Nexus
Title: Nexus
Author: crystalshard
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Jack/Ianto, Gwen, Nikki Bevan
Warnings: Spoilers up until 2x11, Adrift.
Summary: That was what happened during the Jonah Bevan case. What if different choices had been made?
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood, it belongs to the BBC.
A/N: Many, many thanks to my wonderful betas jadesfire2808 and miss_zedem, who never fail to help me improve my writing.
Jack slid into the passenger seat of the SUV just as Ianto was beginning to wonder where he'd disappeared to. It was rare that Jack was late for a mission, these days. Aloud, Ianto said, "I have the coordinates for the Rift activity. Readings indicate that something came through - something human-sized."
"You think it could be one of the people stolen by the Rift?" Jack asked, his face tense as he stared out of the windscreen.
Ianto started the engine, triggering the rolling door that covered the entrance to Torchwood's garage. "Could be," he admitted. "Why do you ask?" He pulled out onto the road, slipping neatly into the traffic.
"Gwen was asking me about Jonah Bevan."
Ianto's mind flipped through its internal filing system. "Jonah Bevan. Disappeared seven months ago on the barrage at Penarth. Age fourteen."
Jack was already accessing the files through the SUV's computer link, the screen in front of him glowing blue. "That's the one. Huh. Says here that there's still an ongoing police investigation into his death. Headed by - oh, what a surprise. Gwen's old police partner, PC Andy Davidson."
Ianto glanced at Jack, and his eyes met those of the other man. "Would you like me to take care of it?" He slammed his foot on the brakes to avoid running into a car that had abruptly changed lanes, the shift in momentum throwing both Jack and himself forward into their seatbelts.
Jack hesitated as Ianto sped up again. "No. Let's see what Gwen does with the information."
Jack hesitated as Ianto sped up again. "Yes. The others don't need to know about the Flat Holm facility. Go through and . . ."
". . . clean up all of the negative Rift spikes." Ianto smiled. "I do know my job, Jack. Now, shall we see what came through the Rift?"
"Good idea." Jack grinned at him, an expression that Ianto could only see out of the corner of his eye. "By the way, I told Gwen that we were out Weevil hunting."
"Good to know. I do like to keep my stories straight."
* * *
"Of course not. Just focus on Jonah. The rest aren't part of this investigation."
Andy's simple practicality was too much for Gwen, and she leaned her head back, accidentally hitting it on the brick wall. She could still hear the low hum of conversation back in the community hall, those forty or fifty people who'd lost somebody close to them. "But what if they are? What if some of their friends, their relatives, their loved ones disappeared in the same kind of . . . of light?"
"How are you going to do that? Check the CCTV footage?"
Gwen brightened. "That's it. Andy, you're a genius."
* * *
Hours later, Gwen's eyes were swimming. She'd recruited Tosh to help her, but the other woman didn't seem to be in much better condition.
Tosh leaned back in her chair. "'m sorry, Gwen. There just isn't enough footage, and a lot of the older stuff isn't very good quality."
"There has to be something," Gwen insisted. Surely this couldn't have been the first incident? So many people had disappeared without trace, surely some must have had extraterrestrial causes. Especially here in Cardiff.
"Look. Maybe this Jonah really did go missing. Contrary to popular belief, most aliens don't go around abducting humans." Tosh reached up to rub her eyes, the simple gesture remind Gwen how long they'd been here.
It stung like salt in a wound, but Gwen made herself nod. She'd always hated it when she'd had to shut down a police investigation with the mocking tag of 'unsolved' hovering over it. It didn't feel any better at Torchwood.
* * *
"Close this down."
Ianto watched as Jack strode away from the conference table, contained anger showing clearly in his tense muscles. Almost without thinking about it, he got up to follow the other man. Jack might have his reasons for doing this, but Ianto wasn't sure whether he agreed with those reasons right now.
"Jack!" Gwen's plaintive, astonished call demanded answers.
Ianto half-turned, making a placating gesture. "I'll talk to him," he promised.
Jack paused just outside the conference room, letting Ianto catch up with him. "Here to plead her case?" Jack asked, hands on hips.
