New Year's at the Palace - Day 3 (of 3) - The End
After a particularly rousing bout of shower sex during which Ianto was, predictably, unable to remember his name or the reason he and Jack had found themselves at the (rather charming and oh dear god do that again!) hotel, Ianto was forced to take yet another shower. He refused Jack entry to this one, however, claiming that mere mortals such as him only had so much staying power. Which, of course, led to Jack's predictable pouting. Standing there, warm water flowing over him, staring at Jack's now come-covered torso, Ianto came to a realization. It was quite possible that he loved Jack. Of course, Ianto'd never say it aloud. He'd managed to whisper it in his head and quickly denounced that little mental voice as completely and utterly insane, but damn if he couldn't forget about it. That, of course, led to thoughts about Lisa and how easily he'd been able to tell her he'd loved her. No, wait, 'love', current tense. Not past tense, never past tense. But still....she'd want him to be happy right? And that man, that damn out-of-time man with the perfect hair and great ass and the ability to make Ianto's worst day just a bit brighter.....Damn that man, but it was entirely possible that there was just a tiny little bit of love for him, somewhere deep inside. This shook Ianto to his core, but Ianto Jones was nothing if not perfectly capable of maintaining a calm exterior in times of crisis. And this was definitely crisis time.
And so, in order to have just a few moments to catch his breath and convince that annoyingly nagging (and usually correct, more often than not) voice in the back of his mind to shut the hell up and leave him alone, Ianto threatened Jack in the worst possible way. If Jack didn't leave right then and there and let Ianto have a few minutes alone, he'd be sleeping in his bed alone for the next month. Jack countered the threat, saying he'd simply have Ianto on his office desk. Ianto merely raised an eyebrow and said, “Get out now, or there will be no sex, blow jobs, hand jobs, or anything else involving your cock for the next month. Mine, however, might get plenty of action around Cardiff.” The steely hint in his eyes was enough to frighten the Captain, who left, tail between his legs (and Ianto laughed at that, imagining Jack with his cock between his legs, which, again predictably, led to Ianto's own cock inflating. Damn quick recovery time. Owen must have switched his vitamins with Viagra again) without looking back. Ianto looked down forlornly and decided to handle this problem on his own. If he called Jack back, he'd never hear the end of it.
So, after yet another rather rousing bit in the shower (Ianto was nothing if not extremely competent and attentive in every area of his life), Ianto emerged to see Jack, dressed and waiting, a pile of used wet naps from the room service breakfast at his feet.
Ianto rolled his eyes. He was on vacation; he refused to pick up the wet naps. More than that, he refused to let Jack see him pick up the wet naps. That would involve him bending over and exposing himself. And Jack hadn't earned that. At least, not yet. Ianto still had something to ask Jack, something important, and, at the moment, he wasn't above using every available lure to get his way. He hadn't used sex against Jack since Lisa (and didn't that just bring up bad connotations), but this was far more important than him own embarrassment at acting like a £10 whore.
Drying himself on the high-quality towel, Ianto began his slow seduction of Jack by slowly dressing, making sure to caress each piece of clothing. As the son of a master tailor, Ianto knew the sexual quality of dressing. A bit like the early twenty century, he mused, chuckling as Jack moaned when Ianto ran his hands down his trouser's front to smooth away any creases. Leave it all to the imagination, and Jack certainly had imagination enough for the both of them.
Ianto moved to button his dark plum shirt, but left the top two buttons open, exposing just a hint of pale Welsh neck. He knew what Jack was thinking as the other man's eyes bulged. Jack's hidden fantasy was ripping Ianto's ties from his neck, exposing, caressing, licking, and marking that area that no one but him ever saw. Ianto caressed his own throat, running his fingertips over the hollow of his clavicle as he searched his overnight bag.
“Ha!” he exclaimed, pulling something dark from the bag.
“What's that?” Jack asked, entranced as Ianto sauntered closer.
“Found this the other night. Almost forgot I had it,” Ianto purred seductively, holding out the twisted rope necklace he'd worn the first night they met over the body of a weevil. “Put it on me?”
Jack swallowed as he rose from the bed. Softly, oh so softly, he moved behind Ianto. He took the necklace from Ianto's hand and wrapped it around Ianto's neck. He ran one hand through the short, soft hair at the base of Ianto's skull, breathing deeply Ianto's scent - musk, soap, and just a hint of lemon. Ianto moaned, pushing himself backwards into Jack and arching his neck.
Jack couldn't resist. Ianto, his Ianto, who knew what this particular kink did to him, pushing himself against Jack. Jack ground his hips against Ianto, running one hand around his chest, fingering the necklace.
