I don't quite know how I've ended up at the back of our merry little group of not terribly merry people, but here I am. I trudge along, hands in my pockets, mostly letting the conversations pass over my head.

I badly want to go home.

I want my tea. Or coffee. Or something vaguely caffeinated, at any rate. I want to enjoy seeing Tosh and Owen around again -- which is the only advantage of being here, of course; I still can't believe they're alive and dead/alive, respectively.

I want to go home.

I stop, cursing the stick that's gotten into my shoe. "Just a minute," I call to the others, and sit down on a handy but rather drippy-looking log to take off my shoe.

A noise makes my head whip around. Is someone else coming?

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I open the door next to the sign and step into a fairly lush looking jungle well, a man made jungle at any rate. I think I can definately say that this is a station of some sort. It is a little on the deserted side for that sort of thing though.

I make my way into the self contained jungle and wander until I hear voices. I double around to make sure that I'm behind the voices when I hear one voice stray away from the others. Then I spot him!

There he is just sitting on a log with his shoe off calling for his companions to hold up and wait for him. Damn shame they didn't listen they'd have saved him no end of grief.

I pick up a stick which has fallen from a nearby tree and toss it off to the poor boy's left to get him to turn around then I sneak up behind him, slip off my ridiculous gas mask and put the barrel of my energy pistol at the base of his skull.

"Well, well, well, I spend a whole day mucking about the 20th Century trying to find my old pal Jack, bam, I get teleported across time and space to who knows where and what do I find but Jack's new chew-toy sitting on a log all by his lonesome. By-the-by, handsome, I wouldn't call out. It'll just get your pretty head vaporized." I look down and see the look on the boy's face and can't help but smile.

"Aww, did Jackie-boy go off and make himself a new friend while you weren't looking? Yeah, handsome, he does that. Now come on. Up you come. What say you and I plan a little party for Jackie-boy, hmmm?"

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Something hard's shoved into the back of my neck, and I freeze. A familiar voice says, "Well, well, well, I spend a whole day mucking about the 20th Century trying to find my old pal Jack, bam, I get teleported across time and space to who knows where and what do I find but Jack's new chew-toy sitting on a log all by his lonesome. By-the-by, handsome, I wouldn't call out. It'll just get your pretty head vaporized."

Oh, God.

John.

My breathing's coming faster and faster. He's got me. If he decides to kill me, I'm dead, and I can't call out. The others are too far ahead.

"Aww, did Jackie-boy go off and make himself a new friend while you weren't looking? Yeah, handsome, he does that. Now come on. Up you come. What say you and I plan a little party for Jackie-boy, hmmm?"

"Could it be something involving your dismemberment for fun and profit?" I say tightly as I let him pull me up.

Great. Haven't been here an hour and already I've screwed up.

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I pull him up a bit rougher than I initially meant to.

"Sadly, gorgeous, that really doesn't work for me." I give his hair a tug so that I can speak directly into his ear and press the gun a bit harder into the back of his head. "Keep that up, though, and I might be able to arrange a rousing little scavenger hunt for him. Eh, sounds like fun doesn't it? Leaving him little clues here and there as to the whereabouts of his new boytoy's body parts?" I give him a little nudge to tell him to move.

"If you manage to survive this, get Jack to tell you what happend to Sol Vozz on Havak'mal 6."

I walk behind him with the gun still trained on him. "So tell me, handsome, what brings you, Jack and your little Torchwood mates to an artificial jungle in the middle of nowhere?"

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John yanks my hair and hisses in my ear, shoving the gun harder into my skull. I grunt, trying not to cry out. Have to listen to what he's blathering on about. Might be something useful in it.

Or I might just be kidding myself and I'm going to need rescuing. Or a bodybag.

He pushes me, indicating that I should get moving. I start walking, reluctantly, every sense focused on him. Still didn't get that damn twig out of my shoe.

"So tell me, handsome, what brings you, Jack and your little Torchwood mates to an artificial jungle in the middle of nowhere?"

"Why, where do you take YOUR holidays?" I say dryly, then I reconsider being a smartarse given what he's been saying about scavenger hunts. I bow my head a little. Doesn't hurt to let him think I've been cowed. Never mind the fact that there might be a hint of truth in that. "We all just appeared here. No idea why, or where it is."

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There we are. Jack's new boy seems to be behaving himself now.

"Yeah, that sort of thing happens when you hang about with time agents. Especially Jack. What was your name again, Yani, Iago...?"

I walk along behind him following in Jack's footsteps.

"So you lot are just as in the dark about where or when you are as I am, eh? Interesting."

