FIC: There Are Millions of Suns Left.

[basingstoke]

Title: There Are Millions of Suns Left.

Fandom: Torchwood

Pairing: Toshiko/Ianto and more

Rating: XXX

Note: Thanks to jacquez for the beta.
Set post-Season One. There is a crossover element to this story, but this is a Torchwood story, so I'm not labeling it.


*

Toshiko took over Torchwood Three when it became clear Jack hadn't just gone out for chips. She'd expected Owen to make his move, but he hadn't said a word. He spent a lot of time down in the cells, staring at Weevils.

The Weevils, they were the first real problem. Their other prisoners disappeared when the time stream righted itself, but the Weevils were still filling the cells beyond their ability to care for them. Jack had some place in America he took the Weevils whenever it occurred to him--something about the Americans having "a great lift to the stars," whatever that was supposed to mean--but Tosh couldn't make heads or tails of his organization system. Even Ianto got lost in this cocoon of an office.

Ianto was attempting the filing cabinet today, while Tosh was mining his desk. "Ianto," she said suddenly, "look at this."

She pulled a candy bar out of the back of the drawer. Ianto wiped his forehead, leaving a purplish streak of mimeograph dust across his face. "It's a Mars bar from the 1950s," he said.

"I think it's been that long since Jack tidied his office." She turned it over in her fingers. It seemed fossilized, rock-hard, as if the caramel had been replaced over time by iron filings from the staples and the nougat transformed into copy toner.

"Shall I label it, put it in the records? Prehistoric sweets?" Ianto sat on the side of the desk and sighed.

Tosh threw the candy into the full trash can. "This is absurd. I can't think like Jack. This is like trying to read his mind with phrenology." And she recalled trying to read his mind with telepathy, the blankness she found with Mary's poisonous gift, and laughed bitterly. "You know him better," she said to Ianto.

"I don't."

"You know him differently, then. You're in and out all day; what does he do in here?"

Ianto stood up and revolved once, slowly. "He... well, he sleeps here, so he's already up when I come in. Looking at the coral, usually," he said, nodding at the stand on his desk. Tosh stood and looked at the coral. "Or else at the hand," Ianto said, "but usually the coral. He sprinkles that powder on it of a morning."

"Have you done that already?"

"Yes. It glows," Ianto said, and they both looked at it, wondering just what the hell it actually was.

"So he's doing that when you walk in?"

"Then he asks me for coffee. He's sitting at the desk by then, with his notebook. He jots down everyone he needs to call."

Tosh nodded and sat at the desk. She looked at the notebook, dated the day before Armageddon: UNIT, the Prime Minister, Claude in Paris, Gemma in London. She had all of them covered. It's the rest of the job, the secret parts that Jack kept locked in his peculiar brain, that she just couldn't find. "And then?"

Ianto laughed abruptly. "Then, usually, I perform oral sex upon him."

"Oh. Oh!" Tosh looked up at him. She'd wondered what that kiss meant. "How long has that been going on?"

"Since I started." Ianto looked down, his hands clasped behind him. "It's a bit twisted. Lisa was still alive. I suppose I thought if I distracted him, he wouldn't notice. I suppose--it made me feel better about lying. But then... it got complicated." Ianto shrugged.

"And then you fell in love with him."

"I suppose I did."

"As if there's any other option," Tosh said.

Ianto nodded. He knelt, slowly, raising his eyes to her in Jack's chair. "He doesn't sleep well, I can tell. He's pale in the morning and the color starts to come into him with his coffee, then I bring the rest." He touched her knee, lightly, stroking slightly upward. He touched the inside of her thigh even more softly. His eyes were large and very dark.

"Do you want to?" Tosh asked. She could hardly believe herself.

"Very much," Ianto said. He slid his hands up her thighs, rucking up her skirt as his sleeves caught the light cotton, and when he reached her panties she raised her hips and let him pull them off.

The first touch of his mouth was light, like a kiss. Her hands were on the arms of Jack's chair. Her skirt covered Ianto's nose and his eyes closed in concentration. So near, she could see the beginning of frown lines on his forehead; he was too young for real creases, but it wouldn't be long.

He settled his hands beneath her arse, tilting her pelvis up into his mouth, and she felt his tongue dip inside her. "Oh," she gasped.

"Mm," Ianto replied, not a word, barely a sound.

He licked her clit up and down, the underside of his tongue slick as Teflon, and his hands clenched and unclenched with the rhythm of his head. She never done anything like this, right out in *public,* where anyone could see if they came in the door--Gwen and Owen were out running down missing persons, but they wouldn't be gone forever, and the door was wide open and the blinds not drawn--oh, this was mad, but it felt fantastic.

She stroked Ianto's hair, and he turned his head and kissed her palm. He glanced up at her; his lips were red and shining. "Go on then, finish the job," she said.

Ianto smiled. He moved his hand; he penetrated her with two fingers, a shock of hard bone and manicured nail that made her shiver with urgency. "Go on," she said, as Ianto's mouth returned to her clit.

He crooked his fingers inside her and she felt every centimeter enclosed in her soft flesh. She closed her eyes, tossed her head back, clung to the arms of chair, and let this diligent young man bring her up--off--out, like her orgasm was something trapped inside her that had to be expelled through her clit and her fast, harsh breath.

She opened her eyes. She was still so sensitive, she could go again, but she didn't want to. Shagging Ianto really wasn't the point of this. His left hand was still cupping her arse, his wrist against her vulva, and as she looked down, she realized he was bringing himself off with his slick right hand.

Ianto was extraordinarily pretty with his blood up. She admired him for the bare half-minute it took him to come on the rough tile floor, then admired him more flushed bright pink and red with release. He shifted and rested against her knee, pressing his hot cheek to the inside of her thigh.

This is what Jack would see every morning, she realized. No wonder he was always so chipper. She took a sip of coffee, bare-arsed in this enormous leather chair, and felt like a queen.

Ianto pulled a hair from his teeth. She hadn't shaved since Mary; she hadn't even considered sex. "I'm so sorry," she said.

"For what?"

"I'm a bit untidy," she said.

Ianto looked up at her face. "I like it," he said, and smiled. She stroked his hair again, finding it damp at the temples.

"Jack has a racing stripe," Ianto said. "It's quite funny, but he said it's the style where he comes from."

Tosh rolled her eyes. "Miami or Mars?"

"Personally," Ianto said, lowering his voice, "I think he's from Milton Keynes."

"Overcompensating, you think."

"He can't possibly be as exotic as he claims. He could have learned that accent from the telly."

"And there are three hundred million Americans," Tosh said. "They're common as ants."

"Exactly," Ianto said.

Tosh sat up and stretched. "What next?"

"A wash downstairs." Ianto nodded to the manhole leading down to Jack's bedroom. He licked his fingers idly.

"Oh, yes." She hadn't been down there. It felt disrespectful--it was his *home,* not his office. "Are you down there often?"

"Only when I don't want to wash up in front of Owen and everyone," Ianto said. "There isn't anything there except a coat hook and his cot."

