First Time for Everything, Chapter 3d

[criccieth]

Series: First Time for Everything.
Part: Three, Section D
Word Count: circa 8,000
Title: Touch - Ianto
Spoilers: This chapter, Fragments only.
Rating: Hard R for this chapter: WARNING: explicit descriptions of spousal abuse: physical and sexual. Implications of childhood abuse.
Thanks: To the wonderful betas: madtheo, used_songs and travellingone, who didn't run from the size of the task!
Pairing: Ianto/Lisa, implied Suzie/Owen, Jack/Ianto (inneundo/flirting); Ianto/OMCs and OFC (historical)
Disclaimer: The Torchwood idea and characters were created by RTD and belong to the BBC.



Continued from Section C: http://criccieth.livejournal.com/4528.html
Previously:
“Look after her,” he snaps out. Keith looks over at him.

“You going to try and talk to Harkness?”

“You might say that.”

He snatches up the intercept and heads out of the ward.

He walks straight to the bathroom and starts pulling the blue suit from the bag. Blue suit, white shirt, matching tie. It’s one of the cheap ones; the decent ensembles are still back in the flat - or were. God alone knows what the landlady has done in the absence of a month’s rent and any tenants, but Ianto has had more important things on his mind than a flat over a hundred miles away. Reluctantly, he takes off the necklace and places it carefully back in the suitcase and then transfers wallet and stopwatch to his hip pockets.

It’s clear from their first two meetings that by himself, he’s not enough to override the Captain’s disdain for London. But with a second lure to dangle in front of Harkness’s face, so to speak, he might actually be able to make use of that hatred.

He stares at his reflection in the small mirror. It was only at Torchwood that he started wearing a suit, and even then only when he transferred after… it was a disguise, in those first few weeks at Research. A disguise that allowed him to blend in, to disappear. To hide. When everyone was looking at him out of the corner of their eye, when everyone was muttering about Team Seventeen and Incident 456.89/TY.B05 - it helped. Dressed like everyone else, he could try and pretend he was like everyone else. Hide behind the outfit and imagine the past had never happened. And now - now he’s going to play the London suit and hopefully goad Harkness into playing the Cardiff rogue. Let the Captain show off a little. Let him prove to Ianto how much better Cardiff is and perhaps the man will condescend to take in a stray. Especially if he continues to let Harkness know just what is on offer.

Whore , Oliver’s voice hisses. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows what he is and it no longer matters. You’re dead, Oliver. You’re dead. Now fucking well be dead, and leave me alone.

He slips the intercept into one inner pocket and the locator into another before picking up the energy scanner, then heads out of the hospital. He takes the van this time, not willing to risk the suit to the delights of the bike. The van has a hands-free set and it takes only a few minutes to get the intercept wired in. The Rift surge is a couple of miles from where they are, but Harkness has further to travel. He makes one brief stop on the way for the necessary dark chocolate and a few minutes later pulls up at the site, down behind an abandoned church. With the scanner, it doesn’t take long to find what came through the Rift: a paperbacked sized creature that rather resembles an armadillo. It’s dead, though whether because of damage done by the Rift or because it found itself in an environment that was toxic to its species he has no clue. He leaves it where he found it and gets back into the van, sitting and listening to the soft static of the intercept while watching for the SUV.

They brought her up from London in this van. The unit took up almost every inch of space in the back - their things went next to whoever was driving, with the other man riding the bike. It’s hardly been touched in the eight weeks since, but it will come in handy to get her into the Hub. After that, his plan is set. Retcon Keith and drop him and the bike up in the valleys. Leave Keith at the roadside with the suggestion of a few weeks spent wandering the country trying to get over Lisa’s death and a dim ‘memory’ of getting hammered. Then take the van somewhere else, Swansea probably, and leave it standing unlocked, keys obvious. It’ll get nicked before he’s back in Cardiff. Keith will take himself home to London and…

The intercept sputters into life once more and he sits up, listening.

“Jack?”

“Tosh!”

“We’ve run an initial interpretative scan on the hieroglyphics and it might be bad news.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Well, there’s a possible match between this set of writing and something the database has shown should be in the Archives - logged as an attack craft.”

“‘Should’?”

“Yes well, Jack, you know the Archives…”

“Time and place, Tosh. What’s in the Archives?”

“That’s just it, we’re not sure. The database has flagged up an electronic file, but it’s a pretty basic one. Apparently some sort of craft was found during an archaeological dig in the Brecon Beacons. There was evidence that the craft dated from around the time an entire village disappeared overnight. The file says there was “evidence” of chemical weapons and there’s a list of the chemicals involved. It also gives the dimensions of the craft - about 33% bigger than what Owen brought in earlier. But that’s all that’s on the electronic file, it refers me to the Secure Archives. I’ll need the code if you want me to go and have a look now.” Ianto shifts slightly in his seat, suddenly apprehensive. In London, of course, access to the Secure Archives was restricted. He’d hoped it was different here, with the team being so small, but it sounds like he was wrong. Damn.

