Fic: In Bits and Pieces 7c
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part 7b
- I dreamt last night I saw you, a single spark explosion negotiating with the dead. By the bright lights in some ICU, on my chest you put your head and said, There you are, there you are, there's my heart.
- Matthew Good, A Single Explosion
In the stifling, crushing dark, there’s a tiny pinprick of light and a soft tug, a pull right at the center of his-
Jack opens his eyes slowly, the blurry grey of the ceiling coming into focus. Oxygen re-inflates his lungs, rushing along in his blood to his brain and toes and fingertips. Everything is all healed up again.
There’s a warm weight by his side; Jack turns his head and, with a low, cracked voice, whispers, “Hey.”
Ianto starts, snuffling into the crushed wool of Jack’s coat bunched up beneath his head, and stands up quickly, knocking the little metal chair back with a screech. He blinks a few times and looks right into Jack’s eyes. “Welcome back.”
“How long was I-” Jack tries to lift his arm, to push himself up from the table, and groans; the muscles in his back seize up, twitching.
Ianto leans toward him. “Here, let me.” Jack tries to reach his arm around Ianto as he bends, but it doesn’t seem to want to work properly. Ianto gently places it over his shoulder and wraps both of his arms around Jack’s waist as he helps him to sit up. His large hands are warm on Jack’s lower back; his breath is hot and smells like coffee and mint as he whispers in Jack’s ear, “You were… out the whole night. Good morning.”
The skin of Ianto’s cheek against his is burning in comparison and a shiver rumbles down Jack’s spine as he tries to wrap his other arm around Ianto’s neck to draw the warmth into himself. He leans forward, resting all his weight against Ianto’s chest, and feels Ianto shift between his legs, one of his warm arms leaving Jack’s back for a moment before he feels the weight of fabric draped over his shoulders.
Ianto pulls back and tucks Jack’s coat around him, running his hands up and down Jack’s arms. He reaches up and brushes his fingers over Jack’s forehead, feathery touches on the same spot after the first time he’d watched Jack die.
“Do you want-”
“Where’s-” Jack stops, smiles. “You first.”
“I just-”
“Jack!”
He looks over his shoulder to see Gwen nearly tripping over in her rush to get down the stairs, arms flailing to keep her balance. She stops just short of them until Ianto reaches his arm out and draws her in. Her chin fits right into the hollow between Jack’s neck and shoulder, the soft roundness of her breasts pressing against him. He curls one arm around her waist and tightens his hold on Ianto, leaning into him, firm and solid.
Jack blows Gwen’s hair away from his mouth with a little laugh. “Don’t tell me you guys were worried.”
She breathes into his neck, hot and damp, and pulls back far enough to look him in the eye. “Who, us? ‘Course not.” She grins up at him, but her eyes are tired and sunken. “Besides, we know you’ll do anything to get out of doing the cleanup.”
He looks between her and Ianto. “What happened to the-”
“Taken care of,” Ianto answers, quickly. “More or less. There’s an invisible spaceship full of bodies, though, that I thought I’d leave for you.”
“Oh, thanks. Just what I always wanted.” Jack pauses. “Actually…”
“He’s back with us then?” John’s voice behind him is low and almost melodic. He’s playing at being indifferent, but there’s always a tell. Jack turns his head just enough to glimpse John out of the corner of his eye. If he truly didn't care, he wouldn’t have said anything at all.
Ianto straightens in his arms, spine going rigid. He clears his throat, stepping out of Jack’s grasp. “I’ve held off calling UNIT for as long as possible, but perhaps now that you’re-”
“Oh, do we have to? Talking to them always gives me such a headache. Maybe if-”
“Coffee.” Ianto gives him a short nod, but raises an eyebrow at Gwen before he turns away and walks up the stairs with measured, deliberate steps.
Gwen laughs as Ianto passes. Her hand rubs gently up and down Jack’s forearm. “You’re cold,” she says softly.
Jack pinches the fabric of his torn shirt between two fingers to pluck it away from his skin. “And sticky.” The dried blood and sweat have crusted in the cotton. “I think a nice hot sponge bath would do the trick, Nurse Cooper.”
She grins, shaking her head and stepping away, stuffing her hands into her back pockets. “And I think I’d best wake Rhys.”
“Rhys is here?” But Gwen’s already halfway up the stairs. She glances back just once with a small smile on her face, before disappearing off into the hub, to her husband.
John walks slowly along the railing, staring down at Jack. “I used to say,” he starts, coming down the steps. “Right after you disappeared, I used to say, tell anyone I met, that if I ever saw you again I’d kill you.”
“Well,” Jack tilts his chin up, grinning. “I have to say, I’m impressed. Follow-through was never your strong suit.”
John’s eyelids flicker, but he doesn’t look away, doesn’t avoid Jack’s eyes. Neither Gwen nor Ianto would mention the fact that Jack smells after coming back to life, of blood and other… things. But, of course, tact was never one of John’s strong suits, either. He wrinkles his nose up at Jack as he comes closer and Jack glares back at him.
“What’s it like?” John asks, eyes darker than Jack remembers. “When you’re dead?”
Jack stares, tips his head back just a little. The air around him is beginning to feel cool now.
With a shrug, John finally looks away. “Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll find out soon enough.” He shuffles his feet, hands tucked into the pockets of his ridiculously tight trousers. The bandage is gone from his arm, revealing the mutilated flesh, burnt and sliced and scarred. Back in the old days, the future, that could have been fixed right up, good as new in no time.
“I didn’t recognize any of them,” Jack says, after a while. “But they knew me.”
John simply shrugs again and leans back against the autopsy table next to him. “Things change. That didn’t stop in your absence.” John laughs, a short huff of air out his nose. “You never could stay still for very long. You were always looking, reaching for something else. Something only you could see.” He looks sideways at Jack. “You won’t stay here forever.”
“Here won’t be forever.” Jack stands unsteadily and brushes past him. At the bottom of the stairs, he stops and half turns back. “It was never-”
“I understand now.”
Jack pauses. “Understand what?”
“Why you never let yourself love anyone.”
The chill is worse all of a sudden, like a draft has blown through the room, sweeping up Jack’s spine. He clutches at his coat, still draped over his shoulders like a cape. Out in the hub, he hears voices and the distant hiss of the coffeemaker. John’s eyes stare blankly ahead.
Ianto had once asked Jack if he’d ever loved anyone. Owen had believed, and had tried to fit himself into the callous mold of Jack Harkness and Torchwood. Gwen’s implied it in a roundabout sort of way, when a situation arises. They’d seen, at those times, what they’d needed to see in him.
Toshiko, even in her anger, had understood. Or so he’d thought. The dull ache in the pit of Jack’s stomach flares sharper for a moment. It must show on his face, because John pushes away from the table, sweeping a hand all around him and says, “It doesn’t get you anything in the end, does it?”
Studying John, Jack tries to remember the man he’d first met so very long ago. But it’s gone; he can’t get past that image he’s had of himself for over a century. Or longer. He can’t remember the people they were together, can’t remember how or why they’d stayed… partners.
Can’t remember if there was ever love between them.
Ianto’s shoes only make the tiniest of sounds on the floor, but Jack hears him anyway. It took a while, but he’s finally learned that trick. Ianto comes down the steps to stand beside him, holding his silver tray up, offering Jack his mug with a smile. Jack’s hands feel frozen as he cups them around the mug, brushing against Ianto’s fingers, looking up into Ianto’s bright…
… eyes so cleverly dark and always up to something, hair wild and curly, his legs wrap so tightly around Jack’s waist, he thinks they’ll never let…
… go to war together and change the universe. “It’ll be amazing! We’ll be heroes! We can’t just wait around for them to wipe us all out in wave after wave. Each year it gets worse! Your family! My dad and Gr-” The other boy surges forward, grabs him by the face and it’s their very first kiss. “OK. You know I’d follow you…
… anywhere, Jack. We could go absolutely anywhere. In years to come, we could be out there, dancing among the stars,” Estelle informs him, quite seriously, pointing up into the night sky. Her eyes and her pale skin shine in the moonlight reflected off the…
… water, frozen in hundred foot waves high above their heads. Jack catches Rose’s hand as she skates past him, laughing, and together they twirl in a big circle. She reaches back for the Doctor, pulling him along and he’s laughing that…
… deep, throaty laugh was what Jack noticed first, coming from the parlor. But the first time he sees her, he stops in his tracks. She is so beautiful, dark eyes and dark hair cascading…
… tears that he can no longer hold back, dripping down his face to stain the boy’s already blood soaked uniform, squeezing the slackening grip in his…
… hand wrenched away; he imagines he can remember the feeling of loss in that moment, but he’ll never be sure if it was real or just something he made up in his head. Nerveless fingers fumble open his Vortex Manipulator, ready to leave this place like all the others. Gray’s still out there somewhere; he’ll keep looking, won’t stop until he…
… finds someone to replace him. Jack’s not meant to be here; Torchwood is not his life and damn Alex for doing this to him. Damn Alex for making him feel like he belonged, making him want to stay here for…
… Ianto offers him a little smile and Jack releases his fingers.
After a moment, Ianto crosses the room and offers the other cup on the tray to John. “It’s tea,” he says when John does nothing. “No sugar.”
John takes the cup with a smirk, not missing the opportunity to runs his fingers over the back of Ianto’s knuckles. Ianto pulls his hand back, rolling his eyes.
Jack touches his elbow, saying, “Come on,” guiding him back to the steps. “I need to clean up.” He lets Ianto go on ahead of him, before turning back to John. “Don’t find out too soon, eh?”