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I frown, step around a big pile of wet leaves, and keep walking. He doesn't know what's going on either? That means he's not the one responsible for bringing us here... unless, of course, he's just playing us. Again. Wouldn't put it past him.

What the hell am I going to do when we catch up to the others? I can't lead him straight to them. Well... I don't want to.

"Ianto. It's not difficult," I say shortly. We walk on for a while. I'm getting thoroughly sick of this. I don't want to be used against Jack, or the others.

I mutter, "Though I imagine most of your brain power goes on fighting and doing that other thing that begins with 'f'. What do you have planned, anyway? If you don't know why we're here either, why do you imagine Jack can do anything for you?"

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"I don't believe in coincidences. I just find it odd that one minute I'm mucking about in your world's past looking for Jack and then a moment later I'm whisked away against my will and land in a space station who-knows where or when and the first person I bump into is one of Jack's little Torchwood mates.

Now call me a cynic if you like but I call that a pretty curious turn of events don't you?"

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"You can be a cynic if you like," I say, exasperated.

I'm very aware of not pushing him too far, however, so I keep walking as I snark at him. "But if you truly believe that Jack orchestrated bringing you here when he can find perfectly good toenail fungus to give him exactly the same burning, irritating sensation as you give him, then you might be staring at the wrong side of delusional."

I don't really want him to blow my head off, but right now it's looking like I don't have too many options.

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I stop for a moment and actually have to laugh at that. I keep the gun trained on the little Welsh chewtoy not being an amateur and all that.

"You're trying to get me to kill you aren't you?" Sorry, I have to have another laugh at this. Honestly, this lily-white stuffed-shirt, nancy-boy is actually trying to be a hero. That is adorable.

"Don't tell me, let me guess, if you goad me into turning your head into a fine red mist then you won't have to lead me back to Jack and the others and somehow in your mind this actually saves Jack." I walk forward and put an arm around the lad's neck. I make sure that he can still see the gun and where it's pointed, namely his face at this point but I start to walk with him, arm around his shoulder like we were old pals. Gun to his head like we're mortal enemies. I love a good juxtaposition but then who doesn't?

"Look, Ianto...you mind if I call you Ianto? Course you don't I've got a gun to your head. What was I thinking? Ianto, let me give you as sound s piece of advice as you're ever going to get, from someone who's known Jack a hell of alot longer than you have and...you know what, I'm not going to say I know him better than you. Why, you ask? Because deep down, nobody really knows Jack. Mark my words though, Jack Harkness will one day break your heart provided he doesn't get you killed first. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but mark my words Junior Secret Agent Boy,"

I tap his chest with the barrel of the gun right over his heart for emphasis, "He will shatter this, no matter how well you keep it guarded, he will rip it out of your chest, smash it on the floor and there will not be a goddamned thing you can do about it. And what's worse, do you want to know the really, really infuriating part? Chances are he won't even realize he's doing it. You see, that's the thing about Jackie-boy. He's not a cruel man. Well, sometimes if you ask him real nice but I'm sure you know all about that. What he is though, is thoughtless. And if you don't believe me, ask yourself this, why hasn't he come back to look for you? Hmm?"

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He laughs, and his footsteps stop. I freeze.

"You're trying to get me to kill you aren't you? Don't tell me, let me guess, if you goad me into turning your head into a fine red mist then you won't have to lead me back to Jack and the others and somehow in your mind this actually saves Jack."

I badly want to say, no, you're just annoying me, but there's elements of truth in what he's saying and there's no point in arguing. I sigh, then feel him walk up behind me. His arm goes around my neck, gun pointed at my face, of course. He starts to walk. I resist for a moment, but what's the point.

"Look, Ianto...you mind if I call you Ianto? Course you don't I've got a gun to your head. What was I thinking? Ianto, let me give you as sound s piece of advice as you're ever going to get, from someone who's known Jack a hell of alot longer than you have and...you know what, I'm not going to say I know him better than you. Why, you ask? Because deep down, nobody really knows Jack. Mark my words though, Jack Harkness will one day break your heart provided he doesn't get you killed first. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but mark my words Junior Secret Agent Boy,"

He smacks me on the chest with the gun. Completely improper use of firearms. If Owen did something as dangerous as that, I'd -- I'd probably hug him, right now, to be honest, because I'm so relieved that he's dead/alive again instead of being dead/dead, and there's also the whole 'If it were Owen instead of this homicidal maniac I'd be feeling a tad safer' element.

John keeps talking. Of course he does. Loves the sound of his own voice.

