soera

A/N: Oh gosh, sorry about the delay with getting this one out. RL's been tough - thesis is due in a few days and I've been kind of frantic with revisions etc. FYI, I may not be able to respond to your comments, but don't let that stop you from leaving them; they keep me sane!
I schmooped all over the first half of this chapter and beat the second half with the angst stick. Fair warning.

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Nine
Part Ten

Oddly enough, the rest of the day was rather uneventful. Ianto had been half expecting some kind of hostile alien to decide it was a good day to destroy the Earth, but nothing of the sort had happened. There was a Weevil sighting, but Jack had sent Owen and Gwen out to deal with it.

By the time they got back, sopping wet from running through the rain, Tosh had already diverted the alarms to Jack’s wristband and the three of them were ready to leave. They helped secure their disgruntled new visitor while Gwen and Owen got dried off, and then they all left together.

Neither Gwen nor Owen thought to ask why Tosh and Ianto left together in Tosh’s car, or why Jack had left at all, when he usually stayed behind. It was probably easier that way, Ianto decided.

Tosh waited outside the shop while Ianto ran in for the ice-cream, but even with that detour, they were at his flat in minutes. Jack showed up half an hour later with Indian take-away, and they fell to with gusto while they argued over which movie to watch first. Spirited Away won the vote in the end, followed by Amélie, then Run Lola Run.

“Reminds me of being with the Doctor,” Jack commented, mid-way through the third movie. He hadn’t been paying much attention to the movies (evidently, he hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he wasn’t really interested in them), and had been distracting himself by playing with Ianto’s hair/foot/hand/appendage of choice instead. This movie, apparently, had intrigued him, and now Ianto knew why.

“What, running?” Ianto asked. Tosh had perked up at the mention of the Doctor – or perked up as much as her completely stuffed, vaguely comatose state allowed her to, at any rate.

“Lots of running,” Jack confirmed. “Oops, angry villager, run! Oops, didn’t mean to insult your leader, run! Oops, we’re not magic gods come down from heaven, run!”

“Ever been sacrificed to a pagan god?” Ianto asked interestedly.

“… No,” Jack replied, looking suspiciously at Ianto.

“Would’ve been educational, I expect,” Ianto commented idly, pretending not to notice the way Jack was inching away from him. Tosh muffled a giggle.

“I’ll refrain,” Jack said.

“You don’t want to be a sacrifice to Ueuecoyotl?” Ianto asked in disappointment. “How about being an acolyte then?”

“I’ve never even heard of that god!” Jack protested.

“I’m sure you’d like it,” Ianto said. “Say you’ll do it, go on.”

Jack responded by attempting, very unsuccessfully, to hide behind the couch cushion. Tosh was looking at Ianto warily now.

“I have a feeling this is going to be even more hilarious when I find out what this god is supposed to represent,” she said slowly. Ianto beckoned her closer and whispered into her ear. Jack peeked around the cushion just in time to see Tosh go red, then burst into laughter.

“What, what?” he demanded, lowering the cushion.

“You don’t want to be an acolyte, so you don’t get to know,” Ianto intoned solemnly, sending Tosh into fresh paroxysms. Jack pouted and Ianto threw a cushion at him, then sprawled sideways, laying his head on Jack’s lap. “Hush – look, they’re redoing the sequence again.”

It was just past midnight by the time Tosh left, hugging both Ianto and Jack goodnight. Jack shut the door behind her and immediately pushed Ianto up against the wall, claiming his mouth in a hard, dominating kiss.

“Been wanting to do that all day,” he growled when he finally pulled away.

“Mm?” Ianto said eloquently, and pulled Jack back into another kiss. Jack cupped the back of Ianto’s neck, holding him close for long minutes as he re-mapped familiar territory.

“Bedroom,” Jack said once they’d broken apart. Ianto was distantly thankful that he’d already cleared the remains of the food, because there was no way he was stopping to do tidying now.

Once at his bedroom though, Jack stopped in the doorway. Ianto was almost by the bed before he realised that Jack hadn’t followed him in. He turned, a question on his lips, and found himself speechless at the look in Jack’s eyes.

“Undress,” Jack ordered, and Ianto automatically began to unbutton his shirt, trying to believe what it was he – he thought – he’d seen –

You did, Jack’s mind whispered. It is. I do.

Ianto pulled off the shirt, tossed it aside, and unbuckled his belt. That went flying too, and then his trousers and underwear, leaving him completely naked in front of a fully-dressed Jack. It didn’t feel awkward at all.

“You’re beautiful,” Jack told him, finally stepping forward. He caught Ianto by the arms and tugged him in for a brief, sweet kiss. “And stop that – stop thinking you’re not.”

Ianto blushed faintly. The reflex thought that had popped up in response to Jack’s words evidently hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“I will tell you this every day of your life until you believe it,” Jack said firmly. “So you might as well save yourself the bother.” He kissed Ianto’s jaw, then his neck, lips skimming the stubbled skin. He worked his suspenders off his shoulders and started unbuttoning his shirt one-handed as he nuzzled Ianto’s neck. “You are beautiful.”

He got rid of his shirt, snapped his belt open and unzipped his trousers just enough for some relief. A trace amount of annoyance filtered through from Ianto’s mind, and he smiled and obligingly took off his undershirt as well before gently pushing Ianto onto the bed.

