Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Act I
Week One, Version Two

Coming back to the Hub was strange, very strange. The information centre looked like how he vaguely remembered it and the stack of pamphlets he'd set out to be sorted for a concert that was performing in a week—he read it a few times before he was able to convince himself the year printed was the correct one—was still by the mug with the ceramic lid Jack had given him for Christmas.

Ianto didn't know why, but he felt ridiculously pleased to find the stoneware piece intact and waiting for him. Silly thing. Jack technically didn't give it to him. It was lost in 1941 and Ianto bought it for himself. Somehow though, its non-traditional origins oddly reminded him of Jack.

After they had teleported back to Cardiff during the year that never was, Ianto had tried to come up to the surface and into the office but it had collapsed during the time they were away. Even the hatchway in the vaults area was too mangled to try to squeeze through. Owen had said it was stupid to try to salvage a bunch of outdated pamphlets and maps. Gwen said it was too risky; the Toclafane patrolled the Plass all day. So Ianto opted not to say anything but whenever he could, he'd tried to poke and move some of the debris away from the ladder but he was never able to climb up into his office again.

The hour at the pub was bittersweet; they all saw faces they had never known until Saxon. Most had died in the year that never was but were resurrected when the year was voided. It grew to be unnerving to be drinking in a room slowly filling with people who were previously dead. Afterwards, Owen and the others had gone straight for the invisible lift while Ianto opened up the office. The routine, after having not followed it for so long, felt alien. He stood by the pamphlets that weren't outdated anymore, by the fern that was no longer dead but still needed watering, holding the ceramic disk that had lost its mug mate decades ago with both hands. Ianto was a statue in front of his computer, clutching the pottery until Owen rang him up on the mobile, yowling that despite the year having been reversed, the coffee machine still didn't work.

Ianto heard them ring up the Valiant every few hours, talking to UNIT, sometimes to Jack. The number of people they needed to retrieve and debrief was staggering. Saxon had collected a huge personal army when he was minister and they were mixed in with the UNIT troops forced to work in exchange for their families' safety.

Each time Jack came on the phone, Owen or Tosh looked at Ianto questioningly but he would shake his head. Talking to Jack right now would only make things worse. For whom though, Ianto wasn't sure anymore.

Ianto slipped his hands under the shirt and felt the firm muscles tense and expand under his palms. Lips nibbled at his throat as fingers undo his flies and gingerly pull him out with humbling care and reverence.

"Yes," Ianto breathed as fingers squeezed him and pulled with long leisurely strokes. "Yes." Ianto pressed into the knowing grip as more fingers brushed tenderly at his entrance, silently seeking permission.

Ianto opened his mouth to a seeking one, sighed when he felt firm yet soft lips—always a contradiction—seal over his mouth. Ianto deepened his kiss…

And woke up.

His skin still felt flushed in the spots where he thought he could feel Jack’s touch. Ianto stared up at his ceiling to try and maintain the dream but already it was dissolving into the sleepy confusion of the awake.

Ianto muffled a sob into his pillow, curled around Jack's side of the bed and fell back asleep.

"You're being stupid, you know," Owen announced on the third day they were back. He stood by the gurney while Ianto buttoned up his shirt. True to his word, Owen was putting Ianto under every scanner and X-ray machine available to him. Then again, everyone else suffered the same attentions. Owen declared that they all needed physicals and dispensed vitamins like it was water to everyone. It would have been touching if it hadn't interrupted Ianto's hoover session in Jack's—no, it is just the main office now—office. God, the dust that had gathered there was deplorable.

"What have I apparently done this time?" Ianto sighed. Owen had already given him a lecture on not doing the physical therapy for his shoulder frequently enough.

"Ignoring his calls," Owen said around a generous bite of chocolate HobNob. "It's not going to make things easier, you know. You're just confusing the hell out of our Captain."

"I won't influence his decision," Ianto bit out as he did his cuffs. "Whatever Jack decides, it has to be of his own choosing, not stemming out of some sort of…gratitude." He glowered at Owen when he heard a loud munch. "At least use a napkin," Ianto snapped. Damn Gwen for indulging Owen. Did she really have to buy one of each flavor for him?

Owen made a face, crumbs and all, and popped the last morsel into his mouth.

"Gratitude?" Owen scoffed. "What makes you think Jack owes you anything? The sex wasn't that good, was it?"

"Owen!" Ianto growled as he was sprinkled with HobNob dust. He wasn't sure if that irked him or Owen's comment.

Owen rolled his eyes. He made a show of wiping his mouth with Ianto's tie before handing it to him.

Ianto made like he was going to strangle Owen with it. Harper was unimpressed.

The silk neckwear dropped to his lap. Ianto stared at the striped pattern and realized he had automatically put it on because it was Jack's favorite.

"Jack might feel a sense of duty to stay with me and the last thing I want is to let that make the decision for him." Ianto's face gave a little before he screwed it back to the one he had worn since their return.

"His life was taken out of his hands far too many times already." Ianto twisted the tie around his left hand. "Whatever he decides…I won't be the one to do it for him."

"All right," Owen conceded. "He might not have had a choice when he went with Saxon and whatever that bloody Master did, he didn't have a choice then either but with you? You and Jack shagging—"

"We weren't like that," Ianto interrupted because the description simply rankled him. "Jack and I. We weren't…like that."

To his surprise, Owen didn't retort or scoff or even laugh; he just nodded his head.

"Think that time he made his own choice there, mate."

Ianto bit his lip and ducked his head. Owen exhaled sharply.

"Cor, you two can drive a man to drink with all your dramatics," Owen groaned.

"What was your excuse before?" Ianto joked weakly. It earned him a scuff to the back of his head by a hand dusted with mocha HobNob crumbs.

Ianto sobered. "He waited so long, Owen. Back then, I didn't understand why he would for such a man but that was because it was Saxon, but this one…" Ianto idly swung his legs. The tie wrinkled and knotted in his hands.

"This man could take him to the stars. The things I think they must have seen before…I don't know how long his lifespan is but it has to be a lot longer than…" Ianto made a rueful smile, "…us mere mortals."

Owen was scribbling something on Ianto's medical file. He grunted.

"Didn't seem to bother Jack before to be with us mere mortals," Owen muttered as he scratched his pen against his chin.

But it did, Ianto thought with a pang. Jack always feared Ianto had been wasting his life with him, but in hindsight, Ianto wondered if it wasn't also for another reason.

"You seem to think for sure he'll decide to go with that ruddy police box," Owen observed, his lips pursed.

Ianto shrugged but there was a lump in his throat.

"Well, I still think you're an idiot." Owen gave him a slap to the back of Ianto's head that nearly unseated him off the gurney. "If you hadn't told the bloody Doctor to lie…" Owen shook his head, muttering.

"Think of how much he'll lose if he stays here with us instead," Ianto murmured. His shoulders slumped. "We'll all eventually leave him." Ianto worried the tie again. "It might be better if he did stay with the Doctor."

