FIC: Good Wishes to the Corpse
Title: Good Wishes to the Corpse
Characters: Jack/Ianto (with Tosh and Owen)
Rating: R
Words: 3050
Spoilers: Takes place exactly at the end of "Captain Jack Harkenss". Contains references to "Cyberwoman".
Notes: Fabulous beta done by kyrdwyn. Additional and much-needed feedback provided by ladykoori
Summary: Jealousy is that pain which a man feels from the apprehension that he is not equally beloved by the person whom he entirely loves” - Joseph Addison
That is ever the way. 'Tis all jealousy to the bride and good wishes to the corpse. - James M. Barrie (1860 - 1937)
Ianto stayed at his terminal as Tosh went in to see if she could do something about Jack’s mood. He wanted to be the one Jack confided in, but for so many reasons he knew he wouldn’t be.
He only had himself to blame. He’d never confided in Jack, after all. Instead he’d let his secrets fester until people had died and he and Jack and everyone else at Torchwood had nearly been killed.
He tried to keep his eyes on the monitor, but they kept skipping back to the glass between him and Jack and Tosh. They were toasting something or someone with the whiskey Jack kept on his desk. The whiskey that, more often than not, he shared with Jack.
He let out a great sigh and wished this insane fit of jealousy would go out with it. Tosh had a piece of Jack that he somehow felt entitled to. Not that he had a right, he knew.
Maybe Owen was right. Maybe he was just the teaboy and the part-time shag. Maybe in his own desperate attempts to believe that he was loved, now that Lisa was gone, he’d over-inflated his own place in Jack’s world. He stabbed at the computer buttons with far more force than necessary before announcing that he was going down to feed the Weevils. He was reasonably sure that the comment about them being better company than the present remained unvoiced. Though at the moment he really couldn’t have cared less if it hadn’t.
*~*~*~*
He worked off some of the aggravation wrestling the Weevils back into their cells after he tossed in their food. He was being oversensitive and juvenile and he knew it. He straightened up the walk-in freezer, made a notation for Owen to order more roadkill deer for his ‘medical research’ and double-checked all the cells before heading up to put on another pot of coffee. If nothing else, Tosh would need a few cups before she’d feel comfortable driving. She wasn’t nearly the lightweight she thought she was, but long association had taught him her ways.
As if she knew his thoughts, Tosh met him up in the kitchenette and waited with him as the coffee brewed.
“What happened to your hand?” Ianto asked, watching the coffee drip into the decanter.
“I got desperate,” Tosh said with a small smile. Something in her stance, in her tone told Ianto not to ask her to elaborate. Not yet. So he grabbed a rag from behind the tap, wet the end of it and began wiping off the little splashes of coffee that were plopping out of the nearly full pot.
The pause was pregnant and it was starting to make the skin between Ianto’s shoulderblades itch. Tosh had come up instead of waiting for him to bring the coffee around as he always did because she wanted to say something to him alone. He wished she’d get on with it.
Just as he was about to tell her to say something or wait downstairs before they both went mad, she finally folded herself into the one chair at the small table. “Look, I’m going to stick my nose in somewhere it doesn’t even come close to belonging.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow, but remained focused on the coffee machine. This was not a good start. Not that he expected this to be anything like a good conversation, but now he was sure he was seriously going to dislike where this was going.
“We were back in 1941,” Tosh said quietly, staring at the tabletop.
“I heard,” Ianto said as he pulled mugs off the shelf and set them on the tray. He tried not to sound bitter or impatient or angry, but wasn’t sure he was at all successful.
“He thought it was… funny at first. I mean, look at him, he fits in in that time period. But then he met… It’s complicated and he wouldn’t explain it all to me, but he met someone he thought he’d let down. Even though it was someone he’d never met before. Once they started talking though… They became close very fast. Even though Jack knew he’d lose him whether or not we made it back through the rift.”
Ianto gripped the dishrag in his hand, twisting it, not wanting to hear what Tosh was saying.