John holds his gaze, brow creasing, before turning away.
Walking through the hub on his way to his office, Jack stops short.
Gwen is sitting on the arm of the sofa, feet up on the seat, bringing her at about eye level with the alien sitting on the other end. Its head looks bizarrely small and bald, reflecting the low lights of the hub whenever it moves, and it’s wearing… bed sheets wrapped around it like a toga. They appear to be trying to hold a conversation. Gwen’s got that wide-eyed, lost little girl expression on her face, but she’s smiling. She’s even laughing.
She catches Jack’s eyes and turns to him, “We’re calling him- it Vic.”
The alien looks up at him, small, round eyes like two dark onyx stones. “Snchoghjjinnhwfwlvicvicvic,” it says.
The communicator crackles a bit. Ianto passes closely by Jack, whispering, “We’ve got to do something about its communicator thingy making it sound like you. It’s disturbing on many levels.”
Jack narrows his eyes as Ianto swiftly walks away. His voice sounds nothing like that, at all. He claps his hands together. “Right. Vic it is.” Glancing around the hub, Jack asks, “Aren’t we missing someone?”
Gwen sighs, exaggeratedly. “Rhys had to go to work.” She sounds mildly amused.
Jack grins. “Saving the world one shipment at a time. OK, kids, I need to… clean up, so don’t break anything while I’m-"
“Nhoossi,” the alien, Vic, says, stopping Jack in his tracks. The next words are in a language Jack’s nearly forgotten that he ever knew. But the meaning is clear: You have far to go; your journey is not yet ended.
- Sun shines in the rusty morning, skyline of the Olympus Mons; I think about it sometimes. Sun shines in the rusty morning, once I had a good fly.
- The Pixies, Bird Dream of The Olympus Mons
“So… does it count as a date if all we’ve done is sneak away from the hub for lunch?”
“Yes.”
“But the first one got interrupted by a weevil.”
“Still counts.”
“And last time was just dinner; we didn’t even make it out of your flat.”
“You cooked; I’m counting it.”
“Alright.” Jack mock sighs, throwing his hands up in the air as though in surrender. Ianto smiles and that’s all that counts. Jack taps his foot at the leg of his chair, grinning to himself at the blissful look on Ianto’s face as he takes a sip of his coffee. His eyes are closed and his cheeks are slightly flushed, hair still damp from running through the rain, and Jack would like to freeze this moment. After a year of… not having this, it feels so good to be back, to bask in the little things, like before.
“You keep saying that.”
He looks up, worried that he’s been thinking aloud again, and now Ianto is watching him. “Hm?”
Ianto rolls his eyes and ducks his head a little, setting his coffee cup down onto the table between them. The dissonant noise of the café around them is muffled by the glass partition separating their table from the rest, and the rain patters against the windowpane, racing down in shining streaks.
“Before. You… well, you’ve mentioned it a few times, how it was before,” Ianto continues, looking at him with sharp eyes. “Before you left, you mean? Jack, I’m not sure where you went or what happened-”
“It’s not-”
“And I’m not asking. It’s just that… well, we weren’t like this. Before. You and I, Jack. We were…” Ianto gazes up toward the ceiling then back down into Jack’s eyes, a soft smile curving just the corner of his mouth. “We were something, I suppose, but it’s different now. I’m different. You’re very different. But sometimes I get the feeling you’ve been missing something that didn’t exist.”
“I-” But Jack can’t quite think of what he means. Months aboard the Valiant spent mostly in isolation, save mealtimes and those few occasions when the Ma- And Jack’s thoughts had been all over the place, dreaming of sunlight and sand and sea and life. A life, his life, any life. He’d forgotten simple things like the taste of curry and the sound of Toshiko’s laughter. He’d craved silly, mundane things like cold, day old pizza and beer like they were the best meal he could ever have.
Had he remembered things that had never happened? He’d had vivid, waking dreams that he knows weren’t real and yet can still feel as viscerally as the knives that had sliced through him.
“Jack?”
“I don’t want to-”
“I don’t need to know every little thing about you, Jack. I’m not saying I don’t like listening. Not saying that I’m not interested. I like hearing about your life. Anything you want to tell me. Even the hard stuff. Even the scary bits.”
And Jack knows that Ianto isn’t talking about the monsters he’s faced.
“So, whatever you think this-” Ianto bites his lip, color creeping up from beneath his collar. “Anything you ever want to say, I’m… anything, whatever, Jack. Just clue me in occasionally, yeah?”
The rain is still pouring down, but the sun breaks through the clouds, casting shadows of tiny droplets from the window across the surface of the table and Ianto’s hands and face. He appears bright yet marred, only for that moment. Jack grins at him, nods his head. Memories and wishes so easily meld together.
“Jack? Sorry to interrupt your lunch-”
Startled, Jack quickly taps his earpiece. “Yeah, Tosh, what is it?”
“Small rift spike not far from you. It’s an object, maybe the size of a breadbox, and registering low meson energy signals. If you’re busy, Owen and I could-”
“Nah, Tosh, with Gwen still on holiday we need you to man the hub. I’ll get it, and I’m sending Ianto back with some of these pastries for you.”
Ianto raises an eyebrow at that and Jack signals for the bill. Ianto stands, walking around the table and lifting Jack’s coat from the back of his chair. “Go, I’ll take care of this,” he says, gesturing to Jack with the coat.
“But I’m-”
“Rift crisis, saving the world, etcetera, etcetera. Honestly, Jack, which is more important here?” Ianto shakes the coat at him again and Jack turns, sliding his arms into the sleeves and allowing Ianto to settle the weight carefully onto his shoulders.
Before he steps away, Jack reaches up and cups Ianto’s face to kiss him quickly on the lips.
- I could smell your skin beside me and say I hope I'm here forever. Oh but, Captain, with your lovers… they will flame up and you won’t know that you are burning.
- Okkervil River, For the Captain
It’s a while before the water runs clear, washing away all the blood from Jack’s skin.
He feels Ianto’s presence behind him in his shower room before Ianto’s hand touches his shoulder. Jack turns, blinking water and soap out of his eyes, reaches out to run his own hand down Ianto’s bare chest, grabs hold of his hip and pulls him in. There’s a wet slapping sound of skin as Ianto stumbles and falls against him. The water from the low showerhead sprays over Jack’s shoulder, trickling slick between their bodies. Ianto grips Jack’s arms, sliding up to his neck, cupping his face and holding him there. Ianto’s mouth, wet and warm, still tastes of coffee and mint. And salt.
Jack slides his arms around Ianto’s waist. He spares a single thought for Gwen, out in the hub, left to deal with John and an alien all on her own. But she’s capable. She’s fiery and strong, and Ianto is here and hard against him, shivering and in need of something.
Ianto pushes against him, turns them into the spray and Jack snuffs water up his nose, spluttering. But Ianto’s hand on the back of his head, fingers twisting in his hair, draws him in again and Jack doesn’t really need to breathe so much anyway. Ianto’s other hand slips across Jack’s back, fingers digging into the flesh.
A good thing about being of a near equal height - everything matches up just perfectly. Ianto makes a tiny sound, not quite a moan or a sob, into Jack’s mouth before pulling his lips away.
“Come on,” Jack whispers in his ear and Ianto’s whole body shudders, rushing up and spilling out over Jack’s belly and hip.
Ianto pushes his face between Jack’s neck and shoulder. He cries silently. Elegant and understated. Jack wraps his arms tight around him and they sort of sway there for a moment. Ianto leans heavily against him as he turns them into the spray, washing them clean again.
Ianto’s hands fall to Jack’s hips and one slides around to his arse as the other palms over his cock, though he’s still soft. Jack just pulls Ianto’s arms back around his waist, bringing their bodies even closer. Into his neck, Ianto mumbles, “I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”
“Hey. I’ve been taking care of myself for years. Long before I met you.”
Laying his head down on Jack’s shoulder again, Ianto sighs. “And you will long after…”
Jack kisses his forehead, running his hands up Ianto’s back and into his hair, letting the wet strands stick to his fingers. “You need a haircut.”
“Who’s got the time?” Ianto’s laugh is a hot breath against Jack’s neck.
Leaning back, Jack winces against the cold tiles of the shower wall, pulling Ianto with him. Time. “We should get back.”
Ianto’s arms tighten around Jack’s waist. “Just stay for a bit.”
---
Threading the silk tie through his collar, Ianto stares at his reflection in the mirror. No doubt the others have taken note of their absence. He should be horribly embarrassed by this, but he’s not at all. And Jack is just grinning at him as he disappears up the ladder to his office. That wide, happy, Jack grin. Carefree. Alive.
It will just keep happening to Jack, over and over. Forever. And Ianto is a selfish bastard because he’s only happy that Jack is alive and will always be alive, no matter what.
He finds Jack and Gwen standing around the workbench on the mid-level of the hub, staring at the Weevil Magnet. It’s giving off a pale bluish glow.
“It works?”
Jack turns around with a croissanwich stuffed in his mouth and Gwen points into the conference room, saying, “I ordered food. Got your favorite.” She grins at him and Ianto nods his thanks.
“I didn’t think this place did delivery.”
“They do when I call,” Gwen tells him.
Jack takes a bite, gesturing to the workbench, and starts talking with his mouth full. “It was probably working until we dropped it. And then you must have kick-started it when you, uh, kicked it.”
Gwen frowns. “You kicked it?”
“I didn’t kick it. I… tripped over it. It was his fault.” Ianto points at Jack.