Tosh pulled open the manhole, which swung up easily. It was lighter than it seemed. It felt excitingly sluttish to climb down a ladder with slippery thighs. Jack must have done this as well, though, being such a notorious tart.

There was, indeed, nothing but a hook, a small traveling chest, a cot, and a sink with a basket of toiletries beneath it. Hair gel and shaving lotion, soap and toothpaste, all strangely normal brands.

Ianto came down after her and wet a cloth. He glanced at her, knelt, and ran the warm cloth up under her skirt to clean her off. "Oh," Tosh said; she could go again, *very* easily, and it doesn't sound at all like a bad idea. There was a flat surface and Jack was sure to have condoms somewhere. She glanced at the coat hook, which held nothing but an Air Force cap and tie. Maybe in the basket under the sink.

Ianto washed his face off. Tosh shook out the blankets on the bed, giving no little thought to simply tossing Ianto down on the canvas. She was quite sure he'd be up for it as well. She thumped the thin pillow--she had always pictured Jack on satin sheets, and the reality was startling--and looked inside the cap on the hook.

There was a piece of paper stuck inside the brim. She plucked and read the number written on it in Jack's familiar cursive; it's American. She turned it over and read "General Jack O'Neill, Stargate Command."

"Ianto," she said.

"Yes?"

"I think it worked." She showed him the paper.

"Oh!" He smiled, startlingly wide. "Same again tomorrow, then?"

Tosh laughed and took him by the back of the neck and kissed him.

*

Extension 999 is a direct line, Toshiko isn't at all surprised to find out. "Yo," said the male voice on the other end of the line.

"This is Torchwood Three," Tosh said.

"Torchwood? Torchwood, Torchwood. Remind me. Torchwood."

"I believe you knew my predecessor, Captain Jack Harkness."

"Oh, sure. Interesting guy. He's not dead, is he?"

"He's... not with us at the moment," Tosh said, the same old euphemism not sitting quite right in her mouth.

"What's that a euphemism for?"

Tosh sighed. "I'm sorry, I can't say anything further without the proper authorization. Who is this, please?"

"General Jack O'Neill. What's up?"

"I believe Captain Harkness had a standing agreement with your organization?"

"Weevil transport."

"We have an abundance at the moment. Unfortunately, Captain Harkness left in rather a hurry, and I don't have the details on the arrangement."

"Not many details, really. Ship them over, shove them through the Stargate. Easy. Uh, let me get my guy, find out when we're open. Getting the crate down takes a little manpower."

"Thank you," Tosh said. She was transferred to a far more efficient man who reminded her strongly of Ianto and she jotted down date, time, phone number, secret passwords. She waved Ianto in after she hung up. "How would you like to go to Colorado?" she asked.

"I wouldn't," he said.

"All right, how would you like to see the secret American space project?" she asked, laughing.

"How many days should I pack for?"

*

They transported eleven drugged Weevils in a very large packing crate in an American military transport jet. Tosh and Ianto were strapped in up front with the pilot and a charming young woman named Martina who, it turned out, was assigned to study the Weevils and their culture.

"Would you let me come along on some captures?" she asked wistfully. "It would tell me so much. They must have some reason for coming through the Rift. If we could figure it out..."

Tosh exchanged glances with Ianto. "Out of the question, I'm afraid. Hiring freeze."

"Liaison? Improving relations between our two programs?"

Tosh shook her head and Martina slumped in her seat. "They're incredibly dangerous," Tosh said. "Think of the trouble if you were ripped limb from limb."

"I know. But they're so mild on their home planet, we can't understand what happens. They're sentient. We can talk to them. Then they come here and it's like letting a ferret in among rats."

"How very strange," Tosh replied. "Do you know, I always wondered why Jack insisted on capturing them rather than just killing them. Forgive me, but it would be far easier."

"No, they're perfectly rational creatures! But here--" Martina spread her hands. "My theory is that the Rift between planets disrupts their brain chemistry."

"I've been through the Rift and back and it didn't affect me at all."

"Really?" Martina flipped open a notebook. "Did you stay on Earth?"

"We moved in time but not space."

Martina bit the top of her pen. "Are you sure I can't liaise a little? I can stay in HQ, just..." Tosh shook her head again, and Martina sighed in defeat.

*

General O'Neill turned out to be a distinguished, intelligent, but absent-minded man. Dr. Jackson, Martina's supervisor, on the other hand, actually climbed on top of the crate to observe the Weevils. Tosh and Ianto looked up at him dubiously.

"I can't figure out what does it," he said.

"No, sir," Martina said.

"I mean, they shouldn't react to this, any more than we would," Jackson said, dangling a string into the crate. The Weevils snarled and swiped at it. "They should just ask me what the hell I'm doing."

"Exactly, sir," Martina said. She leaned over and snarled something into the crate. Four weevils slammed against the side and Ianto leapt forward and snatched her back a step. "I said hello," she said.

"Beginning dialing sequence," a voice said over the intercom. "All personnel prepare for transport." Dr. Jackson climbed off the crate, muttering to himself.

"Ma'am, I'll be escorting the prisoners. Are you accompanying them to the planet?" an officer asked Tosh.

"Yes, we both will," Tosh said firmly. The officer nodded and several other men in a different uniform--Tosh still hadn't worked out the Who's Who of American military--stepped up and surround them. Another man in that uniform drove the forklift. Martina stood beside Ianto.

The Americans, as it turned out, had a huge metal ring that created an interplanetary portal at will. Tosh's fingers itched with the urge to take it apart and see how it worked. The portal looked like a stone dropping into water when it opened, and quickly stabilized into a puddle standing on end. It was beautiful, and Tosh touched Ianto's shoulder, knowing how privileged they were to see it.

The forklift drove through first with its escort. Tosh, Ianto, and Martina followed it. The portal took her breath away; she had a moment of vertigo, as if she could feel herself stepping across millions of light-years between one footfall and the next.

She put her foot down on an alien world. She landed heavily, stumbling, and Ianto caught her. He had the advantage of flat shoes. "Higher gravity," she said.

"1.71 Gs. It wears you out pretty fast," Martina said.

The sky was blue, just like home, but the short grass at the base of the platform was yellow. Blue-green flowers swayed above the level of the grass, and the platform was ringed with glossy, deep violet vines. A path of dingy white gravel led from the platform to a broad forest of yellow- and green-leaved trees. Where the path met the forest, there was a small collection of brightly-painted tents.

Martina walked out in front of the forklift and snarled something at the top of her lungs. From within the tents, a flag waved and there was an answering yell.

Tosh's eyes flickered to the armed soldiers involuntarily. A village of Weevils--she didn't relish the thought, no matter how many times they told her how peaceful the creatures were. The Weevils in the cage were snarling up a storm, and it certainly did not sound like language to her.

But there they were, a party of Weevils emerging from the tents. The one in the lead was female--you could tell by the pattern of nose creases--and had two embroidered flags mounted on flexible poles on her shoulders, which created a silhouette oddly like a Chinese opera costume. Behind her, six other Weevils, male and female, carried heavy rope and sharp wooden stakes. They all wore painted leather clothing trimmed with fur.