"He will shatter this, no matter how well you keep it guarded, he will rip it out of your chest, smash it on the floor and there will not be a goddamned thing you can do about it. And what's worse, do you want to know the really, really infuriating part? Chances are he won't even realize he's doing it. You see, that's the thing about Jackie-boy. He's not a cruel man. Well, sometimes if you ask him real nice but I'm sure you know all about that. What he is though, is thoughtless. And if you don't believe me, ask yourself this, why hasn't he come back to look for you? Hmm?"

I can feel myself drooping as every word washes over me.
Every...
damn...
truthful...
word.

Jack hasn't come back. He probably hasn't even realised I'm not with them yet.

What am I doing? John's right, though it pains me to even think it. Jack... is Jack. He's not like me.

"He'll have a plan," I say doggedly, refusing to let John win completely. Even though I know I've sagged against him. "Jack always knows what he's doing."

Does he, though? Does he really?

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Aww, now I've gone and hurt the little fellow's feelings.

"Oh when it comes to doing, yeah, Jack's always got a plan and it's usually a good one. When it comes to thinking and considering the feelings of others though, there he gets a little shakey. But what am I doing going on and on about it. You'll find out soon enough.

Tell you what, you lead me back to Jack and the others and we'll all put our heads together and figure out a way out of here. What are you afraid I'm going to do to Jack, hmm? Kill him? I'll even do you one better just to show that I'm not a completely bad bloke. You have my word that I won't try to kill you or any of your little friends until we're all safe and sound back in our own little corner of time/space. Provided you lead me to him with no funny business. Come on, handsome, give us a smile. What do you say?"

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I twist to look at him, as much as I can given where the gun is, an expression of complete consternation on my face. "Oh, come on, now. Do you really think I'm stupid enough to accept your word for something? You don't look addled enough to believe that."

All I'm willing to accept from him is that he wishes to cause Jack the most pain possible. And while I might not be completely sure of how I feel about Jack right now, I don't want him hurt.

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I shrug a bit, can't hardly blame the lad. Despite the fact that I want to be out of here every bit as badly as he and Jackie-boy do, were the tables turned, I wouldn't trust me either.

"Fair enough then, handsome. Can't blame a lad for trying though. Still, can't wander about in the sodding jungle forever now can we?" I loosen my grip on his shoulder just a touch.

"Just so there's no hard feelings. I respect your position and, honestly, I don't blame you. Nope. Not one bit. Time was, not so long ago, that I'd have done anything in the universe, regardless of how daft it was, for that man. Hopefully, you'll get to live long enough to grow out of your little infatuation, too. God knows it won't take Jack long to move on past you. If I can't you to take me to Jack," and with that I bash the handsome little Earthman hard in the back of the head with the butt of my gun. As he crumples I add, "I'll just have to get Jackie-boy to come to us." as I begin to gather up vines to bind him with.

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John takes my resistance with equanimity, which is quite refreshing, really. It's always nice when a homicidal maniac with a gun doesn't instantly destroy you when you object to something he says.

Enjoying the sound of his own voice nearly as much as Jack does, he rambles on a little more about Jack. I sigh, wondering if I will in fact get over my "little infatuation" with him. I know I care for him, and I know he cares for me, but I don't think it'll ever be quite what I'd like.

I turn when I hear an odd note in his voice, but then there's a sharp impact on my skull, and my legs won't hold me up anymore. I slam face-first into the ground, feeling stupid and useless, and then I don't feel anything as unconsciousness washes over me.

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I bind my captive with the thick, strong vines which seem to grow absolutely everywhere around these parts. Lacking a gag that I know for sure won't kill him (I don't have the time to analyze every bit of fauna in the area) I put the poor, long-departed German soldier-boy's gas mask on him.

I bind him to a tree and make sure that I tie some still-rooted vines to his ankles on the off chance that the clever boy manages to untangle himself.

And with that, I blow my unconscious captive a kiss and head off to find Jack.

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I wake up slowly, head pounding. Something's on my face. I lift a hand irritably to bat it away, but I can't move-

I can't move.

Oh, God.

I'm tied to something, and while a tiny little piece of me is harbouring hope that Jack's done this and he'll appear soon, grinning, waving the stopwatch at me, the rest of me is only too aware that I am in quite a lot of danger.

Just call me Penelope Pitstop.

My arms are behind my back, ankles spread, and these appallingly thick vines are holding me firmly against a tree. I have a gas mask? Gas mask over my face.

Oh, God. I'm not all that claustrophobic generally, but there are times that call for panicking, and this appears to be one of them.

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