“God, I love this neck,” he muttered in Ianto's ear. “You have no idea what the sight of your neck does to met. All I want to do all day long is tear that damn silk tie from your neck and mark that little spot right there,” he said, rubbing one finger against Ianto's hollow.
Ianto turned in his arms, nuzzling Jack's neck.
“Jack,” he said, nipping at Jack's ear and cupping Jack's balls through the trouser fabric. “I need to have a serious conversation with you. Can we hold off on the marking for a little while?”
“Damn Ianto....Can't...” Jack gasped as he arched his groin into Ianto's hand. “How do you do this to me?”
Ianto pulled back with a feral grin.“Practice. Hours and hours of practice.”
“We don't have much time left before we have to leave. How about we get some of that practice time in now, huh?” Jack asked, pushing Ianto towards the bed and capturing his mouth in a hungry kiss.
Ianto stepped swiftly away, spinning Jack around. “No,” he said firmly.
Jack flopped down on the bed and covered his face with an arm.
“Seriously,” he asked flabbergasted. “We're in a hotel room, alone for the last time in who knows how long, and you want to 'talk'?”
“Yep,” Ianto said, moving to stand between Jack's legs. “Serious face, Jack. See it? Serious face, serious talk,” he added, moving Jack's hand and pointing to his own face.
Jack huffed. Clearly he'd be going without Ianto for a while longer. “Fine. What could be so important?”
“Owen,” Ianto said simply.
Jack groaned. “I thought you were going to talk to him. You know I'm not good at the touchy-feely stuff!”
Ianto rolled his eyes. “And I am? Since when have I been 'touchy feely'? Besides, seems like you did fine with the touching and feeling a little while ago.”
Jack sat up and pulled Ianto down so that he was sitting on Jack's lap. “If I thought, for one moment, that touching and feeling Owen would help, I'd be all over it.”
“I know,” Ianto soothed. “You're a very caring boss.” He ran butterfly kisses over Jack's face. “But there are some things that sex won't fix.”
“Don't I know it,” Jack grumbled. “Can we get on with this? We have,” he said, looking at the wall clock, “fifty five minutes. Lots we can do in fifty five minutes.”
“Lots we can do in five minutes,” Ianto agreed. “But this first. Then maybe I'll let you drive us home and see how long you're able to go with my hand on your crotch without stopping at a petrol station to relieve the pressure.”
Jack's face perked up. Ianto, with his hand on Jack's crotch, while Owen was in the back seat. This could definitely get interesting. “Just what did you want to talk about?” he leered. “Or should we begin the touchy-feely now?”
“Why didn't you cremate Katie?”
Jack reeled back in shock. If it had been any other question, he'd have been prepared. But Jack Harkness, interstellar con-man, the man who could take Daleks in stride, was stunned into silenxe.
Ianto winced as he felt Jack's burgeoning erection wither. He knew what to expect, but still. An erection was an erection, after all, and it did make him feel good to know that he caused it just by sitting on Jack's lap.
“Jack?” Ianto asked slowly. “Why didn't you cremate Katie?”
Jack stood so fast, Ianto wound up staring up at him from the floor.
“Torchwood protocols, Ianto! You know that! All deceased cases go to the morgue!” Jack yelled, running a hand through his hair. It was one of his few tells, but Ianto could read it for the discomfort it was.
“I think you should cremate her,” Ianto replied as he lifted himself from the floor.
“Oh, so you're Captain now?” Jack growled. “My case, my decision. She's a danger to the world.”
“She wasn't the danger, though, was she? It was that alien inside her! And that alien is dead!”
“If it's alien, it's ours!” Jack growled.
Ianto stepped back in shock. Never, not once since he'd known him, had Jack ever sounded like Yvonne Hartman. “What?” he asked slowly. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me! If it's alien, it's ours!” Jack growled again.
“So you're Torchwood London now? Locking up innocent people and experimenting on them? Torturing them? Executing them?”
“Don't you dare compare me to them!” Jack yelled. “I'm nothing like Hartmann!”
“I'm not the one who compared you! You are!”
Jack stood there, staring at Ianto. The impact of his words finally hit him. He saw the white Welsh features pale even further, the color drain from Ianto's face and his hands begin to shake. He cursed himself for reminding Ianto, even a bit, of Canary Warf.
“She's a danger,” he said, trying to recapture the argument that had somehow gotten out of his control. “She's a danger to us all!”
“And how's that, Captain?” Ianto rebounded angrily. “How can a dead woman be a danger to the world?”
“Ask yourself! How could Lisa be a danger?” Jack ground back, pushing Ianto backwards.
“Lisa. Wasn't. Dead,” Ianto said slowly, trying to remain calm. “She was alive. And it wasn't her that was a danger, it was the conversion. And you still let me cremate her!”
