Different Sort of Science -- Marking Time
Title: Different Sort of Science
Chapter Twenty-Two: Marking Time
Date Written: 10/10/08
Rating: Hard R/NC-17
Word Count: 4,620
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Characters/Pairings: *deep breath* Ianto/Jack, Doctor, Roger Curbishley (DW), Arnold Golightly (DW), Jabe (DW), Mickey (DW), Ricky (DW), Wilfred Mott (DW), Sally Sparrow (DW), Rose, Tommy Brockless (TW), Ross Jenkins (DW), assorted OCs, mentioned Ianto/Lisa, Sylvia Noble (DW), Master/Rose, Gray (TW)
Spoilers: Doctor Who up through Season 04, Torchwood up through 02
Warnings: AU like whoa, character death, boys doing more than kissing
Author's Notes: Thanks so much to my gorgeous betas totally4ryo and katestamps, and thank you everyone for being so patient! Since I was forced to take a bit of a break, I bring you an extra-long chapter today!
Previous chapters found here.
Book cover by cjharknessgirl
"I'm going to kill him!"
"What say I use the perception filter to walk up behind him and break his neck?"
"Now that sounds like Torchwood."
"Still a good plan."
-- Martha Jones, Captain Jack Harkness, and the Doctor, The Sound of Drums
Ianto couldn't sleep.
At first he'd thought it was because of everything that had happened -- Lisa was dead, he was in a different place. After a while, however, he had to force himself to come clean. He'd fallen asleep easily in other places before, and the surreal part of his brain hadn't caught up with the fact that Lisa was actually gone now, he'd been without her for so long.
What really was wrong was that he missed Jack.
He and Jack had shared a bed since they'd come back from Capitol. Nothing sexual, just a bit of comfort during the night. Jack kept Ianto's nightmares at bay, and Ianto could do the same. Sometimes when neither of them could drift off, Jack would tell him stories about his childhood and some of the things he'd seen growing up in Torchwood House.
When Ianto would have a nightmare, Jack would wake him up and wipe away his tears and gentle him back to sleep. Ianto would wake Jack up sometimes as well, rocking the Time Lord back and forth and chasing away the remaining tendrils of bad dreams. Sometimes the press of his lips against Jack's was enough to make the other man calm down and slip back into deeper sleep.
He'd fully expected to have the same sleeping arrangements they'd had at Torchwood House, but Jack's door had been firmly locked when Ianto had tried to sneak in when he'd been preparing to go to bed. Maybe Jack felt it was disrespectful to their host.
Ianto curled around the pillow a little tighter, closing his eyes and imaging that he could hear Jack's faint heartbeat instead of just the dull echo of his memory.
-----
"So," the Doctor drawled. "Let me see if I get this straight: You lot want to rebel against the King." He sat back in his chair and propped his feet up on the conference table, crossed at the ankle. "And that's all well and good, Harold's gone round the bend. But what's going to happen after all the bloodshed and fighting in the chance that you win? You're all going to start squabbling amongst yourselves, the war will never end."
Ianto looked about the table at the conspirators present, testing himself to see if he could put names to faces. The Doctor was on his right, with Jack on the Doctor's other side. Next to Jack the twins flanked their mother, an elegant, elderly, determined woman who sat ramrod straight in her chair. When Mickey and Ricky had introduced him, she'd immediately wrapped her arms around him as if they were family. Lisa's father had chosen to stay out of the meeting to be the public face of her family's grief.
Next to Lisa's family was Lord Curbishley and his brother, Arnold. Arnold was a priest in service to the God Rassilon, and had apparently officiated over both Lisa's wedding and her funeral. He was soft-spoken, but his words carried a certain type of weight behind them. He'd chosen his calling well.
King Wilfred sat next to Arnold, an aging old man from a border kingdom. At first he'd seemed more like a loss than an asset, but he'd proven to have a bright mind and a sharp wit. His daughter, Sylvia, was a bit of a shrew, and Ianto found he didn't much care for her. He was supremely pleased that she hadn't found her way to the conference table.
On Ianto's other side was Sally, a young woman with dark blonde hair who had been sent to represent a few border countries on the other side of the kingdom, a good week and a half ride away. She was a quick, clever, level-headed girl and Ianto had taken a liking to her immediately.
The group was small for now, but allies of those present would probably be informed before the week was out. Ianto privately hoped that it would act like ripples in a pond, those others that Harold had wronged coming forward and throwing their weight behind the fight.
"Of course we would not assume the throne," Arnold finally said. "Queen Rose is a co-regent, she would be reinstated."
"I wasn't aware that she'd been taken out of the line of succession," the Doctor replied. "Her son died, yes -- " All eyes turned onto Ianto, and he ducked his head a little. " -- but he was merely next in line."
"King Harold has said that she's abdicated her position," Lord Curbishley informed him, "and she's gone into seclusion to mourn in peace."
"Well, that solves one problem," the Doctor said. He swung his feet off the table. "The next is how you can justify the deaths of what will be thousands of your own soldiers over the loss of just one person."
Lisa's mother bristled, her back becoming impossibly straighter. "Mr. Smith," she said, her English softly accented, "The King has caused grave injury to my people's family. That alone is enough for our kingdom to go to war with yours."
"I am not trying to belittle the unfortunate death of your daughter, Lady Jabe," the Doctor said, holding his hands up in defense. "What I'm trying to say is that there's another way to handle this. A more peaceful way."
"John," King Wilfred said, smoothing his gnarled fingers against the tabletop. "None of us wanted this to come to pass. They're too young, but I've seen war. I know how horrible it is."
"Then help me try to stop them," the Doctor plead.
"The King understands nothing but violence," Sally finally said. "Any attempts at peaceful negotiation with such men always come to naught."
"There is always another way!" the Time Lord insisted, banging his hands on the table. Everyone jumped at the sudden outburst.
"You didn't see the look on his face, D-octor," Jack said softly, smoothly covering his slip-up. "He was a madman. Rational thought, reasoning, it doesn't register with him."