“See, this?” Jack said, leaning over Ianto and tapping the side of Ianto’s face. “Did you know your left eye’s just a tiny bit crooked to the side?” He kissed the corner of said eye, then teasingly nipped the arch of Ianto’s cheek.

“Then your nose, all upturned and pert and cute,” he laughed. “And do I even need to tell you how much I adore these lips? They’re very pink. I don’t think I’ve seen many people with such pink lips. Unless, you know, they were wearing lipstick.”

“You’re going to make another list, aren’t you,” Ianto said in resignation.

“What, you think you’re the only person who does that?” Jack asked archly. “Did I mention the colour of your eyes? Don’t know if you ever noticed me staring, but I do.”

“I would call you a stalker, but I don’t think I’m in a position to criticise,” Ianto said.

“Considering how you got the job,” Jack agreed. He traced a finger down Ianto’s chest. “Now, this one was a surprise to me. You know, I actually thought you’d be nice and smooth under those suits?”

Ianto glanced down at his distinctly hairy chest. “Not quite,” he said.

“Nope,” Jack allowed. “And for some reason, it works.” He shook his head as he toyed with a nipple. Ianto’s eyes slowly glazed over.

“Focus,” Jack admonished, tweaking the nipple and getting a yelp from Ianto. “Where were we? Right, this.” He lifted Ianto’s arm carefully and pointed out the thin scar that ran across it. “What happened here?” He licked the scar from end to end without waiting for an answer.

Ianto shivered in pleasure under him. “Ah – broke it when I was a kid,” he said. “Bad break, that.”

Jack patted his arm. “Not a lucky arm,” he said. “Broken twice now, and what else?”

“Janet, Myfanwy, cannibals, rogue Weevil,” Ianto listed as Jack pointed at each scar in turn. Jack shrugged and kissed the scar Myfanwy had left.

“Yep, not a lucky arm,” he reiterated, then gave Ianto an impish look. “I count myself a lucky guy, though.”

So do I, Ianto told him, and got a very enthusiastic kiss in response.

“Know what else?” Jack asked conversationally, levering himself off the bed. He kicked off his trousers and underwear unconcernedly and stood there, eyeing Ianto. “Your colour. Always gets me.”

Ianto flushed, and Jack pointed triumphantly. “That! God, when you first joined? Do you know how long I spent fantasising about how far down the red went? Don’t get me wrong, you look amazing in suits, but I really wanted to get you out of them.”

“Why, thank you,” Ianto said, staring intently at the ceiling. “Always good to know.”

“Yep,” Jack agreed. “And this.” He placed a hand over Ianto’s hip, the bone jutting out just slightly as Ianto lay down. Jack lay back with him, propping up his head on one hand and looking at Ianto. “Fits perfectly. As you do.” His hand travelled down a little and Ianto closed his eyes.

“Could we maybe…” Ianto’s voice trailed off and he wiggled slightly in discomfort.

“If you admit it,” Jack said, a laugh in his voice.

“But I’m not,” Ianto pouted, glancing up at Jack. The wealth of emotion in Jack’s eyes frankly took his breath away for a moment.

“Yes, you are,” Jack insisted, kissing the tip of Ianto’s nose. “Every part of you. You’re beautiful.”

“You really think that,” Ianto whispered, staring at Jack in bewilderment. In response, Jack tugged Ianto’s mind closer, letting him sense Jack’s feelings. Ianto couldn’t feel any deceit, even the kind associated with white lies. The corners of Jack’s eyes crinkled in a smile as Ianto gaped.

Yep, Jack told him. I really think that. You’re my beautiful Ianto.

I’m yours, Ianto agreed immediately, still somewhat dazed at realising just how Jack saw him. Jack, you…

Yep. Move in with me?

Ianto blinked. What?

Move in with me, Jack repeated, and this time Ianto could pick up the traces of uncertainty and longing. I know it’s not much, living in the Hub, but it’s not too bad, right? It’s just, I think it’s easier living there than here, because it’s okay leaving the Hub unmanned for a day or two but constantly, not so much, and if you want we could always make the bedroom bigger or something, add on to it or –

Yes. Ianto interrupted.

What? Jack asked, thrown.

Yes, Ianto replied. I’ll move in with you. I only need to give a month’s notice anyway. You’ll have to help me move my things, mind.

“Oh,” Jack said. “Oh. Okay.”

Ianto tugged on Jack’s arm, forcing him to roll over onto Ianto, then pulled him into a deep kiss. The moment they broke apart, Jack pushed away, getting to his knees before scooping Ianto up.

“Whoa!” Ianto yelped, clutching instinctively at Jack’s neck as Jack repositioned them. “Warn me before you do that!”

“Sorry,” Jack laughed, kissing Ianto’s shoulder as he fumbled for the lube. “Come on, I want you in me.”

Ianto grabbed the lube from Jack, slicking his fingers hurriedly. “What, no foreplay?” he asked teasingly as Jack rolled onto his side, his back pressing up against Ianto.

“Not now,” Jack growled, bumping back against Ianto’s chest. In!

Ianto circled Jack’s entrance lightly, then slowly pressed in with two fingers. Jack gasped and arched, tensing slightly before consciously forcing himself to relax. Ianto nudged Jack’s mind with his own, melding comfortably into his thoughts and senses. The dual sensations heightened everything either of them would have felt on their own, and Ianto took a shuddering breath as he carefully pushed his fingers deeper into Jack.

