ONCE MORE WITH FEELING
Characters: Jack Ianto
Pairing: Very early Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG for dubious use of alien medicinal oil
Spoilers: Episodes Cyberwoman and Countrycide
Disclaimer: Not mine; they belong to the BBC.
Summary: Jack goes to check up on Ianto after their return to Brynblaidd.
Jack hammered on the door to the terraced house and decided that if the idiot wasn't going to respond in another ten minutes, he was going to kick down the door and get in that way. Some small distant part of him was murmuring 'anger management' very quietly, but he was past caring. A man had his limits and after the kind of day he'd had, those limits were far in the distance and heavily trampled.
The heavy wooden door remained obstinately closed and Jack gave it a petulant kick before whirling around and moving back up the path a ways. The tiny front garden was harshly lit by the nearby streetlight and he realised that it was mostly gravel with some large boulders positioned here and there. He rolled his eyes. A Zen garden. It figured. He was in the process of reaching down to grab a handful of gravel to throw at an upper window when he realised that the light had come on in the small window over the door.
"At bloody last," he growled, dropping the gravel and stalking forward again.
He reached the front door just as it opened. Ianto leaned on the door and peered at Jack in confusion. He was still wearing the clothes he had had on for the mission and he looked even more battered than he had when Jack had left him to escort Toshiko home. Jack suppressed the urge to start yelling at him immediately and kept walking, forcing Ianto to either give way or slam the door in his face. To Jack's relief, the Welshman chose the former. He had a brief impression of a hallway decorated in cherry and cream as he made for the stairs.
"Where's the bedroom? Upstairs? You people are so predictable. Come on," he called over his shoulder as he took the stairs two at a time.
"What?"
Ianto sounded as confused as he did tired, but he did follow Jack up the stairs, albeit a lot more slowly. Jack was on the landing by now and quickly checked the first two doors he came to. One opened on to what was obviously a home office and the second was the bathroom. That left two other doors, and these were obviously bedrooms.
"Which one is yours?" Jack asked crisply. Ianto stared at him, a little bemused, then silently pointed to one. "Good, come on."
He walked in and looked around. He'd been a little surprised when he had looked up Ianto's address. If he ever considered it at all, he'd imagined that Ianto would have a modern flat, very sleek and minimalist. Instead he'd found himself on a quiet street, outside a three-bedroomed terrace house. The surprise continued inside. There was no sign of any modern furniture. The bed, wardrobe, bookshelves and chest of drawers were all made out of wood that glowed with the lustre of age and care when he switched on the light. They all looked old-fashioned, but the bed (a double, he noted irrepressibly) caught the eyes because of the fluid carvings on the head- and tail-board. Art Nouveau, or a damn good copy, he decided, then dismissed any further speculation as he turned back to fold his arms and glare at Ianto.
"Who the hell gave you permission to leave the Hub?" he demanded.
Ianto blinked and gave him another confused look. "Owen took Gwen to hospital and said he'd take her home after that. I cleaned out the SUV and reloaded the guns, sir, but I was tired and I- I thought..."
"Oh, you did, did you?" Jack said ferociously.
He could still feel the remnants of the panic he had felt when he had returned to the Hub and found it deserted. Owen had already told him that he would be taking Gwen to get proper medical treatment, so he hadn’t expected to see either of them. Ianto, though.... Ianto never left the Hub after a mission until he had prepped the SUV, unloaded any specimens or tech and entered at least a preliminary report on the computer. While Jack had discovered the SUV prepped, all their used stuff had just been dumped to one side and there wasn't so much as a hint of a report on the main drive when he had checked. Neither had there been a sign of Ianto when he'd made a sweep of the Hub's internal security cameras.
It had been all too easy to remember the last time he had returned to the Hub, found it deserted and through sheer blind luck had been able to find Ianto and drag him out of the Bay before his suicide bid had been successful. He'd been about to start searching, his heart hammering in his throat, when he'd spotted the email icon blinking and had discovered that Ianto had sent him a note to tell him that he had taken some of the time owing to him and gone home early. Boneless relief had taken less than thirty seconds to become incandescent rage and he was still riding on the vestiges of that emotion.
Owen had already told Jack that he was fairly certain that Ianto had a mild concussion and some of things Tosh had said made Jack think the doctor was right. It would take him a while to get over the memory of seeing how battered Ianto had been and when Tosh had told him about the cleaver, it had taken all of what was left of Jack's self-control to keep from eliminating the villagers and being done with them. He'd expected to find Ianto safely at the Hub when he returned, where he could keep an eye on him, since he had already found out about Ianto's intense aversion towards hospitals of any kind. As he'd made for Ianto's home at top speed, he had had visions of Ianto collapsing or going into a coma while he was all alone. That wasn't something Jack wanted to happen and he was going to make damn sure it didn't happen while he was on watch.
Making a conscious effort to relax and rid himself of the lingering fury and fear, Jack sighed and started to shuck off his coat. "Take off your clothes," he ordered as he turned to toss the coat over a chair against the room. He undid his shirtsleeve buttons and had started to roll them up when he registered the squeak from behind him. That was the only thing he could describe it as and he turned back to see Ianto staring at him, his eyes so huge they threatened to fall off his face at any moment. "What?" he demanded.
"You..." Ianto stopped and took a deep breath. "You want us to have sex now?" he asked in a tone torn between scandalised and disbelieving.
Jack felt his jaw drop, then realised what his actions must have looked like. The last of his anger disappeared as he started to chuckle. The slightly offended look that blossomed on Ianto's face finished the job and he laughed with genuine amusement. Jack lifted his hand when it looked like Ianto was going to say something.
"Hang on, I think we're at cross purposes here. Ianto, you may or may not be concussed but you were definitely beaten up at least once and the very fact that you knocked off early from work and have been back here for at least an hour without changing into clean clothes tells me that you are far from 'all right'. I want you to get undressed, go and have a shower and then let me check you over to make sure there are no serious injuries. Owen told me he'd only had time to give you a quick once-over before you pulled one of your disappearing tricks to find the SUV. I promise, on my word of honour, that I have no intention of making an advance towards you tonight. I just want to make sure that you're all right, okay? Now go and take that shower - and leave the bathroom door open so I can hear if you pass out and fall." He finished rolling up his sleeves and met Ianto's gaze expectantly. For a moment, he didn't think he was going to get any reaction, then Ianto drew himself up to his full height.
"I am not concussed," he said with careful dignity.
"Uh-huh," Jack said with a certain degree of scepticism. "How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked as he lifted his hand. When Ianto focused a little owlishly on his hand but said nothing, Jack frowned. "Scratch that, try how many hands am I holding up?"
"Um, one?" Ianto hazarded, sounding doubtful.
Jack sighed. "I rest my case." He closed the distance between them and waited until the other man had focused again. "Ianto, trust me. I want to make sure that you're all right. Shower and then come back in here." He waited until the Welshman was walking out of the room before he let the imp of mischief overwhelm him. "I'll be in the kitchen warming the oil."
Ianto's reaction times were still good. His head snapped round as he gave Jack a truly horrified look but he managed to stop himself from walking right into the door. Giving Jack a speaking look - with such a vocabulary - he fled to the bathroom. Jack waited until he heard the water start up, then he fished out the small bottle and scanner he had picked up before he had left the Hub and made his way downstairs.
The kitchen was a haven of restful terracotta and cream, with wooden furniture again. Jack rummaged as quietly as he could in the cupboards until he found a small saucepan, then set it to boil water while he poured the oil into a bowl and set it on top. While he was waiting for it to heat up, he ran an appreciative hand across the age-smoothed carving on the Welsh dresser. It was no surprise to be unable to find a speck of dust, but everything else was completely opposite to everything he'd imagined. A quick look in the living room as he went back upstairs revealed the same pattern - lots of wood, overstuffed sofas and a definite leaning towards Art Nouveau. He mentally filed that little titbit away as potentially useful. He'd been around in the Art Nouveau period and if Ianto was a fan, that would give them something a little more neutral to talk about.