“So what you’re telling me is that this thing that came through the Rift today might be a match for something we have in the Archives?” Unless Ianto is missing his guess, Harkness has just avoided making an outright refusal to give Sato that code.

“Yes.” Sato doesn’t sound the least bit surprised at that avoidance. Is she the only one who is denied access to the Secured files? Ianto gnaws on his lower lip for a second. That could be a problem - he needs access to everything in the Hub.

“Ok, I’m nearly at the location.” Ianto removes the intercept from the hands-free kit and climbs from the van into the steady rain, moving down to the main road. His heart is pounding, and he can feel cold sweat sliding down his spine. If this roll of the dice fails, he has no idea what else he can try. He’s already tried outright begging.

It’s nearly one in the morning by now and the road seems empty, but a moment or so later he sees lights in the distance just as Harkness’s voice comes over the intercept once again, rapping out orders to each of the team in the tone of a man checking items from a mental ‘to do’ list.

“Toshiko, see if you can decode those hieroglyphics.”

“Already on it.”

“Owen, take a cross section of the paramedic's brain, check it against the list of chemical agents.”

“Will do.” The lights are getting closer now and through the hiss of the rain he can hear the now-familiar sound of the SUV’s engine.

“Suzie, we're going to need to dredge the reservoir. See if you can find the other half…”

As he steps out into the road, he slips the intercept into his pocket. A screech of brakes sounds as Harkness brings the car to a halt just a few feet from him. For just a second, he regrets that the man’s reactions are so good. Then he curses himself for his cowardice. Lisa is still fighting - he has no right to want to give up.

There’s a moment’s pause, and although he can’t see past the headlights, he assumes Harkness is taking in exactly who it is standing in the road because the door is thrown open and Harkness launches himself out of the car, slamming the door with a vengance. As he comes marching towards Ianto, his face becomes discernable. To say he’s pissed off would be an understatement, and for a moment Ianto’s breath seems to catch in his chest. He remembers what used to happen when Oliver came home that livid and the recollection has him almost ready to run, adreneline surging through him. But he shoves the memories away, pushing them back down into the pit that opened this morning. He won’t let the past control him. He almost let that happen earlier and he can’t let himself go to pieces again now.

“OK, this has to stop.” Harkness sounds one step away from threatening, as though he’s preparing for a “last chance” conversation. Clearly, he is in no mood to listen to a reasoned explanation as to why Ianto is flagging down the head of Torchwood Cardiff. So….

“No, listen to me….” Not that he expects Harkness to, but the man clearly feels a need to rant, and unless the venting goes from verbal to physical, Ianto may as well let him get it all out, as it were. It makes it more likely the man will actually listen when Ianto brings out the pièce de résistance of the pteranodon.

“I don't have time for this. Look, I don't care what your problem is I want you out of this city by sunrise. There is no place for you here. Go back to London, find yourself another life. Keep stalking me, I'll wipe your memory.” At any other time, the arrogance and callousness displayed in those few words would have raised Ianto’s hackles - being told to leave his home city and return to the place he’s fled is bad enough, but for Harkness, who had offered his token sorrow for Lisa just hours earlier, to tell him to ‘find another life’ speaks volumes about the Captain. But just now, he needs to get Harkness exactly where he wants him.

“No, but the thing is...” A gentle prod, a deliberate meaningless phrase and Harkness draws breath and continues to snarl.

“Any conversation between us, no matter what the subject, is over! Finished! Done! Forever! I'm getting back behind the wheel of that car and if you're still standing in the road, I'm going to drive through you.” And, having apparently finally completed his little tantrum, Harkness turns round and starts to stalk away. And Ianto plays the card he knows Harkness, as the defender of ‘this city’ and the superior to London he clearly sees himself as, cannot possibly ignore.

“You're not gonna help me catch this pterodactyl then?” His wording is deliberate. Makes it clear that, despite the fact he’s just been ordered from the city, he has no intention of leaving when there is something to be dealt with. Makes it clear that this upstart from London will deal with the issue regardless of what Captain Jack Harkness wants. Makes it clear that, whatever Harkness may think about him, he is still Torchwood. All to lure Harkness in.

Harkness stops in his tracks, spins on the spot and stares straight at him.

“What?”

“A pterodactyl,” Ianto repeats calmly. “It’s not going anywhere just yet, but it might cause a bit of a fuss when it starts trying to break out.”

Harkness strides back towards him, and for the first time it is the Captain who breaks the boundaries of personal space, closing in until he is scant inches from the Welshman. Fortunately, he’s only an inch or so taller and Ianto can meet his eyes with only a slight tilt of his head.

“Starts trying to break out from where?”