Won’t break, Jack said insistently. Harder, c’mon.

Ianto crooked his fingers, pulling a moan from Jack. The phantom feeling in his own body made him bite down on Jack’s shoulder in pleasure. A third finger joined the first two and he worked the tenseness out of Jack’s muscles, coaxing him to loosen in anticipation.

In, dammit, Jack growled when he felt like Ianto had taken enough time in preparation.

Impatient, Ianto told him, pulling his fingers out and grabbing a condom. He rolled it on and slicked himself, then lined himself up. Still tied into Jack’s mind as he was, he could feel the echo of his cock pressing up bluntly against his entrance – and wasn’t that a strange feeling!

Need you, Jack whimpered, not bothering to hold back any of the emotions or sensations rushing through him. Ianto dove into them, let them flood him, and pressed home.

It wasn’t just twice the feeling they would have otherwise felt. Somehow, the bond was allowing them to feel more than the sum should have been. Ianto forgot how to breathe as he drove into Jack’s tight channel, fisting Jack’s cock as he did so. With the unfamiliar sensory overload, it took only minutes for them both to come, within seconds of each other. Ianto buried his scream in Jack’s shoulder and Jack recited an absolutely filthy litany to Ianto’s pillow as he came, feeling his orgasm and Ianto’s rolled in one.

For quite a while, neither of them had the energy to move, talk, or even think at each other. Ianto curled up tightly around Jack, his cock still hard and firmly encased in Jack’s channel. He could feel the phantom sensation in his own arse, and shifted just slightly to accommodate it.

Oh, god, Jack whimpered. I think I might be dead. Do that again.

No dying in my bed, Ianto said, twisting his hips slightly. He could feel it in his own mind when he brushed against Jack’s prostate again. Mm – god – so much better than doing it myself –

Jack sent a feeling of astonishment and curiosity to Ianto, who dipped into his memories and pulled one out, letting Jack immerse himself in it. It had been one of those nights when Jack had had to baby the Rift and Ianto had been alone. Jack moaned as he watched Ianto finger-fuck himself, as he listened to the impression of Ianto whisper Jack’s name in the dark.

He pushed back into Ianto insistently, absorbed in watching the Ianto in his memory. The real Ianto smiled and rocked back and forth, setting a slow rhythm in time with the memory. Jack’s cock was still hard and heavy in his hand, and liberally slicked with cum. Ianto trailed his hand down, smearing the cum messily as he palmed one of Jack’s balls, rolling it around his hand briefly before moving on to the next. Jack obligingly spread his legs further, half-lost in the memory still playing in their minds, but retaining just enough presence of mind to cooperate.

Ianto slipped his hand behind Jack’s balls, taking a moment to find the exact spot he was looking for, then pressed down hard, simultaneously finding Jack’s prostate from the inside with his cock. Jack convulsed with a wordless shout and came hard, spurting all over his belly and Ianto’s sheets, in tandem with the Ianto in the memory.

Ianto braced himself on Jack’s hip, driving into him urgently. Jack was gasping for breath still, but Ianto couldn’t wait for him to recover before taking his own pleasure, and besides, Jack’s mind was in his whispering yes, yes, take me, I’m yours, and with a strangled yell, Ianto came again for the second time in an embarrassingly short period.

I’ve never come so quickly since I first discovered jerking off, he said mournfully, once he was actually able to think again. His cock seemed to have given up at last and was reluctantly softening, but he twisted around Jack, unwilling to let himself slide out just yet.

I can’t remember the last time I came that fast, Jack told him wryly. Twice! And you know, I just realised I forgot to give you your other present.

Ianto hid his face in the back of Jack’s neck. This wasn’t it? he asked sleepily.

No, but I’m not complaining, Jack said. I think we should, uh, dabble in this a bit more. Get in more practice having sex while linked, eh?

Oh yes, Ianto agreed contentedly. He could feel his grip on Jack loosening as he slipped towards sleep. Lots and lots more. But not now. Sleep now.

Really good sex turns you monosyllabic, Jack mused. I’ll have to remember that.

Ianto pouted. Jack reflected that it was even more adorable when he felt the little-boy sulk in his mind, rather than just seeing it. He pulled away from Ianto carefully, allowing Ianto’s now-soft cock to slide out of him, leaving him feeling empty. Sighing, he turned, tugging the condom off Ianto’s cock, then tied it and tossed it in the general direction of the bin. He hoped it landed inside, or at the very least didn’t break when it hit the floor, but he was too tapped out to even think about getting up.

Curling back into Ianto’s arms, he let the post-coital drowsiness take over and fell into a blissful sleep.

Ianto woke up to an empty bed. A sleepy frown tugged at his brow as he groped blindly beside him, realising only after a few moments that Jack wasn’t there any more. The covers were still warm though, which meant he couldn’t have been gone long. Sighing, Ianto summoned up the energy to open his eyes and get out of bed.

Jack had somehow found the time to clean up, he realised as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. The bed was – well, not clean, not without a thorough wash, but not as badly stained as he’d expected it to be. The bin had been emptied, their clothes tidied away, and –

And there was a mysterious box sitting on his bedside table, an innocuous pink post-it stuck on top of it. Ianto yawned and picked it up, rubbing his eyes as he tried to focus on the writing.