The shower had cut out while he had been downstairs but he hadn't heard the sound of anything falling, so he assumed that everything had passed off normally. He walked back into the bedroom and very nearly dropped the bowl when he saw Ianto sitting on the bed, wearing a robe and with his hair dishevelled by the towel he had been drying it with.
Bad Jack, he told himself sternly. Think like a doctor and stop thinking how bloody edible he looks- ack! Shaking his head to dislodge the images that were gleefully crowding inside, Jack carefully put the bowl down on the bedside table. "Right, let's have a look at you," he ordered briskly.
He was fairly sure that Ianto was ruthlessly controlling the urge to wrap the robe even tighter around himself. He tried for a reassuring smile and must have done something right because, very slowly, Ianto uncurled a little and reluctantly opened up the robe. The moment Jack saw his body, all thoughts of teasing and desire fled. In addition to the bump and cuts on his face, Ianto's left hand torso and stomach were a mass of bruises and at least one clear imprint of a boot. His throat also showed bruises and a nasty cut where the cleaver had rested just before Jack had made his entrance and sent all Hell breaking loose.
Swallowing the urge to curse, Jack scooped up the scanner and used it to check him over. Ianto watched him warily, especially when Jack got near the underpants he was wearing, but Jack made sure he kept his face impassive while he was working. He was very much aware of the body under his hands, and he'd have been lying if he had said that he didn't find it a damned attractive one, but he was also pretty certain that Ianto wasn't the type to enjoy sex while he was in pain. Jack also knew that he and Ianto had a long way to go before they got back to that easy relationship they had had in the past. Sometimes, when he was feeling worn, Jack wondered if they would ever get back there.
"That thing always reminds me of Star Trek," Ianto said. He sounded tired and Jack glanced up to see the exhaustion echoed in the other man's face. "Only it doesn't make the right noises."
Jack smiled. "I could always rig up a soundtrack for it," he offered. He looked back down as the readouts started to scroll up on the small screen. "No serious internal damage," he said in relief. "Just some very nasty bruising, one cracked rib, scrapes and cuts. But you do have a mild concussion, so I'd better stay and keep an eye on you tonight."
"What about the Hub?" Ianto sounded curious, rather than argumentative.
"I've put the place on automatic and if anything happens, I'll be notified," he said, lifting his wristcuff. "Now let's get this oil on you. And don't look so worried," he continued when Ianto's eyes immediately widened again. "This is purely medicinal. It'll soak into the skin and muscle, reduce inflammation and stop any infection. It also has some pain-killing properties."
He brought the bowl over to the bed, dipped his fingers into the warm, green liquid and carefully smeared it as gently as possible over the biggest and most livid bruise on Ianto's stomach. "Bastard kicked you?"
Ianto had gasped as the liquid made contact with his skin but he relaxed almost immediately and shrugged carefully. "A few times. I think I made him mad when I headbutted him as a distraction. He left to go after Tosh but then the others arrived and they... they wanted to t-tenderise me."
There was a bit of a gasp to his voice when he got to that bit and Jack frowned at him, wondering what exactly had gone on. He was certain it had to have been something worse than a beating to put that frantic look in Ianto's eyes. He opted to focus on something a little more upbeat. "Tosh is a bit mad at you. She assumed you were going to make a break for it with her."
Ianto managed a breathy laugh that hitched on a gasp of pain as his body protested the activity. "Poor old Tosh was mad at me well before then. She drew the short straw when you paired her with me."
Jack gave him a sharp look. "Why do you say that?"
Ianto gave him a puzzled look that was a little dazed as the oil's properties started to make themselves felt. "I was bloody useless out there. Got caught, got clobbered, had an attack of the vapours, got taken down by a little old woman, for God's sake! Then got trussed up like a chicken and nearly had my throat cut, and after all that, Tosh still got caught and so did the others and if it hadn't have been for you we'd have all been on the Sunday menu!" He drew in a shaky breath. "All I could think was that we would all die here and no-one would know what had become of us or even come after us, there would have been no-one to care we had gone and what the bloody hell was the point of it all?"
His voice had risen as he was talking and the final bit was spat out with enough anger to make his body vibrate under Jack's hand. He hissed with pain almost at once and did his best to relax back on the bed. Harkness continued to carefully massage the oil in for a while, silent while he gathered his thoughts.
"You never went into the field while you were in Torchwood London, did you?" he eventually asked.
Ianto gave a disbelieving snort. "Are you kidding? I wasn't authorised to go anywhere near a weapon of any kind. Admin was admin and that was that. End of story. I hadn't realised that London was so specialised before I applied to go there."
"So this was your first field mission. Hell of a starter for ten, huh?" He smiled to take any potential sting out of the words.
"I fell flat on my face when we were dealing with nothing more than a bunch of retarded lunatics," Ianto said flatly. "Somehow I can't see the Daleks or Cybermen losing sleep over the idea of running into me."
Jack shook his head. "Might I point out that all of the others were also up a creek without the proverbial paddle?"
"You weren't." There was a mixture of resentment and admiration in his voice.
"Ah, well I've had a bit more experience in dealing with retarded lunatics," he said smoothly.
He was starting to think that the oil might have been a bad idea. He could feel Ianto relaxing under his touch and he knew that its effects would give Ianto a significant head-start on healing. But there was the fact that he was in direct contact with Ianto's bare skin and that was doing seriously delicious things to his hormones. He cleared his throat, told his inner sex-maniac to take a hike, and switched his attention to Ianto's throat. His inner sex maniac stuck its tongue out at him but was quietened by the fact that there was no sign of Ianto being aroused by Jack's touch. He was completely passive, his eyes half-closed as he studied Jack thoughtfully.
"Do I have a smudge on my nose?" Jack asked light-heartedly.
"Why can't I figure you out?" Ianto sounded sleepily confused. "The others are easy. I know what pleases them and what annoys. But you... you don't fit any pattern. You I can't predict."
After a moment of surprise, Jack managed a smile. "Don't you just love that about me? Nothing but surprises."
Ianto didn't look convinced. "Surprises can kill," he mumbled unhappily.
Remembering the conversation he had overheard between Ianto and his sister, Jack knew just why Ianto needed to know how to predict his actions but he hadn't yet figured out how to hint around the subject without sending the younger man into panicked flight. Before he could pick up on the opening, however, Ianto managed to send all coherent thought packing by stretching sinuously and sighing happily.
"What's in that oil?" he asked drowsily. "I feel good."
You look good too, Jack thought a little giddily. But still far too battered and vulnerable for Jack to be tempted to take advantage. He knew what it felt like to be taken advantage of and forced and he had sworn to never take that particular path. So far he had managed to keep that promise to himself, although there had been some very close calls. He wasn't even close to being tempted to do so on this occasion.
"The oil's a little gift from the Rift but I only use it for special occasions. It does everything I said it does, but it has the side effect of stimulating the human body to produce lots and lots of endorphins and a positive flood of serotonin. It can be a bit overwhelming."
"So I'm high as a kite?" Ianto asked and laughed softly to himself.
Jack found himself smiling back. "Pretty much," he agreed.
Ianto yawned and settled back. "Mmm, that would explain the floaty feeling, then."
This time Jack chuckled openly. "Floaty feeling, huh? Enjoy it while you can. It'll have worn off by tomorrow morning and you'll be aching again."
Ianto smiled. "Why don't you kiss it better then?"
Jack dropped the bowl, then had to grab and stabilise it before what was left of the oil spilled over the bed. "W-what did you say?" he demanded incredulously, as he put the bowl to one side.
Ianto lifted a hand to wave about vaguely. "Y'know, like you did that last time."
"You remember that time, then?" Jack said slowly. He watched Ianto nod and felt a stab of some nameless emotion. "You didn't mention it when Gwen asked her question." He still couldn't pin down what he had felt back at the campsite when Ianto had said Lisa had been the last one to kiss him. Annoyance? Relief? Jealousy? His emotions were so tangled when it came to Ianto that he'd almost given up trying to unravel them.