Martina raised her arms and snarled. The leader returned the gesture. They both reached out their arms--Ianto breathed in sharply--and clasped hands, then bowed.

The other Weevils approached the cage and the soldiers, who were apparently used to this, unlocked it and helped them pull the prisoners out one by one. The prisoners were trussed and staked to the ground with the rope, with the native Weevils hissing and growling at them in a way that was beginning to sound... worried?

"The Matriarch thanks you for returning their mad cousins," Martina said. Tosh jerked her eyes away from the cage and found the lead Weevil gazing at her levelly. She was no more than ten meters away. "She appreciates that it's more difficult to trap them rather than kill them."

Toshiko found her manners and bowed to the Matriarch. "We are glad that we can return them to their home," she said. Martina growled that to the Matriarch, who shrugged her shoulders, making the flags dance.

"We're done with the prisoner transfer, ma'am," said the officer in charge to Tosh. "We can stay to chat if you like, but I don't recommend it at this gravity."

"No, I think not." Her calves and her back felt stressed, as if she'd been lifting weights, which of course she had.

"Um, it would be an honor if you said goodbye to the Matriarch as equals, but that means brushing your cheek against both hers. I don't know if you want to," Martina said.

Tosh took a deep breath. This was leadership, wasn't it? Of course Jack would do it, but then he could revive from a head shot, so she wasn't sure how to judge his physical bravery any more. No, she had to use her own judgment. "Of course I will," she said. Martina smiled, close-lipped, and growled to the Matriarch.

Tosh stepped forward, one heavy foot at a time, and hoped the Matriarch couldn't smell her fear. She couldn't stop thinking of the Weevil victims she had seen--the porter that Gwen had witnessed, the woman torn limb from limb, the teenage boy with his belly ripped out--but this was a thinking creature, on her own planet, and she hadn't been a part of Torchwood this long to be fooled by the appearance of things.

The Matriarch held out her hands, and Tosh placed both her hands in them. The Matriarch's claws were blunt against her wrists, possibly filed down. "I am honored to meet you," Tosh said. She brushed her cheek against the Matriarch's face, feeling the down on the alien's face so similar to her own. Her skin was harder, the ridges almost sharp, but she smelled like cardamom.

"The Matriarch is pleased to greet her sister leader," Martina said.

When they stepped back through the portal, Tosh felt so much lighter that she became almost giddy. "You were absolutely amazing," Ianto whispered into her ear. "I nearly went for my gun when it touched you. I couldn't believe you just stood there, you were so calm!"

"Ssh," Tosh whispered in reply. "Bond, James Bond." They didn't have the manpower, the portal to different planets, or the uniforms, but they did have British cool, and by God they would use it.

Ianto nodded slightly and locked himself down. His eyes twinkled, though, and made her feel warm.

Martina ran over and shook Tosh's hand. "Thank you! And if you ever need me for anything Weevil-related, you can reach me through the SGC any time! It would be an honor."

"Yes, I'll see what I can do," Tosh said. She wondered suddenly how in the world this girl had learned their language, their customs, right down to the protocol for visiting leaders. Had she lived with them on their heavy planet? And how brave to be the first to embrace an alien with such enormous teeth, even if it was dressed in a lovely suede pant suit.

General O'Neill strolled in and said, "Hey, I'll take you for a steak dinner. Shoot the breeze." Tosh wondered if all American generals were so aggressively casual.

"I believe we have time," Tosh replied, glancing at Ianto. Ianto nodded. "There are any number of things I would love to consult you about."

Like how to steal Dr. Reyes away, because she was Torchwood material if anyone was.

*

Martina arrived the next week with three crates of research material and a potted green flower. "Wow," she said, looking around the Hub. "This will be different."

"Yes, no Marines here, I'm afraid," Tosh said.

Ianto set up the pot plant's special lamp--it needed a bulb on a spectrum tilted slightly toward the infrared--on Martina's desk, which once had been Suzie's. Martina needed the space, after all, and it would be good to have Suzie's ghost out of the work space.

"No blokes left," Owen said as he walked through the main door. "Aren't you worried, Tosh my love, putting so many canaries around the cat?"

Ianto frowned. "Yes, you're very funny, Owen."

"This is Dr. Owen Harper," Tosh said to Martina. "Owen, this is Dr. Martina Reyes, our new Weevil expert. We're borrowing her from the Americans. We're going to try a new approach."

"Medical doctor?" Owen had a bag of donuts in his hand and offered her one.

Martina took a glazed chocolate and said, "Anthropology."

"Pity." Owen smiled, the better to mix his messages.

"We had it first," Ianto said. "Doctor of Divinity predates the medical usage." He had a PhD in history and Tosh had a PhD in maths, but of course Owen knew that.

Gwen ducked through the door. "Hiya. I found another one of these fliers. I don't know where they come from," she said, gesturing with another yellow-framed missing poster for Captain Jack Harkness. "Can't be the Rift. They're put up with sticky tape. Oh, is this the new girl?"

"Martina Reyes, Gwen Cooper," Tosh said. She took the poster from Gwen. "You know, this really bothers me."

"I know. Hardly anyone should know he's gone. Hi," Gwen said to Martina. Martina waved. "It's the same poster, so it must be the same person or organization. How many friends does he have?"

Tosh looked at Ianto. Ianto shook his head; he'd already told her all he knew. Owen had been there the longest of any of them, but he claimed not to know the first thing about Jack. "Secret organizations just aren't as secret as they used to be," Tosh said, staring down at Jack's sad eyes on the missing poster.

*

Phone calls ate up most of her day, every day. She understood now why Jack would get so happy when they got a call about strange doings in Splott or a mystery in the mountains. She wasn't Jack, she knew that, and perhaps she would be more effective back in the office, but the urge to stretch her legs was sometimes overwhelming. She ceded tactics and first gun position to Gwen, though. She wasn't stupid.

She tasked Martina to stay in the office and run the computers, and sometimes stayed behind alongside her, letting Gwen make the field decisions. Owen was still strangely passive when it came to command.

Owen was far more animated when he studied the Weevils with Martina. Tosh watched them frequently, muting the computer screen and watching their body language as she listened to some interminable UNIT meeting. He wanted to fuck Martina. It's obvious. What isn't obvious was what was going on when he stopped focusing on Martina and stared into the eyes of the Weevils.

Strange man.

Jack had been gone for three months. His office was starting to shape itself around Toshiko. She still kept the strange coral on its stand--and Ianto was right, it did glow when she fed it--but she had a steel wire organizer clamped to the right side over the drawers and she damn well used it, because life was too short not to know where her files were.

This morning--if it was still morning--she was giving a progress report to Dr. Jackson, Martina's supervisor. There are only so many ways to say "we haven't learned anything new yet," though, and she exhausted them all by the time she hung up. She sighed enormously and rolled her shoulders.

Ianto slipped in the door. "Coffee?"

"Yes, please."

"Foot massage?" He smiled, setting the tea tray on her desk. There's room, now that she's tidied up Jack's rubbish.

