Disclaimer: All characters belong to the BBC and RTD.

Author's Note: I have been using songs, either the lyrics or titles, to help inspire me to write some stories recently, you don't need to know the songs or the lyrics, they've just been a prompt to get me started. This idea got stuck in my head, and although I liked the idea it was a lot tougher to execute than I thought and I'm still not certain I'm happy with it – but I had to get it down so I could move on to something else.

Everywhere I Am, There You'll Be

Jack sat in his cabin aboard the intergalactic cruiser, that was taking him to the Saeron System. Idly he rotated a computer chip between his fingers, occasionally tapping it idly on the desk before him, debating whether to play the contents.

He knew it would leave him sad and melancholy for the remainder of the journey, knew that it would send his thoughts miles away and years ago – back to when he lived on Earth, in the depths of rainy Wales, but it had been so long now since he'd seen that face.

Finally with a frustrated sigh, he gave in and slid the chip into the monitor.

/\\

"Hey Jack,"instantly a young face filled the screen, blue eyes filled with mirth, "It's me, Ianto. Ianto Jones."

Jack smiled to himself, a hundred years had passed, and though there had been others, many others, there was still no way he'd need an introduction to that face. He doubted he ever would.

"So... you might not remember, but tonight we had a conversation in which you were inordinately worried that you would forget me after I... bit the dust."

A pause.

"Which I'm guessing I have now. Sorry about that. I hope it was something exciting though, wouldn't want to have been crushed by something falling off a shelf in the archives – that would have been, well, a bit pathetic really. And messy. I hope I died tidily. If it was something exciting though, don't beat yourself up over it, like I bet you have been doing, I love my job Jack, even the terrifying, brink of death moments we so often face, and to be honest, if I died at work, doing something good, then I really can't think of a better way to go."

Ianto fought to lift his voice to an upbeat tone.

"If I did get squashed by something in the archives, disregard everything I have just said and berate my corpse for its stupidity!"

Jack choked back a strangled half laugh, half sob. For years he had been haunted at night by the memories of Ianto's still body in his arms, as he begged to be remembered while facing his swift death at the hands of the 456. Now, time had passed and he was less inclined to think of those days but the implicit reminder in Ianto's words still made his heart ache. It was a month after his death that Jack had first seen this recording filled with grief and regret, now, years later, he knew almost every word the Welshman spoke by heart. He still almost smiled thinking back on Ianto's fear that he had would be forgotten – there had never been any danger of that, even without the recording.

"I know I'm stealing Tosh's idea by doing this – and really I wanted to write you a letter, I'm much better at this stuff in writing," his expression was almost embarrassed, "but I thought that if you wanted to keep this, you don't have to!... But if... then this would be less, well, destructible. And so here's some little things that might slip your mind now and then."

A shy grin spread across Ianto's face, and Jack's heart swelled at the sight of it. It was an expression he had seen all too rarely in life, his face had been so often creased with stress and worry, but in death Jack had seen it displayed across screens a thousand times. If Ianto had said nothing more, the recording would still have been perfect – just for containing that.

"So here we go, I'm Ianto Jones, I was born in Cardiff in 1981, which explains the accent. I speak both Welsh and English, however as far as I know, despite living in Cardiff for over a hundred years, the Welsh language is still a mystery to you. In fact Owen and you used to complain it wasn't a real language – just a massive, countrywide in-joke that the Welsh played on tourists. This is not true."

The shy smile had briefly given way to a look of stern disapproval.

" I have a sister, Rhiannon who is married to an idiot with whom she has two children who are often glued to the TV but are secretly rather sweet... when they're asleep. I grew up with my Mum and Dad. My Dad worked for Debenham's though I once told you his was a tailor purely to give me the opportunity for inside seam related innuendo...And some more recreational use of a tape measure. Although I'm still not sure what you did to the numbers on it."

Jack still laughed aloud every time he heard that.

"Things I like: well coffee obviously, making it, drinking it, you could almost call me the Coffee King, even though Owen never would! I prefer my coffee black, but not as strong as yours, and I like to put hazelnut syrup in. You probably don't need to know that, I don't let you make me coffee now, you're unlikely to want to make me it if I'm... well... dead... Sorry. Again."

Ianto looked flustered for a moment, and Jack could see him fighting to regain his train of thought.

