The Space Between
The Space Between
"Sir." One little word, three letters, one syllable and yet Ianto could pack a universe of meaning into it.
Jack paused his angry pacing for a moment and looked out through the glass as the door alarm sounded Gwen's departure. He did not meet his lover's eyes. It was not as if he hadn't known he was wrong the moment he opened his mouth. Ianto didn't deserve to be talked to like that, and certainly not in front of Gwen. Jack knew his attitude towards sex was a bit casual, but not that casual, not with Ianto. He was angry, frustrated and he used the most direct method he could think of to get rid of her. It didn't make it any less wrong. The mood was shattered anyway. He sighed, resigned and began to search the hothouse floor for his shirt and braces, not wanting to meet the look of disappointment in those blue eyes. He was certain in the knowledge that he had failed him, again. Nor did Jack want to show him the anger that he felt. It wasn't Ianto's fault that Gwen wouldn't leave it, and he didn't want to make things any worse. Jack never should speak to the younger man like that in front of someone else, no matter how frustrated he, might be.
"As you said, we have work to do.." Ianto's voice was almost emotionless as he turned toward the door.
"Can I at least have some of your special coffee?" he asked quietly, leaning against the table. As he watched, Ianto finished buttoning up his shirt. The younger man nodded and left. Jack stood, noting with a small glimmer of hope the jacket and tie hanging carelessly from the corner of the potting table. Finding his shirt damp in the corner, he pulled it over his head with disgust and headed out to his office feeling old and tired.
Why was it so hard, this balancing act? Trying to walk a tightrope between telling them what they needed to know and protecting them? Of course Ianto knew, and he wanted him to tell her. He was the one who helped Jack with it all, helped him bury the paperwork and cover their tracks. He meant it; there was nothing they could do, not now, not unless Tosh could find a way to predict the negative rift spikes. Until then all they could was care for them, the refugees that the rift chose to throw back. He went out there when a new one turned up, but never told the rest of the team, never took anyone with him, even Ianto. It was his duty, his penance.
His thoughts were dark and disjointed and he didn't want to be alone with them. It took a lot of work to keep himself out of that place; a certain amount of help came from the young man who meant more to him that he had words to tell. Besides, he needed to rebuild at least one bridge tonight, keep the promise he made to himself when he came back. "Don't let it drift," he had told Gwen, and he decided it was good advice. It wasn't a life outside of Torchwood, but it was what he wanted and as close as either he or Ianto were going to get. He had been wrong to use his relationship that way. He knew it. Ianto knew it. Hell, Gwen probably knew it; and that irritated him. Jack needed him, it was that simple.
Ianto poured a couple of cups of coffee in the kitchen and considered what he was going to do when he went back. He knew what Jack was doing, probably better than Jack did. Jack was doing what he always did, using what he knew about people to push them away. He had gotten better, much better, and Gwen pushed back, even after Ianto had more or less told her to let him handle it. Jack was a good leader most of the time, but he was still learning when it came to dealing with emotions. Still, Ianto knew that he had gotten the message. He had seen it in those eyes in the hothouse, avoiding his look, as close to embarrassed as it was possible for Jack to be. He would let him hang a little bit, until Jack was ready to talk and to listen.
Ianto was preparing his own cup when his phone went off. Cursing to himself for misplacing his earpiece, he grabbed his mobile before Jack could hear it. He knew who was on the other end without even looking. After all, sometimes if his lover wouldn't do the right thing, then he had to do it for him. As Jack had told him once, it is sometimes easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. This was one of them.
"Hello," he said into the phone, trying to balance everything. Gwen, as he knew it would be.
"You left me that package, didn't you?" Gwen said without preamble. Ianto juggled the phone and the mug, trying to figure out how to get rid of her. After all, he had done his part. He heard Jack call his name in the background.
"I don't know what you mean," he said, hoping she would just leave it. I should have known better, he thought bitterly. He had done enough; the rest was up to her.
"Ianto, what's going on?"
"Goodnight, Gwen," he said as he snapped the phone closed cutting off any further questions. His denial was unconvincing at best, but she wasn't going to listen to him and he wasn't going to get anymore involved than he already had. He had other things to deal with after all.
"Ianto," Jack called out realizing even as he said it how irritated and edgy he sounded. God, this relationship thing was complicated, and he was out of practice. "Ianto", he called again, trying for something a little lighter. He wondered briefly whether he had driven him away with his anger and callousness. But he knew better: it wasn't the way the other man did things. Ianto was too reliable for that, in spite of the coldness that opened in his stomach. Then he saw him, mug in each hand hurrying across the Hub.
Jack stood by the door, smiling in relief as he accepted the cup and gestured for Ianto to make himself comfortable. He took a big sip of coffee and smiled in gratitude.
"Paperwork?" Ianto asked blandly, deliberately neglecting the "sir". But Jack waved him off, trying to fit the words together. It wasn't easy. Isolating himself, keeping his own council was not only lonely, it was ineffective with the dysfunctional group he led. This team meant so much to him, especially the young man sitting in front of his desk, as habitually alone as he was..
"Ianto, I'm sorry," he said in one breath, trying to get it all out at once.
"For what, sir?"
Damn him, Jack thought. Ianto was going to make him spell it out. Is this some kind of special punishment for being so careless? Jack wondered but he knew he pretty well deserved it.
"For the way I talked to you out there. I just…I was angry and I wanted..."
"You wanted to make her go away without having to discuss things further, so you played on her shame and sense of decorum," Ianto said, voice still carefully neutral.
"Yes."
"And if she had followed you, followed us?"
"I didn't think that far," he admitted. "I let it get to me, I tried 'Captain knows best' and it backfired, again."
"Might want to reconsider that tactic," Ianto said mildly.
"Yep," he said, mirroring the other man's dry response.
"Why not tell her?"
Jack looked down at him, startled. He didn't want a fight with Ianto too, but the other man's face showed no judgment, just a question. Suddenly, the anger just drained out of him and he sat down heavily on the desk in front of Ianto.
"Knowing wouldn't make it any better, not when we can't fix them, can't make it stop happening, or get them all back." Jack looked down at his hands, not wanting the other man to see how helpless he felt and how much he hated the feeling. "You have never asked."
"No," Ianto said softly. "I don't need to. I see you when you come back and that's enough."
"Sorry. It is my burden. I took the responsibility. No one else needs that."
"Jack." The younger man stood, hand reaching out reassuringly. Jack leaned into the touch, accepting the comfort he was being offered, though he felt undeserving. "Just don't shut everyone out again, don't shut me out."
Jack nodded resting his head against Ianto, enjoying the understanding. He was not stupid enough not to recognize the chance he was being given, again.. After a moment he felt the soft hand cup his chin and he looked up. "Hmmmm?"
"And next time, I decide where we finish up. Not sure the cleaners can get these…alien grass stains out."
"Deal, now about that paperwork?" Jack said, happier than he had been since Gwen had interrupted them.
"Later. I believe we had something else we needed to finish first, sir." One tiny word, but in the mouth of the right person, three letters could say it all.