Taken from Fragments, this is Jack's view of meeting Ianto. But be warned, it does not turn out quite as it does in the series …

Strange Encounter

The report came in when I was about to turn in for the night. In some of my more bizarre flights of fancy I was convinced the Weevils had a link to the Hub's internal CCTV cameras and waited until I was asleep or in the shower before leaving the sewers to wreak mayhem on the city. I can see it now, a little group of them sitting round with beer and popcorn waiting for me to strip my clothes off. Great taste, guys! I wonder what they would make of Owen's antics when he tried to get out of work or came in with a hangover looking like death warmed up; he was at his most Weevilish then. I bet he'd be a star in their little world - though not as big as me.

With a sigh and a little smile, I rather like my idea of Weevil TV, I checked the screen hoping for a simple one. The rest of the team had been working hard and I didn't want to cut into their downtime if I could help it. Especially as it was Tuesday. Suzie goes somewhere every Tuesday, unusual for her, and I wouldn't want to spoil whatever private life she'd managed to retain. Luck was with me, it was a lone Weevil in Cathays Park. I could handle that on my own, no sweat. A quick entry into the log to show I'd responded and then a circuit to collect the Weevil kit, Webley, mobile and don my greatcoat, couldn't leave without that.

Walking to the SUV, I remembered Charlie, way back, talking about my greatcoat. He had this elaborate theory, he was full of them, that the coat was my security blanket. That I was like some little kid that wouldn't let go of a scruffy piece of blanket or toy, that I needed it to feel safe. Codswallop! I wore it for four reasons. First I looked good in it. I knew this for a fact as I'd seen it flow out and around me as I walked or ran past shop windows, iconic I reckoned. Second, it had lots of pockets which came in really useful. Third, it kept me warm. Cardiff was a damn cold city and the Bay's even worse with the wind whipping in across the water. A skimpy jacket that didn't cover my butt is not for me, however much other people would like a better view of my rear end! And the fourth reason - did I mention I looked good in it? There was a downside to the coat as I remembered now as I got into the SUV. Wearing it when driving was uncomfortable unless I took a minute or two – as I did now - to rearrange it under me; sitting on a fold can be a pain in the butt as well as creating creases. In the coat not my butt.

Putting my foot down, I drove to the Park. It was not far and the roads were pretty clear for the time of night. The clubs didn't empty for an hour or so when the crowds of drunks appeared on the streets, not that Tuesday was generally too bad for that sort of thing. Only a few people were walking around and the vehicles I saw were headed in the opposite direction to me. At least there were fewer buses, damned things! They blocked the streets and were forever stopping and starting, making driving absolute hell. Ought to be banned. 'Cos they will be soon. Private transport for all was on its way and it can't come a moment too soon in my opinion though I shall miss this SUV, best vehicle Torchwood has ever had even it I do say so myself. Had to fight to get decent vehicles in the past, being the boss has some compensations. Still, flying above Cardiff's streets was something to look forward to.

I swung into the car park and stopped, checking the location of the Weevil. It had not moved far, just to the small clump of trees on the right. With the spray, hood and restraints in my pockets – the coat coming into its own again – I headed in that direction leaving the SUV where it was, walking fast. I only slowed when I heard movement ahead and spotted a dark shape bending over. For a moment I thought it might be feeding. Weevils got mad when you disturbed them eating. Plus, if they were feeding it usually meant some unsuspecting passer-by had become a late night snack and that meant a cover up which in turn meant paperwork. Not my favourite task. Standing and watching, I saw my Weevil buddy was not feeding. I wasn't sure what he was doing snuffling around in the dirt. Time I made my big entrance. Moving forward, I got close before he sensed me and then it was fun time.

With lightening speed he slammed me up against a tree; that hurt! Not giving him the upper hand, I was on him, pulling him round to face me and throwing a right that connected but though he went down he didn't stay there. He was up and in my face, whacking me again and I danced around with him, both of us connecting some punches but nothing stopped him. Then I found myself on my back with him on top: not good. Looked like this one would get away from me, embarrassing but not unheard of, when he went for the jugular. Got close too and I felt a chunk of flesh being torn away. Then the Weevil stopped, loosened his grip and got off me. Looking up I saw someone else above us, bashing the Weevil with a tree branch. Good for him! As I scrambled to my feet I saw my rescuer was loosing the fight and the Weevil was on him. I jumped on the Weevil's back and wrestled him down, straddling him and using the spray. With the hood over his head he quietened enough for me to administer the sedative. And the Weevil was out for the count, thank God.

