1987

The first time Jack Harkness entered Jones & Sons Tailor's shop it was because it was his last hope.

The proprietor, Ifan Jones studied the coat, well, that is to say what was left of the coat, very carefully; and there wasn't much. The right sleeve was torn almost completely off and the back looked as though it had been shredded by something very sharp.

'You're my last hope,' Jack said to him. 'I've tried a couple of other places and they said I should just throw it out.'

Ifan Jones shook his head.

'Let me guess – you went to Martin Allen?'

Jack nodded. Ifan Jones rolled his eyes.

'That sounds like something he would say. He can work a sewing machine just fine but he has no eye for detail.'

'Do you think you can fix it? It's very special to me.'

'It will take me a few days Mr Harkness, and I'll need to order in this particular fabric. We don't get much call for 1940's military wear around here.'

Jack looked relieved.

'Thank you so much Mr Jones. Whatever the cost, I'll pay it.'

'May I ask how the coat got damaged?'

Jack shifted uncomfortably.

'It was an accident. Work related – I can't really discuss it.'

Ifan nodded.

'I'll just go and telephone my supplier and see how quickly they can get the fabric to me.' He disappeared behind the curtain that separated the back rooms from the main shop floor.

Just then Jack noticed a dark haired child coming in from the back room. He looked to be about four years old.

'Taddy, I finished colouring,' he said holding a picture in his hand. He looked around and then looked at Jack.

'Where's my Taddy?' he asked.

'He's just gone to make a phone call,' Jack replied. He smiled at the boy. 'What have you been drawing?'

'My dog,' he said proudly as he held the picture up to show Jack. 'He's called Bertie.'

'Wow what a good picture,' Jack said as he looked at it.

'What's your name?' the boy asked.

'I'm Jack. What's yours?'

'Ianto; is Taddy making you a suit?'

Jack shook his head.

'No, I'm rather hoping he can mend my coat for me. It got torn.'

'Did you fall over? Taddy mended my trousers when I fell over and ripped them.'

Before Jack could answer Ifan Jones reappeared in the shop.

'Ianto – what have I told you about coming out here when I've got customers?'

'But I was bored,' Ianto replied.

'I'm so sorry,' Ifan said to Jack. 'My son, he's only four. My wife works on Fridays so I have to bring him. I hope he wasn't annoying you.'

'I wasn't being 'noying,' Ianto said tugging on his father's arm.

'Honestly, it's fine.' Jack replied.

'Well the suppliers should get the fabric to me tomorrow. I should have the coat ready for you on Wednesday.'

'Thank you,' Jack replied as Ifan picked up the coat and hung it on a coat hanger. Ianto watched him intently.

'Are you a soldier?' he asked Jack.

Jack smiled.

'Why do you say that?'

'That's a soldier's coat. My Action Man wears one. Action Man's a soldier.'

'You're a clever kid,' Jack replied. 'I was a soldier once. I used to fly aeroplanes.'

'Wow,' Ianto said; his eyes wide.

Ifan Jones affectionately ruffled his son's hair.

The second time Jack Harkness entered Jones and Sons Tailor shop he was excited to collect his coat. He'd felt strange these last few days without it. He felt incomplete somehow.

As he entered the shop he saw Ifan Jones standing talking to a woman with very nice legs. Jack recognised her immediately – although she wouldn't remember him. It was phone- box lady. Gladys Jones; he saw Ifan's son Ianto holding her hand tightly; of course, Jack felt stupid not to have made the connection sooner, but then there were an awful lot of Jones's in Wales.

'Ah, Mr Harkness,' Ifan greeted him. 'Your coat is all ready for you; I'll just fetch it.'

He disappeared into the back room.

Jack looked at Gladys Jones and smiled faintly. He remembered the last time he'd seen her – how she'd shot a weevil with his gun. Of course she had no memory of that. She noticed him watching her and smiled.

'Mommy,' Ianto whispered tugging at her coat. 'That man's a soldier like Action Man.'

Jack couldn't help but laugh.

'It appears I made quite an impression on your son; we met a few days ago,' he explained.

'Oh, I see,' she smiled. 'Hello, I'm Gladys – Ifan's wife.'

'Captain Jack Harkness,' he said kicking himself the moment the words left his mouth. Gladys seemed to pause for a second looking at him.

'Captain Harkness...' she repeated. 'You look strangely familiar to me – have we met before?'

'Um – no,' Jack lied. 'No, I don't think so.'

'Oh,' she shook her head. 'It must just be me. You look ever so familiar.'

'I've just got one of those faces,' Jack tried to put her off. He couldn't afford for her memories to start to surface. Luckily at that moment Ifan emerged with Jack's coat.

'Here we are – would you like to try it on, Mr Harkness?'

'Uh – yeah sure,' Jack nodded.