The Doctor turned to look at Ianto. "So are you on their side too?" he asked.
Ianto had to close his eyes, fighting back the warring sensations he was getting. Revenge, anger, resignation, hopefulness, it all whorled around inside him, making him dizzy. "This will happen whether we assist them or not, sir," he found himself saying. "They've made up their minds."
Next to him, he heard the Doctor's sigh of resignation. They all knew Ianto was only pointing out the obvious.
"However," he continued, eyes still closed, "from what I can understand, it will take time to shore up the numbers for an army, and the winter season is almost upon us."
"The lad's right," King Wilfred said. "War in the cold is hell. It would be better if we waited until the spring thaw."
"That would give you time to try a more diplomatic approach, Doctor," Ianto said.
The Doctor gave Ianto a soft, true smile. Jack gave the young Mage a similar one over his father's shoulder, watching him fondly.
"You're a natural mediator, Mr. Jones," Lord Curbishley complimented. "All right then, it sounds like we have a rough plan."
The others began discussing logistical plans and which ally would be helpful. The Doctor shook his head. "I don't like this," he muttered low enough for only Ianto and Jack to hear.
"Ianto's right, they're going to do this either way," Jack told him, leaning in to keep his voice as low as possible. "We'll have to throw our weight in on one side or the other eventually."
"This is wrong," the older Time Lord insisted. "Torchwood House is supposed to stop these sorts of things."
"Sometimes they're just inevitable, sir," Ianto said softly.
The Doctor fixed him with an unreadable look. "And you'll fight?"
"If it comes to it," the young Mage agreed. "At the very least, Healers will be needed."
Jack's smile was warm, but the Doctor just shook his head. "What do I turn you sweet children into?"
-----
"Ianto!"
Ianto stopped and took a step back, peering into his parent's quarters. "Yes, Tad?"
"Are you done with your lessons for the day?" the elder Jones asked.
"Yes sir."
"Come in, then," the older man beckoned with one hand. "I need some help with this."
Ianto carefully stepped into the room, staring at the overflow of soft, rich fabric draped about the room. "What are you doing, Tad?" he asked with a fond smile.
"I asked your father to make me a new winter wardrobe," came a soft voice from behind the changing screen in the corner.
Ianto's eyes went wide and he gave his father his best glare. "Your Majesty," he managed politely before hissing at his father, "Have you gone mad?"
"Oh hush," he replied in an equally low tone, handing over a bundle of half-sewn clothing. "Your stitching's neater than mine anyway."
"Tad!"
"She specifically asked for you," he said, settling his younger son into his chair and kissing his forehead. "You'll be fine."
"I killed her son," Ianto whispered.
"Just calm down," the older Jones replied, touching his cheek gently. "You'll be fine." He kissed Ianto's forehead before leaving the room.
Ianto felt completely and utterly lost. He'd done his best to avoid Queen Rose since they'd arrived in Torchwood House, never appearing in the same room as her alone -- and never for very long. Frankly, he was terrified of what she could do to him, in her capacity as Queen and as a mother.
He could hear her fidgeting with clothing behind the screen, so he quickly busied himself with the work his father had dumped into his lap. After a few long moments, the Queen stepped out from behind the changing screen.
She was dressed in a very flattering shade of deep green, just dark enough to still be an appropriate mourning color, Ianto noted. The corset fitted nicely around her waist, with a square-cut neckline just low enough for a Queen to get away with. There was the simple-stitch outline of gold embroidery around the neckline and the cuffs of her long sleeves for his family to go back later and complete. Her long blonde hair was half-pinned, the remaining length tumbling down around her shoulders, framing her face. She looked every inch the Queen she was.
Then she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and gave him a tentative, questioning smile and Ianto was reminded so strongly of Jack.
"You look lovely, Your Majesty," he told her, giving her a reassuring, albeit nervous, smile.
"Your father does wonderful work," she replied, smoothing the fabric at her hips.
"He does," Ianto agreed. He set the garment aside and motioned for her to move to the raised platform in the middle of the room. She stepped up easily, raising the hem of the gown so she wouldn't trip, and Ianto knelt down and started pinning the hem up. He'd have her change out of it once he was done, then press and hem it later.
Silence stretched uncomfortably in the room before the Queen broke it. "I don't blame you," she finally blurted out.
Ianto stopped his work, not looking up at her. "You should, ma'am."
"I don't," she repeated. With a fluid motion, she knelt down and lifted his head so she was looking at him. "I'm... Gray, he hadn't been my son for a while," she finally said. "When he was little, he adored me. I guess all little boys adore their Mummies."
Ianto nodded in agreement. "There isn't a little boy alive who wouldn't tear the world apart for his Mam."
"And there isn't a Mum who wouldn't do the same for her little boy," Queen Rose replied, giving him a little bit of a smile. "But Harold, I don't know how, but he managed to take that love and twist it so horribly. I didn't recognize him anymore, that last day." She took a deep breath and shifted, sitting back properly. After a moment, she gave a bitter laugh. "I've lost two little boys. What sort of Mum does that make me?"
Ianto looked down at his hands, unsure for a moment how to handle the question. "I'm sure you did what you thought was best," he said slowly, "what was proper." He took a deep breath. "But Your Majesty still has a son."
"I abandoned him practically the moment he was born," she whispered. "He'll never forgive me."
"Have faith in Jack," Ianto reassured her. "He forgave you a long time ago."
-----
"Jack!" Ianto cried out, swallowing hard as he gasped for air. "Jack, God and Goddess, have some mercy!"
Jack's rich laugh reached Ianto's ears, and Ianto didn't even bother an attempt to suppress the resulting full-body shiver. "And ruin all my fun?"
"I'm shaking all over," Ianto informed the Time Lord, "I cannot feel my fingers and I can't bloody breathe!"
Jack was by his side in an instant, the visor of his metal helmet flipped up. Bright blue eyes tried to find Ianto's through the grill of the young Mage's own helmet. "And yet you still manage to find enough breath to yell at me?" he teased, carefully lifting the head protector off of Ianto.