25) Further to points 9 and 10 – now conclusively proven: Looks best without any clothes on.

A faint grin tugging at his lips, he pulled off the post-it and stuck it to his bedside table. He’d add it to the collection later. He turned the box over in his hands, wondering what it could possibly contain. A glance up told him that Jack still wasn’t anywhere in sight, so he shrugged and opened the box.

And lost his breath.

The stopwatch looked up at him innocently. It was old and not particularly fancy. He knew there were plenty of more attractive models out, pricier ones, newer ones. But –

With trembling fingers, he reached out and picked it up, snapping open the cover to reveal the inscription he knew would be inside. Dwi’n caru ti.

Ianto traced the worn lettering reverently, then carefully placed the stopwatch back in the box. The box itself went into the drawer of his bedside table, and then he headed out of his bedroom, completely unheeding of the fact that he was still naked.

Jack was sitting in the living room, looking nervous. He managed a weak smile when he saw Ianto. “Morning,” he said hesitantly. “I, ah, don’t know if –”

Thank you, Ianto said simply, walking over to Jack and dropping to his knees in front of him. He wrapped his arms around a rather surprised Jack’s waist and buried his face in his belly. Thank you.

I take it you like? Jack ventured cautiously. I wasn’t sure if you’d appreciate me tracking it down –

I like, Ianto assured him. Jack’s fingers on his chin forced him to raise his head, revealing the tears in his eyes.

You’re welcome, Jack said gently, brushing away the tears with his thumb. Hey, stop crying now, beautiful.

Sorry, Ianto mumbled.

Nothing to be sorry about, Jack said. I just think you look prettier when you’re smiling.

Ianto choked out a watery laugh. “Newsflash, Jack. You don’t call a guy pretty.”

“Call ‘em like I see ‘em,” Jack retorted, grinning as he urged Ianto to his feet. He pecked Ianto briefly on the lips, then pushed him towards the bathroom. “Go on, I’ll get breakfast ready.”

“Kay,” Ianto said obediently, trudging off unsteadily. Jack sent him a feeling of affection, registering the subtle shift in Ianto’s mental state as he pulled himself together.

Borrow your laptop? Jack asked as Ianto hopped in the shower. Bit of a late start today – should check my mail.

Go ahead, Ianto replied, scrubbing himself down quickly. What’s the time anyway?

Eight thirty, Jack said, then mentally poked Ianto as he dropped the soap. Relax, it’s not that late! I’ve already got breakfast ready and you live pretty near.

I’m usually at work by nine, Ianto complained.

Well, the boss has given you leave to come in late today, Jack said solemnly. Think we’ll still make it there before Owen?

I’m not laying any bets on that, Ianto replied, rinsing the lather off as Jack chuckled. He turned the water as cold as it would get, shivering as the blast hit him. It was a slightly masochistic thing to do, but it woke him up. He got out of the shower and hastily towelled himself off, stepping out to get dressed.

His hair was still damp when he finally showed up in the kitchen, wondering what Jack had made for breakfast. Bacon, eggs and toast, as it turned out.

“You’re not a bad hand at cooking, huh?” Ianto observed, happily diving into the food. The eggs were particularly good, and he took a second helping almost before finishing the first.

“Had a long time to practice,” Jack laughed. “But I have never been able to make coffee as good as yours. Want to teach me the trick?”

“No trick to it,” Ianto told him. “Just a good blend and patience.”

“That would be the trick,” Jack said, snapping his fingers. “That whole patience thing. Never was any good at it.”

Ianto smiled and patted the pocket where he’d tucked his new (old?) stopwatch. “Oh, I don’t know. I think you’re plenty patient under the right conditions.”

Jack paused, then gave him a sheepish smile. “Maybe sometimes,” he agreed, stealing a piece of bacon off Ianto’s plate.

Ianto finished off his food and let Jack take the plates to the sink. As Jack washed up, he did his hair and ensured he was presentable, then got their things together.

“Oh, check my email, by the way,” Jack said. “Left one open for you.”

Ianto put a folder of notes into his bag, checked his revolver and stun gun were in good condition (safeties on thank you) and tucked them into their respective holsters before pulling on his jacket. Then he went over to the laptop sitting on the coffee table and had a quick read through the email.

Alright Jack? (it read)

Wouldn't you just know it, there's been a crash in the NHS filing system and loads of patients' data has been lost... including all the toxic shock cases I flagged up in your area. After a period of chin-stroking and saying 'Hmm' to myself, I've decided to bring my visit to your place forward. If these deaths are connected then it looks like someone could be stepping things up, so I'm coming basically right away before anyone else dies (hopefully). I should be there by the end of the day as long as I don't get held up here. Put the kettle on, would you? Milk, no sugar.

See you soon!

Martha

“What toxic shock cases?” Ianto asked. The sender was a Martha Jones, presumably the same one who’d been with the Doctor and Jack, back when he’d disappeared.

“She mentioned it in another email a while back,” Jack said. “Bunch of people dead of toxic shock. Didn’t seem like there was anything alien about it, so it was put on the backburner for a while. Guess she found something she didn’t like about it. I don’t remember – did the email mention she works for UNIT?”

“Nope.”

