A/N: my little coda to 'Cyberwoman'. Annie is the name of the pizza delivery girl (according to the credits) and I gave her the surname of 'Walker' simply because it is (I think) the surname of the actress who played her.
Of course I don't own anything recognisable!



It was nearing eleven pm and the weather forecast was predicting more fine weather, throughout South Wales, for the next few days. Alis Walker picked up the empty mugs off the coffee table and rose to take them into the kitchen, whilst her husband, Dai, turned off the TV. She was about to remind him to leave the porch light on for Annie, when suddenly there came a heavy rap on the front door. It made her jump slightly, it was too early for it to be her daughter; whose part-time pizza delivery job meant that on the weekend she didn't return until the early hours of the morning (although Alis was secretly glad Annie was willing to contribute to the house, considering she'd never moved out when she went to University.)
Whatever she expected to see when she opened the front door, it was not two uniformed police officers, florescent yellow jackets illuminating their tired faces.
"Mrs Walker?" The female officer spoke, her face serious, "I'm PC Gwen Cooper and this is PC Harper, we'd like to have a word with you and your husband please." They flashed their at Alis and she stepped back, allowing them in, just as Dai emerged from the lounge.

The Police Officer's words filtered through to Alis as though through a thick mist, she heard only broken sentences, but the words "sorry... car accident... drunk driver... dead on impact..." told her all she needed to know, as did the sorrowful look in PC Cooper's eyes. The male Police Officer, PC Harper she remembered, stood stiffly beside her. 'He probably does this all the time', she thought, then noticed that her hands were shaking and Dai had his arm tight around her.

It was only when the police had left, after showing them a photo to identify the body, that it actually sank in. Her daughter was dead. Only twenty-two years old and mown down on her way home. Apparently a drunk driver had ploughed into Annie's 'Jubilee Pizza' Moped, as well as another car and a pedestrian. Just like that she was swept from their lives.

For Alis the next few days passed in a whirlwind of tears, ringing relatives to inform them, waiting for the police to release the body for a funeral and hoping, hoping desperately that it was all one long nightmare that she would soon break free from. So when she answered the door early on Sunday morning she expected it to be yet another neighbour expressing their condolences and therefore was surprised to find a young man on her doorstep. She would have thought him one of Annie's friends, but for his face, which was bruised and swollen, with several deep scratches.
"Can I speak to Alis Walker, please", he asked suddenly
Alis nodded and gestured for him to step into the house. He offered a weak smile of gratitude and followed her into the lounge. Alis sat back down in her chair, but the young man stood awkwardly in front of her, looking unsure.
"Take a seat", she smiled gently, "what did you want to speak about?"
The young man placed himself right on the edge of the sofa and swallowed, almost nervously, before speaking, "I was in the accident, the car accident, with your daughter."
Alis looked at him sharply, but sensing her thoughts he shook his head, "I wasn't the, err, I didn't cause it, I was in another car. I got off the lightest and I had to come and see you because I just feel so awful, that they died and I got off with a few bruises and it's all my..." he trailed off, tears welling in his eyes. Eyes that Alis noted were already swollen red, just as hers were, by tears. Something twisted in Alis' stomach and she rose and eased the young man into a hug, not being able to bear it, watching him tear himself up about something he had no part in.
"No," she said "it wasn't your fault, the driver was drunk, the police said there was nothing anyone could have done."
The young man raised a hand to wipe away his tears and Alis realised how young he was, only a year or so older than Annie if she was any judge.
"What's your name, dear?" she asked gently
"Ianto", he replied quietly, "Ianto Jones."
"Ianto," She echoed "That's a nice welsh name, now, would you like a cup of tea?"


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