"Gwen asked when was the last time I snogged anyone," Ianto corrected. "What you did wasn't a snog." He frowned. "Don't know what it was, really, but it was nice. All gold and sparkly inside my head."
Jack's breath caught in his throat. "You saw the light?" he asked, then made a face at how that sounded. Fortunately Ianto took him literally.
"Hmmm." He closed his eyes and made vague motions with his hands. "All swirls and drifts like clouds, but gold and red and bronze. Warm but it felt like... like standing underneath a waterfall. Exciting and scary and filling me with the endless energy. I was falling but it grabbed me and wouldn't let go." He opened his eyes to give Jack a level look. "You wouldn't let me go. Just as you wouldn't let me go when you pulled me out of the Bay."
Jack opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he could gather his scattered wits. They hadn't talked, not about Lisa and certainly not about Ianto's suicide bid. Ianto had sworn at him for saving him and Jack had told him that he wasn't dying until Captain Jack Harkness told him to. After that Jack had made Ianto stay away from the Hub for a month, telling him he was on suspension, and while Jack had checked on him they had never really talked and had allowed the silences and uncertainties between themselves to grow and begin to fester.
Truth be told, Jack wasn't completely certain what he'd done when he'd kissed Ianto during that chaotic time in the Hub when they had battled Lisa. He'd come back to life after Lisa had killed him and looked across to see Ianto's limp body half-in, half-out of the Rift Pool. Still feeling the painful rush of life flowing through him, he'd grabbed him and turned him over, dreading what he would find. Ianto had been unconscious or worse and hadn't responded when Jack had slapped him on the cheek. The next thing Jack knew, he had fastened his lips on Ianto's and was kissing him desperately. It wasn't mouth-to-mouth and it wasn't a sexual kiss. It was, more than anything, a desperate summons to the Ianto he thought he'd known, who had suddenly vanished to be replaced by this other man, with other allegiances and needs that had nothing to do with Jack Harkness. He wanted 'his' Ianto back, and when the Welshman had regained consciousness with a gasp and a rush, it had been that Ianto who stared up at Jack in confusion. Jack had put a finger to his lips, wanting to keep the moment for as long as possible, but then Lisa had screamed and everything had shattered into chaos again.
"I don't let go of what's precious to me," he finally said quietly. "Not while I think there's still a chance."
He was leaning forward before he realised what he was going to do. He paused with his lips just brushing against Ianto's, meeting the other man's gaze questioningly, looking for any sign of refusal. He saw only a kind of wary curiosity and he realised that Ianto didn't really think he was going to go any further. Well, Jack was never one to resist a dare.
He'd idly wondered from time to time what it would be like to kiss Ianto, but that was hardly unusual in that it was almost second nature for him to consider the relative bedding capacity of almost anyone who crossed his path. The difference had been in the way Ianto had started to feature more and more prominently in a lot of the scenarios. It turned out that the reality was nothing like his imagination, or that strange twisted memory of the other kiss. Ianto tasted of coffee, smoke and the tang of iron. Jack felt himself falling into the kiss, into a half-remembered dream of molten golden thunder and an inarticulate longing.
He took his time, because time had no meaning any more. He was caught between one heartbeat of the Infinite and another. Deep inside himself he heard the moaning song of the TARDIS and the bittersweet memory of being dissolved and reforged by the cold fires of the last Time Lord's soul. He would live, die and live again while his heart wailed a silent distress call for the lodestone to his new self to return to him, but now the cool clean lines of that longing were being distorted and made more complex by the presence of another siren beacon rising on his horizon. Another soul, shattered by different forces, but ready to be forged anew.
Ianto was passive beneath him, quietly accepting his kiss but not really kissing back. Worried that he was forcing himself on the other man, Jack started to break off, then felt Ianto's hand come down on the nape of his neck and keep him in place. Reassured, he continued the kiss, feeling Ianto's hand flexing gently against the soft skin at the base of his neck. And this time the Welshman was starting to respond, his aloofness melting as he responded to Jack's questing tongue.
And the hunger was there, blind questing need overwhelming Jack with its strength. He shifted on the bed, reaching out a hand to bring Ianto closer to him, only to feel the man flinch under his touch and a flash of pain momentarily glitter in the eyes that were darkening with passion. It killed the mood instantly and Jack jerked back, swearing to himself as he realised how close he had come to losing control. He thought he saw a flicker of disappointment on Ianto's face but it vanished immediately and he couldn't be certain.
"I said I wouldn't take advantage of you tonight," he said a little breathlessly. "You're in no shape to be bedded."
Ianto gave him an even look. "Tomorrow I'll be in my right mind."
Jack bit his lip. "I know, but at risk of sounding like something out of Mills and Boon, I want you to be in my bed because you want to be there, and not because you're dosed to the gills with endorphins."
Ianto seemed to consider that and after a long minute he nodded. "That sounds reasonable, although I'm not going to be so easy to catch when I'm sober. Two things, though."
"What's that?"
"This is my bed, not yours and I've seen the thing you call a bed in the Hub." He gave a disparaging snort.
"I'll order a four-poster bed in anticipation of my eventual and inevitable triumph," Jack promised him. He smiled at the 'hah!' that earned him. "What's the second thing?"
For a moment, Ianto looked genuinely anxious. "Please tell me that you're not a closet Mills and Boon reader!"
Jack laughed and shook his head. "Not even in my most desperate moments." He smiled at the sigh of relief that earned him. "Why?"
Ianto grimaced. "Yvonne was addicted to them. She used to make me go out and buy her a batch at a time."
"Yvonne? Yvonne Hartman?" Jack said in stupefaction. When Ianto nodded he couldn't hold back his laughter. "Good God, what a mental image: Little Miss Empire a Mills and Boon addict."
"It's all very well for you to laugh, but you weren't the one who had to queue up to buy the damn things. I swear the girls behind the till didn't believe me when I said they were for my boss and thought I was gay." Ianto shuddered at the memory.
Jack rolled his eyes. "Always with the labels. You people get so excited over the most trivial of things. Well, I know you're not gay," he said, the memory of Lisa burning the back of his mind. To distract himself, he ran a lazy finger down the length of Ianto's chest and stomach to his navel. "The question is, are you exclusively straight?"
Ianto gasped and arched up against his touch before giving another hiss and subsiding hurriedly. Sweet Lord, he's responsive, Jack thought in surprise. I know the oil's helping but it can only release what's there to begin with. The thought of all that potential going to waste saddened him and he almost gave in to his baser instincts. Bed him now, while he's open to all the pleasure I can give him, and he'll be mine for life, he thought.
And what about his trust and loyalty? Will you have that, as well, or will he know you for the selfish bastard you really are? his conscience countered. Jack sighed. He really didn't like his conscience. It had a knack of being right all the time.
"Take off the robe and lie on your stomach," he ordered after a moment. "I want to do your back, as well."
Ianto complied without any argument, easing himself back on the bed with the care of someone who was expecting pain. Seeing his back, Jack bit back expletives he hadn't used in decades. More bruising, another couple of boot imprints and what looked like the marks of sticks of some kind. He felt sick, imagining what it must have been like for Ianto, alone and at the mercy of a pack of lunatics. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.
"Jack?"
He opened his eyes again and realised that Ianto was giving him a worried look. "I should have killed them," he ground out. "I should have killed every last one of them. I should have taken them out and put a bullet in their gut and watched them die slowly like the bastards-" Ianto's hand on his arm stopped the tirade as it gathered pace.
"If you had, you would have been no better than them. We're supposed to be the good guys, remember?"
Jack paused and gave him a long look. "You, maybe, but I gave up on being good a long, long time ago."
Ianto smiled sleepily. "Then I'll just have to remind you."
"Maybe you should," Jack said slowly. I lost my way, Ianto, and I can't find my way back. I know what you're capable of. If anyone can help me find my soul, it's you. Gwen, bless her, is starting to slide into our mindset, so I'll have to keep her at a distance. What I need is a bloody-minded, stubborn, anally focused Welshman who can leave me floundering in hormones just by asking me if I want some coffee.
