Suits in Space

by Hippy Chick1964

Ianto's version of why Jack was so snarky during Children of Earth.

19The characters are the property of Russell Davies and the BBC. This story is just a bit of fun.

TORCHWOOD: DIARY OF Ianto Jones – Suits in Space

Preface – Questioning Losses

Neatly stacked boxes and a rich leather chair were all that was left of Ianto Jones' flat. Gwen Cooper and Rhiannon Jones, Ianto's sister, were dusting window panes simply to have something left to do. Rhiannon's husband, Jon, returned huffing and puffing after a load. "I guess it was thankful he was a poofter," he said, starting to pick up a box, "kept things so neat this was done in a jiffy!" Gwen shot him a nasty look. His effort to lighten the mood had clearly backfired.

As he scurried away taking his guilty conscious with him, his wife began softly sobbing again into a hankie she had found early on. "Why don't you go on love," Gwen said to her kindly, her arm on the grieving woman's shoulder, "I can finish up here." She nodded, looking somewhat relieved and moved quickly toward the exit. There she nearly collided with her husband who was coming back for the last of the boxes. Sternly, Gwen told him, "Take care of her, eh. Rhys and I can handle these." He acknowledged the order like an uncertain solider on a confusing mission.

One box was left in the room. It mostly had books in it. Rhiannon had designated it for charity but Gwen saved something atop. Ianto had stored most of his completed diaries in the safe at the Hub, so they were destroyed. This one survived because it was still at his apartment. And although she felt slightly dirty about it, Gwen couldn't help herself. Ianto and Jack were bickering several days before 456 arrived and she wanted to know why. She hoped it would give some clue about Jack's disappearance and whether or not he would come back this time.

Gwen poured herself into the last piece of furniture in the flat, a large armed leather chair. With a chill in the room and heavy heart, she pulled a wool blanket over her and opened the book. The story started with the off – world adventure Jack and Ianto took two months before the 456.

Chapter One – The Midnight Train to Perturbatio

I should have known it was going to be a bad day when the espresso machine refused to work properly.

"Okay, okay mum!" said an exacerbated Gwen Cooper while hanging up her personal cell phone. I, serving her morning coffee, raised an eyebrow. "Damn," she said answering his query, "It's my aunt-my mum's older sister."

"Dead, I assume," I said instead of kicking the stubborn device.

"Very much so and mum's a singular mess and demanding I show immediately." She pulled out the phone again, "I'd better call Rhys." She turned her back and began chatting seemingly immediately as she kindly walked away so not to disturb anyone else with her family problems.

Jack came out of his office in time to hear her irritated voice quaking at Rhys. I handed him a hot cup of Java. "What's up?" asked Jack Harkness.

"Death in the family."

Jack nodded while taking a sip, "Perfect as usual." I flashed him a grin to acknowledge the compliment.

Suddenly, there was a ringing coming from one of the Hub computers. It was a Skype call from Rabbi Aliyah Teelbaulm, head of the Torchwood Jerusalem and Shalem Center for Peace. "Jack?"

"Rabbi! Great to hear from you, as I so rarely lately get to hear that purr from across the continent."

Aliyah laughed, "Jack Harkness, you rogue! Do you ever quit?" The rabbi had Halli Berry's body and Whoopi Goldberg's wit. Her hair was deep brownish red, dropping in Shirley Temple curls to her shoulder. She had olive colored skin with round, friendly features. Jack's coquettish approach was not unwarranted, Aliyah was beautiful as she was brilliant and cunning. She had been running Torchwood there for a year but had known Jack from his days with the Time Agency through his time with The Doctor. "Hello, Ianto!" She had always been a great fan of our relationship and had on more than one occasion offered sage advice when my sweet smelling boss had dumbfounded me. "Has Jack made an honest man of you yet?"

I started to answer when Jack interrupted me, "Aliyah, I thought I was your only one!" Jack held his hands to his heart in a mocking plea while I shot him an incredulous look and a pop on his head with a file folder. Jack laughed then made a half attempt to pat my ass but I was too quick for him. There was plenty of time for that later. The rabbi rarely called us for purely social reasons.

Aliyah shook her head and smiled at us, "Where's Gwen?"

"Talking with Rhys," Jack pointed behind him where Gwen was still animatedly talking on the phone. "There seems to be a family emergency."

"Ah, tell her I said hi 'cuz is sounds like she won't be able to join you with this."

"With what?"

Aliyah sighed, "I hate to ask you to do this Jack but the American President is in town and with new peace talks underway, my people are swamped just watching over our rift activity." A rift had been discovered last year in Tel Aviv and in such a volatile area, establishing a Torchwood unit was critical. Rabbi Teelbaulm had a fabulous reputation within both the Israeli and Palestinian governments, one of the few both trusted-the former due to her status as a hero in the '48 and '67 wars and the latter because of the social service work her institute had done in the occupied territories. High level officials from both sides were aware of her alien origins, as an immortal humanoid from the planet Jeshurun Prime and somehow that gave her even more street credit. If she was calling, it was likely not social.

"How can Torchwood Cardiff help?" asked Jack.

She leaned into the screen some, her face becoming grim, "Jack, we've got some good intelligence about a shipment of alien arms sales."

"You're not boring me. How much do we know?"

I came back stand next to Jack and began taking notes as Aliyah continued, "The Machla are dealers looking for another place to sell their wares. They've found the rift and see it as a capitalist's wet dream. They've made some contacts and our intel informs us that they have plans to supply arms to Hamas and a militant Israeli settlers group without either side knowing of the other. They figure to escalate the war by keeping them both coming and keep selling until both sides blow each other and everyone else off the planet. They've done it other places and what was left behind makes nuclear war look like fireworks at a family picnic. Jack, we've got to stop them."

"Okay," I interjected, "So we can set up a sting operation when they arrive and catch them and the weapons."

"Sorry, Ianto," said Aliyah, "it ain't that easy." She sighed, "The operative who had the meet location was found yesterday murdered just outside his house along with his wife and 6 month old daughter. Their faces were torn off before they died."

I grimaced at the image, "So how can we stop them?"

"You're gonna have to stop the weapons before they get here. We know where they are originating from."

"Where is that?" asked Jack.

"The planet Perturbatio," she answered and Jack nodded in agreement.

"Excuse me," thinking to interrupt the forming plan, "We have a Torchwood space ship? I don't remember cataloguing that and I know everything about this place, mind you!"

Jack disregarded my protests and returned to Aliyah, "Where on Perturbatio?"

"When you arrive on Perturbatio, you're going to a town called Familiaritas and meet our contact, Khatara. I've worked with him in the past. He knows how to reach the Machla. I'm working on a cover story now to get you in."

In the background, Gwen could be heard complaining, apparently to her father now. Negotiating last minute family events are never easy. "Nobody's telling me about how we are getting to said planet," I tried to remind Jack. "And where and what is this place anyway?"

This seemed to be a question someone was willing to answer. Aliyah posts a star chart on the screen, "Perturbatio is in the Outro System, just round the corner from the Milky Way, about a 2 to 3 day travel."

I'm getting irritated now, as the realization of just how we are going to get there is coming over me, "I'm not doing time travel, Jack. Not that Doctor box thing…it sounds dangerous." Jack brushed me off.

Aliyah, I guess thinking she was reassuring me, continued, "You'll love it, Ianto! Familiaritas is like a combination of Las Vegas, 1890s western America, and pre-Castro Cuba-a very stylish town. And the ships that go there, make those Princess Cruises seem like row boats!" I'm losing my mind now. The last time I flew a regular airplane, my sister and my mates had to plaster me with a pint of brandy.

"We'll take a starship cruiser!" Jack grabbed my hand and kissed it. "Don't worry baby," he cooed, "I'll hold the barf bag steady for you." Aliyah giggled and I gave them both a dirty look.

As if he hadn't already thought this part through, I asked, "And how are we going to get to the intergalactic ship? It's not like they have nonstop flights through Heathrow."

Jack, still holding my hand, raised it up and pointed to his wrist band. Closing my eyes, I could already feel the bile rising from my stomach.

"Ianto," Aliyah teased, "look at the screen." I peeped through one eye and saw the most exquisite suits, "Like I said, I don't have all of your cover story worked out but I can tell you that the people in Familiaritas like to dress." My mouth was watering. Finally, a mission where looking clean is a priority! "I know you like Jack's WWI fare but can you imagine him in one of these?" She was right about that. Next to seeing him naked, having him in a well-tailored suit was next to heaven. "I'm sending you the specs now and most distance travel ships have a tailor onboard." I was sold.

"When do we need to leave?" Jack asked now that he was assured I'd go.

"How close to now can you get?"

Jack turned around and looked at Gwen, still complaining while making arrangements to leave for a family funeral. "Ten minutes too late?"

Chapter Two - Departure

Note to self - never trust Jack Harkness when he says something scary won't be. Didn't need to "just hold his hand" as every one of my molecules broke down then reintegrated, I needed to crawl into his skin or better yet just stay home. And just think, I not only had to do this to get to the ship that would travel to some other planet, I had to take it to get back. Yuk!

Once he convinced me to open my eyes, we were at the landing dock of the UFG Curiosus Meretricis. Jack said that "UFG" stood for the United Federation of Galaxies. I thought either he or they had seen too many Star Trek episodes. Jack said we were somewhere within the MilkyWay and the trip to Perturbatio would take a couple of days. I was just grateful to be on something that at least looked solid. Jack just laughed at me. "Think of this part as a sort of vacation, eh," he said. "I think we both could use one."

Once I was certain that I had all my appendages in their proper places, I started looking around. We were moving in a single file line up toward the entryway of the ship. From what I could see, it was gray and shaped like a fat version of the American space shuttle with window slide outs like a RV. If we weren't in outer space in 2010, you would have thought it was any pre World War II traveling vessel leaving off the Port of London. However, the difference was our fellow passengers. All were an assortment of your usual alien types, like a casting call at a George Lucas movie, only more stylish. These creatures presented themselves like the elite of the galaxy. It's amazing how the well-bred have the same regal look all over the world (and now the galaxy). This was no tourist cruise ship but a first class space cruiser. I guess Torchwood did have deep pockets.

Jack checked our bags with the purser like he was a frequent flyer. "Thirsty?" he asked. I nodded. He took my hand and walked through the throng of passengers and well-wishers. He smiled at me while we took the lift to what I assumed was the third level. He kept hold of me as he did his usual quick dash along the halls, weaving in and out of groups of people. It was clear folks weren't staring at us because we were two men holding hands but Jack's beaming blue eyes and accompanying good looks must have translated across species. It was nice to be in an environment where we were normal and envied.