The cold, crisp air hit Ianto's face like a slap, almost knocking what little breath he had out of him. Ianto had to force himself to breathe again.
Jack's fingers were at his shoulder, undoing the ties to Ianto's metal and leather breastplate. "How was this one? Better than the full suit?"
"Burning hot pokers are better than the suit," Ianto countered, shoving his sword blade first into the cold ground.
The glistening suit of silvery armor had been enticing when he's first seen it, but once it had been painstakingly put on he'd barely been able to move. When he'd managed to be able to propel himself, all he'd been able to hear were his own heavy, clanging footsteps.
It had been maddening.
The breastplate fell away easily, and Ianto flopped theatrically onto the ground. His chain mail shirt chimed softly as the links were pushed together then moved apart as he continued to gasp for air. He stared up at the sky, watching the bands of color thrown up by the setting sun blend together.
"Don't do that," Jack admonished. "Your muscles will seize up when they cool down." He held out a hand, helping Ianto to his feet. "Quartermaster first, then a nice, hot bath."
"That sounds just divine," Ianto agreed.
Tommy, the quartermaster, was friendly as always, but they didn't linger like they normally would, sitting around the little hearth and swapping stories. They stopped briefly at each of their own rooms to gather up fresh clothing before making their way down to the bathhouse.
The bathhouse was a huge affair, just off the side of the House proper, with a long hall connecting the two buildings. There were separate communal baths for both men and women. The tubs were made of marble, shallow on one end and deep enough on the other that Ianto couldn't touch the bottom even on his tiptoes. There were two large dragon statues sitting on either side of the bath, long necks bent downwards to let continuous hot water flood into the bath.
Ianto had made the mistake of asking the Doctor how it worked the first time he saw it and had been treated to an hour-long lecture about pipes and furnaces and water pumps and filters. Donna had later been able to explain it in three sentences: "Water overflows into drains along the edge of the bath. The overflow water goes down underneath the bathhouse and is heated by the furnace. The hot water then gets dumped back into the bath through the dragons."
He learned to ask Donna about anything that day.
Jack had been right; his muscles had frozen up just a bit, so he was considerably slower undressing. Jack had been out of his clothes in moments, walking naked down into the bath. Ianto glared at his backside over the discarded clothing strewn about the floor. He stiffly gathered up their dirty garments and deposited them into a little basket by the door for the laundry maids.
The water was a little too hot at first when it hit his still-chilled skin, but it still felt just lovely. Ianto sank down to sit on the steps, the water up to his shoulders. The completely lewd, utterly orgasmic moan that slipped out of his mouth made him flush a little.
Jack, who had kept his back to Ianto until that moment, turned back and gave him a smile. He was holding a bar of soap, his hands were already full of soap suds, and a few white bubbles clung to his chest. "Feels good?" he asked, raising his arms to run his fingers through his hair.
"Pythia," Ianto replied, swallowing thickly. "It's lovely."
Jack laughed a little bit, scrubbing at his hair to work up a good lather. He tossed the soap over towards Ianto, grinning when he caught it deftly before ducking underneath the water to rinse the suds out. Ianto watched, mesmerized, as Jack slid back up from underneath the water, rivulets dripping from his hair and down his skin. One droplet caught his eye as Jack squeezed the water out of his long hair, the water sliding down over his collarbone and slipping along the edge of one flat brown nipple and down his stomach.
Jack shifted a little, putting his hands on his hips, and Ianto realized -- a little guiltily -- that he'd been caught staring. "Come here," the Time Lord ordered.
Ianto moved through the water, joints still a touch stiff, and was a bit puzzled when Jack had him brace himself up against the wall. He turned his head slightly to ask what was going on when he felt Jack's hands on his back, slick and warm with oil. "You've still got knots in your muscles," Jack informed him, chuckling a little when Ianto all but melted against the wall.
The young Mage closed his eyes and laid his cheek against the cool stone, concentrating on Jack's hands slipping along his back. Jack was clearly an expert at this; he found muscles Ianto didn't know were hurting him until those strong fingers twisted the knots out of them.
Jack's hands, however, weren't the only sensation Ianto was enjoying. He could practically taste the arousal coming off of the Time Lord, Jack's want mixing with his own and making his entire body tingle deliciously. It was intoxicating, alluring, and he welcomed it.
He couldn't fight the slow moan that fell from his mouth as Jack moved his thumbs up along the line of his spine. The water sloshed as Jack leaned in a little closer and his answering chuckle brushed against his ear. "Like that, then?"
"Yes," Ianto breathed softly, eyes closed.
Jack easily dropped a soft kiss on his shoulder and Ianto's breath caught in his chest, his eyes snapping open. Behind him, Jack stiffened a little, his hands freezing mid-rub. "I'm sorry," he said. "I wasn't thinking, it just -- "
Before Jack could finish his sentence, Ianto had spun about and was kissing Jack, his fingers threading through Jack's wet hair. There was a split-second of resistance, Jack surprised by Ianto's sudden movement, but the Time Lord quickly recovered and eagerly kissed him back. Oily hands came up to cup his face as Jack pressed him against the wall, that talented tongue back in his mouth. The Time Lord's body fitted against his so perfectly that Ianto moaned into Jack's mouth, shifting a little and enjoying the slide of wet skin against wet skin. Ianto's arousal slid against Jack's hard shaft and they both moaned.
Jack's mouth moved downwards as he ground his hips against Ianto's, their cocks slipping against each other underneath the water. It felt amazing and terrifying, and Ianto was already, embarrassingly, right there on the edge.
"Jack," he gasped, his head tipping back to give Jack further access to his neck. "Jack, please -- "
Ianto's voice, however, had the opposite intended effect. Jack froze, apparently giving his brain time to catch up and suddenly he was pushing away and sloshing out of the bath. "I'm -- I'm sorry," he stammered, grabbing a towel as he rushed out the door.
