"You will recall that I hate flying," said a pale-faced Ianto as he reached across Jack to close the window.
"My vortex manipulator isn't the Doctor's TARDIS," chuckled Jack as he pushed the shade back up. He looked out the window, "My how industrious you humans are! These things were mere toys just less than a century ago – one could barely depend on it to get from London to Manchester without nearly getting killed. Now you fly across the planet in a matter of hours." He stared out at the cotton ball clouds cloaked in setting sunlight and sighed, "You'd be farther out in space by now if your governments weren't so afraid of death. But in time, in time . . ." his voice drifted as if remembering something better kept to oneself.
Gwen peeked over the seat set ahead of Jack's. "Well, Rhys is in a worse condition than you are, Ianto," she said while patting the seat next to her. "I don't think he has spent more than 5 minutes in this seat."
Suddenly, Rhys appeared carrying a wine glass, "Whooha, you wouldn't believe how big this place is!" He took a big gulp, "Typically, I'm a warm bitters man but this Israeli wine is brilliant!"
"I thought you were feeling woozy," asked an incredulous Gwen.
"Ah, this find fit bird offered me a glass . . . said it would calm my stomach and whadaya know, she was right! Smooth as a baby's bottom!" He rubbed his belly then started to take another gulp but flinched sheepishly, remembering that this pregnant wife was not able to enjoy and not sure if it was okay he did.
"Rhys Williams! You're pissed," she said nearly giggling. "Come sit down before you make a mess of yourself."
He complied and sank comfortably in his seat the other side of a shaky Ianto just as turbulence shook the plane slightly. Rhys glanced up briefly as Ianto rushed past him on the way to the washroom, "Hey, Ianto!" he called out raising his nearly empty glass, "You should try this stuff!" In his urgency to avoid shame and insure his blue suit remained pristine, Ianto increased his pace, nearly knocking down an eager steward smiling slyly at Jack and carrying a tray with an extra special vintage.
Of course, Jack took notice of the slight, young frame, come-hither emerald green eyes and aqua fresh whitened teeth. Jack offered his classic sidelong glance, seemingly answering the young man's call. And as the man bent down, his Clariol blonde streaked curls brushing lightly across his forehead, he placed the bottle of Gewurztraminer, 2009 from the Upper Galilee on the counter next to Jack, one glass next to it. He opened the bottle, his eyes half hooded, never leaving Jack's lips, obviously wishing he was the wine glass. Jack too was enjoying the exchange, wondering briefly about the gold ring clinching the steward's left finger.
"Compliments of the crew, Mr. Harkness," purred the steward as he poured. Jack looked just behind the young man, noting the gaggle of female flight attendants giggling just around the corner. Hoping to regain Jack's attention, the steward increased his flirtation, "An off dry, very aromatic white, known for having a delicate sweetness and good balance."
Jack's smile increased slightly. "It's Captain," he said reaching to the young man's hand before it left the bottle. "Captain Jack Harkness, . . . 'Tim'," he said reading the badge.
Tim smiled brightly, like a child awaiting a favored toy. "The card on the tray has information on the wine, Captain Harkness." He reached down and turned the brochure panel over, "and how to get more of it." He stood fully, thinking to give Jack a fuller view of his firm bulge then walked away making sure his weeks in the gym didn't go to waste either.
Jack noticed. Gwen noticed Jack lick his lips. She sat up, turning around in her seat, "Jack!"
"What?" he tried to shrug honestly before shifting further down in his seat.
Gwen shook her head and sat back down on Rhys' behest to help him get the personal entertainment equipment working.
Ianto returned, his face just washed but still pale, to find a half empty bottle of wine and Jack studying a computer screen. Ianto removed his suit jacket, loosened his tie and even unbuttoned his vest, all in an attempt to make the best of the next four hours of flight. Plus, he hated looking like a pansy in front of Jack. "Mmm," he mumbled, his look inquiring.
"I want another look at Aliyah's email," Jack answered, not looking up. Ianto sat then Gwen, who had settled Rhys into his personal inflight movie, came around the to stand by Ianto's seat, ready for some Torchwood action. She leaned forward while Jack clicked some more, "Tosh left me this decode software."