Owen stopped writing for a moment. He squinted at Ianto.

"Wasn't there some sort of nauseatingly sloppy saying about 'better to' whatever and 'lost' and shit like that?"

Ianto grimaced. "A little more eloquently put, but yes. I don't think—"

The pen wagged in front of him.

"That's your problem, mate. All you do is think." Owen scribbled something more. "Bloody irritating if you ask me." The pen clicked shut and Owen closed his file with a snap. "This kind of touchy feely shit isn't stuff that requires thinking. Doesn't work that way." He whacked the file on Ianto's knee.

"Now off. Cooper's next." Owen popped another HobNob in his mouth, this time a caramel one. It was disturbing, really, how much sugar the medic could consume.

Ianto made a show of sweeping crumbs off his lap and hopped off the gurney. He was halfway up the stairs when Owen stopped him.

"You're so worried about letting him make his own choice," Owen called out. "But doing nothing and ignoring him so he's got to make a decision—isn't this the same thing you're trying to prevent?"

Ianto stilled and gulped. Ianto twisted around, but Owen was already snapping off his gloves and getting a fresh set of syringes out. He stared at the back of Owen's head for a long time before he went back up the stairs. There was still cleaning to be done.

"I'm sorry," Ianto whispered as he arched into the hands slipping around his back. "I just wanted to make things easier for you."

Silent, the shadow merely pressed his face to Ianto's chest. Ianto hissed when he felt teeth grazing a nipple, laving it until it hardened.

"I want to ask you to stay," Ianto groaned as he thrust his throbbing erection against a strong thigh. He whimpered when a matching heat brushed against him in a sly, wordless challenge. Ianto growled as he curled his hands around broad shoulders and ground his hips against him. Ianto felt the body on him shake.

"I want to ask," Ianto whispered as he felt both their releases combine and cool on his belly. He reached up and stroked the cheek in front of him. Ianto moved to cup the back of the other's neck and pulled him in.

"But I need to do the right thing for you," Ianto murmured as he pulled the head towards him. Their lips met halfway and the exhale on his mouth beckoned.

"I'm sorry," Ianto whispered just as he kissed him. "I'm sor—"

His mobile rang and Ianto started. The bed was empty again but he forced himself to concentrate on locating his mobile instead.

"Ianto?" Gwen's sleepy voice woke him further. "Sorry, love, but Tosh was on the overnight shift and she just got a Weevil alert. I know it's late but could you meet Owen and I—"

"Ten minutes," Ianto said as steady as he could. He levered himself off the rumpled bed. He stood at the foot of his bed, his throat tight. Ianto closed his eyes and pivoted away.

"Oh, I wish I could have seen it," Tosh sighed on the fifth day. She sat back on the couch with her hands wrapped around her favorite mug. Her glasses were pulled back to rest on top of her head.

"Gwen said it was quite a show. Every single one of those Toclafane dropped." Tosh toed off her heels and stretched out her legs on the tiny coffee table in front of them. Unlike everyone else who always managed to kick up a mess, Tosh took very particular care her crossed ankles didn't upset the neat piles on the table.

"With the year undone, there'll be no readings either," Tosh mourned. "God, I would have loved to have sees even just a spark!"

Ianto sank back on the couch as well and remembered a time when Jack threw pizza crusts up in the air and their pterodactyl swooped in and ate them up. He could still remember those teeth snapping up the leftovers. He remembered how warm Jack was when he pressed against him, an automatic reflex to seek shelter and Jack had seemed, at the time, the most logical choice. Ianto smiled to himself. He'd always wondered if Jack had done it on purpose.

"Owen's right," Tosh suddenly said. She studied Ianto over the top of her mug.

"You are being an idiot."

Ianto swallowed back a sigh. "Tosh—"

"You should have seen him," Tosh cut him off. "When we thought Saxon had shot you. He absolutely flipped, Ianto. Nothing reached him. I…I'd never seen him like that before." Tosh hugged the mug to her chest and gave a shiver. "And when he saw you again…" She sniffled.

Tosh pulled up her right leg and nudged him with her foot.

"If you ask him to stay, he would, you know." Tosh smiled as she took a sip. "I think it's pretty clear by now how he feels about you. Vice versa, I'm sure."

Ianto felt a lump in his throat. It was hard to speak around so he just pulled his mug up to his lips.

"Ianto—"

"I know! I know if I ask, he'll probably stay. That's just the way Jack is…" Ianto stared into his mug. He had tried to make tea but it wasn't the same, he'd put in too much sugar and there was still a leaf floating like a twig in a pond on top.

"But?" Tosh prodded gently.

"But is he staying because I asked him or because he wants to?"

"Oh." Tosh waved off his concern. "Why wouldn't he want to? The Doctor—"

"Even when it was Saxon, Jack still waited and he would have kept waiting even if it took another hundred years!" Ianto bit his lower lip. His head dropped low to his chest. "Sorry. I-I didn't mean to snap. It's just…"

"I want him to stay," Ianto confessed, "but staying might not be the best thing for him."

"We're not that bad." Tosh paused. "Well…maybe Owen. He did shoot him, after all."

They shared a strained chuckle.

"He's calling for another update in an hour. He's been asking how you were doing," Tosh said quietly. "Does that sound like a man who doesn't want to stay?"

Ianto sank down into the couch. Tosh slipped back on her shoes, kissed the top of his head and went back to her computer when it began beeping. He sat there for a long time. When the phone rang an hour later, Ianto went to do a check on the vaults. He told himself, as he wandered the archives without a flashlight, that he wasn't hiding.

"You're right," Gwen said, later that night, as she read the reports Ianto had received from UNIT.

Startled, Ianto stared at the top of her head. "Pardon?"

"About Jack." Gwen made a face as she sorted through the pages. "I can't believe all these people joined voluntarily," she muttered as she held up one list to squint at it.

Ianto waited for as long as he could but when it looked like Gwen wasn't going to continue, Ianto asked slowly. "What about Jack?"

Gwen sighed and set the papers down on her workstation. Ianto was careful about which of Jack's usual paperwork to pass along, the ones Ianto knew Jack would have been comfortable with if he was here. Her desk simply wasn't built for the regular workload. Her own work was left in a dented carton, shoved under her feet.

"I know we've all been pushing you." Gwen shrugged. Gwen touched his left arm briefly. "Sorry. We should be more supportive. You're right. This is Jack's decision. If he wants to stay, he'll stay."

Ianto swallowed and forced a smile on his face. "Precisely."

"I mean," Gwen continued as she grimaced at one form, "if he stays because you asked, we wouldn't know if Jack was going to leave us again one day."

The smile faded. "Right," Ianto whispered, more to himself.

"Especially since…" Gwen heaved another sigh. "Jack was going to leave us anyway." She bit her lower lip, her eyes downcast. "He was just biding his time with us until the Doctor arrived."