“'Cause the technology was a bigger danger!” Jack cried, throwing his hands up. “It had to be destroyed! There's a difference!”
“How so?” Ianto spat angrily. “How is cremating Lisa any different from cremating Katie? He needs it, Jack. He needs it! He needs to say goodbye, and keeping her locked up a few floors below him is killing him!”
“They are different!” Jack yelled.
“How? How are they different?” Ianto cried.
“'Cause you couldn't leave! He will!” Jack said, sinking to the floor.
“What?” Ianto asked, shocked.
“You had nothing else. Nothing. No family, no job prospects, nothing. You had no choice but to stay,” Jack said sadly, not even looking at Ianto. “What happens when I give him Katie's ashes? He has a family. He could be a doctor anywhere. He'll leave.”
“I...” Ianto began, searching for words. “I don't understand.” He dropped to his knees beside Jack.
“Owen was...was the first person I recruited after the Millenium. The first one, even before Suzie. I picked him, I chose him! He'll have nothing to stay for.”
Ianto touched Jack's face softly, pulling his chin up to meet Ianto's eyes. “So you're keeping Katie's body in the morgue so that Owen will stay?”
Jack sighed. He'd never, not once, explained his need for stability to Ianto. But after so many years of the deaths of friends and lovers, of being abandoned, of the Millenium massacre.... Ianto couldn't understand his need to keep what little he had, he just couldn't.
“He's family,” Jack sniffed, trying desperately not to give in and lean his head on Ianto's shoulders. He'd already asked so much of the young man, no- the boy. He couldn't ask him to shoulder his loneliness, his grief, his fears.
“He is family,” Ianto agreed. “He is family. And he's hurting, Jack. You're hurting him. Maybe he will leave. But then again, maybe he won't. Maybe he's found a place here, with you, with us. But you can't just lock him away, Jack. You can't be that person. You can't.”
Jack breathed a deep sigh. “He and you and Tosh and Gwen...You're all I have. Losing Suzie almost killed me. I can't...I can't lose him too.”
Ianto nestled Jack's face in the crook of his neck and kissed the top o head. “Poor Jack,” he sighed. “Always alone. It doesn't ever get easier, does it?”
Jack shook his head.
“You have to let him decide, Jack. You have to.”
Jack shook his head again. “I can't...I can't give him the body. The alien's still in her brain. I'm not Hartman, but I can't. I just can't. It was different with Lisa, it was!”
Ianto sighed. “Then give him ashes.”
Jack lifted his head, confused. “I just said -”
“I didn't say they had to be her ashes, Jack,” Ianto interrupted. “Remember me cleaning up your messes? Part of that is covering up deaths. I have contacts at the city morgue. Practically get an updated daily listing of every unidentified and unclaimed body they have. It doesn't have to be her ashes, as long as he believes they're hers.”
Jack gazed at Ianto. Who was this young man, this boy, who could come up with such a plan? So young to have such knowledge. Had he always been like this, or had Torchwood done this to him?
“And what about Katie?”
Ianto sat back on his heels, thinking. “We have empty morgue drawers. Put her in one of those. No identification,” he mused. “I can switch some of the old records around. Make it look like someone else, someone anonymous.”
“Do you really think this would help?” Jack asked warily.
Ianto sighed. “I'm not sure there's such a thing as closure. I'm not even sure it'll help him. But he needs something, Jack. He's...floundering...falling. He needs something to hold on to, even if its just a place in the park where he can scatter his ashes.”
Jack turned away. “Fine. Set it up. But he never finds out.”
Ianto nodded his acquiescence. “I understand. I'll have it arranged.”
Jack stood and sighed again. He looked over at the clock on the wall. “Forty minutes,” he chuckled darkly. “I'm going for a walk. I'll meet you at the front desk.”
Ianto sat there, silent, as Jack left. He knew he wouldn't see Jack until it was time to leave. Jack'd probably be headed to the roof, but Ianto knew that right now, his presence wasn't wanted. He wished it could have gone better, but still. At least it had gotten somewhere. And maybe, just maybe, it'd help Owen.
Three days later, Ianto climbed Mount Snowdon, tracking Owen's mobile signal. He found the medic on a craggy cliff, overlooking the country, holding an innocuous black box.
Ianto walked over and stood next to Owen, wincing as the pack on his back bumped into his spine. He said nothing, did nothing, content to let Owen control what would happen next. He watched as Owen dug a small hole in the dirt and poured the gray ashes from the box. He swept dirt over the ashes and picked up a rock to cover it.
At that, Ianto stopped him. He put the sack on his back down on the ground and reached in. As Owen watched, Ianto pulled out a small bronze plaque. He handed it to Owen.