Jack opened an email from a familiar colleague from Torchwood Tel Aviv. Rabbi Aliyah Teelbaum had known Jack since his days as a Time Agent – more of a mother than a friend and never a lover - not that Jack didn't try. The Rabbi was Whoopi Goldberg's wit encased in Hallie Berry's body – but she was an immortal from Jeshurun Prime, a planet settled during Moses' time by Jews who chose to leave with the aliens who brought the Egyptians their pyramid technology. Immortality was a recessive gene on her world, coming from breeding with the planet's aboriginal inhabitants. The blessed were always taken from adolescence and trained in special academies, their other talents fine-tuned then used for the benefit of Jewish people around the galaxy. This was a woman always on a mission and although she adored Jack and had helped Torchwood Cardiff many times in the past, she always felt more parental than sexual toward him. Plus, she was a good 600 years his senior and such temptation felt to her like cradle robbing.
"Why send us something in code?" asked Ianto.
"That's what I'm hoping to find out." Jack kept tapping when the screen transformed itself, Window's Player coming on the screen. Gwen looked around, checking the location of the other passengers. Ianto pulled something from his breast pocket and handed it to Jack. "A sound scrambler," Ianto looked sheepishly between his alien crime fighting partners, "another something Tosh left us. I figured it would come in handy at some point." Jack smiled, grateful that he had such an efficient partner.
Ianto placed the device near the laptop and Jack started the video. Aliyah, dressed casually in beige linen pants and blouse, her small dark braids falling just past her shoulders, began speaking almost immediately. "Hello, Gwen and Jack. Ianto, glad to see you! I hope Jack is treating you well," she said winking as if the two of them shared some special secret. Briefly Ianto blushed as Jack frowned – she had always encouraged their relationship, feeling (correctly in Gwen and Rhys' minds) that Ianto brought some semblance of stability into Jack's life. It hadn't been long ago that Aliyah thought she'd convinced Jack to marry Ianto but dealings with 4-5-6 interrupted things. Through emails from Gwen, Aliyah learned of men's tense break up, including months of silent hostility, unprecedented since Lisa's death. Ianto felt convinced he was alone in his feelings and Jack didn't know how to tell him otherwise. Their reconciliation wasn't quite complete when Torchwood received Aliyah's unexpected invitation to come to Tel Aviv. It was presented as a holiday but they all knew it was something different.
"I hope that the Hub reconstruction went well and the parts I sent you were useful upgrades," Aliyah continued. "But, I will cut the niceties until I see you all." She paused a moment and looked downward, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. "I need your help. The Institute has received some credible intel that could ignite this powder keg of a region and threaten the lives of Jews across the galaxy."
"This must be grave," Jack said grimly. "Aliyah usually doesn't talk in those terms." The others nodded.
"I have consulted with The Doctor and he is going to do what he can from where he is," Aliyah continued, "people on my home planet are working their end while the staff at the Institute will also be at our disposal but this thing may be bigger than them . . . maybe even bigger than all of us." Aliyah's current partner, Sarah, entered the room and sat next to her. Sarah, who resembled a blonde Amazon mob assassin, looked grim – also not a good sign. "Gwen, I know you're in your 5th month and I'm going to do my best to keep you out of harm's way but I figured you'd rather be in thick of it instead of watching the apocalypse on the evening news."
"And Rhys wouldn't let me go without him," smiled Gwen.
"And if things get really bad," Aliyah continued, "I've got a safe house for all of you on Perturbatio. I believe Ianto enjoyed the coffee on the intergalactic sky liner that goes there." She winked and Ianto blushed again, embarrassed he had told her of Jack and his adventures with the spotted skinned barista.
"I don't think I've seen Aliyah this frightened," responded Jack. "She normally doesn't joke like this."
The video continued. "I won't say much more but know this – you are being watched. I don't think they'll do anything mid-flight but be careful, watch what you eat and drink." Gwen's eyes widened and dashed over to Rhys, who was obliviously but safely watching "Transformers 3". She nodded back at Jack – he would taste test everything for the rest of the flight. "Sarah will meet you at the airport and bring you to me when I will offer more details. Until then, watch yourselves." The video ended.
Suddenly, Jack found himself wondering if Tim the Married Flight Attendant's attention stemmed from Jack's winning smile.
