Incomplete NaNoWriMo - just to start us off!
Title: Untitled NaNo
Chapter: This is only half of it!
Author: a_silver_story
Genre Angst, Romance, bits of smut.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: ManOnMan. Nom.
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs RTD and the BBC, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary: Set after Kiss Kiss Bang Bang but before Sleeper, I wrote this for NaNoWriMo 2009 but lost half of it when I was forced to get a new laptop. I have what was saved in my google.docs, which is less than half, but better than nothing! It's AU, and it's a 'let's make Jack suffer!' fic, really. It's Ianto P.O.V, and I promise everything will work out fine when I get around to re-writing the second half.
“Where were you?”
Jack looked away, suddenly very interested in whatever it was on his desk. His expression hardened, and his shoulders tensed.
“Jack?”
“Ianto, I don’t want to talk about it.” he said shortly.
“I do.” muttered Ianto darkly, setting the mug of coffee down. He turned on his heel and heard Jack call after him:
“I’m never going to talk about it.”
Ianto would normally have left it there, but this time it was different. This time, he himself was involved in the nightmare; Jack had left him, and he needed to know why. Ianto wasn’t so simple as not to recognise the blue Police box he’d spent his time at Torchwood one being trained to find, nor to realise Jack’s hero-worship of the alien that travelled around in it.
He’d known deep down that Jack would leave, and after three months of silence and not a trace of him to be found, Ianto was preparing to move on. What had they really had, anyway? A bit of an infatuation, maybe. If that. Ianto was grateful to himself for not loving him - that would have been far too hard. He’d have been in a worse place than he was after Lisa died, knowing that Lisa had no choice but to leave him while Jack had made the conscious decision. Not even a goodbye, Ianto thought bitterly. No note. No indication. Not even a phone call.
Jack had boasted about how the Doctor could make your phone work from anywhere in the Universe and you could phone home in the right time period, have a conversation like you were sat on your couch in your flat while really you were in the year seven billion and one sipping some strange cocktail while watching the locals arm wrestle over pie.
Why hadn’t Jack called? If it was so easy, why hadn’t he called?
The others had already gone home for the night, seemingly in better moods after Jack’s first day back at work. Ianto thought of the day before, of turning around and seeing Jack there playing his Big Damn Hero, grinning at them with that twinkle in his eyes. He thought of Captain John Hart, the way he’d looked at him and called him Eye-Candy. Was that all he was to Jack, too? Something pretty to look at, to string along and all too willing to screw. He’d asked him on a date, though. Didn’t that mean he wanted more? He said he’d been thinking of him while he was away. But he’d mentioned nothing since, and he’d had plenty of chance to at the hotel they’d stayed in the night before. Had he just asked to break the tension? God, Ianto was so confused.
After about half an hour of cleaning the silent hub, Ianto heard the soft fall of Jack’s footsteps approaching behind him.
“Hey,” Jack said softly. “I was thinking ... the Rift was really noisy today, so it’ll probably be quite quiet for the next few hours at least. So ... if ... y’know ... you’re hungry or anything ...”
“I’m not.” snapped Ianto.
“Maybe ... just the movies, then?”
“Nothing on that appeals.” he replied curtly, moving down to the medical bay to tidy up Owen’s instruments. Jack loitered on the balcony, leaning his hands on the railing and watching him. Ianto could feel his eyes burning into the back of his neck. “What?”
“I ... you said ... you said you wanted to ... y’know ...”
“You caught me by surprise,” muttered Ianto. “I’ve had a think since then.”
“So ... you don’t ...?” Jack asked sullen, and Ianto didn’t want to turn and see if there was any hurt in his expression.
“I don’t know anymore.” he sighed. “When I said ‘yes’ I suppose I at least expected you to have enough respect for me to at least tell me where you’ve been.” He carefully adjusted the small instruments on their sterilised tray, making sure they were all perpendicular to the bottom edge and parallel to each other. He knew Owen would mess it up, but he could always re-adjust afterwards.
Jack hadn’t replied yet, and Ianto was just starting to think he’d maybe slunk off when he heard the sound of rubber on concrete behind him. A warm hand slid around his shoulders from behind, and he closed his eyes as he began willing himself not to simply fall into Jack’s arms. Jack could sense Ianto's struggle, keeping his distance a little. He didn’t press them together, or stand so close Ianto would feel crowded by hot breath on his neck. Just an arm around his shoulder and over his chest, intimately reminding him that Jack was there without completely invading his personal space.
Ianto hesitated a moment, allowing it. He steeled himself, side stepped away from the touch and turned to brush past the Captain without making eye contact. He climbed the stairs quickly and left Jack on his own, making his way to the cog door, grabbing his coat from the stand and his car keys.
“Power down yourself.” he called back as the door rolled aside, and he strode purposefully through before remembering his car was in the Torchwood garage, and he couldn’t get to it this way. The door rolled shut behind him, and after a five-second silent battle with himself decided that walking home seemed more appealing than going back through the hub to the garage. He cursed his over-precautious security system, that would only allow people in vehicles through from the outside, rather than just people on foot. Maybe he could get Tosh to change a couple of things ...
It wasn’t too cold a night, but Ianto was grateful for his coat. Toshiko and Gwen had chipped together to buy it for him for his birthday, and he loved it. He generally only wore it for special occasions, but feeling low self-worth that morning and enjoying the boost of how good he looked in it, coupled with knowing people who loved him had bought it for him had made him feel significantly better. As did the little goldfish swimming in the bowl on the breakfast bar in his kitchen that Owen had so thoughtfully given him.
“Now Jack’s gone, I figured you’d need something of similar intelligence to him to take care of.”
Ianto had laughed, trying not to let on that, in truth, he did indeed need someone to take care of. It’s how he dealt with everything Torchwood threw at him. The others all seemed to turn inwards; Toshiko throwing herself into work, Owen with his hurtful sarcasm and cynicism, Gwen and her affair. Ianto turned outwards, needing to see the good in them, needing to make them feel better, needing to take care of them, needing to love them. It didn’t matter that they didn’t always acknowledge it - they were busy, and all of them went through too much - but when they did, when they bought him coats and goldfish and shouted at each other for buying instant and possibly pissing off Ianto, he glowed inside. This is what pulls me though, he’d think to himself. Knowing that even the little things I do matter.
He let himself into his flat, hanging the coat carefully next to his not-so-important ones and taking off his shoes before carrying them through the house to put in the wardrobe. He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say he didn’t need a new carpet in the living room - parts of it were stained with spilled Lucozade from the previous tenants - but he could at least preserve some of it until he finally had time to sort it out.
He shucked his jacket, putting it on a hanger with a blue sticker on it (blue for Dry Clean Not Immediately Necessary) and hung it in the empty part of the wardrobe ready for when he needed the red-stickered hangers. He pulled off his socks, tossing them into his little basket, and put his tie back on the tie rack and his belt on its proper hook inside the wardrobe door. He did a double take, biting back annoyance as he saw the leather curl at the bottom of the belt, trying to rub out the natural wear that was really unavoidable with his finger and thumb. Eventually he used masking tape to keep it straight and parallel to the other belts - he always ended up doing it these days, it seemed - and finally shut the door confident all his clothes were currently in order.
He hid his gun in the drawer by his bed, underneath his colour-graduated pairs of socks (pairs safety-pinned together; never rolled) and went to go and feed his fish.
As he sprinkled the food into the water, Ianto wondered if his goldfish was in fact a boy or a girl, or if fish cared if they were boys or girls and even knew themselves if they were boys or girls. His fish was called Bob, because Ianto really couldn’t think of anything else, and it gave him great delight to randomly say to the fish “What’s your name?” and see its little mouth making the ‘bob bob bob bob’ shape through the water. It probably shouldn’t amuse him as much as it did.
Ianto was endlessly grateful that Bob couldn’t talk. He’d ranted and raved and shouted and screamed at the little fish in the month he’d had it, all of his most intimate secrets and fears spilling out simply because there was someone - or something - there to listen. And Bob never judged him. Bob just swam around happily, looping through his castle and nose-butting the little glass diver Ianto had bought on a random trip to Scotland that dangled on a wire from a glass bubble that floated on the water. Ianto thought back to his little trip to Scotland - it had been on one of his worse days, just waking up that morning and feeling so ... insignificant. Trapped. Abandoned.
He hadn’t bothered ringing the others to let them know he wouldn’t be in. He just climbed into his car and drove and drove and drove and eventually wound up in a little park in Dumfries. He didn’t know if it was weird or not that he’d sat to watch the children play, going about their happy little care-free lives, laughing and smiling and oblivious. The littlest ones were the funniest. They didn’t care about any form of self-consciousness, just wandering up to one another, asking if they wanted to play and then simply getting on with being together and having fun. Simple.
Everything was so complicated in Ianto's life, he’d just needed to see the evidence of that simplicity somewhere. That for other people - the people he was trying to protect - things were easier and less complicated. He wondered to himself how many of the mothers and fathers sat chatting on the benches lining the play park had met because their son or daughter had walked up to the other one and said, “Are you on your own? Wanna play?”
Friends made through simply not judging.
Ianto hated being judged.
Bob didn’t judge him. Bob was his best friend. How pathetic was that?
Tired, but not exhausted, Ianto took off his shirt and trousers and boxers and got changed into his pyjama bottoms and t-shirt. He flicked on the telly - not one of those flat screen things, a big, proper box telly. It needed to warm up and everything. Ianto wondered how long it would be before his box telly would be considered ‘retro’ and possibly come back into fashion.
The set hummed at him as it warmed, the picture flickering into life. He sighed to himself as the blonde woman with the incredibly happy smile stood by a nine-by-nine square of letters, urging people to ring up and tell her what word was hidden within it and win a thousand pounds. Ianto considered ringing up for a lark, snorting into his glass of milk when the man who had phoned up guessed the painfully obvious answer wrong. He was just reaching for his landline when there was a knock at the door.
If it was Jack, he was going to shoot him. He had practiced on Owen, after all.
He pulled the door open, and sure enough Captain Harkness was there, coat slung over his arm and looking guilty. “Sorry,” he said. “were you in bed?”
“Not quite.” Ianto folded his arms. “I never told you where I lived.”
“I know where you all live.” Jack replied. “At least I knocked rather than just using the key.” He tried to sound jovial.
“Key?” Ianto raised an eyebrow.
Jack shuffled uncomfortably. “Emergencies only.” he muttered. “Anyway, we need to talk, I think.”
“Now?” Ianto asked, disbelieving.
“No time like the present.”
“There was a time like two hours ago, when I could be bothered with you and you brushed me off.”
“I’ve had a think.” admitted Jack.
“Me too.” scowled Ianto.
“And?” Jack prompted hopefully.
“And I think we should just forget about it.”
“Forget I left?” Jack asked, incredulous.
Ianto rolled his eyes. “No. About it. Us. Whatever it was we had finished when you left. If you’d have at least phoned or texted or ... I dunno. Left a post it note ... then maybe I’d consider it differently.”
“You ... you want to end it?”
“It was already over, Jack.”
“Oh ...” he breathed. “I don’t ... I don’t want it to end ...”
“You should have thought that - no, scrap that - you should have thought of me before you went running off to wherever it is you went.”
Ianto glared at him, and he kept his eyes on the coat slung over his arm, picking some lint from the top.
“Where did you go?” Ianto asked quietly.
Jack raised his eyes, biting his lip and saying nothing.
Ianto sighed in exasperation, and shut the door in his face.
The telly went off, the remote went back in its place next to the DVD controller and the empty glass Ianto had had milk in was washed out, dried and put back in its cupboard. Upside down, never the right way up. There was a time when Ianto wasn’t home enough for his cups not to get dust in them, and leaving them upside down became a habit. They were easier to store too, he’d found. He could put them in little pyramids of three glasses, and that looked better and felt neater than just putting them in wherever they fitted.