Ianto couldn't form a response around the lump in his throat.

"Oh bollocks," Gwen swore as folders slipped off her desk one by one. "How does he deal with this everyday? Five different departments want five different versions of the same answer!"

Ianto bit back a smirk. It was close enough to what Jack used to bemoan about. "He usually just ignores them until they tire of asking. That's how we were never integrated into Archangel. Jack never signed off on it."

Gwen snorted. "Saved by administrative grace. Good to know for future reference." She made a face at the mess on the floor. "I thought Owen was joking when he said it was my turn to be in charge."

Ianto crouched down and picked up the folders. As he straightened, the office in the back caught his eye.

"You could…move desks if you want. It's…there's more room," Ianto nodded towards the back. He held the folders to his chest. After an initial straightening up, Ianto had not gone back inside since.

Gwen stared at the back office, at the generous mahogany desk. She averted her gaze to her station.

"Nah," Gwen replied in an overly bright voice. She began attacking her keyboard with a little too much enthusiasm. "We spent so much time in there that year, I'm a little bored of it, you know?"

"Of course," Ianto murmured as he set the stack at a spot behind her monitor.

"Besides…" Gwen slouched and pulled back her hands from her keyboard. "It would just feel too strange." The gap in her teeth flashed quickly. Almost immediately though, Gwen sobered and faced her keyboard again.

"Still feels like his office, you know?" Gwen shot Ianto a guilty look.

Ianto exhaled and dropped down in a chair next to her. "I know."

Gwen slipped her hand over his and squeezed.

It was becoming harder to sleep in his flat. Ianto woke again, his face still flushed from kisses and touches that he wished left marks on his skin but didn't. He lay on the bed, disturbed to find he was sleeping on one side, his favored side. It made looking to his left and the empty spot next to him all the more painful.

Ianto ended up on his couch by dawn, watching Star Wars over and over again until he fell back asleep. He dreamed about Jack standing on a sand dune against a setting sun.

On the seventh day of a year that should have past, a UNIT lieutenant came into the tourist office, saluted sharply to Ianto then curtly told him to sign on the X on his clipboard. He left Ianto with a poorly wrapped brown paper package that was tied with a piece of…shoelace?

Ianto sat back and stared at its contents. He closed his eyes briefly before he reached in and took the item and stroked it absently like it was a sleeping puppy. "You can't send this to me, Jack," Ianto murmured to himself. His eyes burned.

The leather band gleamed from its recent care, supple and warm. It felt sleek under his finger when he ran it across its surface. Ianto opened the device face and brushed a finger carefully across the buttons. Each one of them gleamed as if someone had polished each one. There was a piece of a yellow post-it over one button with an unhappy face on it, which Ianto could only assume was the equivalent of skull-and-crossbones on a medicine bottle.

Ianto held the wrist strap up to his nose and thought he could smell Jack's skin pressed into the leather. Slowly, Ianto wrapped the strap around his right arm and the weight felt like a familiar hand curled around him.

By the time he realized he was walking, Ianto was already in the lift, his right hand tucked securely in his suit pocket, his shoes tapping as the lift made its slow descent. His steps were hurried by the time he reached the cog doors.

"Is that the Valiant?" Ianto called as he neared Tosh, her index finger on her earpiece. Gwen and Owen were huddled over her and when they looked up with similar bleak expressions on their faces, Ianto halted in his tracks.

"Oh," Ianto mumbled. Suddenly, he felt foolish standing on the metal pathwaywith Jack's wrist strap on his arm. "W-when did it leave?"

"An hour ago," Tosh said, low as if she was afraid to raise her voice. "But Jack did tell us they were going to take the TARDIS into the vortex to make repairs if it took too long. When they're done, he'll…this doesn't mean anything."

"Course not," Owen declared loudly as he tugged at his lab coat and strode to Autopsy. "Doesn't mean a bloody thing. Oi, narco boy. Coffee?" Owen didn't wait for a reply. His feet stomped loudly down the metal steps.

Gwen's expression as she approached him made Ianto inwardly cringe. She looked like she wanted to cry but she was making a tremendous effort not to do so. It was the attempt that made it hard to look at.

"He found his Doctor, love," Gwen murmured as she drew Ianto into a hug. He didn't resist, his right hand still in his pocket, his eyes still on Tosh trying to dab her eyes dry without anyone noticing. "It's good."

"Yes," Ianto mumbled. His right hand curled slightly in his pocket.

"It is."

Act II
Week Two, Version Two

A routine, even if it was a reluctant one, eventually falls into place when it was repeated enough times. Get up, shower off the ghostly touches of Jack's kisses on his cock, dress, make breakfast then drive to the Plass. Make coffee, feed the Weevils, make pleasantries, go home, make dinner, dream. Repeat.

If done in enough repetitions, everything would eventually be completed without another thought. Automation got him through Lisa in the basement, when his family was torn apart when they lost one and all the things that served to upset Ianto Jones' world.

Routine was his way of survival in the past. Ianto hoped it would be what carried him through waking every morning tasting Jack's damp skin and the feeling of fullness when Jack entered him. There were places that ached that never ached before and Ianto wasn't sure how he was supposed to move on from that. It was mind-numbing routine that prevented him from realizing so many times that he'd put on the vortex manipulator again as he dressed. No one ever noticed though. If they did see it peeking out from his sleeve, no one ever said. Not saying anything became a routine as well.

Gwen stubbornly stayed by her workstation even if the space around her expanded with the boxes of files that surrounded her. Owen nearly broke his ankle tripping over a box of week old police reports, but he just kicked the box under her station with a savage look and stormed back into Autopsy. New routine there: Owen usually stayed in the medical bay unless another Rift alert rummaged him out of his hole.

It worked for a little over two weeks until Ianto caught Gwen and Tosh, their heads close together with a large white box sitting between them on Gwen's chair.

"I don't remember signing for that," Ianto mused as he set down their coffees from the shop above. The machine was still broken; it needed a part Ianto hadn't the heart to replace. It was left to idle in the kitchen area, a big, ornate machine of stainless steel and brass.

Gwen started and she stared up at Ianto with huge eyes.

"Oh," she stammered, "Coffee? Oh good. I wanted a cup."

Tosh's nose was already buried in her mug with a sudden thirst.

Ianto frowned. "What?" He tilted his head and considered the box. His brow knitted when he noticed the stamp branded on the box.

"The Valiant?"

Gwen's shoulders slumped.

"I went to get it when someone from UNIT called," Gwen admitted. She settled her hands on the box, her fingers twitching as if they wanted to drum on the surface. Ianto wanted to swat her hands.

"They could have just sent it to me," Ianto murmured, confused. "You didn't have to make the trip." At Gwen's nervous glance to Tosh, his gut clenched. "What is it?"

Gwen, despite Tosh's murmur of protest, opened the box lid.