“I can give you precise directions on the way.” Ianto nods to the SUV still standing, engine running and wipers going, just behind the bigger man. Harkness glares at him.

“Or you could just tell me right now and have done with it.”

He shakes his head wordlessly and Harkness steps even closer, so close now that Ianto can see the anger snapping in the blue eyes. “Listen to me, Ianto Jones, I don’t have…”

Ianto cuts him off - something that doesn’t happen very often to the great Captain Harkness, from the look of shock on his face. “Time for this. Yes, you said. So shall we get on? Go pterodactyl hunting?”

“Together?” The shock is fading from the other man’s face and the anger is leaching away too. Ianto smiles, and even though Harkness is now far closer than social niceties deem men may be to each other, he pointedly does not step back. He keeps his voice quiet and low, but puts no emotion into his words, letting Harkness read whatever he chooses to. Of course, this is Harkness so there’s not many prizes for guessing what the man will read into what he hears.

“Do you have a problem with us being together, Captain?” It is, he realises suddenly, the first time he’s actually called Harkness anything and it’s impossible to miss the sudden spark of interest in the other’s gaze.

Harkness draws breath to answer and then his focus suddenly shifts to what appears to be Ianto’s shoulder. It’s only when the other man reaches a hand to his own ear that Ianto realises someone from the Hub has spoken over the earpiece. He steps back smoothly, returning them to a more socially acceptable distance and puts his hands in his pockets, watching silently. One hand grips the stopwatch tightly and the other traces the outline of the medallion through the leather wallet.

“Tosh?” Harkness nods, as one is wont to do even when on the phone. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out what is clearly, from its close resemblance to the device currently in Ianto’s inner jacket pocket, a Meson Energy Scanner. “Yes, I’m on-site. I…” Suddenly, his head turns and he stares thoughtfully at Ianto. Then he seems to return his attention to the earpiece.

“Hang on…” As the small Rift-visitor is just a few metres away, it doesn’t take long for Harkness to find it. Ianto stays where he is, watching as Harkness yanks a torch from somewhere inside his coat and shines it onto the creature before checking the scanner. He shoves both torch and scanner back into his pockets before picking up the dead animal. He looks it over and sighs before tapping the earpiece again to restore his connection to the Hub.

“A Dekelorian. Semi-intelligent little things, but they need an atmosphere far higher in oxygen than Earth. It basically suffocated within a few minutes of coming through. Damn, I hate it when that happens.” Whatever Sato has to say, Ianto doesn’t hear, but Harkness shakes his head. “Nah, no danger. We can just file a report for the Archives.” There is a momentary pause and Harkness turns and starts to walk back toward where Ianto is still standing, the coat flaring and billowing around him. “Tosh, listen. I’m not coming straight back. No, it’s fine, just….” He meets Ianto’s gaze. “Something came up. I’ll check in later.”

His hand drops from the earpiece and he marches back up the pavement, passing Ianto with no reaction other than a swift sideways jerk of his head. Assuming this to be a signal, Ianto follows him calmly to the SUV. Harkness walks around the front to the driver’s side and gets in and Ianto silently climbs in on the passenger side. Harkness reaches behind them and dumps the little body onto the backseat before shoving the car into gear and accelerating sharply enough that Ianto is pushed back against the seat. He still says nothing, just reaches up and puts the seatbelt on. The ‘click’ as it snaps home sounds loud in the SUV and Harkness looks across at him, smirking.

“Worried about my driving, Ianto Jones?”

“It’s not the driving that worries me, Captain Harkness. It’s the risk of a rather sudden stop.”

There is a soft breath of laugher from beside him.

“So - directions?”

Ianto gives the directions precisly, quietly, annoucing each turn or change of lane as it becomes important. He knows exactly where he’s going and what he’s doing and so far, things are going worlds better than they did earlier.

It doesn’t take long before the ramshackle maze of warehouses comes into view on the right. He makes sure he doesn’t look left, to the field where the Rift incursion was earlier in the day, just directs Harkness with a few more words to the warehouse where he caged the dinosaur hours earlier. The fact that he is actually bringing Harkness to within a mile of Lisa’s hiding place makes his heart hammer against the walls of his chest but if this works, the Captain will be even closer to her so…

Harkness stops the SUV and turns in his seat to consider Ianto. He hestiates for a moment, then gets out of the car, Ianto a step behind. The Captain goes to the boot and yanks it open, removing a small black case, then strips off the greatcoat, dumping it in the empty compartment. Disengaging the lock, Harkness opens the case to reveal the makings of a large hypodermic. Ianto watches as the other man starts piecing it together.

“OK, that is the only special equipment you've got?” He can hear the disbelief in his own voice, but he’s seen this creature and he’s not really sure quite where or how Harkness thinks he’s going to inject the brute. Harkness glances across at him, looking as though he can’t see Ianto’s point.