Jack made an abrupt halt, as he is prone to do, in front of a what seemed to be either a disco or a café. Jack translated the name on the hanging sign as The Narwhal's Cup. "The best, most exotic coffee this side of your Milky Way," he grinned, eyes lit up with Christmas Day excitement. "And the baristas are no slouches either!" he added. The aromas were most definitely coca beans but came with other smells that couldn't quit identify. "These shop owners slipped through the rift centuries ago in an area outside of Cerrado in Brazil and stole a batch of beans along with the farmer's best looking wives and bred both back on their home world." He began steering me through the entrance.

The inside was more bar than coffee shop, full with noisy, laughing patrons clinching what looked to me like espresso cups and gesticulating like drunken sailors. Jack pulled me into a cramped corner bar seat near the kitchen. He called out to one of the waitresses in a language I didn't recognize, obviously ordering two drinks for us. A tall, voluptuous brunette with cat eyes and leopard spots from her ears down both sides of her exposed back dripped her tits over the table handing us our drinks. Jack leaned over to her, and while whispering something, caressed the back of her ear. She giggled, and trotted off, her butt jiggling underneath her black nylon mini skirt. I couldn't blame Jack's shameless behavior on this occasion.

"Taste this Ianto," Jack encouraged, handing me a cup. "Tell me if this isn't some of the best coffee you've ever had." I was hurt at first, as I thought mine was considered his best coffee. But sipping this, I had to agree with him. The aroma was vaguely tart and, if I hadn't known better, seemed to have a hint of jasmine. It was strong but not overpowering like many dark roasts. And its richness indicated a very slow brew, likely an 18 to 24 hour process. "Take it gently though," Jack warned. "It has some hallucinogenic qualities."

"Where is it from again?" I asked.

"Trapsbury, just past where we are going," he said taking slow sip from his cup. "I'll try to see if we can bring some back with us. Might be a bit tricky though. Those Trapsburians are treacherous negotiators." I gave him my best "please Big Daddy" look. It works most of the time.

"Where does the bar get their baristas?" I commented while sipping some more and watching another fabulous creature salter her ass pass me, winking as she went by.

"The Kihobi are minority peoples who migrated to the same planet about 200 years ago when their sun died. They are coffee's cultivators. The Trapsbury are merchants but look to the Kihobi, who live in the jungle areas of the planet and are the artists when it comes to correctly harvesting this nectar." He noticed me take a rather large gulp, "Whoa big boy! Like I said, this isn't some Vietnamese dark roast. Be careful, now or I'll have to carry you to our cabin."

I was already feeling good and finally relaxed, so that didn't sound like a bad idea, particularly the longer I watched the cute baristas. Jack laughed at me then called for another round. When the one with the black skirt came back with our next round, he whispered something to her which again made her giggle. I sipped at the second cup while he flirted with her. I looked around the room. Not all the species were bipeds nor did some of them have what I would refer to as skin. But lust is universal and it has a distinct odor. Everything seemed to be grinding something and the music with words I couldn't comprehend swirled around like my head was part of a school of fish. After handing our cute barrista a card with something I couldn't read scribbled on it, Jack returned to me, "Come on. I think you've had your limit." Selfish asshole, I thought to myself as he pulled me out of the place.

Walking toward the lifts and then down a hallway toward the traveling cabins, I plotted my return to the bar. But, as usual, he was ahead of me, "Can you put the barista aside for just a minute and admire our accommodations?" He opened the door.

The man certainly knew how to change a subject. The cabin was amazing. Aaron Spelling's Love Boat needed to take some specks from this spot. It was definitely designed to stay in and not go out – a fully stocked bar and kitchenette, plush matching beige furniture throughout, living room with wide view of the passing stars, huge bedroom (although I didn't see that until later), two sink, brown marble bathroom with separate shower and bath tub, small office with desk containing a built in communication center glassed off from the living room with beautiful hardwood floors underneath the cushiest Indian rugs your feet ever rested on. Ah, did I mention that it also had a remarkable library and music system? "Brilliant!" was all I could say.

Jack grabbed me and kissed me on my forehead, "I thought you'd like it." He took off his coat and deposited it on chair close by. "Loosen your tie, Ianto," he said. "When I told you this was part vacation, I meant it." He got a bottle of what was probably beer from the mini bar. "I'm going put to call into Aliyah, let her know we are on our way and see if she has our cover situated." Just as he took a sip, there was a knock at the door. "Answer that, will ya," he asked going into the office area.

Standing on the other side was the barista from Narwhal's Cup. I noted her name tag said 'Chimia' and somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered how it was she had a name tag in English. She gave me a come hither smile as she walked past into the living room. Jack recognized her and knocked on the glass window to say hello. Were his blue eyes twinkling just a little more than usual? She turned to me and entered my personal space. She tugged on my tie and said something in her language that was probably akin to "want some of this?" I nodded yes.

She pushed me back, just enough to give me a good view of her act. I could feel the hallucinogen from the coffee seeping through my nerves just as I watched what few clothes she wore melt off her luscious body like butter and syrup dripping down hot flapjacks. I couldn't get my clothes off fast enough. I sat in one of the room's creamy, soft shell sofas and pulled her on top, facing me while she straddling my waist. Her brown, spotted skin was creamy and she was shaped like a Gaughin Tahitian beauty. I tasted her lips and my tongue tingled like I had eaten an entire box of pop rocks all at once. Her hair was luscious, simmering brown specks of light when I took apart the long braid in the back.

There had to be a remote control somewhere because the pounding rhythms of George Michael's "Freek!" came across some excellently placed speakers.

I'll be your sexual freak of the week
I'll be your inspirational brother
Yo mama can't you see
I'll be your sexual freak of the week
I'll be your educational lover
Your one fuck Fantasy

She turned around on my lap, facing away from me now. Like a cat worshipping its owner, she rubbed her body against mine in an incessant rhythm. I put one hand on a voluminous breast and my other on her hip to steady her against me. She leaned back into me. Her taunt nipple against my fingers and her moans against my neck were wondrous.

Can I come on in, my sweet baby

Can I move on in . . .

She projected herself off me again. I let out a disappointed groan as I watched her stand in front of me. At about 5'5" with palm size leopard spots that dipped down her back, wrapped around beneath her belly button then crossed around her long legs and disappearing at her ankles, she was an unbelievable sight. She straddled me again but was facing me again. Leaning into me, she licked just underneath my ear and moved over to bite my neck. Using some universal language, she promised to make me cum like no other before. She started to firmly stroke my growing shaft in movements that matched her body's. I would have bet millions that her fingers were bits of lightening especially made for my cock.

You got yourself some action
Said you got your sexy Java
You got your speed connection
Free chat, fuck that, get a little harder

Just as a small dribble of gism seeped from my engorged head, she withdrew from me again and I was immediately left feeling cold and yearning. Standing dominantly in front of me still in her red, three-inch spike heels, she smiled at me slyly. It made me think of Jack. I knew he must be enjoying this from behind the glass in the other room even while discussing business. He and Bill Clinton had the ability to be that kind of ambidextrous. But frankly, I didn't give a shit at that moment about Jack Harkness - I was going to have my dick wrapped up in whatever passed for alien pussy in this galaxy and it was going to happen now.

I reached out to grab her back to my lap but she pushed my hand away with a "no, no, no" look. She had other ideas. With a click of her tongue against her teeth, she turned her back to me and stuck out her ass. I got the idea and held up my dick. She backed in and sunk my cock directly inside her butt. Amazed by how wet and tight she felt, I sighed loudly with much satisfaction. Anuses in her world must get as wet as pussy does on mine because the inside of her ass was like a plush waterfall. She giggled then wiggled her hips once she was filled with my ample wand. Controlling the rhythm now, I squeezed and guided the sides of her bodacious ass, sliding her up and down over me at just the right angle to sheath me inside her to the top of my balls. Her long legs draped on the other side of mine, she leaned back against my chest, moaning lightly against my ear. Even her back was erotic and I was close to cumming, uncertain if my mind would explode before my balls did.

Honestly, I had forgotten about Jack until I spied him over her moving shoulders through my half closed eyes. One minute his gloriously, delectable ambisextrous self was smiling at us, naked and softly rubbing his cock, and the next moment he was gone. I found myself irritated with him initially, thinking he should have been jealous or at least not enjoyed watching me shag this intoxicating cat woman. Then, Alejandro Escovedo reminded me that

I was drunk,
I was down,
I was wanderin' round my bed,
I was drunk,
I was down,
I was wanderin' round my bed
I called out your name
Called out your name

The next thing I knew my sex partner's moans increased. Just as she stopped moving up and down, insisting instead on rolling her hips around my dick, I could feel Jack's tongue as it would start from the base of my balls and creep up over her clit. This started another rhythm, one that was all his own. Jack's tongue seemed to know what spot needed what attention - her clit liked thin, quick licks while I begged for his mouth to suck my balls like a hungry baby at a nipple. How did he do it? It must have been one of those techniques he learned from some alien swami or another during some Time Agency mission or another - or maybe it was the "dope coffee" I drank earlier. I hadn't ever felt anything like it before. At any moment I feared I'd lose consciousness and die before I had a chance to ask him how he did it. Chimia and I both started shaking, our skin prickled like shards of glass.

"No you two don't," Jack said while standing up and lifting Chimia's legs. "I'm not letting you be done this soon." He slide his dick in her cunt like a snakes move through a Louisiana swamp. She cried out, filled up and stretched out farther than ever in her life I suspect. It was exquisite for all involved. Jack had the control now and neither Chimia nor I were complaining. His dick rubbed against mine as we seesawed between her holes. While Jack's cock-rhythm was igniting sparks inside of Chimia's belly, I must have looked at him jealously. "Greedy bitch," he laughed. Bending down close to my ear, "I got something for you too" he added before kissing me deeply.

Oooh now that the moment's here
Baby lift my cup for you to drink my dear, Baby
Oooh I know that you're lovin me
Don't be ashamed baby, go on and take that thang

Chimia climaxed. Her shivers rattled around my cock with a massage therapist's deftness.

She collapsed again me with my dick still inside her. Her hips continued up and down slightly in time with her heavy breathes and I felt I was again on the edge. Lost in my pending organism, I didn't realize that Jack moved his cock until he had lifted Chimia's legs on to his shoulders. He placed my legs in the crook of his arms. His plunging into my ass was initially painful and I yelped out. He kept still but fully inside me to so I could adjust to his fullness. He seemed bigger than his usual, rounder than his usual hefty girth. My ass was on fire but in a good way. My grabbing the side of his ass signaled that I was ready and he began to move in and out of me in a building rhythm. I opened my eyes long enough to see him watching me - he often did that when we made love. He got great pleasure from my organisms. I slide down further into the couch and offered more of my ass.