"…Oh," Ianto muttered. He locked his knees to fight the urge to sit down. "I…I'd wondered where it had gone."

The dark blue greatcoat looked ill-placed folded and tucked securely into the box. Bloodstains still marred the lapels and the buttons dangled from threads that were slowly fraying.

"They found it in one of the private chambers," Gwen said quietly. Her hand settled on the collar and Ianto caught her giving it a pat before she closed the lid over the greatcoat. "They tracked down that it had belonged to…well, UNIT thought it best if it was returned to us."

Ianto's fingers rested lightly on the box.

"Well," he found himself saying quite calmly, "they were right. This should be archived in case…in case he comes back for it." Ianto smiled sadly at the box. "He was fond of this coat."

Tosh made a noise. "I could—"

"No. Archives is my department. Remember?" Ianto pulled the box out of Gwen's grip and tried not to hug the box to him. "It's all right," he told the girls' stricken faces. "I'll take care of Jac—it. I'll take care of it."

Ianto's knees shook as he forced himself to walk slowly as he brought it upstairs. But in the relative privacy of his office, the sign outside was flipped to "Closed" and Ianto held the greatcoat on his lap for hours, his fingers running lightly across the wool.

The buttons were far too stained and chipped so Ianto snipped them off their threads. He brought the greatcoat home, brushed the wool to break up the crusted stains of blood and other things Ianto didn't want to try to identify. Then, Ianto cleaned the fabric by scrubbing slow circles of suds over the soiled spots.

Done, Ianto hung it, button-less and smelling of wet wool and soap, outside his closet and he fell asleep staring at it silent and still on his wardrobe.

That night, he dreamt of Jack in a land of nothing but dust, no sky, no other living being around and his Jack, God, his beautiful, beautiful Jack was slumped facedown on the floor, abandoned once more and now completely stranded, his body slowly turning to stone.

The scream ripping out of his throat hurt when Ianto woke. He jerked out of sleep, gasping because of the vise around his chest. He could still taste the ash that was collecting in Jack's throat and his skin tingled with the increasing lack of circulation.

Jack's vortex manipulator sat on his nightstand like an accusation; left behind by its owner, a time traveling piece left to a man firmly anchored to Earth in the twenty first century. Jack's arm was empty of the one thing that had saved him before from a graveyard in space.

Ianto spent the rest of the night in the Hub, on the camp bed that still smelled like Jack, curled under the threadbare afghan and greatcoat.

Act III
Week Three, Version Two

The call was picked up on the fourth ring.

"Hello?" Francine answered with a yawn.

Ianto grimaced. Of course she was still asleep. Sleeping in the Hub took all sense of time away. He bit his lower lip. "Is…is this Mrs. Jones? Martha Jones' mother?"

"Who is this?" If anything, the voice chilled.

This was a bad idea. Ianto checked the Hub, but no one would be here for hours. He clutched the greatcoat to him like a blanket.

"I uh…M-my name is Ianto Jones. We haven't met formally but—"

"Ianto." Francine Jones' voice warmed several degrees. "Of course. Jack mentioned you quite often."

"Oh…" Ianto wasn't sure how to respond. "T-thank you."

"If you're looking for Martha," Mrs. Jones sniffed, "she isn't here. She's with that Doctor."

Ianto was sort of glad; it meant she was with Jack. Surely she would make certain that Jack wouldn't be left behind?

"I just…" Ianto fumbled. "I'm sorry to be calling this early. Sorry. I should have…I've woken you, haven't I?"

"It's all right. I haven't been able to sleep normal hours these days. A year of odd shifts and engine noise has changed the way I sleep." Martha's mother laughed, in a grating voice. "It changed a lot of things yet everything's still the same. Lord, I still can't understand it."

Ianto smiled sadly. He hugged the greatcoat to him. "Same here. I just…It's been three weeks. I…" Ianto sighed.

"Has it?" Mrs. Jones mused. "Has it really been three weeks? I've stop keeping track of time a long time ago." She paused. "How can I help you? I doubt you called at this hour just to chat."

Ianto idly picked at the threads where the buttons had been. "I was wondering if you have heard from them—from Martha?"

"No," Francine replied shortly. "Apparently in this wonderful police box, there's no telephone."

"Sorry," Ianto murmured.

"Has Jack returned yet?"

His mouth soured. "Not…not yet. I don't know if he will. Not in my lifetime at least. But I'm sure Martha will be back soon," Ianto added hastily.

Mrs. Jones didn't comment.

Ianto stroked a sleeve of the greatcoat and he rubbed the material between two fingers.

"Everyone keeps telling me they'll be back," Ianto said quietly. "I want to believe them but…"

"You're afraid of being disappointed," Mrs. Jones guessed.

"N-no. I-I just…" Ianto took a deep breath.

"I'm afraid if I believe them, then when it doesn't happen—I'm sorry. I just wanted to see if Martha was back yet. I wanted to talk to her."

"No." Martha's mother sounded decidedly unhappy. "Martha promised to be back soon. I've asked her many times not to go." There was a weary sigh by his ear. "There's not much to offer here but home. I pray it's enough. I can't give her the stars like he can."

Ianto swallowed. "At least you have that to offer her to return to. I don't," Ianto said but as soon as the words left his mouth, Ianto regretted them immediately.

Mrs. Jones was very quiet, to the point Ianto thought he had lost the connection.

"That's what you think," Mrs. Jones said with an audible smile in her voice. "Get some sleep, Ianto."

Ianto stared at his mobile after the click. He shuffled back down the hatchway. Ianto sat on the camp bed and stared at the vortex manipulator folded by the pillow. Ianto pulled the afghan over his shoulders and huddled into the greatcoat and drifted into yet another uneasy sleep dreaming about smooth skin and gentle touches.

Fingers danced through his hair. Ianto stared at the darkness and it took a few seconds before he remembered he was in the Hub and not at his flat. He blinked in the dark and at the shadow slowly clearing to a face he knew.

"Missed you," Ianto whispered, still fuzzy with sleep. He reached up and was gratified to feel warm skin under his arms.

"You're not home." The answering hushed voice sounded awed, curious.

Ianto pulled the solid form he thought he could feel until his mouth was breathing softly into an ear.

"Couldn't sleep there," Ianto murmured before he nibbled on a lobe. His arms drifted and he imagined muscle tensing against him, a spine curving when Ianto coaxed him to settle between his parted legs.

"Sh," Ianto soothed when he imagined tremors where he stroked. His palms rubbed across smooth skin, flawless and taut over muscle. Perhaps it was greedy, but he pulled the body in with his legs around the middle.

"I need to feel you in me," Ianto said softly as his fingers curled in the hem of cotton, a texture he knew so well.

"Hush," Ianto murmured as the body he had wrapped himself around trembled. Ianto pulled him in closer until there was no chance to slip away like a thought. "Please. It's been so long."

A head nodded against his jaw and the body against him calmed. The feel of silky skin made him weep inside as he peeled cotton off with a hurried hand. Skin vibrated where he touched.