Ianto stared after him, at the doorway he'd ran out through for a moment, confused and horny as hell. He looked down at his cock, the moving water making it look distorted. Well, he'd never get anything done with that.
It just took two stokes and he was shuddering his release, the thrill of orgasm definitely subdued. He sighed and slumped against the wall, giving himself a moment to gather himself up, splashed the oil off his face and climbed out as well. He took his time in drying off and dressing, composing what he wanted to say.
The maids were not subtle as they watched him walk down the hall, but he didn't let them bother him. When he reached Jack's room and tried the handle, he discovered it was locked. He almost laughed. Jack honestly thought that a metal lock -- metal, an Earth element -- could keep him out? He put his hand over the lock and the bolt split with ease.
Jack jumped when Ianto wrenched the door open and slammed it behind him. His hair was still wet and unbound and he was clad only in a pair of pants. "Get out."
"Like hell," Ianto replied, putting his hand over the lock and fusing it back together.
"I said, get out!" Jack shouted, moving a little closer to him and pointing.
"No!" Ianto snapped. "I'm sick and tired of this. We're settling this, right here, right now!"
Jack set his jaw stubbornly, but said, "Fine."
"Good." Ianto said, pushing off from the door.
There was a moment of awkward, hesitating silence before Jack prompted him with, "You obviously have something you want to say."
Ianto closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You are a tactile person," he said. From Jack's reaction, this obviously hadn't been what he'd thought the young Mage would say, so Ianto plowed ahead. "With your upbringing, it's not really all that surprising. When you talk to people, you put a hand on their arm. When you teach a new move, you mold yourself to your student to teach them the proper way to move. You hug your friends. So it's natural that anyone you have an affection for, you would display it sexually."
"Hey!" Jack protested. "I do not sleep around, thank you very much."
Ianto put his hands on his hips. "John. Hart."
"Don't start, and that was just a once-off anyway," the Time Lord defended, pointing a finger at Ianto.
"What I'm saying," Ianto said loudly, "is that it's natural for you with everyone else. But me."
Jack sighed and ran a hand over his face. "With you, I'm afraid you don't have a say in what I want."
Ianto's eyes rolled upwards. "Rassilon, send me brains! How many times do we have to go over this?"
"You can't say for certain," Jack defended.
A moment of inspiration hit Ianto. "What do you want?" he asked.
Jack blinked at him, taken aback by the random question. "What?"
"What do you want?" Ianto asked, stepping a little closer. "Deep down, more than anything else?"
"What I've wanted for you from the start! Ianto, I just want you to be happy." The moment the words left Jack's mouth, a thoughtful look crossed his face.
"Now he gets it," Ianto said, throwing his hands up in the air. "Idiot."
"So..." Jack drawled, motioning between the two of them, "I'm not manipulating you?"
"No," Ianto reassured him. "When someone wants me to just be happy, it's the only time I'm honestly, truly free."
"And you -- want me?"
"Yes."
Jack watched him for a moment. "I... I'll need some time," he admitted. "For myself. To make sure."
"Okay," Ianto agreed. "Slow I can do. Just no more of this start-and-stop."
Jack smiled and nodded. "My room tonight?" he asked after a pause.
"Goddess, I got so worn out by all of this," Ianto agreed. "You kicked my arse today."
The Time Lord laughed a little, turning back the corner of the bedclothes. "I went easy on you," he told him. "When spring comes, the other side will not be as forgiving."
Ianto kicked off his shoes and climbed straight into bed. Jack laid down on the top of the sheets, and the young Mage raised an eyebrow. "I'm fully clothed," he pointed out
"I don't quite trust myself," the Time Lord replied.
"You're going to freeze," Ianto pointed out.
"What's it going to do, kill me?" Jack quipped, but he still climbed in under the covers.
Ianto moved next to him, putting an arm around him. He was almost afraid that Jack would disappear on him in the middle of the night.
One long finger moved to tip his head up, and Jack carefully pressed his mouth against Ianto's. "Sleep well."
"I will now," Ianto reassured him.
-----
The snow was just beginning to melt away when Harriet gave birth to her second child, a little girl with a head full of black hair. She quickly became the darling of Torchwood House, the first baby born there in about 10 years.
Harriet and Ross let Ianto name his new niece. Everyone had been surprised when he'd picked the name Estelle -- his Mam's name -- instead of Lisa. They called her Elly and loved her to bits.
Except little Ross. He was not pleased.
"Girls are stupid," he announced to his uncle one night. Elly had been a touch fussy, as new babies are sometimes, and Ianto had volunteered to put Ross down for the night.
Ianto raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Want to tell your Grandmam and Mam that one?" he challenged teasingly.
Ross gave an annoyed sigh. "Uncle Ianto," he admonished, "they're ladies. They're different from girls."
"Oh, my mistake," Ianto replied, looking down at the storybook in his lap. No damsels in distress being rescued tonight, then.
"All she does is cry anyway," the boy continued. "Why did Mam and Tad want a new baby anyway?"
Ianto smiled and closed the book, setting it aside. "Well," he said, moving to stretch out next to him. Ross had insisted that he sleep in Ianto's bed that night, so there was more than enough room. "Sometimes when a Mam and a Tad love each other, they want to have a baby," he started. "Your parents had you, and you turned out just brilliantly, so they wanted to have another one." He tweaked Ross's nose, making him giggle. He grinned down at him. "They love you, kid. You know that, right?"
Ross nodded and curled up a little against his uncle. Ianto put an arm around him, pulling him closer before he dropped a kiss on the top of his head.
"Uncle Ianto?" the little voice was curious, wondering.
Ianto smiled against the dark curly hair. "What?"
"You love Jack, right?" He looked up at his uncle, almost identical blue eyes meeting. "Like how Tad loves Mam?"
Ianto traced his teeth with his tongue. "I don't know," he admitted. "I think so."
"Oh." Ross chewed this bit of information over for a few moments before looking up at Ianto again. "Does that mean you and Jack are going to have a baby?"