“Listen, it wasn’t - we were only there for, what? A night? Twelve hours? And we were in a public dance hall the whole time. They danced and they kissed, nothing else -“
Ianto leaned heavily against the sink. “Tosh, do I really need to know this?” He screwed his eyes shut. It was bad enough that Tosh was privy to secrets that Jack apparently hadn't felt comfortable sharing with him. Now she was standing there telling him that in half a day, Jack had found someone else to snog in his absence?
He could hear the chair scrape against the floor as she stood up. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to shake off the delicate hand she placed on his shoulder. “Yes. Because that was all. One kiss. It’s not worth ruining what the two of you have. Jack knew -“
“What?” Ianto spat out. “Jack knew what? That I was back here trying to hold together what was left of his team - to do what he wanted - to keep Owen from opening the rift? No matter how desperately I wanted him back? I’ve learned what he wanted me to learn. That sometimes you have to give up the people you love for the greater good. I was trying to convince Owen of that - not that I was very fucking successful at that -”
Tosh grabbed Ianto’s arm, spinning him around and pressing him back against the sink, her fingernails biting into his bicep. “He knew that that man was finally accepting who he was and that he was going to die the next day. Now, grow the fuck up!” she hissed before turning around and storming back down the stairs.
Ianto sank into the chair she’d abandoned and hung his head. He could feel someone’s eyes on him from the main floor and he just prayed they weren’t Jack’s. He was sick of feeling like he couldn’t do a damn thing right for anyone anymore.
Half an hour later he felt a hand on the back of his head. He couldn’t imagine who was coming up to try to comfort him after the jackass he’d been. He was absolutely shocked to look up and see Tosh standing there looking contrite.
She pulled up a crate from under the counter and perched on it. “I’m sorry, Ianto. I was worried about Jack. I didn’t stop to think about how much this would hurt you. I don’t know why, but I’d gotten it into my head that you already knew. I was trying to explain, not to drop a bombshell on you. No World War II puns intended.”
Ianto took her hand in his and gave her a half-grin for the pun. “You were right. I was being childish. It was a bit shocking to hear, but that doesn’t mean I handled it well. One look at Jack and you can tell something happened. Something that affected him profoundly. I should have been more understanding.”
“Let me tell you what happened. I think you’ll forgive him if you understand why he did it.”
“Should it matter?” Ianto asked himself as much as her. “I should simply trust him, right?”
“I came up here and told you, less than delicately, that the person you’re involved with kissed another man. I don’t think your reaction was out of line.” Tosh squeezed his hand.
“I’ve known Jack a long time. I should know by now that he’s … he’s different. I mean, there’s being bisexual and then there’s being Jack. It’s not just that he doesn’t judge based on gender. Jack doesn’t judge. When he fancies someone…” Ianto trailed off with a shrug. “It’s who he is, I knew that when I got involved with him. I shouldn’t get pissed when he turns out to be exactly as described on the tin.”
“It was a last kiss for a dying man, Ianto.” Tosh squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I wasn’t there for a lot of the time they talked, but I got the gist of it.” Tosh made a face as she tried to figure out how to name the other man. She was already neck-deep in business she didn’t really belong in, but she just couldn’t find a way to give up the little bit of himself Jack had shared with her. Not because she wanted to hoard away that piece of Jack for herself, but simply because it was Jack’s story to share or not. However, that still left her with the problem of describing the scene to Ianto. She bit her nail for a second before explaining, “Oddly enough, the other guy was named Jack as well. And, well, I have no idea how this came up, but our Jack realized that he was gay. He was gay and American and in the military and in the 1940’s. And he was about to die having never been able to be honest with himself or anyone else. Jack couldn’t let him go to his grave never having the kind of love and acceptance that everyone wants for at least one moment in their lives.”
Ianto nodded. He understood. Or at least he thought he had until Owen had planted that miserable little seed of doubt. “I understand. Thank you for caring for him enough to come up here and make me listen.”
Tosh leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s a little out of sorts for a few days. I didn’t want you to think it was something you’d done.” She stood up and slid the crate under the table. “You should go home soon. It’s pretty late.” With that she was back down the stairs. A few seconds later he heard her shouting her good-byes through the Hub. When he looked over the railing, Owen was, for some undiscernable reason, glaring up at him. It left him wondering what he’d done now.
