A/N Hey all! Hope you enjoy this little fanfic of a fanfic. It's set in what I like to call the Lucyverse, created by happy-rea. Seriously, go read her fic "Lost: Outside my Universe and Beyond the Stars." Just, don't read it for 26 hours straight like I did. As tempting as it probably is, sleep deprivation can be a serious problem - pace yourself. Or not, your choice. But Lucy is awesome, the way happy-rea writes her, you'd think she was created by RTD. I only hope I can do her justice. And happy-rea, thanks so much for letting Lucy join me as I play in the giant Torchwood sandbox that RTD built for us.

Disclaimer: obviously I own nothing

Ianto headed down to the basement of the Hub, to snatch a few stolen moments with Lisa. He'd emptied all the trash cans, cleared the main areas of the hub, scrubbed down the medical bay (again - WHY did Owen have to do such messy experiments on today of all days?), brought coffee round to the rest of the team, and no one would notice his absence for at least an hour or two - until they started having a hard time concentrating on their work from hunger. Then it would be time to order pizza. Again.

Sometimes he thought about maybe just NOT cleaning up after them. Not preparing the coffee, not always being the one to remember the time and make sure there's food so no one made a stupid mistake from poor concentration due to low blood sugar, to remember everyone's favorite pizza toppings - what was the worst that could happen if he spent all his time taking care of the archives? After all, he was the archivist, not the butler, the housekeeper or Jack's personal valet.

It was an idle thought, one he'd never act on. And Lisa was the reason why. A good servant was invisible - and Ianto Jones came from a long line of VERY good servants. As long as he kept the team's basic wants taken care of, no one would ever notice him or wonder where he was. Lisa would be safe. No one would ever come looking for him - to find that he'd taken over the lower basement to hide his partially converted cyber girlfriend.

It had been so hard at first. Before the battle of Canary Wharf, she had been so ALIVE. She was always ready for an adventure, always eager to drag him out of his "comfort zone" and help him to "live a little." She'd taught him to enjoy sleeping under the stars - they'd even shared a sleeping bag after he'd ordered one online - embarrassed to admit to her that he had no idea about "the great outdoors" She took one look at it, correctly guessed which "rubbish American camping website" he'd ordered it from, and teased him for falling for an American sales pitch - all flash, no QUALITY. He could still see her, perched on the top of a ruined castle on that ramble they'd taken on their last holiday from Torchwood One. Two weeks later, the "ghost shift" had… well, there was no point dwelling on that day. Everyone he'd worked with, just about everyone he'd known - gone. Except Lisa.

Except Lisa.

He winced as he reached reached into the inner pocket of his suit for the key that would open the door that led into the chamber where he'd secreted the conversion table - the only way he knew to keep her alive while he tried to find a way to reverse the conversion. As he struggled to slide back the heavy bolt, his back and shoulder screamed in protest, every muscle was sore as if he'd been beaten - but that's just how it was, ever since the Battle of Canary Wharf. He could almost ignore it up above, in the rest of the Hub - where he had his duties and the task of hiding to distract him. Not down here. Down here it was was one more reminder he couldn't set aside of how little he had left of the life of Ianto Jones. He'd lost more than a job, more than his friends and colleagues - he'd also lost the knowledge of what it felt like to move freely, without pain. Almost lost the memory of it. Just one more thing he had to hide, if he was to stay invisible enough for them to leave him be to care for Lisa.

At a touch, the door swung inwards, and Ianto took a deep breath before going in. He'd done the best he could - but was it really enough? Lisa lay suspended in the conversion table, a metal frame around every bit of her still-human body. She was hooked up to half a dozen monitors, it was like walking into the Intensive Care Unit. Every time he came down here, he had to consciously remind himself that she wasn't dying. No, she was just the same as she had ever been - wasn't she? Wasn't she? Apart from being trapped in a metal frame that he had to leave her in because it was keeping her alive.

As the door swung open, Lisa turned her eyes towards him. She smiled at him. A smile for him alone.

"Ianto"

And now, for the first time in hours, his face relaxed into a smile too.

"Lisa - how are you feeling?"

He took her hand in his, leaned around the frame and pressed his lips to her cheek. She turned her head towards him, her lips brushing his.

"Better, now that you're here."

He raised his hand up towards her face - even with these long months of experience, it was still very awkward to move around the frame without jarring himself against it - but to feel her soft cheek against his fingertips… He smiled tenderly down at her.

"Is there anything that you need?"

She gasped in pain, and he quickly increased the flow of the pain medication dripping into the conversion table, where it would flow into her body to hopefully reduce some of the agony from the incomplete conversion.

"I would kill to get out of this bed."

He wept silently. She squeezed his hand forcefully.

"Ianto, have you come any further toward finding someone who can help me?"

He shook his head, a single tear sliding down his face.

"I tried to contact Dr. Ranulph Glanville at the American Society for Cybernetics, but they told me that no one has ever created a 'genuine cyborg', that the field of cybernetics is a complex study of systems, not a 'steampunk fantasy,' and then they dismissed my enquiry as nothing but a 'University Prank.'"

Her face hardened.

"You expected help from the Americans? Ianto, I thought you were smarter than that"

"Who else could I try? Torchwood London is gone, and UNIT is worse than useless - and if I went to them, it would get back to Jack anyway, and I can't let that happen."

"There must be someone. Have you tried the Japanese?"

He wept openly.

"I don't know, Lisa. I just don't know."

An alarm sounded in the distance.

"Lisa…"

"Ianto, that alarm means you have to go."

"I don't want to leave you."

"Go, Ianto. Go. Find someone who can help me, and come back."

He stepped towards the door, but did not let go of her hand until he couldn't hold it any longer. He gave her fingers one last squeeze, and rushed out - pulling the door to and sliding the latch without even thinking, as he hurried up to the main part of the Hub to see what had come through the Rift this time.

A/N: I should mention that Dr. Ranulph Glanville is a real life cyberneticist, who in 2007 was the vice-president of the American Society for Cybernetics. I know nothing about him beyond what a five minute Google search might turn up, and should probably state that his/the Society's rude response to Ianto's enquiry was entirely fictitious. I simply felt it unlikely that Ianto would have already been in contact with Dr. Tanizaki, and yet nothing have come of it for several months yet.