Part 1

Part 1

Jack blinked and coughed loudly as he expelled a jet of sea water. As he looked up, he grimaced as he realised that the sun was beating down on him – and he wasn't wearing any protection. A soaking wet white toga, which was clinging to his skin, was not helping matters in the slightest. However…the circumstances of acquiring said toga had been, to say the least, much more pleasant.

He smiled as he recalled the little sojourn to Rome – the reign of Hadrian, to be precise – and the rather steamy events in the baths, both literally and metaphorically. He had, admittedly, been rather annoyed that his clothes seemed to have disappeared, leaving behind only a pair of white togas. Ianto, however, once he had gotten over the loss of his beloved stopwatch, had been of the 'When in Rome, do as the Romans do' opinion and had been more than happy to wear a toga. Looking back on it, Jack realised that he had, really, only been upset at losing his beautiful coat – and that, actually, putting a toga on Ianto and having Ianto put a toga on him had been exceptional fun.

Although, now he came to think about it – where exactly was Ianto? They had walked out of the Roman forum hand in hand, but then – or rather, now – he was just not there. If he had ended up somewhere – or some-when – else, then Jack was assuredly going to be having some words with the Rift when they returned to Cardiff.

Something brushed Jack's hip then and he jumped when he realised that Ianto was floating beside him and the thing brushing his hip was actually his right hand. Quickly, he jumped back into the deeper water and pulled his partner up to the surface, all the while slapping his face to try and get a response from him. When that failed, he bent down and pressed their mouths together, breathing deeply into him.

It worked; within a second, Ianto's eyes flew open and he gasped for breath as he came awake. A moment later, he was alert enough to raise an eyebrow at the older man.

"Funny sort of CPR, Jack," he remarked. "And why are you looking at me like I'm a melting ice-cream cone that you just want to lick up?"

Jack smirked as he lifted him up. "Well," he said, "I've realised that there's one thing better than Ianto Jones in a white toga."

"And what would that be?"

"That would be Ianto Jones in a wet white toga." He yelped as Ianto slapped him on the shoulder, knocking him back into the water. "Hey, that wasn't fair," he pouted.

"That's what you get for thinking with your trousers."

"But I'm not wearing trousers."

"Okay, that's what you get for thinking with your crotch. Happy?"

"No; you hit me on one of the spots where I got sunburnt."

Ianto's eyes widened in concern and he stared at Jack's skin under his toga. "Jack, I'm sorry," he gasped as he caught sight of the red and raw skin. "I didn't realise."

Jack smiled. "Don't worry," he said, pulling him into the water and kissing him. "But I have to ask – how are you not sunburnt?"

"I don't tend to get sunburnt for some reason, which is odd, considering how pale – wait, never mind that. Last time I looked, Rome didn't have a beach, so…where are we?"

Jack frowned. "We seem to be in the middle of the sea. Hey, you know what I've always wanted to –"

"Jack. I know it's difficult for you, but please, stop thinking with your crotch."

"Oh, all right," sighed Jack. "Well then, I suppose the right question isn't 'Where are we?' but 'When are we?' Because you're right; this is not Rome – and those over there look to me like they could be Greek ships."

He caught Ianto's hand and together they swam towards the shore. Gradually, several tents and campfires came into view, all set up beside the ships. But what they saw as they came closer were several large wood pyres, some of them still smoking.

"My God!" exclaimed Jack. "Just – when are we?"

"Well, judging by the funeral pyres and the weapons all over the place, we seem to have stumbled into the middle of a war," replied Ianto as he stepped onto the sand.

Jack nodded. "It doesn't explain the animal carcasses, though. Wait here; I'll go and ask around and find out what's happening."

Ianto watched as his partner walked off and entered one of the tents. He didn't have to wait long, however; within a minute, there was a loud yelp and Jack was running back out, looking rather flushed.

"What did you do?" asked Ianto wearily.

Jack swallowed. "Ianto…do you remember the time Gwen walked in on us in the greenhouse? Well…I kind of just did the exact same thing."

Ianto groaned as two men, one blonde and the other a pale brunette, came outside. It was painfully obvious that they had been, well, disturbed and had dressed hastily before appearing. The taller – but probably younger – blonde man looked threateningly at them.

Jack, however, appeared pretty impervious to this. "Something the matter, Blondie?" he asked. Behind him, he heard Ianto's palm connect with his forehead as he groaned again. The brunette, however, snorted and turned rather pink when Jack grinned at him.