Tosh kicked off her shoes. "Yes, please."

Ianto pulled the blinds, then turned and gave her a smaller, wickeder smile. "Afternoon delight?" he asked.

"My god, is it afternoon?"

"Half one."

She dropped her head into her hands, rubbing at her temples. After a moment, she felt Ianto's hands on her neck, rubbing the tension away. "Yes," she said, deciding.

Ianto immediately dropped to his knees. Tosh stood, and their limbs tangled for a moment before Ianto realized her intent and slid his hands up her thighs to strip her panties off.

Tosh leaned forward over the desk, resting her head on her folded arms. Ianto knelt behind her and sucked her clit into his mouth.

She shaved now, or at least trimmed. Ianto complained the one time she shaved all the hair off entirely. She'd purchased some lovely panties. They were a regular pairing now.

Ianto's learned her completely. He worked her slowly, rubbing her clit with his tongue with no urgency at all. It was relaxing in a way massages never were for her. "Do you want to come back to mine tonight?" she asked.

"Absolutely," Ianto said.

*

"Status of ongoing projects?" Tosh asked. She looked around the conference table at the team.

"The archives are hopeless. I just found an entire room of papers that look like they were piled up by a leaf blower," Ianto said, and they all groaned. "No telling what's in there."

Tosh shook her head hopelessly. "Leave it. We don't have the manpower. If the Rift suddenly closes and we're sitting around twiddling our thumbs, we can do it then."

"We've been dissecting Weevils," Martina said. "Ben--you know, from the SGC, he's working on it too--he got a physical diagram of the Weevil brain and head from one of their doctors. So we're comparing, seeing if anything jumps out."

"Not so easy, since it's not a very detailed drawing," Owen said.

Martina nodded. "But better than nothing. We're still nailing down normal variation versus Rift alterations."

"Right, keep that up. Gwen?"

"I've been following up on old cases. There are hundreds of people running around Cardiff who have had major involvement in our doings, and we just don't know what's become of them," Gwen said.

Tosh nodded. Gwen had mentioned that to her. "Anything that needs attention?"

"Not so far. A lot of people in therapy, but..." She shrugged helplessly. "A lot of people in alien encounter support groups that we're monitoring already."

"Good. Good that there aren't any problems, I mean," Tosh said.

"And you, what are you doing?" Owen asked.

Tosh frowned at him. "Everything else! My God, do you know how many people call us every single day? The Prime Minister's office alone. The *budget.*" She made a face. London was coming back online, and they wanted their funding itemized down to the penny. They just weren't that organized in Cardiff.

"If anyone has some free time, I could use some help sorting ammunition. I don't think everything is in the right box," Ianto said.

"I'll do it," Gwen said.

"Anything else?" Tosh asked. "No? Good."

"We never had staff meetings when Jack was here," Owen grumbled as they all got up.

"Jack didn't sleep," Tosh replied. "He snooped your files all night. I have a life."

"I don't see what the big difference is. You're both shagging the same person." Owen's eyes flicked down Tosh's body and up Ianto's. Martina put her hand over her mouth and Tosh squared her shoulders, tamping down a blush at having her private relationships aired. He was just fighting to fight. She knew that. He did the same thing to all of them.

"Owen! They never," Gwen said.

"Well, yes. But Jack didn't bother to get undressed," Ianto said. He opened the conference room door and ushered Gwen out before him like a gentleman. Gwen punched him in the arm.

"Owen, stuff your jealousy. You had your chance." Tosh left the room, and Martina followed close after.

"Chance at Ianto or chance at you?" Martina whispered.

Tosh shook her head, still annoyed. "I really don't care."

*

Tosh braced her hands on the counter top and rode Ianto's cock like a hobbyhorse. The sex flush stretched from cheek to nipple on his pale skin. "You're very pretty," she panted.

"And you," Ianto said. She thought that's what he was saying, anyway. He was never very coherent during sex. She arched her back and leaned onto her elbows, giving him more of a show, and he whined in his throat and came.

Then Tosh's phone rang. "Oh, hell," she muttered. Ianto let her down onto her feet. The phone was on the counter next to her, in the pocket of her skirt, so she sat down on the kitchen chair and answered. "Hello?"

"Tosh, it's the gravity!" Martina said. Ianto sat in the chair next to Tosh and leaned his cheek on her bare back. She took his hand in hers, cupped against her thigh.

"Gravity?"

"The lower gravity sets their inner ear to spinning and makes them completely mad! Er, the Weevils, I mean."

"Right. One second." Tosh held the phone against her chest. "I can't talk to her naked. Can you get my dressing gown?"

"Sure," Ianto said. He headed back into the bedroom.

"Right, I'm back. You're sure about this?"

"You're naked?" Martina said.

"Oh, God." Tosh covered her face.

"Sorry, I have very good hearing. But it's okay--I mean, if I had a boyfriend that cute, I wouldn't be clothed ever--oh my God, that's so inappropriate. I'm so sorry."

"It's all right. Martina thinks you're gorgeous, Ianto," Tosh told him as he returned with her robe.

He smiled. "Tell her thank you." He draped it around her and embraced her with one arm.

"He says thank you," Tosh said. "But the Weevils? Gravity?"

"Oh! Yeah, um, it's like when we have an inner ear infection, we just can't process anything correctly. But them, you know, they're carnivores, so the instincts are different. It sends their adrenal systems into overdrive. Well, not the adrenal system. The zyglo system. So the spray Owen developed, you know, that calms them down by sedating them but doesn't address the underlying imbalance."

"Mm-hmm," Tosh said. Ianto was combing her hair with his fingers. It felt lovely.

"I think at the SGC we can synthesize something more targeted and bring back their sense of reason. Like an anti-psychotic. We might be able to just talk them down!"

"Marvelous!" Tosh said.

"And, uh--if you're naked, this must be a really bad time. Sorry."

"Quite all right," Tosh said.

"I think they'll still be at work at the mountain. Um, I'll just call them."

"Let me know what they say tomorrow morning."

"Yes. Yes. Sorry. Yes." Martina hung up. Tosh turned her phone off, smiling.

"Everyone's going to think I'm trying to sleep my way to the top," Ianto said.

"But you're in the same position you always had."

"Then they'll think I'm bad in bed," Ianto said.

Tosh embraced his waist and kissed his nipple. She cupped his arse and looked at her own hand, noticing first how rough the skin was around her nails--she needed a manicure badly--and second how oddly dark her hands seemed against the gleaming whiteness of his bum. Not a nude bather, Ianto. Not often nude at all. They had sex with their clothes on as often as not. "Does it really bother you?" Tosh asked.

"The team knowing?"

Tosh nodded against his chest.

"No. They know about Jack, and that was so much more fraught. It's much easier with you."

"Is it?"

"You're beautiful and I like you a great deal," Ianto said. "Easy." He leaned against her, warm and eager.

Tosh pulled him in closer with her legs. "Jack was difficult?"