“Don’t worry,” Jack says. “It wasn’t doing anything. Other than blocking our equipment,” he concedes with a faint smile. “It wasn’t burnt out, exactly, but it was… I think it used the rift energy to recharge. Like a battery.”
Gwen folds her arms over her chest, looking perturbed. “I just can’t believe that all of that happened by coincidence. It makes no sense.”
“What do you mean?” Ianto asks, stepping up beside them.
“There’s no denying the randomness of the universe.” Jack laughs, softly. “This is just my theory, but I think the Weevil Magnet came through, just like anything, and latched onto the largest source of energy, namely the rift. Blew it wide open, soaking up as much energy as possible while blocking our equipment. The Schn- er, High Watcher, Vic, didn’t mean to come here, but was sucked through following the energy pattern-”
Gwen shakes her head. “But John said it ended up here because of you.”
“John’s a big fat liar who makes stuff up all the time,” Jack answers, instantly. “Those rogue Agents were hired by… Oh, I don’t know… Vic’s own people, probably - they like to keep to their own little corner of the universe, where they’re the big guns - to come after it. They followed Vic through the Rift and… here we are. Gwen, you said it was fleeing something, right?”
“Well, I don’t think its communicator is working properly - it seems to be… missing words or translations to English. But that’s why it sounds like you; it picked up your voice pattern first.”
“It doesn’t sound-”
“But,” Gwen continues over him, “it mentioned something about… everything going dark or… disappearing. Something. It said one of their planets just vanished, like maybe it imploded?” she half asks, looking up at Jack and then shrugs. “And it said it escaped before… whatever or whoever could get it, too.”
“Perhaps,” Ianto suggests, “they were looking for it because of the advanced technology its people has?”
“Possibly.” Jack considers it for a moment. “Although, why they’d go for that one, I’m not sure. It’s clearly an escaped criminal, with the shoddy job on the communicator; it was probably not even allowed off planet.”
Gwen chews her lip. “But John said-”
“Lying liar who lies, remember. It may have taken me a bit longer, but I can figure stuff out, too. I still don’t think it’s dangerous to us. It’s not the most advanced of its species. They do some amazing things in the future with technology before they end up destroying themselves.”
“They what?”
“Oh yeah. Intelligence and common sense don’t always go hand in hand. In a few thousand years they create this super computer that wipes out their entire species. Fortunately, the technology and the knowledge of how to build it die with them before anyone else in the universe can replicate it. Judging by the tech this one has, it’s from not too far in the future, less than a century. Earth century,” Jack clarifies. “On its planet, it would probably be the equivalent of the 1300s on Earth.”
“OK.” Gwen nods, not like it’s OK at all. “So, what do we do with it?”
“No idea.”
Ianto looks around. “Where are…”
“They’re down in John’s room,” Gwen says, offhand.
“Doing what?”
Jack waggles his eyebrows, grinning, as he passes. Ianto looks to Gwen and she shrugs. Shaking his head, Ianto mutters, “It doesn’t have a mouth.”
---
Up in the tourist office, Ianto idly shuffles a few brochures as he’s put on hold for a third time. He sighs, looking about - noting the peeling paint and shabby fixtures, the clutter and general disarray designed to be uninviting - and wonders if he should even bother opening up today. He vaguely begins to recognize the tinny muzak playing in his ear, and now he’s going to have that song stuck in his head all day. Jack never gets put on hold.
There’s a series of clicks and then… “Ianto, what’s this I hear about a spaceship landing in Cardiff?”
“Dr. Jones. You sound busy, thank you for taking my call.”
Martha sighs dramatically in his ear. “Just tell me he’s alright.”
---
As Ianto makes his way through the hub to Jack’s office, he bumps into Gwen. “Oh, I’ve got something for you.” He pulls a slip of paper from his pocket and hands it to her. “The direct line through UNIT. No more waiting.”
“Oh, bless you. If I hear one more bloody note of ‘Greensleeves’, I’ll snap.”
“You can thank Martha personally in a bit; I’m about to get her on the line with Jack. Where are our… guests?”
“John is with Jack in his office and, apparently, Vic’s species take in nutrients through the skin, so it’s in the hothouse soaking it up with the plants.”
Ianto nods and starts on his way, but stops abruptly, turning back to her. “You saw him naked? It, I mean.”
“I know, it’s still weird. But, believe you me, ‘it’ is the only thing that fits. It doesn’t have any…” Gwen gestures down to her lower half, “anything. And, yes. Very, very naked.”
“Wonder how they reproduce.”
“Dunno.” Gwen shrugs. “I hope it’s not like gremlins where you just throw water on them, because it’s been up there for a while and the sprinklers have come on at least twice.”
Ianto’s eyes flick up toward the hothouse and Gwen laughs at him. He aims his ‘stern face’ at her as she hurries to her desk, before rushing off to Jack’s office himself. As he pauses in the doorway, John is saying something in that language again and Jack laughs out loud, throwing his head back. He looks up and, seeing Ianto there, waves him in.
Ianto glances between them. “What’s funny?”
Still sort of chuckling, Jack wipes at his eyes. “Just reminiscing and telling old jokes. It doesn’t really translate into English very well. Or, well, being stuck here, my language skills got a bit rusty, I guess.”
John, sitting on the opposite edge of Jack’s desk, uncrosses his legs and stands up. “It’s your basic ‘a rabbi, a priest and a duck walk into a bar’ joke. Just replace priest with Time Agent and duck with… eh, this thing that has six legs, five eyes, and a lot of mucus and it’s pretty much the same thing.”
“Sure.” Ianto nods, slowly, then lifts his eyebrows. “Jack, if you’ve got a moment?”
“Yeah,” Jack says, looking pointedly at John.
“Whatever.” He saunters out of the room, throwing one last smirk in Ianto’s direction.
Closing the door, Ianto quickly explains his secret ongoing dealings with Dr. Connelly, hoping Jack won’t be upset about this. “She refuses to give up the hospital. So, we made a deal. She’s ours. We’ve set up emergency protocols with the hospital. It’s a bit like what Owen had going only… better. She’s senior staff now. At first, she didn’t want the promotion without earning it, but it’s the only way we could be sure that she would have the authority to oversee all Torchwood business.”
Pursing his lips, Jack says, “This is… this is great. But…”
“But it means we still need a field medic and probably another expert in alien biology. Which is where this comes in. Dr. Jones-”
“Ianto, I told you. I don’t want-”
“Jack. Martha is a soldier. You didn’t do that to her. Besides, she said she’s far too busy with UNIT at the moment and some special projects, but she can provide us with a few people on temporary loan that will rotate on a monthly basis. If you approve, that is. She’s on the line for you.”
Jack stares at him for a moment, then rolls his eyes, sighing, “Alright,” and picks up the phone. “Martha Jones! I’m still waiting on that UNIT cap.”
With a tiny shake of his head, Ianto backs out of the office trying not to laugh. He pauses, looking over at Gwen, but she’s on the phone as well, so he walks over to the kitchen to make some coffee. Glancing around, he notices shadows up in the hothouse and, again, has to wonder what John and an alien that apparently has no sex organs could possibly be doing.
He’s just setting the mugs out on the tray when there’s a holler from Jack’s office. It sounds rather like, “Ya-haa!”
Jack comes bounding out, grinning madly. “Ianto! I hope you’ve still got your dancing shoes. Guess what?”
Stopping next to Gwen’s desk, Ianto sets the tray down and hands her a mug. “Martha’s engaged.”
Gwen sits up straighter, smile widening. “What? Is she still on the line?” She fumbles for her phone again and Jack tells her to hit line one.
As Gwen babbles happily at Martha, Jack grabs Ianto from behind, spinning him around. In the small space, Ianto trips, but Jack catches him by the elbow and takes his hand. Jack quickly taps a sequence on his wrist strap and slides his other arm around Ianto’s waist to pull him close as soft music fills the hub.
“So,” Jack says, smiling, “I managed to wrangle an invitation to the wedding, but I need a date.”
“Oh, well I’m sure you’ll find someone. Having already been invited, I’ll be looking for my own date, as well.” Jack bares his teeth and growls. Then he tries some tricky dance-step, sweeping them both around and Ianto stumbles, almost losing his balance completely. “Hey, let’s not get fancy.”
“It’s Martha’s sister Tish that can’t wait to meet you.” Jack says quietly into Ianto’s ear, “She… looked after me while I was gone.”
Jack had, after a time, given him what Ianto calls the ‘Cliffs Notes’ version of his time away (and what Ianto believes was really just the blurb on the book jacket). The gist being that Jack was not happy and it was not fun. So, if someone had somehow made it more bearable for Jack, then Ianto is not going to pass up the chance to thank her in person.
Ianto has to keep glancing down at his feet when Jack tries more moves. “Gwen, help me out here,” he complains, pushing away from Jack and pulling Gwen forward. He places her hand in Jack’s and steps away.
She laughs as Jack twirls her around. And Gwen’s not actually all that graceful, either. Or all that adept at following someone else’s lead, but at least she’s small, so that Jack can lift her when she accidentally treads on his toes.
Above them, John steps out of the door from the hothouse and leans over the railing to watch. When Ianto looks up, John stares down at him, his face expressionless.
---
Ianto waits patiently for the sound of shots to stop echoing before he enters the firing range. Jack must hear the door open, because he turns to Ianto, removing his ear defenders and goggles. Rolling his shoulders, Jack says, “I feel a little better now.”
“Good to hear.” Ianto smiles at him, before reporting the news. “The UNIT team will arrive tomorrow morning at 05:00 to transport the ship.”
