6

Ianto got over the urge to crawl into a corner and die, and decided to go down to the diner and get something in to his stomach. He didn't take the cell phone with him figuring there was no point with it being flat and any calls about his well-being would quickly deteriorate any chance of restarting the day on a positive note.

Torchwood wasn't much of a town in the off-season, and the end of September was definitely approaching that time. The seasonal residents came in mostly on weekends now, probably because they owned a place and felt obligated to use it, but also because it was so peaceful, a distinct difference from the height of summer when the bars rocked every night of the week with partiers.

Ianto pulled into the parking lot behind the diner, surprised that he had trouble finding a parking space. He actually had to wait in line outside for a few minutes, which gave him an opportunity to get some oxygen into his system.

It was as foggy there outside the diner as it was inside his head, and the air was damp and cool going into his lungs. It felt like he was inhaling a piece of the world itself. The owner came out with some menus and spotted him at the end of the line.

The owner was his first cousin on his father's side, Idris Jones. Strangely no one had twigged to the last names being the same, given the fact Idris was black but… well… racist much? "You by yourself, Ianto? I got a spot at the counter, if you want it."

"Thanks Idris, that would be fine." Ianto smiled and nodded at a couple of people whose face he recognized, but whose name he didn't remember—he was usually brilliant with names but the hazy fog in his brain still matched that outside the window.

Idris laid down a menu and a coffee at the same time. "You look like you could use this."

"Thanks a lot," Ianto said smartly, and then he shovelled some sugar into the cup. The coffee looked like motor oil, and it was perfect.

If this didn't get me going…. Ianto caught his reflection in the stainless-steel panel behind the plate racks.

Normally, his soft wavy brown hair stays where it's supposed to. This morning, it looked kind of spiked out, and his face looked like it was covered with pepper, seeing as he hadn't shaved in a while. Ianto looked like a terrorist, and he hoped it was just the reflection.

Ianto stopped worrying about his appearance, and started worrying about how he was going to explain the absence to the clinic.

Ianto ordered some pancakes and got a refill, when he finally woke up enough to start to tune in to his surroundings. Why was the place so busy? Torchwood wasn't but about five hundred people in the off-season, and it looked like every single one of them was inside the diner.

"Idris," he said, waving him over. "What's up with all the people?"

Idris gave him a strange look, but it was clear that it wasn't about his hair.

"Friday," he said. "I'm surprised you're not freaked out about it."

It didn't register.

"Idris, Friday? You too?" Idris just turned and went to the cash register. He was back a second later with a legal pad and a pencil.

"Over there," he said, nodding toward the dining room area of the diner. "You're going to need to take some notes."

Ianto looked over to where Idris had indicated, noticing that a crowd had gathered around one of the tables. The TV screen was showing a press conference of some sort and Ianto felt a spike of annoyance as he could see the town crest of the next town over behind those talking. Something about cordons still in place? A lockdown? What? A Blackout?

"You better get over there before you get shut out," Idris said.

Ianto gave up trying to see, being told by several people that their phones were not working either and the place was generally in disarray. After thinking things through, Ianto decided the best thing to do would be to get over there, like Idris said.

And so… Ianto took the quickest route he usually took on a nice day, the stock trail his mountain bike was perfect for. The mist seemed to dissipate as he crested the hill and headed down into the neighbouring town, slipping into the town hall where he knew things were happening.

A couple of people had cameras, and one of them looked like a professional photographer.

As Ianto sat there, a news van actually pulled up outside the diner with Fox News 29 painted on the side.

Ianto slurped down some coffee from the table covered in paper cups and jugs of hot black coffee, and squeezed his way over to the still-gathering crowd, flashing the spare badge Jack kept in Ianto's wallet in case he lost his own. Once there, he wedged into the wall of bodies that took up an entire corner of the dining room, elbowing his way to the front.

He's good at that. Hiding in plain sight.

When Ianto finally got to where he could concentrate on something besides avoiding all the bad breath in the air, he was surprised to see Chief of Police Jack fucking Harkness sitting there, handling questions as if he were conducting a presidential press conference.

Ianto knew Jack would rather have gotten a tooth pulled than sit in front of a group of reporters. It looked like he didn't have much choice, however. Spotting Ianto, he said, "Hey Tiger. Where have you been?"

A camera clicked somewhere behind his left ear as Ianto said, "I don't know, Jack. Where have you been?"