"I'm very good at nagging," Ianto agreed with a yawn.
Brought back to the matter at hand, Jack used the rest of the oil on Ianto's back, doing his best to ignore the way Ianto all but purred as the oil's effects took hold. His inner sex-maniac was painting graphic images of him, a healthy Ianto, an isolated cabin and the oil. He swallowed and shifted uncomfortably, trying to think of images to counter the heat flooding through him. He managed it a little too successfully when he got down to Ianto's hips, pulled the briefs down to follow a nasty graze and found a telltale set of bruises. He sucked in a disbelieving breath, feeling how Ianto had tensed beneath him.
"Ianto-"
"He didn’t go through with it," Ianto said in a distant voice. "The others didn't want their meat tainted."
"Oh, shit," Jack said.
He dropped his head in his hands, feeling the hysteria building up inside him. All the ways it could have gone wrong played through his head in an agonising cascade. All the ways he could have lost them all, just because he had got too cocky and thought he could handle anything the Rift could throw at him. Never assume anything. One of the first lessons he'd had drummed into him and he'd forgotten it. He'd been looking for the alien and it had been the human he should have been hunting. His team - the only real link he had with reality any more - had nearly paid the price for his ineptitude.
Ianto shifted around on the bed and reached out to wrap his arms around him. "Nearly only counts with hand grenades and thermonuclear warheads," he whispered. Then the merest thread of laughter entered his voice. "And thermal shockwaves, sonic blasts, biogenetic bombs, supernovas-"
Jack started to laugh and returned the hug carefully. "Thanks," he said gratefully. "It's just-" He stopped, feeling helpless.
"We survived," Ianto said firmly. "That'll do for now. I'd have preferred it hadn't happened but it did and I have to put myself back together again. It won't be the first time I've done it."
He started to pull away but Jack held on for a moment longer. "I'd prefer it if you didn't try and do it on your own, this time," he said, trying not to sound like he was pleading. Eyes that were still hazed with the oil's effects studied him for a long couple of minutes before Ianto nodded.
"I'll try, but I'm used to being on my own, Jack. And there's so much between us..."
Lisa was there, an enigmatic presence that Jack knew would never leave him. He had seen the enemy, the inhuman monster ready to kill them all. Ianto had seen the woman he had fallen in love with and promised to protect and heal. They would probably never know which one had been the real Lisa; maybe an amalgamation of the two. All Jack knew and cared about was the fact that Lisa had done her best to kill Ianto and that had put her very firmly in the monster bracket.
"I know," Jack said softly.
Ianto sighed and momentarily rested his forehead on Jack's shoulder. "I should hate you," he said wearily. "Sometimes I do hate you, but not often enough, not nearly often enough. You took away someone I promised I would protect, but she killed when she didn't have to and that wasn't the way Lisa was. Everything is mixed up inside me and the craziest thing is that I can't always hate you any more, no matter how much I want to."
"We could try starting over," Jack suggested cautiously.
Ianto gave him a crooked smile. "Even though I betrayed you and nearly destroyed Torchwood?"
Jack produced his best wide-eyed look of innocence. "When was that, then?" He was pleased to hear Ianto laugh at that but realised that the Welshman was starting to look exhausted again. "Come on, get some sleep while the oil's dulling the pain."
"Stay with me?" Ianto immediately blushed in mortification at the way he'd sounded like a scared child who was afraid of the dark, but Jack smiled reassuringly.
"You wouldn't be able to send me away. Mild concussion, remember? I'll be waking you up at regular intervals to make sure you're okay, so the quicker you get to sleep, the quicker I can start poking you."
Ianto made a face but settled down again. Jack moved around to the other side of the bed, then detoured to the bookshelf against the wall, studying the titles there. He gave the Welsh titles a wary look, raised an eyebrow at the small selection in Japanese, Italian and Greek, then focused on the English ones. The history and science wasn't a surprise, but the mythology and poetry was. He pulled out an English translation of The Mabinogion, kicked off his shoes and lay down beside Ianto, switching on the table lamp as he did so.
There was a soft purring grunt and a cat suddenly appeared on the bed, pausing to give Jack a suspicious look before padding up to investigate Ianto's face with cautious sniffs. Jack did a double-take as he got a good look at the animal.
"Is that Moses?" he asked.
Ianto had reached out to stroke the cat and gave him a shamefaced look. "Estelle hadn't mentioned who he was supposed to go to. I tried placing him in a cat sanctuary but they rang up to say that he wasn't settling so I brought him back with me. I meant to find a home for him, but he seems to like it with me and it's nice to have someone to come home to."
Having satisfied himself that Ianto was all right, if a little strange-smelling, Moses sneezed delicately and moved over to check Jack out. He smiled as he stroked the cat, remembering the times he had visited Estelle and been told very firmly to sit in another chair because he was in Moses' place.
"I forgot about you," he said to the cat in apology.
"You had other things on your mind," Ianto said sleepily. "Besides, it's my job to take care of the details."
Like arranging a beautiful funeral for her because she hadn't done it herself, Jack remembered. Contacting all of her friends and colleagues so she wouldn't go into the ground alone. Putting the details in the local papers because that's the done thing around here and not doing it would have been a mark of disrespect. Giving me a choice of wreaths so all I have to do is sign the card. And this for a man who a month previously had murdered the centre of your existence.
"I'm glad you've given him a home," Jack smiled. "He couldn't ask for a better owner."
Ianto snorted. "If you're using the word 'owner' then you've never had a cat of your own, sir."
Moses raised an imperative paw and batted at Jack's hand, as if in agreement. He turned and jumped off the bed, only to reappear a couple of seconds later on the chair where Jack had thrown his coat. Said coat was now being effectively pummelled as Moses made himself comfortable. Jack sighed.
"What about the cat hairs?" he asked.
Ianto yawned and snuggled deeper into the pillow. "I look upon them as a challenge, sir," he said as he slid into sleep.
Jack split his attention between the book and Ianto as the hours went by. This particular edition had some beautiful illustrations in it and Jack had forgotten how complex and vivid some of the imagery in the tales was. And then there was Ianto, sleep shearing away the defensive mask he so often wore when he was awake. Jack reached out a couple of times, but didn't quite touch the sleeping man. He was a little nervous of the way he was acting. He'd learned the hard way that being an immortal meant loving a normal human was a surefire path to heartache. No matter what promises were made, eventually death cancelled them all out and he was left alone again. He'd distanced himself as a defence mechanism, keeping his relationships light, brief and superficial as hell.
He was so damn lonely. Having Gwen know a little bit about him had told him how starved he was of company he could truly relax in. Where he didn't have to guard every word he said and constantly had to deflect the conversation away from topics he thought were dangerous. She was curious, but she was also afraid. He could see it in her eyes when she asked her questions, half-afraid of the answers he was going to give. She had reminded him that he had forgotten too much, but she wasn't the one he was looking for. He hadn't even realised who he was looking for until they had found that Ianto was so much more than he appeared to be.
Ianto suddenly stirred in his sleep, a frown marring his face. A choked off whimper and an attempt to curl in on himself told Jack that he was having a nightmare. He put the book down and reached down to place a hand on the younger man's shoulder. Ianto started awake with an inarticulate cry and for a moment he was still trapped in the nightmare, an expression of utter horror on his face.
"It's okay, you're safe, you're safe," Jack said hastily, tightening his grip on Ianto's shoulder. He realised from the dazed look in Ianto's eyes that he wasn't completely awake, but before he could say anything else, Ianto relaxed again.
"You're here. They can't get me if you're here," Ianto said a little muzzily before sinking back onto the pillow and falling asleep again.
Jack sat where he was for a long time, one hand still resting on Ianto's shoulder and an expression of quiet surprise on his face. After a while, he smiled and closed his eyes, feeling some of the sick failure leave him. Maybe he'd got them into trouble, but he'd got them out again and one of his team, at least, didn't blame him. It was enough for now. The rest would come in time.
He would make sure of it.