"Maybe. Jack, you know Gwen. She won't let this go until she has an answer that satisfies her."
"Gwen doesn't need to know about the Rift abductees. These kind of projects are need-to-know for a reason, and she doesn't need to know."
"She might. Think about it, Jack. She's had a taste of responsibility, running Torchwood while you were away. Maybe she needs a project like that to keep her occupied. I know that you can't die, but you're not always going to be here." Jack winced, evidence of a palpable hit. "I'm the only other one who knows, and I'm not immortal. If something happens to us, we'll need someone who knows about the island." Ianto looked Jack in the eye, willing him to think about it.
Jack's eyes flickered and he shook his head slightly. "No. The fewer people who know about this, the better." He turned to look at Gwen, then looked back at Ianto. "You of all people," he pointed at Ianto, "should know that."
Ianto knew that this was the only chance he'd have to change Jack's mind. He took a breath, then bit back his response as Jack turned away.
Ianto knew that this was the only chance he'd have to change Jack's mind. He took a breath, then spat his answer at Jack. "If I'd told you about Lisa earlier, things might not have gone as wrong as they did."
Jack glared at him, hot-eyed with rage. The tension built between them, neither willing to back down . . .
. . . and snapped. Jack's eyes grew thoughtful, and he nodded reluctantly. "I don't like it, but you have a point. Call Alex, tell him that I'll need the boat tomorrow morning."
Ianto nodded, and turned to go.
Behind him, he could hear Jack in his best Captain's Orders mode. "Gwen, meet me at the docks tomorrow morning. Eight o'clock sharp."
* * *
"You knew! You knew all along!"
Gwen's tone was a combination of incredulous and accusatory, and Jack wondered anew if he'd done the right thing by bringing her here. "And now you know. What are you going to do about it?" The wind off the sea made the grass that they were sitting on rustle, a gentle sound compared to the screams and sobs from beneath them. The walls were soundproofed, so technically there was no way that he could actually hear them up here, but that didn't stop his memory from filling in the noises.
"Jack, their families ought to know. We should help them to live a normal life."
Jack usually admired Gwen's drive, but he preferred it when it was in a helpful direction. "You've seen them, Gwen. Do you really think that any of them could live a so-called 'normal' life?"
"Yes. Think about it, Jack. We could do so much good."
"No. These people are damaged, in ways we can't fix. You've got your answers, Gwen. Let it go."
* * *
The next day, Gwen checked through the missing persons records for the families of those whom she knew were on Flat Holm island.
The day after, a boat containing one Torchwood employee and six anxious friends and relatives set out to the island facility. It wasn't long after that Gwen finally understood what Jack had meant about 'damaged'.
48-hour amnesia pills were given to the friends and families.
* * *
Ianto picked up the GPS unit and hesitated. Gwen ought to know about Flat Holm. If she didn't get a push in the right direction, she'd be like a dog with a bone until she'd chewed the issue right down to splinters. It was entirely possible that she'd uncover other Torchwood secrets whilst she was doing so - secrets that weren't nearly as harmless as Flat Holm. But Jack had told him that Gwen didn't need to know.
The safety of Torchwood came first. With quick, precise movements, Ianto programmed in the location and slipped the GPS into a plain brown envelope. He could put it on Gwen's desk later and let her find it tomorrow morning.
Jack's orders came first. Reluctantly, Ianto pocketed the GPS unit. He could install it in the SUV later - Jack had been asking for one for months now.
* * *
Two weeks later, in her search for Jonah Bevan, Gwen came across one of those secrets that Ianto had been afraid that she'd discover. He found her in the archives, shaking and whimpering, staring at the report in front of her.
"You . . . you . . . how could Torchwood do something like that? I thought that . . ." Gwen broke off, her grip creasing the paper. "Ianto, tell me you didn't know."
"It's not what you think," Ianto said gently. In a way, he was relieved that Gwen had only come to Torchwood after the collapse of Torchwood One. She'd never have coped with some of the things they'd done there.
