Story disclaimer: I own none of the following. Many of the references in this story are owed to the writers and the rest of the team(s) involved in the creation and production of Torchwood and Doctor Who. Without them, this story would not be possible. My character Teya owns me. I am making no money from this or any of my other fics posted on this site.

Author's Note: If you haven't seen the end of Season Two, go watch it before reading this, I do not want to spoil it for you! (And if you haven't, why the hell not?) Oh and a brief spoiler for Doctor Who Seasons 1 and 4.

Scene Two – Cardiff, Present Day

The setting of the Sun found Jack in his usual spot above a bustling Cardiff. He'd been coming here more and more frequently, trying to cope with the renewed fear that his recent rematch with the Daleks had instilled. The only creatures ever to truly kill him, if it hadn't been for Rose and the TARDIS... That was hard enough, without trying to contain his growing grief over the loss of two great friends and close companions. It had been comforting at first, being with Gwen and Ianto in their joint grief, each using the others as a crutch to keep them going minute by minute, hour by hour. But slowly, as the shrunken Torchwood team was forced to cover the gaping wounds in their midst; Ianto studying the rift programs that Tosh had written and Jack and Gwen's first aid training - so pathetic compared to Owen's medical skills – the three were being drawn apart. Gwen was spending more and more time away from the Hub, as dedicated to her job as ever but less willing to spend time away from Rhys. Ianto was as solicitous as ever, always hovering near Jack but unwilling to break into his partner's stern visage. It had taken more effort than ever for Jack to persuade Ianto that all he really wanted was to be alone, and eventually Jack had simply grabbed his coat and walked out of the Hub, leaving Ianto staring miserably after him.

Though hollowed by grief, Jack knew that he needed to hire another technical expert and a new medic. He refused to look on it as replacing Tosh and Owen. No-one could do that. His automatic reaction, especially after the latest bout with the Daleks, was to persuade Martha Jones to rejoin the team. He'd started the moment they had left the TARDIS, but so far she was, as ever, immune to his charm and wiles. He shook his head ever so slightly, lifting his chin in defiance of the wind that caused his military style coat to billow out behind him and dug his hands into his pockets, preferring to face the chilling wind over Ianto's haunted but needy expression. What Jack needed was something new and exciting, something that dared to try and make the man who couldn't die feel, even for the briefest moment, alive.

The night grew darker and colder as time passed, but Captain Jack Harkness refused to be driven inside. He watched without emotion as the night unfolded before him, watched as the people changed from commuters rushing home to be with their families to young people heading out for a typical Friday night's gallivanting. And as they gradually got more inebriated, the good-natured laughter became good old fashioned slanging matches that had yet to develop into punch-ups. It was better than TV; he had to admit whilst observing it all. Did any of them know he was watching over them, that the Torchwood team fought day after day for their survival against the thousands of races that might drift through the rift, which might invade their lives at any moment? Did they know what had been sacrificed for them, just how high the cost of a safe Earth had been? He knew the answer well enough.

A warning message in his ear piece broke his train of thoughts, causing him to turn away from the entertainment that was Cardiff's night-life and head back inside. The Pterodactyl screeched a greeting from far above as he entered the Hub via its robust, circular door. He looked about for Ianto, but it seemed that the Welshman had finally taken the hint and gone home. Jack allowed himself a self-critical grimace; he knew there would be hell to pay in the morning... Intrigued as to what might have set of the tracking alarm, he jogged to Tosh's station – he still thought of it as hers - and hit a few buttons, flinging himself back into her chair and letting his chin fall into his right hand, rubbing his chin a little as he let the computer bring up the data that had disturbed him.

The computer registered the strange signal as that of an escaped Torchwood prisoner. Jack frowned at that. No creature had escaped from Torchwood Cardiff in the century that Jack had been working there, at least not for long... He set the computer to matching known escaped prisoners from all Torchwood sites to the frequency of the one approaching Cardiff. It took several minutes, enough for Jack to make himself a coffee. He took a sip as he headed back to the computer, grimacing slightly. It wasn't a bad cup; it's just that Ianto's was so much better. The computer once again took his mind of Ianto, as it flashed up that it had confirmed a match. As far as the computer was concerned, there was no doubt as to the origin of the signal. Jack pressed a button on the keyboard to bring up the file, and almost wished he hadn't...

His jaw dropped as he recognized the file in front of him... He didn't need the name, planet of origin, and species. All it took was the prisoner number, 5167, but the face was so familiar. He reached out to touch the screen, the LCD screen reacting to his touch by distorting the image slightly. He'd given her up for dead after the Battle of Canary Wharf... four years ago... How could she still be alive? What had brought her back to Cardiff? A thousand questions pummeled him. What was she doing there? Was she looking for him? The last made him laugh aloud, the sound booming as it echoed about the empty Hub. Her last words to him had been adamant, something along the lines of "If I never see you again it will be too soon" but with enough expletives to turn the air between them blue. He watched as the signal paused, then crept onward again, paused, then moved on once more, creeping steadily ever closer to the centre of Cardiff. She was hunting… but hunting what? Jack raised his head enough to rest his chin on his knuckles, content to wait for now to see what came of it.

"Good to see you again kiddo."