After I sent Gareth down to the shooting range, I walk over to the computers. Jack told me to familiarise myself with all this Torchwood stuff. Since I've got nothing better to do here, and I certainly have no intention of becoming the new Torchwood housemaid, I sit myself in front of one of the computers.

I've never been a technological genius, and my only strategy of fixing a computer is turning it off and on again, but I've always liked to think that I can find my way through the maze of all the different programs and files, albeit with some random clicking and lucky guesses.

Right. Where to start? There are multiple icons scattered all over the desktop. I've always been someone who simply can't be bothered with reading the manual first, so I don't really feel like finding a how-to-deal-with-strange-computers-manual. I mean, if the product is made properly, it shouldn't be difficult to use it, right? However, the technology I use is not made for some kind of alien-hunting, secret organisation, so it might be smart start with the simple things and delve into the history of Torchwood first. Besides, judging from the laughter coming from the shooting range, I've got plenty of time to go through everything.

I double click the icon that says 'Introduction to Torchwood'. It surprises me that the icons have such simple names. And why on earth would there even be an icon named 'Introduction to Torchwood' on the desktop? It's not like Jack uses that program every day, I hope. Unless, of course, it's because he kidnaps people on a regular basis and gets rid of them when he's tired of them. No, surely he doesn't do that. Right?

A voice shakes me out of my thoughts.

"Hello. If you're watching this, I'm probably dead."

A video automatically started when I opened the program. A serious-looking man is staring straight into the camera. Looking at the background, I notice this video is probably recorded here in the Hub, but it was clearly before that bomb, because it looks nothing like the bare space it is now.

The voice continues.

"No, I'm only kidding. Most likely, I'm not there right now. And you are new, I assume, otherwise Jack wouldn't have showed you this video. I'm sorry if I'm rambling, it's just that I've got nothing to do right now. The rest of the team are out Weevil hunting, and I've just taken Jack's coat to the drycleaner's, so I decided to record this video. That way, I don't have to give this introduction every time Jack brings in a new member. I remember when I found out that Gwen hadn't been listening to anything I said. I wasted almost an hour of my time talking to deaf ears, while there was an SUV with bloodstains waiting for me to clean, just because Jack couldn't be bothered with waiting until his wound stopped bleeding before he got into the car. And don't get me started about the chaos down in the archives last month. Jack and Gwen were looking for something while I was getting us lunch. When I got back, I checked the CCTV, simply out of habit, only to find them in the middle of the biggest mess you can image. If only they had waited for me to come back. It took me almost a week to organise everything properly again."

The man looks at something I can't see and closes his eyes for a second. He takes a sip of his coffee, adjusts his tie and continues again.

"Especially since Tosh and Owen... Especially since it's now only the three of us here, I think this is a more practical way of giving you this information. So, let's get started. I've included a file with Torchwood's history, starting in 1879, up until now. Or last week actually. I asked Jack to update the file but, as always, he's behind on his paperwork, so I will probably end up doing it."

He is interrupted by a terrible sounding screech.

"Sorry, Myfanwy wants some attention."

He walks away, probably dealing with that thing with the weird name. I can hear the man saying some soothing words to the thing, but I can't understand what he says.

After about a minute, he returns.

"Sorry about that. You know, I really do hope I'm not dead. I don't know how everyone could cope without me. Imagine the reaction of the drycleaner when Jack keeps showing up with his coat once every three days, if not more often. He probably has no idea that I go to several drycleaners."

He chuckles to himself.

"I'm sorry, now I'm wasting your time. I'll hurry up. Apart from the file about the history, I have also written something about the way the archives are organised. It's not difficult, as long as you know how it works. Finally, I've uploaded Tosh's notes about the Rift. That's about it, I think. If you need anything else, just give me a shout and I will explain-"

The man suddenly turns around. There is someone moving in the background.

"Ianto! I've dropped Gwen off at her place. We've got the place to ourselves for the rest of the night. My office, right now! Time for Naked Hide and Seek. And bring your stopwatch!"

Jack appears on the screen, the buttons of shirt already undone. As soon as he reaches Ianto, he starts kissing his neck and his hands move down to the buttons of the Welshman's waistcoat. "By the way, who are you talking to? Is he cute? And in for a threesome?"

"It's nothing."

Without looking at the camera, and slightly blushing, Ianto stops the recording.

The video closes itself and the screen shows the several files the man was talking about.

I stare at the screen for a minute. So that was Ianto, the man Jack still mourns about.

I start the video again, this time not paying attention to what he says, but to the man himself. He looks quite young, probably somewhere in his late twenties. His eyes are as blue as Jack's, although there is a liveliness in them that has disappeared in Jack's eyes.

When Jack appears on the screen again, I can clearly see the difference between this Jack and the man I know. If you compare the two, the Jack I know is nothing but an empty shell at times.

The video stops for the second time and this time it gives me no time to think about the things I just saw. Instead of returning to the list of files, it sends me straight to the Rift monitor. The screen doesn't look the same as the other day when the alarm went off, but there are a couple of flashing lights and in the top right corner, it says 'code yellow'.

To my knowledge, 'code yellow' is not life-threatening, so I decide to check it out myself. From the safety of this chair, that is.

When I click on an icon that I assume will lead me to an explanation of this flashing of lights, I get send to CCTV footage. It takes a couple of seconds for me to realise what I'm looking at, but then it strikes me: it is exactly the same thing as I saw earlier.

I stare at the footage a little longer, hoping that it is just coincidence, or a trick of the light.

After a minute of looking for things to contradict what I just saw, I have to accept that this CCTV footage shows me what I saw this morning when I walked from the Hub to the hostel. People falling to their knees and getting up again, out of the blue. This time, though, it is on a different location.

The moment I realise I should really tell Jack about this now, he and Gareth return from the shooting range. Sometimes I just love coincidence.

"Jack, look at this footage. I saw it earlier this morning as well, when I walked back to the Hub."

Jack is leaning over my shoulder and shoves me and my chair out of the way. He looks at it with a frown plastered on his face. Has he seen this before?

"Do you know what it is?" I ask him.

He looks at me again, frown replaced by a smile, which is, just like before, not entirely convincing, however hard he tries.

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. Why don't you and your brother have a walk around the Bay? Get some fresh air and enjoy the view. Buy some souvenirs for your parents or send some postcards. It would be strange is you returned without any pictures or presents, wouldn't it? Just let me deal with this. Like it says at the top of the screen; it is a code yellow, nothing to worry about."

"You know, you do have your intelligent moments. Holiday stories rarely consist of chasing Weevils and getting fire-arm training from an immortal man."

I turn around, to see Gareth already in his jacket and holding mine as well. Without a further word, we walk towards the door, on our way to the windy Bay.

"By the way," Jack calls after us, "I've got a lot of paperwork to do, so why don't the two of you take a couple of days of. I'm sure you can use the rest, since it must have been quite an experience so far."

Oh, it certainly has, and something tells me it isn't over yet.