He hesitated, hearing a thump behind the front door, and frowned to himself. He crossed to the window and squinted out at the car park, searching out the silhouette of the SUV trying to hide behind a Transit van. Ianto crossed to the door, pulled it open and jumped back as Jack, who had been sat leaning on it, tumbled backwards onto his feet.
“Normally, when someone shuts a door in your face, you’re supposed to leave.” he scowled. Jack remained on the floor, shuffling a little so that he was back in the corridor and leaning against the wall, knees drawn up.
“Yeah ... I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
Ianto shrugged.
“Okay.”
He let the door swing shut again, noisily slid the chain on and clattered the bolt home.
Ianto switched off the living room light, crawled into bed, pulled the light-pull above his head and snuggled down to sleep.
~*~*~*~
The alarm went off far too soon, and Ianto groaned and rubbed his eyes, sitting up and pulling the switch for the light. He yawned widely, his eyes still itching with tiredness and thoughts of bacon sandwiches and glasses of cold orange juice dragged him out of bed. He washed and shaved first, examining the stitches on his collarbone from where shrapnel had sliced his skin the week before. It looked like it was healing well, and they were due to come out soon.
Opening his wardrobe, he picked out a pinstripe suit and white shirt, choosing a black leather belt with a silver buckle. He procrastinated over which tie to wear, before eventually settling on a red one two-toned with gold. Two minutes later he took it off, remembering why he’d bought it. Jack was supposed to be taking him to a Red and Gold party (for work purposes) and he’d seen that tie and thought it was perfect. He now swapped it for a purple tie, then changed his mind again going for a black one. Eventually he decided that it was all in his head, Jack wouldn’t know why he’d bought the tie and he liked it anyway. He put his red and gold one back on, turning in the mirror slightly to watch it change in the light.
Right. Washed, shaved, dressed: time for bacon. With a rumbling stomach he drew back his bedroom curtains, then did a fast double take. The SUV was still parked by the Transit van, unmoved from the night before. Frowning to himself, he crept to the front door and crouched behind it, listening carefully. What was he expecting to hear? he wondered, rolling his eyes to no one but himself and sliding the chain off and the bolt back, opening the door and looking down at the floor.
“Morning!” grinned Jack, coat thrown over him, back against the wall and knees drawn up.
Ianto simply shut the door again, pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, and decided to ignore him. He went to the fridge, pulled out his fresh pack of bacon and reached for his frying pan. In the end, his caring nature won through and he made a sandwich for Jack as well. He poured two glasses of orange juice, then went back to the door, suddenly unsure if Jack would be there.
Of course he was, his mental self scowled as Jack grinned up at him again.
“Do I smell bacon?” he asked hopefully.
“Get in.” sighed Ianto, standing aside while Jack struggled to force his probably now very stiff legs into a standing position, his knees popping as they fought gravity to get their owner upright. “BOOTS!” Ianto practically yelled, and Jack jumped sky-high.
“Wh-what about them?” he asked, looking down at them and checking.
“Take them off! The carpet is ruined enough without grubby boots walking all over them.” Jack didn’t move. “Off! Now!”
Jack sprung into action, his stomach grumbling as he tugged off the boots and hung up his coat on an empty peg. A blue coat should have gone at the other end of the rail, but Ianto decided to let it go this one time. Just one.
Following him into the kitchen area, Jack commented on what a lovely flat he had, and how neat and tidy it was. He seemed quite enthusiastic about the television, and Ianto decided that maybe it was time to get a flat screen if Jack thought it was cool.
The Captain wolfed down his bacon sandwich gratefully and downed the orange in one, but politely waited until Ianto offered him more rather than asking.
“Heyyy!” Jack noticed. “You’ve got a fish!”
“Yeah. Owen gave him to me. He said that after you’d left the best thing for me was a companion of similar intelligence you.”
“You do know it’s an urban myth they only have three second memories, right?” Jack asked, as if Ianto hadn’t spoken. “They can actually remember quite a way - they even recognise people.”
“I watched that episode of QI too, Jack.” sighed Ianto. “Are you done? Can we go?”
“Aren’t we going to talk first?”
“No.” replied Ianto bluntly, taking the plates and glasses and putting them in the sink. He glanced at the clock, knowing that in order to wash up properly he’d have to make himself late - but he couldn’t stand the thought of dirty things in the sink all day. He’d be distracted. Maybe if he walked at twice the speed, or listened to music to make him walk to a quicker beat he would be able to make up time ...
“I’ll give you a lift in the SUV if you want to wash up.” Jack offered, knowing what Ianto was thinking.
Ianto glanced at him over his shoulder, then nodded silently. He turned on the hot tap, rinsing everything off before filling up the sink with the soapy water. Ianto needed to wash things three times - sometimes more - and Jack knew that. He’d only commented on it once, when he’d watched Ianto washing mugs in the hub, rinsing them, washing them in the bowl, drying them and repeating again and again. He’d asked why he did it, making Ianto jump, not knowing he’d been watched. Ianto lied, saying it was because he’d spotted bits he’d missed after he’d dried them. Jack just frowned, then smiled, then said ‘Okay’ and left him to it. Ianto hadn’t been self-conscious about doing it in front of Jack since then, feeling like he might understand a little. Until now.
He promised himself he’d only wash them once - he knew full well that once was enough - but as he went to tip out the water from the sink he felt that itch and that urge and he had to make sure.
Screw what Jack might think or understand.
He reached for the frying pan again, drying it and dunking it back in the water to soak. He dried the glasses and the plates, set them on the side and started using the sponge on the pan again. Eyes were still boring into the back of him, and Ianto sensed Jack’s boot-less feet padding towards him. From the corner of his eye he saw Jack pick up the towel and start drying the frying pan he’d just put on the draining board. Without a word he set it next to the sink ready to be washed again, moving to dry the glasses and plates as Ianto finished with them.
They kept the cycle going until Ianto felt comfortable that everything was in order, then put his crockery away before pulling on his jacket and going to fetch shoes from the wardrobe. He slipped them on just behind the door while Jack laced up his boots, and Ianto reached for his special coat again, thinking about the boost it gave him.
“Love the coat, by the way.” Jack commented as they walked together across the car park.
“Gwen and Toshiko bought it for my birthday.” he told him.
“Gwen and Toshiko? Must have been expensive. A little nice to be wearing on a day-to-day basis ...”
“I don’t find the cost important. The fact they thought about me long enough to get together, decide what to get me and split the price is enough for me. And I don’t wear it day-to-day. I wear it when I feel like shit so that it makes me feel better.”
Jack tried to hold his tongue, but couldn’t help it. “You look gorgeous in it.”
“Don’t.” Ianto didn’t want to sound like he was pleading.
“You do though.” Jack muttered, mainly to himself. He unlocked the SUV and they both climbed inside, pulling the doors shut and their seatbelts on. Jack fired the ignition, revving the engine a bit while Ianto rolled his eyes.
“Show off.” he chastised.
Jack shrugged and pulled out of the parking space, ignoring a group of school kids gawping at the car. Well, pretending to ignore them. He loved it when people stared at the SUV.
It occurred to Ianto that clearly, Jack had known that he’d forgotten his car yesterday. He resisted the urge to bang his head on the window, wondering what Jack must think of his petulant stubbornness, before reminding himself he no longer cared what Jack thought. Caring what Jack thought ended when Jack left (supposedly).
“Erm ... Jack?” Ianto frowned. “Work’s that way ...” he pointed.
“There was an accident last night and there might still be debris on the road. S’why it took me so long to get to yours.”
“Oh. Okay. I didn’t see anything.”
“I can u-turn and go that way if you want. We’ll be late, but -”
“I said ‘okay’.” Ianto snapped.
“Calm down.” Jack tried with a laugh.
Ianto gave him a death glare and his smile faded. He concentrated on the road in front of him, shifting in his seat a little when they paused at a pelican crossing.
“Shit.” Ianto suddenly gasped, ducking down low.
“What?”
“That’s my sister with my niece and nephew.” he hissed, raising his head slightly to check if they’d seen him before lowering it again sharply.
“Which ones? Ahhhh yeah I think I can guess which one’s your sister. She’s got her back to us now.”
Ianto checked, then sat up properly and tried to straighten out his coat.
“She thinks I’m a civil servant.” he explained.
“And?”
“Well ... I’m not am I. I’m in the Torchwood vehicle.”
“Maybe you were just getting a lift.” shrugged the Captain.
“We’re facing the wrong direction for where she thinks I work.” Ianto pointed out.
“Maybe you’re with me. Maybe it’s ‘Take Your Welshman To Work Day’.”
Ianto smiled a little, then nearly jumped a mile when someone knocked on his window. Steeling himself, he wound the window down and tried to smile warmly.
“Rhiannon!” he grinned.
“Alright. Spotted you and thought we’d say ‘hi’, didn’t we kids?”
They chorused a ‘yeahhhh’, and little Mica waved at him.
“Um ... hi?” he offered.
“What you doin’ this side of town then?” she asked, then seemed to notice Jack. “... and who’s this?”
“Cap’n Ja-”
“My neighbour. My starter motor’s gone so he’s giving me a lift.”
“Lucky you.” she muttered under her breath.
“Don’t.” Ianto rolled his eyes. “First day back at school, kids?” he asked the children, changing the subject. David groaned and nodded, while Mica remained enthusiastic.
“I’m in Year One now.” she said importantly.
“You’re growing up really fast.” he smiled.
“I don’t wanna grow up! I’ll get boring and old like you!” she cheekily grinned.
“Not as old as your mammy.” Ianto scowled.
Mica frowned in confusion. “Mam’s only eighteen.”
“Is she now?” Ianto asked with mock incredulity. “I think someone might be telling white lies.”
“Let me have my fun!” grinned Rhiannon. “Anyway, we’re all going to be late, and you’re causing a queue.”
“Ahhh well. Okay, buh bye, Rhi. See ya Mica, David.”
They chorused a ‘byeee’ as people began hitting their horns, and Jack pulled away from the pavement smoothly, letting the traffic flow again, the lights of the pelican long ago changed.
“Your sister seems nice.” Jack commented after a moment or so of silence.
“She is. Don’t ever, ever talk to her.”
“Just saying.” Jack murmured. “And you could at least be civil.”
“Everything considered, I am being civil.”
“Civil isn’t constantly snapping.”
“‘Civility is relative to the misdeed.’” Ianto quoted.
“I was always going to come back.”
“You weren’t.”
“I was.”
“If you’d planned on coming back, you’d have left something telling us you were coming back so that we wouldn’t be quite so pissed off.”
“I didn’t intend to be gone so long!” argued Jack. “I thought ... a week at the most. But ... time travel isn’t that simple. We were a little off the mark, and after everything the TARDIS went through, I’m amazed she got the right year, never mind decade. So at least be grateful I turned up in the righ -”
“Grateful? Did you just say I should be grateful you came back? Grateful, because we couldn’t possibly function without you, Jack? Grateful that you messed everything up again? Grateful that you messed me up again?”
“Ianto, I didn -”
“You’re right. I should be grateful. Because at least in you coming back I really, really know where I stand.”
“And where do you stand?” Jack asked quietly.
“A respectful step behind, ready to clean up after you, sir.”
“That ... you ... we could at least try. One date? Just one.”
“No.”
“Well ... we’ll rent a DVD. Watch it at your place? I liked your place.”
“No.”
“A walk?”
“No.”
“A talk?”
“No.”
“A kiss?”
Ianto closed his eyes, biting his lip, then blinked as he realised where they were. Jack was parking the SUV in its spot in the garage, getting ready to climb out. Ianto unclipped his seatbelt and followed.
“Ianto?”
“What?”
“You didn’t answer me.”
“Answer you for what?”
“I asked if we could kiss. Just once.”
