Author's Note: The first fic I've ever written off a prompt. Props go out to Samantha who gave me the prompt, which… I can't actually remember now, since I wrote this like a month ago and am just now posting it. But it was good. Anyway, this may have a prequel coming sometime, if I stop being lazy.

Hope you like, and please review!

[*]

"Arthur!"

Arty Talbert tried to reclaim the warmth that had fled when his wife left the bed. He burrowed his head deeper into the pillow and tried to go back to his dream, which had mainly consisted of his tosser boss getting fired and Arty being promoted to replace him and getting a huge party with cake.

"Arthur!"

Arty's eyes opened in an instant and he rushed to the hallway, only slightly impeded by the muffin top he'd been meaning to do something about. He spared a thought for the cold hardwood floors on his bare feet before he reached the source of the frightened call, his wife Sadie.

"What is it?" he asked her, seeing her wide open green eyes and the hand covering her mouth.

She gestured to the front door, left slightly ajar at the end of the hallway. "There's a man on the porch, and he's covered in blood!"

"A drifter, you think?" Arty asked unsurely. This was an upstanding neighborhood, and the homeless usually concentrated closer toward the city center.

Sadie was shaking her head. "No, he's wearing a posh suit, but it's drenched in blood, Arthur! It looks awful!"

Arty pulled her into a brief hug before gently maneuvering her back toward the bedroom. "Don't worry dear. You get ready for the Gordons' party, I'll run 'im off."

Sadie didn't look convinced. "Be careful."

"Sure, sure."

Arthur waited until she was in their room before heading for the door, sure it would take only a few moments to run off whatever wanker had stumbled onto their porch, surely messing up Sadie's flowers in the process. She looked like a soft woman, but get his wife angry… Arty shuddered from the memories of that time when the neighbor's dog had run into her rose bushes.

Tugging the door open confidently, Arty stepped onto the porch, already planning the firm, but gentle speech he'd use to get rid of the no-good loafer. When he saw the loafer in question, however, he reconsidered.

Sadie was right, the man did look awful. Wearing an expensive black suit, light blue shirt, and a silk tie, the man looked the very picture of professionalism. That was, if one ignored the deep red and brown bloodstains that looked only recently dried on the fabrics.

Looking closer, Arty was surprised to see that the 'businessman' was two decades younger than himself. Little more than a boy, really, Arty considered. His hair was in disarray, his deathly pale face smeared with blood and dirt, and if the dark bags under his eyes were any indication, this slump against the Talberts' railing was the first sleep he'd gotten in a while.

A burst of pity caused Arty to change his original plan of shooing the man away. Instead he crouched down next to him and, avoiding the bloodstains carefully, shook the man lightly by the shoulder.

The stranger's eyes opened blearily, but upon seeing Arty he jolted to consciousness. Looking around wildly, the suited man jumped to his feet. "Where am I?"

Arty raised an eyebrow at the torn and raspy quality of the young man's deep voice. "45 Blueberry Crescent," he answered neutrally.

The man let out a breath and slumped against the porch railing. "I didn't think I'd come so far," he murmured to himself. "I just had to get away from the Plas…"

"Roald Dahl Plas?" Arty's eyebrows flew up. "That's a more than a dozen kilometers from here. You musta been out of it!"

"I suppose, I was…" The man was staring blankly toward the road. Arty waited, but when nothing else was said he opened the door.

"Why don't you come in and get cleaned off," he offered.

The pale man looked startled. "I couldn't trouble you, I should be… getting on," he looked both ways down the road as though trying to judge direction.

"You can't go anywhere like that, not durin' the day at least," Arty reasoned, pointing at the stained suit. The man looked down at his disheveled clothing like he'd never seen it before. Arty sighed. "Come on mate, you look in a bad way. At least have some tea. My wife's just puttin' the kettle on."

The man eyed Arty for several moments, then relaxed into a small smile. "Thank you."

It was only then that Arty realized exactly how young he was, how much exhaustion had been lining his face. He's not even twenty-five, I'd guess.

"No problem," Arty grinned. "I'm Arthur Talbert, but me friends call me Arty. I'd shake your hand now, but we oughtta get 'em cleaned off before that."

"Ianto Jones," the man responded, returning the smile. "But you can call me Ianto."

[*]

"Why did you let him in," Sadie hissed, rather unnecessarily, Arty thought, considering the stranger was in the shower, two rooms away. "He could be an axe murderer!""He's not an axe murderer Sadie, he's a normal young bloke. He probably got into a pub fight or something," Arty reasoned.

"A pub fight?" Sadie repeated shrilly. "What that much blood?"

"I don't know," he admitted, "but he walked from the Plas and 'e's completely knackered. So why not give 'im some cockles before we send 'im off?"

"Because we don't know why he was sleeping on our porch covered in blood!""Ahem."

Arty and his wife broke their intense staring contest to spin toward the stranger standing in the kitchen doorway. He was looking rather uncomfortable in Arty's clothes- Ianto was several inches taller and a good deal leaner than the older man.