"Twenty thousand people, Ianto! Twenty thousand!"
"If we hadn't stopped it there, it would have been two million. We did what we had to, Gwen."
"I don't want to remember." Gwen's tearful eyes looked up at him, and he found himself unable to resist the pleading in them. "Don't make me remember this, Ianto. We have Retcon. One day's worth, and it all goes away."
"You'll have to talk to Jack," Ianto told her gently, easing the report out of Gwen's hands. She kept shivering. Ianto knew what shock looked like from the inside, and it was just as easy to recognise on someone else. He slipped his jacket off, wrapping it around her shoulders.
* * *
Ianto looked up from his desk to see Jack standing over him. "Tosh just left," Jack said without preamble but with a wicked grin. "We've got the entire Hub to ourselves."
Ianto felt his lips curl into a smile. "I take it that you have some ideas for the evening, then?"
Jack perched on the edge of Ianto's desk, leaning far enough over so that Ianto could smell Jack's scent. "Oh yeah," Jack murmured. "I was thinking maybe that game of naked Hide and Seek that I promised you. Then we might go warm up in the hothouse - we'll be cold after all that running around stark. Naked." Jack started to loosen Ianto's tie, and Ianto closed his eyes for a moment in anticipation.
"That sounds like . . . an excellent idea," Ianto said, slightly breathless.
"That sounds like . . . an excellent idea," Ianto said, slightly breathless. "I might have a better one, though. You, me, a hot bath, my flat."
"I like the way you think," Jack said throatily. "Do we get bubble bath?"
"Of course." Sounding offended wasn't easy while having your shirt undone from the neck down, but Ianto somehow managed it.
When Gwen turned up later that night, there was no Jack for her to talk to, no-one to hear her request to take on the Jonah Bevan case as her own special project.
* * *
The boat rocked under Ianto's feet as he made his way to its prow. Jack was standing there, looking for all the world like some strange variation on a Viking figurehead, statue-like and silent. Ianto stood next to him, lending his presence in the hopes that Jack wouldn't feel quite so alone. Jack took responsibility for these bits of human flotsam and jetsam, and Ianto knew that it broke his heart a little more every time they had to do this.
A wail rose from the darkened cabin amidships, stark contrast to Jack's immobility. The man who'd been spat out by the Rift early that morning had been screaming in pain when they'd found him, shielding his eyes from the sun, his skin so pale that it was obvious he hadn't seen sunlight in years. He was barely three years older than when he'd been stolen seven years ago, but he was just as damaged as those who'd been gone twice as long. At least the darkened cabin seemed to be helping a little.
Thank goodness it hadn't been a child this time. The children were always the hardest to think about.
Beside him Jack finally shifted. "Do you think Gwen took the hint?" he asked, still watching the waves.
"I don't know," Ianto said truthfully. After all, he had no idea what Gwen had done with the GPS system he'd left her. His eyes crinkled in affectionate amusement. "She is as stubborn as you are."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Jack muttered under his breath. Ianto pretended not to hear.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Jack muttered under his breath.
"Don't let her run you over, Jack. Gwen doesn't know how to detach herself from things like this."
Jack nodded. "I could have wished she'd learned. But if she had, she wouldn't be Gwen any more."
* * *
"Open it."
"Gwen, before I . . ." Jack began.
"NOW!" Gwen demanded.
"Gwen, listen to yourself!" Jack roared. "Either you want answers or you don't. We can go outside and talk this over like two civilised people, or I call security and have them drag you out of here."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me."
Gwen glared at him for a moment, but Jack still remembered what Ianto had said. "Don't let her run you over, Jack." Of course, it would have been different if he'd known that Ianto had disobeyed his orders and given Gwen this location. Once he got back to the boat, Ianto would have some questions to answer.
Eventually, Gwen looked down and hunched her shoulders. "You had better have a bloody good explanation for this, Jack Harkness."
* * *
Jack watched, the facility's administrator beside him, as Gwen edged tentatively into Jonah's cell. He'd given her all the explanations that he could give her. Now it was up to Jonah and reality to teach her about life.
