Just a fun idea when I first saw the woman who lived. Not sure how long this little ficlet will go for, but I figured it would be fun for two accidental immortals to meet each other.

The sharp wind was blowing off Cardiff bay, causing the birds to dance uncertainly on the breeze before winging off in search of a more sheltered landing site.

The woman walked across the square, her hand held her coat tightly closed as the wind tried to tear it open. It was late autumn in Wales and the storm clouds were racing across the sky, signaling the onset of another storm.

She held a crumpled piece of paper in her hand, though she had long since memorized what it said. It held a name, address and directions but nothing more. She paused when she came to stand by a shining steel fountain, the spray misting around the base before settling in a damp pool around it.

She found herself suddenly assaulted by nerves, the fact that her search that had lasted for so long was finally nearing an end filled her stomach with butterflies the size of eagles. She didn't know what to expect when she walked through that door, and though the years had tempered her somewhat she still had not lost all of her wild ways.

Everything that she had learned of this organization called Torchwood told her that they would know of her presence in the square almost as soon as she head entered it, but most likely would think she was merely a tourist pausing before the stunning fountain. She knew that they wouldn't start to worry until she made her way into their little shop.

Her fingers tightened once more around that little piece of paper, before she lifted her head high and made her way across the square and down the little boardwalk that ended in the shop that she was seeking. With a final deep breath, she opened the door and quickly stepped inside.

She paused to let her eyes roam over the cramped interior of the shop, the counter was unoccupied for the moment though there was a little rack of travel brochures against one wall. It wasn't much of a tourist shop, but it seemed pretty obvious that the intent of the store was not to do a thriving business.

The bell above the door had signaled her arrival and it was only a matter of moments before a rather handsome man in a dark gray suit with a smart red button down shirt came out from what was obviously a back room. He was the first sign that this shop was not all it was cracked up to be, though most people wouldn't even notice. He was far too clean cut, and the suit far more expensive than a simple shop worker should be able to afford, not unless he was a rich kid slumming it with the working class.

"Can I help you? Are you looking for a boat tour, or maybe a map of Cardiff's historical treasures?" His voice was low and cultured, his eyes moving over her from head to toe in a rapid scan that she knew was cataloguing everything even as he tried to interest her in a bit of nonsense.

She had played this game many times in the past, she was a master of it actually especially when the target was particularly easy on the eye. She decided to play along for a few moments to get his guard down, before she revealed her true purpose. Besides she still hadn't figured out where the entrance to Torchwood's secret base was hidden, most likely it was in the back room where this man had been waiting.

"Oh, I don't know. Historical treasures bore me really, so many old, moldering pieces of metal and stone that some historian somewhere said once belonged to a king or a poet or some other equally boring person." She'd always found that the bored little girl voice worked the best, made her seem less threatening when she was trying to dig for information. Ten thousand hours to master a skill. One hundred thousand to become the best that ever was.

His smile was engaging even as he reached over for another pamphlet on Cardiff's night life, though his eyes still followed her every move. Oh he was good, she thought. He was obviously well trained, though he was enjoying the playful flirting.

"Well there are some good night spots in Cardiff as well if you're looking for a good time. One right across the bay that has actually just opened that might do the trick."

She leaned over the counter presumably to look at the brochure he was holding open for her, ruby red lips leaning close to his ear as she whispered. "Actually, I've changed my mind. There is one particular historical artifact I would like to see in Cardiff."

The young man jerked back at the whisper of her breath against his neck, his eyes wary at the sudden intent look on her face. "Which one would that be? Maybe we have a brochure for it here?"

She laughed as he continued the game, oh this could be so much fun and she could easily wrap him around her finger if she tried, though he was not the one that she was aching to finally meet. Now he was only standing in her way. "I highly doubt you have a brochure on it, though with what I've read about it anything is possible." She had his attention now, and as his hand moved towards a button on the underside of his counter, she just shook her head with a sultry laugh. "I'm looking for Captain Jack Harkness and I think he will be very interested in meeting me."

The man's hand continued its progress towards the panic button, his face completely impassive except for a slight tick at the corner of his left eye. "I'm sorry, I don't recognize that name. You must have the wrong shop."

Her brow arched towards the hand that was nearly at the button, which had now paused in its tracks. "Then why are you about to hit a panic button? This shop doesn't exactly look like it has much, not enough for a robber to get much out of should they even bother, so why have a panic button in the first place?"

She continued to lean against the counter, her chin steepled on her raised hands as she eyed his every movement. She knew he was armed, though his suit jacket hid it very well and she would rather not have to deal with gunshots at this moment so she decided to try to put him at ease. "I'm not here to harm him, though from what I've discovered that's impossible anyways. We're kindred souls so to speak, Mr….?"

The young man pulled his hand back up onto the counter so that she could keep an eye on it, but the interest in his eyes was unmistakable as was the mistrust. "You seem to know an awful lot about him." He answered, unwilling to give her an inch and so refusing to answer the question that she had left hanging.

She shook her head with a soft laugh. "Tsk, tsk. Young people in this century are so very rude."

His eyes widened like saucers at her words, his hand reaching behind his back before he paused at the look in her eyes. "Just pick up the phone and call him. Tell him the Doctor sent me."

It seemed she had said the right thing to at least get him to pick up the phone, his eyes never leaving her body as he pressed an intercom button in the center of the phone. She stood there watching him with a bored expression on her face, betraying none of the excitement or terror that was ripping through her at this moment. "Jack, there's a woman here who claims that the Doctor sent her to you."

He looked her over once more before turning his attention back to the phone. "She's younger, dark hair and rather petite." A pause. "No she doesn't look like any that we know."

He was silent for a few moments more before he nodded. "Right away. What was your name Ma'am?"

"He wouldn't recognize it, but tell him I am called Ashildr."