The soft, grey light of morning slowly crept across the sky. Misty dew hung suspended in the cool air over the quiet streets as day slowly came to the city. In a few short hours these same streets and sidewalks would be filled with people. But for now, they were quiet with all but a very few of the city's residents still asleep in their beds. Here and there through out the city a few people had the opportunity to experience the peaceful solitude of daybreak, most of them headed home after long night shifts occupied with their private reflections.
The tranquility of the empty plaza was disrupted by a sudden flash of blue light and a "pop" that could have been described as more seen than heard had anyone been present to witness the event. "I'll never get used to that," uttered the tall, attractive man who appeared at the source of the light, "Vortex manipulator," he muttered to himself, stumbling slightly, "without a doubt the universe's most unpleasant mode of transportation."
The man shook himself as he looked around. His eyes carefully studied the city around him. "Cardiff," he said to himself, "early 21st century, apparently." The man took a deep breath and turned to look at the structure behind him. "And they've rebuilt." He ran a hand through his movie star hair as he wondered how long it had been since he had last been here.
"Captain Harkness?" a voice called. The man turned in the direction of the voice. "Captain Harkness," the young woman said again.
The man nodded a confused expression on his face. "Sometimes," he answered vaguely.
"I have something meant for you." She held out her right hand, offering him a sealed white envelope.
"And you are?" the man asked. Taking the envelope she offered.
"Ashlynn Fredricks, Torchwood" the woman told him. "We've been waiting for you."
The man looked down at the envelope in his hand. A printed label bearing the words 'Captain Jack Harkness' had been affixed beneath a single handwritten word: 'Jack'. The handwriting seemed familiar, he had known it once. His eyes stared blankly as he searched his memory. "Gwen?" he said softly, recognition dawning in his blue eyes. He quickly tore open the envelope and pulled out the note inside. "Jack," he read, "Number thirteen Bannerman Road, Ealing. Just trust me. Gwen." He looked up at the woman who had delivered the note. "Sarah Jane Smith, why?" he asked.
"I'm afraid I don't know, sir," she said. "As far as I know, Gwen Cooper wrote that note years ago and it's been in the Torchwood files ever since. Torchwood was instructed to deliver the envelope to you, if for any reason she was unreachable upon your return."
"Unreachable as in…?" the former Time Agent prompted.
"Missing, dead or injured," the woman clarified. The man nodded absent-mindedly, still puzzling over the note in his hand and the mysterious fate of its writer. "There was a note underneath the instructions in the file," Fredricks continued. "Something about 'They'll need Jack.'" She shrugged indicating she did not know what it meant. The man nodded again and both figures turned to leave.
As she walked back the way she had come, Ashlynn Fredricks turned back towards the retreating figure of the former head of Torchwood 3. "By the way," she called after him, "welcome back, Captain Jack!" Hearing her words, the man smiled sadly. It seemed Captain Jack Harkness was back, whether he was ready or not.