"Are you sure about this, Jack?" Helen asked. The plump woman who ran Flat Holm was looking as uncertain as Jack was feeling.
"Not sure at all," Jack admitted. "Is it nearly time?"
Helen checked her watch. "Any time now. He's been lucid for just over four hours."
A minute ticked by, and another. Then . . . a scream, an unearthly howl, the cry of one driven mad by things that no human should have to see. Gwen stumbled out of the room, screwing up her face in pain, and Jack stepped forward to lead her away.
* * *
Ianto watched as Gwen exited Nikki's house, her expression set. Gwen didn't see him as she strode away in the opposite direction, her thoughts evidently not entirely on where she was going.
He gave her a full minute, then rang Nikki's doorbell. It was answered almost immediately. "Hello. Nikki Bevan?" he asked politely.
"That's me." Her expression was so blank it was almost painful. "I suppose you're here about Jonah."
"Just clearing up a few details."
She gave him the once-over. This wasn't the Nikki that Gwen had described, the woman with fierce hopes and desperate, unyielding determination. She seemed to be as dull and incurious as her outfit, not even asking who he worked for and seeming not to care. Still, something about him seemed to make her relax. Maybe it was the suit. "You'd better come in, then."
He stepped over the threshold, looking around him. A nice room, tidy but for the videos scattered all over the floor.
"Would you like a cup of tea?" Nikki's listless voice reminded him of the reason that he'd come here. Ianto fingered the level six amnesia pill in his pocket. It was the variant that erased selected memories, instead of whole chunks of time. Expensive to make, but necessary under these conditions. "Tea would be lovely, thanks."
Ianto took a seat on the sofa, guessing that the armchair opposite the TV was Nikki's seat. It was clear that Nikki spent a lot of time in this room, watching those videos.
Nikki made the tea, serving it in plain mugs and dropping into the armchair without comment. The silence stretched for a few moments before Nikki abruptly spoke up.
"Don't know what you're here for, really. They've found my son. Of course - ah, what's the use me telling you? You'd never believe me."
"Found? Really?" Ianto asked in simulated amazement. "Who by?"
"Torchwood." Nikki's tone was venomous. "Bloody Torchwood and Gwen Cooper." She waved at the videos. "Looks like I won't need these any more. He's not going to be in them, is he?"
Ianto thought fast. "What are they?"
"Crowd footage. I'd hoped that maybe, I'd see him there. Just see his face, so I knew he was all right." Nikki sipped her tea, staring into the mug as if she could see the past in the murky liquid.
"What did he look like?"
Nikki put her mug down by her feet, conveniently on Ianto's side. "I'll get you a picture."
As Nikki turned her back on him, Ianto leaned across and dropped the amnesia pill in her tea. There was a brief swirl of whiteness as it melted in the hot liquid, and then it vanished as if it had never been. Ianto was back in place by the time Nikki had found a photo.
"Here," she said, passing it to him as she sat down again. "That's my son."
Ianto studied the photo carefully. The Jonah in this picture was a curly-haired teenager with a glint of mischief in his eyes. He'd first seen Jonah when the scarred, damaged man had been returned by the Rift, and try as he might, he couldn't reconcile the two in his mind.
He pulled his thoughts back to the present and kept Nikki talking as they both drank their tea. He learned more than he'd ever expected to about Jonah - about the football that he'd loved, the school that he'd hated, about a hundred other things.
Ianto waited until Nikki had fallen into a Retcon-induced slumber, removing the empty mug from her lax fingers. "You never heard of Torchwood," he whispered in her ear. "A week ago, the police told you that your son died in a car crash in Manchester. A records mix-up meant that they only found out now. Flat Holm island means nothing to you. You haven't seen your son since he disappeared. Forget me, forget Gwen."
Ianto washed up his mug in the kitchen sink, erasing the last trace of his presence. As he stepped out of the house and closed the door behind him, he tugged his jacket closer around him. They'd have to keep a watch on Nikki Bevan for a while to make sure that the new memories were firmly in place, but there shouldn't be any problems. He'd done this often enough.