“Yeah, cos I keep dinosaur nets in the back of the SUV.” There is more than a touch of sarcasm to his voice and Ianto gives a faint shrug and lets an almost sullen tone enter his own tone in response.

“Torchwood London would've.” Well, it’s almost true - Weevil nets were standard issue. Harkness glares at him at the mention of London and Ianto smirks inwardly. Harkness, it would seem, is the kind of man who can’t resist butting antlers.

The older man heads for the nearest door and Ianto follows, wondering briefly what exactly Harkness is planning. There is a moment of silence as the Captain reaches out to the door and Ianto just has time to realise that planning might not actually be the other’s strong point when Harkness throws open the barrier and charges through it. Ianto follows right alongside, ignoring the part of him that is shouting about how foolhardy the action is - after all, the whole point of this little escapade is to allow Harkness to call the shots. But neither of them exactly banked on the pterodactyl spotting them so soon and it swoops straight for them, long clawed legs sweeping over the floor and beak open wide.

“Nope.” Without thinking, Ianto grabs the other man by the shoulder and they both stumble backward through the door again, the Welshman yanking it shut just before the creature hits it with a thump.

They stand side by side, shoulders almost touching, leaning on the door. Ianto takes a deep breath and realises that there is that smell again; that mix of wool, leather and cinnamon, and overlaying them all, the scent he can’t put a finger to. Standing here close to Harkness, with the adrenalin still flooding through him, the smell is enough to make his mouth go dry and start the first tendrils of arousal fluttering under his skin.

There is a clear note of excitement in Harkness’s voice when he speaks. “How did you find it?”

Eh? Oh! Well, let’s go with a little honesty, shall we? “Rift activity locator.”

Harkness nods briefly and throws him a quick glance. “Torchwood London.” There is a very faint question hidden in there and Ianto gives one nod in answer. They both know the only way a junior researcher would have something like that is by theft.

“See, quality kit.” He plays again on the man’s pride, reminding him London has the toys - but Cardiff now has the chance to bag the prize.

“Yeah.” Harkness turns slightly back towards the door they are both leaning on. “It's quite excitable.”

“Must be your aftershave.” It’s intended as a line, a joke. Harkness’s answer is almost absent minded.

“Never wear any.”

“You smell like that naturally?” The words slip out, but they don’t exactly do his cause any harm. He throws a quick glance at the other man and sees the hint of a smirk. Hardly surprising - it’s not exactly a normal conversational snippet, especially between men. But it will work to keep Harkness thinking about Ianto along certain lines. Ensure that ‘Ianto Jones’ is in the Captain’s mental files under one category, and it is unlikely to occur to the man that he could be anything else.

“Fifty-first century pheromones.” Ianto blinks and starts to look at the other man. What the… Harkness grins briefly. “You people have no idea. Ready for another go?”

Putting that right beside disappearing Weevil bites in his mental “Harkness File”, Ianto shrugs and nods. “I'm game if you are.”

“Three, two, one...” Harkness throws the door open once more and they race back through, Harkness slamming it shut behind them. Up above, the pterodactyl shrieks and dives down towards the two men.

“Split up!” Harkness shouts, and Ianto complies without thinking, racing away from Harkness as fast as he can in shoes that threaten to slip on the smooth floor. He hears a wild yell and realises with some surprise it came from himself. The tension of the last few hours, the stress of the long day with all its memories and alarms seems to find some small measure of release in the sudden motion and noise.

They reach each other on the far side of the floor moments after the dinosaur lands right near the door, cutting off their only exit. Harkness shoots a hand out and grabs Ianto’s arm, drawing him along as he steps forward slowly. The Captain is grinning and he stares straight at the creature as it stand on the floor, flexing its wings.

“We're not gonna harm you.” He’s talking to the pterodactyl, of all things. There is reassurance in his voice along with excitement and anticipation. “You can't stay here. Come back with me. I've got somewhere nice and big where you can fly around.”

“OK, so you'll let the pterodactyl in and not me.” Ianto doesn’t have to look very hard to find the slight snap he puts into his voice. He wants Harkness in a good mood, wants the man to feel extravagant, gracious. The whole objective is to get Harkness to the point where he will condescend to say ‘yes’. But even so, the fact that Harkness will take in a flying dinosaur without batting an eyelid while Ianto is ignored, rankles.

“We need a guard dog,” Harkness says, but there just the tiniest defensive note in his voice and Ianto grabs onto it, letting it sound like he’s almost rambling. It’s obvious from what he overheard earlier that work goes undone in the Hub because no-one wants it as their job, but he ignores the idea of the Archives or the database - too high a risk of awakening the other’s disdain for all things London. Not to mention the risk of making Harkness wonder why he wants access to those secrets. Go for the nitty-gritty instead.

