This is set during Exit Wounds, and is a companion/prequel to 'Beneath the Surface'. (I always intended to explain why Ianto was so cold during that fic, so here it is!)

Spoilers for various parts of both series. Hope you enjoy.

Jack stirred, well before the rest of them managed to raise reddened eyes. Slowly, reverently, he inched to his feet with his arms still wrapped around Toshiko, protecting her now as he hadn't in life. His legs trembled beneath him, unsteady with returning sensation after the unmeasured expanse of stillness during which they tried to come to terms with the havoc wrought tonight. In the city they'd defended, once again, at far too high a cost.

Jack ignored the steadying arm Gwen offered as he rose, disregarded Ianto's concerned frown, concentrating wholly on the limp figure cradled in his arms. He moved slowly, careful not to jostle her, in mindless obedience to the part of his mind, sunk in either denial or superstition, which insisted she'd feel it if he treated her roughly. His feet slid slightly on the usually coarse surface, slick now with a fluid it would hurt too much to name. He would burn those boots, later, before Ianto tried to clean them.

A fresh wave of grief struck twofold as Jack realized there was nowhere to lay his beloved burden but the metal table. The autopsy table. There could be no autopsy tonight, even if there had been a need to determine cause of death with her lifeblood spread around them. Toshiko would lay waiting for Owen to notice her, as she had for so long in life.

Jack reined in the shudders shaking him from head to foot. He couldn't break, not yet, maybe not ever, certainly not now. Not now, with so much left to be done. Not now, with too many people expecting him to be strong.

Jack placed a final kiss on Tosh's forehead and turned for the stairs, almost stumbling in his haste, before either Gwen or Ianto could see the fresh tears pouring from already aching eyes.

-XXX-

Gwen found herself reaching for Ianto's hand, only to have it seize hers half-way across the air between them, their unacknowledged rivalry discarded as the object of it fled up the stairs. Before the night was over, they might well bond in hatred of him, having left them with a clean-up operation that might break either of them, should they have to perform it alone.

Eventually, Gwen sighed, a gut-deep exhalation, then squared her shoulders. Second in command was a mantle she wore because the others didn't want it, but its weight lay heavy on her shoulders regardless. Jack had left them – again - and she was second-in-command. To a team of two, perhaps, but one of them had to take action, and even ignoring the stirring of responsibility it would be beyond cruel to allow Ianto to head the clean-up operation of his best friend.

She squeezed Ianto's hand, then released it and gestured unsteadily towards the table. "Do you want to…?" They couldn't leave Tosh like that, untidy, un-groomed…..only Gwen didn't know if she could bear to do it herself.

But Ianto shook his head. "You. Please. I'll…..I'll do the floors."

The floors, Gwen thought. The stairs. The walls, even. Surfaces on which bloody smears traced Tosh's last desperate journey. Gwen dragged her eyes to Tosh's face, calm and composed as always, and thought perhaps she had the best of the worst of tasks after all.

Ianto kept his eyes resolutely on the floor, falling gratefully under the hypnotic movement of his mop, while Gwen tended to Toshiko, her basin filled with water tinged the same red that stained his bucket. Plastic rustled as Gwen bagged the ruined clothes and still he didn't turn. Couldn't. Shouldn't, even if he could.

He'd been friends with Toshiko for years, but he'd never seen her unclothed, even accidentally. Their friendship had never strayed across that particular line. They shared their hearts, their souls, but never their bodies, and it was too late now to wonder whether they might have cured each other of infatuation with the ones who might never be theirs.

"A gown," Gwen murmured.

"Third cupboard from the end, second shelf," Ianto answered mechanically. Plain white, standard issue. Everyone was equal in the vaults.

"It'll do for now," Gwen murmured. "We can find something better when….when we clear her flat….

They'd have to clear Owen's, too, Ianto thought dully. Maybe they'd take one each. Gwen would know her way around Owen's flat, as Ianto knew his way around Tosh's, if for vastly different reasons. Or maybe…maybe after this, they'd be better doing them both together. No point waiting for Jack.

"She's ready," Gwen said, loudly enough that Ianto suspected it wasn't the first time she'd said it. He stared critically at the piece of floor he'd mopped at least four times already. The stain had faded, but might never vanish. Tosh would remain in the very stones of the Hub and he'd never be able to let his foot fall on that particular spot again.

The snap of rubber gloves echoed loudly as they peeled them free, and their hands joined again, pulling each other closer, closer, until they stood side by side, arms twining around waists and shoulders, looking down at their friend with eyes which hadn't yet replenished their stock of tears.

"I always wanted to be closer to her," Gwen almost whispered. "Always meant to….but…but.."

"Owen got in the way," Ianto finished. He didn't see Gwen nod so much as feel the movement beside him. "Like Jack gets between us."

Gwen's head turned in a sharp movement, but the eyes that met hers were calm. "I love Rhys," she asserted. "I'd never…." And she wouldn't have, wouldn't still. The thing with Owen, that was different. She could've walked away from Owen. She had walked away from Owen. Gwen wasn't so sure she could've walked away from Jack, and she'd never know whether it was wisdom or cowardice that prevented her from finding out.

Ianto ducked his head. "And I loved Lisa, and I never would have, either…" Something twisted his lips which might have been a smile, except a smile shouldn't make anyone's face look so sad. "In fact, I didn't….not until….until after."

Gwen blinked. She'd never asked, never would have asked, but they'd speculated, she and Owen, on whether that had been part of Ianto's deception, too. Apparently not. And Gwen's heart hurt, actually, literally, so that Ianto shifted anxiously beside her as she flinched – because now she had the answer and she'd never have the chance to tease Owen with her knowledge.

A sound issued from Gwen that was almost a laugh. Poor Jack, she could almost feel sorry for him. All the little moths hovering around his flame, and still doomed to be second choice. Because both she and Ianto had known the value of the screen that held them back from the fire, however brightly it beckoned. Until the grate wasn't there to stop them, or the flame went out.

There are two more chapters to come, both pretty much finished, so updates will be regular.

Thank you for reading.