Ianto turned his head slightly when the head dipped, the mouth seeking.

"Not yet," Ianto pleaded. His fingers hurried, buttons undone and popped in his haste. "Not yet."

The puzzlement was clear in the shy touches to his mouth, his face, but Ianto was too desperate to care. Ianto could feel time trickling away like an hourglass. His hands pushed fabric away, tugged the body lower and he groaned as he felt fingertips grazing his entrance.

Slicked, Ianto could only moan under his breath as something hot and throbbing inched slowly inside him and the trembling he felt before returned, only now it was from the strain of holding back. Ianto tightened his legs and drew the body close enough for his hands to card through sable soft hair.

There was no allowance for hesitation. Ianto urged the thrusts to deepen, arching into each stroke, his fingers digging into bunched muscle as he tried to get the deep and powerful full feeling inside his body to stay, leave a mark he could embrace the rest of his life.

"Harder," Ianto panted. "I need to…feel you…forever…"

The rhythm faltered but only for a tick because Ianto clawed the body even closer, met each jerk of hips with a demanding thrust of his own.

In the dark, where shadows only hinted at reality, Ianto came after he felt the cock inside him twitch and fill him with a wet heat Ianto knew no other soul could give him.

"Stay," Ianto sobbed as his body shuddered with yet another release. Hands cradled him as he thought he could feel himself falling. "God, please. Stay."

A kiss dotted the corner of his mouth. Arms wrapped around him with what Ianto knew were empty promises.

"For as long as you want me."

Ianto closed his eyes when he felt another kiss on his mouth. He parted his mouth, breathed when he felt the other open to accept his tongue. Sleep pulled insistently and Ianto sank into the embrace, his chest already aching for what he'd find when he woke.

Ianto was afraid to open his eyes as soon as awareness returned. He was cocooned with a warmth that was lingering longer than usual and his body physically ached like…

His eyes flew open.

There was something, someone snug against his back, legs tangled with his, one knee wedged in-between his. Oh God, did he get pissed last night and bring someone into the Hub?

Lips nibbled at the back of his neck.

"Too early," someone mumbled. "Go back to sleep."

Ianto sat up, his arms whipping out and striking something, a cheek or an ear, maybe an eye.

"Ow," a voice mumbled plaintively. "You weren't this rowdy in bed be—"

"Jack!" Ianto stared at the man lying curled on his side at the edge of the bed.

Jack raised his head, his hair a messy flop over his brow, a knuckle rubbing his insulted eye.

"Morning?" Jack mumbled. His eyebrow arched at Ianto.

"You're…" Ianto couldn't stop staring. "You're here."

Jack wrinkled his nose. "Uh yeah? I thought that was pretty clear last night when I found you sleeping in my bed. By the way, why aren't you in your—Ianto!" Jack yelped when Ianto lunged towards him.

Perhaps Ianto had been used to sleeping in the camp bed alone these days. Perhaps Jack was too close to the edge. Whatever it was, Ianto was sure it wasn't because he threw himself at Jack and engulfed him in a fierce hug…

And rolled them off the bed.

Jack grunted but he was snickering, his bare back on the floor, and Ianto straddled on top of him.

"Ow! Morning to you, too," Jack laughed. His hands framed Ianto's face to hold back the kisses peppering his throat. "Wait, wait, wait! Where was this last night?"

"Thought…" Ianto nipped an earlobe. "It…" He grazed his teeth down a damp line between Jack's pecs. "Was…another…" He laved the hollows of Jack's collarbone. "…dream."

"Wow, you dream like that every night? I—" Jack moaned as Ianto rubbed against him.

"You're really here," Ianto panted as he rocked his growing erection against Jack's stomach. He didn't care for how long or why. Ianto didn't care what he looked like with his hands running all over Jack's body. "Here in my bed."

"My bed," Jack pointed out as he brushed a palm over Ianto's hair, "and we're not in bed. You threw me out of it." Jack's laugh rumbled up Ianto's back. "I can't believe you threw me out of the bed!"

"Narrow bed. I told you. You should have—Jack!" Ianto shouted as Jack rolled them until Ianto was on the floor now. "Shit! The floor's cold!"

Jack grinned. He wiggled as he straddled Ianto and Ianto could feel the stickiness of last night drying on their bellies.

Jack chuckled when he caught Ianto's blush. He stroked the back of his hand over the warmth on Ianto's flushed cheeks.

"Only you can be that shy after practically demanding that I take off my clothes," Jack teased.

Ianto paled. He could still remember the quivering as he practically manhandled Jack. "Oh God…"

"I'm fine," Jack assured Ianto. He dipped his head. Jack nuzzled a spot on Ianto's throat. Muscle rippled as Jack arched into Ianto's hands curled on his lower back.

"I'm sorry," Ianto murmured, but a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth when he could feel a rumbling in Jack's chest as his hands rubbed Jack up and down his sides.

"It had been so long," Ianto confessed. He sighed deeply when Jack settled his entire naked length across him. The cold concrete floor was now forgotten.

"It was the longest three weeks," Ianto whispered. He looked in wonder at the smooth expanse of skin before him, the long legs, the blue eyes that widened.

"Three weeks?" Jack repeated.

Ianto frowned as a thought occurred. "Hang on. How did you get here? You said you didn't find me at home so you were…"

Jack chuckled nervously. He pulled up, propping himself above Ianto with an elbow on either side of Ianto's head. "Ah…yeah. Sorry about your living room. The TARDIS is still a bit shaky with her landings."

Ianto stared. "My…my living room?" Ianto echoed blankly. "The TARDIS?" How did a police box fit in there?

"I tried to find all the magazines that flew off but I think she landed on top of them and the coffee table and…"

"My coffee table?" Ianto mumbled.

Jack fidgeted and the brushing of soft genitals against him momentarily distracted Ianto.

"Wait," Ianto said slowly as sense returned. "If you came by the TARDIS, that means—"

"Teabags!" A head popped into view in the hatchway. "They use teabags! Jack, haven't you taught them anything…" Brown eyes blinked.

"Blimey, Jack. You don't waste any time, do you?"

"Doctor," Ianto greeted weakly. The concrete floor was very cold against his buttocks again.

Jack sat up before Ianto could pull him down to shield himself.

"Three weeks," Jack huffed.

"Pardon?" The Doctor stared at Jack, baffled and it irked Ianto that he didn't seem shocked by Jack's nakedness.

"It's been three weeks for them," Jack complained. He twisted around and Ianto grabbed the afghan off the camp bed and tried to cover up what he could of his…dignity.

The Doctor blinked. His eyes widened. "Ah."

"You are in so much trouble when Martha finds out how long it's really been," Jack warned.

"Um…Jack?" Ianto spoke up meekly.

"You said you were going to try for three days!"