Ianto sighed and covered his face with his free hand. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Twenty-Two: Marking Time
Date Written: 10/10/08
Rating: Hard R/NC-17
Word Count: 4,620
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Characters/Pairings: *deep breath* Ianto/Jack, Doctor, Roger Curbishley (DW), Arnold Golightly (DW), Jabe (DW), Mickey (DW), Ricky (DW), Wilfred Mott (DW), Sally Sparrow (DW), Rose, Tommy Brockless (TW), Ross Jenkins (DW), assorted OCs, mentioned Ianto/Lisa, Sylvia Noble (DW), Master/Rose, Gray (TW)
Spoilers: Doctor Who up through Season 04, Torchwood up through 02
Warnings: AU like whoa, character death, boys doing more than kissing
Author's Notes: Thanks so much to my gorgeous betas totally4ryo and katestamps, and thank you everyone for being so patient! Since I was forced to take a bit of a break, I bring you an extra-long chapter today!
Previous chapters found here.
Book cover by cjharknessgirl
"I'm going to kill him!"
"What say I use the perception filter to walk up behind him and break his neck?"
"Now that sounds like Torchwood."
"Still a good plan."
-- Martha Jones, Captain Jack Harkness, and the Doctor, The Sound of Drums
Ianto couldn't sleep.
At first he'd thought it was because of everything that had happened -- Lisa was dead, he was in a different place. After a while, however, he had to force himself to come clean. He'd fallen asleep easily in other places before, and the surreal part of his brain hadn't caught up with the fact that Lisa was actually gone now, he'd been without her for so long.
What really was wrong was that he missed Jack.
He and Jack had shared a bed since they'd come back from Capitol. Nothing sexual, just a bit of comfort during the night. Jack kept Ianto's nightmares at bay, and Ianto could do the same. Sometimes when neither of them could drift off, Jack would tell him stories about his childhood and some of the things he'd seen growing up in Torchwood House.
When Ianto would have a nightmare, Jack would wake him up and wipe away his tears and gentle him back to sleep. Ianto would wake Jack up sometimes as well, rocking the Time Lord back and forth and chasing away the remaining tendrils of bad dreams. Sometimes the press of his lips against Jack's was enough to make the other man calm down and slip back into deeper sleep.
He'd fully expected to have the same sleeping arrangements they'd had at Torchwood House, but Jack's door had been firmly locked when Ianto had tried to sneak in when he'd been preparing to go to bed. Maybe Jack felt it was disrespectful to their host.
Ianto curled around the pillow a little tighter, closing his eyes and imaging that he could hear Jack's faint heartbeat instead of just the dull echo of his memory.
-----
"So," the Doctor drawled. "Let me see if I get this straight: You lot want to rebel against the King." He sat back in his chair and propped his feet up on the conference table, crossed at the ankle. "And that's all well and good, Harold's gone round the bend. But what's going to happen after all the bloodshed and fighting in the chance that you win? You're all going to start squabbling amongst yourselves, the war will never end."
Ianto looked about the table at the conspirators present, testing himself to see if he could put names to faces. The Doctor was on his right, with Jack on the Doctor's other side. Next to Jack the twins flanked their mother, an elegant, elderly, determined woman who sat ramrod straight in her chair. When Mickey and Ricky had introduced him, she'd immediately wrapped her arms around him as if they were family. Lisa's father had chosen to stay out of the meeting to be the public face of her family's grief.
Next to Lisa's family was Lord Curbishley and his brother, Arnold. Arnold was a priest in service to the God Rassilon, and had apparently officiated over both Lisa's wedding and her funeral. He was soft-spoken, but his words carried a certain type of weight behind them. He'd chosen his calling well.
King Wilfred sat next to Arnold, an aging old man from a border kingdom. At first he'd seemed more like a loss than an asset, but he'd proven to have a bright mind and a sharp wit. His daughter, Sylvia, was a bit of a shrew, and Ianto found he didn't much care for her. He was supremely pleased that she hadn't found her way to the conference table.
On Ianto's other side was Sally, a young woman with dark blonde hair who had been sent to represent a few border countries on the other side of the kingdom, a good week and a half ride away. She was a quick, clever, level-headed girl and Ianto had taken a liking to her immediately.
The group was small for now, but allies of those present would probably be informed before the week was out. Ianto privately hoped that it would act like ripples in a pond, those others that Harold had wronged coming forward and throwing their weight behind the fight.
"Of course we would not assume the throne," Arnold finally said. "Queen Rose is a co-regent, she would be reinstated."
"I wasn't aware that she'd been taken out of the line of succession," the Doctor replied. "Her son died, yes -- " All eyes turned onto Ianto, and he ducked his head a little. " -- but he was merely next in line."
"King Harold has said that she's abdicated her position," Lord Curbishley informed him, "and she's gone into seclusion to mourn in peace."
"Well, that solves one problem," the Doctor said. He swung his feet off the table. "The next is how you can justify the deaths of what will be thousands of your own soldiers over the loss of just one person."
Lisa's mother bristled, her back becoming impossibly straighter. "Mr. Smith," she said, her English softly accented, "The King has caused grave injury to my people's family. That alone is enough for our kingdom to go to war with yours."
"I am not trying to belittle the unfortunate death of your daughter, Lady Jabe," the Doctor said, holding his hands up in defense. "What I'm trying to say is that there's another way to handle this. A more peaceful way."
"John," King Wilfred said, smoothing his gnarled fingers against the tabletop. "None of us wanted this to come to pass. They're too young, but I've seen war. I know how horrible it is."
"Then help me try to stop them," the Doctor plead.
"The King understands nothing but violence," Sally finally said. "Any attempts at peaceful negotiation with such men always come to naught."
"There is always another way!" the Time Lord insisted, banging his hands on the table. Everyone jumped at the sudden outburst.
"You didn't see the look on his face, D-octor," Jack said softly, smoothly covering his slip-up. "He was a madman. Rational thought, reasoning, it doesn't register with him."