“Well, she does, as a doctor,” Jack said, appearing in the living room. “Fully-fledged now, the little genius. Anyway, think you could find her a nice hotel? Round-the-clock room service, close to the Hub, that sort of thing? If we make her a VIP visitor?”

“I’m sure I can find something,” Ianto agreed, re-reading the email, then closing the window and shutting down the laptop. “How many nights?”

“No idea,” Jack said with a shrug. “Make it two. I’d like to take her for a meal tomorrow, but you just know something will come up. Think you can make a booking for that too anyway?”

“Of course,” Ianto said, making a mental note of it as he packed the laptop into his bag. “Lunch or dinner?”

“Dinner, I guess,” Jack said, then paused. “Don’t get jealous,” he added, grinning suddenly. “She’s an old friend, Martha Jones. Relative of yours?” He winked.

“Somehow I doubt it,” Ianto said dryly. “How many thousands of people are there in the world with the surname of Jones? Or even just in Wales?”

“Way too many,” Jack replied. “She was – there.”

Ianto looked up, catching a hint of pain from Jack’s mind before he locked it away from Ianto. “At the end of the world?” he asked softly.

Jack nodded. “Saved the world,” he said. “Walked the world over a year and saved it.” He grinned crookedly. “Be nice to talk to her again. Complain about the Doctor.”

Ianto smiled. “I’ll do my best to get that dinner reservation for you,” he promised. “And if anything does come up, I’ll handle it. Unless the world’s ending again, in which case I’ll defer to the experts. See if I can’t join the End of the World Survivors’ Club.”

Jack laughed. “I like that one,” he decided, and nodded towards the door. “Okay, deal. Shall we?”

It didn’t take long to arrange for the hotel and dinner reservations. Ianto dropped off the information at Jack’s office, knowing that Jack would likely want to take care of Martha himself. After checking up what it was that Martha was coming down for (seemed a bit odd, and he could see why she was suspicious), he vanished into the archives for the rest of the day, determined to get a solid amount of work done. There wasn’t too much left to do to get the archives fully up-to-date, and the knowledge was driving him to do as much as he could each day.

It was late afternoon when a call came in about a “suspicious-looking guy, the sort you lot always tell us to call about, y’know, like they’re dressed up for Halloween or sommat.” Ianto thanked the officer, assured that someone would be out shortly, and sent Tosh a quick message. Moments later, he got a reply: Thanks. Now Jack’s sending Owen and me out.

You’re welcome, he replied. Have you made up?

Not so much made up as completely ignoring the elephant in the room, she said. Wish us luck!

Good luck, he replied. Don’t die. The paperwork’s terrible.

=P, she replied. He smiled and replaced his phone in his pocket, returning to the job of wading through the jargon of yesteryears. It was like they designed these reports to be as incomprehensible as possible, and given Ianto’s level of tolerance for convoluted reports, that was saying quite a lot.

The Weevil got away, but Tosh and Owen returned with a dead body, which finally did what the promise of dinner had failed to do, and got Ianto out of the archives. He helped Owen bring the body into the autopsy bay, then left to sort out the SUV. As he’d expected, they hadn’t bothered cleaning it out, though they had at least put down a plastic sheet under the body. Ianto rolled up his sleeves and got to work, before the odour of death sank into the seats completely.

It didn’t take long to give the seats a cursory clean, though it was about time he brought the SUV out for a proper wash. He left the doors open so the vehicle could air out in their private garage, then went upstairs to the tourist office. If his estimates were right, Owen would be just about ready to cut open the dead guy, and he had no desire to stick around for that.

Ianto flipped the sign to ‘Closed’ and did a spot of tidying before settling behind his desk, a travel book in hand. It had been a while since he’d updated himself on events happening around Cardiff and the rest of Wales – always necessary, given their cover.

He barely glanced up when the door chimed as it swung open. “Sorry, we’re closed,” he said absently, looking back down. Then a dark hand holding a card hove into view, and he very nearly dropped the book, fairly leaping to his feet.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said, trying not to let the embarrassment show. He hadn’t been expecting Martha Jones to come straight over as soon as she arrived. Had she even stopped off at the hotel?

He hit the button for the entrance and gestured for her to precede him, which she did without hesitation. There was something about her, Ianto thought absently as he switched on the speakers and told Jack his visitor had arrived. Then he followed her in and waited for the entrance to close, realising as he did so that she was watching him intently. Something familiar, like he’d seen her before, and not just in those Wanted posters or grainy security footage. Somewhere else. Like he’d known her.

“This way, please,” he said, and brought her to the main door. He opened it for her and stood back, allowing her an unimpeded view of the Hub and the team. Other than Jack, they all looked rather bewildered.

“Miss Martha Jones,” Jack said, his voice rich with pleasure, smiling and tipping her a wink.

She grinned and trotted up to catch him in a hug which he returned with gusto. “Oh, it’s good to see you, Jack,” she said, sounding genuinely pleased. Ianto fancied he could hear a smidgen of camaraderie beneath the casual air, a kind of bond shared between two people who’d been through something no one else had. He blocked the flash of jealousy before Jack could feel it.

He’d thought he was over this sort of thing.

He hung back until the others had left, then wondered what he should do. Go back up to the tourist office? Go to the archives and do a bit more work? (Get some long-overdue dinner, his stomach suggested.)

