I wished to have a word with you… about Jack. About… you and Jack.’

Ianto made a tiny, awkward noise.

Agnes leant forward, smiling. ‘Am I correct in understanding that there is an intimacy between the two of you?’

Ianto nodded, looking as if he’d like to hide under a rock.

‘No doubt one initiated by Harkness,’ said Agnes soothingly. ‘There is nothing to blame yourself for. You certainly wouldn’t be the first member of Torchwood to be corrupted by the Captain’s reprehensible morals. Sometimes I wonder if that man is incapable of forming a platonic friendship. He has all the swordsmanship of a Frenchie. It’s common knowledge that the men of that country would seduce a table with an attractively turned leg. I rather fear the furniture of Torchwood is similarly prey to that man’s depravities. But no matter. I do not concern myself with the despoiling of desking. As far as I’m concerned, he can slake his lusts on all manner of inanimate objects. No, rather it’s perishable goods… it is you I am worried about.’

She laid a hand on Ianto’s and met his shrinking eye.

‘Do you have feelings for Captain Harkness, Mr Jones?’

‘Yes,’ said Ianto simply.

‘You should be aware…’ Agnes coughed. ‘Well, it’s just that I have known several of the Captain’s companions. I’ve even met a fair few of them. My point is that those close to Harkness tend to die. He just isn’t aware that his invulnerability doesn’t extend to those he loves.’

‘I know,’ said Ianto quietly.

Agnes looked at him, hard. ‘Well, I understand. It’s entirely your choice. But I must warn you there’s only one outcome. And I am sorry for you.’

‘I see,’ said Ianto, tightly. ‘Thank you.’

And they sat quietly for a while, while the empty radio hissed away.