A NEW DAY...
Exit Wounds Spoilers -- !
Synopsis:
Jack, Ianto and Gwen are moving on, starting over as Cardiff puts itself back together after the events of the last few days... which makes this possibly the worst time for someone from Ianto's past to crop up, looking for a place to crash while she "sorts a few things out." But how can he refuse someone who put him up, fed him, took care of him, when he didn't have two pence to rub together?
The question is: is it really a coincidence that right after Wendy shows up, there's new trouble brewing in Cardiff...?
A/N:
A New Day takes place in the context of the Jack / Ianto fluff I've already written (after ch. 4 of The End is Where we Start From, in Short Stories also on this site).
A New Day is definitely more than just fluff, it has a real storyline and everything (hence the M-Rating) ;-) There will still be Jack / Ianto fluff, especially at the start because they're both coming off of the conversations in my last story -- and where RTD left them -- and also becuase I like Jack / Ianto fluff! :-)
If you really aren't into fluff and don't want to read a few thousand words of drabble that I've previously written about Jack and Ianto, don't sweat it – nothing there was so vitally important that anyone would feel lost here for having skipped it – and I recap it a little in the opening chapter anyway, via Ianto's thoughts about the last few days.
But major thanks to everyone who has read and responded positively! Writers' egos and all that… seriously, HUGE THANK YOUs all the way around!
The usual disclaimers apply, I don't own Torchwood or Jack or Ianto (but if RTD would like to lend Jack and Ianto out, I wouldn't mind playing with them at my house – I promise not to leave marks…. !) I'm not making any money here – in fact, I think my husband would argue that I'm wasting good electricity and hours I could/should be spent sleeping and/or studying or possibly engaging in this mysterious activity known as housework...
I will try for regular updates, but I've got another fic that I'm wrapping up, so please be patient... I tend to write, edit, and post, rather than writing a complete story and then posting it as a whole... and please also, if you like what you've read, don't forget to feed the writer's on your way out... :-) likewise, if I butcher the spelling of something, let me know! I have also been known to take ques from regular readers who would rather see a little more of this or a little less of that...
this story is rated M. I tend to err on the side of caution, both in my writing and how I rate my writing -- I don't do graphic descriptions of violence or sex -- not that neither will happen, but sometimes less really is more and I give you credit for being able to imageine certain things better than I could write them anyway (I think we all have our own interperations of what all one can really do with a stopwatch...) However, we all know that Jack is a sexuaul being and working for Torchwood means dealing with aliens that sometimes want to eat your head for breakfast, so I'd rather start out rating my work on this one as "M" rather than starting out lower and changing later on if the Muses start dancing on my head and something harsher than I'm comfortable giving a "T" rating comes out.
If you consider yourself mature enough to be watching the show, you're mature enough to be reading this. Remember, this DOES take place after Exit Wounds. If you havne't seen it, reading this WILL spoil the ending.
Chapter One:
Moments
Weary to the bone but glad he hadn't left Jack alone last night, Ianto pulled up in front of his building and parked. He looked around – not at anything in particular, just taking it all in, in the twilight gloom… the day after the day after the day that changed everything... forty eight hours... it was hard to believe it had only been forty eight hours... harder still to believe that in another couple of months he'd come up on his two year anniversery with Torchwood 3... some days it felt as if those two years had flown by, others it seemed as if he'd spent a whole lifetime here... maybe two...
A little twinge of guilt still niggled at the back of Ianto's brain when he thought about the way he'd weaseled, lied and stalked his way into Torchwood 3… I could do anything, man the desk – make coffee –
Tea boy... Ianto wiped the fresh moisture from his face… nothing but a tea boy… Owen's words stung for different reasffons now… he never would have expected to miss Owen, not like this… on the way here, Ianto seen the back of a man's head in the crowd and almost pulled over convinced it was Owen -- they hadn't found any remains, it was possible… trick of my mind… Ianto was still telling himself. When somebody died you started seeing them in the crowd… he hadn't pulled over. Accosting a stranger in the street would not be a good way to end anyone's day, especially his. Everyone in Cardiff had been through so much already… the latest news had the death toll up to eleven hundred and ninety three… eleven hundred and ninety five… Owen… Tosh… the newspapers wouldn't report them, wouldn't even know – no one would…no one would ever know the things he knew... it was for the best. Who would want to know what he knew about the world in which they lived? Ignorance is bliss...
But what he'd said to Jack – an echo of the Captain's own words to him – how if he'd been anywhere else, done anything else, he wouldn't have seen what he'd seen or loved the people he'd loved… love... was it love...? What was love anyway? What did it mean to say to someone "I love you" --? How long had Tosh loved Owen and never said anything...? (And how pointless had it been anyway...?)
