A/N: This is an AU pre-season one fic, featuring the team and a cameo appearence from our favourite tea-boy. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood (unfortunately)

Jack motioned for the team to be quiet as he crept up the dim hallway

Jack motioned for the team to be quiet as he crept up the dim hallway. Dawn light was filtering through the windows, illuminating enough to see by. He stopped at the door, glanced at the others, and raised his gun, pausing for a moment as the others did the same, and then kicked down the door. He rushed in, Owen behind him and Tosh and Suzie bringing up the rear, guns a-blazing; only to stop, head tilted in confusion, at what he saw.

The room was absolutely bare, with a window on the right, another door on the left and wheelie chair in the centre of the room. A dark haired young man was sitting in it, one ankle on his knee, spinning slightly from side to side and fiddling with something. He looked up as the door burst open and smiled politely at them.

"Captain Harkness, I presume? Good of you to come, although I expected you'd be earlier. No matter, though."

"How did you -" started Tosh, and the man's smile widened.

"Torchwood – the most well-known secret organisation in the world. It's not hard."

"I'm sorry, and you are?" asked Owen from behind Jack's left shoulder.

"The hostage, apparently," the man said. "Although now that you've kindly opened the door for me, I think I'll head off." He stood in preparation.

"If you're the hostage, why aren't you tied up?" said Suzie suspiciously.

"Ah, yes. I thought you might ask that," the man said, sitting down again with a sigh. "They were going to tie me up, but I talked them out of it."

"You talked who out of it?" asked Jack, wondering whether this was all just a big hoax – as far as he could see, there was nothing extra terrestrial about this situation.

The man gave him an odd look. "The aliens, of course. Quite agreeable fellows, really. Just a bit misguided."

"Right," said Jack, glancing back Owen and raising his eyebrows. "And where are these aliens now?"

"In the stationery cupboard."

"The stationery cupboard."

The man grinned. "Yep."

"So let me get this straight – you talked the aliens out of tying you up, into the stationery cupboard, and then just sat there and waited for us to find you?"

"I didn't talk them into the stationery cupboard," corrected the man. "They went in on their own accord – it's their base, apparently, who'd have thought – and as for waiting for you, well, it's not as if I could get out on my own."

"But you've got a key," said Owen in his I'm-talking-to-an-idiot tone, gesturing to the small object in the stranger's hand.

"Yes," said the man, matching Owen's tone exactly. "To the stationery cupboard. I locked them in."

"What, they just left you the key to their secret base?" asked Suzie incredulously.

"I told them I wouldn't lock them in," explained the man.

"You told them – oh, for the love of God," said Owen in exasperation.

"They're not very bright, poor sods – believe almost anything you tell them. Very lateral thinkers. I told them it wouldn't get them far in terms of conquering the world, and they kindly pointed out that, in fact, they had gone far – apparently, they landed in Australia."

There was silence. Jack suppressed the mad laughter bubbling in his chest and attempted to stare at the man coolly.

"No? Well, I didn't think it was that funny either," said the man, shrugging.

"Tosh, don't laugh," Owen muttered, and there was a small muffled sound in the background as Tosh pushed her face into her shoulder. The man sent a grin at her and winked.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must be going," he said, standing up and slipping quickly past them all. He was out the door before Jack could react, and he was forced to turn and jog after the stranger, pausing just outside the door.

"Hang on a minute! Who are you?"

The man turned around, mobile phone open in his hand; in the early morning light, he was quite breathtaking.

"Ianto Jones, Torchwood London."

"You're with Torchwood London?" asked Jack in astonishment. "Well, that explains why you're so calm about aliens, at least."

Ianto Jones grinned and made a humming noise in agreement.

"What it doesn't explain is what you're doing in Cardiff," continued Jack. "Does your boss know you're here?"

"I should think so," replied Ianto. "I'm on my break, visiting my family – I'm a local, if you hadn't noticed." His voice deepened into something more teasing as he said that, and Jack grinned in response.

"And what is it that you do at Torchwood, Ianto?" he asked, slipping into flirt-mode. If Ianto noticed, he didn't show it.

"I'm an archivist," he said, voice and face impassive, and although Jack sensed there was more to it than that, he decided, for once, not to push it.

"You have specific people to look after your archives? Well, there's luxury for you, I guess. Now, our archives look like a bomb has hit them, but we get the job done all the same."

"Thank God for small favours," said Ianto dryly, eyebrows twitching up in amusement. "I'm sorry, but I really do have to go – I said I was going out for a walk but I've been gone twelve hours, and I think they might be missing me."

"Of course," said Jack. "Nice to meet you, Ianto Jones."

"The pleasure is all mine, Captain," Ianto replied smoothly, flashing Jack a disarming grin. He turned away and pressed a button on his phone, bringing it to his ear as he walked down the corridor.

"Mam? It's me – yes, I'm fine, I'll be home soon – no, I haven't been out on the pull -"

Jack laughed out loud as he watched Ianto leave the building. He leant against the window for a moment, watching the young man cross the car park, before turning back to his team – there were aliens to deal with in the stationery cupboard, after all.

Besides, he had a feeling it wasn't the last he'd see of Ianto Jones.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of them or Torchwood (unfortunately).