OOOO
Next story in chronological order is Get Back On The Horse That Bit You at http://tanarian5.livejournal.com/8093.html
Pairing: Very early Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG for dubious use of alien medicinal oil
Spoilers: Episodes Cyberwoman and Countrycide
Disclaimer: Not mine; they belong to the BBC.
Summary: Jack goes to check up on Ianto after their return to Brynblaidd.
Jack hammered on the door to the terraced house and decided that if the idiot wasn't going to respond in another ten minutes, he was going to kick down the door and get in that way. Some small distant part of him was murmuring 'anger management' very quietly, but he was past caring. A man had his limits and after the kind of day he'd had, those limits were far in the distance and heavily trampled.
The heavy wooden door remained obstinately closed and Jack gave it a petulant kick before whirling around and moving back up the path a ways. The tiny front garden was harshly lit by the nearby streetlight and he realised that it was mostly gravel with some large boulders positioned here and there. He rolled his eyes. A Zen garden. It figured. He was in the process of reaching down to grab a handful of gravel to throw at an upper window when he realised that the light had come on in the small window over the door.
"At bloody last," he growled, dropping the gravel and stalking forward again.
He reached the front door just as it opened. Ianto leaned on the door and peered at Jack in confusion. He was still wearing the clothes he had had on for the mission and he looked even more battered than he had when Jack had left him to escort Toshiko home. Jack suppressed the urge to start yelling at him immediately and kept walking, forcing Ianto to either give way or slam the door in his face. To Jack's relief, the Welshman chose the former. He had a brief impression of a hallway decorated in cherry and cream as he made for the stairs.
"Where's the bedroom? Upstairs? You people are so predictable. Come on," he called over his shoulder as he took the stairs two at a time.
"What?"
Ianto sounded as confused as he did tired, but he did follow Jack up the stairs, albeit a lot more slowly. Jack was on the landing by now and quickly checked the first two doors he came to. One opened on to what was obviously a home office and the second was the bathroom. That left two other doors, and these were obviously bedrooms.
"Which one is yours?" Jack asked crisply. Ianto stared at him, a little bemused, then silently pointed to one. "Good, come on."
He walked in and looked around. He'd been a little surprised when he had looked up Ianto's address. If he ever considered it at all, he'd imagined that Ianto would have a modern flat, very sleek and minimalist. Instead he'd found himself on a quiet street, outside a three-bedroomed terrace house. The surprise continued inside. There was no sign of any modern furniture. The bed, wardrobe, bookshelves and chest of drawers were all made out of wood that glowed with the lustre of age and care when he switched on the light. They all looked old-fashioned, but the bed (a double, he noted irrepressibly) caught the eyes because of the fluid carvings on the head- and tail-board. Art Nouveau, or a damn good copy, he decided, then dismissed any further speculation as he turned back to fold his arms and glare at Ianto.
"Who the hell gave you permission to leave the Hub?" he demanded.
Ianto blinked and gave him another confused look. "Owen took Gwen to hospital and said he'd take her home after that. I cleaned out the SUV and reloaded the guns, sir, but I was tired and I- I thought..."
"Oh, you did, did you?" Jack said ferociously.
He could still feel the remnants of the panic he had felt when he had returned to the Hub and found it deserted. Owen had already told him that he would be taking Gwen to get proper medical treatment, so he hadn’t expected to see either of them. Ianto, though.... Ianto never left the Hub after a mission until he had prepped the SUV, unloaded any specimens or tech and entered at least a preliminary report on the computer. While Jack had discovered the SUV prepped, all their used stuff had just been dumped to one side and there wasn't so much as a hint of a report on the main drive when he had checked. Neither had there been a sign of Ianto when he'd made a sweep of the Hub's internal security cameras.
It had been all too easy to remember the last time he had returned to the Hub, found it deserted and through sheer blind luck had been able to find Ianto and drag him out of the Bay before his suicide bid had been successful. He'd been about to start searching, his heart hammering in his throat, when he'd spotted the email icon blinking and had discovered that Ianto had sent him a note to tell him that he had taken some of the time owing to him and gone home early. Boneless relief had taken less than thirty seconds to become incandescent rage and he was still riding on the vestiges of that emotion.
Owen had already told Jack that he was fairly certain that Ianto had a mild concussion and some of things Tosh had said made Jack think the doctor was right. It would take him a while to get over the memory of seeing how battered Ianto had been and when Tosh had told him about the cleaver, it had taken all of what was left of Jack's self-control to keep from eliminating the villagers and being done with them. He'd expected to find Ianto safely at the Hub when he returned, where he could keep an eye on him, since he had already found out about Ianto's intense aversion towards hospitals of any kind. As he'd made for Ianto's home at top speed, he had had visions of Ianto collapsing or going into a coma while he was all alone. That wasn't something Jack wanted to happen and he was going to make damn sure it didn't happen while he was on watch.
Making a conscious effort to relax and rid himself of the lingering fury and fear, Jack sighed and started to shuck off his coat. "Take off your clothes," he ordered as he turned to toss the coat over a chair against the room. He undid his shirtsleeve buttons and had started to roll them up when he registered the squeak from behind him. That was the only thing he could describe it as and he turned back to see Ianto staring at him, his eyes so huge they threatened to fall off his face at any moment. "What?" he demanded.
"You..." Ianto stopped and took a deep breath. "You want us to have sex now?" he asked in a tone torn between scandalised and disbelieving.
Jack felt his jaw drop, then realised what his actions must have looked like. The last of his anger disappeared as he started to chuckle. The slightly offended look that blossomed on Ianto's face finished the job and he laughed with genuine amusement. Jack lifted his hand when it looked like Ianto was going to say something.
"Hang on, I think we're at cross purposes here. Ianto, you may or may not be concussed but you were definitely beaten up at least once and the very fact that you knocked off early from work and have been back here for at least an hour without changing into clean clothes tells me that you are far from 'all right'. I want you to get undressed, go and have a shower and then let me check you over to make sure there are no serious injuries. Owen told me he'd only had time to give you a quick once-over before you pulled one of your disappearing tricks to find the SUV. I promise, on my word of honour, that I have no intention of making an advance towards you tonight. I just want to make sure that you're all right, okay? Now go and take that shower - and leave the bathroom door open so I can hear if you pass out and fall." He finished rolling up his sleeves and met Ianto's gaze expectantly. For a moment, he didn't think he was going to get any reaction, then Ianto drew himself up to his full height.
"I am not concussed," he said with careful dignity.
"Uh-huh," Jack said with a certain degree of scepticism. "How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked as he lifted his hand. When Ianto focused a little owlishly on his hand but said nothing, Jack frowned. "Scratch that, try how many hands am I holding up?"
"Um, one?" Ianto hazarded, sounding doubtful.
Jack sighed. "I rest my case." He closed the distance between them and waited until the other man had focused again. "Ianto, trust me. I want to make sure that you're all right. Shower and then come back in here." He waited until the Welshman was walking out of the room before he let the imp of mischief overwhelm him. "I'll be in the kitchen warming the oil."
Ianto's reaction times were still good. His head snapped round as he gave Jack a truly horrified look but he managed to stop himself from walking right into the door. Giving Jack a speaking look - with such a vocabulary - he fled to the bathroom. Jack waited until he heard the water start up, then he fished out the small bottle and scanner he had picked up before he had left the Hub and made his way downstairs.
The kitchen was a haven of restful terracotta and cream, with wooden furniture again. Jack rummaged as quietly as he could in the cupboards until he found a small saucepan, then set it to boil water while he poured the oil into a bowl and set it on top. While he was waiting for it to heat up, he ran an appreciative hand across the age-smoothed carving on the Welsh dresser. It was no surprise to be unable to find a speck of dust, but everything else was completely opposite to everything he'd imagined. A quick look in the living room as he went back upstairs revealed the same pattern - lots of wood, overstuffed sofas and a definite leaning towards Art Nouveau. He mentally filed that little titbit away as potentially useful. He'd been around in the Art Nouveau period and if Ianto was a fan, that would give them something a little more neutral to talk about.