He was starting to get a headache. He knew Owen had been aiming for his own weak spot - his concern that Jack still didn’t trust him, still didn’t want him for anything more than a cup of coffee and a quick screw at the end of the day. He knew that Owen had been trying to be cruel, to keep his emotions overriding his sense. But there was still that niggling doubt. What Tosh had said made sense. Was Jack simply trying to offer just a bit of comfort to a man he knew was going to die? To someone he couldn’t have any further relations with? Or had he been, as Owen had implied, simply been Jack being Jack? Always on the prowl?
He didn’t even hear Owen or Gwen leave. He wasn’t aware of anything outside his own whirling thoughts until Jack was suddenly right there asking something about the coffee.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Ianto looked up at him, confused. Not sure how to approach Jack. He knew Tosh had probably told him more than she was supposed to have, and he didn’t want to get Jack pissed at her, but at the same time it left him at a complete loss for how to deal with him.
“I asked if the coffee was fresh,” Jack repeated.
“Uh… um, it was about an hour ago. I can put on a new pot if you like.” Ianto stood and headed for the coffee machine again.
Jack caught his arm. “It’s fine.” Jack tapped the glass carafe with his finger, assuring that it was still hot. He poured coffee into two of the mugs Ianto had taken down earlier. He handed one over to Ianto. “You okay?”
Ianto straightened his spine and his jacket. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
Jack smiled. “I’m okay. Why don’t we take these downstairs?”
Ianto nodded and followed Jack to his office where they sat side by side on the sofa.
They sat for several minutes, sipping their coffee, the fingers of their near hands interlaced. Once the coffee was gone, Jack no longer had a distraction, so he shifted enough to see Ianto’s face. “I need to tell you something about what happened to me back there.”
Ianto stiffened. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not that Jack seemed about to share with him what Tosh had already told him. Part of him wanted to say that he already knew so that he wouldn’t have to have Jack’s voice going through his head explaining how he’d kissed a man he’d just met.
Ianto stomped back down on that little green-eyed fucker who was making his night so damn miserable. Tosh had explained. Jack was about to be completely above board with him. Why did this hurt so much?
Ianto listened, nodding at the right places as Jack explained the whole thing to him. About needing a different name, about taking Jack Harkness’, about the real Jack taking such a chance for someone in his time, about how he knew the real Jack was going to die and that he needed him to know that someone accepted him for who he was.
It was as Tosh had said. Ianto knew he should have felt better. Felt relieved that Jack wasn’t hiding what had happened. That Jack had felt solid in his convictions that giving that man a little peace was exactly the right thing to do. God knew Ianto understood following his convictions to do the right thing even if it wasn’t what most people would perceive as ‘good.’ He’d just shot a teammate to follow his own beliefs. He could have killed him. If he’d been a few inches off in his aim, if the bullet had moved up into Owen’s neck…
Jack kissed a man. Made him feel good one last time before he was going to die. It was so wrong of him to feel betrayed. He knew that. He knew exactly what he was signing on for when he starting sleeping with Captain Jack Harkness. His version of Captain Jack Harkness.
When Jack seemed to have finished talking Ianto made some kind of polite noise about being there if Jack needed anything and then gathered up the coffee cups and bolted back to his small haven in the kitchenette.
He was running the sink, waiting for the water to get hot so he could do the washing up, when he felt Jack’s hands on his shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” Jack whispered in his ear. “I meant it when I said that I didn’t do it to hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
Ianto hung his head and made himself busy with dropping the stopper into the sink and squirting dish soap into the water stream. He didn’t even remember Jack saying that. There’d been so much other gibbering in his own head by the time he’d been able to escape Jack’s office. “I know, Jack. I really do understand. I don’t know why -“ he wrestled internally with his words. He didn’t want to admit to Jack that he was jealous. Jealous of both Tosh and this other Jack. Jack had spent the day stuck in the past not knowing if he’d make it home or not and he was having a hissy because Jack had kissed a dying man.