He stepped closer, and Ianto tried to step back but the SUV was in the way. Jack hadn’t stood this close to him for over three months, and the pheromones were already intoxicating his system. Ianto knew Jack was doing it on purpose, getting close to him, affecting him. That was his tactic when he wanted something. Just don’t look him in the eye, Ianto's head screamed, but he raised his head anyway and found himself trapped in that gaze.
He knew he could get away if only he could look away, but their blue eyes were locked, magnetised closer, lips trembling and Ianto knew he was lost already. Jack’s hands were leaning on the SUV either side of him, holding him there, his body so close Ianto could feel the heat of him through his own layers of clothes.
“You’re only lost if you think you are, Ianto ...” a voice in his head whispered. It distracted him, and he blinked and huddled into his coat.
“If you’ve got handprints on the windows, I’ll kill you.” he snapped, pushed past Jack and strode quickly into the hub. Jack shoved his hands into his pockets as he watched Ianto leave, smiling to himself.
“Thanks!” he called, and Ianto hesitated.
“What for?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Well, if you’d have kissed me and walked away, I’d have believed you truly wanted this to be over.”
Ianto opened and closed his mouth, but was unable to think of anything to say. Eventually, he decided to repeat himself. “It already is over.”
He turned on his heel and slammed the doors shut behind him, deciding the team could forego their morning coffee and blame it on Jack, heading for the Archives and thinking about finally setting about re-filing the complete bomb site that was Mission Records 1941-43. He walked briskly to the room he needed, hesitated inside the door and glanced up at the CCTV camera in the corner. The little red light blinked innocently, and Ianto practically glared at it before reaching into his jacket and pulling out his little pen device to switch it off.
Satisfied he was alone and unwatched, he turned on his Archiving Auto Pilot and set to work, hardly registering the time passing by until there was a knock on the door. He bit back his annoyance before clocking it was Toshiko, not Jack, and gave her a welcoming smile.
“Alright, Tosh?” he asked.
“Fine, Ianto. I ... bought you some coffee. We couldn’t get the machine to work and Jack said you were really busy so ...”
“Come in, come in.” he gestured. “Thanks.” He took the cup of coffee from her, trying a sip and desperately ignoring the burnt beans hidden and masked behind a veil of hazelnut syrup and sugar. “Mmmm.” he smiled as she sat down.
“So ... how are you?” she asked awkwardly.
His smile faded and he sighed. “I’m coping.”
“But ... how are you, though?”
He sighed again, heavier. “I’m all ... confused again. He’s ... coming on to me again. He wants to pick up from where we left off, or start again, or just something ... and I’m not so sure I want to.”
“Mmm. Did you talk about ... y’know ... anything?”
“He won’t even tell me where he was, Tosh.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah.”
“I’d have thought he’d at least tell you ...”
“He hardly told me anything before,” Ianto muttered. “I suppose I only thought he would now because we were directly affected. He left us! And you know what he told me this morning? I should be grateful he came back!”
“Aren’t you?”
“No, not really.” Tosh gave him a pointed look. “Okay ... a little. I’m grateful as a member of the team that we’ve got our proper leader back. But ... as a ...friend? Whatever it was I was supposed to be to him ... I’m not. I wish he’d just stayed away. Things would have been so much simpler if he’d just stayed away.”
“It’s more fun when he’s around though.” Tosh quoted his words back to him, with a slight smile.
“Yeah.” Ianto conceded quietly. “But that was yesterday, still in shock that he’d just come back out of nowhere. Now that he’s back, and now that I’ve thought about it ... I just want our relationship to be professional. I don’t want to get tangled up in an affair again.”
“You mean you don’t want to get hurt again.” Tosh observed, sipping her own coffee and watching him over the brim.
“That too.” Ianto sighed.
“You won’t give him a chance?”
Ianto raised an eyebrow. “Does he deserve another chance?”
“He gave you another chance.” Tosh pointed out, refusing to acknowledge Ianto's flinch.
“That was ... different. I was ... that was ...”
“You don’t need to explain anything to me.” Toshiko said. “I forgave you the moment I learnt who she was. All I’m saying is you made a mistake, and he made a mistake. Equal pegging?”
“What about the ‘just a mistake’ he made in nineteen-forty-one?” he challenged. “Wasn’t that his first chance, really?”
“You know what he’s like when it comes to boundaries ... and ... there was that one chance and he took it.”
“He didn’t even mention me while you were there. You said so yourself.”
Toshiko bit her lip. “You didn’t see them together, Ianto.”
“No, I didn’t. And he won’t talk to me about it either.”
Toshiko sipped her coffee silently while Ianto stared into his cardboard cup, lost in thought.
“He came round to my flat last night.” he told her quietly. “I shut the door in his face, and he sat out in the corridor all night, refusing to move.”
“He’s trying.” shrugged Toshiko. “Ianto, I think ... the way he hints ... I think he had to go. I think it was his only chance to find out what happened to him.”
“Not. Even. A. Text.”
“Fair point.” Toshiko sighed, making herself ready to get up. “I suppose if I was in your position, I’d be too scared to get involved again, too.”
“I’m not scared.” scowled Ianto. “I just have standards.”
“Insanely high standards, it seems.”
“Excuse me for asking for fidelity, and maybe a quick note when my partner disappears for three months.”
“You’re right, you’re right. Though I do doubt he’d hurt you again after this.”
“He probably would.”
“He probably wouldn’t.”
“But what if he does?”
“But what if he doesn’t?”
“I suppose we’ll never find out.” he said, folding his arms and watching her walk to the door.
“No, I suppose we won’t.” she told him sadly. “Pity, really. You two would be so great together. Anyone can tell - it’s a shame you’re in denial.”
She shut the door behind her so that she wouldn’t see Ianto's scowl, and began to try and find her way back up to the main hub. Ianto took a few minutes break to finish his coffee, then set back to work on organising the endless stacks of paper that had just been dumped in the room. He found himself sniffling a little, the backs of his eyes suddenly being attacked by thousands of little daggers as tears tried to fight their way forth. Tiny splashes of water smudged the copperplate handwriting of the reports in front of him, and he had to cover his face with his hands as he got it all out of his system, not fighting back and just letting it go.
Recovered, and feeling better, he carried on as if he hadn’t just broken down, taking a mental note to bring down some more filing cabinets to this room and move the contents of the few currently here into the ‘To Be Organised’ piles. He worked away with Auto Pilot turned on, not really concentrating on what he was doing and taking comfort from the ordering and organising and making sense of everything that filing seemed to bring. He wondered if it was odd that he enjoyed filing, but it was his catharsis and that’s all that really concerned him.
He checked his watch when about half the room was done, and was nearly shocked to see it was three ‘o’ clock. The team won’t have eaten! he silently fumed, switching the CCTV camera back on and locking up the room. He met Gwen wandering around one of the higher floors, and she looked so relieved to see him she nearly hugged him.
“I thought I was going to be lost forever!” she almost wailed.
“It’s two lefts back to the main hub.” Ianto told her with a grin, and her face fell.
“Oh ... oh ... right. Panic over nothing!” she grinned, linking his arm. “C’mon, we’re a-wasting away up here.”
“I knew you wouldn’t have eaten.” he sighed. “Can’t you do anything for yourselves?”
“We would have ordered something, but then you’d have been arsey at us for doing your job.” she winked. “Besides, you’re the only one who can get them to deliver the right order. They always mess it up if one of us does it.”
Ianto smiled smugly to himself. The people who worked in all the take-aways knew that they had to get any Torchwood order wrong that wasn’t placed by himself. It took a little flirting and the occasional bribe of good coffee, but it secured him as Official Provider of Food. Another reason why they all had to be nice to him these days.
They emerged into the main hub, and Ianto dialled for pizza, ordered the usual and started gathering money together. He could feel Jack’s eyes on him, and fell into his old habit of teasing him a little, bending a little lower than necessary or reaching further than he’d need to so that his sleeve would pull back and the bare skin of his wrist would be revealed. After his jacket came off, that’s where Jack always went first. Out with the cufflinks, push the sleeves up a little way ... tongue and teeth and lips on his pulse point ...
Ianto decided he’d done it out of spite, not because he wanted to tease Jack in the good way of old. Jack was making his way over, so Ianto quickly slid out through the cog door and up to the Tourist Centre to wait for the pizzas. Jack didn’t follow him, and he relaxed into his chair, logging into his computer to check his emails. There weren’t many - one from Jack, a couple from Gwen about the wedding and one from Owen begging for coffee. He clicked open the one from Jack first, and scanned it. It was a round robin, sent to the entire team and didn’t contain anything of much importance - a couple of changes, a reminder or two - so he deleted it and moved onto the ones from Gwen.
He’d had almost enough of this wedding as Rhys had.
Why had he been roped into organising basically everything again?
The intercom buzzed, and the pizza boy’s voice called “Pizza!” through the speakers. Ianto pressed the button to release the door, and the guy came in.
“Just put them there.” Ianto indicated and smiled. “How much?”
“Thirty-two quid.”
Ianto did a double take, noticing the boy - what was he? Nineteen? - had gone bright red. He’d delivered the pizzas a couple of times, and always seemed to flush a deep crimson if Ianto looked at him. He was staring, though, and Ianto frowned. “What?”
“Nothing.” The boy flushed deeper.
Ianto smiled, and the kid seemed to stare at him for a couple more seconds. Ianto raised an eyebrow.
“Are you gay?” the pizza boy blurted out.
Ianto blinked.
“Sorry ...” he murmured. “... just ... nothing ... ignore me ...”
“Here’s your money. Take the other three quid as tip.” Ianto told him, trying not to sound annoyed or short.
The kid muttered his thanks, still bright red.
“What’s your name?” Ianto asked him.
“Ugh ... Daniel. Please don’t report me ... I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s okay. Go on ...” Ianto shooed him.
He turned and practically bolted out of the door. Ianto took a deep breath.
“Oh ... and Daniel?”
Daniel loitered in the door, looking like a deer in the headlights.
“... I’m bisexual.” Ianto winked.
Daniel grinned a little, then remembered himself and hurried out, shutting the door a little too quick behind him. Ianto gathered up the pizzas, then paused as the intercom buzzed again. He pressed the button for the door release and it swung back to reveal Daniel stood there again, looking a little nauseated.
“Yes?” asked Ianto.
“You never told me your name.”
The way he said made Ianto sure he’d been stood outside battling with himself for two minutes, trying to pluck up the courage to ask.
“I’m Ianto.” he smiled.
“Ianto.” Daniel repeated, feeling the name on his tongue. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor. “Um ... I ... I was wondering ... if you would l-like to go for a drink sometime?”
Ianto regarded him carefully. He wasn’t particularly good looking, but he had a kindness to his demeanour and he was clearly either only just out, or was in the closet.
“We’ve only just met.” Ianto sighed, putting the pizzas down.
“And ... meeting again ... would be ... bad?” Daniel took his cap off and wrung it between his hands.
“Why do you want to meet me again?” Ianto asked, wondering if he was being asked simply because his sexuality meant he might possibly have an interest, Daniel thought him good-looking or he just wanted sex. Looking at him, and his nerves, Ianto guessed he probably hadn’t had much sex, if any.
“You just seem ... likeable. A bit old for me, but ... I dunno. You seem to have respect for people. And a job. And ... well ... you just seem nice.”
“A ‘bit old for you’? I’m twenty-four!” scowled Ianto.
Daniel turned beetroot red. “Sorry. You ... you look ...”
“Old?”
“Older.”
“Older ...” pondered Ianto. “I can live with that. And how old are you, since you know my age?”
“Twenty. Just.”
“... and I look too old for you?” laughed Ianto.
Daniel shuffled again. “Sorry ... I didn’t mean to offend ...”
“It’s alright, Daniel. I’m not offended. I suppose I do look older than I am.”
“Sorry.” Daniel muttered again. “Um ... so ...”
“So when were you planning on taking me for this drink?” Ianto brought the subject back around for him.