The blonde man twitched. "I am Achilles," he said, "son of Peleus and leader of the Myrmidons. This," he pulled the other man forwards, "is my companion, Patroclus, son of Menoetius."

"Nice to meet you, Achilles, son of Peleus," drawled Jack. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness and this is my," he leered slightly, "companion, Ianto Jones – my companion in every sense of the word, as I would guess your Patroclus is too." He grabbed the shocked warrior's arm and dragged him off, chattering all the way.

Ianto groaned again. "I'm surrounded by idiots," he said, rolling his eyes for what felt like the millionth time since their arrival.

"Don't worry," Patroclus spoke up, "you get used to it." He smiled. "I'm Patroclus."

"Ianto," said the Welshman cautiously.

They shook hands. "How did you come to be here?" asked Patroclus. "I haven't seen you two around and it's been ten years, so…" He suddenly looked suspicious. "You're not with the Trojans, are you?"

Ianto blinked. "What – no, I – did you say Trojans?"

Patroclus frowned at him. "Ianto…are you feeling well? Only, you look a little pale."

Ianto didn't wonder that he was pale – his heart was beating a million times a minute as it clicked together about where they were – and, more importantly, when they were.

"I'm, um," he stammered, "I – Jack!" He raced back to the tent, where Jack was laughing – or flirting – with Achilles. He grabbed his partner's wrist and dragged him out of the way. "Jack, I was just talking with Patroclus and –"

"Ianto," said Jack, laughing. "If you wanted a foursome with Achilles and Patroclus, all you had to do was say so. I'm up for it – if you are."

Ianto groaned. "Of all the things to – no, Jack, that wasn't what I wanted to ask!" He paused for breath, but then started to shake slightly.

Jack, frowned, realising that his partner was serious. "Ianto, what's wrong?" he asked, taking his hand and stroking it. "What's going on? Please – you're scaring me."

"I just…I figured out where and when we are. Jack, we're in the final year of the Trojan War! I've read what happens next in the 'Iliad' and –"

"Hey, hey, hey," interrupted Jack, drawing him closer. "It's okay; I'm here, I'm right here – you don't need to worry; I'm right here and I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I promise; I'll keep you safe."

Ianto shook his head. "No, Jack, it's not –"

"Shh," interrupted Jack, "I'll find a way to keep you safe; I'll do whatever it takes." He smiled as he hugged Ianto tightly. "Don't worry; you're with the Captain, remember?"

Ianto shivered slightly and tried to find the words to explain that he wasn't worried about himself; he was worried about someone else – or rather, two other people.

Zeus gazed from his lofty peak at the scene unfolding beneath him, watching the two new arrivals as they spoke. "Hmm…" he mused. "Athena, my child," he spoke then, summoning his daughter, "who are these people? They do not seem to be from our time."

Athena, her aegis flashing, followed her father's gaze. "Indeed they do not," she agreed. "But the young fair one appears troubled. He…knows things…that may yet happen, but the other will not understand…he does not see."

Zeus nodded. "You are right, my daughter," he said. "We must watch them. I am the king of the gods and I shall watch them."

"You shall do no such thing!" Hera, overhearing this conversation, stormed over, her shining robes flying behind her. "Honestly, as if that Ganymede weren't enough, you're now setting your sights on mortals as well?" She shook her head. "I honestly don't know why I wonder where your daughter gets it from." She cast a disparaging look over at Aphrodite, who was apparently making herself beautiful – as usual – but in reality was arguing with Artemis. It was the same thing – Aphrodite could not understand the concept of chastity, no matter how hard it was drummed into her.

Apollo rolled his eyes and came to stand by Athena as the two goddesses began to fight – as usual. "Do you ever get the feeling we're the best two?" he asked.

"All the time," she replied. "We're surrounded by idiots." To Zeus, she said, "Father, I will watch things from above and step in when necessary."

Zeus scowled, but at a look from his wife, he submitted. However, when she had gone, he stole another look at the new pair, being very taken by the younger one.

"Ianto Jones," he mused, "is a ravishing being, but he sees much – maybe too much." He sighed, about to turn away, until he saw the two men kissing.

"On second thoughts…" he mused and then sat down to watch the show. He chuckled slightly.

"By the way," he mused. "Love the wet clothes."

Oh, he loved being the king of the gods sometimes.