Quick! To the Bat-fax!

"Move it, kid."

"You're Captain Jack Harkness, aren't you?"

"Depends who's asking."

"Tim Drake. I'm interested in Torchwood."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I have photos. This is where the elevator is, isn't it? I've seen people stand here and vanish."

"...observant kid. Come on down. I'll show you around. Give you some soda."

"Oh, I'd love a look around, but no thanks on the soda. I know about retcon, and I'd really prefer to keep my memories, thanks."

"How do you know all this?"

"I have my ways. And I have a lot of time on my hands."

"What do you want?"

"A job."

"We don't hire kids."

"I'm almost eighteen."

"Do your parents know where you are?"

"Dead."

"You have to have someone."

"My guardian's disappeared, and my older brother's trying to take his place. I would be helping, but it all seems...pointless."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm. Only so much one person can do."

"So you want to join Torchwood."

"At the very least, it should be interesting."

"Skills?"

"Detective. Combat. I'm good with computers too."

"Hmm. Maybe. Can you use a gun?"

"I'm not using a gun. I can fight fine without it."

"No gun? Kid, we'll need guns and worse going up against some of the things we're fighting."

"I've fought worse without."

"Also, I'm not sure how comfortable I am letting jailbait on the team."

"That's your most ridiculous excuse yet."

"Hmm. You can help from the base, maybe. We'll see about combat later."

"That's all I ask."

"Well, Tim Drake. Welcome to Torchwood."