The Doctor turned to look at Ianto. "So are you on their side too?" he asked.
Ianto had to close his eyes, fighting back the warring sensations he was getting. Revenge, anger, resignation, hopefulness, it all whorled around inside him, making him dizzy. "This will happen whether we assist them or not, sir," he found himself saying. "They've made up their minds."
Next to him, he heard the Doctor's sigh of resignation. They all knew Ianto was only pointing out the obvious.
"However," he continued, eyes still closed, "from what I can understand, it will take time to shore up the numbers for an army, and the winter season is almost upon us."
"The lad's right," King Wilfred said. "War in the cold is hell. It would be better if we waited until the spring thaw."
"That would give you time to try a more diplomatic approach, Doctor," Ianto said.
The Doctor gave Ianto a soft, true smile. Jack gave the young Mage a similar one over his father's shoulder, watching him fondly.
"You're a natural mediator, Mr. Jones," Lord Curbishley complimented. "All right then, it sounds like we have a rough plan."
The others began discussing logistical plans and which ally would be helpful. The Doctor shook his head. "I don't like this," he muttered low enough for only Ianto and Jack to hear.
"Ianto's right, they're going to do this either way," Jack told him, leaning in to keep his voice as low as possible. "We'll have to throw our weight in on one side or the other eventually."
"This is wrong," the older Time Lord insisted. "Torchwood House is supposed to stop these sorts of things."
"Sometimes they're just inevitable, sir," Ianto said softly.
The Doctor fixed him with an unreadable look. "And you'll fight?"
"If it comes to it," the young Mage agreed. "At the very least, Healers will be needed."
Jack's smile was warm, but the Doctor just shook his head. "What do I turn you sweet children into?"
-----
"Ianto!"
Ianto stopped and took a step back, peering into his parent's quarters. "Yes, Tad?"
"Are you done with your lessons for the day?" the elder Jones asked.
"Yes sir."
"Come in, then," the older man beckoned with one hand. "I need some help with this."
Ianto carefully stepped into the room, staring at the overflow of soft, rich fabric draped about the room. "What are you doing, Tad?" he asked with a fond smile.
"I asked your father to make me a new winter wardrobe," came a soft voice from behind the changing screen in the corner.
Ianto's eyes went wide and he gave his father his best glare. "Your Majesty," he managed politely before hissing at his father, "Have you gone mad?"
"Oh hush," he replied in an equally low tone, handing over a bundle of half-sewn clothing. "Your stitching's neater than mine anyway."
"Tad!"
"She specifically asked for you," he said, settling his younger son into his chair and kissing his forehead. "You'll be fine."
"I killed her son," Ianto whispered.
"Just calm down," the older Jones replied, touching his cheek gently. "You'll be fine." He kissed Ianto's forehead before leaving the room.
Ianto felt completely and utterly lost. He'd done his best to avoid Queen Rose since they'd arrived in Torchwood House, never appearing in the same room as her alone -- and never for very long. Frankly, he was terrified of what she could do to him, in her capacity as Queen and as a mother.
He could hear her fidgeting with clothing behind the screen, so he quickly busied himself with the work his father had dumped into his lap. After a few long moments, the Queen stepped out from behind the changing screen.
She was dressed in a very flattering shade of deep green, just dark enough to still be an appropriate mourning color, Ianto noted. The corset fitted nicely around her waist, with a square-cut neckline just low enough for a Queen to get away with. There was the simple-stitch outline of gold embroidery around the neckline and the cuffs of her long sleeves for his family to go back later and complete. Her long blonde hair was half-pinned, the remaining length tumbling down around her shoulders, framing her face. She looked every inch the Queen she was.
Then she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and gave him a tentative, questioning smile and Ianto was reminded so strongly of Jack.
"You look lovely, Your Majesty," he told her, giving her a reassuring, albeit nervous, smile.
"Your father does wonderful work," she replied, smoothing the fabric at her hips.
"He does," Ianto agreed. He set the garment aside and motioned for her to move to the raised platform in the middle of the room. She stepped up easily, raising the hem of the gown so she wouldn't trip, and Ianto knelt down and started pinning the hem up. He'd have her change out of it once he was done, then press and hem it later.
Silence stretched uncomfortably in the room before the Queen broke it. "I don't blame you," she finally blurted out.
Ianto stopped his work, not looking up at her. "You should, ma'am."
"I don't," she repeated. With a fluid motion, she knelt down and lifted his head so she was looking at him. "I'm... Gray, he hadn't been my son for a while," she finally said. "When he was little, he adored me. I guess all little boys adore their Mummies."
Ianto nodded in agreement. "There isn't a little boy alive who wouldn't tear the world apart for his Mam."
"And there isn't a Mum who wouldn't do the same for her little boy," Queen Rose replied, giving him a little bit of a smile. "But Harold, I don't know how, but he managed to take that love and twist it so horribly. I didn't recognize him anymore, that last day." She took a deep breath and shifted, sitting back properly. After a moment, she gave a bitter laugh. "I've lost two little boys. What sort of Mum does that make me?"
Ianto looked down at his hands, unsure for a moment how to handle the question. "I'm sure you did what you thought was best," he said slowly, "what was proper." He took a deep breath. "But Your Majesty still has a son."
"I abandoned him practically the moment he was born," she whispered. "He'll never forgive me."
"Have faith in Jack," Ianto reassured her. "He forgave you a long time ago."
-----
"Jack!" Ianto cried out, swallowing hard as he gasped for air. "Jack, God and Goddess, have some mercy!"
Jack's rich laugh reached Ianto's ears, and Ianto didn't even bother an attempt to suppress the resulting full-body shiver. "And ruin all my fun?"
"I'm shaking all over," Ianto informed the Time Lord, "I cannot feel my fingers and I can't bloody breathe!"
Jack was by his side in an instant, the visor of his metal helmet flipped up. Bright blue eyes tried to find Ianto's through the grill of the young Mage's own helmet. "And yet you still manage to find enough breath to yell at me?" he teased, carefully lifting the head protector off of Ianto.