Jack frowns, snapping the spent clip out of his gun, and begins cleaning up. “In the morning? Why can’t they do it tonight? You know, under the cover of darkness. Sure the ship isn’t that big, but I think people will notice they aren’t towing a Volkswagen.”
“I was all set to do the standard cover story: new BBC television prop - but they actually have a better way.”
“Oh?”
Ianto waits until Jack looks up. “They’ve got a cloaking device.”
At that, Jack stops. “Do they? I thought we were all about sharing information these days,” he mutters, wiping the weapons down and placing each in their individual cases. “They do know that the ship is already cloaked, right? It’s practically invisible, but it’s still going to look conspicuous hauling a big, wobbly empty space on a flatbed truck along the M4 surrounded by military vehicles.”
“More of a perception filter then, I guess, than a cloaking device. Supposedly, it projects whatever image they program it to. So anyone who sees the convoy would perceive it as… I don’t know, a traveling circus or something.”
They both grimace at the memories that that mental image conjures up. Jack snaps the last case shut and stands up straight, facing Ianto. “You know,” he says, leaning back against the wall. “We could take it. I could take you out there and show you things you’ve never dreamed of.”
“Perhaps now is the time to mention I have a slight fear of flying and the thought of being out in space with no air makes me panic a bit. Besides, the ship is busted. I’m not zipping around the universe with you rigged up as the power source. That’s just a little outside my comfort zone.”
Jack grins, looking down at his shoes. “I might have come up with a way around that, actually.”
“Oh, really?”
“Well, was talking with John earlier about the,” Jack gestures vaguely, “Weevil Magnet. If the ship has the right sort of adapters, it could power the engines for… Years, probably.”
Ianto nods, slowly. “You miss it? Being out there?”
“It’s a helluva lot of fun.” Jack pushes away from the wall and walks over to Ianto, slipping one arm around his waist. “I have lifetimes ahead of me to spend out there. Right here, right now, though...”
Looking over Jack’s should, Ianto tries not to smile. “And Captain Hart-”
“Do we have to keep calling him that? He’s just mocking me.”
“What else should we call him?” He meets Jack’s eye. “Do you even remember his real name?”
Jack shrugs. “Can’t you think up something really insulting, but in that subtle and clever Ianto way?”
Laughing slightly, Ianto asks, “Is it wrong that I sort of want to kill him and kiss him at the same time?”
“Well that’s- Did you say kiss him?”
“For saving our arses. And you.”
“I thought you hated him.”
“I don’t-” Ianto rolls his eyes and shrugs. “I just want to shoot him sometimes.”
“He has that effect on a lot of people.” Somehow, Ianto’s hands have found their way to Jack’s shoulders and both of Jack’s hands are on his hips, and they’re nearly dancing again.
“He’s been…” Ianto forces the words out, “Useful, I suppose.”
“You trust him now?”
“No. I don’t trust him and I don’t like him, but… He fixed the rift predictor, he’s good with alien tech, he seems to recall more than… you and he actually used the rift manipulator to manipulate the rift. Not that that was a good thing, just that he’s the only person I’ve known to use it properly. His skills could come in handy, Jack. And he actually listens to you. For the most part.”
“I may be a bit sluggish from recent death and all, but you’re not honestly suggesting we hire him, are you?”
“It would solve at least one problem.”
“And create about ten more.” Jack’s hand moves around Ianto’s hip to rest just in the dip at the bottom of his spine, not quite over his arse. “Besides, I don’t expect he’ll want to stick around for very long.”
“Probably not. What with all of your stories about all the amazing things out there.”
“You know… I do tend to embellish just a bit.”
“Noooo, really?”
Jack leans in, pulling Ianto against him, and nips at the very tip of Ianto’s turned up nose. “Do you need any firing practice? I thought maybe we could work on your form.” Jack leans back, frowning. “What? Ianto Jones, I know that look on your face. What is it?”
“D’you know… I think he is actually in love with you.” Jack looks surprised and Ianto laughs, self-consciously, looking away. “Never mind.”
“Ianto.” But he can’t look up yet. “Ianto,” Jack says again, raising his fingers to Ianto’s chin and tipping his face until they are eye to eye.
“You haven’t forgotten him. After all these years.”
“No.” Jack shakes his head. “There are people in your life that you never forget.” He bends forward again, resting his forehead against Ianto’s. “I may not remember everything, not accurately. Not forever.”
Nodding, their heads sort of bumping together, Ianto cups Jack’s face and kisses him.
“Jack? Ianto? You down there?” Gwen’s voice over the intercom echoes through the cavernous, abandoned tunnel.
They pull apart and Jack reaches up to tap his ear. “Gwen- Damn, I left my-”
“I’ve got mine,” Ianto says. “Gwen, we’re here. What is it?”
“John’s gone.”
They exchange a look before bolting for the door. Bypassing the lift, they go straight up the stairs, barreling out into the hub to find Gwen at the tech computer searching the CCTV.
“The SUV’s gone, too,” she reports, without even turning to look at them.
Jack stops in the middle of the room, feet planted apart with his hands on his hips. “Where’s Vic?” he asks, as though he already knows the answer.
Gwen glances around, furtively, but Ianto notices something else. “Look.” He points to the empty workbench. “The Weevil Magnet is gone, too.”
“No. No, no, no, I’m going to kill him!” Jack barks, clenching his fists. “Gwen, weapons! Come with me.” Jack hurries for his coat and his holster, checking his revolver as he goes. “Ianto, go get your car and meet us on the Plass.” Jack’s up on the invisible lift, barely waiting for Gwen to hop up next to him before setting it in motion.
“Why do we always have to take my car?” Ianto mutters to himself, checking the CCTV one last time, before grabbing his coat and his keys and racing off to the car park.
He refuses to let Jack drive and Jack tries to give directions, frantically. It takes Ianto more than a few frustrated minutes to figure out where it is Jack thinks they’re headed.
Fortunately, at least one of them had been alive and paying attention on the last ride back to remember how to get there. Gwen’s backseat driving almost lands them in a ditch, but they make it back out to ‘Jubilee Fields’ in one piece.
The police cordon is still up, yellow ‘Caution’ tape shining in the glare of the headlights, ghostly flapping in the dark. They try to stop Ianto’s car until Jack leans out the door and yells, “Torchwood!”
“But- but you lot just went through,” a young constable stammers as Ianto drives on and Gwen pulls Jack back inside. Ianto’s car is compact and not built for off-road; they jostle over bumps and tree roots and slosh through mud.
Finally, spotting the SUV - left open and unattended - Ianto pulls up next to it. Jack leaps out before the car is even stopped. Gwen chases after Jack and Ianto checks the SUV. Everything looks intact. He grabs a torch and locks the SUV, then follows the others deeper into the woods.
The clearing is just the same, except for the visible patch of muddied grass and the broken tree limbs littered about. A violent wind whips Ianto’s coat around him and sends dirt and grit into his eyes. He forces his way through to where Jack and Gwen are standing, staring up and up.
Above them there is a light spot against the dark sky; neither visible nor completely invisible, the ship rises steadily higher and higher. Then there’s a bright flash, illuminating the night, and a second later a great boom and gust of air, throwing Ianto, Jack and Gwen off their feet and to the ground in a whoosh.
Ianto gets a mouthful of grass and mud and dead leaves. He rolls over and leans up on his elbows. Gwen is picking twigs and leaves from her hair.
“Damn.” Jack is the first to his feet, his hair standing wildly on end. He flips his wrist strap open and walks a few paces around the clearing. “Bastard stole my ship.”
Slowly, Ianto gets his feet under him, helping Gwen up as well, and his body is just far too young to be making these kinds of creaks and groans. He glances around them, suddenly remembering.
“The bodies.” Jack and Gwen turn to him. “They were still on the ship; we hadn’t organized transport back to the morgue yet.”
“Oh.” Jack considers this for a moment. “They’ll probably be recycled. John’s resourceful.”
Gwen is busily brushing dirt and leaves off of her jeans and jacket. “Recycled into wha-” She stops. “Oh. No, I don’t want to know.”
Jack quickly pats his pockets down, scowling. “He took the other Vortex Manipulator, too. I almost had it figured out,” he grumbles, heaving a big sigh.
“Well,” Ianto says, stepping up beside Jack, “he’s gone. Our friend the giant pink alien is gone-”
“Oh, God.” Gwen looks worried. “I hope Vic’s going to be OK.”
Jack laughs at that, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “I think it will be fine. Perfectly capable of handling itself.”
Gwen nods. “It did say it wanted to see the universe.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Jack asks, putting his other arm around Ianto and drawing him close. “I’d have taken you both out there and shown you the stars.”
“We can see the stars just fine from here, Jack.” Gwen points up, past the treetops into the sky. “See? And they’re just as lovely.”
“Us Welsh, see” Ianto says, sliding his arm around Jack’s back. “We like to keep our feet on the ground.”
Somewhere, some when, Jack is out there: flying, fighting, fucking and failing. He’s onboard the TARDIS, and lost on a new planet. Trapped in the past, and the future, about to die, waiting for the executioner, or the volcano to blow. Running for his life, running from his life, chasing after love or dreams or impossible fancies. All the things he hasn’t done yet, and will be doing forever.
Life is made up of moments, all happening simultaneously, scattered throughout time and space in bits and pieces with no end and no beginning. And right here. He’ll hold onto this for as long as he can.
Jack tightens his grip, hugging Gwen and Ianto closer to him. "So... who's going to inform UNIT that we let the ship get stolen?"