The shower had cut out while he had been downstairs but he hadn't heard the sound of anything falling, so he assumed that everything had passed off normally. He walked back into the bedroom and very nearly dropped the bowl when he saw Ianto sitting on the bed, wearing a robe and with his hair dishevelled by the towel he had been drying it with.
Bad Jack, he told himself sternly. Think like a doctor and stop thinking how bloody edible he looks- ack! Shaking his head to dislodge the images that were gleefully crowding inside, Jack carefully put the bowl down on the bedside table. "Right, let's have a look at you," he ordered briskly.
He was fairly sure that Ianto was ruthlessly controlling the urge to wrap the robe even tighter around himself. He tried for a reassuring smile and must have done something right because, very slowly, Ianto uncurled a little and reluctantly opened up the robe. The moment Jack saw his body, all thoughts of teasing and desire fled. In addition to the bump and cuts on his face, Ianto's left hand torso and stomach were a mass of bruises and at least one clear imprint of a boot. His throat also showed bruises and a nasty cut where the cleaver had rested just before Jack had made his entrance and sent all Hell breaking loose.
Swallowing the urge to curse, Jack scooped up the scanner and used it to check him over. Ianto watched him warily, especially when Jack got near the underpants he was wearing, but Jack made sure he kept his face impassive while he was working. He was very much aware of the body under his hands, and he'd have been lying if he had said that he didn't find it a damned attractive one, but he was also pretty certain that Ianto wasn't the type to enjoy sex while he was in pain. Jack also knew that he and Ianto had a long way to go before they got back to that easy relationship they had had in the past. Sometimes, when he was feeling worn, Jack wondered if they would ever get back there.
"That thing always reminds me of Star Trek," Ianto said. He sounded tired and Jack glanced up to see the exhaustion echoed in the other man's face. "Only it doesn't make the right noises."
Jack smiled. "I could always rig up a soundtrack for it," he offered. He looked back down as the readouts started to scroll up on the small screen. "No serious internal damage," he said in relief. "Just some very nasty bruising, one cracked rib, scrapes and cuts. But you do have a mild concussion, so I'd better stay and keep an eye on you tonight."
"What about the Hub?" Ianto sounded curious, rather than argumentative.
"I've put the place on automatic and if anything happens, I'll be notified," he said, lifting his wristcuff. "Now let's get this oil on you. And don't look so worried," he continued when Ianto's eyes immediately widened again. "This is purely medicinal. It'll soak into the skin and muscle, reduce inflammation and stop any infection. It also has some pain-killing properties."
He brought the bowl over to the bed, dipped his fingers into the warm, green liquid and carefully smeared it as gently as possible over the biggest and most livid bruise on Ianto's stomach. "Bastard kicked you?"
Ianto had gasped as the liquid made contact with his skin but he relaxed almost immediately and shrugged carefully. "A few times. I think I made him mad when I headbutted him as a distraction. He left to go after Tosh but then the others arrived and they... they wanted to t-tenderise me."
There was a bit of a gasp to his voice when he got to that bit and Jack frowned at him, wondering what exactly had gone on. He was certain it had to have been something worse than a beating to put that frantic look in Ianto's eyes. He opted to focus on something a little more upbeat. "Tosh is a bit mad at you. She assumed you were going to make a break for it with her."
Ianto managed a breathy laugh that hitched on a gasp of pain as his body protested the activity. "Poor old Tosh was mad at me well before then. She drew the short straw when you paired her with me."
Jack gave him a sharp look. "Why do you say that?"
Ianto gave him a puzzled look that was a little dazed as the oil's properties started to make themselves felt. "I was bloody useless out there. Got caught, got clobbered, had an attack of the vapours, got taken down by a little old woman, for God's sake! Then got trussed up like a chicken and nearly had my throat cut, and after all that, Tosh still got caught and so did the others and if it hadn't have been for you we'd have all been on the Sunday menu!" He drew in a shaky breath. "All I could think was that we would all die here and no-one would know what had become of us or even come after us, there would have been no-one to care we had gone and what the bloody hell was the point of it all?"
His voice had risen as he was talking and the final bit was spat out with enough anger to make his body vibrate under Jack's hand. He hissed with pain almost at once and did his best to relax back on the bed. Harkness continued to carefully massage the oil in for a while, silent while he gathered his thoughts.
"You never went into the field while you were in Torchwood London, did you?" he eventually asked.
Ianto gave a disbelieving snort. "Are you kidding? I wasn't authorised to go anywhere near a weapon of any kind. Admin was admin and that was that. End of story. I hadn't realised that London was so specialised before I applied to go there."
"So this was your first field mission. Hell of a starter for ten, huh?" He smiled to take any potential sting out of the words.
"I fell flat on my face when we were dealing with nothing more than a bunch of retarded lunatics," Ianto said flatly. "Somehow I can't see the Daleks or Cybermen losing sleep over the idea of running into me."
Jack shook his head. "Might I point out that all of the others were also up a creek without the proverbial paddle?"
"You weren't." There was a mixture of resentment and admiration in his voice.
"Ah, well I've had a bit more experience in dealing with retarded lunatics," he said smoothly.
He was starting to think that the oil might have been a bad idea. He could feel Ianto relaxing under his touch and he knew that its effects would give Ianto a significant head-start on healing. But there was the fact that he was in direct contact with Ianto's bare skin and that was doing seriously delicious things to his hormones. He cleared his throat, told his inner sex-maniac to take a hike, and switched his attention to Ianto's throat. His inner sex maniac stuck its tongue out at him but was quietened by the fact that there was no sign of Ianto being aroused by Jack's touch. He was completely passive, his eyes half-closed as he studied Jack thoughtfully.
"Do I have a smudge on my nose?" Jack asked light-heartedly.
"Why can't I figure you out?" Ianto sounded sleepily confused. "The others are easy. I know what pleases them and what annoys. But you... you don't fit any pattern. You I can't predict."
After a moment of surprise, Jack managed a smile. "Don't you just love that about me? Nothing but surprises."
Ianto didn't look convinced. "Surprises can kill," he mumbled unhappily.
Remembering the conversation he had overheard between Ianto and his sister, Jack knew just why Ianto needed to know how to predict his actions but he hadn't yet figured out how to hint around the subject without sending the younger man into panicked flight. Before he could pick up on the opening, however, Ianto managed to send all coherent thought packing by stretching sinuously and sighing happily.
"What's in that oil?" he asked drowsily. "I feel good."
You look good too, Jack thought a little giddily. But still far too battered and vulnerable for Jack to be tempted to take advantage. He knew what it felt like to be taken advantage of and forced and he had sworn to never take that particular path. So far he had managed to keep that promise to himself, although there had been some very close calls. He wasn't even close to being tempted to do so on this occasion.
"The oil's a little gift from the Rift but I only use it for special occasions. It does everything I said it does, but it has the side effect of stimulating the human body to produce lots and lots of endorphins and a positive flood of serotonin. It can be a bit overwhelming."
"So I'm high as a kite?" Ianto asked and laughed softly to himself.
Jack found himself smiling back. "Pretty much," he agreed.
Ianto yawned and settled back. "Mmm, that would explain the floaty feeling, then."
This time Jack chuckled openly. "Floaty feeling, huh? Enjoy it while you can. It'll have worn off by tomorrow morning and you'll be aching again."
Ianto smiled. "Why don't you kiss it better then?"
Jack dropped the bowl, then had to grab and stabilise it before what was left of the oil spilled over the bed. "W-what did you say?" he demanded incredulously, as he put the bowl to one side.
Ianto lifted a hand to wave about vaguely. "Y'know, like you did that last time."
"You remember that time, then?" Jack said slowly. He watched Ianto nod and felt a stab of some nameless emotion. "You didn't mention it when Gwen asked her question." He still couldn't pin down what he had felt back at the campsite when Ianto had said Lisa had been the last one to kiss him. Annoyance? Relief? Jealousy? His emotions were so tangled when it came to Ianto that he'd almost given up trying to unravel them.
