A/N: This is set after "Journey's End" (and, therefore, "Exit Wounds"), and before Ian meets the Doctor.

Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood

Justifying Curiosity

He's used to things like this happening, just not to him. Never to him. Really, he shouldn't be surprised that he's standing in London in 1963 (according to the newspaper under his foot, anyway) without any clue as to where he should go. He works for Torchwood for chrissakes, it's not like this is anything out of the ordinary.

But, again, it's never happened to him before. He's never fallen through time and, judging from the odd stares he's getting as he stands outside a junkyard, he never wants to again.

He looks up and down the road, taking in the houses on either side of the dreary empty lot he's found himself standing in front of, then sets off in a promising direction. He isn't sure how he knows it's a promising direction as he doesn't know London half as well as he knows Cardiff, but he's moving and that's promising in and of itself.

He pays close attention to the roads he's walking down, memorizing the corners he turns at, the houses and how they're arranged. He has to know his way back, just in case. All the while he keeps his hands in his pockets and his head low, glad he decided to wear a suit that day as he blends in with the crowd far better than he would were he wearing something a little less formal.

After a while, he comes to a halt, standing in front of what is quite obviously a school. He could easily discern this fact by looking at the sign out front "Coal Hill School", but it's the swarm of teenagers pushing their way out of the building that brings him to his brilliant deduction. And, for some reason, he decides it's a wonderful idea to push his way through the crowd into the building.

He's stopped in the hallway by a man with a young but stern face, most likely a teacher. The man has a hand on his chest in much the same way he'd stopped Jack from writing him off completely all those years ago. He recognizes the face from a file he glanced through while organizing Jack's office, but he can't quite place a name with it, so he waits and hopes that maybe he'll be given a hint.

"Can I help you?" the man asks. "You look a bit lost."

"I am, actually," comes the easy answer, no trace of concern in his voice. The Welsh accent obviously throws the other man, but he doesn't let it show for long.

"I'm Ian Chesterton," he says, holding out his hand. "I'm a science teacher here, maybe I can help." He ushers his unexpected guest into a nearby classroom, the science classroom, if the test tubes are any indication.

"Ianto Jones," the guest says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I got a bit turned around and thought I'd come in and ask for directions. I don't make it to London much." The lie is easy and rolls of his tongue as if it's the truth, but he catches a small twitch at the corner of Chesterton's mouth that tells him the other man doesn't quite buy it.

But it's too late now to change his story and he can only wait and see what the science teacher's next move will be.

***

"I've lost him," Gwen says, tapping a few keys on the computer (Tosh's computer, she can't help but remind herself). In an instant, Jack is leaning over her shoulder, his breath warm on her cheek as he surveys the situation.

"What about Mickey?" he asks.

"I've got him on the line," Gwen replies, tapping her ear piece. "Do you want to talk to him?"

"Not just yet," Jack says, leaning closer to the computer, his shoulder brushing against Gwen's. "Keep him on the line, though."

"Mickey," Gwen says, tilting her head away from Jack. "Where was it you last saw Ianto?" she nods and lets out a few 'mmmhmms', then looks back over at Jack. "Says they were outside a junkyard in Coal Hill, Ianto went in while he surveyed the perimeter. He waited a bit, then went in after Ianto but couldn't find him anywhere."

"Coal Hill?" Jack asked. "Are you sure?"

"That's where the rift activity was strongest," Gwen replies with a nod. "According to Tosh's calculations, anyway."

Jack nods. "Wait here," he says before sprinting up to his office. Gwen waits, tapping a few more keys on the keyboard and trying to find a solution to their problem. Mickey's on the other line, asking if there's anything they can do, and Gwen can't control the grim smile on her face as she replies.

"We're not sure yet," she says. "Hang in there, Mickey." She can almost hear Mickey's nod, then he tells her he's heading back to the Junkyard and he'll keep in touch.