Owen took the plaque and looked at it. Plain and simple, just as Katie would have wanted. No ornamentation, no ostentation, just three simpled words, “She Is Loved.” He turned to Ianto and opened his mouth, but no words came out. Ianto acknowledged with a simple bow of his head. Owen turned back and knelt down, reverently pushing the plaque into the dirt. He sobbed silently, his whole body shaking.
Ianto stood, knowing that Owen would rather no one see him like this. Instead, he headed back down the mountain and stood by Owen's car. Some time later, with the sun just hitting the crest of the earth as it set, Owen approached him and lent against the car.
Ianto reached back into the sack and pulled out a thermos of coffee. He handed it to Owen, who took a swig and sighed.
“Let's head back,” Owen said, opening the car door. It was then that he noticed there were no other cars in the lot. He raised an eyebrow at Ianto.
Ianto shrugged. “Cab,” he replied.
Owen rolled his eyes. “Fine, get in. But one word about the take-away cartons and I'll make sure to forget the anesthesia next time you're hurt.”
Ianto smirked. “Don't worry. Jack'll take care of me.”
“He's not mad then?” Owen asked, the false nonchalant tone clearly evident. Not that he wanted the Tea-Boy and Captain shagging like rabbits, but Ianto had stood up for him. Looked like he owed him now, not that he'd ever mention it of course.
Ianto shrugged as he fiddled with the seatbelt. “Took him a while, but he's fine. Like a volcano, he is. Mad as hell one minute, but he calms down pretty quickly. Besides, I do give one hell of a blowjob.”
Owen barked out a laugh. “I so don't wanna know,” he said as he pulled out of the lot and headed back to Torchwood.
“I could tell you more if you'd like,” Ianto suggested.
“Don't even think about it, Tea-Boy! If I wanted to know anything about what Harkness is like in bed, I'd shag him myself!”
“Oh so you admit it, then. You'd shag Jack?”
“Shut up! That's not what I said!”
“But it's what you implied! Tired of the ladies, Owen? Or maybe they're tired of you?”
The bickering continued the entire drive back, and was only ended when Owen practically kicked Ianto out of the car and onto the Plas. As Ianto began walking away towards the Tourist Office, Owen called him back.
“Yeah?” Ianto said through the car window.
“Just....” Owen began, struggling.
“Yeah,” Ianto said, nodding.
Owen looked at him and nodded back. As Ianto began walking away again, Owen called out. “Oi! Tea-Boy! Physical tomorrow!”
Ianto turned on his heel. “I just had one!” he whinged. He really, really hated physicals. There was the running on the treadmill, the peeing in a cup, the needles. Oh god, the needles. He'd blocked them from his mind last time. So many, many needles, innoculating him against all the possible alien diseases...Oh god the needles...
“Yeah well you're getting another!” Owen called back grinning. There were only so many ways to put Ianto off his game, and needles were one of them. “Think of all the small pricks!”
It wasn't until Owen had pulled away amidst a cloud of small pebbles that Ianto returned from his fear of needles to come up with a suitably appropriate come-back. Resigning himself to tomorrow, he resolved to take as much pleasure as possible tonight. An early reward, he mused. Far tastier than any lolly.
Entering the Hub via the Cog Door, Ianto was greeted by a very nervous Jack, spinning in Tosh's chair. When Ianto stepped next to him, he asked, “He coming back?”
Ianto smiled and ran a hand through Jack's hair. “Yep. Physicals tomorrow.”
Jack grinned. “Well then, guess we have to make the most of tonight. You know how you are the night after all those needles.”
Ianto blanched. “Not my fault,” he stuttered. “They bloody hurt!”
“Aww,” Jack crooned as he pulled Ianto close to him. “Poor widdle Ianto. Want me to make the big, bad needles go away?”
“I don't think you can. Medically, he outranks you,” Ianto pointed out.
“Yeah, but maybe we could do a bit of psychology?”
“And just what did you have in mind, Sir?”
Jack leered. “Think about it. I fuck you all night long. My cock up your ass, in your mouth, my nails in your skin, my teeth on your neck. My tongue licking that little place where your arm creases at the elbow.”
Jack pulled Ianto's belt, yanking the younger man closer. He lifted said arm, nuzzling the skin beneath the silk. “Then, all day long, your body aches for me, because of me. And every time Owen makes one of his prick jokes, all you can think about is my 'needle'. And anytime you feel a pinch on your skin, you see my teeth, my nails. And any bruises left over, you imagine those are from me.”
Ianto sucked in a deep breath. “I...I think we should get started on this right away.”
“Oh yeah,” Jack purred, pulling Ianto towards his office. “Just what the doctor ordered.”