Turning on his heel, he headed up to the kitchen. He’d brought a sandwich in earlier and he could bring that down to the archives and –

Or not. He stared at the - thing that had spilled over his sandwich. If he’d told Owen once, he’d told him a million times not to keep his bloody alien blood samples in the fucking fridge!

He bit his lip hard, forcing the frustration down, well aware that it wasn’t so much Owen he was angry at as it was himself. Stop being a baby, he told himself firmly, making sure that Jack was feeling nothing of his emotions. Remember you swore not to let misunderstandings get in the way again. Talk to him… when there’s time.

His phone chose that exact moment to ring and Ianto sighed as he fished it out of his pocket. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and swallowed once. When he opened his eyes again, his shoulders were straight and his voice was even as he answered the phone. Another attack, his hospital contact told him, she’d called straightaway because she noticed this sort of attack had been flagged by Torchwood and could they do anything to help?

“We’ll certainly try our best, Chantelle,” Ianto assured her. “You said she’s recovering now? Is she up to visitors?”

“Yes,” Chantelle replied. “Anytime, of course, for you. Oh, I should be getting back to work now.”

“All right,” Ianto agreed. “We’ll likely be sending someone over in a few, so let security know, will you?”

“Sure,” she said agreeably. “Bye, Ianto!”

“Bye, Chantelle,” he replied solemnly, getting a giggle that was distinctly at odds with the matronly doctor who’d been speaking to him. She adored that he always pronounced her name properly and didn’t try to shorten it like everyone else did. It had made their initial meeting go well, and she was now a happy informant.

He eyed the destroyed sandwich again, then resignedly slipped the last few digestive biscuits onto a plate. They’d have to do.

He headed over to where Jack was, standing behind Owen and Martha. He was just about to step up and tell them about his call when something flew by his head and hit the far side of the workstation. A completely involuntary yelp escaped his throat as he ducked, his biscuits going flying.

It took only a second to realise what had happened, and he glared at Owen, wishing the man would spontaneously catch on fire. Jack’s laughter wasn’t making him feel any better, and neither was the fact that his mini-dinner had just vanished into the depths of the Hub.

“Jack,” Ianto said, very calmly. Jack sobered up immediately, but Ianto could still see the laughter lurking in his eyes. And what, he thought resentfully, if Owen hadn’t missed? The thought didn’t have a chance to escape into Jack’s mind before Ianto slammed all his shields into place, locking Jack out completely.

“There’s been another attack,” Ianto said flatly. He gave them the details and they immediately kicked into gear. He watched as Jack grabbed Gwen and Martha and left. Owen had already forgotten Ianto’s existence, and Tosh was still busy working on recovering the NHS data.

Ianto turned and headed down to the archives. He needed some time alone.

As always, being in the archives helped him centre himself, and once he was calmer, he could see that he was really over-reacting to everything. The reason for that came to him almost immediately, and he sighed. Not jealousy, not quite – more like… insecurity. Martha made him uncomfortable, made him start questioning what he could offer Jack. Again. And insecurity apparently turned him into a petulant child.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Right. Time to start acting like an adult.

He felt far more in control of himself by the time Jack called a meeting to present the information they’d found so far. When Jack placed Ianto and Gwen together to investigate the criminal side of things, Ianto merely nodded in acceptance.

He let Gwen take the lead (as if there was any stopping her). Besides, she was likely more familiar with the police procedures than he was – the majority of his knowledge came from books and watching policemen explode in Jack’s wake. Nothing about what was going on made sense to him, but it was when they were interviewing the victim’s friend that they finally found their first real clue.

Because diabetes wasn’t something you could cure.

They got back to work just in time for Owen to send a terse message to Ianto, telling him to find out what he could about some place called “the Pharm.” Ianto briefly considered replying with a note about the wonders of common courtesy, but then decided it wasn’t worth it. The Pharm, as it turned out, was a fairly innocuous consortium that did research and development on biotechnology. They were at the top of the game, and were responsible for a number of medical breakthroughs. Naturally, they were too good to be true.

Jack and Owen called back to tell them that the Pharm was definitely harbouring alien life, and that they hadn’t been able to get in to explore more of it. Jack complained to Ianto about how much he hated politics, and Ianto entertained a brief fantasy of asking Her Majesty to get them into the facility. Then he reluctantly shelved the thought and settled down with Tosh to discuss what their next plan of action was.

“I had a brief go of it earlier,” she confessed. “Just a quick try, but I couldn’t get into the systems.”

“Think if you made the effort that’d change?” Ianto asked.

“Doubt it,” she said, shrugging. “I had a look at what they had up. The quickest way would be to use brute force, but they’d almost definitely know I was there. And if I tried to sneak in, it could take days to get past their security.”

“Any other innovative ways to get in?” Ianto asked, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes.

“Nothing I can think of,” Tosh said. “Ianto, are you okay?”

He cracked open one eye. “Yes, why?”

“You look tired,” she said, frowning.

“Haven’t had the chance to eat dinner yet,” he replied. “Bit hungry, but it can wait.”

“Did you forget to bring your food?” she asked, then immediately shook her head. “No, of course you didn’t. What happened?”

He smiled slightly. “It was contaminated,” he said. “Just an accident, but no matter – I’ll pick something up later on the way home.”