His face lit up. “Erm ... well ... I gotta work on most nights, but Tu-Tuesday I’m good.”
“We may have to make it a lunchtime.” Ianto considered. “Tomorrow lunch? About one ‘o’ clock?”
“Yeah I can make that. Definitely. Um ... erm ... where should we ...?”
“Just meet me on the Plass. By the tower. We’ll figure it out from there.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Um ... see you ... tomorrow, then?”
“Yep. See ya.”
Daniel smiled a little before slipping out through the door and shutting it behind him, and Ianto smiled to himself. First rule of moving on: date others. At least he thought that may be the first rule. He wasn’t overly sure.
Picking up the pizzas again, he flipped the sign to ‘Closed’ and made his way down to the hub. He wondered idly if, had Jack not come back, he would have accepted the offer. He had turned down a girl in a bar a few weeks ago, but just before Jack came back he was feeling better and starting to move on. He had, since Jack had left, been celibate. He hadn’t so much as kissed another person’s lips since Jack’s resurrection. Would he be going for a drink with Daniel as a step towards moving on, or a ploy to make Jack jealous? Maybe it was both.
The cog door rolled back and there was something close to cheering when he entered the hub with the pizza. Gwen, Owen and Tosh pretty much jumped him in an attempt to find their favourite toppings. Jack was a little slower, making sure his and Ianto's fingers brushed when he took the box from him, and it then occurred to Ianto that in ‘the usual’ order, his and Jack’s toppings were half-and-halved over one pizza. He’d originally ordered them like that so that he’d have an excuse to sit close to Jack. Now he wished he’d ordered his with Toshiko’s.
They ate in silence, more from ravenous hunger than any other reason, and Ianto was just clearing away the boxes when Jack called him to his office. Ianto glanced over at Toshiko, who was suddenly very absorbed with a matrix of alien symbols covering several of her monitors, before setting down his rubbish bag and making his way over to Jack’s office.
“You wanted to see me?”
“I always want to see you.” Jack smiled, flirtatious glint shining in his eyes. Ianto simply rolled his.
“Is this work related, or can I go?”
“It’s a bit of both.” Jack admitted. “I’m finding it very difficult to concentrate on work with you ... around.”
“I’ve been down in the Archives.” Ianto pointed out. “Well out of your way.”
“That doesn’t mean I can stop thinking about you. I haven’t got any paperwork done. Look.” Jack pointed at his In Tray and Out Tray, showing the drastic difference in the size of each tray’s contents.
“I don’t see any difference to one of your normal days.” Ianto replied stoically. “From what I recall, you never did paperwork anyway.”
“Worth a try.” shrugged Jack, sitting in his chair and clasping his hands on the desk in front of him.
“Is ... that it?” Ianto asked, itching to leave.
“Nope.” grinned Jack. “I really think you should kiss me, Ianto.” he finished seriously. Ianto sighed.
“Stand up.” he ordered.
Jack stood. Ianto crossed to him, pressed their lips together then pulled back again. While Jack was still surprised, he turned on his heel and forced himself to walk away, head held high and gait confident, back to the Archives.
Operation Ianto Is Moving On had officially begun.
~*~*~*~
Ianto had chosen purple shirt, plain black three-piece suit and black, sheer tie. He took a little aftershave to work with him in case he ended up doing anything active, as well as his little tub of hair wax. For the third day in a row he wore the coat Gwen and Toshiko had given him, though this time to impress rather than his own self-confidence.
“You’ve made up with Jack, then?” Toshiko smiled when she entered the Tourist Office. Ianto frowned in confusion.
“Erm ... no?”
“Oh ...” her face fell. “Why are you all ... glowy?” she asked.
“Glowy?” he repeated.
“Yeah. Like ... oh Lord - have you met someone?”
“Kinda. I have a sort of date later. Not a particularly ... instant chemistry kinda guy ... but he seems nice. Give him a chance at least.” he shrugged.
“Oh ... right.” Toshiko mumbled. “Well ... okay. If you’re happy ... I’ll see you later then!” she tried, attempting to smile brightly.
“See ya.” He pressed the red button for the secret door and she slipped through it.
Half an hour later, Gwen arrived. “Oh ... hello, Ianto! You’re looking really well.”
“Thanks.” he smiled, pressing the button for the door and watching her go.
An hour later, Owen dragged himself through the door and scowled at him. “Have you been taking Pro Plus again?”
“No.”
“Who shagged you?”
“Nobody.”
“... who’s going to shag you? And if you say ‘Jack’ I’m going to shut your bollocks in a vice. Admittedly not as tight a vice as I might’ve used a couple o’ days ago, but I’m sure it’ll smart a bit.”
“His name’s Daniel. And I have no intention of shagging him just yet.”
“Woteva.” Owen sighed. “Lemme through ... need to get a drip for this hangover ...”
Ianto pressed the button and the secret door swung open, then closed behind Owen as he wandered absently down towards the hub. Ianto checked his watch: ten thirty. Jack was going to go mental at Owen. He’d never been this late before. Ianto tapped his fingers idly on the desk in front of him, wondering what to do to burn time.
He was secretly getting excited about the drink with Daniel, even though he didn’t even know him, and started to think about how it might go. He was already short listing a couple of places in his head where they couldn’t go, but he felt he should probably leave the decision to Daniel. He could probably just about cope going somewhere Jack had taken him, but those places were so few the chances of Daniel picking one were quite slim.
Ianto managed not to jump when the secret door hissed open and Jack came through, carrying a chair.
“Thought I might keep you company.” he said quietly, setting down the chair and sitting in it slowly, waiting for Ianto to tell him to leave.
Ianto found things to do on his computer, updating databases and re-typing Owen’s hand-scribbled reports. Jack sat beside him silently, occasionally pointing out an error or suggesting a better wording for Owen’s work. He didn’t try and get close to Ianto, or to invade him any way other than being there. He made no suggestive comments or innuendos, and he didn’t touch unless it was at least masked to look accidental.
At about twelve, the air conditioning broke, pumping hot air into the room and practically suffocating them. Ianto had only removed his jacket, but Jack had his dress shirt off, braces slung low by his hips and his t-shirt practically sticking to his frame as he stood on the chair, trying to turn the unit off. Finally it ground to a halt, and Ianto offered him a tissue to mop his brow.
“Can’t we leave the door open?” asked Jack, fanning himself with a file.
“If we leave it open longer than a few minutes, an alarm goes off.” sighed Ianto, trying to use his sweaty fingers to prise the dead batteries out of his hand-held fan and replace them with new ones. Eventually he had to use a pen to lever them out, popping in the new ones and making an almost orgasmic sound when the cold air breezed over his face.
Jack gave a small laugh. “I can make you make noises like that.” he whispered seductively.
“You could make me make noises like that.” Ianto corrected. “Past tense, Jack.”
“I still could, if you’d let me ...”
For the first time since the SUV, Jack moved entirely into Ianto's space, bypassing his lips and going to kiss his neck. Ianto groaned as hot tongue left a trail of cool saliva on his heated skin, coupled with the cold air moving over his face and jaw. “Stop, Jack ...” he whispered, though he made no effort to push him away, raising his chin and giving him better access.
His body was reacting, craving the intimacy, and it felt so good to have Jack so close and doing that thing with his teeth and tongue ...
“Don’t mark me!” Ianto suddenly gasped, pushing him back and reaching for a mirror in his drawer.
“Sorry ... got ... carried away ...”
“I’ll say! Oh no ... teeth marks ...” groaned Ianto, seeing the little indentations just behind his ear. “I don’t think it’ll bruise though ...”
“What’s wron - is there someone else?” Jack suddenly became very stiff.
Ianto closed his eyes and sighed. “His name’s Daniel. And ... I don’t really know him ... I only just met him ... but ... he’s nice. It’s nothing special. He’s just taking me for a drink.”
“Then you shouldn’t worry about me marking you.”
“I’m not sure what he wants.”
“So ... you’re going out with him and just going to give him what he wants?”
“It’s what you expected of me.” Ianto challenged.
Jack took a deep breath. “Fine.” he said eventually. “Fine. Just ... you have a good time. When’s he ... taking you out?”
“Later.”
“And if all he wants is sex?”
“I’m not adverse to the idea of a casual relationship.” shrugged Ianto. “In fact I’d almost welcome the idea. I seem to remember my last attempt at a proper relationship ended in abandonment.”
“Ianto ... you ... when did you meet him?”
“Last night.”
“After you ... kissed me ...?”
“Before.”
“I see. Well, good luck then.”
“... is that it?”
“Yeah.”
Ianto shrugged. “Okay. Well ... I’m gonna go and ... grab my lunch. You lot can fend for yourselves.”
~*~*~*~
They settled on getting some lunch instead of just a drink, and Daniel took him to a little pub that played only rock music and served some of the best chips Ianto had ever eaten in his entire life. He’d have to come back here again, maybe with Toshiko. Ianto hadn’t told Jack he was seeing Daniel for lunch, and didn’t even feel guilty about it.
They picked a booth and sat down, ordered two pints and sat and with a bowl of chips and a burger each.
“So ... Daniel ... you seem ... closeted.” Ianto tried gently.
Daniel turned red. “I ... my dad’s a bit ... militant.”
Ianto frowned and nodded.
“He’d probably chuck me out. He’s old fashioned like that.”
“And your mam?”
“She knows. I think she’s always known ... but ... with my dad ... y’know ... What about your parents?”
“Both dead.” shrugged Ianto. “And my sister has no idea. Hopefully.”
“Hopefully?” Daniel frowned.
“She’s all I’ve got left, but ... I don’t know how she’ll react. I hardly know her anymore, so can’t really ... gauge. For the right guy I’d risk it though.”
“Yeah. I see.” Daniel munched on a chip. “So ... when did you realise you were bi?”
“Just over a year ago. Look, are we gonna talk about sexuality all day? I’m sure there’s plenty of other things to talk about.” Ianto tried to move the subject on.
“Sure, sure ...” conceded Daniel. “Erm ... I dunno if ... cuz like ... I really like you, Ianto.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow. “We’ve only just met.”
“Yeah but ... I dunno what it is.”
Ianto sighed. “Let’s get this out in the open: what do you want from me?”
Daniel blinked.
“Why did you ask me out? What were you thinking? A relationship? A casual relationship? A quick shag?”
Daniel had turned red again, and Ianto couldn’t help but think it was sweet.
“I ... I just liked you so ... went for it. I’ve never plucked up the courage to ask before ... and I ... just ... I’ve never had a proper boyfriend or anything ...”
“You’re desperate to lose your virginity?” Ianto asked bluntly.
Daniel flamed again.
“You’re gonna do yourself an injury if you keep flushing like that.” smiled Ianto. “It’s okay, Daniel. Just relax a bit, okay?”
Daniel swallowed. “Am I that obvious?” He put his head in his hands and sighed. “I decided to do the whole ‘waiting for the right guy’ thing ... but ... I’m going out of my mind!” he gave a weak laugh, and Ianto returned it. “I saw you ... and ... you look ... and .... I dunno. You seemed like what my type might be. Though ... a little more sexually confident than a lot of people I’ve met ...”
“I’ve learnt to simply put cards on the table and see whether or not someone will pick them up. It makes everything so much easier than the whole ... dancing around the subject. At the end of the day, everything boils down to having sex, so talking about it makes the actual ‘having’ part a lot easier.” He winked and sipped his lager.
“So ... would ... would you ... y’know ...” Daniel became very interested in his beer mat as he spoke.
Ianto rolled his eyes. “Would you like to get to know me better here or in my flat?”
“That simple?” blinked Daniel. “I could be anyone.”
“Isn’t that mostly the point?”
Daniel bit his lip. “Okay. But ...”
“Anything you don’t want to do, just say so. Control is yours. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of you.”
“Won’t you be late for work?”
“I have the afternoon off.” he lied.
