Fish and chips in hand, Jack stared at the crowd of women surrounding him. They were jostling each other, holding out bits of paper and pens.
“Please, Mr Barrowman, could we have your autograph?” the spokeswoman for the group asked.
He dimly registered one of the other women murmuring something about him being even better looking in person, but the sound of Ianto sniggering behind him was drowning out her comments.
“I’m sorry, ladies, I’d love to help you out, but I swear I’m not the guy you think I am!”
How the hell did he get into these situations?