“I can be that.” His voice is a harsh, eager whisper. “Like a receptionist. Building maintenance, food and drink, dry cleaning even. That coat of yours must take a battering. Like a butler, I could be a butler.” And dear God, but the stress must be getting to him because that last wasn’t half crap.

“We don't need a butler.” Harkness sounds too ready to dismiss the whole vague idea as he moves forward and Ianto reaches out and grabs his arm, jabbing a finger in the direction of the coat.

“Excuse me, dried egg on your collar.”

“It was a busy week.” But the defensive note is back. The seed’s been planted but nothing’s going to come of it if everything else goes to hell, so Ianto changes the subject, yanking Harkness back slightly to hiss at him. They’re both automatically keeping their voices low and so far, the dinosaur is just standing there, watching them.

“What exactly is your plan?” Once again, Harkness shows a clear dislike for others getting close to him as he yanks his arm free. The sudden move makes the pterodactyl flare its wings and it screeches again.

“I'm going to be the decoy,” Harkness says calmly.

Oh for God’s sake, I’ve heard of showing off, but… “And it will rip you to shreds,” Ianto says, trying not to sound as though he’s speaking to a child, but if Harkness can’t see the risk….

“Dinosaurs?” Harkness grins, sounds dismissive. “Had 'em for breakfast. Had to, only source of pre-killed food protein after the asteroid crashed.” Ianto starts to look at him, now becoming convinced that every word out of Harkness’s mouth needs to be examined for any remaining signs of sanity, but Harkness is continuing to speak. “Long story. Here you go.” He shoves the syringe into Ianto’s hands and Ianto stares at it, wondering whether Harkness is attempting to compensate for something.

“One injection to the central nervous cortex. I'll keep it occupied.” Harkness taps his fist against Ianto’s chest, clearly feeling the need to make sure neither of them forget who (he thinks) is in charge. “Move.”

“No.” The word is rather more abrupt than Ianto intended, but the plan is so ludicrous that it’s out before he can think of a better way of phrasing it. Damn it, he has to stop letting Harkness unsettle him; has to stop opening his mouth before he’s thought things through. Trying to avoid Oliver’s beatings taught him to think over every word and gesture before he spoke or moved, but it’s a lesson he seems to have forgotten lately. It’s one he'd better relearn fast or he’ll be sentencing both Lisa and himself to death.

“What?” Harkness seems more startled than angered by Ianto’s refusal. He looks at his accomplice, actually focusing on Ianto for the first time since they entered the warehouse. Ianto grabs the chance and hands the syringe back.

“It knows me.” Well, it’s seen me before. Does that count? “I'll be a better decoy.”

“No, way too dangerous.” The refusal, the single phrase, is enough to make Ianto want to sag in relief. He remembers that tone from when he was in the field with Becca and the rest. Right now, Harkness has forgotten all about London and Cardiff. He’s operating and thinking as though they are a team. He’s seeing Ianto as a member of that team, which means someone he has authority over and responsbility for. And once he has started to think of Ianto like that, it will be difficult to switch off and return to the standpoint of ordering the interloper to leave.

But the job itself, the job the team has formed for, still needs to be done and he has an advantage Harkness doesn’t.

“No, I've got a secret weapon. Chocolate.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the bar he bought earlier, hefting it so the Captain can see it. “Preferably dark.” He slips away without another word, leaving Harkness standing, holding the syringe and wearing an expression that is probably not too far from that on Ianto’s face over the earlier meteorite comment. Seemingly cottoning on, Harkness suddenly begins to move too, hurrying in the opposite direction.

Ianto whistles softly, getting the pteranodon’s attention onto himself. He calls out, keeping his voice soft, trying not to appear threatening. “I got your favourite, yeah.” Beyond it, he can see Harkness stepping closer, the syringe in one hand.

Ianto gently tosses the chocolate bar onto the floor, hoping the creature remembers that he’s the one who handed out something that tasted good earlier. “It's good for your serotonin levels,” he says, still moving, still keeping the creature’s attention focused on himself and the chocolate, and away from Harkness. “If you've…got serotonin levels.” Suppose it might not. Endorphins then?

The dinosaur pecks at the bar and then…looking back even years later, he never does quite remember what triggered the change - perhaps Jack made a noise, or maybe Myfanwy just picked up on the tension in the air. All he knew at the time was that standing there in the warehouse, something makes the creature turn and it sees Harkness. For a second, he sees a clear “ah, shit!” expression come over Harkness’s face and then the other man runs forward, trying to get close enough and there is a rush of air and the next thing he knows, the pterodactyl is up in the air and Harkness is dangling from its clawed feet.