Jack had been nothing but honest with him. He knew Jack deserved the same. “I don’t know why this is getting under my skin. I know I shouldn’t feel like this. I’m sorry.”
Jack slid his hands down Ianto’s back and around his waist hugging him from behind. One hand reached up to tap off the faucet before the suds could overflow the sink and then slid back to rest flat on Ianto’s stomach. “Owen was wrong,” he said quietly.
Ianto blinked at the non sequitor. “I know. I tried to stop him - I shot -“
“That wasn’t what I meant.” Jack’s voice was still low and Ianto could feel his breath on his ear now. “You aren’t ‘just the teaboy’. And you sure as hell aren’t ‘a part-time shag.’”
Ianto dropped the mug he’d grabbed into the wash water as he turned to face Jack, his eyes wide. He couldn’t imagine Owen having told Jack about that argument.
“I saw the CCTV footage. I…” Jack shrugged and gave him a slightly guilty grin. “I wanted to see you shoot him.”
Ianto backed up until he was against the sink for the second time that night. “You what?”
“Well,” Jack corrected himself, “I wanted to see what had led up to it. Not that I don’t think you have the courage to follow through on your promises; I absolutely do. But I had to see what the hell pushed you that far. If he’d said those things about me?” Jack continued, “I would have aimed -“ he cut himself off before he said something he mostly wouldn’t mean. “- somewhere else. And I would have done it a lot sooner.”
Ianto sighed and went to wrap his arms around Jack before realizing he was still covered in soap suds. He turned back and forth, looking for a tea towel.
“Fuck it, Ianto,” Jack said with a soft smile. He pulled Ianto’s wet hands around him and hugged him in return. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a pretty shitty day, all said. How about we go downstairs and put on a movie or something and crawl into bed together?”
Ianto leaned his head on Jack’s shoulder, taking pleasure in the fact that Jack was there and the hellacious day was over and that they still had this. “Why don’t you go find something? I’m going to finish up in here and I’ll be down directly.”
Jack pulled back and kissed him long and hard. “I’ll be waiting,” he said softly.
At the end of the day, really, that was all Ianto needed to know.
Characters: Jack/Ianto (with Tosh and Owen)
Rating: R
Words: 3050
Spoilers: Takes place exactly at the end of "Captain Jack Harkenss". Contains references to "Cyberwoman".
Notes: Fabulous beta done by kyrdwyn. Additional and much-needed feedback provided by ladykoori
Summary: Jealousy is that pain which a man feels from the apprehension that he is not equally beloved by the person whom he entirely loves” - Joseph Addison
That is ever the way. 'Tis all jealousy to the bride and good wishes to the corpse. - James M. Barrie (1860 - 1937)
Ianto stayed at his terminal as Tosh went in to see if she could do something about Jack’s mood. He wanted to be the one Jack confided in, but for so many reasons he knew he wouldn’t be.
He only had himself to blame. He’d never confided in Jack, after all. Instead he’d let his secrets fester until people had died and he and Jack and everyone else at Torchwood had nearly been killed.
He tried to keep his eyes on the monitor, but they kept skipping back to the glass between him and Jack and Tosh. They were toasting something or someone with the whiskey Jack kept on his desk. The whiskey that, more often than not, he shared with Jack.
He let out a great sigh and wished this insane fit of jealousy would go out with it. Tosh had a piece of Jack that he somehow felt entitled to. Not that he had a right, he knew.
Maybe Owen was right. Maybe he was just the teaboy and the part-time shag. Maybe in his own desperate attempts to believe that he was loved, now that Lisa was gone, he’d over-inflated his own place in Jack’s world. He stabbed at the computer buttons with far more force than necessary before announcing that he was going down to feed the Weevils. He was reasonably sure that the comment about them being better company than the present remained unvoiced. Though at the moment he really couldn’t have cared less if it hadn’t.
*~*~*~*
He worked off some of the aggravation wrestling the Weevils back into their cells after he tossed in their food. He was being oversensitive and juvenile and he knew it. He straightened up the walk-in freezer, made a notation for Owen to order more roadkill deer for his ‘medical research’ and double-checked all the cells before heading up to put on another pot of coffee. If nothing else, Tosh would need a few cups before she’d feel comfortable driving. She wasn’t nearly the lightweight she thought she was, but long association had taught him her ways.