- The End is Where We Start From
originally posted: 04/17/09
part 7b
- I dreamt last night I saw you, a single spark explosion negotiating with the dead. By the bright lights in some ICU, on my chest you put your head and said, There you are, there you are, there's my heart.
- Matthew Good, A Single Explosion
In the stifling, crushing dark, there’s a tiny pinprick of light and a soft tug, a pull right at the center of his-
Jack opens his eyes slowly, the blurry grey of the ceiling coming into focus. Oxygen re-inflates his lungs, rushing along in his blood to his brain and toes and fingertips. Everything is all healed up again.
There’s a warm weight by his side; Jack turns his head and, with a low, cracked voice, whispers, “Hey.”
Ianto starts, snuffling into the crushed wool of Jack’s coat bunched up beneath his head, and stands up quickly, knocking the little metal chair back with a screech. He blinks a few times and looks right into Jack’s eyes. “Welcome back.”
“How long was I-” Jack tries to lift his arm, to push himself up from the table, and groans; the muscles in his back seize up, twitching.
Ianto leans toward him. “Here, let me.” Jack tries to reach his arm around Ianto as he bends, but it doesn’t seem to want to work properly. Ianto gently places it over his shoulder and wraps both of his arms around Jack’s waist as he helps him to sit up. His large hands are warm on Jack’s lower back; his breath is hot and smells like coffee and mint as he whispers in Jack’s ear, “You were… out the whole night. Good morning.”
The skin of Ianto’s cheek against his is burning in comparison and a shiver rumbles down Jack’s spine as he tries to wrap his other arm around Ianto’s neck to draw the warmth into himself. He leans forward, resting all his weight against Ianto’s chest, and feels Ianto shift between his legs, one of his warm arms leaving Jack’s back for a moment before he feels the weight of fabric draped over his shoulders.
Ianto pulls back and tucks Jack’s coat around him, running his hands up and down Jack’s arms. He reaches up and brushes his fingers over Jack’s forehead, feathery touches on the same spot after the first time he’d watched Jack die.
“Do you want-”
“Where’s-” Jack stops, smiles. “You first.”
“I just-”
“Jack!”
He looks over his shoulder to see Gwen nearly tripping over in her rush to get down the stairs, arms flailing to keep her balance. She stops just short of them until Ianto reaches his arm out and draws her in. Her chin fits right into the hollow between Jack’s neck and shoulder, the soft roundness of her breasts pressing against him. He curls one arm around her waist and tightens his hold on Ianto, leaning into him, firm and solid.
Jack blows Gwen’s hair away from his mouth with a little laugh. “Don’t tell me you guys were worried.”
She breathes into his neck, hot and damp, and pulls back far enough to look him in the eye. “Who, us? ‘Course not.” She grins up at him, but her eyes are tired and sunken. “Besides, we know you’ll do anything to get out of doing the cleanup.”
He looks between her and Ianto. “What happened to the-”
“Taken care of,” Ianto answers, quickly. “More or less. There’s an invisible spaceship full of bodies, though, that I thought I’d leave for you.”
“Oh, thanks. Just what I always wanted.” Jack pauses. “Actually…”
“He’s back with us then?” John’s voice behind him is low and almost melodic. He’s playing at being indifferent, but there’s always a tell. Jack turns his head just enough to glimpse John out of the corner of his eye. If he truly didn't care, he wouldn’t have said anything at all.
Ianto straightens in his arms, spine going rigid. He clears his throat, stepping out of Jack’s grasp. “I’ve held off calling UNIT for as long as possible, but perhaps now that you’re-”
“Oh, do we have to? Talking to them always gives me such a headache. Maybe if-”
“Coffee.” Ianto gives him a short nod, but raises an eyebrow at Gwen before he turns away and walks up the stairs with measured, deliberate steps.
Gwen laughs as Ianto passes. Her hand rubs gently up and down Jack’s forearm. “You’re cold,” she says softly.
Jack pinches the fabric of his torn shirt between two fingers to pluck it away from his skin. “And sticky.” The dried blood and sweat have crusted in the cotton. “I think a nice hot sponge bath would do the trick, Nurse Cooper.”
She grins, shaking her head and stepping away, stuffing her hands into her back pockets. “And I think I’d best wake Rhys.”
“Rhys is here?” But Gwen’s already halfway up the stairs. She glances back just once with a small smile on her face, before disappearing off into the hub, to her husband.
John walks slowly along the railing, staring down at Jack. “I used to say,” he starts, coming down the steps. “Right after you disappeared, I used to say, tell anyone I met, that if I ever saw you again I’d kill you.”
“Well,” Jack tilts his chin up, grinning. “I have to say, I’m impressed. Follow-through was never your strong suit.”
John’s eyelids flicker, but he doesn’t look away, doesn’t avoid Jack’s eyes. Neither Gwen nor Ianto would mention the fact that Jack smells after coming back to life, of blood and other… things. But, of course, tact was never one of John’s strong suits, either. He wrinkles his nose up at Jack as he comes closer and Jack glares back at him.
“What’s it like?” John asks, eyes darker than Jack remembers. “When you’re dead?”
Jack stares, tips his head back just a little. The air around him is beginning to feel cool now.
With a shrug, John finally looks away. “Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll find out soon enough.” He shuffles his feet, hands tucked into the pockets of his ridiculously tight trousers. The bandage is gone from his arm, revealing the mutilated flesh, burnt and sliced and scarred. Back in the old days, the future, that could have been fixed right up, good as new in no time.
“I didn’t recognize any of them,” Jack says, after a while. “But they knew me.”
John simply shrugs again and leans back against the autopsy table next to him. “Things change. That didn’t stop in your absence.” John laughs, a short huff of air out his nose. “You never could stay still for very long. You were always looking, reaching for something else. Something only you could see.” He looks sideways at Jack. “You won’t stay here forever.”
“Here won’t be forever.” Jack stands unsteadily and brushes past him. At the bottom of the stairs, he stops and half turns back. “It was never-”
“I understand now.”
Jack pauses. “Understand what?”
“Why you never let yourself love anyone.”
The chill is worse all of a sudden, like a draft has blown through the room, sweeping up Jack’s spine. He clutches at his coat, still draped over his shoulders like a cape. Out in the hub, he hears voices and the distant hiss of the coffeemaker. John’s eyes stare blankly ahead.
Ianto had once asked Jack if he’d ever loved anyone. Owen had believed, and had tried to fit himself into the callous mold of Jack Harkness and Torchwood. Gwen’s implied it in a roundabout sort of way, when a situation arises. They’d seen, at those times, what they’d needed to see in him.
Toshiko, even in her anger, had understood. Or so he’d thought. The dull ache in the pit of Jack’s stomach flares sharper for a moment. It must show on his face, because John pushes away from the table, sweeping a hand all around him and says, “It doesn’t get you anything in the end, does it?”
Studying John, Jack tries to remember the man he’d first met so very long ago. But it’s gone; he can’t get past that image he’s had of himself for over a century. Or longer. He can’t remember the people they were together, can’t remember how or why they’d stayed… partners.
Can’t remember if there was ever love between them.
Ianto’s shoes only make the tiniest of sounds on the floor, but Jack hears him anyway. It took a while, but he’s finally learned that trick. Ianto comes down the steps to stand beside him, holding his silver tray up, offering Jack his mug with a smile. Jack’s hands feel frozen as he cups them around the mug, brushing against Ianto’s fingers, looking up into Ianto’s bright…
… eyes so cleverly dark and always up to something, hair wild and curly, his legs wrap so tightly around Jack’s waist, he thinks they’ll never let…
… go to war together and change the universe. “It’ll be amazing! We’ll be heroes! We can’t just wait around for them to wipe us all out in wave after wave. Each year it gets worse! Your family! My dad and Gr-” The other boy surges forward, grabs him by the face and it’s their very first kiss. “OK. You know I’d follow you…
… anywhere, Jack. We could go absolutely anywhere. In years to come, we could be out there, dancing among the stars,” Estelle informs him, quite seriously, pointing up into the night sky. Her eyes and her pale skin shine in the moonlight reflected off the…
… water, frozen in hundred foot waves high above their heads. Jack catches Rose’s hand as she skates past him, laughing, and together they twirl in a big circle. She reaches back for the Doctor, pulling him along and he’s laughing that…
… deep, throaty laugh was what Jack noticed first, coming from the parlor. But the first time he sees her, he stops in his tracks. She is so beautiful, dark eyes and dark hair cascading…
… tears that he can no longer hold back, dripping down his face to stain the boy’s already blood soaked uniform, squeezing the slackening grip in his…
… hand wrenched away; he imagines he can remember the feeling of loss in that moment, but he’ll never be sure if it was real or just something he made up in his head. Nerveless fingers fumble open his Vortex Manipulator, ready to leave this place like all the others. Gray’s still out there somewhere; he’ll keep looking, won’t stop until he…
… finds someone to replace him. Jack’s not meant to be here; Torchwood is not his life and damn Alex for doing this to him. Damn Alex for making him feel like he belonged, making him want to stay here for…
… Ianto offers him a little smile and Jack releases his fingers.
After a moment, Ianto crosses the room and offers the other cup on the tray to John. “It’s tea,” he says when John does nothing. “No sugar.”
John takes the cup with a smirk, not missing the opportunity to runs his fingers over the back of Ianto’s knuckles. Ianto pulls his hand back, rolling his eyes.
Jack touches his elbow, saying, “Come on,” guiding him back to the steps. “I need to clean up.” He lets Ianto go on ahead of him, before turning back to John. “Don’t find out too soon, eh?”