~*~*~*~
Continued Here ....
damaged_silver index/masterlist
Chapter: This is only half of it!
Author: a_silver_story
Genre Angst, Romance, bits of smut.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: ManOnMan. Nom.
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs RTD and the BBC, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary: Set after Kiss Kiss Bang Bang but before Sleeper, I wrote this for NaNoWriMo 2009 but lost half of it when I was forced to get a new laptop. I have what was saved in my google.docs, which is less than half, but better than nothing! It's AU, and it's a 'let's make Jack suffer!' fic, really. It's Ianto P.O.V, and I promise everything will work out fine when I get around to re-writing the second half.
“Where were you?”
Jack looked away, suddenly very interested in whatever it was on his desk. His expression hardened, and his shoulders tensed.
“Jack?”
“Ianto, I don’t want to talk about it.” he said shortly.
“I do.” muttered Ianto darkly, setting the mug of coffee down. He turned on his heel and heard Jack call after him:
“I’m never going to talk about it.”
Ianto would normally have left it there, but this time it was different. This time, he himself was involved in the nightmare; Jack had left him, and he needed to know why. Ianto wasn’t so simple as not to recognise the blue Police box he’d spent his time at Torchwood one being trained to find, nor to realise Jack’s hero-worship of the alien that travelled around in it.
He’d known deep down that Jack would leave, and after three months of silence and not a trace of him to be found, Ianto was preparing to move on. What had they really had, anyway? A bit of an infatuation, maybe. If that. Ianto was grateful to himself for not loving him - that would have been far too hard. He’d have been in a worse place than he was after Lisa died, knowing that Lisa had no choice but to leave him while Jack had made the conscious decision. Not even a goodbye, Ianto thought bitterly. No note. No indication. Not even a phone call.
Jack had boasted about how the Doctor could make your phone work from anywhere in the Universe and you could phone home in the right time period, have a conversation like you were sat on your couch in your flat while really you were in the year seven billion and one sipping some strange cocktail while watching the locals arm wrestle over pie.
Why hadn’t Jack called? If it was so easy, why hadn’t he called?
The others had already gone home for the night, seemingly in better moods after Jack’s first day back at work. Ianto thought of the day before, of turning around and seeing Jack there playing his Big Damn Hero, grinning at them with that twinkle in his eyes. He thought of Captain John Hart, the way he’d looked at him and called him Eye-Candy. Was that all he was to Jack, too? Something pretty to look at, to string along and all too willing to screw. He’d asked him on a date, though. Didn’t that mean he wanted more? He said he’d been thinking of him while he was away. But he’d mentioned nothing since, and he’d had plenty of chance to at the hotel they’d stayed in the night before. Had he just asked to break the tension? God, Ianto was so confused.
After about half an hour of cleaning the silent hub, Ianto heard the soft fall of Jack’s footsteps approaching behind him.
“Hey,” Jack said softly. “I was thinking ... the Rift was really noisy today, so it’ll probably be quite quiet for the next few hours at least. So ... if ... y’know ... you’re hungry or anything ...”
“I’m not.” snapped Ianto.
“Maybe ... just the movies, then?”
“Nothing on that appeals.” he replied curtly, moving down to the medical bay to tidy up Owen’s instruments. Jack loitered on the balcony, leaning his hands on the railing and watching him. Ianto could feel his eyes burning into the back of his neck. “What?”
“I ... you said ... you said you wanted to ... y’know ...”
“You caught me by surprise,” muttered Ianto. “I’ve had a think since then.”
“So ... you don’t ...?” Jack asked sullen, and Ianto didn’t want to turn and see if there was any hurt in his expression.
“I don’t know anymore.” he sighed. “When I said ‘yes’ I suppose I at least expected you to have enough respect for me to at least tell me where you’ve been.” He carefully adjusted the small instruments on their sterilised tray, making sure they were all perpendicular to the bottom edge and parallel to each other. He knew Owen would mess it up, but he could always re-adjust afterwards.
Jack hadn’t replied yet, and Ianto was just starting to think he’d maybe slunk off when he heard the sound of rubber on concrete behind him. A warm hand slid around his shoulders from behind, and he closed his eyes as he began willing himself not to simply fall into Jack’s arms. Jack could sense Ianto's struggle, keeping his distance a little. He didn’t press them together, or stand so close Ianto would feel crowded by hot breath on his neck. Just an arm around his shoulder and over his chest, intimately reminding him that Jack was there without completely invading his personal space.
Ianto hesitated a moment, allowing it. He steeled himself, side stepped away from the touch and turned to brush past the Captain without making eye contact. He climbed the stairs quickly and left Jack on his own, making his way to the cog door, grabbing his coat from the stand and his car keys.
“Power down yourself.” he called back as the door rolled aside, and he strode purposefully through before remembering his car was in the Torchwood garage, and he couldn’t get to it this way. The door rolled shut behind him, and after a five-second silent battle with himself decided that walking home seemed more appealing than going back through the hub to the garage. He cursed his over-precautious security system, that would only allow people in vehicles through from the outside, rather than just people on foot. Maybe he could get Tosh to change a couple of things ...
It wasn’t too cold a night, but Ianto was grateful for his coat. Toshiko and Gwen had chipped together to buy it for him for his birthday, and he loved it. He generally only wore it for special occasions, but feeling low self-worth that morning and enjoying the boost of how good he looked in it, coupled with knowing people who loved him had bought it for him had made him feel significantly better. As did the little goldfish swimming in the bowl on the breakfast bar in his kitchen that Owen had so thoughtfully given him.
“Now Jack’s gone, I figured you’d need something of similar intelligence to him to take care of.”
Ianto had laughed, trying not to let on that, in truth, he did indeed need someone to take care of. It’s how he dealt with everything Torchwood threw at him. The others all seemed to turn inwards; Toshiko throwing herself into work, Owen with his hurtful sarcasm and cynicism, Gwen and her affair. Ianto turned outwards, needing to see the good in them, needing to make them feel better, needing to take care of them, needing to love them. It didn’t matter that they didn’t always acknowledge it - they were busy, and all of them went through too much - but when they did, when they bought him coats and goldfish and shouted at each other for buying instant and possibly pissing off Ianto, he glowed inside. This is what pulls me though, he’d think to himself. Knowing that even the little things I do matter.
He let himself into his flat, hanging the coat carefully next to his not-so-important ones and taking off his shoes before carrying them through the house to put in the wardrobe. He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say he didn’t need a new carpet in the living room - parts of it were stained with spilled Lucozade from the previous tenants - but he could at least preserve some of it until he finally had time to sort it out.
He shucked his jacket, putting it on a hanger with a blue sticker on it (blue for Dry Clean Not Immediately Necessary) and hung it in the empty part of the wardrobe ready for when he needed the red-stickered hangers. He pulled off his socks, tossing them into his little basket, and put his tie back on the tie rack and his belt on its proper hook inside the wardrobe door. He did a double take, biting back annoyance as he saw the leather curl at the bottom of the belt, trying to rub out the natural wear that was really unavoidable with his finger and thumb. Eventually he used masking tape to keep it straight and parallel to the other belts - he always ended up doing it these days, it seemed - and finally shut the door confident all his clothes were currently in order.
He hid his gun in the drawer by his bed, underneath his colour-graduated pairs of socks (pairs safety-pinned together; never rolled) and went to go and feed his fish.
As he sprinkled the food into the water, Ianto wondered if his goldfish was in fact a boy or a girl, or if fish cared if they were boys or girls and even knew themselves if they were boys or girls. His fish was called Bob, because Ianto really couldn’t think of anything else, and it gave him great delight to randomly say to the fish “What’s your name?” and see its little mouth making the ‘bob bob bob bob’ shape through the water. It probably shouldn’t amuse him as much as it did.
Ianto was endlessly grateful that Bob couldn’t talk. He’d ranted and raved and shouted and screamed at the little fish in the month he’d had it, all of his most intimate secrets and fears spilling out simply because there was someone - or something - there to listen. And Bob never judged him. Bob just swam around happily, looping through his castle and nose-butting the little glass diver Ianto had bought on a random trip to Scotland that dangled on a wire from a glass bubble that floated on the water. Ianto thought back to his little trip to Scotland - it had been on one of his worse days, just waking up that morning and feeling so ... insignificant. Trapped. Abandoned.
He hadn’t bothered ringing the others to let them know he wouldn’t be in. He just climbed into his car and drove and drove and drove and eventually wound up in a little park in Dumfries. He didn’t know if it was weird or not that he’d sat to watch the children play, going about their happy little care-free lives, laughing and smiling and oblivious. The littlest ones were the funniest. They didn’t care about any form of self-consciousness, just wandering up to one another, asking if they wanted to play and then simply getting on with being together and having fun. Simple.
Everything was so complicated in Ianto's life, he’d just needed to see the evidence of that simplicity somewhere. That for other people - the people he was trying to protect - things were easier and less complicated. He wondered to himself how many of the mothers and fathers sat chatting on the benches lining the play park had met because their son or daughter had walked up to the other one and said, “Are you on your own? Wanna play?”
Friends made through simply not judging.
Ianto hated being judged.
Bob didn’t judge him. Bob was his best friend. How pathetic was that?
Tired, but not exhausted, Ianto took off his shirt and trousers and boxers and got changed into his pyjama bottoms and t-shirt. He flicked on the telly - not one of those flat screen things, a big, proper box telly. It needed to warm up and everything. Ianto wondered how long it would be before his box telly would be considered ‘retro’ and possibly come back into fashion.
The set hummed at him as it warmed, the picture flickering into life. He sighed to himself as the blonde woman with the incredibly happy smile stood by a nine-by-nine square of letters, urging people to ring up and tell her what word was hidden within it and win a thousand pounds. Ianto considered ringing up for a lark, snorting into his glass of milk when the man who had phoned up guessed the painfully obvious answer wrong. He was just reaching for his landline when there was a knock at the door.
If it was Jack, he was going to shoot him. He had practiced on Owen, after all.
He pulled the door open, and sure enough Captain Harkness was there, coat slung over his arm and looking guilty. “Sorry,” he said. “were you in bed?”
“Not quite.” Ianto folded his arms. “I never told you where I lived.”
“I know where you all live.” Jack replied. “At least I knocked rather than just using the key.” He tried to sound jovial.
“Key?” Ianto raised an eyebrow.
Jack shuffled uncomfortably. “Emergencies only.” he muttered. “Anyway, we need to talk, I think.”
“Now?” Ianto asked, disbelieving.
“No time like the present.”
“There was a time like two hours ago, when I could be bothered with you and you brushed me off.”
“I’ve had a think.” admitted Jack.
“Me too.” scowled Ianto.
“And?” Jack prompted hopefully.
“And I think we should just forget about it.”
“Forget I left?” Jack asked, incredulous.
Ianto rolled his eyes. “No. About it. Us. Whatever it was we had finished when you left. If you’d have at least phoned or texted or ... I dunno. Left a post it note ... then maybe I’d consider it differently.”
“You ... you want to end it?”
“It was already over, Jack.”
“Oh ...” he breathed. “I don’t ... I don’t want it to end ...”
“You should have thought that - no, scrap that - you should have thought of me before you went running off to wherever it is you went.”
Ianto glared at him, and he kept his eyes on the coat slung over his arm, picking some lint from the top.
“Where did you go?” Ianto asked quietly.
Jack raised his eyes, biting his lip and saying nothing.
Ianto sighed in exasperation, and shut the door in his face.
The telly went off, the remote went back in its place next to the DVD controller and the empty glass Ianto had had milk in was washed out, dried and put back in its cupboard. Upside down, never the right way up. There was a time when Ianto wasn’t home enough for his cups not to get dust in them, and leaving them upside down became a habit. They were easier to store too, he’d found. He could put them in little pyramids of three glasses, and that looked better and felt neater than just putting them in wherever they fitted.