Clean-up accomplished.
Author: crystalshard
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Jack/Ianto, Gwen, Nikki Bevan
Warnings: Spoilers up until 2x11, Adrift.
Summary: That was what happened during the Jonah Bevan case. What if different choices had been made?
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood, it belongs to the BBC.
A/N: Many, many thanks to my wonderful betas jadesfire2808 and miss_zedem, who never fail to help me improve my writing.
Jack slid into the passenger seat of the SUV just as Ianto was beginning to wonder where he'd disappeared to. It was rare that Jack was late for a mission, these days. Aloud, Ianto said, "I have the coordinates for the Rift activity. Readings indicate that something came through - something human-sized."
"You think it could be one of the people stolen by the Rift?" Jack asked, his face tense as he stared out of the windscreen.
Ianto started the engine, triggering the rolling door that covered the entrance to Torchwood's garage. "Could be," he admitted. "Why do you ask?" He pulled out onto the road, slipping neatly into the traffic.
"Gwen was asking me about Jonah Bevan."
Ianto's mind flipped through its internal filing system. "Jonah Bevan. Disappeared seven months ago on the barrage at Penarth. Age fourteen."
Jack was already accessing the files through the SUV's computer link, the screen in front of him glowing blue. "That's the one. Huh. Says here that there's still an ongoing police investigation into his death. Headed by - oh, what a surprise. Gwen's old police partner, PC Andy Davidson."
Ianto glanced at Jack, and his eyes met those of the other man. "Would you like me to take care of it?" He slammed his foot on the brakes to avoid running into a car that had abruptly changed lanes, the shift in momentum throwing both Jack and himself forward into their seatbelts.
Jack hesitated as Ianto sped up again. "No. Let's see what Gwen does with the information."
Jack hesitated as Ianto sped up again. "Yes. The others don't need to know about the Flat Holm facility. Go through and . . ."
". . . clean up all of the negative Rift spikes." Ianto smiled. "I do know my job, Jack. Now, shall we see what came through the Rift?"
"Good idea." Jack grinned at him, an expression that Ianto could only see out of the corner of his eye. "By the way, I told Gwen that we were out Weevil hunting."
"Good to know. I do like to keep my stories straight."
* * *
"Of course not. Just focus on Jonah. The rest aren't part of this investigation."
Andy's simple practicality was too much for Gwen, and she leaned her head back, accidentally hitting it on the brick wall. She could still hear the low hum of conversation back in the community hall, those forty or fifty people who'd lost somebody close to them. "But what if they are? What if some of their friends, their relatives, their loved ones disappeared in the same kind of . . . of light?"
"How are you going to do that? Check the CCTV footage?"
Gwen brightened. "That's it. Andy, you're a genius."
* * *
Hours later, Gwen's eyes were swimming. She'd recruited Tosh to help her, but the other woman didn't seem to be in much better condition.
Tosh leaned back in her chair. "'m sorry, Gwen. There just isn't enough footage, and a lot of the older stuff isn't very good quality."
"There has to be something," Gwen insisted. Surely this couldn't have been the first incident? So many people had disappeared without trace, surely some must have had extraterrestrial causes. Especially here in Cardiff.
"Look. Maybe this Jonah really did go missing. Contrary to popular belief, most aliens don't go around abducting humans." Tosh reached up to rub her eyes, the simple gesture remind Gwen how long they'd been here.
It stung like salt in a wound, but Gwen made herself nod. She'd always hated it when she'd had to shut down a police investigation with the mocking tag of 'unsolved' hovering over it. It didn't feel any better at Torchwood.
* * *
"Close this down."
Ianto watched as Jack strode away from the conference table, contained anger showing clearly in his tense muscles. Almost without thinking about it, he got up to follow the other man. Jack might have his reasons for doing this, but Ianto wasn't sure whether he agreed with those reasons right now.
"Jack!" Gwen's plaintive, astonished call demanded answers.
Ianto half-turned, making a placating gesture. "I'll talk to him," he promised.
Jack paused just outside the conference room, letting Ianto catch up with him. "Here to plead her case?" Jack asked, hands on hips.