Sadie threw her husband a significant look and retreated to the bedroom to fix her hair. Arty shook his head at her as she left and sat at the table, motioning for Ianto to do the same. The pale stranger sat gingerly, like some part of him was hurting.

"Sorry 'bout that," Arty said as he began fixing his breakfast. "Sadie there's never been one to give a bloke the benefit of the doubt. I think, what's life without a bit of risk? If you do end up killing me, it'd be an exciting end, at least, better than dyin' at work. Death by paper cut, likely. Eat up," he suggested. "Sadie'll snag all the fruit before you can blink. On some sorta diet she is."

Ianto was looking a bit blindsided, both by the wide range of food Sadie had set out on the table and by Arty's ramble. "This really isn't necessary," he began.

"Nonsense," Arty interrupted. You look like you need some meat on your bones. Girls don't like a bloody stick figure."Ianto winced as he reached for the bacon.

"Girl troubles?" Arty asked. "That how you got the blood all over you, then? Fight over a girl?"

"Something like that," Ianto murmured. He stared at his full plate while Arty dug in.

"My girlfriend was killed last night." He blurted a few minutes later.

Arty's thick eyebrows rose again. He swallowed his gulp of oatmeal, eyes wide. "Did you call the police?" he asked, sympathetic, but more than a bit interested. Of all the exciting things to land on our porch, he thought.

Ianto shook his head. "The police, I guess you could say, they're the ones that shot her. My colleagues," he added.

Arty set down his fork, amazed. "Let me get this straight. You're a police officer, and your girlfriend was some sort of, criminal, or som-"

"No!" Ianto said bluntly. "She didn't want to hurt anyone. She was trying to get out." His voice hitched.

Arty watched as the young man swallowed thickly. "She get caught up in summat?"

Ianto nodded. "They didn't even give her a chance," he whispered. "I tried to tell them, but…" he blinked, looking down, and Arty could see tears sliding down his cheeks.

"Poor boy," Sadie said from the doorway. Ianto jumped at her voice, but the comforting arm she put around his shoulders calmed him. "No one should have to loose a loved one like that. Do you want to talk about it?" She sat across the table from her husband, close enough to keep a hand on Ianto's arm.

Ianto nodded slowly. "I… she was- have you heard of Canary Wharf?"

Arty and Sadie met each other's eyes. "Our son works there," Arty answered. "Is this about that attack a few months back? That government building?"

"Yes. We worked there, we were there when it happened." Sadie reached for the tea kettle to cover her flinch of surprise.

"She was… hurt. It was all classified, still is, and if they'd found out that she'd survived, what happened to her…" He shuddered. "For eight months I've been hiding her, taking care of her, trying to fix it so we could run away and never get caught."

"And your colleagues didn't find out that you were harboring a fugitive?" Arty scoffed. "What sorta cops are they?"

"I didn't want them to know," Ianto explained. "She needed a lot of medical care, so… I hid her in the basement of our headquarters so I could be near her all the time."

"In their own basement!" Arty cried. "This is what we're coming to! Coppers can't even police their own precinct-"

"Let the boy talk, Arthur!" Sadie snapped. She took a slow breath before she said to Ianto "My father had cancer for several years before he passed. I know how difficult and tiring it is to care for someone like that." Her eyes held Ianto's for a few long moments as Arty looked on. "How did your friends not notice?"

Ianto looked down at his untouched plate. "They're not my friends," he muttered.

Sadie did that clucky thing that always told Arty he was about to lose the argument. "Are you saying that because you don't care about them, and they about you, or because of what happened last night?"

Ianto was silent for several long minutes. A direction from Sadie started him eating his breakfast, and a pointed look got Arty to start blabbing about his job at the accounting office. Sadie covered her smirk with a cup of tea.

Ianto waited until Arty was swallowing a giant gulp of tea before interjecting. "I do care about them, still. But I don't know if I can forgive them, and I don't think they'll forgive me."

"That's something you'll have to work out with them, dear," Sadie said gently."What was she like?" Arty asked after a pregnant pause. He didn't feel very comfortable with the crying stuff, he left that to Sadie, but the wistful, warm smile that spread across the young man's thin face told him he'd done right.

[*]

Sadie was the only one who could hear the knock on the door. Ianto and Arty were laughing uproariously over the hilarious ending to a story Ianto was telling about one of his and Lisa's dates in London. Sadie got up to answer it. "You keep eatin', you hear?" she called back to Ianto, whom she'd dubbed 'far too thin for a growing boy.'

Sadie opened the door, still smiling. "May I help you?"

The man in the long blue coat smiled winningly. "I bet you could," he said with a look Sadie hadn't seen in years. She blushed.

"Are you looking for someone?" she asked politely.

The smile dimmed. "Yes," he cleared his throat. "I'm looking for a Mr. Ianto Jones. About yea tall, suit?"

"And who may I say is calling?" When the American had motioned at a height about an inch below his own, the long wool coat had pulled back and Sadie had glimpsed a small pistol strapped on his belt. She assumed he was one of the people responsible for the distraught state of the young man who'd appeared on her porch overnight, and her voice was accordingly cold.

