Around one man, rubble extended as far as the eye could see, dust hanging in the air and the screams of victims intermingling with those of sirens in the distance. One sound drowned them out though; the sound of his shouting.

"Lisa! Lisa!" he yelled, as he'd been doing since he first came back from the morning snack run to see the devastation. He still gripped a brown paper bag with a blueberry danish in one hand - a treat to be snuck to the woman he was calling for.

Movement caught his eye, and he ran over and dropped to his knees, uncaring of the hard concrete beneath him or the grime that was covering his expensive suit.

"Lisa…" He leaned down, ran his finger gently over her cheek. "Don't try to talk. It'll be alright, you'll see." Tears ran down his face now that the reality of what had occurred sank in.

"Ianto." Her voice was raspy and weak, and he tried to shush her, get her to save her strength. "I love you, Ianto." Her eyes fluttered closed, but she was smiling up at him.

"I love you too. I love you too." He was smiling back as he pulled her close, and held tight until all vestiges of warmth had left her body. Then, he stood up slowly, brushed the dirt and dust from himself, and walked away from the wreckage, away from London, and away from Torchwood.

Three Years Later…

Jack looked around the club with a pout on his face. The first night off he'd had in months, and there was no one pretty out. He glanced in the mirror behind the bar and grinned. One exception, of course. And the second had just walked in.

Jack picked up his glass, and wandered down the other end of the bar, most charming smile on his face. "Nice suit."

"Thanks." The newcomer looked at him, blue eyes bright and intense even in the dim light. "Nice coat."

"Thanks," Jack echoed, "Want something to drink?"

"Actually, I came in here for the fun family atmosphere and fantastic music." The sarcasm was so thick it was almost palpable.

Jack smirked. "Whiskey?"

"Neat."

Jack nodded approvingly, indicating to the bartender his choice, and ordering another for himself. "So, do I get a name?"

"Ianto. You?"

"Captain Jack Harkness, at your service." He extended his neck, in a motion that was almost a bow, and Ianto smirked.

"I certainly hope so."

"Of course, I didn't get a last name, Ianto…"

Despite his terrible attempt at fishing for details, Ianto decided to humour the man. "Jones. Ianto Jones."

Jack tilted his head in a considering fashion. "Have we met before? Your name seems oddly familiar."

Ianto chuckled, a low and dirty sound that made Jack's toes curl. "There must be a thousand Welsh men out there named Ianto Jones. I hate to break it to you, but it's a fairly common name."

"I guess so." He tilted his glass in Ianto's direction. "To the prettiest, if not only, Ianto Jones in Wales."

Ianto woke with his hands cuffed above his head. His wrists tensed, but he made no other movement, hoping to catch his captor off guard.

"I've been around long enough to know when a man is faking it, Ianto Jones." The American twang suddenly sounded less attractive, and Ianto's eyes opened to glare at Jack.

"Before we start again," he said, forcing his voice to stay casually flirtatious and not at all nervous, "you should know, my safe word is 'Hooligan'."

"Really? But that's an issue to explore another time, Ianto. See, I don't forget the name of someone as pretty as you in a hurry. So, last night, after you were all… worn out, I had a quick look on the computers to see how I knew your name."

His mind raced over the possibilities. Jack's accent pointed toward UNIT, but the few times he'd run into anyone from there, it had been for consultation work. Could be CIA, NSA, MIB, or MI5, but he hadn't done anything recently to draw attention to himself. Who would possibly be looking for him?

Ianto breathed out slowly, internally reciting expletives in thirteen languages, only six of which were human. "Torchwood Three, I presume."

"Mmmhmm." Jack sounded far too pleased with himself considering how little he had done to catch Ianto. "Seven hundred and ninety six employees at Torchwood One. Seven hundred and fifty-three dead, forty-two ret-conned. And you, Ianto Jones. The only one to slip through the cracks."

Ianto laughed, bitter and loud. "We all slipped through the cracks, Captain Harkness. All of us. I'm just the only one who stayed there. Now cut the crap. I would rather die than live without my memories of Lisa, so why don't you just pull out the gun, and get it over with."

"There is one other option, you know." Jack was looking far too casual. Ianto hadn't survived this long without knowing how to read people, and his instincts were telling him that Jack was up to something.

"And what other option would that be?" It slipped out, Ianto curious despite his misgivings.

"Come work for me."

"This job offer. Is it solely based on the fact that I managed to stay away from Torchwood for three years? Because I hate to break it to you, but it wasn't that hard." He was doing his best to keep up with the verbal war, but mused that it might be easier bargaining from a position of power if he weren't only partially covered by a pale blue sheet, which slid down further with every movement.

"You'd be surprised at how few people can stay away from me when I want them." The grin Jack shot at Ianto was supremely confident. "Why wouldn't I hire you? According to the various files I've seen on you, you'd be perfect. Fluent in several languages, proficient in both hand to hand combat and with most weapons, a photographic memory, and according to some very reputable sources, producer of, and I quote, 'the best coffee in three galaxies'."

"Plus, I look great in a suit."

Jack ran his eyes up and down Ianto, and smiled slow and lazy. "Even better out of it. So?"

"You want an answer now?" Ianto asked incredulously.

"I don't really see why you need to think so hard. Come work for me, or forget that this ever happened. Simple choices."

When Ianto spoke, it was in a hard, harsh tone. "You really are a bastard, aren't you? Don't answer that."

Jack didn't move, still staring directly at the other man.

"Fine. I'll work for you. But two years, that's all you get."

"Four." Jack bargained instantly.

"Three."

"Great." From the way he was beaming, Ianto guessed that three years was what Jack had wanted all along.