Caz here. Review for Joel? He's cool! He's a vampire! Vampires Suck! Oh, wait… I'm not really making a good case for myself here, am I?

Jack chewed his gingerbread cookie in thought. This was good. It was Christmas Eve, he and Ianto were going to see Ianto's family for Christmas, Tosh and Owen would spend Christmas together, Gwen was already home with Rhyse; nobody would be alone. Jack wouldn't be alone, for the first time in years. Christmas was the one day aliens would invade, but Torchwood needn't worry, because Christmas was the day they only came for the Doctor. Jack might ACTUALLY have a decent holiday season. That was good.

Ianto froze mid-step on the threshold to Jack's office, halfway in, halfway out as the hub sirens began to wail. "We've got a trace of minor rift activity just outside the tourist's office!" Tosh shouted.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Great. Another 'Christmas Weevil?'"

"No, just this bloke. He claims to know you, Jack." Owen raced in through the tourist's office entrance, towing behind him a dark-haired man in a dark suit that highly contrasted his pale skin.

The man looked around nervously, seemingly frightened by the presence of so many humans. "I-I don't mean you any harm! I didn't expect sirens; I just wanted to-to wish Jack a happy Christmas."

Jack leaned over the railing. "Well, he's being honest when he says he won't hurt us; that's against his very biology."

Tosh lowered her gun, but Owen held fast to the man, who didn't try to escape him. "You KNOW him?"

"Yeah, he's an alien who was held in Victorian-Era Torchwood for a few years. We keep in touch."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "What, another evil ex? What is this, Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World?"

"He's not my ex; just an old friend. Well, not really a friend. Not evil either. Just- an acquaintance. It's a long story."

Owen scowled while releasing him. "Well, you've got a while to tell us. We're in lockdown now, and won't get out of here for another six hours. Way to ruin Christmas, mate."

"Hey, I-"

Ianto reached the bottom level. "If we're going to be here overnight, at least we've got eggnog."

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The six, now slightly drunk, sat in a circle on the Hub floor, each holding a mug of spiked eggnog.

"So, Joel, what were you doing for Christmas?" Tosh tried to make conversation.

"My species doesn't celebrate Christmas." The vampire shrugged, then stared back into the eggnog he had taken to be polite.

"Right, what exactly is your species again?" Owen's left eyebrow raised in suspicion.

Joel shrugged uncomfortably. "Well, I… I guess you could call me a vampire. I can only feed off a certain plant on my homeworld, which has been destroyed, or on human blood."

Tosh shifted away uncomfortably. "I thought you said your species couldn't kill?"

The vampire subconsciously wrapped his arms around his torso in nervous hesitation. "Well it-it's not really killing if he j-just comes back to life afterwards, right?"

Owen's face dropped. "Yeah, sorry, mate, did you just say what I think you just-"

"Owen." Jack interrupted, "This isn't your concern."

"Oh, piss off, Jack." Owen turned to face Joel, who was looking extremely happy to see the power come back online.

"Hey! I'll just be- uh, going…" Joel turned around to be nose-to-nose with Ianto, who was standing directly behind him. "Hi! Uh, Ianto- wasn't it?"

"That's right." Ianto's left eyebrow raised slightly. "Now what was that you were saying?"

Joel started to back up again, only to turn and face Tosh, who was now standing opposite Ianto. "You said it 'wasn't really killing if he just comes back to life afterwards.'"

"Now," Owen stepped forwards, so the three had the young vampire surrounded, "I only know of one man who can 'come back to life afterwards.'"

Jack stepped between the three, holding up his arms. "This isn't what it looks like. Now, if you'd just give me a minute to explain-"

"To explain what, Jack!" Ianto turned his attention to the immortal. "That you've been sneaking off to let this bloke MURDER you all the time?" Ianto drew his gun on Joel, who was shuffling slowly to the corner. "And YOU! How many times, eh? How MANY times have you killed him, because you're too damned NERVOUS to feed off anyone else? How about corpses, ever think of that! Or blood banks! But NO, you just have to kill JACK once a month!"

And this is where my brain died. Sorry 'bout that. Finish that conversation off in your heads, kay?