I won't stop till your legs start shaking
Keep on going till your legs start shaking
Every motion till your legs start shaking
To what I know till your legs start shaking
You're so good till your legs start shaking
Like I knew it boo till your legs start shaking
I don't stop till your legs start shaking
Till I reach the top till your legs start shaking

Sleepy Brown's Till (Your Legs Start Shaking) was so right about this situation. As she recovered, Chimia's joined Jack's pace in a more deliberant manner, sliding up and down on my dick like before but this time I wrapped my free arm around her waist, holding on as a cycle of ecstasy reignited.

My organism started slowly, somewhere in the back of my ass then rumbling around hips. I started shaking again, braced myself mentally as I felt a mad rush envelope me. By the time my dick exploded, I was screaming, "Jack! Jack!" I began bucking against his cock while shooting sweet gism deep into Chimia's ass. She began to cum again too, as did Jack finally. I could feel his heat overflow then drip down the crack of my ass, likely ruining the pristine upholstery.

The room spun then collapsed around me. I did something between sleep and passing out for I don't know how long. I vaguely remember Chimia offering something of a "thank you" to Jack, kissing him on the cheek and leaving. Somehow he got me up from the chair and into the cushy bed. He nuzzled me in that fabulous 51st Century smell of his and I finally did fall asleep.

I could've stayed there in that bed with Jack's arms around me forever but then again, that wouldn't be the Torchwood way, now would it?

Chapter Three – Returning to Work?

Mornings on a cruise ships are kind to hangovers. You don't find yourself facing some bright, sunny light reminding you that you should have been up hours ago and you should be heading to work or some other useful endeavor instead of keeping your head under comfy covers. Unfortunately, this particular space vessel has Jack Harkness on it, whose cheerful razzing only aggregates a migraine.

"Hey gorgeous!" he said through two layers of bed linen. "I'm still your boss you know and you're on the clock." He must of taken my groan as acknowledgment. "I've got a good cure for you but I need you sitting up pronto." I pulled the cover down below one eye and realized he had kindly not put all the lights on in the room. He was standing next to the bed, obviously showered, fully dressed, and holding a cup of something that at least didn't smell as if it would turn my stomach. "This isn't 'hair of the dog' but I promise it will make the world a less scary place."

I took a chance and sat up, then grabbed at the drink, hoping it would prevent further stomach upset and porcelain hugging. Surprisingly, it was not only immediately soothing to the tummy but tasted good. I drank the rest greedily hoping, correctly it seemed, it would stop the world from spinning. "Alright!" I said and drained the oversize cup.

Jack smiled then dashed out of the room. He returned with the cabin's laptop. Aliyah was on some form of intergalactic Skype. "Hey you two! I see the accommodations are cozy but really Jack! TMI, folks. You could have given Ianto a chance to dress first." Shit, I had even forgotten I was still naked.

I was about to scramble out of the bed like some adult child having been caught shagging on visit to his parent's house but Jack yanked me back to my spot, "I thought to make you jealous that you didn't come with us," cooed my roguish partner. He sat down next to me on the bed and gave me a peck on the forehead before asking Aliyah, "What's you got for us?"

Aliyah, long used to Jack's ways, just shook her head, and put her glasses on to read the intel sheet she had for us. "Anyway, I've got your cover story and the papers are being forwarded to you now. You two really should have brought Gwen along with you for cover. You're two Chicago pimps looking to expand your business interests into weapons dealing."

"Sounds cool, man," I said to wary looks from both of them for my attempts at imitating an American accent.

"I think this is a time when your naturally quiet nature will come in handy," responded Aliyah.

"I think I have idea of how we can boost our cover," Jack in an attempt to rescue me but I still raised a wary eyebrow at him. He ignored me, "What else do you have for us?"

"Everything else, including your meeting spot is, in the communiqué," she removed her glasses to add emphasis to her next statement. "I can't tell you Jack how important this mission is. Things are delicate around here and the last thing we need is for either side to get a hold of weapons which would blow the whole region into full scale conflict."

"What kinds of weapons are we talking about here?" I asked.

"Plaster bombs for one," she brought an image of the weapon on the screen. "There're nasty explosives that imbed nanobits directly into the skin which literally eat the person from the inside out over the course of a few hours. And that's only one of them." The screen changed to show the effects but I turned away before it got to the really horrid parts. Even Jack was sickened. "I like to get a triple deal out of this," Aliyah continued. "One, to destroy the shipment, two find where the Machla are getting their arms, three eliminate them as a threat. However, if all I can get is the latter, I'll take it."

"Sounds good!" Jack confirmed. "We'll keep in communications black out from this point until we've finished."

"Look forward to hearing good news," she said. "Thanks, Jack." Then Aliyah signed off.

"Jack," I asked as he closed the laptop, "What if someone already knows we're here?"

"Not likely. If I give anything to those Torchwood Jerusalem folks it is that they know how to handle intel." He got off the bed, "I'm going to review these specs."

"No," I indicated rising up myself. Whatever he gave me took last night right out of my system, thus I was able to stand up with little stomach or head bothers.

"Ianto," his glance cruised up and down my nude body. "Darling, we really need to get to work now." His smile and trademark "come hither" raised eyebrow made it look like he could be convinced otherwise.

But, I was ready for business now, "I've got an appointment with the ship's tailor."

Monsieur Rainier was one of those rare Earthlings Jack told me about that got mixed up in some alien activity or another only to find that they had more of a life on another planet than they ever had on Earth. Usually, they were innocent felons of one kind or another. These folks tended to do well in places like this where there was no such thing as human resource departments or criminal back ground checks. More importantly, he came highly recommended by Aliyah. His was the one of the three tailors onboard but his shop was the smallest. The entrance had a golden sign that a fluttering of an eyelash would have missed, "Monsieur Rainier – Selective Male Clothing". The welcoming counter was no larger than most New York apartment walk in closets but Aliyah's intel convinced me that I shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

A wisp of a man, whose mannerisms would have made Truman Capote embarrassed, did seem to have my father's grasp of tailoring. I only had to describe Jack and he immediately pointed to the right patterns and fabric. And he was a man of his word, for no more than a handful of hours after my initial visit, he sent a message to our room that the outfits were ready for a fitting. In typical fashion, Jack had disappeared to god knows where to do god knows what. Since neither our coms nor cell phones worked aboard ship, I had to resort to requesting a ship's messenger - a prosimian looking creature who scampered throughout the ship calling out Jack's name like seen in so many 1940s spy movies. Eventually, my primate friend returned with a note from Jack saying that I should go ahead and he would meet me there. Of course, I arrived before Jack did.

"Mr. Jones, merveilleux! It is so, how shall I say, fabulous to see you again." I nodded, trying not to share my irritation with another person whose only crime was being prompt.

The flamboyant queen purred toward Jack who came in behind me, "And who is your ever most handsome companion?" I turned around to see a laughing Jack arrive with Chimia, in a different but similarly tight, shimmering outfit, her hand attached to his elbow. I wondered if their flush faces meant they had shared more than a stupid joke with each other prior to their arrival.

"This is my associate, Captain Jack Harkness," I explained, "and our other associate, er, Ms Chimia."

"Bonjour élégant!" Rainier, distinctly ignoring the woman, giggled like a school girl as Jack greeted the man with a slight kiss on the wrist. "Oh my, and a cap-tain no doubt!" If the man batted his eyelashes harder, he'd taken the moisture right off his eyeballs.

I wasn't jealous, just annoyed. Wasn't Jack the one talking about getting down to business? "I studied the fashion for our journey and came to Monsieur Rainier with the specs, per Aliyah's recommendation," I explained to him.

With Rainier's attention magically diverted back to the matter at hand, he prattled off to get our garments. "You two will be the most fashionable creatures on Familiaritas." He returned from the back of his shop with four large boxes than looked like they outweighed him by at least 50 kilos. "This style is fresh from opening season."

Jack unwrapped the box Rainier handed him like an eight year old at his first birthday party. Holding up the suit jacket, he crooned, "Oh, now this is style!" He held it out so Chimia, who was still holding on to his bicep, could see. Her giggles seemed to make her spots jiggle. Did nothing on this woman not move like a belly dancer at a bachelor party?

To keep from feeding my annoyance, I opened my box and found my suit as pleasing as Jack's. Aliyah was right - the sartorial workmanship was remarkable. The colors, the fabric choice, the needle work itself would have cost thousands of pounds on Earth. I knew I would look and feel delightful in this couture.

"We'll take it," Jack affirmed. "Put them on our travel tab." He was about to turn around to leave when he stopped himself. Looking at Chimia, he said, "And can you come up with something equally éblouissant as these suits for Ms. Chimia?"

Rainier frowned. "I work exclusively in men's wear." He thought for a moment once he saw Jack's pout, "I supposed for an additional fee to cover the cost of alternations, I can loan her the outfit one of my couriers uses." Rainier approached Chimia with his measuring strip. The aghast the cat woman bared her teeth and her eyes flared at the tailor. Jack patted her hand and whispered something reassuring in her ear. This got her to calm enough to allow Rainier to get his lengths and widths. Reluctantly and nearly snarling back at Chimia, the tailor reluctantly indicated, "I'll have it to your room in an hour." He was rewarded with a quick peck on the cheek from Jack, who promptly turned on his heel and left. I rolled my eyes before doing the same.

Once we were back in our suite, we couldn't wait to try on our suits. The cultural information from Torchwood Jerusalem indicated that the style of dress on Perturbatio, particularly its largest and most cosmopolitan town, Familiaritas, was similar to the zoot suits of the American 1940s and the 1950s British Teddy Boys. Jack's more resembled a zoot suit worn by Chicano or African-American males of the time. His was a rich, royal blue (to match his eyes) with high-waisted, wide-legged, tight-cuffed pegged trousers, a long coat nearly past his knees with wide lapels and even wider padded shoulders over a bright white shirt and matching blue and white suspenders and tie. To complete the ensemble, he also had a blue, big brim Fedora, white hatband accompanying long feather and pointy, French-style shoes. A young Malcolm X once described just such an outfit as: "a killer-diller coat with a drape shape, reet pleats and shoulders padded like a lunatic's cell".

My attire was more in the style of the Teddy Boy. My suit was an Edwardian style chutney green and mustard pin - stripe yellow drape jacket complimented by suede Gibson shoes with thick crepe soles, narrow 'drainpipe' trousers, a smart shirt lightened yellow shirt, and a bootlace tie. Both Jack and I's drape jackets are not as impractical as they may initially seem. Not only would they act as a badge of recognition within the community but, as they was made of woolen cloth with lots of pockets, it would keep us warm on a planet whose daily temperature barely got above 5 degrees at the height of the summer sun and was also good at concealing large or numerous weapons. I had a matching vest with a silver pocket watch but I skipped the hat opting for hair jelled into a quaff swept back into Duck's Arse at the back.

