Charlie hesitated on the doorstep, but Mr Jones gave him another of those looks he was already learning to dread and he unlocked the door quickly. The house was in darkness, but he always knew when Quill was around. It was like something crawling up his spine and settling in his chest. "We're home," he called out, reaching for the lights. "And… not alone."

"Charles, you're getting worryingly sociable." She rounded the corner and eyed their newcomer. "Oh. You can bring me gifts like this more often. Come on in, then."

"Miss Quill," Mr Jones said. "Your reputation precedes you." He stepped past Charlie and offered her his hand. "Ianto Jones, Torchwood. And your maternity cover."

She looked him up and down again and shook his hand. "I thought Torchwood was an urban legend. Or at least shut down years ago."

"Yes, well, I'm very good at my job." He glanced at Ram. "And pretty good at keeping secrets, unlike some."

"And yet here you are. Coffee?" Quill ignored the rest of them, which was the way Charlie liked it, and led Mr Jones into the kitchen. "Where did you find them, anyway? Back at the school, I imagine."

He chuckled and took a seat at the table with her. "Yes. Looking for a Hoix. Big, dumb, hungry. I don't think it would have hurt them, but I'm not sure what they planned to do with it either."

"Oh, probably shout at it and hope it went away." Quill gestured at Charlie. "Coffee, Charles. Let's not leave Mr Jones here thinking we're bad hosts. I'll have some of the whiskey in mine."

"You're pregnant," he reminded her. "You're not even supposed to drink coffee." Matteusz squeezed his hand and he nodded. "We've got those syrups, though. Mr Jones?"

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Thank you, but I actually like coffee."

"Black like your soul," Quill observed. "I like it. So, Mr Jones, what is Torchwood these days?"

"Torchwood is a… small scale organisation, shall we say? Nothing like UNIT. Nothing like it used to be, either. We find the vulnerable places, and we defend them." He ran a hand through his hair. "Coal Hill School - academy, sorry - sits on a rift in time and space, where the walls of the universe are weakest…"

"Yes, we know. Get on with it."

Mr Jones chuckled. "Ah, the Doctor? Yes, I'm going to have words with him, don't worry. Regeneration. We'd just got him housetrained and he went and changed on us. Which one did you get?"

Charlie brought the coffees over. "What do you mean, which one?"

"Which face?"

"Oh… grey hair. I don't know, humans all looked the same at the time."

Mr Jones nodded. "Yes, that explains things. He's a bit of a loose canon. I'll have a word."

"You said you were going to kill him," Charlie reminded him.

"I say that a lot, believe me. He has a habit of leaving people in the lurch on planets they know nothing about." He gestured around the room. "You seem to be doing alright."

Quill shrugged one shoulder. "He gave us enough money to get by for a very long time. Sorted the house, my job, Charlie's school place. And then left us to defend this… rift. Oh yes, we know it well. He left children to protect the world, and then he'll probably wonder why people died." She glowered over her mug. "Now Ram's got an alien leg and no dad, Tanya has no mum, April here is a Shadowkin…"

"April?"

"Hi." She stepped out of the shadows and loomed over him, and for the first time Mr Jones looked alarmed. "It's a long, long story."

He pushed his mug towards Charlie. "I've changed my mind about that whiskey."

"You were telling us about Torchwood," Matteusz said. "About this rift. We call it a bunghole."

That earned him a bark of laughter, and Mr Jones ran his hand through his hair again. "Do you now? I'm not sure I could put that in the reports. But yes, we find places where alien threats are most likely and we move in. Contain the risk and then deal with it, one day at a time, for as long as it takes. And that's what we'll do here."

"I like the sound of this," Quill murmured. "Is this the bit where we can get out of this dump?"

"I'm not going anywhere." Charlie glanced over at Matteusz. "Not without you."

"Oh, yeah, you might not want to broadcast that quite as likely as you do when faced with an alien threat," Mr Jones commented. "If the Hoix had had a couple of braincells, it would have found it very easy to manipulate you."

"Yes. We have been there too." Matteusz squeezed Charlie's hand and looked up at Mr Jones. "You said you're married, though."

He nodded. "Jack would never forgive himself, but he'd never put me before the world. I hope you never have to make that choice."

"You're a bit late for that," Charlie looked down. "I'd like not to have to do it again, though."

"I'll do my best. And, you, April." Mr Jones turned to look at her again. "What are we going to do with you? Let me make a phone call or two. And shout at the Doctor again."