"I hate him," Ianto said. "I'll never forgive him. And I love him and want him to live forever. He was Torchwood, an amazing, horrible mystery." Ianto shook his head, his eyes dark as pitch. "Alien," he said after a long pause.

She hugged him closer, held him. Sometimes you needed a human.

*

Martina sprayed some of the new Weevil mist into the air. "See, it doesn't affect us at all. Totally different chemical makeup. It should work right away if you spray towards the head. Of course, there's a margin of error depending on how agitated they are."

"Wouldn't be Torchwood without a margin of error," Gwen said. Martina smiled.

"Right. Let's move out," Tosh said. They were all in for this mission. They were headed right into a den of Weevils.

She'd expected Owen to object, actually. He was usually the first to complain about an excessively dangerous mission, but he was quiet and focused today. She kept an eye on him in the mirror as they drove down the waterfront.

"Ideally I want to talk to a matriarch. She's going to be older and calmer. You catch a disproportionate number of males--they actually produce two females to every male--so I think the females must be staying underground," Martina said. "Which is good. It shows they retain structure and don't completely lose their minds."

"I'm starting to feel bad for hunting them," Gwen said.

"It's policing," Tosh said. "If a man goes off his head and attacks you, it doesn't matter if he's gone off his medication; you have to shoot him or get hurt yourself. We're just trying to put them back on their meds."

"I don't hold it against you," Martina said.

There was a known nest in a storm sewer not far from the Hub. They parked at the mouth of the sewer and Tosh re-checked everyone's equipment. They all had small misters, but Ianto had a big wide-area dispersal gun. The hope was that they wouldn't have to engage the Weevils at all. "Ready?" she asked.

"Absolutely," Owen said. He headed down the massive pipe before Tosh even gave him the order. Tosh frowned to herself--Owen was a bit too keen on Weevil business--but this was not the time.

They all wore headlamps that lit the pipe up like daylight. Periodically, Martina growled out something that she said roughly translated as "we come in peace." It was quiet for a long way, though, a bit too long for Tosh's nerves.

And then a high voice replied as they neared a juncture in the pipes. "That's a child," Martina whispered. They all tensed.

The high voice called again, and then there was an ungodly howl that seemed to fill the pipe. "Ianto!" Tosh cried.

Ianto rushed forward and hosed down the pipe ahead of them with the big spray gun. Owen and Gwen covered him with their weapons, but they didn't see anything. Nothing to see.

A small figure ran out of the pipes and made a beeline for Owen. It rumbled and yowled like a dog; it was a child Weevil, maybe only a toddler. It wore a once-white Manchester United shirt that hung to its knees. As it reached Owen, its mother followed.

The team all braced themselves. Martina growled at her, and to Tosh's surprise, so did Owen. It sounded like he knew what he was saying, too.

Just as Tosh was bracing to shoot her, she stopped and looked at them. She chortled, twice, and the child broke away from Owen and ran to her. Martina growled rapidly, then holstered her gun and held out her hands.

"I've got you," Gwen whispered. Martina didn't answer. Her eyes were on the Weevil as the Weevil looked back at her.

Then the Weevil held out her hands as well, placing them briefly in Martina's. "Oh my God," Gwen breathed. Tosh let out a huge breath.

Owen holstered his gun as well. He bowed to the Weevil, who bowed back.

"It worked," Ianto said, looking at Tosh with his eyes as round as saucers.

*

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" Owen pointed at the CCTV feed. "The poster!"

"What?" Tosh poked her head out of her office.

"I just saw some bloke put up one of those missing posters! We can get his license plate!" Owen guided the computer with his fingertips on the touch screen, isolating and sharpening the view of the car. "Running it now. Got you, mystery man."

Gwen looked over Owen's other shoulder. The plate result came up in a moment.

"Don't start," Owen said.

Gwen was giggling madly. "And you call yourself a doctor! That's twice now!"

"She had broad shoulders!"

"Thank God you didn't go into gynecology," Gwen said, ducking back as Owen grabbed at her. Tosh looked at the name: Kathy Swanson. It looked familiar.

Another keystroke told her why: She worked for the police. She was, in fact, the one who had handled the Pilgrim murders. "Gwen, come on," Tosh called, and she got the keys to the car.

They caught up with DI Swanson in the car park as she returned from her flier excursion. "Can we have a word?" Tosh asked.

Swanson looked instantly defensive. "Do I have a choice?"

"It's a friendly talk," Gwen said, with a confirming glance toward Tosh.

"My history with Torchwood isn't all that friendly," Swanson said.

"We need you to stop putting up those fliers," Tosh said. "Please."

Swanson shut her mouth. A muscle twitched in her jaw.

"If he was in Cardiff, we would have found him by now. We have systems you haven't even heard of. He's gone, and we all miss him, but now it's up to him to find his way back," Tosh said.

Swanson glared down at the ground and back up again. "He has a missing persons file. He's an important missing person, it's an ongoing case."

"We can have the case reassigned, really," Gwen said.

Tosh said, "You're in murder, not missing persons. This isn't your case, this is personal."

"No. He's a prat," Swanson said.

"But she's right," Gwen said.

"I really don't like him," Swanson said.

"Yeah, but we love him anyway," Gwen said.

"Damn it." Swanson frowned at them both. "You're sure?"

"If he were findable we would be able to find him."

"He'll come back when he's good and ready," Tosh said. "I think he's on holiday."

"Without telling you?" Swanson snorted. "Typical."

"Not really," Gwen said.

Swanson stuck her hands in her pockets. "Tell me when you find him."

"We will," Tosh promised.

"So I can take his case off the books."

"Of course," Tosh said.

*

Tosh bought deep blue sheets because Ianto looked so lovely lying against them. He had bad dreams too frequently; he jerked and muttered "Lisa" against her back. If she stroked his hair, he would sigh and relax again.

If they shagged vigorously enough, they could both sleep through the night, but too often, she found herself awake in the small hours of the night. The Weevil sanctuary Martina was proposing; the prime minister's demands for more weapons, better security for Britain; the reconstruction of Torchwood One; Eddie, up in Torchwood Castle; what to do if the Hub was invaded again; ammunition for the less standard weapons in their arsenal; her galactic language database project; just where the hell Jack was, anyway.

If he'd been on holiday in the tropics all this time, she was going to kill him.

It was comforting to turn and stroke Ianto's hair, knowing that he shared every concern and that it would weigh on him just as heavily if she woke him up and told him about it. She didn't need to wake him up, though. Knowing was enough.

Tosh stroked his hair. He murmured and brushed the back of his hand against her breast.

*

The Weevil sanctuary was a simple affair. They set aside a building owned by Torchwood, with plenty of hunting capabilities in the bay, because they Weevils preferred to fend for themselves as much as possible; they supplied the matriarchs with the sanity spray, because they had the most influence over the others. They didn't like living on Earth and were delighted to know there was an option of returning home; some of them had lived in Cardiff for generations and only knew their home planet as a story told by grandmothers.