As I stood I got my first good look at my rescuer - and liked what I saw. Tall, dark and handsome just didn't do him justice. I gave him a quick once over, checking for wounds. Yeah, right! He was hot! Short jacket and tight jeans showed him off to advantage. I wanted him to turn round so I could get a look at his butt but he didn't. Oh well, can't have everything.

"Thanks," he said. Deep, rich voice and Welsh. Sexy.

"No, thank you," I replied, in my most confident manner. "And you are?" Had to ask for a name first, I've scared off too many people asking for a phone number straight away. Save me from twenty first century hang ups!

"Jones, Ianto Jones."

"Nice to meet you, Jones, Ianto Jones. Captain Jack Harkness." I stuck my hand out and he took it, good strong grip and warm dry skin. Can't stand limp, sweaty handshakes; this one was fine.

"Lucky escape," he said. Cheeky bugger, who did he think he was?

"I had it under control." And don't you think otherwise, pretty boy, I wanted to add but didn't.

"Think so? Looked pretty vicious. You're um …" I swayed backwards when he reached out. If he saw the Weevil bite me I may have to Retcon him. "You WERE bleeding." He saw.

"Had worse from shaving." The cocky joke works sometimes and I really didn't want to Retcon this one. He was cute. Great nose, little turned up at the end. I'd like to get to know this one better.

"Looked like a Weevil to me." Damn, damn and triple damn! Why did this always happen to me!? Why was it the sexy ones I'd like to get to know who saw too much? And he'd turned round, the butt was … wonderful. Not important, I told myself, forcing my brain to concentrate on what he had said: how did he know about Weevils?

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Like that was going to work, I thought. He looked at me with a speculative air. It was clear he didn't believe me so he does know what a Weevil looks like, what they are – damn! "I'll take it from here." With a quick movement, I got the Weevil over my shoulder ready to go. I'd check the guy out soon as I got back to the Hub. He knew way too much. "Thanks for the assistance."

He called after me as I walked away, "Any time. By the way, love the coat."

It took all my self possession to start walking again. He was coming onto me, I was certain. The hottest guy I'd seen for a while was making moves on me. Which, of course, was just as it should be. It was such a pity he knew about Weevils. If he was one of the Dark Talk nutters I'd have to Retcon him. With the Weevil in the back of the SUV I drove back to the Hub, playing over all that had happened in the park. The guy knew too much to be there by chance. Had he set it up, got the Weevil there and then called in the alert? Unlikely, no one tells a Weevil what to do. More likely he heard the alert and followed me. Jeez, I may have a stalker, always wanted one of them.

Back at the Hub, I slung the Weevil over my shoulder again and took him direct to the cells. The sedative was starting to wear off as I dumped it in the first empty cell I found, stepping back to lock the door securely. I waited to make sure he came round all right. Weevils may be annoying, vicious creatures but I don't like hurting them unnecessarily. This one recovered fine, launched himself at me and snarled to show how much he cared. Now, time to check up on my handsome stranger. I recalled his features and a familiar feeling stole over me: I so wanted a shag and that guy would do just fine. With a laugh, I flung the greatcoat over a chair and climbed down to my quarters. No shag for me, not tonight. Great pity - for him and for me. Taking off the shirt, I saw it was ruined and put it in the bin, the third this week. Perhaps it would be better to go on these jaunts naked, at least that way I wouldn't keep ruining my clothes.

Back in the office I snagged a bottle of water from the side and took a drink. Swinging the chair round to face the PC, I got into the database and ran the name; Jones, Ianto Jones. Plenty of Joneses but only one Ianto of the right age and there was his pretty face. Well, not so pretty actually, even HIS passport photo was appalling. I read his entry. He had a standard childhood, education and … oh, I hadn't expected a conviction. I was liking this guy more and more. Then I hit paydirt. It was no wonder he knew about Weevils. Ianto Jones joined Torchwood One in 2005 and was one the few who got out alive after Canary Wharf. Unlike Rose. I sat back and shut my eyes; I had thought I was over her by now. Why had she died? She had been so brave, so resourceful, so beautiful, so wonderful. What the hell had The Doctor done to let her die in that bloodbath!? He had been supposed to look after her! He had been supposed to look after me!