'Well we'd best be off,' Gladys said. 'Come on, Ianto – Tad's got work to do.'

'Bye cariad,' Ifan kissed his wife's cheek. 'See you later sport,' he said to Ianto.

'Bye Taddy.'

As Gladys and Ianto left the shop Jack slipped the coat on. Ifan had done a lovely job. It looked as good as new.

'Wow,' Jack said. 'I'm impressed.'

'The stitching is invisible,' Ifan explained. 'Luckily apart from the rips, the garment was intact.'

'I'll try and be more careful in the future,' Jack replied.

It was then that they heard a screech of tyres, a loud bang and a blood curdling scream.

Jack and Ifan raced out of the shop door. The sight that greeted them was horrific. Blood; blood was everywhere. A blue fiesta had smashed into a lamppost across the road. The screaming continued it was a woman's scream.

'Help my baby – please!'

Then Jack saw the body; tiny Ianto Jones was lying in the road.

'Everybody stand back!' Jack yelled as he ran to the boy's side.

Gladys Jones was clinging to the body of her son; his head was covered with blood.

'Please get back,' Jack told her. Ifan pulled his wife back and wrapped his arms around her – he was staring in shock at the body of his son lying in the road.

Jack could hear the sirens in the distance but they were too far away; there wasn't enough time. Ianto wasn't breathing.

Jack checked the pulse; he couldn't find one. As he began chest compressions on the boy's small frame out of the corner of his eye he saw the driver of the car that had hit Ianto stumbling out of the wreck, seemingly unhurt.

'Come on, Ianto.' Jack said through gritted teeth as he pushed down on his chest willing him to survive.

Please he prayed silently. Please God, don't take him. He's just a child. Take me instead of him.

He could hear Gladys Jones crying behind him; calling her son's name.

It was when Jack leaned down to put another breath into Ianto's mouth that it happened; Jack felt it before he saw it; some of his own life force was leaving his body. Ianto seemed to glow golden for a moment; then Jack felt him take a breath.

The paramedics were racing towards them now; Jack stood back to let them take over.

'He's breathing again,' Jack managed to gasp to Ifan and Gladys who were staring at Jack with an expression of shock and awe on their faces.

Jack knew it was impossible; the boy had been dead but then he'd started breathing again on his own. He watched as the paramedics stretched Ianto into the ambulance and Ifan and Gladys both climbed in after him. Then Jack was left alone; standing in the road.

There were police officers interviewing the driver of the fiesta. Jack knew they would want to speak to him as well but he made a habit of avoiding the police – a throwback from his days as a con man – and so Jack just slipped away into the crowd.

The third time Jack entered Jones and Sons Tailor shop it was with a sense of foreboding. He'd wanted to go in to enquire after Ianto for a few weeks but he hadn't been able to work up the courage. He'd tried looking in the local paper – which had reported the accident (the driver had been drunk) but failed to mention what had happened to the victim. Jack wanted to know if Ianto was ok, but he was terrified that he might not be. Jack didn't think he could bear to be told that the little boy he'd fought so hard to save had died.

The bell rang and Ifan Jones emerged from the back room. He stopped dead when he saw Jack.

'Mr Harkness...' he greeted him.

'How's Ianto?' Jack asked.

Ifan paused and for a second Jack's stomach dropped to the floor.

'He's going to be fine.'

Jack let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

'He was in a bad way; he's got a broken leg and he had to stay in hospital for two weeks – but he's going to be fine.'

'Oh thank God.'

'I was hoping you'd come in; I want to thank you, Mr Harkness for saving my son's life.'

Ifan put his hand out to Jack and Jack shook it.

'I just did what anybody would have done.'

'No, that's not true – nobody else on the street rushed to help him. You saved his life. I – I'm forever in your debt.'

'That's really not necessary. I'm just glad I was able to help. I'm so relieved he's going to be ok – he's a tough little guy.'

'He is,' Ifan mused. 'He thinks the whole thing was rather exciting actually; once he got out of hospital. He keeps saying he wants to be a superhero when he grows up so he can save people.'

Jack smiled.

'Maybe he will be.'

'Oh,' Ifan said suddenly, 'I almost forgot.'

He reached down behind the counter and pulled out a piece of paper.

'Ianto drew this picture for you, to say thank you. I told him if you came into the shop that I'd give it to you.'

Jack took the picture, he felt surprisingly touched. He'd never had a picture drawn for him before. As he looked at it he realised that it was a drawing of him, wearing a long "soldier coat" as Ianto had called it. He was standing next to a small boy who appeared to have a cast on his leg – Ianto and another figure who Jack couldn't identify until he looked at what Ianto had written in childlike scrawl on the bottom of the page: Me, Jack and Action Man.

Later in the Hub he would pin the picture up at his desk next to his computer. His colleagues would often wonder about it; but they never asked and Jack never told.