Martina was over the moon, of course. She was transmitting reams of material back to her boss in the States, and Torchwood One was delighted at her new approach to the extraterrestrial refugee problem. They would lose her soon to her own command of this project, Tosh was sure, and then what? It wasn't as if Torchwood had a proper hiring process.

She leaned back in her chair when Ianto came in with the coffee. He turned her to gain access to her shoulders and gave her a delicious neck rub. "Suggestions for hiring more people?" she asked him.

"I think we should. I can't keep up with the archiving and also go out in the field and also be a proper receptionist; there's nobody upstairs most days, which isn't very secure."

"You should stop making us coffee," Tosh said, though it broke her heart.

"But I like making you coffee." Ianto leaned over her, smiling. He tipped her chair backwards so he could kiss her, upside down.

Owen made smooching noises from his desk. "Close the door!" he yelled. Tosh replied with a rude V, and Owen snorted out a laugh. Ianto was smiling as he let her up.

"Now I know we're back to normal. Snogging in Jack's office," Gwen said. "Tosh, someone thinks they saw a blue box behind a Tesco's in Manchester. I just spotted it on that Doctor newsgroup, the less weird one. Think it's worth checking out?"

Tosh looked at the post. "You know, I met him once, during that first invasion in London."

"It's rather alarming that the London invasions are plural," Ianto said.

Tosh raised her eyebrows in agreement. The Slitheen, the Sycorax, and then the Cybermen and Daleks. She'd got out after the Sycorax; that was enough for her. "I don't think he's a threat," she said. "I think we should disregard reports of the Doctor for now. The Weevil situation is more pressing."

"Jack had us out the door at the word 'blue,'" Ianto pointed out. "If we find the Doctor, we might find him."

The Doctor's hand was missing. It was the only thing out of place after Jack's disappearance and the first thing they had all thought of. "I think he left of his own free will and he'll come back the same way. If he's in Manchester, he can call."

It had been eight months, which said it all, really.

*

Owen was down in the cells, having a chat with an obstreperous Weevil. They should probably come up with a different name for them, actually; "Weevil" was a bit rude.

Martina was at the sanctuary; Gwen was off recovering from a strained knee; Ianto was in reception, running the standard Internet chatter searches for the day. Everyone accounted for. God, that was a good feeling.

"Toshiko?" Ianto paged her from upstairs.

"Yes?" Tosh glanced at the alien tech scanner, which was clean, and switched over to her language database to see how Martina had progressed with the Weevil language transliteration. They only had two consonants but ten or eleven vowels, so they were down to numbers there...

"Are we free tonight?"

"Amazingly, yes, it seems that way. Why?"

"Would you like to go out to dinner with me?" Ianto asked.

Tosh smiled as the implication crept over her. "I would love to. Let me go home and get dressed."

"Dress for dancing," Ianto said, and Tosh looked in on him with the camera in time to see him smiling.

He brought her flowers--a bouquet *and* a corsage, which he slipped on her wrist with a kiss--and took her to a desperately upscale molecular gastronomy restaurant. "How long have you been planning this?" Tosh asked.

"Only two weeks." Ianto ran his thumb over her knuckles. He was quiet as they ordered, his eyes on her face.

"What?" Tosh asked.

"I had a speech. I've been rehearsing it. I was going to tell you how important you are to me. But now that I'm here--I'm so convinced something terrible is going to happen if I say it."

Lisa was a constant ghost hanging over Ianto's head. It had only been a year, and how long had they been together beforehand? "You don't have to say it," Tosh said. "I already know."

"Thank you," Ianto whispered, and he took her face in his hand and kissed her long and sweet.

*

They were running for the SUV when Gwen said "Oh my God, it's Jack."

Tosh whipped her head around. "Oh--God--stay right there! Don't leave!" she shouted. Jack spread his arms and jogged toward them, but they don't have time; they all piled into the car.

"Perhaps we should have taken him along," Gwen said.

"No. No time to explain," Tosh said. "He'll be there when we get back or he won't."

They drugged the Weevils into sanity with the dispersion gun and Martina explained the situation to them. It took twenty minutes to really get the idea across, but they all agreed to travel to Sanctuary, and Ianto cataloged them by name for the records.

When they returned to the Hub, Jack was sitting on the front step, eating chips. He gave them a reproachful look under his lashes as they walked up.

Tosh sat down next to him and leaned on his arm. He was strong as he ever was. He was even wearing the same shirt. The others stood around them in a half-circle, even Martina, who never met him. "So where were you?" she asked.

"An old friend came by."

"Yes, the Doctor, we know that. But where *were* you?"

"Oh. Other planets, shooting things, having adventures. But I missed you. All of you," he said, looking around.

"We didn't miss you a bit," Tosh said.

"Liar," Owen said.

"We missed you terribly," Tosh said. She kissed Jack's warm, salty mouth.

"Your filing system is abysmal," Ianto said. He leaned in for his own kiss and said, "I'm gutting the place. Starting over from scratch."

Owen leaned over and kissed, and kissed, and kissed Jack, long enough for Tosh to steal the rest of the paper tray of chips out of Jack's hand and split them with Gwen. When Owen straightened up, Jack's eyes were closed and there was a slight grin on his flushed pink lips. "That's a hello," Jack said.

"We had an emotional connection, you bastard," Owen said.

"Sorry," Jack said.

Owen looked around at them and scowls. "I'm going to *work.* We have *work,* you know."

"Yes, and no blokes on the team at all, it seems," Ianto said. Owen flipped him off as he pushed past Jack. The door was locked, though, so his huff wasn't quite as effective. Tosh handed him the keys.

"Hi," Martina said. "I'm Martina Reyes." She offered Jack her hand.

"Captain Jack Harkness, intergalactic adventurer." Jack took her hand and kissed it.

"It's not going to work. They have buckets of those where she comes from," Gwen said.

"Maybe, but they don't have the Captain." Jack grinned and Tosh would swear a shaft of sunlight glinted off his teeth. "It's good to be back. Ladies, Ianto." He stood and struck a pose.

"Well, we have five people, so I don't know if we need you back on the team," Tosh said.

Jack's face dropped to somewhere between hurt and annoyed. "That's not funny."

"Wasn't meant to be," Tosh said.

"I *am* Torchwood Three," Jack said.

"Well, not for the past year! You up and left and we've been doing very well without you. With Martina, we've got the Weevil problem nearly solved. The Rift is quiet--I've done tons of work on the Rift machine--the skies are clear, Torchwood One is rebuilding. We're fine. I don't know if we need you back professionally." Tosh crossed her arms and raised her chin. "We'll have to evaluate your real skills."

Jack raised his eyebrows. Tosh raised hers back. "This is mutiny," Jack said.

"Well, not really. I'm in charge now. I changed all the passwords, so if I lock you out, you can't get back in."

"I'll book you a hotel, Jack," Ianto said.

Jack looked from Tosh to Ianto and burst out laughing. He doubled over, hooting, and Tosh shrugged at Ianto and went inside.

She did let him in, in the end, but she gave the other option some thought.

*

"Tosh? What can I do to get you to do this stuff permanently?" Jack asked when he saw the past year's worth of work.

"What? All the administration?"