As if she knew his thoughts, Tosh met him up in the kitchenette and waited with him as the coffee brewed.
“What happened to your hand?” Ianto asked, watching the coffee drip into the decanter.
“I got desperate,” Tosh said with a small smile. Something in her stance, in her tone told Ianto not to ask her to elaborate. Not yet. So he grabbed a rag from behind the tap, wet the end of it and began wiping off the little splashes of coffee that were plopping out of the nearly full pot.
The pause was pregnant and it was starting to make the skin between Ianto’s shoulderblades itch. Tosh had come up instead of waiting for him to bring the coffee around as he always did because she wanted to say something to him alone. He wished she’d get on with it.
Just as he was about to tell her to say something or wait downstairs before they both went mad, she finally folded herself into the one chair at the small table. “Look, I’m going to stick my nose in somewhere it doesn’t even come close to belonging.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow, but remained focused on the coffee machine. This was not a good start. Not that he expected this to be anything like a good conversation, but now he was sure he was seriously going to dislike where this was going.
“We were back in 1941,” Tosh said quietly, staring at the tabletop.
“I heard,” Ianto said as he pulled mugs off the shelf and set them on the tray. He tried not to sound bitter or impatient or angry, but wasn’t sure he was at all successful.
“He thought it was… funny at first. I mean, look at him, he fits in in that time period. But then he met… It’s complicated and he wouldn’t explain it all to me, but he met someone he thought he’d let down. Even though it was someone he’d never met before. Once they started talking though… They became close very fast. Even though Jack knew he’d lose him whether or not we made it back through the rift.”
Ianto gripped the dishrag in his hand, twisting it, not wanting to hear what Tosh was saying.
“Listen, it wasn’t - we were only there for, what? A night? Twelve hours? And we were in a public dance hall the whole time. They danced and they kissed, nothing else -“
Ianto leaned heavily against the sink. “Tosh, do I really need to know this?” He screwed his eyes shut. It was bad enough that Tosh was privy to secrets that Jack apparently hadn't felt comfortable sharing with him. Now she was standing there telling him that in half a day, Jack had found someone else to snog in his absence?
He could hear the chair scrape against the floor as she stood up. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to shake off the delicate hand she placed on his shoulder. “Yes. Because that was all. One kiss. It’s not worth ruining what the two of you have. Jack knew -“
“What?” Ianto spat out. “Jack knew what? That I was back here trying to hold together what was left of his team - to do what he wanted - to keep Owen from opening the rift? No matter how desperately I wanted him back? I’ve learned what he wanted me to learn. That sometimes you have to give up the people you love for the greater good. I was trying to convince Owen of that - not that I was very fucking successful at that -”
Tosh grabbed Ianto’s arm, spinning him around and pressing him back against the sink, her fingernails biting into his bicep. “He knew that that man was finally accepting who he was and that he was going to die the next day. Now, grow the fuck up!” she hissed before turning around and storming back down the stairs.
Ianto sank into the chair she’d abandoned and hung his head. He could feel someone’s eyes on him from the main floor and he just prayed they weren’t Jack’s. He was sick of feeling like he couldn’t do a damn thing right for anyone anymore.
Half an hour later he felt a hand on the back of his head. He couldn’t imagine who was coming up to try to comfort him after the jackass he’d been. He was absolutely shocked to look up and see Tosh standing there looking contrite.
She pulled up a crate from under the counter and perched on it. “I’m sorry, Ianto. I was worried about Jack. I didn’t stop to think about how much this would hurt you. I don’t know why, but I’d gotten it into my head that you already knew. I was trying to explain, not to drop a bombshell on you. No World War II puns intended.”
Ianto took her hand in his and gave her a half-grin for the pun. “You were right. I was being childish. It was a bit shocking to hear, but that doesn’t mean I handled it well. One look at Jack and you can tell something happened. Something that affected him profoundly. I should have been more understanding.”