Chimia's costume arrived as Jack and I were dressing. Her people must not have a sense of modesty as she simply undressed and dressed while standing next to us. We just admired her and adjusted our clothes in the bathroom wall length mirrors. Her Teddygirl's outfit was an American styled, 50s brown circle skirt, with a low cut, tight cream colored, short sleeved sweater that made the woman's tits look more bulbous than they already were. There were hundreds of silicone Hollywood wannabies who wished their breasts did that to fabric. After putting on back seamed nylons, she poured her feet into what looked to be torturous Winkle Pickers shoes. She tied her long, auburn hair in a single ponytail with a bow that matched her skirt and I didn't know if she was ready to entice or kill someone.

Jack took note of an unopened box and pulled out a woman's ankle length coat. "Ah, how kind. Shetland Fur, very warm!" he said as he wrapped it around the shoulders of a clearly delighted Chimia.

"Jack, are you really meaning to take her along with us?" She must of known somehow that I was not only talking about her but not in a kind manner for she bounced over to me and kissed my cheek firmly, then tugged at my elbow while pleading through those long lashes.

"What are a couple of master pimps without their bitch, eh?" Jack responded while straightening his shirt in the mirror and admiring the reflection.

Without skipping a beat, Chimia planted another kiss on my cheek. This one was firmer and closer to my ear which left wet warmth on my skin and leading to chills down through my dick. "I guess," my cock eagerly agreed although my mind remained vaguely concerned.

Finally, able to pull himself away from his Dionysus moment, Jack announced, "We'll be arriving in 12 hours. It's time we go over the plan then rest before we land." He took note of my cock's attention to our new team member, then said, "Well, maybe only a little rest."

Chapter Three – The meeting

Khatara B'gidah was a nervous little man, more trollish than human. I immediately spotted him past the crowd of professional gyrators clouding the disco's dance floor. It is amazing that no matter the race or species, females move hips and ass that treats the eyes and moves the groin. But the enticing blue eyes and hungry smile on the countenance of one Captain Jack Harkness made every hip and ass move just a little bit stronger as we parted the sea of bodies crossing the room. I caught a few glances myself but, besides Chimia who looked like a china doll with spots, I prefer my females human.

Crossing over to fidgeting man's table booth, he looked at us like a bride expecting to be left at the altar. "You, Harkness?" he studdered.

"In person," chirped Jack. "Here are my associates, Ianto Jones and Chimia." Jack glided in the table next to the man, "What do you have for us?"

I let Chimia enter the rounded, connected hot red sectional before me not so much as a gesture of chivalry but so she could pick his pocket. Our cover was that of a group of professional arms thieves looking for new partners in an every expanding market. It helps to check out your competition before you negotiate - at least it works that way on Earth and I can't imagine the next galaxy would be any different. While Jack talked, I scanned the room, looking for anything that could dare be suspicious. Fortunately, all I saw were the female dancers and groups of lizard men with long tongues that Jack had previously described as langue precise. Rimming is an honorable past time on their planet.

"What do you know about the Machla?" Jack continued.

"I still don't understand why the Lady Teelbaulm recommended you to me?" complained Khataro.

"Listen," said the increasingly impatient Jack, "If you don't have or don't want to give up the information, we'll go elsewhere." Jack started to get up just as Chimia replaced the last item she stole with stones.

The little man raised his voice slightly, "No. I will help you." He looked around sheepishly before he spoke again. "Machla are race of engineers from a planet not far from here." I wondered what "not that far" meant in these parts - not that far meaning from Cardiff to London or not that far in Star Trek terms." He continued, "All they care about is wealth - making it and keeping it. They've been known to auction off their own children when they find the rare handsome or stunning one. Some say they have no conscious. Their entire focus on creating and selling goods. But their more like gamblers than businessmen, the higher stakes and riskier the product the better. Whoever bids the most, at the highest profit margin, and at the most risk is considered jumhardrey. It roughly translates to 'masculine'."

Chimia purred in his ears to get his attention away from her right hand which was checking his left shirt pocket but the attentions of such a ravishing female seemed to do nothing to calm his nerves. I believe at this point she was touching more to relax him as to prevent him from noticing what she was doing. "They found a fabulous market on Earth because they can sell weapons to both sides. They tend to seek out civil wars because they each compete to keep the balance of the war for as long as they can until they exhaust the market, so to speak, then they'll move on."

"What are they doing here?" I asked.

"On Perturbatio? For their second and third favorite activities, gambling and whoring. They get the females who visit this planet pregnant and return after their offspring's weaned to kidnap the males and bludgeoned the females. It is a planet solely of males and don't like to leave anything behind. They are a rather clean race."

"Great, homicidal gemaphobes," I murmured

"Oh! I must put that place on my bucket list!" announced Jack.

I rolled my eyes but why since I would love to watch him try managing to pull that train. "Can you get us a meeting?" I redirected.

"Yes," Khataro rubbed his hands, popping his white, bulbous knuckles and scaring himself at the same time. "I got something set up for you here, tomorrow night. We're to meet them by the roulette tables in the next room."

"Well, I'd better practice my spinning wrist," said Jack he stood.

When we were all up and a few feet from the table, I looked back to ask Khatara something, but he was already gone. We went into the gaming room, crowded with older versions of the same species we saw on the dance floor. Chimia grabbed Jack's arm, clearly excited to be in this room and whatever she whispered in his ear made him laugh uproariously. Frankly, I just need to take a leak.

I told them that I was hitting the can but I'm not sure how much either of them were paying attention. Coming out of the bathroom, a blunt object knocked me out. Later, Jack would say my being dragged out of the bathroom was ignored as the crowd probably thought it was "another intoxicated customer being escorted back to his room". Luckily, Chimia caught the color of my clothes in her make-up mirror through the confusion of the roulette table as the crowd surrounded Jack who was racking up winnings like bees collect pollen. From what was relayed to me later, Chimia tried to get Jack's attention but because she speaks another language that neither Jack nor I speak, he didn't understand her. Likely that was being kind. More likely is that an excited, winning (and drinking) Jack Harkness paid her little mind until she screamed "Ianto gone!" Good that she remembered my name.

Chapter Four – Well, here we are

It was between pounding from two heinous, smelly goons that I wondered if the rather detached feelings I was having was typical of torture survivors. I don't know how long my ankles had been tied to the chair or my hands handcuffed behind me, but if silence is golden, I need a Nobel Prize. Unexpectedly, I remember something I read in a 1942 Torchwood field guide. It helped that I was near unconsciousness anyway, so it wasn't really that hard to fake passing out. A man who presented in a commanding manner, entered the dark, concrete interrogation room and said something in a language I recognized as Malchain (I had bothered to read the dossier the Rabbi emailed us). I guessed correctly that he ordered "stop" and "cell" when I found myself dragged into a room that mimicked holding areas in the Hub basement where we keep the occasional wayward weevil or blowfish. I could see from the thick, plastic paneling, the rest of what appeared to be a warehouse but couldn't hear much. And it didn't help that all I could remember were a random few words. I really have to remember to ask the Rabbi to have her team put together an alien Rosetta Stone collection but for right now, I thought it best to lay quietly on the dirty floor and look for an opportunity to create an escape.

Faking a coma, wasn't too hard. My head hurt like hell and I wanted more than anything to have a glass of water or better yet a shot of Jack's hypervodka. Instead, I must have drifted off because the next thing I knew I was back at the hotel we landed at from the ship, La Prostituée Méchant. If we were traveling in the lap of luxury before, we were now on a common man's bus driving through the streets of outside of Bombay. Trapped by our suitcases and the sweaty bodies of our traveling companions, even Jack was at a loss for words.

The bus from the ship deposited us on a busy street surrounded by more neon lights than at the London Eye on New Year's Eve. Those lights were very beautiful, these are not. The air was dusty and smelled like a homeless man living off the docks. Folks walked strictly on the walkways because of the dung left by sloth beasts used for short distant transportation. It was as if a cow got caught in Seth Brundle's transmission booth with a cockroach. Not very pleasant to look at but the natives knew how to pack one with all our suitcases and us to move through the crowded streets to La Prostituée Méchant. We could have taken the "overrails" as Jack called them – flying minitransports – but Aliyah had warned us of the pickpockets, so we thought taking these smelly beasts would be better. "You'll get more of the local flavor," hollered Jack from his creature. Chimia held her nose.

The travel accommodations more than made up for by the exquisite architecture and interior design of the hotel. The exterior had a pre-war, Calcutta look with white marble pillars and ruby red carpeting along with a matching valet guiding guests through the entrance. Inside was wall-to-wall gambling tables and gangsters occupying them. We weren't dressed in our costume garb yet, so no one paid attention to us. But Aliyah was right, once we returned to the main room in our zoot suit apparel, people couldn't keep their eyes off of us.

Ah, now I know why I am remembering this while lying half-dead on a slab of concrete in a cell of some kind. One of my jailers was in the hotel lobby that night. His suit was awful and his cologne tragic. More importantly, it meant these guys have been following us from the beginning. So much for the cover. But the suits will make a nice addition to Jack and I's role play collection, if I ever get out of here and to the dry cleaners.

I started scanning around the cell for some escape options and an aspirin when I glanced past the plastic door. Just off to the corner, I got a glimpse of our contact, Khatara. He was talking to another man but I couldn't hear what was said, as his back was to me and his voice was less animated than Khatara, who was either pleading or arguing but definitely loosing. The other man was in all black which emphasized his blond hair. His hands though were dark, as if tanned. His tenure of his voice was a calming flatness. The two exchanged something but I couldn't see what, then larger man pushed Khatara past my view, likely down the hall.

The man in black turned around and returned to talk to my guards. I finally recognized him from the pictures sent to us from Aliyah. Samonson's face was a ghoul, green and pockmarked like a lunar surface. Lanky tall, hanging over his minions like vulture, he commanded with his eyes, which were allegedly naturally hypnotic. The guards responded to his softly spoken words like redirected robots. Samonson stood back, arms crossed with a sneer as they came toward me and I figured this was my last chance.

As my cell door opened, the two guards fell face first on the floor right in front of me. I tried to raise my head but the room started spinning so all I could grasp was the top of Jack's shoes and Chimia's toes – very nice nail polish.

Jack lifted me into his arms, "Are you okay?"

"My head is killing me." My left eye was swollen shut by now but I could see his worried look.

