Title: Viewpoint
Author: Captains Cariad
Pairing: gen
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Jack as storyteller. Sadly the Jack on my TV doesn't answer when I ask what he's thinking about, so thought I'd see what I could come up with. I don't own Jack brooding on the roof, but doesn't he do it well?!
Disclaimer: They're definitely not mine, but the boys like to play and so do I.
Summary: Jack's doing some rooftop brooding.

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"Torchwood. Separate from the Government, outside the police, beyond the United Nations, tracking down alien life on Earth, arming the human race against the future. The 21st Century is when everything changes and you've got to be ready.

Cardiff — Latitude: 51 degrees 28' North, Longitude: 3 degrees 11' West, capital city of Wales, home to Torchwood 3 and built on a rift in space and time.

I'm Captain Jack Harkness, head of Torchwood 3, 51st Century soul, rogue Time Agent, former con man & American volunteer with RAF 133 Squadron. An enigma, I suppose you could say, but then there are things about myself that remain a mystery even to me since the Time Agency wiped my memory, taking 2 years of my life. Oh and did I mention I'm immortal — I can't die; sticks & stones may breaks my bones, but death will never get me. Comes in kinda handy when you live on a rift that frequently spews space junk & alien flotsam n' jetsam into the Welsh countryside.

From my viewpoint on a rooftop high above, the city is spread at my feet like a patchwork quilt, hundreds of lives interwoven with thoughts, emotions & dreams, zigzagged with fears like the roads that dissect the landscape. Tonight in the cool autumn air, Cardiff seems to sigh & gently settle as if sleeping; it glows ghostly orange with pinpricks of white that twinkle across the skyline. Nothing wicked this way comes...for now.

Somewhere below my team are going about their lives making the most of a few precious hours respite from the "day-job". Not that you can really call Torchwood a "day-job" — there's no simple 9 to 5 & overtime is never optional. It's all-consuming, all-singing, all-dancing, all-fighting, gun-toting protecting the universe one alien at a time.

Yeah, they're down there doing the usual Friday night stuff. Intensely private Tosh; the brilliant computer expert with the logical mind curled up with a good book & a glass of wine. Barfly Owen; our resident medic, no doubt trying out his chat-up lines in his usual insolent & headstrong manner. Then there's beautiful Gwen, passionate & determined ex-police sergeant laughing over a cheesy film with her boyfriend Rhys. Last, but most definitely not least is Ianto, my darling Ianto. He of the polite, efficient, calm exterior & cute suit that hides such depths that he never ceases to surprise me. He's probably pottering round the Hub, tidying the day's debris, waiting for me to return to share that secret smile he keeps just for me.

On night's like this I like being up here, on my own - alone with my jumbled thoughts. Here they are free to untangle themselves in the crisp, night air. Alone. I'll always be alone, even when I'm lying in Ianto's arms I wake screaming in the dark, alone with my demons, my stolen memories that haunt my dreams, but refuse to come into focus.

I look out over the city, nestled next to the velvet darkness of the bay, the sea air mingling with the smell of Friday night fish n' chips. Nobody down there knows I'm standing up here watching. Most of them can't even imagine half of the things I've seen, the places I've visited, the people I've met. I think of times past, of friends now lost, of a home, so far away some place in the dark above Cardiff. My true home, my true time.

Somewhere out there among the star-studded skies flies a Time Lord in a blue box — my Doctor. Our paths cross now and then, when the whirling mists of time & space allow. I'll wait for him to pass this way again. Who knows perhaps next time I'll find the courage to tell him I love him.

I understand only too well, why he has to keep moving onwards. For the humans that so fascinate & delight him will all wither and die in time. They can spend the rest of their lives with him, but he will ultimately end up on his own. Ironic, really — in some ways we're quite alike, both immortal, both so alone. In theory, we could be together forever, but neither of us can be certain that there isn't something out there lurking in the shadows that can finish me off for good. My immortality was after all accidental, life force borrowed from the time vortex & I can't deny that I haven't longed for death. Now, though after everything that's happened I'm not so sure that I want to die anymore. I am, as he put it — a fact on the timeline. Anyway, there's still work to be done.

The phone rings, breaking into my musings. I click my earpiece to answer, ready for action.

"Harkness..."

Soft, Welsh vowels caress my ears. No emergency, it's not the end of the world...this time.

"Hey Yan — to what do I owe this pleasure?"

I smile as the lilting accent makes a very indecent proposal. I told you Ianto Jones had hidden depths. They say still waters run deep and it's oh, so true in this case let me tell you.

"The stopwatch is running, eh?"

I close my eyes for a moment, savouring the sound of Ianto's voice in the dark.

"On my way."

I turn to leave, stalking across the roof, a black silhouette against the sky, coat billowing in my wake."

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