The cold, crisp air hit Ianto's face like a slap, almost knocking what little breath he had out of him. Ianto had to force himself to breathe again.
Jack's fingers were at his shoulder, undoing the ties to Ianto's metal and leather breastplate. "How was this one? Better than the full suit?"
"Burning hot pokers are better than the suit," Ianto countered, shoving his sword blade first into the cold ground.
The glistening suit of silvery armor had been enticing when he's first seen it, but once it had been painstakingly put on he'd barely been able to move. When he'd managed to be able to propel himself, all he'd been able to hear were his own heavy, clanging footsteps.
It had been maddening.
The breastplate fell away easily, and Ianto flopped theatrically onto the ground. His chain mail shirt chimed softly as the links were pushed together then moved apart as he continued to gasp for air. He stared up at the sky, watching the bands of color thrown up by the setting sun blend together.
"Don't do that," Jack admonished. "Your muscles will seize up when they cool down." He held out a hand, helping Ianto to his feet. "Quartermaster first, then a nice, hot bath."
"That sounds just divine," Ianto agreed.
Tommy, the quartermaster, was friendly as always, but they didn't linger like they normally would, sitting around the little hearth and swapping stories. They stopped briefly at each of their own rooms to gather up fresh clothing before making their way down to the bathhouse.
The bathhouse was a huge affair, just off the side of the House proper, with a long hall connecting the two buildings. There were separate communal baths for both men and women. The tubs were made of marble, shallow on one end and deep enough on the other that Ianto couldn't touch the bottom even on his tiptoes. There were two large dragon statues sitting on either side of the bath, long necks bent downwards to let continuous hot water flood into the bath.
Ianto had made the mistake of asking the Doctor how it worked the first time he saw it and had been treated to an hour-long lecture about pipes and furnaces and water pumps and filters. Donna had later been able to explain it in three sentences: "Water overflows into drains along the edge of the bath. The overflow water goes down underneath the bathhouse and is heated by the furnace. The hot water then gets dumped back into the bath through the dragons."
He learned to ask Donna about anything that day.
Jack had been right; his muscles had frozen up just a bit, so he was considerably slower undressing. Jack had been out of his clothes in moments, walking naked down into the bath. Ianto glared at his backside over the discarded clothing strewn about the floor. He stiffly gathered up their dirty garments and deposited them into a little basket by the door for the laundry maids.
The water was a little too hot at first when it hit his still-chilled skin, but it still felt just lovely. Ianto sank down to sit on the steps, the water up to his shoulders. The completely lewd, utterly orgasmic moan that slipped out of his mouth made him flush a little.
Jack, who had kept his back to Ianto until that moment, turned back and gave him a smile. He was holding a bar of soap, his hands were already full of soap suds, and a few white bubbles clung to his chest. "Feels good?" he asked, raising his arms to run his fingers through his hair.
"Pythia," Ianto replied, swallowing thickly. "It's lovely."
Jack laughed a little bit, scrubbing at his hair to work up a good lather. He tossed the soap over towards Ianto, grinning when he caught it deftly before ducking underneath the water to rinse the suds out. Ianto watched, mesmerized, as Jack slid back up from underneath the water, rivulets dripping from his hair and down his skin. One droplet caught his eye as Jack squeezed the water out of his long hair, the water sliding down over his collarbone and slipping along the edge of one flat brown nipple and down his stomach.
Jack shifted a little, putting his hands on his hips, and Ianto realized -- a little guiltily -- that he'd been caught staring. "Come here," the Time Lord ordered.
Ianto moved through the water, joints still a touch stiff, and was a bit puzzled when Jack had him brace himself up against the wall. He turned his head slightly to ask what was going on when he felt Jack's hands on his back, slick and warm with oil. "You've still got knots in your muscles," Jack informed him, chuckling a little when Ianto all but melted against the wall.
The young Mage closed his eyes and laid his cheek against the cool stone, concentrating on Jack's hands slipping along his back. Jack was clearly an expert at this; he found muscles Ianto didn't know were hurting him until those strong fingers twisted the knots out of them.
Jack's hands, however, weren't the only sensation Ianto was enjoying. He could practically taste the arousal coming off of the Time Lord, Jack's want mixing with his own and making his entire body tingle deliciously. It was intoxicating, alluring, and he welcomed it.
He couldn't fight the slow moan that fell from his mouth as Jack moved his thumbs up along the line of his spine. The water sloshed as Jack leaned in a little closer and his answering chuckle brushed against his ear. "Like that, then?"
"Yes," Ianto breathed softly, eyes closed.
Jack easily dropped a soft kiss on his shoulder and Ianto's breath caught in his chest, his eyes snapping open. Behind him, Jack stiffened a little, his hands freezing mid-rub. "I'm sorry," he said. "I wasn't thinking, it just -- "
Before Jack could finish his sentence, Ianto had spun about and was kissing Jack, his fingers threading through Jack's wet hair. There was a split-second of resistance, Jack surprised by Ianto's sudden movement, but the Time Lord quickly recovered and eagerly kissed him back. Oily hands came up to cup his face as Jack pressed him against the wall, that talented tongue back in his mouth. The Time Lord's body fitted against his so perfectly that Ianto moaned into Jack's mouth, shifting a little and enjoying the slide of wet skin against wet skin. Ianto's arousal slid against Jack's hard shaft and they both moaned.
Jack's mouth moved downwards as he ground his hips against Ianto's, their cocks slipping against each other underneath the water. It felt amazing and terrifying, and Ianto was already, embarrassingly, right there on the edge.
"Jack," he gasped, his head tipping back to give Jack further access to his neck. "Jack, please -- "
Ianto's voice, however, had the opposite intended effect. Jack froze, apparently giving his brain time to catch up and suddenly he was pushing away and sloshing out of the bath. "I'm -- I'm sorry," he stammered, grabbing a towel as he rushed out the door.
