Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, nor do I own the title which is from Peter Pan.
Authors Notes: This is a cheer-up fic for lonelyangel_x. Hope you're feeling better, sweetheart.
Second Star To The Right
Despite the sun having gone down several hours ago earlier, the night was still warm. It was one of those perfect summer nights, one where the stars shine unhindered by clouds and the air is full of the smell of freshly cut and watered grass, following the heavy thunderstorms that had descended upon Cardiff the previous night, taking the hot, humid air with it. A light breeze occasionally drifted across them, not cold enough to warrant wearing more than a light jacket but strong enough to prevent them wishing for the rain to return. If Ianto strained his ears he could hear the quiet thrum of traffic, but it was far enough away to appear to be a dream.
In reality, though, Ianto knew that this was more dreamlike than the traffic. If he hadn't pinched himself earlier- he'd deliberately waited until Jack's back had been turned before doing this- then he would have thought he was dreaming.
The last week had been hectic, manic even, with barely a moment spare to eat, drink or rest. But, for now at least, it was over. The Weevils were all locked in their cells or safely out of sight in the sewers, the Rift had stopped spitting out pink toasters and green gerbils with vampire-like teeth, and that medieval knight and his skinny squire had been relocated and successfully integrated into the Cardiff population.
But none of those things mattered now. All that mattered was the two of them here, lying on a hill, several miles from Cardiff, just watching the stars. Well, Ianto was watching the stars, joining the dots up to form pictures as the moon slowly ascended across the sky. If he squinted his eyes, a small cluster of stars directly above him and to the left looked a bit like the square, alien music box that was Tosh's latest project and a larger, more scattered group were in the vague shape of what would be the world's wonkiest heart. He smiled, remembering Gwen bouncing into the Hub last week, high on the memory of a great night with Rhys and coffee, having stopped off at Starbucks with Tosh for a gossip and a muffin on the way in.
Turning his head away from the heart, Ianto surveyed the pattern of stars on his right-hand side. He stared at one particularly large cluster for several seconds before forcing himself to blink and giving himself a mental shake of the head. It didn't work, the pattern remained. He was definitely in need of a holiday if he could see Weevils in the stars. Perhaps Owen had had a point when he'd said Ianto needed to cut his coffee intake and get some proper sleep for once.
Jack didn't see the Weevil, or any other pictures in the stars- he was much more interested in playing with one of the buttons on Ianto's shirt, having already undone Ianto's waistcoat.
Neither of them felt the urge to move. They were perfectly content to just lie there, Ianto on his back, one arm behind his head and the other on Jack's back as he lay peacefully with his head on Ianto's shoulder, his fingers toying with Ianto's shirt. They didn't feel the need to speak either, not when Ianto saw a shooting star go flying right through the middle of the heart or when Jack finally grew bored of playing with Ianto's shirt, instead loosening enough buttons so he could slide his hand underneath the pink silk before resting it on the warm skin of Ianto's stomach.
Tonight was one of those nights that Ianto knew he would remember forever, one he would think of every time he felt a warm breeze on his face or saw stars shining from his bedroom window. He would remember this night on the days that never ended and when he needed to remember why they all risked so much doing what they do.
Ianto knew they would have to go back eventually- back to conference fights with UNIT, back to placating a supposedly extinct dinosaur with chocolate and steak, back to all the despair, terror and exhilaration that came with being a Torchwood operative- but for now, for tonight, Ianto could forget all that. Tonight they weren't Captain Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones- protectors of the human race. Tonight they were just Jack and Ianto, lying on a hill, several miles outside of Cardiff, tracing patterns in the stars.
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