"We better hurry up and get you back to the room," he smiled weakly at me while stroking my face. He tried to lift me but my ribs preferred me lying down. "We'll get those rapped up. Do you think you can walk?" I nodded despite my uncertainty. Chimia put my arm around her shoulder and Jack took the other side to head out of my torture chamber.

"Wait!" I interrupted. "I saw Khartara. He was with Samonson. He's betrayed us."

Jack dismissed this and started moving me. "I don't care about that now. I care about you."

Chimia's skills keep revealing themselves. She negotiated a new room at a hotel off the strip rather quickly, no questions asked. This was good as I kept moving in and out of consciousness as Jack's face became grimmer each time I winced. Once we settled in our smaller, much less lush accommodations, Jack removed my clothing and put me in the bed. He examined my ribs, checked me for fever and my blood pressure. "I don't think your bleeding internally but you took quite a pounding and I don't think you'll be moving around for a while."

"Where's our girlfriend?"

"I sent her to get some medical supplies."

"Ah, she's learned English quickly." Jack nodded but still looked grim, walking around the bed as if trying to find something else to do. "I'm better Jack. Relax. Wrap my ribs, get some aspirin in me and a good night's sleep and I'll be right as rain."

"Right." He gently sat on the bed next to me, careful not to rock the mattress, then helped me to sit up. He unbuttoned my shirt and frowned at my bruises, "It looks like two are broken."

"It feels like twelve," I laughed which immediately made me groan. He smiled reassuredly and began wrapping. "Jack, what are we going to do about Khartara?"

Chimia came in the door with bags, chatting in her native tongue and pushing Jack out of the way. She had numerous bags and looked like she had just come from Macy's. "Caring for the Ianto Jones." She started applying a strange smelling green suave then wrapped my torso with a silk-like clothe that applied soft and tender then hardened like a cast in a few moments. She made me drink this bubbly coffee that relaxed me like valium wished it could. Satisfied that her work was done, she bounced off to the adjacent kitchen, singing softly to herself. Next thing I knew, I was laying back against fluffed pillows, peacefully hallucinating about dancing polar bears.

Jack stood back and smiled. "You look comfortable." He had his hands on his hips, seemingly pleased at my current state. "Well, I think it is time I talk with our friend, Khartara."

"Really?" I said slyly. "Could you fluff my pillows before you go?"

I fell asleep nicely after that.

Chapter Five - Counter-trap

The smell of Khatara's weakness woke me up from another room. Jack took revenge very seriously and was quite efficient. I should feel ashamed. I took a sick pleasure in thinking it was being done for my benefit. Revenge is sweetest when served in bed.

I cannot say how many days I lay in that bed. I sat up easily with little pain. I felt rested and just a little brave. I pulled off the wrapping and was amazed at finding no bruising nor protruding bones. Chimia's doctoring was a fine cure.

I got out of bed and was immediately hungry. The slight breeze against my balls reminded me that I was still naked. I grabbed a towel from a nearby chair to cover my jewels. Although they are less impressive than Jack's, Chimia, who had just walked by the door, still smiled at me like a dirty Japanese school girl. She peeked her head in. "Mr. Ianto Jones is better!" she declared. "Mr. Ianto Jones must eat," she concluded before scurrying off. I decided to let her feed me.

I found my suitcase on the floor next to the bad impression of a French armoire. Now that I was fully conscious and without pain, the whole room looked like some pre-World War II bed and breakfast in Bordeaux. I took out some pants and a shirt then slowly dressed myself, figuring it was time to venture out of the bedroom and back into the world of alien domination.

I found Jack and Khartara in what passed for a livingroom. Unexpectedly, Khartara, albeit clearly frightened, wasn't tied to anything and surely wasn't bruised. Jack was pacing. "His story checks out," Jack revealed. Jack leered at the man which made him sink further into the hardback chair that was beginning to blend into his backside.

"What story? You talked to Aliyah?"

"Yeah," said Jack with a twinge of disappointment. "It appears our friend here has had his daughter held for ransom until he turns us over to Malcha". Jack walked closer to the cowering man and hung over him like a lioness deciding which part of the prey to eat first. "I was just finishing my explanation of why he should reconsider his alliance." Jack turned to look at me and approached stealthy, temporarily distracted from his torture victim. "How are you feeling?" He kissed me deeply and sighed as he pulled away, "Never mind, you feel wonderful."

"I'm feeling great," I said. I held him just a moment longer as I allowed a familiar beat flow through my groin, "Chimia must have been a doctor on her planet. That remedy she gave me was brilliant." Jack's smile widened and his blue eyes gleamed. "But, I want to catch these guys now," I assured him. "Tell me what I can do."

Jack kissed me again possessively on the cheek then gave me a quick hug before whispering in my ear, "Let me catch you up on things." We walked over to the laptop. "Like I said, his story is confirmed. Aliyah confirmed the existence of Abeer, Khatara's daughter." Jack brought up a picture of a 16 year old, female version of Khatara. "They killed the mother to get to the daughter." As he showed me the ransom note, Khatara whimpered in his hands in the background.

"We just need to go back to where you found me," I suggested.

"Did that already," said Jack while closing the computer. "Unfortunately, it was all cleared out. I don't think the weapons were there anyway."

"Why's that?"

"Just a hunch. I didn't notice any boxes or crates nor any indication there ever was any."

"Curious." I thought aloud to myself.

"Really?" asked Jack.

"Yeah, as between blows they talked about getting a shipment but I never could catch from where or whether or not it had already arrived."

Turning to our new guest, Jack inquired, "What did they tell you, my friend?"

"Nothing," Khartara said quickly as if doing so would assure his plausibility. "All I knew is that they wanted to know your whereabouts."

"How did they know about us?" I asked.

Kharatara exhaled with relief, possibly because he was assured we wouldn't kill him anytime soon, "They've been following me for weeks and learned I've done some work for the rabbi in the past." Chimia entered the room with what smelled like some kind of herbal tea that she served everyone, including our prisoner, despite Jack's disapproving look. She gave him an "even prisoner's get a final meal" look and wiggled her backside out of the suite with a triumphant look on her face. "They didn't want you three in particular until they knew who Ms. Teelbaulm was sending."

"And how did they know that?" demanded Jack.

"They beat it out of my wife before they killed her, as you already knew."

I touched Jack's shoulder to indicate that we should end the interrogation now. "Can you get us back to Samonson?" I asked the now weeping man.

Khatara composed himself, "Yes. I'm supposed to meet with him this evening."

Jack looked sternly off to the distance, thinking. "Tell him you have located us." I gave him a questioning look. "That's what he is expecting, is it not? That you hunt us down and to he's to give you your daughter back?"

"Yes," the defeated man admitted.

"Fine. We will give him what he wants in spades!"

"But you could get her killed!"

"Maybe, but I doubt it," said Jack as he put on his long coat. "Listen Khatara. You'll gonna have to do something we tried to do with you – trust us."

"I'll get dressed," I said as I started for the bedroom. I must have moved too fast for the room began to spin and the next I knew, falling was a real possibility.

"No you don't!" said Jack as he caught me before I made a complete fool of myself. "You're going back to Earth and you're going now. It's already arranged."

"I'm alright. I just need a minute to get my bearings."

"No you're not!" said Dr. Martha Jones as she entered the suite with Chimia directly behind her. Chimia winked coquettishly at the slightly embarrassed physician as she swished past and into the kitchen with a small bag of what appeared to be groceries. "I just finished checking your labs and whatever this toxin they used on you is still active."

"Martha," I asked, surprised, "How did you get here? I thought you were on your honeymoon."

"Jack called me after I had just gotten back." She walked over dressed in hospital white, black bag in hand, mnb and escorted me to a nearby chair. She started taking equipment out to do the routine doctor tests.

"I called her here," said Jack, "when you weren't waking up. I didn't dare use the local hospitals and Chimia's people had done all they could. We didn't know what was wrong"

"How long was I out?"

"A week."

"Shit," I said. No wonder Jack was worried.

Martha took my blood pressure, checked my heart rate, then drew some blood into a small vial she shook until it turned an ugly blue color. "I love these portable lab tests UNIT has," she said. She looked at the coloring grimly though, then added, "Damn, whatever this is is still in your system. Your white cell count is quite high." She made entered data into her PDA, "Jack, he really needs to come back with me where I can do some proper testing. His vitals are stable and the Tylenol is keeping the fever at bay but I don't want to start him on an antibiotic until I know what I'm dealing with."

"I should stay and help," I declared.

"Nope, Ianto. Doctor's orders!" Jack countermanded. "And such a cute doctor at that." He stroked her cheek teasingly. "Besides, whatever they shot into you may be a clue about what they're trying to bring to Earth."

"You think it is a bio-weapon?" asked Martha.

"I overheard some talk amongst their scientists about concentrating on arms that 'are light but carry a wide spreading bang'," said Khartara.

"So see Ianto you'll be helping with the investigation after all. It is likely they were using you as part of their final experiment. The sooner Martha gets you to a med-lab and figures out what's in you, the sooner we'll know what we are dealing with."

Chimia came out of the kitchen and handed me what looked like a bagged lunch and what was probably a thermos, likely containing the coffee she gave me earlier that made sleeping such a fabulous experience. To think I spent a week dreaming of naked dancing Jacks. She handed Martha a similar package and while Martha tried to blush her way through a "thank you", Chimia still patted her ass. "Next time Dr. Martha Jones stay. Now fix the Ianto Jones." Damn, her English was getting better all the time.

"How are we getting back? I'm assuming we are going to Earth."

"Aliyah's waiting for us now."

"Nice, I've always wanted to see the Mediterranean." I took a slip of my coffee. It tasted stronger than the last batch Chimia gave me. It was just as I asked this that I realized the answer, "So how did you say we're traveling back?"

"Martha, much to my chagrin, has a much better vortex manipulator than I," said Jack as he caught me again, this time as I fell trying to stand up from the chair. "I really have to talk to The Doctor again about that."

His kiss on my forehead lingered as my cells shifted through the ether.

"Ready luv?" Rhys' voice startled Gwen and she nearly jumped out of the chair.

She was absorbed by Ianto's writing but up to this point, she knew the story. Out of guilt, she tried to hide the diary, "I'm ready. Just this box left but I think Rhiannon is sending it to charity."

"What's that you have there?" asked Rhys pointing to the obvious bump in her jacket.

"Nuthin'"

"Oh, come on, Gwen! What are you hiding?" he tried to grab at her, which made Gwen giggle and eventually drop the book. Rhys picked it up and held it over his head as Gwen tried to jump up toward it.

