A/N: This was written for Lady Clark of Books birthday post-a-thon, so happy birthday! The BBC owns Torchwood, I only own the mistakes. This is my first attempt at an all-dialogue fic, so I hope it'll be OK. It contains reference to my fic Cold Feet, but you don't have to read it to understand the story. It also contains references that only a few people will understand, but it's nothing too confusing.

Paring: Jack/Gwen

Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

"Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"Jack? Are you awake?"

"I am now. What time is – bloody hell, it's four in the morning, Gwen. What's the matter?"

"Nothing's wrong. Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Why?"

"Gwen, I'm afraid my brain doesn't switch on for a couple hours. Why what?"

"Why do you love me? You do love me, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"Then why?"

"For your smile, and that cute little gap in your teeth. For your sexy accent, the way you don't need make-up to make yourself look beautiful. Your loving nature, your never leave a man behind approach, your personality, your leadership skills...your other skills. Everything."

"I love you to."

"Anything else?"

"…When did you first realise you loved me?"

"Err, I don't really know. I knew there was something special about you when we first met, and it was confirmed when you tracked us down again after we made you forget."

"You let me track you down."

"I may not have done everything I could to have prevented it, but I wanted a reason to ask you to join the team. There were plenty of moments when I wanted to pin you to my desk and screw you senseless, but I guess I realised I loved you when the beast Abaddon attacked Cardiff, and you were the one that brought me back. I thought you were an angel, then I remembered I couldn't die."

"But Jack, that was years ago. Why didn't you tell me you loved me sooner?"

"I was going to, but then you told me you and Rhys were getting married. I committed suicide three times that night. I realised I had to tell you before the two of you tied the knot, so I did the only thing I could. I crashed the wedding."

"My mother still hasn't forgiven me for that – Captain Jack Harkness, the Wedding Crasher."

"Well I had to do something. I couldn't let you marry him. I guess I just never told you because…I was scared."

"Scared of what?"

"I don't know. Lots of things. I've loved before, Gwen, and none of those times have ended well. I guess I just didn't want that to happen. I was also scared for you – and for me."

"Why?"

"I've seen things and experienced things that no one else should. I didn't want to burden you with those. My life is dangerous, Gwen – just working at Torchwood is, but I didn't want to put you into anymore unnecessary danger. Of course, I now realise that you can do that all by yourself, but it didn't seem fair to involve you in something that wasn't your fault. Like John Hart for example."

"Are you still scared?"

"No. I've learnt what to expect from you now."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"I bet I can still scare you."

"Good luck."

"Good, because it's time."

"Time for what?"

"It's time, Jack. The baby's coming!"

"Shit!"

"Scared you, I win."

"Damn right you did. Are you OK? Come on, we have to go!"

"I'm fine, and we still have to - Ow!"

"Contraction?"

"Yeah, but I-"

"Gwen Harkness, if you don't get your ass out of bed right now I'll have Owen deliver the baby."

"Oh God, no! Do you remember what happened when I asked him to babysit my cousin Paula's girl?"

"Only too well. Now get a move on."

"Ow! Coming!"