“Whoa!” he yelps as it soars over his head, and once again the leathery wings beat down strongly. Up above him, he can hear Harkness yelling and a brief shout of his own name. He twists on the spot, trying to keep his eyes on what’s happening as the dinosaur flies across the warehouse and back. It’s not quite clear whether it’s trying to shake Harkness off or trying to keep a hold of him but for a brief second, in the dim light he can see the Captain hanging on with one hand, the syringe gleaming in the other. Then quite suddenly Harkness is falling, falling from at least 15 feet up towards the concrete floor and Ianto moves automatically, stepping forward and reaching up, and Harkness crashes into him with a thump that knocks them both to the ground, Ianto half on his back with Harkness on top, legs caught together.

“Sorry!” he hears Harkness gasp. Looking up, Ianto feels his eyes widen suddenly as he sees the pterodactyl start to plummet, wings clearly not co-operating. One quick shove sets them rolling to the side, over and over and for no reason Ianto can discern, he hears himself give a shout of laughter that’s echoed by Harkness. There is a crash as the dinosaur lands hard on the concrete right next to them and then they’re both whooping with exhilarated laughter. The laughter stutters to a halt, and for a second, there is stillness.

Harkness’s face is just millimetes from his own. They’re on the concrete, bodies touching, their breath coming in harsh pants, Harkness now underneath with Ianto lying full-stretch on top of him and like before, it seems to Ianto that the heat rolls from the other man. They’re staring straight into each other’s eyes as their breathing slows, and once more all he can think is that Harkness is warm and real and alive. Once again the heat seems to flash through him and this time he can’t stop it, can’t control it and his body’s response is instant and unmistakable.

It’s not just his reaction - they are so close, body-to-body with Harkness fully against him and he can feel the other man’s equal response; both of them aroused and hard and oh God it’s been so long since there was anything like this, almost three years since the night Peter left and his mouth is dry with desire and Harkness is so close that just a tiny move and their mouths would meet and he just wants this so much….

No. No, no, no, nononono. He’s not supposed to want this: this isn’t about want, it’s about need. About what he needs to do, not what he wants to do. How can he want this, when she is dying by inches?

“I should go.” He has to force the words out, has to make himself move. Has to make himself draw away from the heat and the warmth and the life and the want. He forces himself to his feet because he has to go, he has to go now because he’s not sure how long he can resist ‘want’, not right now.

Behind him, he can hear the soft scrape as Harkness gets to his feet. Then:

“Hey!” There is a beat’s pause and then Harkness continues and the words should be everything Ianto wants to hear and yet they cut like a knife. “Report for work first thing tomorrow.”

He stops for a second, turning his head to look slightly over his shoulder. He can’t see Harkness’s face, can’t tell from the words what the man is thinking. But he daren’t turn round because one look at the man and ‘want’ will be all he can think of. He gives a vague gesture of affirmation and then makes himself walk away. Then Harkness’s voice cuts through the dark once more.

“Like the suit, by the way.”

Pain twists through him and he almost stumbles, the walls blurring as tears threaten to overwhelm him. He pushes himself to walk faster, to get out of the warehouse before another word can be spoken, struggling to keep putting one foot in front of the other until he is hidden in the lee of the next building.

His control goes then, and for the second time that day he collapses to the ground. This time, he sits huddled against the side of the warehouse, arms wrapped around himself, tears of relief and misery mixing with the rain that falls in sheets around him. He should be delighted, should be estactic, should be racing back to the hospital to tell the others that they are saved, that they are in. Instead, he's grasping his head in his hands, breath coming in harsh gulps, as he tries to put himself back together. Oh God, he never bargained for this, never imagined this would happen. Caught up in the need to protect her and save her he never stopped to think. He banked on Harkness wanting him, on being able to make Harkness want him. And he thought he knew where that would go: kissing, groping, handjobs....that he can do. And beyond that - sex is just an action, he keeps reminding himself. What, since Oliver, he has never been able to do for his own pleasure he will do to keep Lisa safe. Letting someone else do whatever the hell they want to him, with him, is hardly an unknown event, thanks to Oliver. And that, he’s been telling himself all these weeks, will not be betraying her. If it's to keep her safe, it's not being unfaithful; it's justifiable. But he never, never, never for a second stopped to imagine that he might feel anything in response. What he felt this morning on the Plass, he can dismiss as simply a reaction to the fact that that one touch was the first human contact he’s had in two months. To want that to continue, he can tell himself, was to be expected. But this…he never stopped to think that he might actually want Harkness’s touch. That he might want Harkness in return.

He’s always sworn that his sexuality would never be a reason to be unfaithful. For two years, it hasn’t been an issue - there simply was no-one else who registered in his world. Lisa was his light and his life and the centre of everything. Oh, he’s looked, both at men and women - of course he’s looked; he’s monogamous, not blind. She’s looked too, and there’s been more than one time when they’ve been together at a café or elsewhere and he’s realised that not only are they both looking, but they’re both looking at the same person. The first time, he was lucky - there was an attractive girl near the man they were both eyeing up and Lisa thought that was where his attention was. The other two times, the boy happened to be one of a couple and she’d again assumed he was looking at the girl. But looking is one thing. This…to let Harkness have this affect on him, to let himself respond like that, to want that touch - that is unfaithful. But if he stops this now, if after tonight he suddenly pushes Harkness away, the man is going to get suspicious. If he’s suspicious, he might start looking harder at just why Ianto came after him. He doesn’t have any choice. He’s started this, he’s entered the game. He has no choice but to carry on playing. To protect her, he’s going to betray her.