Finally, lack of oxygen due to laughter stopped them both. Rhys opens the book and immediately identifies Ianto's handwriting. "Geeze, Gwen. Isn't this a bit macabre?"

"Yes, I know," she said grabbing the book back. "I can't help it." She tucked the book under her arm. "Jack was rather harsh toward Ianto before . . . before his death." With a fore long look, she continued, "After Ianto died, naturally Jack took it hard, particularly considering it came so close to Tosh and Owen's." She sighed, "I know Jack loved Ianto deeply but I got a sense there was something else. Some other regret maybe?"

"You think you'll find it in there?"

"Maybe. I don't know. But I gotta know what Jack I'm going to get whenever he decides to return."

"I'm not sure he's coming back this time."

"He came back before," Gwen sighed. "Jack's always said there was something special about us."

Rhys nodded, "Come on. It's getting dark and cold in here. Let's go home and I'll make you and the baby a cup of tea."

A few hours later, Rhys is out cold on the couch next to Gwen. She takes the diary from off the table, smirked, certain that she is about to get her revelation.

Chapter Six: Dreaming on the shores of Ein Gedi Beach

I was like a dog on a family trip – turning from Route 1 to Route 90 in an open air jeep, riding along the Israel's eastern coast. It was the first time in three weeks, I had been out of the basement caverns of the Shalem Center, known by us alien hunters as Torchwood Jerusalem. I was sick of being sick, as once I returned home my illness worsened. Martha struggled for several days before finally arriving at the correct diagnosis then the right cure. For some time after that I would have kept the disease rather than continue the cure.

Aliyah, always an amazing contrast of the Jewish mother's temperament and stealth sensuality, decided to take over my convalesce once I had my strength back – she knew I was missing Jack. We had only heard from him once – a quick note saying everything was "okay" and he and Chimia were "close". I was wondering if he was referring to capturing the arms or how much time they spent in bed – not that I was jealous or anything (although it is probably in bad taste to lie to your diary).

Tired of my moping around the guest quarters, it was Aliyah's partner Sarah's idea to take me to an exclusive spa at the Dead Sea. Aliyah was likely hoping this little day trip to the beach would take my mind off of things.

It was working, somewhat. The salty air was cleansing. The light weight cotton, tan shirt and pants and brown sandals were not my typical attire but Aliyah was right again that it too helped my mood.

Then there was the resort itself. Ein Gedi is an oasis located in the Judean Desert between Masada and the caves of Qumran. Sensing that I needed time alone in a crowd, Aliyah encouraged me to join a tour. Thus, I spent several morning hours following two riverbeds trails past waterfalls through the adjacent nature reserve bird watching site near the Nubian ibex and an early Bronze Age temple. I met up with Aliyah back at the spa in the early afternoon. Ein Gedi Spa, on the shores of the Dead Sea with the Judean Hills to the west and facing the Mountains of Moab to the east, sits at the lowest spot on earth. I spent a few moments after receiving the best massage of my life (except Jack's) floating aimlessly in the thermo-mineral springs of the Dead Sea. I should have been calmer than the Dali Lama on vacation.

I was still anxious for Jack's return.

Aliyah met me at the beach chairs once she was done with her "Jewish yoga" workshop. She was smiling and looking better than Angelina Jolie after a U.N. speech. But one look at me made her turn around and go back to the hotel. I felt bad – she was trying to make things better and I wasn't helping much. A few moments later, she returned and promptly sat down in the lounge chair next to mine with a tropical drink in both hands and a large beach bag over her shoulder.

"You're sitting here in one of the most beautiful spots on Earth worrying about Jack Harkness!" She handed me one drink then leaned back in the chair to sip on the other. I had to admit, the citrus smell was getting to me. "I've know that man since his days at the Time Agency and I've seen him get in and out of more scrapes than any one still alive."

I smiled. I've watch my fair share of his miracle escapes. "It sounds crazy but this is the longest I've ever been away from him since joining Torchwood Cardiff."

"Well," Aliyah said almost absent mindedly between slurps, "you won't have to be without him much longer."

"Why?"

"Because he's standing right behind you."

I turned around in my chair to stare up in those beautiful blue eyes that were more dazzling to me than the sun and with a confident grin that assured me he missed me too. "Jack!" He grabbed me and gave one of his classic mouth tingling kisses – which I'm sure shocked the rather conservative tourists around us.

Aliyah smiled and took a Kindle from her bag. "We're leaving after breakfast tomorrow you two." She put on her granny glasses and started to settle in to an electronic book, "Don't be too late."

I'm not sure an open-air hotel room is the best place for two lovers to reunite but I guess I wasn't thinking about it then. I wanted him to take away all the loneliness and fear I had been saddled with all these weeks. Yet, he kept trying to talk about the mission or ask me about my health. All I wanted to do is take his clothes off (and mine of course).

"Whoya big boy! Don't you wanna know what happened?"

"Later," I said while unbuttoning his shirt.

"What about Chimia?"

"Did she come back with you?"

"Sadly, no."

A quick vision of them romping around in some strange hotel bed stole my thoughts for a second but I decided that too could wait. "Later still."

"Not the weapons?"

I had the shirt off and was licking his nipples while working on his pants zipper. "Much, much later!"

He laughed lightly then lifted my face in his two hands. Kissing me deeply again, with his tongue lapping up against mine who steps I quickly recalled. I held his face too and after a few moments we stopped and just looked at one another.

"I thought about it," I said finally, my voice hopeful and determined. "Jack, let's get married."

Gwen dropped her cup of tea which awakened the sleeping Rhys curled up next to her on the couch.

"What happened?"

"Rhys, you won't believe this. Ianto asked Jack to marry him!"

"What? Can they do that? I mean, when was this?"

"Yes, of course," she chastised him, "It's legal here and in some other countries." She tried to wipe the wet spot on the arm of the couch with a paper towel from the coffee table. "It happened after they got back from that mission for Aliyah. Remember? They went on that while we were at my aunt's funeral."

"Ah, yeah," Rhys yawned. "But they never went through with it, did they?" He repositioned himself, trying to get comfortable again. "I mean, they never invited us or anything."

"No. Neither of them ever breathed a word. I wonder if Aliyah even knew. I've gonna read some more."

He took in a heavy breath but didn't stop smiling, albeit he pulled back a bit. "What are you saying?"

"Aliyah could marry us. I've thought about it." Jack pulled farther away this time and sighed deeply. Desperate, I added, "We get along, fighting aliens and all. We enjoy each other's time but know when to leave the other alone." He ran his fingers through his hair like he always does when he's nervous or confused. Just then I thought maybe I was saying the wrong things. So I went to the heart of the matter, "Men do it all the time now and it is legal here."

"I know."

"Then what's wrong? I know you've been married before, to women, several times." My mind was reeling, "Haven't you ever been with a man, I mean, for the long haul?"

There was a drink stand next to the bed with chilled champagne, something likely Aliyah arranged. Jack poured himself a glass and drained it immediately. "You know I've been with many people in my life. Some relationships have been longer than others."

I took it all as a 'no' and felt foolish. "I'm sorry," I said, defeat dripping from my voice. "I just thought . . . honestly, it was something that just came over me," I lied. I began straightening my clothes. "Listen, just forget I said anything." I tucked my shirt into my pants and looked around for a matching tie. "There is a café downstairs in the hotel I haven't checked out. I'm hoping to find some new blends."

I found the tie and make a half-hearted attempt to put it on. In frustration, I tossed it on the floor and turned to leave the room. Jack had already planted himself on the king size bed, sucking down his second glass of booze. I couldn't look at him though as my eyes were clouded by humiliation.

I turned the door knob to leave when he said, "Ianto."

"What?" Anger was keeping me from becoming a complete pansy.

"I didn't say no." He got off the bed and came up behind me. I dare not turn around and face him – not yet. "But I don't do rings." He hugged me close and kissed the back of my head, "A ring will throw off my aim."

"Rhys!" Gwen turned and shook her husband roughly this time. "Jack said yes. Can you believe it?"

"I can believe anything out of that man," said Rhys deciding that he would never get back the comfortable spot. "I just can't believe Ianto would be that foolish. I mean I like Jack and all but I always took Ianto as a, I don't know, a more sensible man." Rhys grabbed up the couch blanket and folded it.

"Well, all I know is that he loved Jack deeply," she took a sip from her cup and wrinkled her nose when she realized it was quite cold. "How about being a love and warming this up for me, eh?"

Reluctantly, Rhys took the cup from her. "Well, I don't know why. I mean how many lovers and wives has Jack had anyway? If I was Ianto," he stopped and considered that starting line, "well, I would have thought about it some more, that's all."

"I don't think they went through with it," she said scanning ahead a few pages in the diary, "and for some reason I think that has to do with Jack and not Ianto."

Rhys returned with the fresh cup, "One point for Ianto then". He kissed her on the forehead, "Don't be up too late. It won't be good for the baby."

Gwen smiled back at him, "I won't. There isn't much left. It seems to stop shortly after they returned and this 456 mess started. As a matter of fact, the 456 wasn't even mentioned in here. He likely didn't have a chance to record anything, so much was happening so fast." She looked forlornly at the book, "I am certain Jack loved Ianto dearly but his death wasn't unusual for Jack – he's watched many a lover die, sometimes naturally and others through our work. But, Ianto's did something to him and the clue to it is in here somewhere - something that will tell me why this death is worse than any of the others." Gwen rubbed Rhys' arm and said reassuringly, "I won't be long. And it isn't like I have to go to work in the morning."

"Yeah, that's true," he yawned and turned toward the bedroom. "'Nite, luv."

She nodded, already back in the story.

I thought of making love but thought better of it, considering the situation. Instead, I took his hand and led him to the bed. He came willingly but avoided looking me directly. Instead, he kissed me again, tangling his tongue with mine. Usually, this worked whenever he wanted to distract me but it was too obvious this time. I pushed him off and on the bed. He got the message and simply laid back against the headboard of a bed made for comfortable sleep and cushioned fucking. I sat near his hips, watching his flaccid cock confirm the lie his tongue had just offered. Time to move to another subject, "You didn't tell me all of what happened on Familiaritas."

Jack put his hands behind his head and offered the end of the story of another successful operation. It turned out that the weapon the Machla intended to sell was biological, a virus similar to the one they tested on Earth during World War I – what was known as the Spanish Influenza. Like many bioweapons of that time, although it killed millions, controlling the kill direction was impossible. The new virus was really an organic nanobot, but this time it could be programmed specifically for the genetic makeup of either one person or a set of people.

I was a convenient test dummy. If I hadn't been rescued when I was, I would have been dead in another hour. Chimia's treatment kept the virus from replicating in my system while Martha's work diagnosed and neutralize it. "What's different about this virus is that it will always be inside you but unless triggered through some reactivation device, it shouldn't cause you any problems."