"Gwen asked when was the last time I snogged anyone," Ianto corrected. "What you did wasn't a snog." He frowned. "Don't know what it was, really, but it was nice. All gold and sparkly inside my head."
Jack's breath caught in his throat. "You saw the light?" he asked, then made a face at how that sounded. Fortunately Ianto took him literally.
"Hmmm." He closed his eyes and made vague motions with his hands. "All swirls and drifts like clouds, but gold and red and bronze. Warm but it felt like... like standing underneath a waterfall. Exciting and scary and filling me with the endless energy. I was falling but it grabbed me and wouldn't let go." He opened his eyes to give Jack a level look. "You wouldn't let me go. Just as you wouldn't let me go when you pulled me out of the Bay."
Jack opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he could gather his scattered wits. They hadn't talked, not about Lisa and certainly not about Ianto's suicide bid. Ianto had sworn at him for saving him and Jack had told him that he wasn't dying until Captain Jack Harkness told him to. After that Jack had made Ianto stay away from the Hub for a month, telling him he was on suspension, and while Jack had checked on him they had never really talked and had allowed the silences and uncertainties between themselves to grow and begin to fester.
Truth be told, Jack wasn't completely certain what he'd done when he'd kissed Ianto during that chaotic time in the Hub when they had battled Lisa. He'd come back to life after Lisa had killed him and looked across to see Ianto's limp body half-in, half-out of the Rift Pool. Still feeling the painful rush of life flowing through him, he'd grabbed him and turned him over, dreading what he would find. Ianto had been unconscious or worse and hadn't responded when Jack had slapped him on the cheek. The next thing Jack knew, he had fastened his lips on Ianto's and was kissing him desperately. It wasn't mouth-to-mouth and it wasn't a sexual kiss. It was, more than anything, a desperate summons to the Ianto he thought he'd known, who had suddenly vanished to be replaced by this other man, with other allegiances and needs that had nothing to do with Jack Harkness. He wanted 'his' Ianto back, and when the Welshman had regained consciousness with a gasp and a rush, it had been that Ianto who stared up at Jack in confusion. Jack had put a finger to his lips, wanting to keep the moment for as long as possible, but then Lisa had screamed and everything had shattered into chaos again.
"I don't let go of what's precious to me," he finally said quietly. "Not while I think there's still a chance."
He was leaning forward before he realised what he was going to do. He paused with his lips just brushing against Ianto's, meeting the other man's gaze questioningly, looking for any sign of refusal. He saw only a kind of wary curiosity and he realised that Ianto didn't really think he was going to go any further. Well, Jack was never one to resist a dare.
He'd idly wondered from time to time what it would be like to kiss Ianto, but that was hardly unusual in that it was almost second nature for him to consider the relative bedding capacity of almost anyone who crossed his path. The difference had been in the way Ianto had started to feature more and more prominently in a lot of the scenarios. It turned out that the reality was nothing like his imagination, or that strange twisted memory of the other kiss. Ianto tasted of coffee, smoke and the tang of iron. Jack felt himself falling into the kiss, into a half-remembered dream of molten golden thunder and an inarticulate longing.
He took his time, because time had no meaning any more. He was caught between one heartbeat of the Infinite and another. Deep inside himself he heard the moaning song of the TARDIS and the bittersweet memory of being dissolved and reforged by the cold fires of the last Time Lord's soul. He would live, die and live again while his heart wailed a silent distress call for the lodestone to his new self to return to him, but now the cool clean lines of that longing were being distorted and made more complex by the presence of another siren beacon rising on his horizon. Another soul, shattered by different forces, but ready to be forged anew.
Ianto was passive beneath him, quietly accepting his kiss but not really kissing back. Worried that he was forcing himself on the other man, Jack started to break off, then felt Ianto's hand come down on the nape of his neck and keep him in place. Reassured, he continued the kiss, feeling Ianto's hand flexing gently against the soft skin at the base of his neck. And this time the Welshman was starting to respond, his aloofness melting as he responded to Jack's questing tongue.
And the hunger was there, blind questing need overwhelming Jack with its strength. He shifted on the bed, reaching out a hand to bring Ianto closer to him, only to feel the man flinch under his touch and a flash of pain momentarily glitter in the eyes that were darkening with passion. It killed the mood instantly and Jack jerked back, swearing to himself as he realised how close he had come to losing control. He thought he saw a flicker of disappointment on Ianto's face but it vanished immediately and he couldn't be certain.
"I said I wouldn't take advantage of you tonight," he said a little breathlessly. "You're in no shape to be bedded."
Ianto gave him an even look. "Tomorrow I'll be in my right mind."
Jack bit his lip. "I know, but at risk of sounding like something out of Mills and Boon, I want you to be in my bed because you want to be there, and not because you're dosed to the gills with endorphins."
Ianto seemed to consider that and after a long minute he nodded. "That sounds reasonable, although I'm not going to be so easy to catch when I'm sober. Two things, though."
"What's that?"
"This is my bed, not yours and I've seen the thing you call a bed in the Hub." He gave a disparaging snort.
"I'll order a four-poster bed in anticipation of my eventual and inevitable triumph," Jack promised him. He smiled at the 'hah!' that earned him. "What's the second thing?"
For a moment, Ianto looked genuinely anxious. "Please tell me that you're not a closet Mills and Boon reader!"
Jack laughed and shook his head. "Not even in my most desperate moments." He smiled at the sigh of relief that earned him. "Why?"
Ianto grimaced. "Yvonne was addicted to them. She used to make me go out and buy her a batch at a time."
"Yvonne? Yvonne Hartman?" Jack said in stupefaction. When Ianto nodded he couldn't hold back his laughter. "Good God, what a mental image: Little Miss Empire a Mills and Boon addict."
"It's all very well for you to laugh, but you weren't the one who had to queue up to buy the damn things. I swear the girls behind the till didn't believe me when I said they were for my boss and thought I was gay." Ianto shuddered at the memory.
Jack rolled his eyes. "Always with the labels. You people get so excited over the most trivial of things. Well, I know you're not gay," he said, the memory of Lisa burning the back of his mind. To distract himself, he ran a lazy finger down the length of Ianto's chest and stomach to his navel. "The question is, are you exclusively straight?"
Ianto gasped and arched up against his touch before giving another hiss and subsiding hurriedly. Sweet Lord, he's responsive, Jack thought in surprise. I know the oil's helping but it can only release what's there to begin with. The thought of all that potential going to waste saddened him and he almost gave in to his baser instincts. Bed him now, while he's open to all the pleasure I can give him, and he'll be mine for life, he thought.
And what about his trust and loyalty? Will you have that, as well, or will he know you for the selfish bastard you really are? his conscience countered. Jack sighed. He really didn't like his conscience. It had a knack of being right all the time.
"Take off the robe and lie on your stomach," he ordered after a moment. "I want to do your back, as well."
Ianto complied without any argument, easing himself back on the bed with the care of someone who was expecting pain. Seeing his back, Jack bit back expletives he hadn't used in decades. More bruising, another couple of boot imprints and what looked like the marks of sticks of some kind. He felt sick, imagining what it must have been like for Ianto, alone and at the mercy of a pack of lunatics. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.
"Jack?"
He opened his eyes again and realised that Ianto was giving him a worried look. "I should have killed them," he ground out. "I should have killed every last one of them. I should have taken them out and put a bullet in their gut and watched them die slowly like the bastards-" Ianto's hand on his arm stopped the tirade as it gathered pace.
"If you had, you would have been no better than them. We're supposed to be the good guys, remember?"
Jack paused and gave him a long look. "You, maybe, but I gave up on being good a long, long time ago."
Ianto smiled sleepily. "Then I'll just have to remind you."
"Maybe you should," Jack said slowly. I lost my way, Ianto, and I can't find my way back. I know what you're capable of. If anyone can help me find my soul, it's you. Gwen, bless her, is starting to slide into our mindset, so I'll have to keep her at a distance. What I need is a bloody-minded, stubborn, anally focused Welshman who can leave me floundering in hormones just by asking me if I want some coffee.
"I'm very good at nagging," Ianto agreed with a yawn.