John holds his gaze, brow creasing, before turning away.
Walking through the hub on his way to his office, Jack stops short.
Gwen is sitting on the arm of the sofa, feet up on the seat, bringing her at about eye level with the alien sitting on the other end. Its head looks bizarrely small and bald, reflecting the low lights of the hub whenever it moves, and it’s wearing… bed sheets wrapped around it like a toga. They appear to be trying to hold a conversation. Gwen’s got that wide-eyed, lost little girl expression on her face, but she’s smiling. She’s even laughing.
She catches Jack’s eyes and turns to him, “We’re calling him- it Vic.”
The alien looks up at him, small, round eyes like two dark onyx stones. “Snchoghjjinnhwfwlvicvicvic,” it says.
The communicator crackles a bit. Ianto passes closely by Jack, whispering, “We’ve got to do something about its communicator thingy making it sound like you. It’s disturbing on many levels.”
Jack narrows his eyes as Ianto swiftly walks away. His voice sounds nothing like that, at all. He claps his hands together. “Right. Vic it is.” Glancing around the hub, Jack asks, “Aren’t we missing someone?”
Gwen sighs, exaggeratedly. “Rhys had to go to work.” She sounds mildly amused.
Jack grins. “Saving the world one shipment at a time. OK, kids, I need to… clean up, so don’t break anything while I’m-"
“Nhoossi,” the alien, Vic, says, stopping Jack in his tracks. The next words are in a language Jack’s nearly forgotten that he ever knew. But the meaning is clear: You have far to go; your journey is not yet ended.
- Sun shines in the rusty morning, skyline of the Olympus Mons; I think about it sometimes. Sun shines in the rusty morning, once I had a good fly.
- The Pixies, Bird Dream of The Olympus Mons
“So… does it count as a date if all we’ve done is sneak away from the hub for lunch?”
“Yes.”
“But the first one got interrupted by a weevil.”
“Still counts.”
“And last time was just dinner; we didn’t even make it out of your flat.”
“You cooked; I’m counting it.”
“Alright.” Jack mock sighs, throwing his hands up in the air as though in surrender. Ianto smiles and that’s all that counts. Jack taps his foot at the leg of his chair, grinning to himself at the blissful look on Ianto’s face as he takes a sip of his coffee. His eyes are closed and his cheeks are slightly flushed, hair still damp from running through the rain, and Jack would like to freeze this moment. After a year of… not having this, it feels so good to be back, to bask in the little things, like before.
“You keep saying that.”
He looks up, worried that he’s been thinking aloud again, and now Ianto is watching him. “Hm?”
Ianto rolls his eyes and ducks his head a little, setting his coffee cup down onto the table between them. The dissonant noise of the café around them is muffled by the glass partition separating their table from the rest, and the rain patters against the windowpane, racing down in shining streaks.
“Before. You… well, you’ve mentioned it a few times, how it was before,” Ianto continues, looking at him with sharp eyes. “Before you left, you mean? Jack, I’m not sure where you went or what happened-”
“It’s not-”
“And I’m not asking. It’s just that… well, we weren’t like this. Before. You and I, Jack. We were…” Ianto gazes up toward the ceiling then back down into Jack’s eyes, a soft smile curving just the corner of his mouth. “We were something, I suppose, but it’s different now. I’m different. You’re very different. But sometimes I get the feeling you’ve been missing something that didn’t exist.”
“I-” But Jack can’t quite think of what he means. Months aboard the Valiant spent mostly in isolation, save mealtimes and those few occasions when the Ma- And Jack’s thoughts had been all over the place, dreaming of sunlight and sand and sea and life. A life, his life, any life. He’d forgotten simple things like the taste of curry and the sound of Toshiko’s laughter. He’d craved silly, mundane things like cold, day old pizza and beer like they were the best meal he could ever have.
Had he remembered things that had never happened? He’d had vivid, waking dreams that he knows weren’t real and yet can still feel as viscerally as the knives that had sliced through him.
“Jack?”
“I don’t want to-”
“I don’t need to know every little thing about you, Jack. I’m not saying I don’t like listening. Not saying that I’m not interested. I like hearing about your life. Anything you want to tell me. Even the hard stuff. Even the scary bits.”
And Jack knows that Ianto isn’t talking about the monsters he’s faced.
“So, whatever you think this-” Ianto bites his lip, color creeping up from beneath his collar. “Anything you ever want to say, I’m… anything, whatever, Jack. Just clue me in occasionally, yeah?”
The rain is still pouring down, but the sun breaks through the clouds, casting shadows of tiny droplets from the window across the surface of the table and Ianto’s hands and face. He appears bright yet marred, only for that moment. Jack grins at him, nods his head. Memories and wishes so easily meld together.
“Jack? Sorry to interrupt your lunch-”
Startled, Jack quickly taps his earpiece. “Yeah, Tosh, what is it?”
“Small rift spike not far from you. It’s an object, maybe the size of a breadbox, and registering low meson energy signals. If you’re busy, Owen and I could-”
“Nah, Tosh, with Gwen still on holiday we need you to man the hub. I’ll get it, and I’m sending Ianto back with some of these pastries for you.”
Ianto raises an eyebrow at that and Jack signals for the bill. Ianto stands, walking around the table and lifting Jack’s coat from the back of his chair. “Go, I’ll take care of this,” he says, gesturing to Jack with the coat.
“But I’m-”
“Rift crisis, saving the world, etcetera, etcetera. Honestly, Jack, which is more important here?” Ianto shakes the coat at him again and Jack turns, sliding his arms into the sleeves and allowing Ianto to settle the weight carefully onto his shoulders.
Before he steps away, Jack reaches up and cups Ianto’s face to kiss him quickly on the lips.
- I could smell your skin beside me and say I hope I'm here forever. Oh but, Captain, with your lovers… they will flame up and you won’t know that you are burning.
- Okkervil River, For the Captain
It’s a while before the water runs clear, washing away all the blood from Jack’s skin.
He feels Ianto’s presence behind him in his shower room before Ianto’s hand touches his shoulder. Jack turns, blinking water and soap out of his eyes, reaches out to run his own hand down Ianto’s bare chest, grabs hold of his hip and pulls him in. There’s a wet slapping sound of skin as Ianto stumbles and falls against him. The water from the low showerhead sprays over Jack’s shoulder, trickling slick between their bodies. Ianto grips Jack’s arms, sliding up to his neck, cupping his face and holding him there. Ianto’s mouth, wet and warm, still tastes of coffee and mint. And salt.
Jack slides his arms around Ianto’s waist. He spares a single thought for Gwen, out in the hub, left to deal with John and an alien all on her own. But she’s capable. She’s fiery and strong, and Ianto is here and hard against him, shivering and in need of something.
Ianto pushes against him, turns them into the spray and Jack snuffs water up his nose, spluttering. But Ianto’s hand on the back of his head, fingers twisting in his hair, draws him in again and Jack doesn’t really need to breathe so much anyway. Ianto’s other hand slips across Jack’s back, fingers digging into the flesh.
A good thing about being of a near equal height - everything matches up just perfectly. Ianto makes a tiny sound, not quite a moan or a sob, into Jack’s mouth before pulling his lips away.
“Come on,” Jack whispers in his ear and Ianto’s whole body shudders, rushing up and spilling out over Jack’s belly and hip.
Ianto pushes his face between Jack’s neck and shoulder. He cries silently. Elegant and understated. Jack wraps his arms tight around him and they sort of sway there for a moment. Ianto leans heavily against him as he turns them into the spray, washing them clean again.
Ianto’s hands fall to Jack’s hips and one slides around to his arse as the other palms over his cock, though he’s still soft. Jack just pulls Ianto’s arms back around his waist, bringing their bodies even closer. Into his neck, Ianto mumbles, “I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”
“Hey. I’ve been taking care of myself for years. Long before I met you.”
Laying his head down on Jack’s shoulder again, Ianto sighs. “And you will long after…”
Jack kisses his forehead, running his hands up Ianto’s back and into his hair, letting the wet strands stick to his fingers. “You need a haircut.”
“Who’s got the time?” Ianto’s laugh is a hot breath against Jack’s neck.
Leaning back, Jack winces against the cold tiles of the shower wall, pulling Ianto with him. Time. “We should get back.”
Ianto’s arms tighten around Jack’s waist. “Just stay for a bit.”
---
Threading the silk tie through his collar, Ianto stares at his reflection in the mirror. No doubt the others have taken note of their absence. He should be horribly embarrassed by this, but he’s not at all. And Jack is just grinning at him as he disappears up the ladder to his office. That wide, happy, Jack grin. Carefree. Alive.
It will just keep happening to Jack, over and over. Forever. And Ianto is a selfish bastard because he’s only happy that Jack is alive and will always be alive, no matter what.
He finds Jack and Gwen standing around the workbench on the mid-level of the hub, staring at the Weevil Magnet. It’s giving off a pale bluish glow.
“It works?”
Jack turns around with a croissanwich stuffed in his mouth and Gwen points into the conference room, saying, “I ordered food. Got your favorite.” She grins at him and Ianto nods his thanks.
“I didn’t think this place did delivery.”
“They do when I call,” Gwen tells him.
Jack takes a bite, gesturing to the workbench, and starts talking with his mouth full. “It was probably working until we dropped it. And then you must have kick-started it when you, uh, kicked it.”
Gwen frowns. “You kicked it?”
“I didn’t kick it. I… tripped over it. It was his fault.” Ianto points at Jack.