"Reactivation?" I didn't fancy the idea of little gremlins swimming around my blood stream.

"Don't worry. I took care of it." Jack said closing his eyes and shifting his weight on the bed. "I destroyed the reactivation device and 'encouraged' Samonson to wipe the drive containing all the potential targets before I decapitated him." As is typically the case, he was the hero. "Unfortunately, there are still Machla out there. We will likely meet with them again," Jack yawned

"Khataro and his daughter Abeer?"

"They came back with me. Aliyah has them in a form of witness protection. They should be fine."

"Chimia?"

Jack opened his eyes and gave me a wicked smile, "Missed her too, eh?" He chuckled when he saw me blush. "She was terribly invaluable in your absence. I asked her but she wanted to remain with her people." He sat up. "Plus, I wasn't certain how I was going to explain those spots."

"True."

We just looked at each other, neither know what else to say. I offered a half-hearted smile and looked down. "Why don't we see if Aliyah and Sarah are free and get some dinner?"

"Brilliant." Some more distracted time is probably what he needed.

Chapter Seven – Discoveries

The four of us drove back to Jerusalem and had dinner at Sheyan, a famous kosher, Chinese restaurant located in the historic Windmill on Ramban street in Rechavia. One of the largest restaurants in the area and known for having its own noodle factory on the premises, the food was probably marvelous. And, if Jack's consumption of it was any gauge, the chilled exotic schnapps (plum liqueur and champagne) was probably delicious also. However, my pensive mood held my appetite hostage. The ladies didn't act as if they minded his slight over indulgence but I know Aliyah's not stupid. Later she would likely ask me what was wrong albeit I appreciated her current discretion.

We returned to their Hub's living quarters. Aliyah touched my arm reassuringly before heading to bed with her partner. Jack, surprisingly, stumbled with me to my quarters. Although not as lush as the hotel, it had been a cozy spot to recuperate. It was above ground, unlike our Hub and thus had windows albeit heavily reinforced, likely with some type of alien polymer. Simple furniture design in brownish hues included a chaise sofa, a king size bed, and a two seated kitchenette table. Amenities included a small refrigerator/freezer, large Kohler sink, with a two burner stove and microwave. The mounted flat screen television with attached, side Bose speakers also served as part of the computer system that accessed the Hub's server and printers on the lower floors, with the keyboard typically resting atop of a large six dresser drawer. Two side tables with Hillard lamps framed the bed. The shower and bathroom was small but adequate. For what amounted to a two room suite, it was more than adequate.

"Come here." Jack was in one of his commanding moods. He spread himself across the chaise section of the sofa revealing the bulge in his pants. I walked to him and stood above, such that he needed to take my hand to encourage me to cooperate. I knew what he wanted but he was going to have to ask. As Aliyah always says, "the sub always runs the relationship." "I wanna feel those sweet lips all over my cock." He squeezed my fingers with one hand while expectantly rubbing himself with the other.

Like many a reluctant lover, I acquiesced and sat down next to him. While I removed my shoes and jacket then loosened my tie, he settled down lower on cushions and deftly removed his cock from behind his boxers and from between his pants zipper. He kept his coat on as traditional, I like to feel it in my hands when I suck him. Sometimes I make him put it on when he is naked. Typically, it makes me hard to watch him in it but not this time.

I have a technique and process. Like men centuries younger than him, Jack can cum multiple times and actually prefers it. But, if I do things just right, I can make him cum so big the first time that he falls into a deep sleep quite quickly after I'm done. I start by slowly licking just under his balls, one at a time, with the full width of my tongue. Then I circle around each ball until he begins to squirm. The shifting of his hips and the short groans are akin to begging. Sometimes I let this go on long enough so that he begins to rub his dick on his own but this time I wanted to keep things short and sweet.

Cupping both balls in my left hand and balancing myself with my right, I raise up so that I can take his dick in my mouth. I sucked at a moderate speed but only half his dick. This raises the stakes, as I know he wants more and inevitably, he grasps both sides of my head and direct me all the way down over his dick. I long ago learned to relaxed my throat and can take all of him with little effort but I still stiffen a little just to make him think he is in control.

Lingering at the base of his dick, my lips massage the hairs springing from his groin. Jack bobbed his hips slightly and I knew things were building. Now I moved to part three. My lips moved lightly at a slow speed up and down the full length of his cock, giving extra attention to the space just below his head. His hands dropped to his sides and grabbed the sofa clothe.

I opened my eyes to look at him directly. Between pleadings for me not to stop, he bit his lower lip. This was the sign to drive things home. The fourth move is to restrict my sucking to the area just below his head to his head's midsection. I do this in a circular motion, pulling at his cock ever so slightly. Jack always said that is mimicked masturbation with a generous handful of K-Y. It was a technique that never failed to please and soon I was rewarded.

"Oh, Ianto!" was all he could say as he shot an intense load of cum into my mouth. Personally, I think it is impolite not to swallow. And I always rest my head on his chest afterwards, allowing him to pet my face as his quivering organism settles. I had done a very good job this time because as I had hoped, I could hear him begin to snore shortly after blowing his load. I have often thought of putting this into a book as I am sure lots of ladies and some guys would appreciate it, particularly in moments like this when you just want to get through it."You're falling asleep," I confirmed.

"No I'm not," he said, eyes still closed. "Come up here with me," he said as he turned to his side.

I stood up and gathered a free throw and a pillow from the bed. I tucked his head under the pillow and covered him up as he complained of not being tired. I stood there for a few moments, assuring myself that he was completely asleep. He has the most beautiful smile when he is awake but asleep he is just angelic. Too bad I was still mad at him.

There was no way I was going to sleep at this point. I decided to indulge in my favorite past time, exploring Torchwood records. I know everything about the UK Torchwood teams and have read electronic archives of some of the other sites. But most Hubs have records that were produced prior to computers and haven't been archived on the servers. Typically, these are unofficial records, such as holiday photos, scrapbooks of special events, and diaries. They often tell more than any report can about the inner the workings, relationships, and adventures of a Hub's team.

I had read about Aliyah's team since I had been in Jerusalem. She generated a great deal of loyalty from her team, many of whom had been with her for years at a time. I had already read several team members' diaries, skipping Aliyah's out of respect. This Hub did something others did not in that it maintained an open photo diary for each year of its existence. The stack went all the way back to 1897, shortly after the first Zionist Congress in Basle, Switzerland and the Hub's founding. The Hub was small back then but important although no rift activity was identified. Queen Victoria correctly predicted the rise of a Jewish state sometime in a future and feared that whatever caused the rifts to appear would eventually come to the holy land. When Aliyah arrived, she raise what before were just yearly group pictures to a full fledge school year book with photos and notations throughout that highlighted the goings on of that particular year, starting with 1947, when she took over leadership.

The Shalem Center served as part peace college, part distraction from its real role as a critical arm of the government's fight for survival. The Israelis had more enemies that just the Arab world and Iran. Some of the terrorist attacks blamed on one Palestinian group or another , particularly in the 1970s, were actually other-worldly invasions. However, the government thought it best to keep this information from the people lest some ultra-Orthodox Jewish group mistake the intergalactic contact as the coming of the messiah and raly Jews and Christians alike into some kind of uproar. However, the veneer of a university was rather thin particularly since the Hub yearbooks could be found in the "special section" unit of the Institute's library.

It was well after mid-night on a Friday, post mid-terms so the library was vacant. I had left off in the mid-80s. Settling down on a typical library's wooden chairs and tables, I set my iPod on a series of Haydn symphonies and opened to September 1984 through August 1985. Much of the photos and written notations surrounded Operation Moses, the rescue 8,000 Ethiopian Jews who were being severely persecuted in that country. I would have put the book down rather quickly if it hadn't been the interesting article highlighting the rich history of Judaism in Ethiopia and three group photos that contained Jack Harkness.

The first photo had him alone in an airman's uniform standing next to a cargo plane (is there anything this man hasn't done?) and in the second he was standing with a group of other fliers, his arm around two men. The last photo grabbed me by the chest – Jack facing another man (one of the fliers from the second photo) with Aliyah in full rabbi garb in the middle. They were on the Ein Gedi beach at sunset and Jack was putting a ring on this man's finger. The photo's caption said, "Wedding of Jack Harkness and Eliezer Steinberg, May 26, 1985."

The nice thing about being involved with an immortal is that you are never at a loss for more history. I quickly went to the computers to find out more about the man who was able to get Jack to wear a ring. According to the records, 29 year old Eli Steinberg joined Torchwood Jerusalem five years earlier, recruited from a Hub in the states after his parents discovered he was gay and this grandson of immigrant Holocaust survivors was shunned from his Orthodox Jewish community. The revelation also threatened his career in the U.S. Air Force and the self-proclaimed military "lifer" faced forced renunciation of his commission. He decided to take his abilities as a West Point graduate to serve through the Mahal Hesder program for nonIsraeli Jews who want to enlist in the Israeli Defense Forces. He was an exceptional officer and served in Operation Moses – a meaty man, over 2 meters and 12 stone, 12 (NOTE TO AMERICAN READERS: this is equivalent to approximately 6'1" and 180lbs), soft sandy brown hair with natural highlights, caramel colored eyes in a round face. If Jack had a type, this was it. The archives noted the marriage but gave little details other than other missions and said nothing more about Jack. Steinberg left no diary but died young, February 13, 1988 of Kaposi sarcoma, an "AIDS-defining condition".

"He never told you about Eli," Aliyah declared. She was standing behind me but I was not surprised, only startled that it was already 6am.

"Why should he?"

She walked around and sat to my right, sighing while she continued, "Because the more you know, the more of a choice you have in this relationship." She removed the glasses perched on her nose, "It isn't my place to tell you now either. You should ask him yourself."

"He'll just blow me off as usual."

"Maybe not this time," she said. "Doing so will make it easier for him to do whatever it is he will do next." She stood up and kissed the side of my head, like a mother putting her son to bed. "It will also help you make up your mind."

"Make up my mind about what?" She was talking in circles and I was already frustrated.

"If you want to spend your life with a man whose demons stretch out for eternity."

Chapter Eight – The Second Time's the Charm

I returned to the room. Jack was still snoring quietly and comfortably on the sofa so I undressed and got in the bed. When I awoke from my fitful sleep, around 11:30am, he was gone. I got up, showered and dressed then took Aliyah's advice about where to likely find Jack - Har HaMenuchot cemetery, where Eli was buried. When I found Jack, he was putting small rocks on the head stone, a traditional action done when visiting the grave of a Jewish person to indicate symbolic participation in the mitzvah, commandment from God, of erecting a tombstone.