He hesitated, hearing a thump behind the front door, and frowned to himself. He crossed to the window and squinted out at the car park, searching out the silhouette of the SUV trying to hide behind a Transit van. Ianto crossed to the door, pulled it open and jumped back as Jack, who had been sat leaning on it, tumbled backwards onto his feet.
“Normally, when someone shuts a door in your face, you’re supposed to leave.” he scowled. Jack remained on the floor, shuffling a little so that he was back in the corridor and leaning against the wall, knees drawn up.
“Yeah ... I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
Ianto shrugged.
“Okay.”
He let the door swing shut again, noisily slid the chain on and clattered the bolt home.
Ianto switched off the living room light, crawled into bed, pulled the light-pull above his head and snuggled down to sleep.
~*~*~*~
The alarm went off far too soon, and Ianto groaned and rubbed his eyes, sitting up and pulling the switch for the light. He yawned widely, his eyes still itching with tiredness and thoughts of bacon sandwiches and glasses of cold orange juice dragged him out of bed. He washed and shaved first, examining the stitches on his collarbone from where shrapnel had sliced his skin the week before. It looked like it was healing well, and they were due to come out soon.
Opening his wardrobe, he picked out a pinstripe suit and white shirt, choosing a black leather belt with a silver buckle. He procrastinated over which tie to wear, before eventually settling on a red one two-toned with gold. Two minutes later he took it off, remembering why he’d bought it. Jack was supposed to be taking him to a Red and Gold party (for work purposes) and he’d seen that tie and thought it was perfect. He now swapped it for a purple tie, then changed his mind again going for a black one. Eventually he decided that it was all in his head, Jack wouldn’t know why he’d bought the tie and he liked it anyway. He put his red and gold one back on, turning in the mirror slightly to watch it change in the light.
Right. Washed, shaved, dressed: time for bacon. With a rumbling stomach he drew back his bedroom curtains, then did a fast double take. The SUV was still parked by the Transit van, unmoved from the night before. Frowning to himself, he crept to the front door and crouched behind it, listening carefully. What was he expecting to hear? he wondered, rolling his eyes to no one but himself and sliding the chain off and the bolt back, opening the door and looking down at the floor.
“Morning!” grinned Jack, coat thrown over him, back against the wall and knees drawn up.
Ianto simply shut the door again, pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, and decided to ignore him. He went to the fridge, pulled out his fresh pack of bacon and reached for his frying pan. In the end, his caring nature won through and he made a sandwich for Jack as well. He poured two glasses of orange juice, then went back to the door, suddenly unsure if Jack would be there.
Of course he was, his mental self scowled as Jack grinned up at him again.
“Do I smell bacon?” he asked hopefully.
“Get in.” sighed Ianto, standing aside while Jack struggled to force his probably now very stiff legs into a standing position, his knees popping as they fought gravity to get their owner upright. “BOOTS!” Ianto practically yelled, and Jack jumped sky-high.
“Wh-what about them?” he asked, looking down at them and checking.
“Take them off! The carpet is ruined enough without grubby boots walking all over them.” Jack didn’t move. “Off! Now!”
Jack sprung into action, his stomach grumbling as he tugged off the boots and hung up his coat on an empty peg. A blue coat should have gone at the other end of the rail, but Ianto decided to let it go this one time. Just one.
Following him into the kitchen area, Jack commented on what a lovely flat he had, and how neat and tidy it was. He seemed quite enthusiastic about the television, and Ianto decided that maybe it was time to get a flat screen if Jack thought it was cool.
The Captain wolfed down his bacon sandwich gratefully and downed the orange in one, but politely waited until Ianto offered him more rather than asking.
“Heyyy!” Jack noticed. “You’ve got a fish!”
“Yeah. Owen gave him to me. He said that after you’d left the best thing for me was a companion of similar intelligence you.”
“You do know it’s an urban myth they only have three second memories, right?” Jack asked, as if Ianto hadn’t spoken. “They can actually remember quite a way - they even recognise people.”
“I watched that episode of QI too, Jack.” sighed Ianto. “Are you done? Can we go?”
“Aren’t we going to talk first?”
“No.” replied Ianto bluntly, taking the plates and glasses and putting them in the sink. He glanced at the clock, knowing that in order to wash up properly he’d have to make himself late - but he couldn’t stand the thought of dirty things in the sink all day. He’d be distracted. Maybe if he walked at twice the speed, or listened to music to make him walk to a quicker beat he would be able to make up time ...
“I’ll give you a lift in the SUV if you want to wash up.” Jack offered, knowing what Ianto was thinking.
Ianto glanced at him over his shoulder, then nodded silently. He turned on the hot tap, rinsing everything off before filling up the sink with the soapy water. Ianto needed to wash things three times - sometimes more - and Jack knew that. He’d only commented on it once, when he’d watched Ianto washing mugs in the hub, rinsing them, washing them in the bowl, drying them and repeating again and again. He’d asked why he did it, making Ianto jump, not knowing he’d been watched. Ianto lied, saying it was because he’d spotted bits he’d missed after he’d dried them. Jack just frowned, then smiled, then said ‘Okay’ and left him to it. Ianto hadn’t been self-conscious about doing it in front of Jack since then, feeling like he might understand a little. Until now.
He promised himself he’d only wash them once - he knew full well that once was enough - but as he went to tip out the water from the sink he felt that itch and that urge and he had to make sure.
Screw what Jack might think or understand.
He reached for the frying pan again, drying it and dunking it back in the water to soak. He dried the glasses and the plates, set them on the side and started using the sponge on the pan again. Eyes were still boring into the back of him, and Ianto sensed Jack’s boot-less feet padding towards him. From the corner of his eye he saw Jack pick up the towel and start drying the frying pan he’d just put on the draining board. Without a word he set it next to the sink ready to be washed again, moving to dry the glasses and plates as Ianto finished with them.
They kept the cycle going until Ianto felt comfortable that everything was in order, then put his crockery away before pulling on his jacket and going to fetch shoes from the wardrobe. He slipped them on just behind the door while Jack laced up his boots, and Ianto reached for his special coat again, thinking about the boost it gave him.
“Love the coat, by the way.” Jack commented as they walked together across the car park.
“Gwen and Toshiko bought it for my birthday.” he told him.
“Gwen and Toshiko? Must have been expensive. A little nice to be wearing on a day-to-day basis ...”
“I don’t find the cost important. The fact they thought about me long enough to get together, decide what to get me and split the price is enough for me. And I don’t wear it day-to-day. I wear it when I feel like shit so that it makes me feel better.”
Jack tried to hold his tongue, but couldn’t help it. “You look gorgeous in it.”
“Don’t.” Ianto didn’t want to sound like he was pleading.
“You do though.” Jack muttered, mainly to himself. He unlocked the SUV and they both climbed inside, pulling the doors shut and their seatbelts on. Jack fired the ignition, revving the engine a bit while Ianto rolled his eyes.
“Show off.” he chastised.
Jack shrugged and pulled out of the parking space, ignoring a group of school kids gawping at the car. Well, pretending to ignore them. He loved it when people stared at the SUV.
It occurred to Ianto that clearly, Jack had known that he’d forgotten his car yesterday. He resisted the urge to bang his head on the window, wondering what Jack must think of his petulant stubbornness, before reminding himself he no longer cared what Jack thought. Caring what Jack thought ended when Jack left (supposedly).
“Erm ... Jack?” Ianto frowned. “Work’s that way ...” he pointed.
“There was an accident last night and there might still be debris on the road. S’why it took me so long to get to yours.”
“Oh. Okay. I didn’t see anything.”
“I can u-turn and go that way if you want. We’ll be late, but -”
“I said ‘okay’.” Ianto snapped.
“Calm down.” Jack tried with a laugh.
Ianto gave him a death glare and his smile faded. He concentrated on the road in front of him, shifting in his seat a little when they paused at a pelican crossing.
“Shit.” Ianto suddenly gasped, ducking down low.
“What?”
“That’s my sister with my niece and nephew.” he hissed, raising his head slightly to check if they’d seen him before lowering it again sharply.
“Which ones? Ahhhh yeah I think I can guess which one’s your sister. She’s got her back to us now.”
Ianto checked, then sat up properly and tried to straighten out his coat.
“She thinks I’m a civil servant.” he explained.
“And?”
“Well ... I’m not am I. I’m in the Torchwood vehicle.”
“Maybe you were just getting a lift.” shrugged the Captain.
“We’re facing the wrong direction for where she thinks I work.” Ianto pointed out.
“Maybe you’re with me. Maybe it’s ‘Take Your Welshman To Work Day’.”
Ianto smiled a little, then nearly jumped a mile when someone knocked on his window. Steeling himself, he wound the window down and tried to smile warmly.
“Rhiannon!” he grinned.
“Alright. Spotted you and thought we’d say ‘hi’, didn’t we kids?”
They chorused a ‘yeahhhh’, and little Mica waved at him.
“Um ... hi?” he offered.
“What you doin’ this side of town then?” she asked, then seemed to notice Jack. “... and who’s this?”
“Cap’n Ja-”
“My neighbour. My starter motor’s gone so he’s giving me a lift.”
“Lucky you.” she muttered under her breath.
“Don’t.” Ianto rolled his eyes. “First day back at school, kids?” he asked the children, changing the subject. David groaned and nodded, while Mica remained enthusiastic.
“I’m in Year One now.” she said importantly.
“You’re growing up really fast.” he smiled.
“I don’t wanna grow up! I’ll get boring and old like you!” she cheekily grinned.
“Not as old as your mammy.” Ianto scowled.
Mica frowned in confusion. “Mam’s only eighteen.”
“Is she now?” Ianto asked with mock incredulity. “I think someone might be telling white lies.”
“Let me have my fun!” grinned Rhiannon. “Anyway, we’re all going to be late, and you’re causing a queue.”
“Ahhh well. Okay, buh bye, Rhi. See ya Mica, David.”
They chorused a ‘byeee’ as people began hitting their horns, and Jack pulled away from the pavement smoothly, letting the traffic flow again, the lights of the pelican long ago changed.
“Your sister seems nice.” Jack commented after a moment or so of silence.
“She is. Don’t ever, ever talk to her.”
“Just saying.” Jack murmured. “And you could at least be civil.”
“Everything considered, I am being civil.”
“Civil isn’t constantly snapping.”
“‘Civility is relative to the misdeed.’” Ianto quoted.
“I was always going to come back.”
“You weren’t.”
“I was.”
“If you’d planned on coming back, you’d have left something telling us you were coming back so that we wouldn’t be quite so pissed off.”
“I didn’t intend to be gone so long!” argued Jack. “I thought ... a week at the most. But ... time travel isn’t that simple. We were a little off the mark, and after everything the TARDIS went through, I’m amazed she got the right year, never mind decade. So at least be grateful I turned up in the righ -”
“Grateful? Did you just say I should be grateful you came back? Grateful, because we couldn’t possibly function without you, Jack? Grateful that you messed everything up again? Grateful that you messed me up again?”
“Ianto, I didn -”
“You’re right. I should be grateful. Because at least in you coming back I really, really know where I stand.”
“And where do you stand?” Jack asked quietly.
“A respectful step behind, ready to clean up after you, sir.”
“That ... you ... we could at least try. One date? Just one.”
“No.”
“Well ... we’ll rent a DVD. Watch it at your place? I liked your place.”
“No.”
“A walk?”
“No.”
“A talk?”
“No.”
“A kiss?”
Ianto closed his eyes, biting his lip, then blinked as he realised where they were. Jack was parking the SUV in its spot in the garage, getting ready to climb out. Ianto unclipped his seatbelt and followed.
“Ianto?”
“What?”
“You didn’t answer me.”
“Answer you for what?”
“I asked if we could kiss. Just once.”