Jack folded his hands together prayerfully.

"My own office in the Hub, a proper secretary to free Ianto to do the archiving like he ought, and active duty replacements for me, Ianto, and Martina. We're losing Martina to the Sanctuary project next month. We just hammered out the agreement with the Americans," Tosh said. She didn't even have to think about it.

"Done. And thank you. For everything," Jack said. He took Tosh into his arms and gave her a long, swaying hug, his cheek resting on the top of her head. "I honestly only meant to be gone for a day," he said after a moment.

"I thought the Doctor had a time machine?"

"Yeah, but with a units problem."

"I see." Tosh listened to Jack's heart and forgave him, as if there were any other choice.

*

Around nine o'clock, after everyone else had the sense to go home, Ianto drew Toshiko aside in the autopsy room. "I don't know what to tell him. You know how he is, and I don't know what to say--" Ianto gestured frantically at nothing.

Tosh peeked into the main room. Jack was visible as a black outline in the conference room, where he was skimming a year's worth of news on the big monitors. "He's flirting with you and you don't know how to tell him that you're with me so hands off?"

"Yes. I can't--I've never done that--" His face clouded.

Tosh went up on her toes and kissed him. "You don't want to reject him, because you're in love with him, but you want to keep me as well," she said.

"Yes," Ianto sighed.

Tosh was surprised to realize that she wasn't jealous at all. Maybe it was Jack, or maybe it was this place... Before Torchwood, God--she'd never been at all gay, she'd never even shagged on the kitchen table, much less the public space of the office. She'd never even been with a younger man, come to think of it.

"It wasn't--" Ianto said, or tried to say. "He's Jack. It was--"

"What do you think of a threesome?" Tosh asked him.

Ianto stopped dead. His eyes widened, and then his face flamed bright red.

"I don't think I could be romantic with two men at the same time, but..." Tosh took his hands. "What do you think?"

"Yes," Ianto said, his voice cracking mid-vowel. He tugged at his trousers; he was hard. It had to be awful being a man sometimes.

Tosh touched her communicator. "Jack? It's late and we should be off. Would you like to come have sex with me and Ianto?"

"Yes," Jack said without a moment's hesitation. Tosh saw him hop up from the table and run down the stairs. "If I'm on Candid Camera, I'm going to cry, though. That's the best offer I've had in a long time. Ooh, you're really not kidding," he said when he saw Ianto's face.

Ianto cleared his throat, but didn't say anything, when Tosh tugged him up the stairs to meet Jack. His hand was sweaty in Tosh's.

"No, not kidding," Tosh said. "We're in a relationship, you should know that."

"I'm glad to hear it." And he grinned in a way that seemed sincere.

"But a nice relaxing shag, that's different."

"Completely. Are you okay?" Jack asked Ianto.

Ianto took a deep breath, shuddered over his entire body, and said, "Yes." Jack smiled and hooked a hand behind his head to draw him into a deep kiss.

Ianto was so beautiful, and Jack was beautiful in a different way. Ianto was her sweet boyfriend, and Jack--who knew. He was over 100 years old, she figured. They'd found his names in a 1957 paper payroll that was mysteriously missing from the computer archives, and Ianto was sure that he recognized Jack's handwriting on a label from 1912. Maybe he was one of those creatures like the fairies that came from the secret places of the world. Maybe he was an alien himself and hid it better than the rest. She didn't care, really, except to satisfy her curiosity. He was Jack.

"Mmm. I missed you," Jack murmured, and then he pulled Tosh in close and kissed her just as hard. Just as much--interest, as much--that was his hand on her breast, and she was perfectly all right with that. Her eyes were closed, and his cheek was prickly and unshaven, and his tongue was making promises.

"Right, I'm in," Tosh sighed when he let her go.

"Yes, likewise," Ianto said. He was bent over slightly, tugging desperately at his trousers.

"I don't think he can walk," Jack said to Tosh.

"Go on, then," Tosh said, and Jack grinned with all his shining teeth and fell to his knees right there on the stair landing. Tosh kissed Ianto's cheek and pushed his shirt up past his belly; Ianto grabbed her other hand and held on, watching her with huge, passion-dilated eyes.

"Show me your mastery of the cock," Tosh said to Jack.

Jack laughed. "I'm no master. Just an enthusiastic amateur," he said as he opened Ianto's trousers.

Ianto's cock bobbed free and Jack darted his tongue out to tease it. Tosh tugged on Ianto's shirt and popped each button open with a short, sharp tug; he caught his breath with each small release and his cock pulsed against Jack's lip. Jack glanced up at Tosh, and Tosh smiled happily. She was finding that she liked this tag-team business.

When Jack took his cock in his mouth, Ianto groaned. The pterodactyl scolded in reply from the other room and Tosh realized she was going to have to do a hell of an edit job on the cameras. Didn't matter now, though. Now she was embracing Ianto as he shivered and watching Jack slide Ianto's cock deeper into his throat than she had ever been able to manage. She saw him swallow and Ianto made a small, high noise.

"Hold on," she murmured to him.

"Yeah?" He sounded desperate.

"Just for a moment. Make it last. I love watching you come undone," she said. Ianto swallowed hard and nodded.

Jack shifted, stroking Ianto slowly with his fist and kissing the tender tip with lips and tongue. His other hand rested on Ianto's hip, his thumb stroking the sharp crease of his hip in time. Tosh kissed him, taking Ianto's jaw and his waist and holding him close so he could lean on her. His eyes were on her, his mouth red and open, his naked chest heaving for air.

Jack sped up, gradually, and Ianto bit his lip and thrust into his hands. "Not yet," Tosh murmured, and Ianto screwed his eyes shut. Jack took his hand off Ianto's cock and touched Tosh's leg; she was wearing trousers, bad luck, but he ran his knuckles up the inside of her thigh like a naughty promise.

She desperately wanted them in her bed, on her dark blue sheets, and she wanted to be naked, and she couldn't do that here. "All right, now," she told Ianto, and Ianto opened his mouth with a pained cry and came on Jack's face. He shook violently; his knees buckled and he slid out of Tosh's arms and into Jack's lap.

"Come here, come here," Jack said, holding Ianto tenderly to his shoulder. "I missed you too. God, I missed you guys."

Tosh pulled the handkerchief from Ianto's back pocket and knelt down to clean off Jack's face. "Sorry," she said. There was come on his cheek, nearly in his eye.

"Absolutely not. That was *great.*" Jack beamed at her over Ianto's head.

"I think I broke something," Ianto said plaintively. He was clinging to Jack's shirt, half hiding his face. His trousers were still around his knees.

"I have to wipe the cameras before we go," Tosh said, and she left them there for a minute. She didn't wipe the files, though; she saved them to her private folder. Well, they were from a different angle, and she wanted to take another look later...

"Bad girl. I'm going to tell your boss," Jack growled in her ear. Ianto leaned against her desk and drank a bottle of water, looking exhausted.

"If I give him a copy, I'm sure he won't mind," Tosh replied.

"Ooh." Jack kissed her earlobe.