"Aliyah told you, eh?" Jack asked as I approached, his back to me.

"I found out," I responded. His head dropped, saying nothing for quite some time, "Should I leave?"

"No. She's probably right . . . as always. You deserve to know," he sighed and sat on the ground by the headstone.

I sat across from him, leaning against a stone bench. He raised his head but didn't look at me directly, which is unusual. I let my head fall, closing my eyes so I could play it all out in my mind. "Aliyah was called by the government. There is an inactive rift that runs through the area where the airlift was scheduled. Prime Minister Shamir wanted to make sure nothing would go wrong. He didn't want to take any chances with these people as many believe them to live the faith the closest to that of biblical times. A lot was at stake and he trusted Aliyah, particularly her discretion. Unlike us, the government here protects Torchwood – recognizes its value but keeps it a secret to protect them from Israel's other enemies."

"How did you get involved?" I asked.

"Aliyah hates flying, believe it or not – says human aircraft are too unstable." He shrugged, "Yeah, go figure - an alien who time travels, et al. but who hates airplanes. Anyway, I have some experience and was between assignments in the UK, so she asked to borrow me." It was getting warm with the sun rising overhead. He took off his coat, taking a water from an inner pocket before laying it on the ground. He took a sip then offered some to me. I gulped down a fair portion but then again isn't it always the case with Jack?

"Anyway, I was eager for a 'vacation' and I had always liked it here so I jumped at the opportunity. I met Eli as soon as I arrived – Aliyah, thinking we would get on, arrange for him to meet me at the airport."

"Sounds like you were between lovers too," I said taking another gulp.

"You could say that." He eyed me gruelingly, irritated by my obvious jealous jab. He refocused and continued, "I was lonely and running from it. Aliyah later said she noted such in my letters. Damn, that woman is nearly psychic." He sighed heavily again and went back mentally to that time. "Eli was kind and lonely himself, albeit for different reasons. I know his Torchwood portfolio said his family had rejected him but that lacked the details. His parents, grandparents and other members of the community held a funeral for him, acted as if he actually died. When he tried to call his sister, who he had always been closed with, she started screaming that his ghost was on the phone. Having grown up in such a small, tight-knit society, excommunication means part of your soul is torn from you, forever."

"It began innocently in a dirty sort of way. Although it was the end of disco and the wild parties at places like Studio 54 in New York, for the gay world, particularly in American, the party continued on, even after the first people came down with what was initially called the 'gay man's disease'. When we first met, the party was still running and there were plenty of places where folks still 'road bare-back', high on cocaine, pot, and lots of good champagne. Together we ran away from our mutual pain and thought nothing of it, not even noticing what was also going on between us."

"Christmas of '84, we went to Freddie Mercury's party at Garden Lodge, the house in Kensington he shared with his common law wife, Mary Austin. He had met his lover, Jim Hutton, already but it was that night, with Eli and I, that the relationship, how shall I say, 'started'. Between bouts of fucking and lines of cocaine, those two talked like an old married couple. But when Eli and I got back to Jerusalem and had a huge row, can't remember what it was about now but it was probably something foolish. The bottom line was that Eli was mad that I fucked Freddie without him, something I'd never done before." Jack thought for a moment, but I was on the edge of my seat and looking at him intently. He ignored my expression and continued, "It appeared in the mist of our sexual rampage across continents, Eli had fallen in love with me and later I had to admit I was in love with him too."

"You slept with Freddie Mercury?" I asked incredulously.

"Oh, Mary was okay with it. She and Freddie had long ago stopped any physical relations and she knew she had his heart," Jack answered, ignoring my real question.

"Jack! You slept with Freddie Mercury . . . Freddie Mercury from Queen . . . one of the first famous people who . . ."

He interrupted me, "Who was identified as having contracted AIDS. Yes, it was all over the papers and the paparazzi hounded him mercilessly."

"That's not what I meant," I said.

"I didn't think I could give him anything. I didn't think I could catch it."

"What do you mean?" I replied, "You two were at the center of the orgies of the decade!"

"I always made him wear a condom when we did those things. I assumed it didn't matter about me – nothing else had killed me . . . bullets to the head, knives to the heart, poison. But I made sure he was careful. I didn't think that need apply when we were just with each other." Jack leaned over and caressed Eli's tombstone like he was touching the living man. "It was Aliyah's idea for us to marry. She said it was only natural even though such wouldn't start to be legal let alone popular around this planet for decades to come. She took a lot of heat for doing that – her enemies had another feather in their cap for their "she's not really Jewish" mantra but she was quite proud of and happy for us."

Jack drank some more water from the nondescript plastic bottle like he was taking a drink from a shot glass. I, on the other hand, was slowly coming to realize the depth of guilt Jack was carrying. "I hadn't thought about it until now but Eli was a lot like you," he said thoughtfully. "Always with the witty dry humor, always in his uniform - always impeccably starched and ironed, an intense thinker and proud of it . . . yet, he giggled like a school girl when tickled, cried at the movies, and loved Paul Lynde."

"I don't cry at the movies."

Jack looked at me incredulously. "Anyway . . . he started to get sick unexpectedly a year later. Eli had always had problems with allergies, colds, and so forth so initially that's what we thought it was. But when it took him nearly three weeks once to get better, I became worried. That's when I received a call from Jim who told me about Freddie. I couldn't believe it at first but then I had a conversation with one of Aliyah's doctors. It was likely I contracted it long enough to pass it on to Eli. The virus likely died in my system because everything it tried it replicate, my cells thwarted its efforts, regenerating the virus to its death. The doctors tried to use my cells as a way to save Eli – they were just learning how the virus worked - but by that time too much damage had been done and his system was shutting down." I could see he was remembering Eli's death, every moment playing like a bad song you can't get out of your head.

I heard footsteps in grass. It was Aliyah. "Gentlemen, it's getting hot out here and I'm sure one water bottle between you will not help." She motioned us walk with her. Jack and I stood wobbly. She hooked her arms around both of ours and we walked together. She was going to finish the story, "Jack, of course, blamed himself and was inconsolable for months. He had many shouting matches with himself, saying that he was cursed – that people close to him always die."

"I recall me yelling at you, Rabbi."

"Oftentimes people yell at me when they really are pleading with G-d or themselves." She smiled, "Occupational hazard one gets used to." She returned to the story, "Eli's funeral was lovely. Although Freddie was gone, Mary and Jim came – they felt so bad, and so did Eli's sister. She now runs an AIDS service organization in Chicago, so some blessing came from this tragedy."

We got back to the Center. It's amazing how a combination of an arid climate and painful memories could make one thirsty. I told the others that I was going to the kitchen to fix a pot of coffee. I had a private coffee set up the Center's kitchen and the cooking staff left it alone out of respect for another type of connoisseur. Jack had said he was heading to our rooms but Aliyah must have stopped him. She is a wily one, so I am not sure if she spoke in my earshot on purpose or not but I heard everything:

"He knows now," she said.

"Yes."

"Well, isn't that enough?

"I don't know."

"Jack Harkness, you are not cursed. It's your business, it is the times, it is LIFE for these people." I could just see the exacerbated look on her face, "Listen to me. For as long as you are going to stay here, make a life for yourself here, and fall in love here, you are going to have to accept the fact of the your immortality and your lack of control over their mortality. Eli knew what he was getting into when he joined Torchwood and when he married you. Ianto's the same only better. He keeps your shirts nicely starched."

"And he has the nicest ass," inappropriately joked Jack. "Have you noticed that? His ass is so juicy, let me tell you . . ."

"No, I haven't notice!" Aliyah nearly shouted. "What am I going to do with you, Jack?"

"Ah, I don't know about right now but we could plan . . ."

"Argh!" she replied, "You do have the ring, don't you?"

"Yep. Right here."

"Alright then," she said, "don't ask him now. Wait until you get back to Cardiff. He'll want to share it with someone he knows and Gwen will appreciate the importance and support him should his family be less than enthusiastic. I'll be out there in a couple of months to do the ceremony."

"Yes ma'am!" Jack said, likely while giving one of his mocking British salutes.

I heard Aliyah walk down the hall chuckling and Jack came in the kitchen. He seemed unaware that I had heard the conversation and I decided not to say anything. "Coffee ready?" he asked while pulling some water bottles from a nearby refrigerator.

"Needs a couple more minutes," I answered, trying to hide my joy.

With a sly look on his face, he whispered, "Why don't we wait for it in the room, eh?"

Chapter Nine: This Is the End . . . My Only Friend

Gwen was confused. Obviously, Jack never asked Ianto. Ianto would have told her, just like Aliyah said he would. More importantly, Ianto was never wearing anything that approached an engagement ring. Did gay men exchange engagement rings, she wondered.

There were only a few paragraphs left. It seems they were written a day before his murder by the 456.

Maybe I have been fooling myself. Maybe I misunderstood his conversation with Aliyah before we left. He told me about his daughter, his grandson, and the children . . . what he had to do. Still, he doesn't believe me. I do understand. Living as long as he has, one cannot help but to have skeletons, plenty of them. I don't mind the skeletons. They don't scare me and they don't make me love him any less. But I hate when he hides things from me. I don't know if after this incidence is over if I should throttle or hug him. He needs both but probably would like the former.

I'm glad I told Rhiannon. Even if her husband's an idiot, he has a good heart and seems to accept things. I really want her at the wedding, if there is one. Let's hope though that I don't get pregnant like Gwen beforehand. I think Jack and I should spend some more time alone together before adding kids.

Gwen began to laugh, remembering her wedding day and how Ianto had to search for a proper wedding dress for a woman carrying an alien baby. She also remembered kissing the fake Jack. She thought of how easily that happened and, just for a moment, allowed herself to feel that intense attachment that her friend must have felt for Captain Jack Harkness. She had always envied Ianto but was not jealous. Jack was a piece of work, no matter how delightful he may have been in bed – she knew she had made the right choice in Rhys. But to have known those lips just once . . .

Speaking of Rhys, he must have realized she hadn't made it to the bed. "Allright, luv? Do you know it's nearly 7am?"

"Shit, it's that late? Damn, no wonder I am tired."

The loving husband took away the cold tea cup and put it in the sink. "So, did you find out anything?"

"No and unless Jack comes back and talks, I don't think I ever will. The diary stops a day before Ianto died. All I can tell is that Ianto expected Jack would ask him."

"Well, waiting up for Jack Harkness to return won't do you or the baby any good," said Rhys, who had returned to remove the diary from her hands. "Right. Time for good alien hunters to go to bed. I'll curl up with you and tell you a real bedtime story!"