It will be good to see Aliyah again. I hope she isn't disappointed though. Jack has made overtures but I am thinking that whatever I felt for him before has faded. Funny, I can forgive him for killing Lisa but not for withholding the existence of daughter and grandson – of his complicity in the 456's original landing. He underestimates me. He'll share the funny stories, the stories of wild adventures or cute antidotes during his journeys with The Doctor, even a wild exploit with some alien lovely. But when it comes to the hard stuff, the things that matter, he's as elusive as a ghost in a windstorm. I know he's done bad things . . . some really bad things probably. Why can't he just tell me? Why do I have to pull it out of him like some archeological dig or wait until it's fallen on my lap?
"Using an iPad now?" asked Jack pretending nonchalant as he glanced across the Jerusalem Post. "I thought you liked the hard cover feeling of a book journal."
Night had fallen and most of the other passengers, including Gwen and Rhys, were trying to preempt jet lag by getting some sleep. Even in the lowered light, Jack's blue eyes sparkled. "I lost the others in the explosion," replied Ianto as he leaned his seat back further. "This way I can save it to the Torchwood server." He looked up again, hoping Jack would give an encouraging glance. He didn't say anything either.
Ianto went back to writing.
Who am I fooling! It's not that I don't love him but because of it that I can't reach past this abyss between us – not that he is trying much either. He has not so much as patted my ass since the whole 456 thing started. When I nearly died of that poison gas, he revived me but never said how (and all I can remember of it was this strange taste in my mouth; I would swear it was blood but not mine). He told Gwen that he had an antidote but I doubt it. I was dead – I saw that beautiful white light that everyone talks about – I saw my mum and dad. It was mum that told me to go back. Dad said nothing but then again he never had anything to say to me anyway.
"I'll be back," Jack said while getting up and walking past Ianto.
It wasn't long after Hub 2 was finished that he began to go out at night again, like he did before we were together. He never brought back anyone though; I was there late enough to know that. Didn't matter. I've thought about dating again too but who would measure up to the sexist creature across two galaxies?
"Can I get you a blanket, sir?" asked Married Flight Attendant Tim who seemed to appear from nowhere.
"No, thank you. I believe I have enough covers, thank you."
Ianto wouldn't have looked up but something told him that the strange smell he detected was gunpowder. He saw the small weapon's silencer poking out from under the white blanket and had enough time to wonder how this young man was going to shoot him and not soil the 1200 thread count Egyptian weave blanket before the young man collapsed on the floor by his feet.
Smugly, Jack Harkness stood just behind the assailant's limp body holding his Webly. "The wine tasted funny, so I went to the bathroom and tested it." He pulled out poison kit with the words "Property of the Torchwood Institute" stamped on what looked like something from the 1940s. "I didn't realize I still had thing old thing!"
"Thanks," Ianto stood up. "I'd better get the sky marshal," he said trying to move over the body and around Jack without being drawn like a moth to the flame.
"He's in economy, seat 4F," said Jack, "I really wish the Americans would give their people better disguises."
Ianto nodded affirmatively, still attempting to maneuver away and resist the smell of Jack's pheromones, which had tempted him before, but were now pulling him in like an U.S.S. Enterprise tractor beam. Then suddenly, Jack grabbed Ianto's elbow in a characteristically firm manner. He does everything like that, Ianto would later write, he commands you more than leads-and oh how willingly I obey.
"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," said Jack.
Ianto looked him in the eye for the first time in months. "I know," he whispered.
Jack cupped Ianto's cheek and pulled his face to his until their foreheads touched. He closed his eyes then sighed deeply. "I know you're still angry with me . . . still waiting for some sort of apology, an explanation." He felt Ianto's body relent slightly and took that opportunity to pull him closer, brushing his lips against Ianto's ear, "Maybe after this is all over, we'll go on holiday or something." When Ianto didn't say anything, Jack pulled back and looked into the eyes of the still cautious younger man, uncharacteristically searching for reassurance. Ianto smiled slightly and Jack knew, for the first time in months, that they would be okay.
Later, when they got back to their seats, Ianto wrote in his diary, I joined the mile high club today. Which was a good thing too as months of celibacy had made Jack quite ravenous.