And that's when Jack comes back, a rather thick file folder clutched in his hand. He opens it up on the keyboard and starts flipping through it. Gwen glances at the faces, starting with Donna Noble and going backward in time, and she isn't surprised when she sees Jack staring back at her for a brief moment before the page is turned.

Finally he slows down at the last three pages: Susan Foreman, Barbara Wright, and Ian Chesterton. Gwen reads the documents quickly as Jack flips through them. The girl, Susan, was a student at the Coal Hill School, while Barbara and Ian were two of the teachers. In 1963.

"Jack, you can't know he's gone back that far," Gwen says softly, but Jack isn't listening. He's reading and rereading the files, learning everything he can about these people.

"Where did you get these?" Gwen tries again, but again Jack doesn't respond. He snaps the folder shut and looks down at Gwen, a determined expression on his face.

"The Doctor," he says simply, as if that'll tell Gwen what's going on. It doesn't, and she's quick to chase after him as he heads back up to his office, wondering just what he's talking about.

***

The ride is quiet as Chesterton drives slowly past every hotel in the vicinity, asking Ianto if this is the one he's staying at and always getting "no" as an answer. He's getting frustrated and he's not doing a very good job of hiding it, but he can't tell if Ianto even cares.

"Where did you say you wound up?" he asks again.

"76 Totters Lane," Ianto replies easily, turning his steady gaze on Ian.

"I'm not familiar with that house," Ian says, ignoring the nervous shudder that Ianto's gaze causes in him. "Do you know who lives there?"

"No idea," Ianto says. "As I said, I'm not in London much." Silence falls and Ian concentrates on driving, debating between taking Ianto back down to Totters Lane and leaving him their or taking him home and putting him up for the night. He isn't even sure why he's considering the second option, as he knows nothing about the Welshman save his name, but it's the one winning out.

He tells himself it's because he couldn't live with himself if something happened that he could have prevented, but in reality there's something odd about this Ianto Jones, something he wants to get to the bottom of. After all, he reminds himself, you can't really justify curiosity.

"You said you were traveling with someone?" Ian asks as he pulls up in front of his house, parking the car and looking over at Ianto. "He'd be back at your hotel, wouldn't he?"

Ianto shrugged. "More likely than not."

"Couldn't you ring him?"

"He's deathly afraid of phones."

It sounds ridiculous, but the expression on Ianto's face is one of pure seriousness, and nothing about him has been ordinary in the least anyway, so Ian lets it slide. He gets out of the car and leads the way up to the house.

"I suppose you can stay the night," he says. "It'll be getting dark soon and then there'll be no point in looking anyway."

"You don't have to," Ianto says, but Ian can tell it's only courtesy. He leads Ianto into the house, turning on lights as he goes.

"The guest room's up the stairs and to the right," he says, pointing the way. "There are fresh linens in the closet down the hall. I'll put the kettle on and see if I can find something suitable for dinner."

"Not used to having guests?" Ianto asks. Ian doesn't answer and Ianto takes the hint, disappearing up the stairs while Ian makes his way to the kitchen, even more intrigued by this strange man than he was five minutes before.

***

"If Ianto's when I think he is," Jack says, pacing as he speaks, "Then he has to be very careful not to say the wrong thing."

"When do you think he is?" Mickey's voice comes over the phone, making Gwen jump just a little. She'd forgotten they had him on the line.

"1963," Jack replies quickly. "If he runs into Ian or Barbara, he could upset the Doctor's timeline."

"How do you know all this?" Gwen asks. "Where did you get those files?"

Jack doesn't answer her, instead he addresses Mickey: "Get back to the hotel and get some rest," he says. "I want you back at the junkyard first thing in the morning."

"You think he'll come through then?" Mickey asks.

"Can't hurt to be there in case he does," Jack says. There's an assenting sound from Mickey and the line goes dead. Jack hangs up on their end and looks at Gwen. She's got that look on her face, the one that says she's putting too much thought into what's going on.

