Open to any Ianto
Lisa crawled through the debris, the smell of hot metal and melted plastic filled her nose. She choked and tasted blood, pain shot through her arm as she gasped. "Ianto?" Lisa made it a few more feet, he had to be here. There was a crack and debris fell from the ceiling, pinning her legs.
She cried out and tried to push up, but failed as darkness overcame her.
She turned over and jerked awake. The air was cool, clean, she was in a large overstuffed armchair in what looked like the lobby of a rather swanky hotel. Very at odds with the dirt and blood and scorch marks on her clothing. Where were they? This was not Torchwood. Lisa stood up quickly, looked around in confusion and promptly passed out.