AN

So, this is my first song-fic. The song for this is Strange and Beautiful by Aqualung. I love this song, it just sort of clicked with me. I wanted to write this because I can relate to Ianto in this situation. If you have someone like this in your life, you'll hopefully like this song as much as I do.

Anyway, I suggest you read this story through, then listen to the song, and then play the song while reading through the story.

It's set around season one. Ianto might seem a bit out of character but who really knows what's going on under those suits? There are a lot of short sentences etc because although it's written form an objective view point, I'm trying to incorporate what Ianto would be thinking so it'll sound more like thoughts than a well laid out story.

Anyway, thank you for choosing to read this, I am really sorry if this is bad.

Strange and Beautiful

Ianto cast a furtive glance towards his boss's office. He felt his stomach tug. And then lurch when he saw Jack get up and walk to the door. Hurrying, Ianto threw together the coffee and set off in the direction of Jack's office. He was careful to make it appear as he had no idea that his boss was making his way down the stairs and tried to look mildly surprised and nonchalant when they came to a close stop. "Coffee, sir."

"Ianto, you are a god. How did you know I wanted coffee?"

"You always do, sir." Came the quiet reply.

"You make me sound like a coffee whore, Ianto. And stop calling me sir." He simply nodded, but his heart jolted every time Jack told him that. He didn't know why, it just did. "Anyway, I'm headed down to the archives. Need to check out that thing we dredged from the water. Honestly, the crap we find in there."

"You never know, sir. Sometimes the outside hides what's important on the inside."

There was a pause. Jack studied his employee's face carefully. He says employee but really he is more than that him. He matters. Jack could feel the weight behind what Ianto said, that there was a meaning to his words. But he didn't know what. He often felt like that when Ianto spoke. Mentally shaking his head, he broke the silence. "Anyway! So that's where I'm going... if you need me..."

"Actually sir, I was heading down there myself. I'm still working my way through the G to H section of the archives." Ianto congratulated himself on the quick lie. Well it wasn't a lie. But it wasn't urgent, he had planned to do other work that afternoon but he wouldn't miss out on the chance to be near Jack. Even for a while.

Ianto finished work even later than usual that night. He collapsed on his bed, drained of energy and full of emotion. He cried. Tears slowly made their way down his flushed cheeks. He couldn't keep doing this. Wanting Jack, idolising Jack, spending every waking moment thinking of Jack. It hurt too much, knowing he shouldn't want him. He wasn't gay. And even if he was, there was no way he could even have Jack. He was his boss, the leader of the team. A team that he wasn't even a part of. Not really. He was just their secretary, their tea boy, their bitch.

But he continued with his job, even though every time he sees Jack it rips another hole in his heart. Sure, having this petty crush (because he had convinced himself that's what it was, it's the only way he coped with it sometimes) sometimes filled him with joy and ecstasy in the rare moments when he got to talk to Jack alone or brush his arm accidentally when handing him a file. But the feeling soon leaves and is replaced with resentment.

Resentment of himself. He's not good enough. He never will be. He's the guy that is freakishly organised. He's the guy that always seems cool, calm and collected on the outside, always ready with a witty comeback. Inside though, inside he's a mess. Hated himself, had abusive parents, was bullied in school, virtually no friends.

Jack had none of these problems. No confidence issues whatsoever, clearly. His eyes, god, his perfect eyes, so deep. And his rich brown hair that Ianto could just slip his hands into at any moment, pulling him in closer...and closer...and closer. But Ianto didn't like these thoughts. They made him question who he was. He wasn't gay. He's straight. He's always been straight. And he isn't bi. Not like Jack. Or whatever Jack is. He's probably had a relationship with more than half of all the alien species this side of the galaxy. But he'd be better off with me. We'd be better together. Not that he sees me in that way. How could Captain Jack Harkness see anything in Ianto Jones apart from a quick shag and a good cup of coffee?

He had had such a nice time with Jack in the archives that day. Just the two of them, no interruptions. Talking, flirting until they both realised it was about 10 at night. So Jack sent him home, and Ianto went upstairs to get his coat and close up the tourist centre. And then it popped up on the screen: "system alert - CCTV footage from 4 days ago deleted at 3.56pm today". Of course he opened it, he had put the alert there on purpose. Ever since Suzie he sort of felt responsible for her stealing the glove, he was in charge of archives of course. He should have notice her taking it, should have noticed the deleted CCTV entries.

So he closed the alert and quickly retrieved the footage. His chest tightened. He didn't want to believe what he saw. But when he thought about it, what chance did he ever have? Of course Jack chose Gwen. Of course he was kissing her passionately instead of him. He shut the window quickly; he felt sick.

Why was the thing he wanted most in the world always out of his reach?

Ianto curled up into a ball in his bed. Why couldn't he just retcon Jack? And when he woke up, he could tell him that he- he was in accident or something? That they were going out, that they were deeply in love. And then Jack would give him a chance.

He sniffed loudly and burrowed his head deep in the covers.

The confusion, the heartbreak, the constant clinging to the glimmer of hope that sometime in the distant future there was a tiny chance that he might get Jack. When would it end?