He stepped closer, and Ianto tried to step back but the SUV was in the way. Jack hadn’t stood this close to him for over three months, and the pheromones were already intoxicating his system. Ianto knew Jack was doing it on purpose, getting close to him, affecting him. That was his tactic when he wanted something. Just don’t look him in the eye, Ianto's head screamed, but he raised his head anyway and found himself trapped in that gaze.
He knew he could get away if only he could look away, but their blue eyes were locked, magnetised closer, lips trembling and Ianto knew he was lost already. Jack’s hands were leaning on the SUV either side of him, holding him there, his body so close Ianto could feel the heat of him through his own layers of clothes.
“You’re only lost if you think you are, Ianto ...” a voice in his head whispered. It distracted him, and he blinked and huddled into his coat.
“If you’ve got handprints on the windows, I’ll kill you.” he snapped, pushed past Jack and strode quickly into the hub. Jack shoved his hands into his pockets as he watched Ianto leave, smiling to himself.
“Thanks!” he called, and Ianto hesitated.
“What for?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Well, if you’d have kissed me and walked away, I’d have believed you truly wanted this to be over.”
Ianto opened and closed his mouth, but was unable to think of anything to say. Eventually, he decided to repeat himself. “It already is over.”
He turned on his heel and slammed the doors shut behind him, deciding the team could forego their morning coffee and blame it on Jack, heading for the Archives and thinking about finally setting about re-filing the complete bomb site that was Mission Records 1941-43. He walked briskly to the room he needed, hesitated inside the door and glanced up at the CCTV camera in the corner. The little red light blinked innocently, and Ianto practically glared at it before reaching into his jacket and pulling out his little pen device to switch it off.
Satisfied he was alone and unwatched, he turned on his Archiving Auto Pilot and set to work, hardly registering the time passing by until there was a knock on the door. He bit back his annoyance before clocking it was Toshiko, not Jack, and gave her a welcoming smile.
“Alright, Tosh?” he asked.
“Fine, Ianto. I ... bought you some coffee. We couldn’t get the machine to work and Jack said you were really busy so ...”
“Come in, come in.” he gestured. “Thanks.” He took the cup of coffee from her, trying a sip and desperately ignoring the burnt beans hidden and masked behind a veil of hazelnut syrup and sugar. “Mmmm.” he smiled as she sat down.
“So ... how are you?” she asked awkwardly.
His smile faded and he sighed. “I’m coping.”
“But ... how are you, though?”
He sighed again, heavier. “I’m all ... confused again. He’s ... coming on to me again. He wants to pick up from where we left off, or start again, or just something ... and I’m not so sure I want to.”
“Mmm. Did you talk about ... y’know ... anything?”
“He won’t even tell me where he was, Tosh.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah.”
“I’d have thought he’d at least tell you ...”
“He hardly told me anything before,” Ianto muttered. “I suppose I only thought he would now because we were directly affected. He left us! And you know what he told me this morning? I should be grateful he came back!”
“Aren’t you?”
“No, not really.” Tosh gave him a pointed look. “Okay ... a little. I’m grateful as a member of the team that we’ve got our proper leader back. But ... as a ...friend? Whatever it was I was supposed to be to him ... I’m not. I wish he’d just stayed away. Things would have been so much simpler if he’d just stayed away.”
“It’s more fun when he’s around though.” Tosh quoted his words back to him, with a slight smile.
“Yeah.” Ianto conceded quietly. “But that was yesterday, still in shock that he’d just come back out of nowhere. Now that he’s back, and now that I’ve thought about it ... I just want our relationship to be professional. I don’t want to get tangled up in an affair again.”
“You mean you don’t want to get hurt again.” Tosh observed, sipping her own coffee and watching him over the brim.
“That too.” Ianto sighed.
“You won’t give him a chance?”
Ianto raised an eyebrow. “Does he deserve another chance?”
“He gave you another chance.” Tosh pointed out, refusing to acknowledge Ianto's flinch.
“That was ... different. I was ... that was ...”
“You don’t need to explain anything to me.” Toshiko said. “I forgave you the moment I learnt who she was. All I’m saying is you made a mistake, and he made a mistake. Equal pegging?”
“What about the ‘just a mistake’ he made in nineteen-forty-one?” he challenged. “Wasn’t that his first chance, really?”
“You know what he’s like when it comes to boundaries ... and ... there was that one chance and he took it.”
“He didn’t even mention me while you were there. You said so yourself.”
Toshiko bit her lip. “You didn’t see them together, Ianto.”
“No, I didn’t. And he won’t talk to me about it either.”
Toshiko sipped her coffee silently while Ianto stared into his cardboard cup, lost in thought.
“He came round to my flat last night.” he told her quietly. “I shut the door in his face, and he sat out in the corridor all night, refusing to move.”
“He’s trying.” shrugged Toshiko. “Ianto, I think ... the way he hints ... I think he had to go. I think it was his only chance to find out what happened to him.”
“Not. Even. A. Text.”
“Fair point.” Toshiko sighed, making herself ready to get up. “I suppose if I was in your position, I’d be too scared to get involved again, too.”
“I’m not scared.” scowled Ianto. “I just have standards.”
“Insanely high standards, it seems.”
“Excuse me for asking for fidelity, and maybe a quick note when my partner disappears for three months.”
“You’re right, you’re right. Though I do doubt he’d hurt you again after this.”
“He probably would.”
“He probably wouldn’t.”
“But what if he does?”
“But what if he doesn’t?”
“I suppose we’ll never find out.” he said, folding his arms and watching her walk to the door.
“No, I suppose we won’t.” she told him sadly. “Pity, really. You two would be so great together. Anyone can tell - it’s a shame you’re in denial.”
She shut the door behind her so that she wouldn’t see Ianto's scowl, and began to try and find her way back up to the main hub. Ianto took a few minutes break to finish his coffee, then set back to work on organising the endless stacks of paper that had just been dumped in the room. He found himself sniffling a little, the backs of his eyes suddenly being attacked by thousands of little daggers as tears tried to fight their way forth. Tiny splashes of water smudged the copperplate handwriting of the reports in front of him, and he had to cover his face with his hands as he got it all out of his system, not fighting back and just letting it go.
Recovered, and feeling better, he carried on as if he hadn’t just broken down, taking a mental note to bring down some more filing cabinets to this room and move the contents of the few currently here into the ‘To Be Organised’ piles. He worked away with Auto Pilot turned on, not really concentrating on what he was doing and taking comfort from the ordering and organising and making sense of everything that filing seemed to bring. He wondered if it was odd that he enjoyed filing, but it was his catharsis and that’s all that really concerned him.
He checked his watch when about half the room was done, and was nearly shocked to see it was three ‘o’ clock. The team won’t have eaten! he silently fumed, switching the CCTV camera back on and locking up the room. He met Gwen wandering around one of the higher floors, and she looked so relieved to see him she nearly hugged him.
“I thought I was going to be lost forever!” she almost wailed.
“It’s two lefts back to the main hub.” Ianto told her with a grin, and her face fell.
“Oh ... oh ... right. Panic over nothing!” she grinned, linking his arm. “C’mon, we’re a-wasting away up here.”
“I knew you wouldn’t have eaten.” he sighed. “Can’t you do anything for yourselves?”
“We would have ordered something, but then you’d have been arsey at us for doing your job.” she winked. “Besides, you’re the only one who can get them to deliver the right order. They always mess it up if one of us does it.”
Ianto smiled smugly to himself. The people who worked in all the take-aways knew that they had to get any Torchwood order wrong that wasn’t placed by himself. It took a little flirting and the occasional bribe of good coffee, but it secured him as Official Provider of Food. Another reason why they all had to be nice to him these days.
They emerged into the main hub, and Ianto dialled for pizza, ordered the usual and started gathering money together. He could feel Jack’s eyes on him, and fell into his old habit of teasing him a little, bending a little lower than necessary or reaching further than he’d need to so that his sleeve would pull back and the bare skin of his wrist would be revealed. After his jacket came off, that’s where Jack always went first. Out with the cufflinks, push the sleeves up a little way ... tongue and teeth and lips on his pulse point ...
Ianto decided he’d done it out of spite, not because he wanted to tease Jack in the good way of old. Jack was making his way over, so Ianto quickly slid out through the cog door and up to the Tourist Centre to wait for the pizzas. Jack didn’t follow him, and he relaxed into his chair, logging into his computer to check his emails. There weren’t many - one from Jack, a couple from Gwen about the wedding and one from Owen begging for coffee. He clicked open the one from Jack first, and scanned it. It was a round robin, sent to the entire team and didn’t contain anything of much importance - a couple of changes, a reminder or two - so he deleted it and moved onto the ones from Gwen.
He’d had almost enough of this wedding as Rhys had.
Why had he been roped into organising basically everything again?
The intercom buzzed, and the pizza boy’s voice called “Pizza!” through the speakers. Ianto pressed the button to release the door, and the guy came in.
“Just put them there.” Ianto indicated and smiled. “How much?”
“Thirty-two quid.”
Ianto did a double take, noticing the boy - what was he? Nineteen? - had gone bright red. He’d delivered the pizzas a couple of times, and always seemed to flush a deep crimson if Ianto looked at him. He was staring, though, and Ianto frowned. “What?”
“Nothing.” The boy flushed deeper.
Ianto smiled, and the kid seemed to stare at him for a couple more seconds. Ianto raised an eyebrow.
“Are you gay?” the pizza boy blurted out.
Ianto blinked.
“Sorry ...” he murmured. “... just ... nothing ... ignore me ...”
“Here’s your money. Take the other three quid as tip.” Ianto told him, trying not to sound annoyed or short.
The kid muttered his thanks, still bright red.
“What’s your name?” Ianto asked him.
“Ugh ... Daniel. Please don’t report me ... I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s okay. Go on ...” Ianto shooed him.
He turned and practically bolted out of the door. Ianto took a deep breath.
“Oh ... and Daniel?”
Daniel loitered in the door, looking like a deer in the headlights.
“... I’m bisexual.” Ianto winked.
Daniel grinned a little, then remembered himself and hurried out, shutting the door a little too quick behind him. Ianto gathered up the pizzas, then paused as the intercom buzzed again. He pressed the button for the door release and it swung back to reveal Daniel stood there again, looking a little nauseated.
“Yes?” asked Ianto.
“You never told me your name.”
The way he said made Ianto sure he’d been stood outside battling with himself for two minutes, trying to pluck up the courage to ask.
“I’m Ianto.” he smiled.
“Ianto.” Daniel repeated, feeling the name on his tongue. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor. “Um ... I ... I was wondering ... if you would l-like to go for a drink sometime?”
Ianto regarded him carefully. He wasn’t particularly good looking, but he had a kindness to his demeanour and he was clearly either only just out, or was in the closet.
“We’ve only just met.” Ianto sighed, putting the pizzas down.
“And ... meeting again ... would be ... bad?” Daniel took his cap off and wrung it between his hands.
“Why do you want to meet me again?” Ianto asked, wondering if he was being asked simply because his sexuality meant he might possibly have an interest, Daniel thought him good-looking or he just wanted sex. Looking at him, and his nerves, Ianto guessed he probably hadn’t had much sex, if any.
“You just seem ... likeable. A bit old for me, but ... I dunno. You seem to have respect for people. And a job. And ... well ... you just seem nice.”
“A ‘bit old for you’? I’m twenty-four!” scowled Ianto.
Daniel turned beetroot red. “Sorry. You ... you look ...”
“Old?”
“Older.”
“Older ...” pondered Ianto. “I can live with that. And how old are you, since you know my age?”
“Twenty. Just.”
“... and I look too old for you?” laughed Ianto.
Daniel shuffled again. “Sorry ... I didn’t mean to offend ...”
“It’s alright, Daniel. I’m not offended. I suppose I do look older than I am.”
“Sorry.” Daniel muttered again. “Um ... so ...”
“So when were you planning on taking me for this drink?” Ianto brought the subject back around for him.
His face lit up. “Erm ... well ... I gotta work on most nights, but Tu-Tuesday I’m good.”
