The train ride into the city had been long, very hot and incredibly boring, and he found himself becoming claustrophobic.
He was just grateful that the voice in his head had died away, probably due to the medication he'd taken that morning.
He looked round the newly refurbished St Pancras station, but was not in the slightest bit impressed by it. Just because an ape can hold a paintbrush, doesn't mean it can produce a masterpiece.
With a sniff of disinterest he walked towards the exit for the underground, and as he did a wicked thought crossed his mind.
Ianto had only just turned on the TV when the newsflash caught his attention.
"As yet, the fire service cannot determine where the fire started, and as we speak the rescue is ongoing. It is not known if there are any fatalities, but there reported to be many injured. We will bring you more news when we receive it."
Ianto watched the screen with mild interest, watching the busy but efficient emergency services behind the on-scene reporter.
He was about to turn it off when something caught his attention. He felt a chill go through him and then he felt incredibly hot.
Behind the barriers looking intently at the organised panic was...it couldn't be. He blinked and looked again, but whatever he'd seen was gone.
He shook his head; he must have imagined it...why would he be there?
Shrugging his shoulders he picked up the paperwork he'd been about to file and disappeared down into filing.
In Storage level Four the inside of a blue wooden box brightened and a figure stirred.
Jack felt like his head had been put through a particularly bad-tempered wringer, and every muscle protested when he tried to lift himself off the floor.
The scream had filled his whole consciousness.
He sat up, shaking his head, trying to make sense of it. He could only think of one word to describe it...chaos.
It was then that he noticed that the TARDIS interior was once more the colours it should be...what did that mean?
He wouldn't let himself think that one thing...perhaps the TARDIS had cured what was wrong with her.
Resting against the railings he allowed himself a few deep breaths...he'd come here for something, what was it?
He shrugged...couldn't have been important and giving the TARDIS console a pat he wandered down the ramp and out of door.
The TARDIS let out the equivalent of a sigh; at least she'd managed to stop him using her.
He couldn't let him know what had really happened...let him think they were refugees from some war.
Let Jack Harkness think that his Time Lord was lost, it was better than letting him suffer the agony of the truth.
She shuddered once more when she remembered what she'd felt when she'd finally managed to touch the mind of her Time Lord.
It had frightened her...there was nothing but darkness and chaos.
After the little distraction of setting fire to that ugly train station, he found his mood had lightened.
He was now walking up Oxford Street, his step much lighter now. He stopped at a coffee shop, ordered a cappuccino and sat outside and watched the people scurrying by.
Rats, he thought, they were like rats... and he hated rats.
Enjoy your sewers while you can he thought...before chaos...no Chaos descends.
He glanced over at the other side of the street and his eyes widened in shock...no, it couldn't be...not here!
He felt a wave of panic wash over him and he felt his heart flutter in that odd double heartbeat caused by a defect he'd had from birth.
He stood up and for a moment he lost sight of the cause of his panic...no wait, there.
He felt something other than panic...he felt anger.
With eyes now locked like lasers, he followed his intended target, keeping pace on his side of the road.
He saw his target turn off and down a smaller road.
He could hear his rescuer's voice in his head. "Let me deal with them, it will be too much for you."
Ignoring the voice, he hurried across the road and began following his target. It wasn't the one he really wanted, but it would be a start.
She hadn't expected to be in London, but the job with UNIT had been completed early, so instead of hanging round a very boring military base she'd decided to come home early and get in some much needed retail therapy.
She turned off Oxford Street and headed for the small private car park that she used when she had time to shop.
She'd only walked a few yards when she got that feeling...the one you had when you thought someone was following you. She stopped and looked round, but there were only shoppers and shop workers.
Sighing, she shook her head; this job was making her paranoid.
She continued walking and turned into the car park.
She stopped again, that feeling rising again. She looked round, but this time there was turned back and jumped when she heard something behind, probably a rat she thought.
However, that feeling wouldn't go felt in her pocket for her car keys and began looking for her car. She spotted it and she increased her pace, anxious to get inside its relative felt relieved when she reached her car and placed her bags on the roof and reached for her keys.
She only had time for a muffled squeak as a hand covered her mouth.
She was about to put her UNIT training to good use when a voice that almost stopped her heart breathed into her ear.
"What a pleasant surprise to see you again Martha Jones."