The man's smile dropped away completely, and for a moment Sadie saw a man just as tired as Ianto had looked. "Can you tell him it's Jack? And that I only want to talk, nothing else?"

Sadie eyed him for signs of misdirection, but his blue eyes looked blatantly honest. "I'll tell him." She closed the door.

When she reentered the kitchen, Ianto saw the look on her face and stopped laughing. "What is it, who was it?" he asked seriously.

"He says his name is Jack, and he just wants to talk with you." Ianto paled and his hand convulsed around his spoon. Sadie gently removed the utensil. "He sounded pretty genuine," she offered.

"Yeah, he does that," Ianto muttered darkly as he stood.

Arty stood up as well. "If you don't feel up to talkin' with him, you don't have to."

The young man shook his head. "I can't run away anymore. If he's going to fire me, or… I have to face up to what I've done."

Sadie nodded. "Go into the sitting room, dear. I'll bring him in."

"Thank you." Ianto took a deep breath before leaving the kitchen.

When Sadie opened the front door again she saw that the man in the coat was examining the view of the neighborhood from their porch. She stepped out beside him.

"He'll see you," she said casually. When he headed for the door she caught his arm. "But Jack. If I hear anything from that room, so much as a raised voice, he will be welcome in my home and you will not."

Sadie held the man's gaze with hers until the sudden defensive hardness faded away and he nodded. Then she showed him inside.

[*]

"I'm sorry."

"…"

"Ianto-"

"No, you were right. I… she wasn't the same. There were times when… I just didn't want to believe it."

"I wish you hadn't had to go through that. And… I shouldn't have acted like that."

"I don't blame you." Bitter laugh. "I wouldn't have wanted to see me either."

"Ianto-"

"Actually, I don't- I understand- I can't really blame you for anything last night. Except…"

"In the tourist office."

"…Yeah."

"I… I am sorry. About… that. And… I understand why you hid her. I'd probably do the same thing… I forgive you."

"…Thank you."

"And… I don't blame yo-"

"I didn't mean it."

"What?"

"Outside. What I said. I didn't mean it."

"…Thank you."

"…"

"…"

"Jack, please don't draw this out. What are you going to do to me?"

"To you?"

"I betrayed you all. You and Gwen were almost killed. All of you could've been killed. So what is it, Retcon?"

"I'd never Retcon you."

"…All right. Okay."

"…"

"Could you… May I call my family… before-"

"No! Ianto, I- you're-" Sigh. "Look, I'm putting you on leave for a month. That's all."

"A month."

"For you. It's not a punishment. You need time."

"Are… the others… they're not angry?"

"The girls didn't just ask for you back, they ordered me to find you. Gwen even gave me a pretty fiery lecture for how I acted last night. Even Tosh was giving me dirty looks and telling me off."

"And Owen, sir?"

"Come on, Ianto, you were doing so well, it's Jack!"

"…"

Sigh. "Have it your way. Owen… Owen will forgive you. If he acts out, it's because he was afraid. You know he was at Canary Wharf with Suzie and I, afterwards. He's seen what they can do."

"They want me back?"

"We all do. We do care, Ianto. We might have shown it badly, but don't doubt it. We're all on your side."Beeping.

"Looks like it's all hands on deck. You feeling up to it?"

"I thought I was on suspension."

"Well… it's on the way."

Arty stepped back from the sitting room door, smiling.

[*]

"I've never woken up with someone asleep on my porch covered in blood. It's not something I want me or my wife to see again. Especially not when it's Ianto. He's a good young man, an' if anything else 'appens to 'im I'm gonna hold you personally responsible."

Arty wasn't happy with the smothered grin, but the sincere "I understand" placated him. He let Jack step out of the corner just as Sadie and Ianto came into the hallway.

"-suit of yours is going straight to the garbage, young man, there's no saving it."

Jack stepped forward. "Ready to go?" he asked quietly.

Ianto looked at Sadie and Arty. "I have to say goodbye."

"I'll be waiting." Jack nodded to the couple and, with a last glance at Ianto, he left.

"You're welcome here any time, you know that."

"Yes Sadie, I know." Ianto nodded as the older woman handed him his phone and keys from his suit pockets. "I promise I'll call. Thank you both, so much. I think I just needed to talk. I'm not… I'm never going to be completely better," he admitted with a faint smile. "But talking with you both, reliving my memories of Lisa, it's helped me realize that the woman I love has been gone for a long time."

Ianto met both their eyes, and Sadie smiled back. Arty was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable, however, and gave Ianto a warm handshake. This was immediately followed by his wife's motherly hug.

"Goodbye." Ianto gave them a last smile before he stepped off the porch toward the large black SUV waiting in the driveway.

The couple watched in silence as the vehicle drove off at a speed perhaps a bit fast for a residential neighborhood.

"Do you think he'll find someone else to love the same way? I know I never could," Arty grinned, tugging his wife into his side playfully.

Sadie thought about the looks on Ianto's and Jack's faces when the met each other's eyes in the hall. "I think he might do just that."