"Excuse me," Ianto tried again. Jack kept wiggling to twist around to talk to the Doctor, which didn't help. Ianto was caught in the crossroads of grinding his hips against Jack and wanting to hide under the afghan.

"She's still wobbly. Be grateful it wasn't three years!"

"Oh, is that supposed to make me feel better?" Jack turned back, his hands waving helplessly in the air.

"Ianto, I swear. The Doctor tried to get us back to your timeline in three days, not—"

"Jack," the Doctor spoke up, his face thoughtful. "Maybe you want to get dressed before you finish your apology? Young Torchwood there looks cold."

Ianto blinked up at the Time Lord. He bristled when he realized where the Doctor was looking.

"Out!" Ianto shouted and even Jack scrambled off him. Ianto wrapped the afghan tighter around himself. "Out! Have you no decency, sir?"

"Really, Torchwood. It's nothing to be upset about. It's perfect normal. Cold tends to shrink the human male—"

A perfectly aimed pillow halted whatever the Doctor was going to say.

Ianto scowled as he padded barefoot across the Hub’s main room in his trousers and shirt left open. He was torn between being exasperated over the mess of paper all over the floor and smiling fondly at the blue police box huddled close to the water sculpture. He thought he heard the TARDIS purr as he walked by.

"What are you doing?" Ianto exclaimed. His steps quickened when he realized the Doctor was hunched over the coffee machine. The Doctor was pointing his screwdriver at the brewer.

"Done!" the Doctor announced. "Shouldn't cause anymore problems now." He straightened with a broad grin.

Ianto narrowed his eyes. "You fixed it?"

The Doctor looked affronted. "Of course!"

It was tempting to go around the Doctor to see for himself but Ianto eyed the screwdriver he held warily and decided against it.

"It really was supposed to be three days."

Ianto peered up and it occurred to him the Doctor had never looked so…old before; aged eyes on a youthful face. His stomach churned.

"Oh." Ianto lowered his gaze from the unsettling sight. He swiped his tongue across his lower lip. "Where's Martha?"

"Home. With her family." The Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets. "Jack's right. She's not going to be happy when she finds out how long it has been for her family."

"I think Francine will just be grateful she's back," Ianto murmured. He grimaced and shot the Doctor a look.

The Time Lord smiled wearily. He nodded.

"How are you?" Ianto asked after some hesitation. It made him uneasy that it seemed like the suit still hung loosely on the Time Lord like Jack's shirt did when Jack had dressed.

"Me?" The Doctor's brow rose. "Good. Good. Not as muzzy as before but time is still blurry for me, but it'll get better." The Doctor glanced past Ianto's shoulder to the office. "As will Jack."

Ianto swallowed. He nodded. "Everything's completely reversed. No one remembers. Before, every single one of these people knew your name."

The Doctor grimaced. "Good."

"After everything you've done, everything Jack and Martha—"

"I don't need people to know my name," the Doctor interrupted. He grinned wolfishly. "I work better in anonymity. Everyone knows who I am and they all scramble to make me a god. I don't work well as a god. I don't give days off."

What frightened Ianto was that he suspected the Doctor was serious.

The Doctor's smile faded. "Do not hurt him, Ianto Jones."

Ianto bit his lower lip. "I…but…" Ianto's shoulders slumped. "Eventually, I will hurt him when I die and leave him." Ianto pulled his shirt shut, suddenly cold.

A hand settled on his shoulder and Ianto gazed up at warm brown eyes. He couldn't look away.

"Not for a very, very, very long time," the Doctor said. "Make sure he's never alone again. Teach him that." The Doctor sighed and even his hair seemed to deflate. "I can't."

Ianto stared at the Doctor. He nodded mutely.

The Time Lord's eyes crinkled and within a blink, the Doctor's face changed. The switch took Ianto aback.

"Now, answer me this." The Doctor pointed to a box on the counter. "Teabags?"

"They make decent tea," Ianto protested. "It tastes exactly the same if you do it properly."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. He grumbled to himself as he moved things around on the counter, pointedly ignoring Ianto's glower. After finding a clean mug—although to Ianto's ire, the Time Lord did sniff it first—the Doctor set it below the dispenser and tapped at the toggle.

"Here."

Ianto edged back from the steaming cup thrust into his face. "What is it?" Ianto asked as he took the cup and peeked at the light caramel color liquid.

"Just drink it," the Doctor insisted.

A tentative sip invited the taste of floral richness and a subtle roasted tang to his tongue. Ceylon, Ianto realized as he took another sip before his eyes widened and he spit it out.

"Too hot?"

"This…" Ianto sputtered. "This is tea!"

The Doctor beamed. He patted the machine. "It'll make the perfect cup each time now."

"That's supposed to be a coffee maker!"

"Oops…"

To Jack's amusement, the Doctor sighed in relief when he peered around the coffee maker to see who was approaching.

"You," Jack teased, "committed a cardinal sin when you tampered with his machine." Jack stroked the TARDIS as he went by and the wood rumbled in acknowledgement. He leaned against the counter as he pulled his braces over his shoulders. It was ridiculous, Jack mused. Why bother getting dressed when he was planning to take them off soon?

"And I thought a Texkoratika was scary," the Doctor grumbled as he pushed up his glasses when they slid down his nose. He tapped his screwdriver to the brewer. "A decaffeinated human is very frightening to behold. A Dalek would flee."

The Doctor knocked the large percolator with a knuckle. "A coffee maker. Bah. What a waste of perfectly good metal, although the alloy isn't perfect." The Doctor paused at Jack's expression.

"What?"

Jack shrugged. He scratched his jaw with a finger and looked down at his socks. "Nothing. Just…good to hear you babbling again."

"I don't babble," the Doctor exclaimed. He pulled off his spectacles and shook them at Jack. "I dispense perfectly useful information."

"Babble," Jack drawled.

The Doctor grunted and stuck his nose towards the coffee maker again.

Jack stood there, his arms folded across his chest and thought about how stifling it had been in the central chamber of the TARDIS all those weeks. There were days Jack couldn't even look at the Doctor. Thank God Martha always made a point to be there with them, even if it was just to talk while the two worked. Between Martha and the clangs and bangs of repair, there were days when Jack forgot about the Master.

"You're going to be okay?" Jack asked quietly. The TARDIS was going to be a lot quieter now.

The tinkering stilled.

"Yeah," the Doctor grunted and the metallic clanging started up again before it paused again.

"You?"

Jack took a deep breath. "Gotta be. I…I had plenty of time to think this past year, the Year That Never Was." Jack gazed around the Hub with a faint smile.

"And I kept thinking about that team of mine." Jack exhaled. "Like you said, Doctor, responsibility.

The Doctor's head popped back out from behind the machine with a wide smile, his eyes warm.

"Defending the Earth. Can't argue with that." The Doctor's grin softened.

"You have a good team here, Jack."

Jack's breath caught. Speechless, he could only bob his head.