"Maybe. Jack, you know Gwen. She won't let this go until she has an answer that satisfies her."
"Gwen doesn't need to know about the Rift abductees. These kind of projects are need-to-know for a reason, and she doesn't need to know."
"She might. Think about it, Jack. She's had a taste of responsibility, running Torchwood while you were away. Maybe she needs a project like that to keep her occupied. I know that you can't die, but you're not always going to be here." Jack winced, evidence of a palpable hit. "I'm the only other one who knows, and I'm not immortal. If something happens to us, we'll need someone who knows about the island." Ianto looked Jack in the eye, willing him to think about it.
Jack's eyes flickered and he shook his head slightly. "No. The fewer people who know about this, the better." He turned to look at Gwen, then looked back at Ianto. "You of all people," he pointed at Ianto, "should know that."
Ianto knew that this was the only chance he'd have to change Jack's mind. He took a breath, then bit back his response as Jack turned away.
Ianto knew that this was the only chance he'd have to change Jack's mind. He took a breath, then spat his answer at Jack. "If I'd told you about Lisa earlier, things might not have gone as wrong as they did."
Jack glared at him, hot-eyed with rage. The tension built between them, neither willing to back down . . .
. . . and snapped. Jack's eyes grew thoughtful, and he nodded reluctantly. "I don't like it, but you have a point. Call Alex, tell him that I'll need the boat tomorrow morning."
Ianto nodded, and turned to go.
Behind him, he could hear Jack in his best Captain's Orders mode. "Gwen, meet me at the docks tomorrow morning. Eight o'clock sharp."
* * *
"You knew! You knew all along!"
Gwen's tone was a combination of incredulous and accusatory, and Jack wondered anew if he'd done the right thing by bringing her here. "And now you know. What are you going to do about it?" The wind off the sea made the grass that they were sitting on rustle, a gentle sound compared to the screams and sobs from beneath them. The walls were soundproofed, so technically there was no way that he could actually hear them up here, but that didn't stop his memory from filling in the noises.
"Jack, their families ought to know. We should help them to live a normal life."
Jack usually admired Gwen's drive, but he preferred it when it was in a helpful direction. "You've seen them, Gwen. Do you really think that any of them could live a so-called 'normal' life?"
"Yes. Think about it, Jack. We could do so much good."
"No. These people are damaged, in ways we can't fix. You've got your answers, Gwen. Let it go."
* * *
The next day, Gwen checked through the missing persons records for the families of those whom she knew were on Flat Holm island.
The day after, a boat containing one Torchwood employee and six anxious friends and relatives set out to the island facility. It wasn't long after that Gwen finally understood what Jack had meant about 'damaged'.
48-hour amnesia pills were given to the friends and families.
* * *
Ianto picked up the GPS unit and hesitated. Gwen ought to know about Flat Holm. If she didn't get a push in the right direction, she'd be like a dog with a bone until she'd chewed the issue right down to splinters. It was entirely possible that she'd uncover other Torchwood secrets whilst she was doing so - secrets that weren't nearly as harmless as Flat Holm. But Jack had told him that Gwen didn't need to know.
The safety of Torchwood came first. With quick, precise movements, Ianto programmed in the location and slipped the GPS into a plain brown envelope. He could put it on Gwen's desk later and let her find it tomorrow morning.
Jack's orders came first. Reluctantly, Ianto pocketed the GPS unit. He could install it in the SUV later - Jack had been asking for one for months now.
* * *
Two weeks later, in her search for Jonah Bevan, Gwen came across one of those secrets that Ianto had been afraid that she'd discover. He found her in the archives, shaking and whimpering, staring at the report in front of her.
"You . . . you . . . how could Torchwood do something like that? I thought that . . ." Gwen broke off, her grip creasing the paper. "Ianto, tell me you didn't know."
"It's not what you think," Ianto said gently. In a way, he was relieved that Gwen had only come to Torchwood after the collapse of Torchwood One. She'd never have coped with some of the things they'd done there.
"Twenty thousand people, Ianto! Twenty thousand!"