"Jack," she says, treading carefully, "Does he know you've got these?"

"He?" Jack asks, playing dumb.

"The Doctor," Gwen says. "Does he know you've got information on all these people?"

"No," Jack says, collecting the files and tucking them away.

"How did you-" Gwen starts to ask again, but Jack cuts her off with that cheeky grin of his.

"My methods are my secret," he says. "Now, let's have a look at those readings." And he's out of his office in a shot, bounding down to the computers, leaving a dumbfounded Gwen to follow behind.

***

Two twins. They got two twin beds at the hotel, but only one has been slept in. If Mickey didn't know better, he'd think Ianto hadn't been there at all. But he does know better, of course. He knows why one bed is still made up perfectly and the other has sheets and blankets spilling over the edge.

He smirks at the memory of the night before, and the thought that if (when) Jack finds out, he'll be put off and more than a bit jealous.

But the memories are only good for so long, and soon he's worrying again. He hasn't gone through that in ages, not since Rose first went off with the Doctor, back when he was a bit of a funny lookin' bloke with short hair and big ears. He can't help but compare the situations. He'd no idea where Rose had gone off to, and now it's the same with Ianto, except Ianto didn't choose to go. The rift just snatched him up, and the chances of getting him back are slimmer than Jack is letting on.

Mickey had been in a parallel world far too long not to know that.

He falls back on the unused bed, laying his head on the pillow and staring at the ceiling. He doubts he'll be getting much sleep tonight, if any, but it can't hurt to try. He needs to be alert tomorrow, in case something less than desirable comes through with - or instead of - Ianto.

***

"Are you here for business or pleasure?" Ian asks, picking at his plate while Ianto eats as though he's starved.

"Bit of both, I'd say," Ianto says, letting a wicked grin slide onto his face as he looks up at the other man. A slight blush rises to Ian's cheeks, hardly noticeable unless you're looking, and he quickly lowers his gaze to his untouched meal.

"So that man you're here with?" Ian asks. "Is he your partner?"

"In more ways than one," Ianto replies slyly. He isn't sure why he's acting like this, like he's with Jack, but there's something about Ian that makes it easy. Makes it feel right.

Ian clears his throat and stands quickly, gathering up the dishes and carting them to the kitchen. Ianto smiles as he watches Ian go, amused at the effect he's having on the him

He remembers the name now, and the face, from a file he was more than likely not supposed to see. He'd been tidying up Jack's office and it had fallen from the desk, scattering pages everywhere. He'd read through it quickly, only catching a few of the names, as he'd heard Jack coming up the stairs, before putting it back in its place.

Jack knew he'd seen it, of course, but neither of them said anything about it.

An Ian Chesterton had been on one of those sheets of paper, and now that they've talked there's no question in Ianto's mind that this is that same Ian. At what point in the man's timeline they're at now, Ianto can't be sure, but he knows he has to watch what he says. He doesn't want to muck up history any more than Jack already has.

"Do you need a hand?" he calls out, getting up and taking the glasses from the table. He carries them into the kitchen and finds Ian hard at work cleaning up, more absorbed in the task than even Ianto himself had ever been back when he was still playing Tea Boy for Torchwood.

"I think I can manage all right," Ian replies, not looking around as Ianto places the glasses by the sink. "Thanks though."

"These can wait," Ianto whispers, stepping closer to Ian, his lips inches from the other man's ear. He settles a hand on Ian's waist and waits for the man to pull away…the expected response.

It doesn't come.

Instead, Ian turns towards Ianto, looking him in the eye.

"Your partner?" he asks, but Ianto merely shrugs the inquiry aside and tilts his head ever so slightly to the side. "I've never…," Ian tries again, but there isn't much point, he's not fighting.

***

Mickey rises bright and early after a night of restless sleep. He's on his third cup of coffee by the time he gets out to Totters Lane, but he's still exhausted. He paces around the outside of the building first, seeing if anything's changed on the perimeter. Nothing has, of course, so he slips inside.

