"He had always been able to sleep in the tightest confines, believing the reasons he couldn’t sleep in the massive beds that everyone in this century owned - no matter how tiny their bedroom- was as much to with being buried alive as it was that too much open space made him feel disconnected, like he was drifting from his moorings. It was a feeling he’d thought he’d overcome; however, in the aftermath of recent experiences, Jack had once again found himself drawn to tight spaces."
"
The book was old, its faded yellow cover stained and smelling faintly of cigarettes. Jack opened it, discovering its pages hollowed out and Gwen’s dad’s watch and wedding ring inside. Jack began tossing books from the shelves next to the window.
Ten minutes later he found the Torchwood SUV’s key fob hidden in a hardback copy of Brave New World . After another twenty minutes, he’d discovered the wrecked vehicle hidden in the nearby lock-up.
Clicking twice on the key, Jack opened the vehicle’s hatch and the wave of images and smells that assaulted his senses took him to his knees. Oranges and lilies and musk. He could see the team clambering into the vehicle and racing out to the Brecon Beacons, or speeding through the narrow backstreets of Cardiff. Tosh in the backseat, working on her laptop, Owen mocking her mercilessly, Gwen mocking Owen, and Ianto, dear sweet Ianto, taking care of them all.
Jack leaned back on his heels and closed his eyes. Ianto touched his cheek, put his lips on Jack’s, his hands moving under Jack’s shirt.
Jack let out a sob, and opened his eyes.
"
—Torchwood novel - Exodus Code (John and Carole E. Barrowman)
"
Jack noted the data scrolling across his computer and the pages and pages of information about the deranged women spread out across the table. He sighed, lamenting how much he missed his team, missed Owen and Tosh, missed the Hub and its battery of computers.
The kettle whistled on the counter behind him. He didn’t move, letting it build up its steam, missing Ianto most of all.
"
—Torchwood novel - Exodus Code (John and Carole E. Barrowman)
