This wasn't Cardiff, Ianto decided as he picked himself up from the kind of landing that involved stairs, an ungraceful landing and the obligatory loss of dignity. At least, it had started off with stairs. Didn't quite finish with them, which was where the whole problem had started; around the time he'd gotten to the last step, disappearing and replaced by... not much at all, the rather quick trip downwards had ended in a paved surface that felt uncomfortably like a cold sidewalk. Considering he'd been in the Hub tidying up many of the classified documents which had been scattered all over the main room in the wake of the planets moving, the abrupt change of surroundings was somewhat concerning.
"Right..." He rubbed his forehead to shake off the blear, then peered around, instinctively trying to get a grasp of the area. Too dark to properly see, he resigned himself that this was going to be a case of scouting the area and figuring out what had happened now. He'd had enough of the Earth shifting to places where it really shouldn't that day, but clearly something was still going awry.
He shouldn't have been surprised. No, really. He shouldn't. Spatial displacement - a theory which gave him far more comfort than the frankly terrifying one that he was suddenly lost in time due to the ever-changing whims of the Rift - was hardly the worst thing he'd experienced. At least nothing with lurking tendencies had chosen that moment to jump out and attack.
And with that uneasy thought in mind, he began to move quickly, suppressing the impulse to take out his gun. Wales or not - and he was decidedly leaning towards not - his luck was never that good - there were always constants that never failed to unnerve the public, and running around with a weapon was very high on that particular list. Instead, he kept his hand in easy distance of where it was holstered firmly into his belt, the familiar weight reassuring against his hip.
The slight ache starting to make a valiant attempt to drum through his forehead now that the initial adrenaline was wearing off, and the slow, warm spread down his temple gave him a hint that the fall hadn't left him unmarked, but he ignored it for the time being. His eyes were intent on nothing and everything at once as he approached what seemed to be a shop. Or what had at one point in its existence been a shop. The movement he saw within it seemed more important to him than that small detail.
Stepping up to the door, he took a cursory glance around to survey the room, just in case, and called out cautiously. "Hi. I don't suppose I could bother you for information about where I am, and possibly a suture or two?"