But you keep me warm at night too, Jack Harkness… he thought fiercely, wiping more tears from his face. As emotional as a woman... his mother to chid... boys weren't supposed to cry... it didn't matter. All that mattered was that last night, curled up with Jack, it had had really felt like – like there really is going to be a tomorrow and a tomorrow after that and one after as well…it had felt likehere really was where they went on from…
It had taken Ianto hours to get Jack to come to bed with him – even so, Jack barely slept. Every hour or so he'd jolt upright, gasping for breath (even though he'd been breathing just fine in his sleep), clutching around wildly for the lamp on the bedside-table, desperate to turn the lights on. Twice he'd sent the lamp crashing to the floor – finally broke under the abuse. Ianto got out of bed and turned on the overhead lights quickly (he had a nasty gash on his foot for his troubles, stepping on broken glass… but like everything else it would heal in time… it was the wounds that didn't leave marks Ianto was the most concerned about now… )
The dark reminded Jack too much of those nineteen hundred and twenty four years… He needed light – sound – warmth – so Ianto held him – talked to him – stayed with him until he slept again – the he bandaged his foot and went to find another lamp for the next time Jack woke up as if from the dead, gasping for air, his heart racing, panicked because it was dark, quiet… Leaving the light on didn't help, but after a while, Ianto did it anyway. The light – the radio – anything to help Jack wake up a little easier the next time… it had been a rough night for both of them… It still hadn't surprised him to find Jack not there when morning finally came.
But at least this time he'd left a note. Ianto smiled – he'd tucked it in his pocket and looked at it several times through out the day, any time he got afraid that Jack might have gone away again for good…
.
Ianto – no, I haven't run off to the edge of the universe again – too many cannibals. I just needed some fresh air – you don't have to be in today – take some time. Get some rest. I know you didn't get any last night.
Thanks for being there.
See you tomorrow – or maybe the next day. Take what you need, I can handle the hub for a day or two.
XO
Jack.
.
XO.
Kiss and hug.
Definitely out of character for Jack… but what had nineteen hundred and twenty four years done to him…? Ianto knew what twenty four hours had done to him – he couldn't imagine it from Jack's prospective – he didn't want to…
He didn't go home, either. He didn't take the any time or get any rest – he wasn't sure he would have known how to, even if he'd wanted to leave the hub. He supposed that he kept hoping that Jack would come back in, see that he was there – and – and then what? Even Ianto didn't know what he'd wished for, but he'd stayed anyway because leaving felt wrong.
He spent some time monitoring rift activity – it was strange sitting at Tosh's station. Even with her personal affects packed away in storage, he still expected her to come in and be cross with him for muddling up her area – she hated having her station touched, even if it was just a quick tidy-up…. but I have to stop thinking of this as her station, he'd told himself a hundred times. Eventually there's going to be someone else sitting here – that felt wrong too, but Ianto kept telling himself that life moved on. It had to. Just look at Jack…
After determining that it was really a quiet morning, that nothing huge and nasty had popped up out of the rift over night, that the city was safe, Ianto went downstairs and fed the 'residents' in the basement. Cleaned up after them. Made sure the security system was working properly. He even did a quick mop up of the hallway, suddenly wishing they could hire a janitor or something, just someone to do the mopping up and dusting… Christ, how would that want ad go…? It amused him to think about it while he worked.
Then he did an inventory in the medical bay, mostly as an excuse to force himself to be there… Tosh...
Gray in the 'freezer'... he couldn't fault Jack for that, though, he'd searched his whole life and then...
And then Ianto found himself wanting to break down again so he re-read Jack's note, and imagined that he could see the smile Jack must have been smiling when he'd written the first few lines. He told himself that Jack would be back soon.
He shook himself off and give himself another job to do.
Paperwork.
Rift activity.
Systems check.
Tidying up Jack's quarters.
He made the bed – picked up the dirty socks. He wasn't quite sure what Jack did about his laundry – it was hard to imagine Jack at the corner Laundromat…
But it was good to be around his things. His scent.
My Captain…
It was late in the day when it occurred to Ianto to wonder if Jack had bothered to call Martha yet… she'd want to know… UNIT should be notified… but Martha, personally, would want to know… Tracking down the number was easy enough – it took a few connections to get to her department – finally he had her on the phone and for a few seconds he didn't know what to say – she sounded pleased to hear from him – so she must not know – of course she'd heard about what had happened in Cardiff and of course UNIT wanted to know what had really happened in Cardiff, but no, Jack hadn't contacted her personally, why… so it was left to him to tell her, to find the words, to try to give an official sounding report –
"Oh, Ianto – I'm so sorry – do you need me to come down for a few days – ?"
"That – that's really Jack's decision – "
"Yeah – of course – he probably wouldn't want to admit that he needed the help," she seemed to laugh, just a little, "But –if you need anything – you or Jack or Gwen – if you need me for any reason – you just call. London's only two hours away – I can be there in a tick."