The rumble of the SUV’s engines cut through the guilt and the misery. He looks up in time to see the big black vehicle swing round the now-empty warehouse and roll away into the night. Slowly, he drags himself to his feet.

Too shaken to think clearly, he goes straight to the hospital and it's not until he stumbles past the shed where the bike is sitting that he realises he’s forgotten the van. But by now he’s soaked to the skin and freezing cold so he just lurches through the door of the hospital wing. The ward door snaps open within seconds and Keith is standing there.

“Where the fuck have you been? She’s been waiting for bloody ages, she’s asking for you again, you….” For a moment, Ianto wonders whether he’s asleep, because this seems like a replay of last night when Keith laid into him for being late. But he’s wearing a suit, not jeans and jacket, and the memory of the warehouse is all too clear for a dream.

“We’re in,” he cuts Keith off. “Harkness gave me a job.”

He walks into the ward, past Keith who is staring at him in apparent disbelief and walks to the unit. He stands beside it, staring down at her and it takes a moment before he can put a smile on his face for her. This is the news she’s been waiting to hear for so long, but he has to force the words out.

“Lisa? We’re in.”

She stares up at him and then for an instant the pain is hidden behind a delighted smile. “You did it! I knew you’d do it. I knew you would!”

“You know I always keep my promises.” His lips feel wooden. He can’t understand why she doesn’t seem to see that he has betrayed her: surely the fact is written all over his face.

She lifts a hand and brushes his arm for just a moment before the heavy metal forces her to drop it down again. “When do you start?”

“Tomorrow. Uh - today. He said….first thing.”

“What’s the job?” And that makes him blink, trying to think of what he can say.

“General suppport. But I’m in. We’ve done it.”

She smiles again, looking up at him with a pride and trust that makes him want to curl up and die. He looks away, unable to meet her gaze, and forces his eyes to focus on the medical read-outs.

“You should be resting, love.” He frowns as the numbers on the display screens actually penetrate into his brain. “Haven’t you had your injection?”

He looks across at Keith, who glares back.

“Don’t bloody blame me, she refused a dose earlier. Wanted to wait and see if you came back.” The tone of Keith’s voice makes Ianto stare at him in disbelief and Lisa makes a small noise of protest, turning her head to look at her brother.

“I knew he’d come back Keith. Don’t talk like that! What’s got into you today?” She sounds on the edge of the tears she can no longer shed. “Ianto?” He looks down at her and the guilt flares higher at the distress in her eyes. The pain and fear have etched lines into her face that he knows will never entirely fade away. “I knew you’d be back - I told him you’d be back. I know you wouldn’t run out on me.”

Ianto’s gaze snaps up to Keith, startled, and he can see something cold and unyielding in Keith’s eyes. In his desperation to keep Lisa safe, has he ended up only convincing Keith that he is the main danger to Lisa? Is Keith trying to persuade his sister that Ianto will abandon them to save his own skin?

He looks down at Lisa again and smiles gently. “Trust me, Lisa - Keith knows I’ll protect you. From anyone.” He glances up again, a flick of his eyes, and sees Keith swallow and shift fractionally.

“Ianto?” In response, he reaches out and brushes one hand over her cheek and she turns her face into the touch. “What happens next?”

“I’ll spend a couple of days scouting out the Hub, find out how everything works. Then we’ll move you in. And then I’ll find what tech they have, see if there’s anything in the databases that can help us.”

“Why would there be?” It’s Keith who asks, his tone surly. Ianto looks up.

“What?”

“Why would there be information in this Hub place that you guys didn’t have in London? Thought you said your lot had never met Cybermen before?”

“The Institute hadn’t, but the Doctor had. And according to Harkness’s file, he’s been suspected of having contact with the Doctor since before he joined Torchwood. So if the Doctor knew anything about the conversion technology, so might Harkness. And even if he doesn’t, Hartman always suspected Cardiff kept tech and information to itself.”

Keith stares at him. “Pretty bloody longshot, isn’t it? And if it’s his personal knowledge, how’re you going to get him to tell you? Can’t exactly walk up to him and start asking what he knows about conversion units can you?”

At the edge of his vision, Ianto sees Lisa flinch at her brother’s harsh tone but he waves the comment away.

“I’ll find a way.” Oh, he will. He’ll get the answers he needs out of Harkness, one way or another. Not that he can tell the Hallett siblings that. Wouldn’t exactly go down well would it? I’ll just flirt and fuck the answers out of him if need be. Difficult? Not exactly - see, he’s sex on legs. Oh, didn’t I tell you? I’m bi. Perhaps not.