"That Ianto Jones fellow is good," the Doctor said. He shrugged before adding, "For an overly caffeinated ape."

Jack burst out laughing. "I'll tell him you said that."

The Doctor sniffed. "He doesn't scare me."

"So why are you fixing that thing for him?"

The Doctor harrumphed and the banging sounded louder now.

Jack studied the top of the Time Lord's head, his throat tight.

"Ianto's good for me," Jack said softly. His eyes burned. "I…I’ve never met anyone like him. I just want to spend as much time as he has even if it isn't…forever."

The noise behind the coffee maker stopped completely. The Doctor moved away from the counter to Jack. He gingerly settled his hands on Jack's arms, having learned the hard way by a broken nose not to startle Jack these days.

"There's all sorts of forever," the Doctor said softly. "Don't waste time grieving the future. You end up losing the present."

Jack nodded. He reached over and clasped the Doctor's wrists and felt the double beats thumping in a reassuring pace in the thin wrists.

"Ah." The Doctor's eyes lit up when he spied what was peeking out of Jack's sleeve. "Your vortex manipulator."

Jack grinned as he lifted up his arm. "I have to admit. I did miss having it on my wrist. I—Hey, I need that!

The Doctor captured his wrist in a careful but loose grip. "I can't have you walking around with a time-traveling teleport," the Doctor muttered as he pointed his sonic screwdriver at the controls. "You could go anywhere—twice." The Doctor looked up at him with pursed lips but his eyes twinkled. "The second time to apologize."

Damn. Jack didn't say it out loud, but the Doctor did have a point. He stared at the screwdriver's glowing tip while the wrist strap's controls dulled.

"And what about me?" Jack asked, subdued. "Can you fix that? Will I ever be able to die?"

The screwdriver dimmed and the Doctor sighed as he pulled away. Jack fought the instinct to snatch his arm back and dropped it to his side instead.

"Nothing I can do." The Doctor smiled tiredly at him. "We tried everything, remember? You're an impossible thing, Jack."

The smile hurt on his face. "Been called that before."

The Doctor chuckled, but it died too quickly.

The weary brown eyes were too much. Jack cracked a wider smile.

"But I keep wondering…what about aging? ‘Cause I can't die but I keep getting older." Jack gestured towards his hair. "The odd little grey hair, you know?" Jack wished he were only pretending when he shivered. "What happens if I live for a million years?"

The eyes seemed to shadow further. "I'm sorry. I really don't know."

All right. So not working. Jack laughed awkwardly.

"Okay, vanity. Sorry." Jack shrugged. "Yeah, can't help it." Jack spread his arms wide and looked down at himself. He winked at the Time Lord. "Used to be a poster boy when I was a kid back on the Boeshane Peninsula."

Jack was heartened to hear a chuckle.

"Really?" The Doctor's mouth quirked. "Boeshane?"

Jack nodded. "Tiny little place. I was the first one ever to be signed up for the Time Agency."

"They must have been proud," the Doctor murmured, his smile broader now.

Well, the citizens of Boeshane were, at least. Jack winked again. "That's for sure. The Face of Boe they called me. I used to—Doctor?"

For some reason, the Doctor blanched.

"Oh," the Doctor stammered. "I-I see." The Doctor studied Jack with a scrutiny that knotted Jack's gut.

"What is it?" Jack's skin prickled. He didn't like that look. That was the look of 'start running' as Rose used to call it.

"Ripples," the Doctor muttered. He seemed to be slipping deeper into himself. "Ripples indeed…"

"What?"

Jack's voice snapped the Doctor to the present. "Hm? Oh, nothing, nothing. The universe will sort itself out."

"Uh…sort what out?" Jack hedged.

The Doctor would only shake his head. "No need to worry about it. Better for you at least. The rest will balance."

"You always talk in riddles," Jack grumbled. "Just like Ianto."

The Doctor snapped his fingers suddenly. "Ah! Before I forget!"

Jack blinked when the Doctor pulled out an almost cobweb thin silver chain out of his suit pocket. At the end of the loop, hung a TARDIS key.

"Korevite metal," the Doctor said as he draped the necklace over Jack's head.

Jack touched the key sitting at the center of his chest.

"Feels warm," Jack said to himself.

"Most durable alloy in three galaxies. Virtually indestructible, seamless clasp," the Doctor explained. "It'll extend a stasis field around everything it carries. It can't be torn off, cut and short of a temperature of three suns, it won't ever melt."

Jack stared at the Doctor. "That detour you wanted to make," Jack remembered, "On our way back."

The smile given to him reminded him of his father.

"I promised I would return this key to you," the Doctor murmured. "No more hiding your key in a boot. No one will ever take this away from you."

The key blurred as Jack held it up from the chain but before he could say anything, the Doctor surprised him again when he gently pulled Jack into his arms.

"I once heard," the Doctor murmured, "that I was worth fighting for." There was a light kiss to the top of his head.

"You are worth fighting for, Jack. There are so many people who think so. Don't ever forget that."

Jack wrapped his arms around the Doctor. He pressed his face to the Doctor's chest.

"Thank you," Jack whispered to the double hearts beating underneath him.

"You don't have to do this."

Ianto smiled to himself as he finished buttoning Jack's cuffs. "I want to."

"Like I said before, I didn't hire you as a butler."

"You need one," Ianto countered as he reached over and fixed the shirt, "you missed one again."

Jack sat patiently on the edge of the bed as Ianto corrected the buttons.

"Why can't I wear my coat again?"

"Because I snipped off all the buttons."

"Oh." Jack digested this. "And you snipped off all the buttons because…"

Ianto bit back a snicker as he tugged the braces over Jack's shoulders.

"I thought we were coming back in three days," Jack offered. He fidgeted on the bed. "I am sorry, you know I'm sorry, right? That…that wasn't why you cut off all the buttons right?"

Ianto clamped his mouth shut to prevent the laughter from escaping. He felt almost giddy standing over Jack. The impulse to just sod it and tumble back into bed with Jack was overwhelming.

"And the Doctor fixed the coffee machine," Jack added.

"Quiet," Ianto told him in a stern voice. Luckily, Jack's quarters were too dark for Jack to see his smirk.

Ianto turned around to finish dressing himself.

"And you needed a new shirt," Jack was still trying. "How was I supposed to know you didn't have a spare? I didn't mean to come all over it."

Ianto blushed furiously as he tucked the shirttails into his trousers.

"I think it looks nice," Jack offered.

"It's pink," Ianto grumbled to Jack over his shoulder.

"I bought it a while back. I was going to give it to you." Jack sounded almost contrite. Almost. "I placed it in the back of the closet, it's the only shirt in there in your size. Hey, I said you could wear one of mine."

"Oh, as if that isn't obvious," Ianto muttered as he knotted his tie in the dark.

"Uh, I think it's pretty clear by now about us."

Ianto threw up his arms. "There. Done. I'm in a pink shirt. Happy?"