“Let me tell you what happened. I think you’ll forgive him if you understand why he did it.”
“Should it matter?” Ianto asked himself as much as her. “I should simply trust him, right?”
“I came up here and told you, less than delicately, that the person you’re involved with kissed another man. I don’t think your reaction was out of line.” Tosh squeezed his hand.
“I’ve known Jack a long time. I should know by now that he’s … he’s different. I mean, there’s being bisexual and then there’s being Jack. It’s not just that he doesn’t judge based on gender. Jack doesn’t judge. When he fancies someone…” Ianto trailed off with a shrug. “It’s who he is, I knew that when I got involved with him. I shouldn’t get pissed when he turns out to be exactly as described on the tin.”
“It was a last kiss for a dying man, Ianto.” Tosh squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I wasn’t there for a lot of the time they talked, but I got the gist of it.” Tosh made a face as she tried to figure out how to name the other man. She was already neck-deep in business she didn’t really belong in, but she just couldn’t find a way to give up the little bit of himself Jack had shared with her. Not because she wanted to hoard away that piece of Jack for herself, but simply because it was Jack’s story to share or not. However, that still left her with the problem of describing the scene to Ianto. She bit her nail for a second before explaining, “Oddly enough, the other guy was named Jack as well. And, well, I have no idea how this came up, but our Jack realized that he was gay. He was gay and American and in the military and in the 1940’s. And he was about to die having never been able to be honest with himself or anyone else. Jack couldn’t let him go to his grave never having the kind of love and acceptance that everyone wants for at least one moment in their lives.”
Ianto nodded. He understood. Or at least he thought he had until Owen had planted that miserable little seed of doubt. “I understand. Thank you for caring for him enough to come up here and make me listen.”
Tosh leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s a little out of sorts for a few days. I didn’t want you to think it was something you’d done.” She stood up and slid the crate under the table. “You should go home soon. It’s pretty late.” With that she was back down the stairs. A few seconds later he heard her shouting her good-byes through the Hub. When he looked over the railing, Owen was, for some undiscernable reason, glaring up at him. It left him wondering what he’d done now.
He was starting to get a headache. He knew Owen had been aiming for his own weak spot - his concern that Jack still didn’t trust him, still didn’t want him for anything more than a cup of coffee and a quick screw at the end of the day. He knew that Owen had been trying to be cruel, to keep his emotions overriding his sense. But there was still that niggling doubt. What Tosh had said made sense. Was Jack simply trying to offer just a bit of comfort to a man he knew was going to die? To someone he couldn’t have any further relations with? Or had he been, as Owen had implied, simply been Jack being Jack? Always on the prowl?
He didn’t even hear Owen or Gwen leave. He wasn’t aware of anything outside his own whirling thoughts until Jack was suddenly right there asking something about the coffee.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Ianto looked up at him, confused. Not sure how to approach Jack. He knew Tosh had probably told him more than she was supposed to have, and he didn’t want to get Jack pissed at her, but at the same time it left him at a complete loss for how to deal with him.
“I asked if the coffee was fresh,” Jack repeated.
“Uh… um, it was about an hour ago. I can put on a new pot if you like.” Ianto stood and headed for the coffee machine again.
Jack caught his arm. “It’s fine.” Jack tapped the glass carafe with his finger, assuring that it was still hot. He poured coffee into two of the mugs Ianto had taken down earlier. He handed one over to Ianto. “You okay?”
Ianto straightened his spine and his jacket. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
Jack smiled. “I’m okay. Why don’t we take these downstairs?”
Ianto nodded and followed Jack to his office where they sat side by side on the sofa.
They sat for several minutes, sipping their coffee, the fingers of their near hands interlaced. Once the coffee was gone, Jack no longer had a distraction, so he shifted enough to see Ianto’s face. “I need to tell you something about what happened to me back there.”
Ianto stiffened. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not that Jack seemed about to share with him what Tosh had already told him. Part of him wanted to say that he already knew so that he wouldn’t have to have Jack’s voice going through his head explaining how he’d kissed a man he’d just met.
