1983

'No, Mum. Look, I'm sorry alright.... yes I know Auntie Brenda's in hospital.... I'm sorry but Ifan can't just shut up the shop.... Mum, don't be like that.... because he's my husband and he's a good man...'

Jack Harkness watched the woman in the phone box with interest. She was certainly his type; dark hair, blue eyes. She sounded as though she was married though, that was a pity. She certainly had nice legs. Then the woman turned to the side and there was no mistaking the bump – she was pregnant.

Jack smiled to himself. He'd always found pregnancy slightly erotic. He felt vaguely guilty for thinking that way about a pregnant, married stranger but fantasies hurt nobody and she was gorgeous.

'Jack.'

The voice in his ear startled him from his thoughts.

'Have you found it yet?'

'No Phil,' he replied. 'I lost the signal. It's probably a false alarm. Weevils don't come out in the daytime.'

'Yeah, you're probably right. Ok, I guess you'd better come back in.'

Jack began walking back towards his car. He had just rounded the corner when he heard the scream. Turning suddenly, Jack saw the screaming was coming from the woman in the phone box.

The Weevil was snarling and trying to open the door to get to her. She was holding on to the handle and trying desperately to keep the door closed.

'Help me!' she was screaming. 'Please, somebody help!'

Jack didn't wait. He raced towards the weevil and flung himself at it. The weevil, sensing the new threat, rounded on him and lunged. Jack pulled his gun out but was a fraction too slow. The weevil sliced his arm as he attempted to dodge it and he fell to the floor, losing his weapon in the process.

The weevil moved in for the kill. Jack flinched, this was going to hurt.

There was a gunshot.

Jack opened his eyes. He looked around; the weevil was lying on the floor beside him; temporarily incapacitated.

Phone- box lady was standing in front of him; holding Jack's gun. He hands were shaking and she looked terrified.

'Oh my God,' she whispered. 'What have I done?'

'It's ok,' Jack said softly as he got to his feet.

'I killed... it. What the hell is it?'

'It's called a Weevil.' Jack answered honestly. 'It's an alien.'

'I didn't mean to kill it,' she continued. Clearly what Jack said hadn't registered with her in the shock. 'It was going to kill you; it was going to kill me; my baby.'

Jack reached out his hand and carefully took the gun from her shaking hands.

'You did the right thing,' he told her as he holstered the gun inside his coat.

'Are you feeling ok?'

She nodded her head slowly.

'Sit down right there,' he led her over to a bench. 'I'll be back ok? I need to take care of this and then I'll give you a ride home.'

Again she nodded he head.

Jack dragged the Weevil to his car and dumped it in the boot. Then he made his way back to where phone- box lady was sitting

'I'm Captain Jack Harkness,' he introduced himself.

'I'm Gladys, Gladys Jones.'

'Nice to meet you, Gladys, Gladys Jones,' he smiled.

'Thank you, Captain,' Gladys whispered. 'You saved me and my baby.' She placed her hands protectively on her stomach.

'How far along are you?' he asked. He needed her to calm down. Giving her Retcon while she was in a panicked state could harm the baby. Jack decided the best thing was to get her talking.

'Seven months. It's my second. I've got a little girl, Rhiannon – she's two. I left her with my neighbour while I popped out. Oh God that thing could have killed her.'

'It's ok,' Jack soothed her. 'She's safe. Thought about names yet for this little one?'

'Well – I like the name Myfanwy if it's a girl and then if it's a boy my husband Ifan wants to name him Ianto.'

'Ianto Jones – that's a good name.'

'Ifan's desperate for a little boy. I mean he'd love another girl too but he really wants a son, keeps saying he'll play rugby for Wales.'

Jack smiled. Gladys seemed to be calming.

'I'll give you a lift home,' he said.

'Was – that thing – really an alien?'

Jack nodded.

'Yes, Gladys it was – it's called a weevil. They come from another planet – we're not sure where exactly. They fall through a rift in space and time; end up in Cardiff; live in the sewers.'

Gladys opened and closed her mouth several times as she attempted to process this information.

'But – but what are you going to do with it?'

'I work for an organisation that deals with this sort of thing. We're called Torchwood.'

'Oh,' Gladys replied; apparently at a loss for anything else to say.

Jack grinned.

'Come on, I'll take you home.'

Five minutes later Jack pulled his car up outside Gladys Jones's house. It was a typical terrace on a quiet street. The area seemed rather well- to- do Jack thought.

'Will you come in for a drink, Captain? It's the least I can do.'

Jack flashed the trademark Harkness grin.

'I'd love to,' he replied and stepped out of the car making sure to pocket the Retcon as he did so.

'It'll have to be tea, I'm afraid; unless you can figure out how to use this thing.' She gestured to a new looking coffee machine standing on the worktop. 'I have no idea how it works. Ifan tells me it's simple but I can't get it to work. Of course I'd be happy with instant but Ifan,' she let out a sigh, 'he thinks suggesting you drink instant coffee is blasphemy.'

Jack laughed.

'I'll make it,' he said as they entered the kitchen. 'You have a seat – you're still shaken up.'

'Oh – thank you, Captain.'

'Please – Jack. Call me Jack.'

'Jack...' Gladys whispered.

She looked at him while he was making a pot of tea. He was gorgeous. He'd been so heroic charging to her rescue like that. It had been – sexy. She'd never been a damsel in distress before. Then she felt the baby kicking and she brought her hand to her stomach. She felt vaguely guilty and wondered of the baby was picking up on her thoughts.

'Shh,' she soothed. 'I was only having a look – he's nowhere near as good looking as your daddy.'

'What was that?' Jack asked.

Gladys blushed but tried to act innocent. She hadn't meant to speak out loud.

'Oh – nothing; I was just thinking, how close that thing came to hurting my little one.'

'Drink your tea,' Jack said. 'You'll feel better.'

Gladys did.

Jack drove back towards the Hub with the weevil still in the boot of his car. He smiled thinking about Gladys Jones.

That chick had balls.

He wondered if he would ever see her again. It was unlikely. She wouldn't remember him anyway – he'd planted nicer memories in her brain. She would remember talking with her mother on the phone, wandering around the shops and looking at baby clothes before taking the bus home and going for a lie down.

Two months later Jack was at his desk absentmindedly flicking through the local newspaper when he came across the notices section. There it was in black and white.

Ifan and Gladys Jones are proud to announce the birth of their son Ianto Dylan Jones.

Jack smiled.

'Welcome to the world Ianto Jones,' he said softly to himself. 'Maybe we'll run into each other some time.'