.

"Fucking move you prick."

Ianto's shaking hand went straight to his left cheek; it was wet with his blood. He lurched to unsteady feet the barrel of the gun less than six inches away from his face. A hand reached forward and grabbed the front of Ianto's shirt.

"Come on!"

Ianto was pushed through the door into the corridor that lead back to his office and the lifts. He froze there as ten machine guns were raised. Torchwood troops lined the passageway on either side. Ianto was yanked back a pace, the powerful man holding on to him like a vice. Ianto was paralysed with fear, his eyes darting from one group of soldiers to the other.

"You let me out or he dies."

Whoever he was, his breath stank. Ianto wanted to be sick again and he could feel the sensation going adrift in his legs, but his assailant held on tighter than ever. The gun waving about in Ianto's peripheral vision.

"We can't do that Michael, you know that." A voice from one of the masked soldiers to Ianto's left called back. The grip around Ianto's chest tightened. Ianto thought he was going to pass out.

"Come on Michael, let him go. You're not leaving this building under any circumstances so why not give him up peacefully."

The man, Michael was getting desperate, "No fucking way. You take me out, he goes with me!"

Tears streamed down Ianto's bruised face. "Please, let me go." He sobbed. He could feel the cold barrel of the gun jammed against his temple. The sound of thunder exploded in his head.

DIARY : NEW ENTRY: I'm off work for a few days. The Torchwood medical officer thingy has written a certificate for a week. It's the first time I've had to take time off since I started there. I'm still reeling from what happened, never dreamed I'd ever be held hostage. I can't believe how incredibly useless I was. First I freeze, and then I go and pass out. How embarrassing is that?! Good job I'm not in the army or anything really, can you imagine that? I know one thing I've never been so scared but even weirder still was being quite exhilarated by the whole experience and feeling totally wired. I was told I'd come down from that in a couple of days. My cheekbone is fractured from when he punched me so I look like I've a melon in my mouth. Poor Lisa though, she was very upset and has been very affectionate. I'm not going to tell Mam though. I think it might upset her too much.

I wonder who that guy actually was. I can't believe they shot him when he had a gun pointed at my head. Made me feel really wanted. I don't think the Torchwood soldiers would've cared one way or the other about what would happen to me. That doesn't inspire me with confidence and if that truly was the case. Think I need a double espresso now. ENTRY CLOSES