Ianto stomped back down on that little green-eyed fucker who was making his night so damn miserable. Tosh had explained. Jack was about to be completely above board with him. Why did this hurt so much?
Ianto listened, nodding at the right places as Jack explained the whole thing to him. About needing a different name, about taking Jack Harkness’, about the real Jack taking such a chance for someone in his time, about how he knew the real Jack was going to die and that he needed him to know that someone accepted him for who he was.
It was as Tosh had said. Ianto knew he should have felt better. Felt relieved that Jack wasn’t hiding what had happened. That Jack had felt solid in his convictions that giving that man a little peace was exactly the right thing to do. God knew Ianto understood following his convictions to do the right thing even if it wasn’t what most people would perceive as ‘good.’ He’d just shot a teammate to follow his own beliefs. He could have killed him. If he’d been a few inches off in his aim, if the bullet had moved up into Owen’s neck…
Jack kissed a man. Made him feel good one last time before he was going to die. It was so wrong of him to feel betrayed. He knew that. He knew exactly what he was signing on for when he starting sleeping with Captain Jack Harkness. His version of Captain Jack Harkness.
When Jack seemed to have finished talking Ianto made some kind of polite noise about being there if Jack needed anything and then gathered up the coffee cups and bolted back to his small haven in the kitchenette.
He was running the sink, waiting for the water to get hot so he could do the washing up, when he felt Jack’s hands on his shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” Jack whispered in his ear. “I meant it when I said that I didn’t do it to hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
Ianto hung his head and made himself busy with dropping the stopper into the sink and squirting dish soap into the water stream. He didn’t even remember Jack saying that. There’d been so much other gibbering in his own head by the time he’d been able to escape Jack’s office. “I know, Jack. I really do understand. I don’t know why -“ he wrestled internally with his words. He didn’t want to admit to Jack that he was jealous. Jealous of both Tosh and this other Jack. Jack had spent the day stuck in the past not knowing if he’d make it home or not and he was having a hissy because Jack had kissed a dying man.
Jack had been nothing but honest with him. He knew Jack deserved the same. “I don’t know why this is getting under my skin. I know I shouldn’t feel like this. I’m sorry.”
Jack slid his hands down Ianto’s back and around his waist hugging him from behind. One hand reached up to tap off the faucet before the suds could overflow the sink and then slid back to rest flat on Ianto’s stomach. “Owen was wrong,” he said quietly.
Ianto blinked at the non sequitor. “I know. I tried to stop him - I shot -“
“That wasn’t what I meant.” Jack’s voice was still low and Ianto could feel his breath on his ear now. “You aren’t ‘just the teaboy’. And you sure as hell aren’t ‘a part-time shag.’”
Ianto dropped the mug he’d grabbed into the wash water as he turned to face Jack, his eyes wide. He couldn’t imagine Owen having told Jack about that argument.
“I saw the CCTV footage. I…” Jack shrugged and gave him a slightly guilty grin. “I wanted to see you shoot him.”
Ianto backed up until he was against the sink for the second time that night. “You what?”
“Well,” Jack corrected himself, “I wanted to see what had led up to it. Not that I don’t think you have the courage to follow through on your promises; I absolutely do. But I had to see what the hell pushed you that far. If he’d said those things about me?” Jack continued, “I would have aimed -“ he cut himself off before he said something he mostly wouldn’t mean. “- somewhere else. And I would have done it a lot sooner.”
Ianto sighed and went to wrap his arms around Jack before realizing he was still covered in soap suds. He turned back and forth, looking for a tea towel.
“Fuck it, Ianto,” Jack said with a soft smile. He pulled Ianto’s wet hands around him and hugged him in return. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a pretty shitty day, all said. How about we go downstairs and put on a movie or something and crawl into bed together?”
Ianto leaned his head on Jack’s shoulder, taking pleasure in the fact that Jack was there and the hellacious day was over and that they still had this. “Why don’t you go find something? I’m going to finish up in here and I’ll be down directly.”
Jack pulled back and kissed him long and hard. “I’ll be waiting,” he said softly.
At the end of the day, really, that was all Ianto needed to know.