“We could be stuck here for hours,” she pointed out.

He shrugged lightly. “Then we’d best get cracking on this,” he said. “Sooner we’re done…”

Tosh evidently wasn’t happy at the brush-off, but didn’t push the topic. “You want to try and research any other angles we could take, getting in?” she asked. “I’ll keep trying to hack in without tipping them off.”

“Sure,” Ianto agreed. “Good luck.”

“You too,” she said with a grin.

Ianto checked out the Pharm’s website, which informed him that the facility a) wasn’t hiring, b) did offer tours, but those had to be booked months in advance and c) was really very innocent, look at all the Good they did. He did manage to find building plans, which were useless as of that moment. Internal deliveries and internships were a washout too, but he finally struck gold when he looked up the possibility of sending in volunteers. They were looking for people, all right – that was their in. Ianto wondered, briefly, if Jack would send him in. Probably not; they’d need someone with more experience, surely. Now, if it was a library they needed to go undercover in…

Ianto very nearly bit through his lip when Jack told him to brief Martha. He liked to think he handled it with precision, suavity, a cool charisma. But really, whenever he was near her, especially when they were alone together, he kept getting that niggling feeling of knowing her, which was very rapidly throwing him out of sorts. The way she kept looking at him out of the corner of her eye didn’t help, and neither did her question about whether he and Jack were, you know.

“We… dabble,” Ianto said slowly, thinking back to the previous morning.

“Yeah?” she asked, looking as if she was one step away from squealing.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“So what’s his dabbling like?” she asked eagerly.

He makes me feel alive. Makes me feel loved. Makes me feel like I’m not useless, worthless, a freak, unwanted, despised. Every time he touches me it’s like I’m the only person in his universe. I want to be the same for him, so much. I don’t know if I can be, even just for my lifetime. It hurts so much to know with such certainty that he’ll have others after me, but it also hurts to think of him being alone after me. Can’t win either way. Loving him is difficult but for some reason I can’t stop myself. I don’t want to stop myself.

“… Innovative,” he offered.

“Really?” she said, grinning.

“Bordering on the avant-garde,” he added.

“Wow.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ianto nearly sighed, lost in thought. How on earth was he supposed to tell Jack any of this? Should he even bother? What would it do to them?

“Mm. So,” he said abruptly, knowing that Martha didn’t suspect anything of what he was thinking and desperate to keep it that way. “Shall we get your cover story sorted?”

Billy Davis was captured with very little fuss, given that he was a professional hit-man. Once again, Ianto thought, the trusty stun-gun proves its worth! The thought was followed immediately by I really need some food. And sleep.

Controlling the Weevil they were using to terrorise Davis was, in fact, probably the most difficult thing he’d had to do. He’d much rather have used Janet, but she was still sleeping off a dose of sedative and would be far too groggy to be appropriately threatening. Instead, he used a mild sedative on the only other Weevil they had in residence then. It was a fresh arrival through the Rift, and in two weeks hadn’t shown any signs of reduced aggression. Ianto sprayed it with a low-dose sedative to even the odds, then hooked up the chain and then introduced it to Davis.

He spilled.

(When Billy Davis exploded, Ianto momentarily wondered if that was what would have happened to his head, had Owen not missed. It was very hard, he knew, to get brain matter out of the walls.)

The Pharm was even worse than what any of them had expected. Captive Weevils, for god’s sakes, and all sorts of other aliens. Ianto could put a species name to each of the poor creatures trapped in the facility, and he knew enough about each of them to know they were beyond help. Even if they got them out, the trauma they’d already been through couldn’t be reversed. In the vast majority of the creatures, only the canisters they were in were keeping them alive.

“Jack,” he whispered into the comms, fighting to keep the grief spilling over into his voice. “I can give you a report on Zone A. They’re holding dozens of creatures… they seem to be using them as test subjects.”

It was exploitation on a scale that would get them shut down if it were any Earth-born creature. What made these aliens any different? The pain and misery coming from the animals was almost more than he could bear, more than he could keep out of his mind. His shields were already weakened because he’d locked Jack out, and now they were barely enough to keep him sane under the onslaught of agony.

They got everyone out and initiated the shut-down of the facility, and for a while, it seemed like everything was going to be okay.

And then Owen died.

And then Owen came back to life.

And then he beat Death.

Only in bloody Torchwood.

After a (very) rocky start, Owen adapted to being dead quite well. He still complained a lot, he still left ‘biological experiments’ lying around for Ianto to clear, he was still a pain in the arse. Oddly, he was also more tolerable than he had been before. Maybe the terror of fighting Death had changed him, maybe feeling useless and unwanted had altered his views. Or maybe he’d been that way all along, and he’d just refused to show it until Death had stripped away the mask. Whatever the truth was, it was suddenly a lot easier for Ianto to see the man that Owen was, under all the grouchiness.

Pity it had taken his death for him to show it.

Ianto felt a little guilty about all the uncharitable thoughts he’d had about Owen that day, but he kept it well-hidden. The last thing Owen needed was for Ianto to start treating him differently. As things stood, only Ianto had managed to retain any sense of normalcy when dealing with him, at least initially. It seemed like the others were finally beginning to come to terms with what had happened, though.