There isn't much to see, just piles of junk. Some of it might even be valuable, but Mickey's not here for antiquing. He looks in every corner, searching in every place a man might be hidden.

His search proves unsuccessful, and he goes back outside. He leans against the wall and stares at the graying sky, rain on the horizon.

***

Ianto doesn't want to wake. He wants to stay in this peaceful moment forever. Ian's arms are wrapped around him, strong and protective. He memorises the feeling, so different from Lisa's, from Jack's, from Mickey's; he needed this, and he knows Ian needed it, too.

But all good things must come to an end, and he finally lets his eyes blink open and turns to find that Ian's been watching him, an odd expression on his face. Ianto prepares himself for the oncoming storm, the identity crisis this man he's just met is about to go through.

It is, after all, 1963.

But Ian is calm and quiet as he climbs out of bed and disappears into the hall. Ianto hears running water and listens as Ian starts to hum an odd tune. Ianto pushes the covers aside and gets up as well, collecting his clothes and pulling them on.

He's fully dressed by the time Ian returns. The other man sizes him up from the doorway, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, and a look on his face that reminds Ianto oddly of Jack. An ancient gaze set in a young face.

"I thought you'd be more reticent," Ianto says before he can stop himself. Ian laughs and Ianto almost feels foolish, but the point still stands and he waits for the explanation. Ian's slow to give one, though, wandering back into the room and picking out clothes for the day. He gets dressed slowly (painstakingly slowly, Ianto thinks), but when he's done, he turns to face Ianto, and Ianto knows Ian's ready to talk.

"I'm not as…closed-minded as many of my colleagues may be, Mr. Jones," Ian says. "It would be a lie to say I had no suspicions about you when we were discussing your Partner. Mr. Smith, was it?" Ianto nods in affirmation and Ian is quick to continue. "I cannot, however, say that I entirely expected that."

"I didn't mean to-"

"Take advantage?" Ian cuts in, chuckling lightly. "No advantage was taken, Mr. Jones, I was in full control of my faculties last night. No, no. I fear it is I who has taken advantage of you."

Ianto isn't sure he wants to ask for elaboration, so he waits to see if Ian will continue anyway.

He does.

"You see, Mr. Jones-"

"Ianto," Ianto cuts in.

Ian smiles. "You see, Ianto, the entire reason I brought you home in the first place was to satisfy my own curiosity. It's a bit obvious you really don't belong here."

He holds up his hand, cutting Ianto off before he can start.

"And I don't just mean London," he continues. "I mean here, now. There's something about you, something I don't entirely understand. I suppose I was looking for answers last night."

"Did you find any?"

"Only one."

"And that is?"

"You aren't very good with names, Ianto," Ian says, a smile creeping onto his face. "For instance, mine isn't Jack."

It's Ianto's turn to blush. He feels the heat rise to his face and he ducks his head, looking down at the shine on his shoes, wondering if he had done the same thing to Mickey. He silently prays that he hadn't.

"Well, now," Ian says, interrupting Ianto's thoughts. "We'd best get you to Totter's Lane. That's where you got lost; maybe you'll find your way from there."

***

Mickey's about to give up when he hears a crash inside the building; he heads for the door, but it opens before he gets there and Ianto steps out. He grins at Mickey, who's not even trying to contain his excitement as he calls up the Hub and tells Gwen the good news.

***

Ianto doesn't tell Jack much when he's being debriefed. He mentions meeting Ian and staying with him for a night, but he doesn't go into specifics. It doesn't matter, though, because he can tell Jack knows.

Ianto's a good liar, but Jack has learned his tells since the Lisa incident, and, though he doesn't say anything, Ianto knows that he knows.

***

"If you ever meet an Ian Chesterton," Ianto says later, while he and Mickey are lying in bed, safely back at Mickey's flat. "You're deathly afraid of phones."