Calm down, I tell myself, calm down. There was nothing I could do about it now. Any day now, any day and he'd be here. I wouldn't get him to fix me if I throttled him first. With a deep breath I went back to my stalker. He had a girlfriend – Lisa Hallett – who was missing, presumed dead. Dead like Rose. There was no record of what became of Ianto Jones after the Battle, he must have upped sticks and headed back home to Mum. But I realised he didn't, he was not living at home; he was in Cathays not far from the Park. I imagined him living alone, grieving for his lost Lisa. I decided that a lonely guy like that who had been wandering around the Park at night might welcome a visit from a handsome man, someone to cheer up his sad and lonely life. I pondered the idea a bit more, for once not willing to jump in with both feet. This guy could be a bit special if I played my cards right. Or he could be a problem. Time to find out.

Getting to my feet, I put on the greatcoat again – he had said he liked it – before stopping in the Medical Bay for some low strength Retcon. On the drive back to Cathays I played out what was to come in my head. Would it be lust at second sight with us falling on one another or would I have to make him forget all about me? I so hoped it would be the former. Or maybe I could have both. That was appealing; great sex that I would remember even if he wouldn't. Turning into his road - Heol-y-Gwent – I wondered how it was properly pronounced. To me it looked like 'Holy Gwent' but somehow I just knew it would be so different if he said it. I had only heard him say a dozen words but those deep, rich Welsh vowels had really got to me. After parking, I finally found number 441; a flat at the top of the three story block. Deciding against ringing the bell, better to take him by surprise, I picked the lock and climbed the stairs. I rapped on the front door and ran a hand through my hair before he was in front of me, framed in the doorway.

"We meet again, Jones, Ianto Jones." I smiled my best smile, the one that makes knees turn to water. All it did to him was make him go white as a sheet and attempt to shut the door in my face. I was not having that. "Whoa, that's no way to greet a visitor." I pushed my way in, holding the door open against him pushing it closed.

"Please leave," he said. No lovely vowels, just curt and commanding.

"What? And pass up the chance to get better acquainted?"

I strolled past him into the living room. And stopped dead, my heart in my mouth and feeling cold and very, very scared. With no time to hesitate, no time to consider, I acted and I don't regret it. The … thing was lying on a bed and I fired, putting a bullet through its brain. Ripping the wires and tubes from its body, I didn't even notice that this had once been a beautiful woman. It was only later that I saw that.

"What have you done!?" Ianto Jones was in the doorway behind me. He rushed me but fell to the floor when the butt of the Webley made contact with his temple.

I had to sit down and collapsed into a chair, head between my knees taking deep breaths, feeling sick. I had expected to find the man lazing in front of the TV and hoped for a shag. But to find a Cyberman – shit! My hands were shaking as I thought of what might have happened if it had got loose. Earth overrun with Cybermen. Surely this fool boy had seen enough at Canary Wharf not to want to inflict that on anyone else? Pushing myself to my feet I went over to the bed and saw for the first time that it was a half-converted woman. I checked for a pulse and any other signs of life but didn't find any, thank God. The bullet had done its job. After slapping restraints on the unconscious man on the floor, I checked the rest of the flat in case he'd hidden more than one. It was clear, no monsters under the bed or in the wardrobe but plenty of kit obviously looted from Torchwood Tower. And a diary. That went into a coat pocket for reading later. I sat down again, knees still weak, and rested my head against the back of the chair.

I needed time to think, to pull myself together and took a moment. Then it was time to get things moving. Pulling out my mobile, I sent an emergency text to the team telling them to get to the flat immediately and was pleased when the three acknowledgements arrived inside four minutes, this team was good. With nothing to do but wait for them to arrive, I stayed in the chair and felt eyes upon me. Looking down I saw the boy, Ianto, was awake and staring at me with such hatred I was surprised I didn't curl up and die there and then.

To be continued … if you'd like me to.