And Jack drove them to her flat while Tosh hid her face in Ianto's shirt. Jack's flagrant disregard for traffic laws seemed quite a bit less endearing now that she knew he couldn't die.

Jack started stripping off his clothes as soon as they got inside. Ianto passed her another bottle of water and they both watched him unbutton his shirt showily. "I don't know what I want to do next," Tosh said, bumping Ianto's shoulder with her own. She could feel her heartbeat between her legs, feel the heat growing stronger as she considered her beautiful boyfriend and her beautiful boss standing there, so ready, before her. Ianto's mouth was red and swollen where he'd bitten himself. Jack's eyes were dilated, dark, and glittering, and she could see his erection pressing against the heavy cloth of his trousers. She watched his hands move against his own chest and wanted them on her own.

Ianto stroked her back, waking up nerve endings with every touch of his hand. "Make a list?"

"I love first times. Anything new?" Jack asked with a broad grin.

Of course there were any number of things she hadn't done, but she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to do a number of them, and she wasn't sure she could say several more of them aloud. Instead, she looked at Ianto with raised eyebrows. It was a bit cowardly, she knew, but it was Ianto who had the history with him.

"I..." Ianto trailed off. "I'm like a dog with two bones. I can't decide."

Jack tossed both his shirts onto a chair. He strode across the room and swept Tosh into his arms, making her squeak out "Jack!" He carried her off as if she weighed nothing at all.

"I may have forgotten to mention that Jack can be assertive in bed," Ianto said, following them into the bedroom.

Jack set her on the bed and stayed there, bent over, propped up with a hand on either side of her head. "I want to taste you," he said. "I want to watch Ianto undress you and I want your thighs on my shoulders and I want Ianto to fuck me. That's what I want. But I'm easy," he said, grinning broadly again. He did have very white teeth.

"I... don't have a single objection," Tosh said. Her clit was throbbing too hard to think.

But she didn't have to think. In fact, marvelous things still happened after she closed her eyes and relaxed. She came with Jack's mouth on her clit and Ianto's on her breast, first, and then kissed Ianto, coaxing him into hardness with her fingers and her thigh, while Jack tried to get her to ejaculate. He failed, but the attempt was fun.

He hadn't entirely given up when Ianto lifted his head and kissed him deeply. "I'm ready," Ianto said.

Jack lay half on top of her, one leg over both hers, his eyes half-closed and his hand distractedly working her nipple, as Ianto opened up his arse. "This feels so good," Jack said to her, sounding surprised. "I can't think why we never did this before."

Tosh curled her arm around his head and kissed his nose. His cock burned against her thigh. "Can't be caught with your pants down when you're the boss," she said.

"No, I guess not." His eyes roamed over her face. "You've done a good job."

"I know."

Jack grinned.

He went up on his knees and put his head down on the bed when Ianto penetrated him. Tosh was caught by the look on Ianto's face, the same concentration that he had when he fucked her, and the care in the motion of his hips. He was thrusting into Jack so much more gently than he thrust into her--well, of course; her vagina was designed for this, and Jack's arse wasn't. Watching that control was wonderful, though.

Tosh knelt up and kissed him. He tasted like water and smelled like sweat and sex. "Love you," she said into his mouth.

Ianto laughed. "What?" she asked, but he only shook his head and grinned, looking down at Jack's backside. And, all right, watching his cock appear and disappear from Jack's lovely, round bottom was really... Tosh blinked and reclined again to kiss Jack.

Jack leaned in toward her, his eyes closing, his strong teeth nipping gently at her bottom lip. "Toshiko," he groaned, "Toshiko, Ianto!"

"Yes?"

"Hnnn" was all he could manage before he was shifting and reaching down for his cock. Tosh stopped his hand, cupping her own palm against his erection instead, feeling the sweat-slippery hardness of him on her sensitive fingertips.

She couldn't see his face when he came, but she could see Ianto's. He looked like he was in heaven.

Ianto went out like a light afterwards. He sprawled across half the bed, one hand dangling over the edge into the air, which he would normally find intolerable. Tosh rolled him over onto his side to make room for herself and he didn't even mumble, just lolled like a big doll.

Jack lay on his back on the other side of the bed, rubbing one hand across his forehead. Just as Ianto had told her all those months ago, his entire body was decoratively trimmed: a dark shadow under his arms, a line down his chest, another shaped line leading to his cock, and his balls entirely bare. His legs were left alone, at least. Tosh wondered where he went to do all that, or was there some alien device? Martian Home Waxer?

But she didn't ask. She nestled in beside him, one hand between her legs--one more orgasm, she could feel it inside her--and he embraced her, twining his hand with hers, and stroked her clit with two fingers, his eyes closed and a sweet smile on his face.

*

"New girl today. Brace yourself," Ianto announced as he brought in the coffee. And in fact, they heard the arguing even before the main door opened.

"--Bringing me down to show me your underground base? God, you think you're so impressive," DI Swanson said to Jack.

"I do, actually. Have a look." Jack stepped into the main room and surreptitiously hit the button that summoned the pterodactyl.

The pterodactyl screeched and swooped down from her perch. Swanson stopped dead three steps into the Hub and looked. She turned in a slow circle as the others hid their smiles.

Tosh rolled back her chair in her new office, which had been glassed in at the opposite end of the main work space from Jack's. Jack said she could have a manhole if she wanted one, but he didn't recommend it; it was a bit dank and the cover was a tripping hazard.

Good sign that Jack had been able to get her this far, though Tosh still wondered if she should have done this bit of recruiting herself. Swanson had been at the top of her list for the precise reason that she wasn't charmed by Jack. Well, it seemed to be working out. The new receptionist upstairs, though, the poor man had looked like he was having a sexual identity crisis every day his first week on the job. Bobby was another Torchwood London recruit, like Ianto, but without the baggage. They'd watched the monitors carefully to be sure.

Gwen and Owen were making bets on Swanson over the instant messenger. Owen had fifty quid on Swanson decking Jack, while Gwen put her money on tears.

"Milk and no sugar," Ianto said. "Milk only because her stomach hurts otherwise. Mark my words."

"I believe you," Tosh said. She patted his bum and he caressed her earlobe in response.

The pterodactyl perched on a rafter and scolded Jack. She shifted from foot to foot, and thank goodness, Jack recognized the signs and pulled Swanson aside right before the pterodactyl crapped on their heads. Ianto sighed, even though they had someone else to do the cleaning-up now.

"My. Flipping. Christ. This is what you do?" Swanson shouted. "Aliens and pterodactyls and--they let you lot do this? You?"

Jack laughed.

Owen claimed that as victory, due to Swanson's clenched fists. Gwen denied it vigorously, looking daggers at him as her hands typed rapid-fire. Tosh wondered if they were still sleeping together, if there was anyone in Torchwood that didn't want to shag some other teammate. Probably not.

"Of course I'll take the job! You have to get someone in here who isn't completely incompetent and *insane.*" Ianto vibrated with silent laughter beside her at that.

"Welcome to Torchwood," Jack said.

The end.