A series of conversations between Jack and Ianto through the years, starting a few days after Exit Wounds in 2008. They all take place in Jack's office in the Hub unless otherwise stated.

Conversations

2008

"Here's your coffee. Drink it while it's hot."

"Thanks."

"What's up?" Ianto sat down.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been holed up in here all day. And you've barely spoken to Gwen or me."

"Lots to do." Jack looked up, his usual ready smile absent. "Reports to write, replacements to find."

"Any joy?"

"Uh, not really." Jack paused. "To be honest I haven't looked very hard. Can't see the point of it all. I'll bring someone in and then they'll die. Why bother?"

Ianto removed an invisible speck from his trouser leg. "You never went on that staff motivation course, did you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"How do you expect Gwen and me to feel positive about the future when you're like this? What happened to those fine words about 'the end is where we start from' or some such?"

"Want to know the truth? Right now, Ianto, I feel like just packing it all in and walking away. You and Gwen, you could have normal lives instead of dying young. I mean, what good do we do? Why not just give it all up?"

"Because what we do matters, it has to. Otherwise Toshiko, Owen and the rest have all died for nothing. Who else can keep the aliens under control? Unless ..."

"What?"

"Is this just a way for you to move on? Is there something else you want to do? Somewhere else you want to be?" Ianto challenged Jack.

"No!"

"Sure about that? Has your 'doctor' made another offer?"

"No! I just don't know ..."

"Well, what is it?"

"I've been doing this for so long and what difference has it made? We've still got Weevils on the streets. Any alien technology we find ends up being locked away, its benefits unknown to anyone outside Torchwood. We're never going to be ready because every time I get a team together that's any good it's torn apart. Why should I ask you to put your lives on the line? What right have I got to do that?" Jack sounded depressed and demoralised, unlike his normal self.

"You keep telling me ''the 21st century is when it all changes'. So sometime soon, something is going to happen. Seems a bit odd for you to want to quit now, just when you're going to be needed most. I've given four years of my life to Torchwood, here and in London, and I think it's time well spent. I know you've been here longer than that; how can you even think about throwing it all away?"

A pause.

"109."

"What?"

"109 years, almost to the day."

"109 years? What are you talking about?"

"That's how long I've been here. I started working for Torchwood in 1899."

Ianto was astounded but did his best not to show it. "Then a year isn't going to make much difference, is it? Make it to your 110th and I'll get you a gold watch."

"One more year. That's a long time."

"To me, maybe. For someone who's going to live forever it's a drop in the ocean. Twelve months, Jack, that's all we're talking about. If you really want out, then use the time to train Gwen and me so we can take over."

"You'd stay?"

"I told you, I believe what we do here is important. I don't intend to run away when it gets tough."

"I suppose I could give you one year," Jack agreed reluctantly.

I wrote this a long time ago and have been fiddling with it ever since. I am posting now, before it gets overtaken by series 3! I'd be interested to know what you think of it.