Standard disclaimers apply: I do not own these characters.

I started this as a challenge, but soon realized that I wouldn't finish in time, so I decided that on the lead up to Torchwood series 3 I'd post 5 ficlets a day, with the last one being on the premiere. Here's hoping I come through. These ficlets are not related, but are simply things that could have happened. Some are funny, some are angsty, but all are Torchwood! Enjoy, and reviews are greatly appreciated.

Motion

Ianto raced through the alley, Jack hot on his heels. He could feel the adrenalin pumping, felt his muscles cramping, and let out an exhilarated burst of laughter. Ianto lengthened his stride as he raced to catch up with his quarry, his mind racing as fast as his feet as he formulated a plan of action. He could hear Jack's breaths behind him grow more ragged. Ianto could do this forever, just keep on running and never stop, but it was time to end this. Fumbling in his pocket, he managed to pull out the can of Weevil spray. Sprinting full-out, Ianto caught up with the weevil and sprayed it full in the face, finally coming to a halt.

Cool

Ianto hated these moments. Once again, he cradled his dead lover in his lap, waiting for a sign of life, hoping that Jack's luck hadn't run out. Ianto tenderly touched Jack's face – it was cold to the touch. He could take the lack of breathing, the too-still heart, but something about the lack of body heat brought Ianto close to tears. Even if only for a few minutes, gone was his warm, vibrant lover, replaced by this cold mannequin in his image.

Young

Jack was used to being older than his partners by now. Still, sometimes the generation gap would make itself obvious and Jack would remember just how different his experiences had been to everyone else's. It seemed to happen all too often with Ianto. Jack had jumped the first time he saw Ianto in SpongeBob boxers, and had to force himself not to laugh when he walked in to Ianto singing (and dancing) along with the Backstreet Boys while cleaning. Still, Jack reflected as he lay in his lover's arms, Jack might be practically an antique, but he was still young at heart.

Last

Tosh was worried about Ianto. He was always the first to arrive and the last to leave. At the end of the day, she powered down her workstation and was halfway across the Plass before Ianto crossed her mind. She had no plans for tonight, maybe she could convince Ianto to come have a drink with her, stop him from working quite so hard. Making up her mind, she headed back to the hub, using the tourist office entrance. As she entered, Tosh heard Jack shout as he descended from his office, "Ianto, where are the others?"

Ianto, appearing from a nook in the rift manipulator, replied with a mischievous look in his eyes, "I would appear to be the last one here, Sir."

With that, Jack drew Ianto into a deep kiss, stopping only to say, "My desk this time, do you think, Ianto?"

Blushing, Tosh crept back upstairs and left for home. Ianto obviously had things under control.

Wrong

Gwen remembered her first proper day at Torchwood. She had been listening to Tosh explain how to interpret the rift predictor when Ianto had interrupted to ask if any of them wanted any coffee.

"I'll have my usual, thanks Ianto," Tosh had replied gratefully.

"Of course. And you, Gwen?" Ianto asked as he turned towards her.

"Oh, I'm not much of a coffee person. I don't suppose there's any tea, is there?" Gwen said. "What?" she asked as Ianto stared at her, as if in horror.

"'Not a coffee person,'" he mimicked faintly. With a stronger voice, he determinedly stated, "that changes now."

Thus began the long campaign. However, Gwen could be very stubborn when she wanted, and despite the incessant 'you don't know what you're missing''s and 'it won't hurt you to try it''s, Gwen didn't let a drop of coffee pass her lips. That is, until she returned to the hub dripping wet after trying to catch and alien in the rain. She accepted a cup from Ianto and took a gulp without thinking. Two minutes later, she tapped Ianto on the shoulder.

Giving him a hug, she whispered in his ear, "I was wrong."