I like listening to music, and at the moment my favourite song is Run by Snow Patrol, don't worry I'm not going to try and sing it I've stuck the MP3 on here for you. Your favourite song right now is Moonlight Serenade, by Glenn Miller – and the MP3 for that is on here too. We've danced to it around the hub before, remember? I know you think I have deleted all the CCTV footage - in fact you moaned that you might want to watch it someday , but we don't need Gwen finding that, however the backup copy is on here too, y'know, just in case. "

There was a quick, oh so sexy wink, then he paused, the troubled frown Jack remembered so well creasing his forehead. He muttered softly under his breath, and Jack could lipread him debate his silliness, and sigh before lifting his head to carry on. Jack ached to hold and reassure this echo of Ianto, let him know that he appreciated the effort he had gone to.

"I really like James Bond films, particularly Sean Connery, though of course you prefer Daniel Craig. My favourite is You Only Live Twice, because any time we watch it I can try and persuade you to invest in a Torchwood helicopter, I know none of us would be able to fly it initially, but I'd put the hours in to learn! You like Casino Royale because apparently Daniel Craig's abs are spectacular. Things I don't like..."

Again, a thoughtful pause.

"I don't like ice cream, it's too cold and it gives me a headache. Gwen made me eat it in London when we went to see Wales play rugby at Twickenham, because apparently "no one can hate ice cream". Well I do. It is a pointless food and I'd rather have coffee, at least its only the lack of that that gives me a headache."

Jack loved that Ianto's video had turned into an anti ice cream rant. It meant he could remember the look of absolute disgust Ianto had perfected and enjoy watching those expressive eyebrows once more.

"I don't like watching Daniel Craig with you – honestly Jack! No one wants to be second best to someone with abs like that. And another thing, should you watch it with any other lovers down the line, for the love of God, don't pause the DVD! No one needs that blow to their ego."

Ianto laughed then, his "I'm just messing" laugh, and his face lit up with a huge grin, one that Jack tried to match, even as the tears streamed down his face unchecked. Then as swiftly as a cloud passing over the sun, his face darkened and his eyes filled with sorrow.

"There's only one thing that I hate at the moment Jack, and that's this. I hate that you're watching this and that I'm gone. A part of me hopes that you are watching this, a hundred years from now because you've forgotten my face and after you turn this off there will be someone there for you Jack, because I hate the idea of you being alone. Another part of me will be unbelievably jealous that I'm no longer the one that makes you smile when, well you know... But if I'm gone Jack then don't try to use that as a reason to not get close to anyone else. I understand it might be hard, believe me I understand, but it's ok to move on. I'm really happy with you Jack, happier than I've ever been. I love our dates, sporadic though they are, I love weevil hunting... and weevil hunting... I even secretly quite enjoy naked hide and seek – even if you cheat, and I want you to have that with someone else, because I really, really hope that I've made you happy too."

There was a pause here, the longest pause on the video, and Jack watched Ianto swallow forcibly, his eyes shining with what looked suspiciously like tears.

"I love you Jack. I really do. And its ok if you don't feel the same way, it honestly is. Because I understand that you need me, and you enjoy my company and that you care. But I love you and I really hope that someday I'll pluck up the courage to tell you that – preferably not with my dying breath. I want to tell you when you know that I mean it. I hope that before you listen to this that I've had chance."

There is a noise in the background of the tape, Jack recognised his own voice calling Ianto's name, no doubt in the hunt for some of Ianto's special industrial strength coffee. A look of guilt passed over Ianto's face as he looked for the source of the voice before returning his attention to the camera.

"I have to go – apparently you'd like some coffee. Goodbye Jack and... thank you, for everything. Despite everything, cybermen, daleks, cannibals,the end of the world, because of you I had a blast, and I wouldn't change a single thing."

The screen dimmed and Jack sat for long moment staring vacantly at the screen. He knew that shortly, as he had every time he watched the video that he would look through the many attached photos and video clips while listening to the music files and lose himself in memories of Ianto Jones. But for a moment, he just relished hearing the sound of those beautiful Welsh vowels and internally thanked Ianto for his final gift.

Ianto had been right he realised, there had been others since him, that had held a part of Jack's heart, but that didn't make those brief years in Cardiff any less special. And unlike so many others, their parting hadn't been filled with accusations, anger, or recriminations between them, just a lingering guilt on Jack's part. Ianto, with his usual foresight, had known what was likely to befall him and had taken methodical steps to guard against it as well as reassuring Jack. So, centuries later, thanks to Ianto, Jack carried a little remnant of the Welshman with him. And Jack loved him for it, even now.