To stop this conversation going any further, he smiles down at Lisa. “You need to rest, lovely. Let me give you the morphine?” She nods reluctantly and he turns to the medical kit. After he’s injected her, he sits next to her until she drifts off into her drugged slumber. Then he looks up at Keith.

“You don’t leave here. I need to go to the Hub in…” He looks at his watch. “An hour. You don’t leave here. And don’t try convincing her I’m about to turn her in.” He looks up and gives Keith a bleak smile. “She worked for Torchwood as well. Trust me when I say she won’t believe you.” Keith’s eyes slide away from his and his mouth twists but he doesn’t say anything.

They’ve only spoken about it once, Lisa and he. When he told her he was taking her to Cardiff, to the Hub. She’d stared at him, hope flickering in her eyes before fear came up and hid it. “They’ll kill us if they find out, Ianto. Not just me - they’ll execute you, too.” He'd met her gaze and nodded. “I know, cariad. But I won’t let them find out. I promise.” She’d studied his face for a long moment and then: “You always keep your promises.” They haven’t spoken about it again, but she knows he is in this to the death. She won’t listen to Keith if he tries to convince her otherwise, but what will Keith do then? I have to get her into the Hub soon. I have to be rid of Keith as soon as possible.

It’s almost four in the morning but there's no point in sleeping: he'd have less than an hour, assuming he could even get to sleep. He knows Harkness is an early riser, so six is probably not too early to turn up. He can’t take the bike, but it’s as far to walk to the Hub as it is to get the van, so he may as well drive that to the Plass.

“I’m going to get ready.” He leaves the ward and heads to the shower for the third time in twenty-four hours. He needs to make himself presentable. Like the suit by the way. He’s only got one other suit and there’s no money to get a third. He’ll have to find time to get the sodden suit he’s wearing clean and dry. A few yards outside the bathroom he freezes in mid-step. I’ll work for nothing. Oh God, why did he say that? What if Harkness takes him at his word? Even if he gets her into the Hub within days, he’s still going to need money. If Harkness doesn’t pay him or takes him on some sort of unpaid trial period, then how is he going to manage?

He swallows hard and forces himself to start moving again. There is nothing he can do about it right now. It’s not going to be an unreasonable question to ask Harkness at some point within the first day or so. If Harkness gives him the answer he is now dreading….he shakes his head roughly, jerks his head hard to one side, refusing to even allow the voice to start whispering.

He showers once more. The towels are more damp than wet, but only just. He goes to get dressed, but as he stands on one leg to pull on the grey suit trousers, he nearly falls. He clings to the wall, waiting for the dizziness to pass and his vision to clear. It’s exhaustion, pure and simple. He’s been awake for nearly 24 hours on less than four hours sleep, and if he’s had a total of twenty hours rest in the last week he’d be surprised.

He carefully places the trousers over the side of the suitcase and pulls out the small cloth bag he keeps hidden there. He’s used this only three times since they arrived in Cardiff, and now he has to use it again because not even endless coffee is going to get him through today.

He takes out one of the five remaining vials. Compound 1456; a surprisingly recent addition to the list of Torchwood's chemical aids. Its usefulness has been proven but it’s not going to be passed on to Her Majesty’s Armed Forces for a while yet - it has a few little wrinkles to be ironed out first. Like the fact that it’s a raging carcinogen, not to mention a proven mutagen and teratogen. But the last is a non-issue for him, the second hardly matters right now and the cancer risk is only of minimal concern: if this whole plan doesn’t work then he’ll be dead with three Torchwood bullets in his head long before he needs to worry about cancer. If it succeeds, he’ll just have to make sure he gets regular check-ups.

He locks the vial into the pump and snaps on a sterile needle pack. He straps the tourniquet round his left arm and moments later watches as the blue-grey liquid is forced into a vein. By the time he’s dismantled the injector and binned the used needle and the empty vial, the exhaustion has gone. He feels fully alert, and the burning ache of muscle fatigue has gone as well. He picks up his watch, noting the time as he puts it on. For the next twenty-four hours, nothing short of the counter-compound is going to so much as tire him, but once that time limit is up he will crash so hard it’s going to hurt. A second injection within the next forty-eight hours runs the risk of bringing on a heart-attack, but so long as he’s back here at the hospital by midnight he should hold together.

He shaves and gets dressed, putting on shirt, suit and tie smoothly. Whatever Harkness wants, Harkness gets. This time, no voice whispers to him.

Just over an hour later he leaves the van parked by one of the language schools and heads towards the Tourist Office. He tries the door, but it’s locked. A moment later, he hears Harkness’s voice, the tinny sound making it clear it’s coming through a speaker.

“It’s six a.m.”

TBC