Jack sat back on the camp bed with a crooked smile.

"Your sincerity would be more convincing if you didn't look so smug," Ianto warned.

The smile flipped into a pout.

"Well, I still think it looks nice," Jack huffed under his breath.

And it surprisingly did, but Ianto refused to say it as he slipped on his jacket. He froze when he heard the alarms.

"The others," Jack said, suddenly tense.

"The others," Ianto agreed. He tweaked his tie. "Ready?"

"Not really." Nevertheless, Jack followed him up the ladder.

"…not picking that up!" Owen was announcing. "It wasn't like this when I left yesterday."

"Well it wasn't me," Gwen argued. "Look at this! God, I just sorted all this. Will someone come and please just take over?"

"That's it? I was hoping for a little power struggle, resolved by some naked wrestling," Jack spoke up as he stepped out of the office.

The collective reactions were comical. Ianto even forgave the coffee cup that dropped out of Owen's hand, halfway to his mouth.

"Jack?" Tosh breathed, her eyes huge.

Ianto could see Jack's shoulders stiffen as he lifted up a hand.

"Hello?" Jack said tentatively. He grunted and staggered back when both Gwen and Tosh tackled him. Ianto winced when the two began throwing far too many questions at Jack. Jack looked a little dazed at the excited, verbal rapid-fire interjections.

Ianto edged around to lean against the railing by the medical bay because he didn't think he could reach the couch.

The surprise on Jack's face hurt to see, almost as much as the minute flinches Jack tried to hide when a caress touched a memory he wouldn't share. But Jack was here. Ianto's mind still reeled.

"So," Owen drawled as he sidled up next to Ianto. "He came back."

Ianto glanced over at Owen. He shrugged and chuckled awkwardly. "Yes, I uh, I suppose he did."

Owen studied Ianto for a long moment.

"What?"

Owen smirked. "Nice shirt, mate."

Ianto bristled but before he could box Owen in the nose, Owen cleared his throat.

"Where's the Doctor?" Owen rubbed his hands together and grinned with full teeth. "Time for a medical exam."

Jack pulled back from the girls and glared at Owen. "He went to London. He dropped off Martha there this morning. He's probably avoiding a potential dissection, too."

"Damn it," Owen scowled. He narrowed his eyes at Jack.

"They don't have food in that ruddy police box?" Owen said gruffly, "I think a medical exam is still in order."

Ianto turned back to Jack with renewed scrutiny. He silently agreed with Owen's assessment.

"Aw, Owen. You care. You really do." Jack approached Owen with wide-open arms. "Come here, you!"

"Get away, Harkness!" Owen flapped his hands towards Jack like he was a fly. "I know I'm irresistible but learn to control yourself!"

"Jack." Gwen called. "Did he fix you?

Ianto grimaced. Owen muttered under his breath. Tosh winced.

The smile was too slow to react to Gwen's question. "What's to fix? You don't mess with this level of perfection."

Gwen laughed awkwardly, suddenly looking like she wished she had never asked.

"Martha's back then?" Tosh asked quickly.

Jack looked relieved at the question. "She's with her family. The Doctor went to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" Ianto blurted out.

Jack's smile dimmed. "He…The Doctor is pretty sure Martha would want to stay with her family. They've been through a lot."

"Are…" Ianto gulped. "Are you going back to him then?"

Jack turned to Ianto, his gaze intense. His mouth curved into a soft smile.

"I came back for you," Jack murmured as he walked up to Ianto.

Ianto blinked at Jack as hands came up to his face.

"Oh," Ianto stammered, "t-that's nice. I-I…"

Whatever he was going to say was swallowed by Jack's mouth sealed over his. His shoulders, which had tensed on contact, relaxed. Ianto settled his hands on Jack's hips and his tongue slipped in greedily to swipe the inside of Jack's mouth.

Ianto forgot they weren't alone until Owen cleared his throat again.

"Eh…you mean all of us, right, Captain?"

"Owen!" Gwen hissed.

"Oi, I just wanted some clarification!"

Ianto and Jack parted and Ianto fuzzily realized that Jack didn't step away as he answered Owen. The voices sailed over him, but all Ianto could think about was the feel of Jack sturdy and solid against him.

A high-pitched sound began to tear his attention away.

"I have a police report coming in!" Gwen was saying as her computer began to beep. "CRIMINT says a sports car was stolen by a…" She muttered under her breath and typed something to get CCTV up. "…This."

Owen and Tosh squinted. "Is…is that a fish?" Tosh exclaimed.

"Oh." Jack rolled his eyes. "That's a blowfish. They are so annoying. Nothing but booze and—What?"

Everyone stared at Jack.

"A blowfish?" Ianto managed.

"A blowfish…" Owen said slowly, "driving a sports car." A huge grin bloomed on his face.

"I'm driving!" Owen hollered and he bolted for the cog doors.

"What? No, Owen!" Gwen exasperated as she pivoted around to go after him. "Not after last time—Welcome back, Jack," Gwen added hastily before she took off. "Owen! Wait! Come back here!"

"Oh, here we go again," Tosh muttered. "Glad you're back, Jack. Now come on. Owen!"

Before Ianto could follow, Jack grabbed his wrist and pulled him back against him.

"I really did come back for you," Jack murmured as he brushed his lips across Ianto's brow. "I wanted the chance to be able to tell you that I…" Jack kissed him softly on the mouth.

"I can wait," Ianto told Jack. "For as long as it takes you, as long as you know how I feel, whether you ever say it or not."

"I will." Jack buried his face into Ianto's throat and breathed deep. "I…just…I need time. I…"

"Whatever you need, cariad," Ianto whispered into Jack's hair.

Jack chuckled thickly. "Did you just call me a perverted old man, again?"

"Yup."

Jack sniffed and he drew Ianto closer. "Why don't we let them chase the carjacking seafood by themselves?"

Oh, it was tempting. Ianto hummed as he felt Jack's mouth on his ear. Ianto mumbled as he carded his hand through Jack's hair. It was just a blowfish. Surely three people would be enough?

"Because," Ianto said breathlessly, "the last time Owen drove, he nearly hit some kids and his response was 'if kids are out at midnight, they've got it coming.'"

Jack stilled. "Owen said that?"

To Ianto's dismay, Jack pulled away. "Come on, let's take the invisible lift. We'll catch up with them there."

Ianto was about to protest when Jack took his right hand and clutched it tight.

"Ready?" Jack said over his shoulder as he dragged Ianto towards the concrete slab.

Ianto stared at his back then at the hand curled firmly around his wrist. He followed, simply because it didn't make sense not to. This was his life now, ever since Jack walked out of the TARDIS long ago. And Jack came back to him and completed that life.

Ianto tightened his grip on Jack's hand.

"I'm ready," Ianto answered as he quickened his step. Soon, his stride matched Jack's as they stepped onto the lift and rose to the surface to greet the new day together.

The End (for now)