“Don’t worry,” Jack says. “It wasn’t doing anything. Other than blocking our equipment,” he concedes with a faint smile. “It wasn’t burnt out, exactly, but it was… I think it used the rift energy to recharge. Like a battery.”
Gwen folds her arms over her chest, looking perturbed. “I just can’t believe that all of that happened by coincidence. It makes no sense.”
“What do you mean?” Ianto asks, stepping up beside them.
“There’s no denying the randomness of the universe.” Jack laughs, softly. “This is just my theory, but I think the Weevil Magnet came through, just like anything, and latched onto the largest source of energy, namely the rift. Blew it wide open, soaking up as much energy as possible while blocking our equipment. The Schn- er, High Watcher, Vic, didn’t mean to come here, but was sucked through following the energy pattern-”
Gwen shakes her head. “But John said it ended up here because of you.”
“John’s a big fat liar who makes stuff up all the time,” Jack answers, instantly. “Those rogue Agents were hired by… Oh, I don’t know… Vic’s own people, probably - they like to keep to their own little corner of the universe, where they’re the big guns - to come after it. They followed Vic through the Rift and… here we are. Gwen, you said it was fleeing something, right?”
“Well, I don’t think its communicator is working properly - it seems to be… missing words or translations to English. But that’s why it sounds like you; it picked up your voice pattern first.”
“It doesn’t sound-”
“But,” Gwen continues over him, “it mentioned something about… everything going dark or… disappearing. Something. It said one of their planets just vanished, like maybe it imploded?” she half asks, looking up at Jack and then shrugs. “And it said it escaped before… whatever or whoever could get it, too.”
“Perhaps,” Ianto suggests, “they were looking for it because of the advanced technology its people has?”
“Possibly.” Jack considers it for a moment. “Although, why they’d go for that one, I’m not sure. It’s clearly an escaped criminal, with the shoddy job on the communicator; it was probably not even allowed off planet.”
Gwen chews her lip. “But John said-”
“Lying liar who lies, remember. It may have taken me a bit longer, but I can figure stuff out, too. I still don’t think it’s dangerous to us. It’s not the most advanced of its species. They do some amazing things in the future with technology before they end up destroying themselves.”
“They what?”
“Oh yeah. Intelligence and common sense don’t always go hand in hand. In a few thousand years they create this super computer that wipes out their entire species. Fortunately, the technology and the knowledge of how to build it die with them before anyone else in the universe can replicate it. Judging by the tech this one has, it’s from not too far in the future, less than a century. Earth century,” Jack clarifies. “On its planet, it would probably be the equivalent of the 1300s on Earth.”
“OK.” Gwen nods, not like it’s OK at all. “So, what do we do with it?”
“No idea.”
Ianto looks around. “Where are…”
“They’re down in John’s room,” Gwen says, offhand.
“Doing what?”
Jack waggles his eyebrows, grinning, as he passes. Ianto looks to Gwen and she shrugs. Shaking his head, Ianto mutters, “It doesn’t have a mouth.”
---
Up in the tourist office, Ianto idly shuffles a few brochures as he’s put on hold for a third time. He sighs, looking about - noting the peeling paint and shabby fixtures, the clutter and general disarray designed to be uninviting - and wonders if he should even bother opening up today. He vaguely begins to recognize the tinny muzak playing in his ear, and now he’s going to have that song stuck in his head all day. Jack never gets put on hold.
There’s a series of clicks and then… “Ianto, what’s this I hear about a spaceship landing in Cardiff?”
“Dr. Jones. You sound busy, thank you for taking my call.”
Martha sighs dramatically in his ear. “Just tell me he’s alright.”
---
As Ianto makes his way through the hub to Jack’s office, he bumps into Gwen. “Oh, I’ve got something for you.” He pulls a slip of paper from his pocket and hands it to her. “The direct line through UNIT. No more waiting.”
“Oh, bless you. If I hear one more bloody note of ‘Greensleeves’, I’ll snap.”
“You can thank Martha personally in a bit; I’m about to get her on the line with Jack. Where are our… guests?”
“John is with Jack in his office and, apparently, Vic’s species take in nutrients through the skin, so it’s in the hothouse soaking it up with the plants.”
Ianto nods and starts on his way, but stops abruptly, turning back to her. “You saw him naked? It, I mean.”
“I know, it’s still weird. But, believe you me, ‘it’ is the only thing that fits. It doesn’t have any…” Gwen gestures down to her lower half, “anything. And, yes. Very, very naked.”
“Wonder how they reproduce.”
“Dunno.” Gwen shrugs. “I hope it’s not like gremlins where you just throw water on them, because it’s been up there for a while and the sprinklers have come on at least twice.”
Ianto’s eyes flick up toward the hothouse and Gwen laughs at him. He aims his ‘stern face’ at her as she hurries to her desk, before rushing off to Jack’s office himself. As he pauses in the doorway, John is saying something in that language again and Jack laughs out loud, throwing his head back. He looks up and, seeing Ianto there, waves him in.
Ianto glances between them. “What’s funny?”
Still sort of chuckling, Jack wipes at his eyes. “Just reminiscing and telling old jokes. It doesn’t really translate into English very well. Or, well, being stuck here, my language skills got a bit rusty, I guess.”
John, sitting on the opposite edge of Jack’s desk, uncrosses his legs and stands up. “It’s your basic ‘a rabbi, a priest and a duck walk into a bar’ joke. Just replace priest with Time Agent and duck with… eh, this thing that has six legs, five eyes, and a lot of mucus and it’s pretty much the same thing.”
“Sure.” Ianto nods, slowly, then lifts his eyebrows. “Jack, if you’ve got a moment?”
“Yeah,” Jack says, looking pointedly at John.
“Whatever.” He saunters out of the room, throwing one last smirk in Ianto’s direction.
Closing the door, Ianto quickly explains his secret ongoing dealings with Dr. Connelly, hoping Jack won’t be upset about this. “She refuses to give up the hospital. So, we made a deal. She’s ours. We’ve set up emergency protocols with the hospital. It’s a bit like what Owen had going only… better. She’s senior staff now. At first, she didn’t want the promotion without earning it, but it’s the only way we could be sure that she would have the authority to oversee all Torchwood business.”
Pursing his lips, Jack says, “This is… this is great. But…”
“But it means we still need a field medic and probably another expert in alien biology. Which is where this comes in. Dr. Jones-”
“Ianto, I told you. I don’t want-”
“Jack. Martha is a soldier. You didn’t do that to her. Besides, she said she’s far too busy with UNIT at the moment and some special projects, but she can provide us with a few people on temporary loan that will rotate on a monthly basis. If you approve, that is. She’s on the line for you.”
Jack stares at him for a moment, then rolls his eyes, sighing, “Alright,” and picks up the phone. “Martha Jones! I’m still waiting on that UNIT cap.”
With a tiny shake of his head, Ianto backs out of the office trying not to laugh. He pauses, looking over at Gwen, but she’s on the phone as well, so he walks over to the kitchen to make some coffee. Glancing around, he notices shadows up in the hothouse and, again, has to wonder what John and an alien that apparently has no sex organs could possibly be doing.
He’s just setting the mugs out on the tray when there’s a holler from Jack’s office. It sounds rather like, “Ya-haa!”
Jack comes bounding out, grinning madly. “Ianto! I hope you’ve still got your dancing shoes. Guess what?”
Stopping next to Gwen’s desk, Ianto sets the tray down and hands her a mug. “Martha’s engaged.”
Gwen sits up straighter, smile widening. “What? Is she still on the line?” She fumbles for her phone again and Jack tells her to hit line one.
As Gwen babbles happily at Martha, Jack grabs Ianto from behind, spinning him around. In the small space, Ianto trips, but Jack catches him by the elbow and takes his hand. Jack quickly taps a sequence on his wrist strap and slides his other arm around Ianto’s waist to pull him close as soft music fills the hub.
“So,” Jack says, smiling, “I managed to wrangle an invitation to the wedding, but I need a date.”
“Oh, well I’m sure you’ll find someone. Having already been invited, I’ll be looking for my own date, as well.” Jack bares his teeth and growls. Then he tries some tricky dance-step, sweeping them both around and Ianto stumbles, almost losing his balance completely. “Hey, let’s not get fancy.”
“It’s Martha’s sister Tish that can’t wait to meet you.” Jack says quietly into Ianto’s ear, “She… looked after me while I was gone.”
Jack had, after a time, given him what Ianto calls the ‘Cliffs Notes’ version of his time away (and what Ianto believes was really just the blurb on the book jacket). The gist being that Jack was not happy and it was not fun. So, if someone had somehow made it more bearable for Jack, then Ianto is not going to pass up the chance to thank her in person.
Ianto has to keep glancing down at his feet when Jack tries more moves. “Gwen, help me out here,” he complains, pushing away from Jack and pulling Gwen forward. He places her hand in Jack’s and steps away.
She laughs as Jack twirls her around. And Gwen’s not actually all that graceful, either. Or all that adept at following someone else’s lead, but at least she’s small, so that Jack can lift her when she accidentally treads on his toes.
Above them, John steps out of the door from the hothouse and leans over the railing to watch. When Ianto looks up, John stares down at him, his face expressionless.
---
Ianto waits patiently for the sound of shots to stop echoing before he enters the firing range. Jack must hear the door open, because he turns to Ianto, removing his ear defenders and goggles. Rolling his shoulders, Jack says, “I feel a little better now.”
“Good to hear.” Ianto smiles at him, before reporting the news. “The UNIT team will arrive tomorrow morning at 05:00 to transport the ship.”