"If we hadn't stopped it there, it would have been two million. We did what we had to, Gwen."
"I don't want to remember." Gwen's tearful eyes looked up at him, and he found himself unable to resist the pleading in them. "Don't make me remember this, Ianto. We have Retcon. One day's worth, and it all goes away."
"You'll have to talk to Jack," Ianto told her gently, easing the report out of Gwen's hands. She kept shivering. Ianto knew what shock looked like from the inside, and it was just as easy to recognise on someone else. He slipped his jacket off, wrapping it around her shoulders.
* * *
Ianto looked up from his desk to see Jack standing over him. "Tosh just left," Jack said without preamble but with a wicked grin. "We've got the entire Hub to ourselves."
Ianto felt his lips curl into a smile. "I take it that you have some ideas for the evening, then?"
Jack perched on the edge of Ianto's desk, leaning far enough over so that Ianto could smell Jack's scent. "Oh yeah," Jack murmured. "I was thinking maybe that game of naked Hide and Seek that I promised you. Then we might go warm up in the hothouse - we'll be cold after all that running around stark. Naked." Jack started to loosen Ianto's tie, and Ianto closed his eyes for a moment in anticipation.
"That sounds like . . . an excellent idea," Ianto said, slightly breathless.
"That sounds like . . . an excellent idea," Ianto said, slightly breathless. "I might have a better one, though. You, me, a hot bath, my flat."
"I like the way you think," Jack said throatily. "Do we get bubble bath?"
"Of course." Sounding offended wasn't easy while having your shirt undone from the neck down, but Ianto somehow managed it.
When Gwen turned up later that night, there was no Jack for her to talk to, no-one to hear her request to take on the Jonah Bevan case as her own special project.
* * *
The boat rocked under Ianto's feet as he made his way to its prow. Jack was standing there, looking for all the world like some strange variation on a Viking figurehead, statue-like and silent. Ianto stood next to him, lending his presence in the hopes that Jack wouldn't feel quite so alone. Jack took responsibility for these bits of human flotsam and jetsam, and Ianto knew that it broke his heart a little more every time they had to do this.
A wail rose from the darkened cabin amidships, stark contrast to Jack's immobility. The man who'd been spat out by the Rift early that morning had been screaming in pain when they'd found him, shielding his eyes from the sun, his skin so pale that it was obvious he hadn't seen sunlight in years. He was barely three years older than when he'd been stolen seven years ago, but he was just as damaged as those who'd been gone twice as long. At least the darkened cabin seemed to be helping a little.
Thank goodness it hadn't been a child this time. The children were always the hardest to think about.
Beside him Jack finally shifted. "Do you think Gwen took the hint?" he asked, still watching the waves.
"I don't know," Ianto said truthfully. After all, he had no idea what Gwen had done with the GPS system he'd left her. His eyes crinkled in affectionate amusement. "She is as stubborn as you are."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Jack muttered under his breath. Ianto pretended not to hear.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Jack muttered under his breath.
"Don't let her run you over, Jack. Gwen doesn't know how to detach herself from things like this."
Jack nodded. "I could have wished she'd learned. But if she had, she wouldn't be Gwen any more."
* * *
"Open it."
"Gwen, before I . . ." Jack began.
"NOW!" Gwen demanded.
"Gwen, listen to yourself!" Jack roared. "Either you want answers or you don't. We can go outside and talk this over like two civilised people, or I call security and have them drag you out of here."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me."
Gwen glared at him for a moment, but Jack still remembered what Ianto had said. "Don't let her run you over, Jack." Of course, it would have been different if he'd known that Ianto had disobeyed his orders and given Gwen this location. Once he got back to the boat, Ianto would have some questions to answer.
Eventually, Gwen looked down and hunched her shoulders. "You had better have a bloody good explanation for this, Jack Harkness."
* * *
Jack watched, the facility's administrator beside him, as Gwen edged tentatively into Jonah's cell. He'd given her all the explanations that he could give her. Now it was up to Jonah and reality to teach her about life.