"Thanks, Martha – I should go – I think Jack's finally back – "
"All right. I'm – I'm really sorry – "
She'd barely known them… but sometimes that's all it took… "Thank you for – everything," for offering to come, no questions asked...he hung up just as Jack came in, carrying a couple of grocery store sacks.
"Ianto – you're still here – "
"You sound surprised," Ianto found himself forcing a bit of a smile, wondering if he'd made the right call when he decided to stay... what if Jack didn't want him here – maybe he wanted to be alone… maybe that's the real reason he'd had gone out – stayed out –
"Didn't you get my note?" Jack's tone was hard to read into – "I told you to take the day – get some rest – "
"I – I had work to do," Ianto forced another weak little smile. "I was just finishing up really – I ah – I spoke to Martha – "
"I was going to call her tonight," Jack's tone was flat. Cool. Distant...
Stupid… but there was no changing what he'd done. "She said that if you needed anything – she'd be here."
Jack just nodded and walked towards the kitchen. Ianto followed; he wasn't ready to go home, especially not if Jack was really angry with him...even if it's that I'm still here... if Jack wanted space, he would say so.
"You cleaned," Jack observed.
"I ah – I just tidied up a bit, no big deal – " he'd scrubbed the sink – cleaned the counter – mopped – he'd stopped himself short of actually polishing the silver (it wasn't silver anyway, it was stainless)… nervous cleaning his mother had called it… "I – erm – I picked up your quarters a little too – I didn't mean to intrude. I'm sorry –"
Jack frowned.
"I'm sorry –" Ianto said again.
"You don't have to apologize - it's just that you didn't have to do it."
"I didn't mind. I cleaned up downstairs a little, too – did some inventory – just – " just to keep myself busy so I'd be here when you got back… was he really that pathetic…?
Jack gave him a long, measured look. Ianto wasn't sure what to make of it, of the way Jack was acting like he expected – something. "You want to stick around for dinner?" Jack asked suddenly, in a deceptively light tone. "Some of Jack Harkness's galaxy famous chili?" he began pulling ingredients out of the bag.
"You cook?"
"I'm full of all sorts of surprises – thought you knew that by now," Jack gave him one of those wicked smiles – but Ianto could see a world of underlying emotion – he couldn't name them all, but he knew that Jack was – pretending – no, maybe not pretending, maybe just – sorting through –
Ianto smiled anyway. They were both sorting through, trying to figure out where to go from here... the end is where we start from… but what are we supposed to do? He wondered silently. He would have asked, but looking at Jack, he wasn't so sure Jack had any answers either…now we carry on… we clean up, make chili, eat dinner...
Ianto stepped a little closer and found Jack's hand – neither of them made any kind of habit of little gestures, but he remembered the way Jack had touched him yesterday…was it really only yesterday…? he reached out, cupped Jack's face with his other hand – and Ianto knew it was exactly the right thing to do. Jack leaned into his touch – leaned forward – his kiss was full of so much emotion – turmoil – need – it was a long, long while before they parted lips again and when they did, Jack just looked at him with that same expectant look he'd been giving Ianto since he came in.
"What?" Ianto finally asked.
"You're not even going to ask me, are you?"
"Ask you what?"
"Where I was all day – "
"If you wanted me to know, you'd tell me," Ianto answered him simply; he leaned in again and gave the other man another soft kiss.
………………………………………
Ianto looked over at Jack in the semi-darkness of the office… not bad for your first time…? Ianto smiled a little despite everything going through his mind… it had been a lot better than just not bad… who would have thought that certain positions were even possible, at least not without fancy equipment – but what Jack could do with a desk and a chair…
Jack slipped his shirt back on – his trousers – Ianto realized that Jack was watching him as intently as he was watching Jack.
Ianto pulled himself up – found his shorts – his pants, "This ah – this isn't going to change our working relationship, Sir," he assured his boss.
"I know – but for the last time, would you drop the 'Sir'?" Jack asked with a wicked smile that made Ianto blush, "Unless of course you're into that sort of thing…"
……………….…………..
Ianto had been determined that nothing was going to affect his ability to work with Jack, least of all their 'dabbling' (especially since he wanted to do it again and he was fairly certain that the best way to get sacked would be to start carrying on like some starry-eyed lover. What went on after the others went home wasn't anybody's business…)
Even after last night – yesterday… nineteen hundred and twenty four years…. everything had changed, but certain things were not going to change even if it was only the three of them left… Ianto resisted the urge to give into the tightness in his gut, the pain that had brought him to tears more than once today. Instead, he leaned in and kissed Jack again, gently…all we really have is each other… and Jack had done what he'd promised, he'd left a note, he hadn't just taken off without a word – besides, if he wanted a wife to nag at him, he'd get married… unless Jack wanted to be asked…?
