Found this among in one of my many unused folders when organising my laptop - I thought I'd lost it but I figured I might as well post it. Thank you if you actually read this- it's been a looooong while. Hope you like it anyway!

Oh- before I forget- I own nothing. Everything belongs to the genius that is RTD except the storyline. :D

"Can you please tell me what we are looking for?" Rhiannon asked him for what was the fifth time. He glanced at her across the table where she was leaning back in her chair with a thoughtful look on her that just promised that she would find out and once again he corrected her.

"You mean who I am looking for." He smiled softly as she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"Are you going to tell me or what?" In one move she pulled her legs down and leant forward, looking into his eyes earnestly.

He sighed at the anticipation in her eyes, and swung his legs round his chair to face her, closing the phonebook while he did so. Yes, he was desperate enough to try the phonebook. His findings however were…..zilch. Zit. Nada. Well, that is if you didn't count some guy from 1940 Cardiff. He sincerely doubted that the man he was looking for was him. Linked? Definitely; it was more likely than not the source of the alias, but almost certainly not him. "Look," he told her, "it's really nothing-"

Rhiannon cut him off, a look of irritation on her face. "If you say it's nothing to do with me, I swear-"

He rose his hands in surrender, conceding. If only the men at Torchwood One could see him now; Cybermen, sure he could fight them in his sleep and Daleks, bring it on, but with his sister he was all too eager to bring out the white flag of cowardice- or as he liked to call it calculated surrender. "Fine. I'm looking for someone."

"I'd guessed." She quipped, but fell silent under his deadpanned expression.

"He is, or at least presumably was last time I saw him, a Captain- not that he was likely to ever have actually been given the title but it was customary to choose one when-" He cut himself off shaking his head, he did not want to think about the agency. His sister looked calculatingly at him but didn't push, instead accepting his silence before asking a different question.

"So what's the name of your mystery man?" She teased.

His silence was enough. "You don't even know!" She laughed. "This is priceless! Mr I-know-everything doesn't even know the name of the person he's so fixated on finding!"

He rolled his eyes. She wasn't completely wrong there. "The name he's currently going by is Captain Jack Harkness. "

She grinned triumphantly- goading him always did seem to be the best way to get answers. "Who is he then?"

At this he frowned. "I don't entirely know-" She gave him a look, "Seriously I don't! There were few people who chose the title of Captain and it's common to keep the same initials, or first name or something! This guy Jack Harkness though, I don't know. There were no Jacks, Harkness' or JH's that I remember in the agency." He knew he was treading into dangerous territories here, for all he knew he could run into a former enemy or even risk interrupting a timeline of some sort, but part of him was hopeful. Hopeful that he could find a former friend, or it could be…

He shook his head again. Best not to hope too much. Then he'd be bound to be disappointed.

Rhiannon seemed to believe him. "Fine. " She fell silent again, watching him closely with an all too amused expression on her face.

He turned back to the phone book rubbing his eyes wearily, resigning himself to another futile attempt.

0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.

"Aha!"

Rhiannon jumped- her head that had been resting on the desk flying up, eyes previously shut now alert as she flailed in her seat as he sniggered at her. "Who died?!"

He rolled his eyes. "I found him! Or rather I found 5 hims."

"How d'you know which one's the right one?"

"I don't!" He grinned at her.

She glared, unamused and he relented.

"Look-" He pointed at the list of names he'd recorded. "I'll try all of them and see what turns up. These three are in London, so I'll go there first. The guy I spoke to-" Owen Harper , he recalled, "was Cockney so I'll try there first. Then I'll try this one in Manchester. That one's in Wales so I'll be back before you know it. "

"But what if it is the one you're looking for?" She was staring at the ground, her eyebrows furrowed, refusing to catch his eyes as he scrutinised her expression.

"I don't know the answer to that, you know I don't." He replied quietly. " I have no idea who I'm going to see or even if any of this will lead me anywhere. I just don't." He leant forward, putting his hand on her arm, not saying anything until she made eye contact with him. Her eyes were slightly red and she scowled at him. "I'll only be a phone call away."

She pushed away angrily, gathering a few books from the collection piled next to him and crossly slamming them closed and pushing them aggressing onto their shelves, using more force than he would have thought necessary.

"That's what you said before and yet you couldn't find one moment to phone to say 'Oh wait- I may not actually be dead'!" She slammed another book for good measure, as if he hadn't noticed she was upset before glaring at him.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and she softened. "Why not just phone? You've got the numbers haven't you?" She suggested.

"I can't- " He needed her to understand. "Imagine losing everything you had- your family, your friends, your job. " He stopped. "Micah, David, Johnny."

"I just want to know what happened to everyone- and if this stranger can tell me anything, then I have to speak to him. That doesn't mean I love you any less, or the kids." He reassured her. "I just need to know."

Lips still pursed and arms crossed she relented reluctantly. Not that she would have stopped him, he tried to tell himself. He would have gone anyway, he lied to himself, it wasn't like he was scared of her, or crying women at all.

"Let me come with you then."

"Where's the fun in that?" He crowed. "Anyway, I need something to distract me. It'll be like a road trip!"

She would, after all be a liability, a risk he could not afford in front of a potential threat. He knew what time agents were like after all, having been one himself for a time. They were merciless and he would be offering them blackmail on a plate if he met the wrong one.

"You are way too excited." She deadpanned.

"And I forgot how grumpy you are after you wake up. Ow!" He rubbed his arm where she'd hit him, smirking. "I'll tell Johnny." He warned her and she snorted.

"As if he'd do anything."

Ianto pouted. "He would if I asked."

"You wish."

0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.

And that's how he found himself standing in the middle of Roald Dahl Plass, completely and utterly confused.

People bustled around him, on or two muttering under their breath complaining that he was in the middle of the path but her ignored them.

Why did he do this? He asked himself. He really really wasn't ready for what he might find or even worse the possibility of finding nothing.

The rest of the names had found nothing, this was his last chance. He still wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, he took in a deep breath, he would see.

Preparing himself, he head towards the tourist information centre, a dirty, horrible looking design he thought to himself, why a time agent would work there was beyond him. It was probably another empty trail.

And with that not-quite reassuring thought he walked into the derelict, empty building.

Thanks for reading!

~RWL
Xxx.