Jack stood a top the highest perch of Torchwood tower looking over the city of Cardiff below. From up here the city almost looked peaceful below, but Jack knew the truth. The city was full of danger and not just from the common criminal, but from the weevils that inhabited its parks. As the Director of Torchwood, it was his job to make sure that any suspicious deaths were dealt with. The motto of Torchwood use to be "If it's alien, it's ours," but over the years he had tried to change that. Tried to change it to make Torchwood something the Doctor would be proud of.

As his thoughts turned to the Doctor he shuddered slightly, despite the nice day. It had also been a beautiful day the last time the man he waited over 100 years for had returned. Yet there last day together was something he would rather forget. He had never been afraid of the Doctor, but as he lay on the ground spent, he had seen the reason the Doctor had been known as the Oncoming Storm. The anger in his eyes, as he pulled up and zipped his trousers had terrified Jack. He didn't dare call out to him as the Doctor headed to his TARDIS and slammed the doors behind him. He had waited until the Doctor had left until he pulled himself shakily to his feet. His body ached and he had felt numb.

Jack shook his head. Dwelling on it was not going to change anything. What had happened between them was done and over with. The Doctor had been in pain and while it was unfair for him to take his pain out on Jack, it had been equally unfair for Jack to push him into it. Both of them were to blame for what happened that night, yet Jack knew if they were to ever meet up again, it would never be mentioned.

He closed his eyes for just a moment, and let the warm wind brush across his face. He raised his arms slowly, making sure to keep his feet steady. For just a moment, he considered jumping. Jumping would resolve nothing though, but cause him to wake up on the cold cement alone with a headache that a bottle of whiskey wouldn't help. That was if he woke up. Something about his body felt off. Since he had become immortal he had never gotten sick. Yet now he felt as though he was getting a cold. His head felt stuffy and his stomach ached slightly. He has almost been sick this morning for the first time in as long as he could remember. Perhaps this immortal curse was finally wearing off and he would be allowed to die and stay dead. The thought of it scared him but at the same time was welcoming, he had been alive for to long.

He opened his again and glazed one last time out at the city, before turning around and heading back inside. He had been outside long enough and if he stayed any longer, Ianto would come looking for him. He didn't feel like talking about his feelings but Ianto would insist on it. Ianto was the only good thing in his life right now and he didn't want the young Welshman to worry. Taking one last deep breath of the warm air, he headed inside to the cool building that was deep in the sewers. His home as well as his job, Torchwood.