Ianto mulled that thought over while he unpacked the grocery bags, sorting their contents into piles (with Jack watching but not offering assistance – not that it took much assistance to unpack grocery bags.) Canned goods went in one pile, largest in the back, smaller ones up front so one could see what there was – Ianto ended up dividing the canned goods again as he was fairly certain Jack didn't intend to put sardines into his chili, he must've picked those up for later (he liked sardines on toast – apparently it was something he'd learned to eat during the war; Jack would also say that no one who liked marmite as much as Ianto did had any room to complain about a few sardines… Ianto had to concede that he might have a point.) Dry goods went into another pile (hopefully none of that was headed for the pot) – produce – meat – Jack had procured enough food to feed an army – or at least make dinner for five… although the silence that had settled between them wasn't uncomfortable, Ianto felt the need to say something anyway:
"I'm not very clever in the kitchen myself – you saw that for yourself yesterday."
"Oh, I don't know; I think you could be clever in the kitchen if you wanted to be," Jack leaned in so close Ianto could feel the warmth of his breath on the back of his neck.
It would be entirely too easy to forget all about dinner… but he doubted Jack had eaten anything today and he hadn't done more than pick. "So – what did you do all day?" Ianto asked very carefully, in as neutral a tone as he could muster (just in case he was wrong about Jack wanting him to ask.) "Besides buy out the corner market, that is," Ianto added with a bit of a smile. He'd come to the end of the last sack and there was definitely enough food to feed an army.
Jack returned his smile, although his tone wasn't cheerful: "I walked."
"Anywhere in particular?"
"Not really." Jack rolled up his sleeves – asked Ianto to get down a cutting board while he washed his hands – he looked perfectly at ease in the kitchen. Relaxed… "I'll need a pot too – no – the big one – "
"Bigger isn't always better you know," Ianto couldn't resist the urge to tease him.
"That isn't what you said before," Jack teased right back; Ianto could see some of the weight lifting from him again. Ianto continued to smile and got down the pot Jack had asked for; he leaned back against the counter where Jack had been leaning just a few moments ago and watched Jack go to work, slicing garlic and then onions. The way his hands moved – quick – clean – efficient – it was a bit before Jack spoke again, his tone a little distant. "I walked all over Cardiff today – I saw repair crews out – police – fire – it's still bad out there."
Ianto nodded. "I caught the news," he'd been monitoring all of the city's emergency frequencies – watching the news – even CNN was carrying the story – at least part of the story. No one but the two of them – Gwen – Rhys – nobody else knew what had really happened – it didn't matter… they knew. They would remember. Ianto touched Jack's arm – he was rewarded by a flicker of a smile – he returned it. Just a silly little gesture, the kind that they'd hardly ever indulged in before… suddenly it felt so natural, just to be standing here, next to Jack, watching him cook… "Should I call Gwen and Rhys – see if they want to come over – ? We've certainly got enough food there – " and for half a second it almost seemed – normal. One couple asking another over for dinner on a whim – it was almost a little insane really – except that right here in the kitchen, with the smell of browning beef and sausages, onions and garlic – with Jack smiling – it was almost possible to forget that they weren't in some cozy little flat somewhere, that they were underground and they had a pterodactyl – weevils… Tosh in the morgue… Owen… they couldn't even give him a drawer…
But Jack didn't bring any of that up, "That's not a half bad idea – " he said in a light tone that made Ianto think he might be having similar thoughts – a moment of normality in the insanity of their lives.
"I ah – I was thinking – I could – stick around – just for a couple of days," Ianto said quickly (maybe a little too quickly) before he lost his nerve.
"I'm really old enough that I don't need a babysitter, Ianto."
"I know that."
Jack gave him another one of those long, measured look – then just when Ianto was sure he was going to say 'no' – "This needs about an hour to simmer anyway – why don't I give Gwen a call while you head home and pick up a few things – ? Can't have you walking around in the same shirt – there's no telling what – " he stopped himself there – Ianto knew what he was going to say though, the others… but there were no others, there was just the three of them now… "No telling what Gwen'll think," Jack finished in a more subdued tone.
"I won't be long. You need me to pick up anything on my way back in? Another bottle of wine, maybe? Or maybe some beer – beer and chili – classic combination – " he forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood back to what it had been a moment ago.
"Sounds good," Jack gave him a quiet sort of smile – Ianto leaned in – it was just a soft sort of kiss – ordinary – it fit the moment...
……………………………………………..
And maybe if Ianto hadn't been so distracted by everything that had happened today – yesterday – the day before – if he'd been paying more attention to the here and now, he would have realized sooner that something was amiss before he stepped into his flat…