More reviews! Thank you all you kind people. Here's another chapter. (I should explain that all the chapters will be shortish as it was the only way I could chop up the story successfully.) Hope you enjoy this instalment.

I drove, of course, and it was a strange feeling. Jack always drove, it was a law of Torchwood if not of nature. Now he could barely see over the dashboard and out of the front windscreen. That made me think. The new regulations said children under a certain age and height had to be in car seats in the back of vehicles. I looked at Jack; he was now small and young enough to be caught by those very regulations. I debated but decided now was not the time to broach the subject, I didn't want a tantrum.

We arrived at the superstore which was busy with people on their way to work and early morning shoppers; it was gone 7am. I dropped Jack at the entrance so his feet would not get wet and he would not get cold and went to park. It took a few minutes to find a space big enough for the SUV and to walk back. When I did there was no sign of him. I panicked, just as I had when I'd been looking after my nephew and he'd run off – hiding although I didn't know we were playing a game at the time! I took some deep breaths and looked round, telling myself this was Jack – a boy's body but a man's brain – he'd be more than a match for any paedophile. I looked around and caught sight of the clothes section and hared over there. Sure enough, Jack was sitting on the floor of the shoe aisle trying on a pair of trainers. The remnants of the black sacks were strewn about him.

"Don't ever run off like that again!" I chastised him. "Who knows what could have happened to you!" I was angry with him for the fright he'd given me. He looked up with such innocence I wanted to box his ears and very nearly did but remembered, just in time, that this 10 year old was my immortal boss and lover. I calmed down – a bit. "You scared me," I explained.

He smiled, that lovely lazy smile. "I'm sorry." He reached up a hand and took mine, giving it a familiar squeeze. "What do you think of these?" he asked, thrusting his feet out in front of him.

"No"

"What do you mean, no?" He could not have looked more outraged if he'd tried.

"You are not having wheelies. Get an ordinary pair." I looked around and took a pair from the rack. "Try these."

"I want these," said Jack stubbornly, crossing him arms as he sat on the floor. His chin jutting out obstinately.

"They're impractical for the Hub. You'll end up in the water." I knelt down beside him, "Come on, try these." He huffed and puffed a bit more but didn't stop me undoing the ones he had chosen and putting on the new pair. I felt the new trainers, making sure they weren't pinching his toes, then made him walk up and down to see if they stayed on his feet. Only then did I say, "These'll do fine."

He laughed, flung his arms around my neck – we were now almost the same height – and kissed me soundly. If felt most odd. I wanted to respond as this was Jack – same touch, same pheromones – but he was 10 years old! I firmly held him away from me. "Stop it," I hissed, aware of an assistant filling shelves nearby.

"No kissing either?" he moaned.

"No." I stood up. "Let's get two pairs."

"We don't need them. I'll be right size again soon."

"Better to be safe than sorry," I said, looking around. Now I knew who I was buying for I was keen to get him more clothes. "Go and get a trolley, we'll need a few more things." I admit I did say this a bit absent-mindedly; I was trying to decide between two different shades of blue shirt at the time otherwise I'd have been a bit more diplomatic.

"Get it yourself." He stood defiantly, feet planted. That stubborn look was back.

I looked down at him and, out of the corner of my eye, saw a woman in her late 30s give me such a look. She obviously thought I had brought up a most rude and disagreeable child. "Please, cariad?" I asked, putting as much love into the words as I could. He rarely refused me when I used the Welsh endearment and he didn't now. He rolled his eyes but went back to the entrance and got the trolley. I filled the trolley with the shirts – I decided on dark blue, of course – a sweater, more jeans, underwear and socks. The second pair of trainers went in too.

Jack rolled his eyes in disbelief. "What are you doing?" he asked. "I don't need all that!"

"You never know," I said with a doom-laden voice. And we didn't. It could be days or even weeks before Jack was back to normal. "What about pyjamas?"

"No," he cried, "I never wear them as you well know. Now let's pay for this lot and get out of here. You're not safe to be let loose in a shop like this."

"Just a minute," I replied, putting in the pyjamas anyway and for good measure adding a dressing gown. I made him try on a hooded waterproof jacket that was both warm and light. It was air force blue and looked good on him as I could see he knew. He put that in the trolley himself. "That's the lot, for now."

"For now?" he threw up his hands in horror and stomped off in his new footwear, which still had the tags on, I noticed. Have to take those off once we'd paid for them.

I was left to push the trolley. I added a scarf and some gloves on the way to the check-out. I paid for it all and made Jack put on the jacket and gloves before we left the store. He looked really cute. Back at the SUV, I packed our purchases in the boot and got in the driving seat. Another hour had come and gone.

Next time .... little Jack meets Owen!! Please review.