“We may have to make it a lunchtime.” Ianto considered. “Tomorrow lunch? About one ‘o’ clock?”
“Yeah I can make that. Definitely. Um ... erm ... where should we ...?”
“Just meet me on the Plass. By the tower. We’ll figure it out from there.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Um ... see you ... tomorrow, then?”
“Yep. See ya.”
Daniel smiled a little before slipping out through the door and shutting it behind him, and Ianto smiled to himself. First rule of moving on: date others. At least he thought that may be the first rule. He wasn’t overly sure.
Picking up the pizzas again, he flipped the sign to ‘Closed’ and made his way down to the hub. He wondered idly if, had Jack not come back, he would have accepted the offer. He had turned down a girl in a bar a few weeks ago, but just before Jack came back he was feeling better and starting to move on. He had, since Jack had left, been celibate. He hadn’t so much as kissed another person’s lips since Jack’s resurrection. Would he be going for a drink with Daniel as a step towards moving on, or a ploy to make Jack jealous? Maybe it was both.
The cog door rolled back and there was something close to cheering when he entered the hub with the pizza. Gwen, Owen and Tosh pretty much jumped him in an attempt to find their favourite toppings. Jack was a little slower, making sure his and Ianto's fingers brushed when he took the box from him, and it then occurred to Ianto that in ‘the usual’ order, his and Jack’s toppings were half-and-halved over one pizza. He’d originally ordered them like that so that he’d have an excuse to sit close to Jack. Now he wished he’d ordered his with Toshiko’s.
They ate in silence, more from ravenous hunger than any other reason, and Ianto was just clearing away the boxes when Jack called him to his office. Ianto glanced over at Toshiko, who was suddenly very absorbed with a matrix of alien symbols covering several of her monitors, before setting down his rubbish bag and making his way over to Jack’s office.
“You wanted to see me?”
“I always want to see you.” Jack smiled, flirtatious glint shining in his eyes. Ianto simply rolled his.
“Is this work related, or can I go?”
“It’s a bit of both.” Jack admitted. “I’m finding it very difficult to concentrate on work with you ... around.”
“I’ve been down in the Archives.” Ianto pointed out. “Well out of your way.”
“That doesn’t mean I can stop thinking about you. I haven’t got any paperwork done. Look.” Jack pointed at his In Tray and Out Tray, showing the drastic difference in the size of each tray’s contents.
“I don’t see any difference to one of your normal days.” Ianto replied stoically. “From what I recall, you never did paperwork anyway.”
“Worth a try.” shrugged Jack, sitting in his chair and clasping his hands on the desk in front of him.
“Is ... that it?” Ianto asked, itching to leave.
“Nope.” grinned Jack. “I really think you should kiss me, Ianto.” he finished seriously. Ianto sighed.
“Stand up.” he ordered.
Jack stood. Ianto crossed to him, pressed their lips together then pulled back again. While Jack was still surprised, he turned on his heel and forced himself to walk away, head held high and gait confident, back to the Archives.
Operation Ianto Is Moving On had officially begun.
~*~*~*~
Ianto had chosen purple shirt, plain black three-piece suit and black, sheer tie. He took a little aftershave to work with him in case he ended up doing anything active, as well as his little tub of hair wax. For the third day in a row he wore the coat Gwen and Toshiko had given him, though this time to impress rather than his own self-confidence.
“You’ve made up with Jack, then?” Toshiko smiled when she entered the Tourist Office. Ianto frowned in confusion.
“Erm ... no?”
“Oh ...” her face fell. “Why are you all ... glowy?” she asked.
“Glowy?” he repeated.
“Yeah. Like ... oh Lord - have you met someone?”
“Kinda. I have a sort of date later. Not a particularly ... instant chemistry kinda guy ... but he seems nice. Give him a chance at least.” he shrugged.
“Oh ... right.” Toshiko mumbled. “Well ... okay. If you’re happy ... I’ll see you later then!” she tried, attempting to smile brightly.
“See ya.” He pressed the red button for the secret door and she slipped through it.
Half an hour later, Gwen arrived. “Oh ... hello, Ianto! You’re looking really well.”
“Thanks.” he smiled, pressing the button for the door and watching her go.
An hour later, Owen dragged himself through the door and scowled at him. “Have you been taking Pro Plus again?”
“No.”
“Who shagged you?”
“Nobody.”
“... who’s going to shag you? And if you say ‘Jack’ I’m going to shut your bollocks in a vice. Admittedly not as tight a vice as I might’ve used a couple o’ days ago, but I’m sure it’ll smart a bit.”
“His name’s Daniel. And I have no intention of shagging him just yet.”
“Woteva.” Owen sighed. “Lemme through ... need to get a drip for this hangover ...”
Ianto pressed the button and the secret door swung open, then closed behind Owen as he wandered absently down towards the hub. Ianto checked his watch: ten thirty. Jack was going to go mental at Owen. He’d never been this late before. Ianto tapped his fingers idly on the desk in front of him, wondering what to do to burn time.
He was secretly getting excited about the drink with Daniel, even though he didn’t even know him, and started to think about how it might go. He was already short listing a couple of places in his head where they couldn’t go, but he felt he should probably leave the decision to Daniel. He could probably just about cope going somewhere Jack had taken him, but those places were so few the chances of Daniel picking one were quite slim.
Ianto managed not to jump when the secret door hissed open and Jack came through, carrying a chair.
“Thought I might keep you company.” he said quietly, setting down the chair and sitting in it slowly, waiting for Ianto to tell him to leave.
Ianto found things to do on his computer, updating databases and re-typing Owen’s hand-scribbled reports. Jack sat beside him silently, occasionally pointing out an error or suggesting a better wording for Owen’s work. He didn’t try and get close to Ianto, or to invade him any way other than being there. He made no suggestive comments or innuendos, and he didn’t touch unless it was at least masked to look accidental.
At about twelve, the air conditioning broke, pumping hot air into the room and practically suffocating them. Ianto had only removed his jacket, but Jack had his dress shirt off, braces slung low by his hips and his t-shirt practically sticking to his frame as he stood on the chair, trying to turn the unit off. Finally it ground to a halt, and Ianto offered him a tissue to mop his brow.
“Can’t we leave the door open?” asked Jack, fanning himself with a file.
“If we leave it open longer than a few minutes, an alarm goes off.” sighed Ianto, trying to use his sweaty fingers to prise the dead batteries out of his hand-held fan and replace them with new ones. Eventually he had to use a pen to lever them out, popping in the new ones and making an almost orgasmic sound when the cold air breezed over his face.
Jack gave a small laugh. “I can make you make noises like that.” he whispered seductively.
“You could make me make noises like that.” Ianto corrected. “Past tense, Jack.”
“I still could, if you’d let me ...”
For the first time since the SUV, Jack moved entirely into Ianto's space, bypassing his lips and going to kiss his neck. Ianto groaned as hot tongue left a trail of cool saliva on his heated skin, coupled with the cold air moving over his face and jaw. “Stop, Jack ...” he whispered, though he made no effort to push him away, raising his chin and giving him better access.
His body was reacting, craving the intimacy, and it felt so good to have Jack so close and doing that thing with his teeth and tongue ...
“Don’t mark me!” Ianto suddenly gasped, pushing him back and reaching for a mirror in his drawer.
“Sorry ... got ... carried away ...”
“I’ll say! Oh no ... teeth marks ...” groaned Ianto, seeing the little indentations just behind his ear. “I don’t think it’ll bruise though ...”
“What’s wron - is there someone else?” Jack suddenly became very stiff.
Ianto closed his eyes and sighed. “His name’s Daniel. And ... I don’t really know him ... I only just met him ... but ... he’s nice. It’s nothing special. He’s just taking me for a drink.”
“Then you shouldn’t worry about me marking you.”
“I’m not sure what he wants.”
“So ... you’re going out with him and just going to give him what he wants?”
“It’s what you expected of me.” Ianto challenged.
Jack took a deep breath. “Fine.” he said eventually. “Fine. Just ... you have a good time. When’s he ... taking you out?”
“Later.”
“And if all he wants is sex?”
“I’m not adverse to the idea of a casual relationship.” shrugged Ianto. “In fact I’d almost welcome the idea. I seem to remember my last attempt at a proper relationship ended in abandonment.”
“Ianto ... you ... when did you meet him?”
“Last night.”
“After you ... kissed me ...?”
“Before.”
“I see. Well, good luck then.”
“... is that it?”
“Yeah.”
Ianto shrugged. “Okay. Well ... I’m gonna go and ... grab my lunch. You lot can fend for yourselves.”
~*~*~*~
They settled on getting some lunch instead of just a drink, and Daniel took him to a little pub that played only rock music and served some of the best chips Ianto had ever eaten in his entire life. He’d have to come back here again, maybe with Toshiko. Ianto hadn’t told Jack he was seeing Daniel for lunch, and didn’t even feel guilty about it.
They picked a booth and sat down, ordered two pints and sat and with a bowl of chips and a burger each.
“So ... Daniel ... you seem ... closeted.” Ianto tried gently.
Daniel turned red. “I ... my dad’s a bit ... militant.”
Ianto frowned and nodded.
“He’d probably chuck me out. He’s old fashioned like that.”
“And your mam?”
“She knows. I think she’s always known ... but ... with my dad ... y’know ... What about your parents?”
“Both dead.” shrugged Ianto. “And my sister has no idea. Hopefully.”
“Hopefully?” Daniel frowned.
“She’s all I’ve got left, but ... I don’t know how she’ll react. I hardly know her anymore, so can’t really ... gauge. For the right guy I’d risk it though.”
“Yeah. I see.” Daniel munched on a chip. “So ... when did you realise you were bi?”
“Just over a year ago. Look, are we gonna talk about sexuality all day? I’m sure there’s plenty of other things to talk about.” Ianto tried to move the subject on.
“Sure, sure ...” conceded Daniel. “Erm ... I dunno if ... cuz like ... I really like you, Ianto.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow. “We’ve only just met.”
“Yeah but ... I dunno what it is.”
Ianto sighed. “Let’s get this out in the open: what do you want from me?”
Daniel blinked.
“Why did you ask me out? What were you thinking? A relationship? A casual relationship? A quick shag?”
Daniel had turned red again, and Ianto couldn’t help but think it was sweet.
“I ... I just liked you so ... went for it. I’ve never plucked up the courage to ask before ... and I ... just ... I’ve never had a proper boyfriend or anything ...”
“You’re desperate to lose your virginity?” Ianto asked bluntly.
Daniel flamed again.
“You’re gonna do yourself an injury if you keep flushing like that.” smiled Ianto. “It’s okay, Daniel. Just relax a bit, okay?”
Daniel swallowed. “Am I that obvious?” He put his head in his hands and sighed. “I decided to do the whole ‘waiting for the right guy’ thing ... but ... I’m going out of my mind!” he gave a weak laugh, and Ianto returned it. “I saw you ... and ... you look ... and .... I dunno. You seemed like what my type might be. Though ... a little more sexually confident than a lot of people I’ve met ...”
“I’ve learnt to simply put cards on the table and see whether or not someone will pick them up. It makes everything so much easier than the whole ... dancing around the subject. At the end of the day, everything boils down to having sex, so talking about it makes the actual ‘having’ part a lot easier.” He winked and sipped his lager.
“So ... would ... would you ... y’know ...” Daniel became very interested in his beer mat as he spoke.
Ianto rolled his eyes. “Would you like to get to know me better here or in my flat?”
“That simple?” blinked Daniel. “I could be anyone.”
“Isn’t that mostly the point?”
Daniel bit his lip. “Okay. But ...”
“Anything you don’t want to do, just say so. Control is yours. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of you.”
“Won’t you be late for work?”
“I have the afternoon off.” he lied.
~*~*~*~
Continued Here ....
damaged_silver index/masterlist