"Are you sure about this, Jack?" Helen asked. The plump woman who ran Flat Holm was looking as uncertain as Jack was feeling.
"Not sure at all," Jack admitted. "Is it nearly time?"
Helen checked her watch. "Any time now. He's been lucid for just over four hours."
A minute ticked by, and another. Then . . . a scream, an unearthly howl, the cry of one driven mad by things that no human should have to see. Gwen stumbled out of the room, screwing up her face in pain, and Jack stepped forward to lead her away.
* * *
Ianto watched as Gwen exited Nikki's house, her expression set. Gwen didn't see him as she strode away in the opposite direction, her thoughts evidently not entirely on where she was going.
He gave her a full minute, then rang Nikki's doorbell. It was answered almost immediately. "Hello. Nikki Bevan?" he asked politely.
"That's me." Her expression was so blank it was almost painful. "I suppose you're here about Jonah."
"Just clearing up a few details."
She gave him the once-over. This wasn't the Nikki that Gwen had described, the woman with fierce hopes and desperate, unyielding determination. She seemed to be as dull and incurious as her outfit, not even asking who he worked for and seeming not to care. Still, something about him seemed to make her relax. Maybe it was the suit. "You'd better come in, then."
He stepped over the threshold, looking around him. A nice room, tidy but for the videos scattered all over the floor.
"Would you like a cup of tea?" Nikki's listless voice reminded him of the reason that he'd come here. Ianto fingered the level six amnesia pill in his pocket. It was the variant that erased selected memories, instead of whole chunks of time. Expensive to make, but necessary under these conditions. "Tea would be lovely, thanks."
Ianto took a seat on the sofa, guessing that the armchair opposite the TV was Nikki's seat. It was clear that Nikki spent a lot of time in this room, watching those videos.
Nikki made the tea, serving it in plain mugs and dropping into the armchair without comment. The silence stretched for a few moments before Nikki abruptly spoke up.
"Don't know what you're here for, really. They've found my son. Of course - ah, what's the use me telling you? You'd never believe me."
"Found? Really?" Ianto asked in simulated amazement. "Who by?"
"Torchwood." Nikki's tone was venomous. "Bloody Torchwood and Gwen Cooper." She waved at the videos. "Looks like I won't need these any more. He's not going to be in them, is he?"
Ianto thought fast. "What are they?"
"Crowd footage. I'd hoped that maybe, I'd see him there. Just see his face, so I knew he was all right." Nikki sipped her tea, staring into the mug as if she could see the past in the murky liquid.
"What did he look like?"
Nikki put her mug down by her feet, conveniently on Ianto's side. "I'll get you a picture."
As Nikki turned her back on him, Ianto leaned across and dropped the amnesia pill in her tea. There was a brief swirl of whiteness as it melted in the hot liquid, and then it vanished as if it had never been. Ianto was back in place by the time Nikki had found a photo.
"Here," she said, passing it to him as she sat down again. "That's my son."
Ianto studied the photo carefully. The Jonah in this picture was a curly-haired teenager with a glint of mischief in his eyes. He'd first seen Jonah when the scarred, damaged man had been returned by the Rift, and try as he might, he couldn't reconcile the two in his mind.
He pulled his thoughts back to the present and kept Nikki talking as they both drank their tea. He learned more than he'd ever expected to about Jonah - about the football that he'd loved, the school that he'd hated, about a hundred other things.
Ianto waited until Nikki had fallen into a Retcon-induced slumber, removing the empty mug from her lax fingers. "You never heard of Torchwood," he whispered in her ear. "A week ago, the police told you that your son died in a car crash in Manchester. A records mix-up meant that they only found out now. Flat Holm island means nothing to you. You haven't seen your son since he disappeared. Forget me, forget Gwen."
Ianto washed up his mug in the kitchen sink, erasing the last trace of his presence. As he stepped out of the house and closed the door behind him, he tugged his jacket closer around him. They'd have to keep a watch on Nikki Bevan for a while to make sure that the new memories were firmly in place, but there shouldn't be any problems. He'd done this often enough.
Clean-up accomplished.