Brought back to the matter at hand, Jack used the rest of the oil on Ianto's back, doing his best to ignore the way Ianto all but purred as the oil's effects took hold. His inner sex-maniac was painting graphic images of him, a healthy Ianto, an isolated cabin and the oil. He swallowed and shifted uncomfortably, trying to think of images to counter the heat flooding through him. He managed it a little too successfully when he got down to Ianto's hips, pulled the briefs down to follow a nasty graze and found a telltale set of bruises. He sucked in a disbelieving breath, feeling how Ianto had tensed beneath him.
"Ianto-"
"He didn’t go through with it," Ianto said in a distant voice. "The others didn't want their meat tainted."
"Oh, shit," Jack said.
He dropped his head in his hands, feeling the hysteria building up inside him. All the ways it could have gone wrong played through his head in an agonising cascade. All the ways he could have lost them all, just because he had got too cocky and thought he could handle anything the Rift could throw at him. Never assume anything. One of the first lessons he'd had drummed into him and he'd forgotten it. He'd been looking for the alien and it had been the human he should have been hunting. His team - the only real link he had with reality any more - had nearly paid the price for his ineptitude.
Ianto shifted around on the bed and reached out to wrap his arms around him. "Nearly only counts with hand grenades and thermonuclear warheads," he whispered. Then the merest thread of laughter entered his voice. "And thermal shockwaves, sonic blasts, biogenetic bombs, supernovas-"
Jack started to laugh and returned the hug carefully. "Thanks," he said gratefully. "It's just-" He stopped, feeling helpless.
"We survived," Ianto said firmly. "That'll do for now. I'd have preferred it hadn't happened but it did and I have to put myself back together again. It won't be the first time I've done it."
He started to pull away but Jack held on for a moment longer. "I'd prefer it if you didn't try and do it on your own, this time," he said, trying not to sound like he was pleading. Eyes that were still hazed with the oil's effects studied him for a long couple of minutes before Ianto nodded.
"I'll try, but I'm used to being on my own, Jack. And there's so much between us..."
Lisa was there, an enigmatic presence that Jack knew would never leave him. He had seen the enemy, the inhuman monster ready to kill them all. Ianto had seen the woman he had fallen in love with and promised to protect and heal. They would probably never know which one had been the real Lisa; maybe an amalgamation of the two. All Jack knew and cared about was the fact that Lisa had done her best to kill Ianto and that had put her very firmly in the monster bracket.
"I know," Jack said softly.
Ianto sighed and momentarily rested his forehead on Jack's shoulder. "I should hate you," he said wearily. "Sometimes I do hate you, but not often enough, not nearly often enough. You took away someone I promised I would protect, but she killed when she didn't have to and that wasn't the way Lisa was. Everything is mixed up inside me and the craziest thing is that I can't always hate you any more, no matter how much I want to."
"We could try starting over," Jack suggested cautiously.
Ianto gave him a crooked smile. "Even though I betrayed you and nearly destroyed Torchwood?"
Jack produced his best wide-eyed look of innocence. "When was that, then?" He was pleased to hear Ianto laugh at that but realised that the Welshman was starting to look exhausted again. "Come on, get some sleep while the oil's dulling the pain."
"Stay with me?" Ianto immediately blushed in mortification at the way he'd sounded like a scared child who was afraid of the dark, but Jack smiled reassuringly.
"You wouldn't be able to send me away. Mild concussion, remember? I'll be waking you up at regular intervals to make sure you're okay, so the quicker you get to sleep, the quicker I can start poking you."
Ianto made a face but settled down again. Jack moved around to the other side of the bed, then detoured to the bookshelf against the wall, studying the titles there. He gave the Welsh titles a wary look, raised an eyebrow at the small selection in Japanese, Italian and Greek, then focused on the English ones. The history and science wasn't a surprise, but the mythology and poetry was. He pulled out an English translation of The Mabinogion, kicked off his shoes and lay down beside Ianto, switching on the table lamp as he did so.
There was a soft purring grunt and a cat suddenly appeared on the bed, pausing to give Jack a suspicious look before padding up to investigate Ianto's face with cautious sniffs. Jack did a double-take as he got a good look at the animal.
"Is that Moses?" he asked.
Ianto had reached out to stroke the cat and gave him a shamefaced look. "Estelle hadn't mentioned who he was supposed to go to. I tried placing him in a cat sanctuary but they rang up to say that he wasn't settling so I brought him back with me. I meant to find a home for him, but he seems to like it with me and it's nice to have someone to come home to."
Having satisfied himself that Ianto was all right, if a little strange-smelling, Moses sneezed delicately and moved over to check Jack out. He smiled as he stroked the cat, remembering the times he had visited Estelle and been told very firmly to sit in another chair because he was in Moses' place.
"I forgot about you," he said to the cat in apology.
"You had other things on your mind," Ianto said sleepily. "Besides, it's my job to take care of the details."
Like arranging a beautiful funeral for her because she hadn't done it herself, Jack remembered. Contacting all of her friends and colleagues so she wouldn't go into the ground alone. Putting the details in the local papers because that's the done thing around here and not doing it would have been a mark of disrespect. Giving me a choice of wreaths so all I have to do is sign the card. And this for a man who a month previously had murdered the centre of your existence.
"I'm glad you've given him a home," Jack smiled. "He couldn't ask for a better owner."
Ianto snorted. "If you're using the word 'owner' then you've never had a cat of your own, sir."
Moses raised an imperative paw and batted at Jack's hand, as if in agreement. He turned and jumped off the bed, only to reappear a couple of seconds later on the chair where Jack had thrown his coat. Said coat was now being effectively pummelled as Moses made himself comfortable. Jack sighed.
"What about the cat hairs?" he asked.
Ianto yawned and snuggled deeper into the pillow. "I look upon them as a challenge, sir," he said as he slid into sleep.
Jack split his attention between the book and Ianto as the hours went by. This particular edition had some beautiful illustrations in it and Jack had forgotten how complex and vivid some of the imagery in the tales was. And then there was Ianto, sleep shearing away the defensive mask he so often wore when he was awake. Jack reached out a couple of times, but didn't quite touch the sleeping man. He was a little nervous of the way he was acting. He'd learned the hard way that being an immortal meant loving a normal human was a surefire path to heartache. No matter what promises were made, eventually death cancelled them all out and he was left alone again. He'd distanced himself as a defence mechanism, keeping his relationships light, brief and superficial as hell.
He was so damn lonely. Having Gwen know a little bit about him had told him how starved he was of company he could truly relax in. Where he didn't have to guard every word he said and constantly had to deflect the conversation away from topics he thought were dangerous. She was curious, but she was also afraid. He could see it in her eyes when she asked her questions, half-afraid of the answers he was going to give. She had reminded him that he had forgotten too much, but she wasn't the one he was looking for. He hadn't even realised who he was looking for until they had found that Ianto was so much more than he appeared to be.
Ianto suddenly stirred in his sleep, a frown marring his face. A choked off whimper and an attempt to curl in on himself told Jack that he was having a nightmare. He put the book down and reached down to place a hand on the younger man's shoulder. Ianto started awake with an inarticulate cry and for a moment he was still trapped in the nightmare, an expression of utter horror on his face.
"It's okay, you're safe, you're safe," Jack said hastily, tightening his grip on Ianto's shoulder. He realised from the dazed look in Ianto's eyes that he wasn't completely awake, but before he could say anything else, Ianto relaxed again.
"You're here. They can't get me if you're here," Ianto said a little muzzily before sinking back onto the pillow and falling asleep again.
Jack sat where he was for a long time, one hand still resting on Ianto's shoulder and an expression of quiet surprise on his face. After a while, he smiled and closed his eyes, feeling some of the sick failure leave him. Maybe he'd got them into trouble, but he'd got them out again and one of his team, at least, didn't blame him. It was enough for now. The rest would come in time.
He would make sure of it.
OOOO
Next story in chronological order is Get Back On The Horse That Bit You at http://tanarian5.livejournal.com/8093.html