Well, the others save Jack, at any rate. His lover was absolutely awash in guilt and sorrow at what he’d inadvertently done to Owen. Jack did a good job of putting a brave face on things, but Ianto could feel the remorse constantly pounding away at his shields. It didn’t help that he was still blocking Jack from their mental bond, not wanting to subject Jack to his own confused emotions. But separating himself from Jack like that meant that his shields had weakened tremendously – on top of which he’d taken a battering from the aliens at the Pharm, from his own insecurities, and from the emotions the others were feeling.

All of that meant that his shields were practically on the verge of shattering, and he didn’t know if he could rebuild them without Jack finding out. As if that weren’t enough, the feeling that he somehow knew Martha Jones hadn’t vanished – in fact, it had only gotten stronger, and he’d recently started having nightmares, strange dreams about spiked metal spheres and a ravaged Earth. Jack had taken to spending nights with Owen, helping him through this difficult time, so Ianto didn’t even have that small comfort left to him.

All things considered, when Jack finally called Ianto on blocking him from his mind, Ianto’s response wasn’t really a surprise.

“I thought you were the one who wanted this,” Jack said quietly, so that the others wouldn’t overhear. Ianto typed away quietly, ignoring Jack and wishing he could cart this entire workstation down to the archives for some privacy. “Did I do something? I mean, what is it you don’t want me to see?”

“Sir,” Ianto said in a too-calm voice. “Perhaps we could leave this discussion for later. I do have a lot of work to do, and –”

“And it gives you time to come up with a good excuse,” Jack interjected. “Nice try, but no.”

Ianto clenched his jaw hard enough for it to start hurting. “Really, sir, there’s plenty –”

“And drop the ‘sir,’ will you?” Jack asked. “It’s not helping your case.”

“Dammit, Jack!” Ianto burst out wildly. Tosh and Gwen both yelped and jumped in their seats; Owen dropped the scalpel he was holding and cursed as it narrowly missed his foot. Ianto took a deep breath, and shook his head. “Sorry – I just – I can’t –”

“Ianto?” Jack asked, bewildered. And then he did the one thing Ianto had spent the past few days hoping he wouldn’t.

He deliberately reached into Ianto’s mind, and Ianto’s shields shattered.

“Oh, bugger,” Ianto said, and then collapsed.

Jack staggered back physically as Ianto’s emotions flooded him, unrestrained. Even as an echo, their disorganised chaos was amazingly intense, and he felt tears come to his eyes of their own accord. The other three were moving, he knew, he could feel them somewhere near him, thought they were probably talking, but he couldn’t hear anything over the rush of blood and pain –

Slowly, by degrees, he came back to himself. His head was pillowed on a soft lap and he was sure that one of the others was taking care of Ianto in a similar manner. Still, the moment awareness returned, he struggled to his knees, batting away restraining hands and blindly crawling over to where Ianto was. The panicking voices quietened as he grasped that familiar waistcoat and curled into Ianto’s side, whispering I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry to the emptiness that was Ianto’s mind.

Carefully, he sent threads of his mind through Ianto’s, seeking that familiar touch. It was cold and dark now, unpleasantly like death, and he felt fear clutch at him as he searched.

Yan, he called. Please, Yan. I’m so sorry I didn’t see this sooner. Let me help you. You don’t have to always be the strong one, you don’t have to always be the one protecting me.

Who else would? The mind-voice was faint and exhausted, but Jack clung to it desperately.

It’s mutual, it has to be, he said. We lean on each other, right?

You’re always so strong, Ianto replied as if he hadn’t heard a thing. You have to be. It’s so difficult for you, I know that. How can I add to that?

You’re not, Jack whispered. Not as long as you let me in.

For a long time, there wasn’t any response. Then he heard a very small Okay and nearly started crying again, this time in relief.

Jack woke up slowly. The first thing he saw was Tosh’s concerned face, which lit up when his eyes opened.

“Owen!” she called out. “Jack’s awake!”

“Yan?” he managed hoarsely as Gwen and Owen came bursting in.

“Right there,” Gwen said. “We couldn’t get you to let go for anything.”

Jack looked down at his hand, which was still firmly holding onto Ianto’s waistcoat. Evidently they’d had to take it off Ianto in order to separate them.

He rolled over and got to his feet, pushing Gwen away when she tried to protest. “I’m fine,” he said tiredly. “It was just unexpected.”

“What was?” Owen pressed. “Your brain activity was all over the place. I’ve never seen patterns like that before! What happened, Jack?”

“Telepathic thing,” Jack said, eyes fixed on Ianto. His young lover was in a bed on the other side of the room, which struck Jack as completely wrong. “Side-effect from when we linked to talk to Callista.”

“That was ages ago!” Tosh cried.

“Wasn’t a problem before,” Jack replied, wobbling to his feet. “Still not, actually.” Unsteadily, he moved across the room, not allowing any of them to help him. It took the last of his energy to push Ianto towards the wall and climb into the space afforded him, drawing Ianto into a protective embrace. After a moment, Ianto’s face relaxed and he turned slightly, snuggling into Jack’s hold. “Sleep now,” Jack decided, and dropped off immediately.

“You know,” Owen said, watching the two of them. “I think –”

“Yes?” Tosh asked when he didn’t go on.

He shrugged. “I think maybe I was wrong about them.” He caught sight of the grin on Tosh’s face and scowled. “Oh, shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

Part Twelve