Jack frowns, snapping the spent clip out of his gun, and begins cleaning up. “In the morning? Why can’t they do it tonight? You know, under the cover of darkness. Sure the ship isn’t that big, but I think people will notice they aren’t towing a Volkswagen.”
“I was all set to do the standard cover story: new BBC television prop - but they actually have a better way.”
“Oh?”
Ianto waits until Jack looks up. “They’ve got a cloaking device.”
At that, Jack stops. “Do they? I thought we were all about sharing information these days,” he mutters, wiping the weapons down and placing each in their individual cases. “They do know that the ship is already cloaked, right? It’s practically invisible, but it’s still going to look conspicuous hauling a big, wobbly empty space on a flatbed truck along the M4 surrounded by military vehicles.”
“More of a perception filter then, I guess, than a cloaking device. Supposedly, it projects whatever image they program it to. So anyone who sees the convoy would perceive it as… I don’t know, a traveling circus or something.”
They both grimace at the memories that that mental image conjures up. Jack snaps the last case shut and stands up straight, facing Ianto. “You know,” he says, leaning back against the wall. “We could take it. I could take you out there and show you things you’ve never dreamed of.”
“Perhaps now is the time to mention I have a slight fear of flying and the thought of being out in space with no air makes me panic a bit. Besides, the ship is busted. I’m not zipping around the universe with you rigged up as the power source. That’s just a little outside my comfort zone.”
Jack grins, looking down at his shoes. “I might have come up with a way around that, actually.”
“Oh, really?”
“Well, was talking with John earlier about the,” Jack gestures vaguely, “Weevil Magnet. If the ship has the right sort of adapters, it could power the engines for… Years, probably.”
Ianto nods, slowly. “You miss it? Being out there?”
“It’s a helluva lot of fun.” Jack pushes away from the wall and walks over to Ianto, slipping one arm around his waist. “I have lifetimes ahead of me to spend out there. Right here, right now, though...”
Looking over Jack’s should, Ianto tries not to smile. “And Captain Hart-”
“Do we have to keep calling him that? He’s just mocking me.”
“What else should we call him?” He meets Jack’s eye. “Do you even remember his real name?”
Jack shrugs. “Can’t you think up something really insulting, but in that subtle and clever Ianto way?”
Laughing slightly, Ianto asks, “Is it wrong that I sort of want to kill him and kiss him at the same time?”
“Well that’s- Did you say kiss him?”
“For saving our arses. And you.”
“I thought you hated him.”
“I don’t-” Ianto rolls his eyes and shrugs. “I just want to shoot him sometimes.”
“He has that effect on a lot of people.” Somehow, Ianto’s hands have found their way to Jack’s shoulders and both of Jack’s hands are on his hips, and they’re nearly dancing again.
“He’s been…” Ianto forces the words out, “Useful, I suppose.”
“You trust him now?”
“No. I don’t trust him and I don’t like him, but… He fixed the rift predictor, he’s good with alien tech, he seems to recall more than… you and he actually used the rift manipulator to manipulate the rift. Not that that was a good thing, just that he’s the only person I’ve known to use it properly. His skills could come in handy, Jack. And he actually listens to you. For the most part.”
“I may be a bit sluggish from recent death and all, but you’re not honestly suggesting we hire him, are you?”
“It would solve at least one problem.”
“And create about ten more.” Jack’s hand moves around Ianto’s hip to rest just in the dip at the bottom of his spine, not quite over his arse. “Besides, I don’t expect he’ll want to stick around for very long.”
“Probably not. What with all of your stories about all the amazing things out there.”
“You know… I do tend to embellish just a bit.”
“Noooo, really?”
Jack leans in, pulling Ianto against him, and nips at the very tip of Ianto’s turned up nose. “Do you need any firing practice? I thought maybe we could work on your form.” Jack leans back, frowning. “What? Ianto Jones, I know that look on your face. What is it?”
“D’you know… I think he is actually in love with you.” Jack looks surprised and Ianto laughs, self-consciously, looking away. “Never mind.”
“Ianto.” But he can’t look up yet. “Ianto,” Jack says again, raising his fingers to Ianto’s chin and tipping his face until they are eye to eye.
“You haven’t forgotten him. After all these years.”
“No.” Jack shakes his head. “There are people in your life that you never forget.” He bends forward again, resting his forehead against Ianto’s. “I may not remember everything, not accurately. Not forever.”
Nodding, their heads sort of bumping together, Ianto cups Jack’s face and kisses him.
“Jack? Ianto? You down there?” Gwen’s voice over the intercom echoes through the cavernous, abandoned tunnel.
They pull apart and Jack reaches up to tap his ear. “Gwen- Damn, I left my-”
“I’ve got mine,” Ianto says. “Gwen, we’re here. What is it?”
“John’s gone.”
They exchange a look before bolting for the door. Bypassing the lift, they go straight up the stairs, barreling out into the hub to find Gwen at the tech computer searching the CCTV.
“The SUV’s gone, too,” she reports, without even turning to look at them.
Jack stops in the middle of the room, feet planted apart with his hands on his hips. “Where’s Vic?” he asks, as though he already knows the answer.
Gwen glances around, furtively, but Ianto notices something else. “Look.” He points to the empty workbench. “The Weevil Magnet is gone, too.”
“No. No, no, no, I’m going to kill him!” Jack barks, clenching his fists. “Gwen, weapons! Come with me.” Jack hurries for his coat and his holster, checking his revolver as he goes. “Ianto, go get your car and meet us on the Plass.” Jack’s up on the invisible lift, barely waiting for Gwen to hop up next to him before setting it in motion.
“Why do we always have to take my car?” Ianto mutters to himself, checking the CCTV one last time, before grabbing his coat and his keys and racing off to the car park.
He refuses to let Jack drive and Jack tries to give directions, frantically. It takes Ianto more than a few frustrated minutes to figure out where it is Jack thinks they’re headed.
Fortunately, at least one of them had been alive and paying attention on the last ride back to remember how to get there. Gwen’s backseat driving almost lands them in a ditch, but they make it back out to ‘Jubilee Fields’ in one piece.
The police cordon is still up, yellow ‘Caution’ tape shining in the glare of the headlights, ghostly flapping in the dark. They try to stop Ianto’s car until Jack leans out the door and yells, “Torchwood!”
“But- but you lot just went through,” a young constable stammers as Ianto drives on and Gwen pulls Jack back inside. Ianto’s car is compact and not built for off-road; they jostle over bumps and tree roots and slosh through mud.
Finally, spotting the SUV - left open and unattended - Ianto pulls up next to it. Jack leaps out before the car is even stopped. Gwen chases after Jack and Ianto checks the SUV. Everything looks intact. He grabs a torch and locks the SUV, then follows the others deeper into the woods.
The clearing is just the same, except for the visible patch of muddied grass and the broken tree limbs littered about. A violent wind whips Ianto’s coat around him and sends dirt and grit into his eyes. He forces his way through to where Jack and Gwen are standing, staring up and up.
Above them there is a light spot against the dark sky; neither visible nor completely invisible, the ship rises steadily higher and higher. Then there’s a bright flash, illuminating the night, and a second later a great boom and gust of air, throwing Ianto, Jack and Gwen off their feet and to the ground in a whoosh.
Ianto gets a mouthful of grass and mud and dead leaves. He rolls over and leans up on his elbows. Gwen is picking twigs and leaves from her hair.
“Damn.” Jack is the first to his feet, his hair standing wildly on end. He flips his wrist strap open and walks a few paces around the clearing. “Bastard stole my ship.”
Slowly, Ianto gets his feet under him, helping Gwen up as well, and his body is just far too young to be making these kinds of creaks and groans. He glances around them, suddenly remembering.
“The bodies.” Jack and Gwen turn to him. “They were still on the ship; we hadn’t organized transport back to the morgue yet.”
“Oh.” Jack considers this for a moment. “They’ll probably be recycled. John’s resourceful.”
Gwen is busily brushing dirt and leaves off of her jeans and jacket. “Recycled into wha-” She stops. “Oh. No, I don’t want to know.”
Jack quickly pats his pockets down, scowling. “He took the other Vortex Manipulator, too. I almost had it figured out,” he grumbles, heaving a big sigh.
“Well,” Ianto says, stepping up beside Jack, “he’s gone. Our friend the giant pink alien is gone-”
“Oh, God.” Gwen looks worried. “I hope Vic’s going to be OK.”
Jack laughs at that, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “I think it will be fine. Perfectly capable of handling itself.”
Gwen nods. “It did say it wanted to see the universe.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Jack asks, putting his other arm around Ianto and drawing him close. “I’d have taken you both out there and shown you the stars.”
“We can see the stars just fine from here, Jack.” Gwen points up, past the treetops into the sky. “See? And they’re just as lovely.”
“Us Welsh, see” Ianto says, sliding his arm around Jack’s back. “We like to keep our feet on the ground.”
Somewhere, some when, Jack is out there: flying, fighting, fucking and failing. He’s onboard the TARDIS, and lost on a new planet. Trapped in the past, and the future, about to die, waiting for the executioner, or the volcano to blow. Running for his life, running from his life, chasing after love or dreams or impossible fancies. All the things he hasn’t done yet, and will be doing forever.
Life is made up of moments, all happening simultaneously, scattered throughout time and space in bits and pieces with no end and no beginning. And right here. He’ll hold onto this for as long as he can.
Jack tightens his grip, hugging Gwen and Ianto closer to him. "So... who's going to inform UNIT that we let the ship get stolen?"
- The End is Where We Start From
originally posted: 04/17/09