Ianto stared after him, at the doorway he'd ran out through for a moment, confused and horny as hell. He looked down at his cock, the moving water making it look distorted. Well, he'd never get anything done with that.
It just took two stokes and he was shuddering his release, the thrill of orgasm definitely subdued. He sighed and slumped against the wall, giving himself a moment to gather himself up, splashed the oil off his face and climbed out as well. He took his time in drying off and dressing, composing what he wanted to say.
The maids were not subtle as they watched him walk down the hall, but he didn't let them bother him. When he reached Jack's room and tried the handle, he discovered it was locked. He almost laughed. Jack honestly thought that a metal lock -- metal, an Earth element -- could keep him out? He put his hand over the lock and the bolt split with ease.
Jack jumped when Ianto wrenched the door open and slammed it behind him. His hair was still wet and unbound and he was clad only in a pair of pants. "Get out."
"Like hell," Ianto replied, putting his hand over the lock and fusing it back together.
"I said, get out!" Jack shouted, moving a little closer to him and pointing.
"No!" Ianto snapped. "I'm sick and tired of this. We're settling this, right here, right now!"
Jack set his jaw stubbornly, but said, "Fine."
"Good." Ianto said, pushing off from the door.
There was a moment of awkward, hesitating silence before Jack prompted him with, "You obviously have something you want to say."
Ianto closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You are a tactile person," he said. From Jack's reaction, this obviously hadn't been what he'd thought the young Mage would say, so Ianto plowed ahead. "With your upbringing, it's not really all that surprising. When you talk to people, you put a hand on their arm. When you teach a new move, you mold yourself to your student to teach them the proper way to move. You hug your friends. So it's natural that anyone you have an affection for, you would display it sexually."
"Hey!" Jack protested. "I do not sleep around, thank you very much."
Ianto put his hands on his hips. "John. Hart."
"Don't start, and that was just a once-off anyway," the Time Lord defended, pointing a finger at Ianto.
"What I'm saying," Ianto said loudly, "is that it's natural for you with everyone else. But me."
Jack sighed and ran a hand over his face. "With you, I'm afraid you don't have a say in what I want."
Ianto's eyes rolled upwards. "Rassilon, send me brains! How many times do we have to go over this?"
"You can't say for certain," Jack defended.
A moment of inspiration hit Ianto. "What do you want?" he asked.
Jack blinked at him, taken aback by the random question. "What?"
"What do you want?" Ianto asked, stepping a little closer. "Deep down, more than anything else?"
"What I've wanted for you from the start! Ianto, I just want you to be happy." The moment the words left Jack's mouth, a thoughtful look crossed his face.
"Now he gets it," Ianto said, throwing his hands up in the air. "Idiot."
"So..." Jack drawled, motioning between the two of them, "I'm not manipulating you?"
"No," Ianto reassured him. "When someone wants me to just be happy, it's the only time I'm honestly, truly free."
"And you -- want me?"
"Yes."
Jack watched him for a moment. "I... I'll need some time," he admitted. "For myself. To make sure."
"Okay," Ianto agreed. "Slow I can do. Just no more of this start-and-stop."
Jack smiled and nodded. "My room tonight?" he asked after a pause.
"Goddess, I got so worn out by all of this," Ianto agreed. "You kicked my arse today."
The Time Lord laughed a little, turning back the corner of the bedclothes. "I went easy on you," he told him. "When spring comes, the other side will not be as forgiving."
Ianto kicked off his shoes and climbed straight into bed. Jack laid down on the top of the sheets, and the young Mage raised an eyebrow. "I'm fully clothed," he pointed out
"I don't quite trust myself," the Time Lord replied.
"You're going to freeze," Ianto pointed out.
"What's it going to do, kill me?" Jack quipped, but he still climbed in under the covers.
Ianto moved next to him, putting an arm around him. He was almost afraid that Jack would disappear on him in the middle of the night.
One long finger moved to tip his head up, and Jack carefully pressed his mouth against Ianto's. "Sleep well."
"I will now," Ianto reassured him.
-----
The snow was just beginning to melt away when Harriet gave birth to her second child, a little girl with a head full of black hair. She quickly became the darling of Torchwood House, the first baby born there in about 10 years.
Harriet and Ross let Ianto name his new niece. Everyone had been surprised when he'd picked the name Estelle -- his Mam's name -- instead of Lisa. They called her Elly and loved her to bits.
Except little Ross. He was not pleased.
"Girls are stupid," he announced to his uncle one night. Elly had been a touch fussy, as new babies are sometimes, and Ianto had volunteered to put Ross down for the night.
Ianto raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Want to tell your Grandmam and Mam that one?" he challenged teasingly.
Ross gave an annoyed sigh. "Uncle Ianto," he admonished, "they're ladies. They're different from girls."
"Oh, my mistake," Ianto replied, looking down at the storybook in his lap. No damsels in distress being rescued tonight, then.
"All she does is cry anyway," the boy continued. "Why did Mam and Tad want a new baby anyway?"
Ianto smiled and closed the book, setting it aside. "Well," he said, moving to stretch out next to him. Ross had insisted that he sleep in Ianto's bed that night, so there was more than enough room. "Sometimes when a Mam and a Tad love each other, they want to have a baby," he started. "Your parents had you, and you turned out just brilliantly, so they wanted to have another one." He tweaked Ross's nose, making him giggle. He grinned down at him. "They love you, kid. You know that, right?"
Ross nodded and curled up a little against his uncle. Ianto put an arm around him, pulling him closer before he dropped a kiss on the top of his head.
"Uncle Ianto?" the little voice was curious, wondering.
Ianto smiled against the dark curly hair. "What?"
"You love Jack, right?" He looked up at his uncle, almost identical blue eyes meeting. "Like how Tad loves Mam?"
Ianto traced his teeth with his tongue. "I don't know," he admitted. "I think so."
"Oh." Ross chewed this bit of information over for a few moments before looking up at Ianto again. "Does that mean you and Jack are going to have a baby?"
Ianto sighed and covered his face with his free hand. It was going to be a long night.