Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or Doctor Who

The Face of Boe's thoughts were incoherent nowadays. A whirling mass of memories and centuries upon centuries worth of knowledge. It had never been like this before, and the Face knew he was close to death. Not long now.

With the remaining life force he had left, the Face accomplished what he had been doing for many years; he saved earth.

The darkness was closing in on him, blurring the edges of his vision and the Face knew he wouldn't be coming back this time. Death never felt lighter before. His old friend; the wandering traveller, so much more like himself than either ever acknowledged before, knelt before him alongside the nightingale. The Face suddenly remembered that the wandering traveller wasn't the last of his kind- not quite. He had to be ready. So, the Face uttered,

"You are not alone"-

-and that was that. The Face of Boeshane was dead. Everlasting story finally drawn to a close.

The End.

But that's not right. Yes, there's more to the saga of Jack Harkness...

The initial reaction to having his body back, was excitement and joy he hadn't felt since- but then the second reaction was panic. Why was he still in the dark? Shouldn't he have moved on from that?

"Hey! Anybody out there?" Jack called. His echo was the only thing that came back. Jack's shoulders slumped. "Why the hell not," he murmured. "Save the world countless times in your extremely long life, die and this what you get."

"Jack, is that you?"

The reminiscence of a heart suddenly started to thud inside Jack's chest. In the back of his mind came an image...of...of a man; a young man who wore nice suits and made smashing coffee. But...no, Jack thought, there was more to the memory. Definitely more. They worked side by side in...Torchwood. And; they were...close friends? Were they related? Nah, that didn't feel right to Jack. Nevertheless, whoever this person had been in Jack's life, he remembered him.

"Yes? I can't see anything," Jack replied.

"I-It's alright." The Welsh vowels carried in a smooth cadence across the invisible space.

"Hold on, I'll make my way to you." Jack heard the hope in the young man's voice and figured, he must've been here alone too.

"What is this place?" the formerly immortal man asked.

"No official name really," the Welshman explained, "but I suppose it's like this: the dark is a place for the dead to wait. They wait for someone and when that person dies; they'll cross over. I don't know much about where to, she didn't really indulge me of it."

Jack was about to ask who this 'she' was, but became aware that the Welshman wasn't very far away from him now. In fact, in the impossible dark; Jack could begin making out his features. There was the smart suite, brown hair, average build, and eyes that were a blue deeper than the ocean.

More memories of this man began to fill the gaps. Fighting strange creatures with rough skin, grasping onto strong arms each time the air flooded painfully back into his chest, late nights and early mornings...

"Amy was right," he said, voice cracking on the edges. "It's been a long time, Jack."

...things like stopwatches, promises that could never be made, being so scared because he'd sworn to himself he wouldn't love someone that much anymore...love...

"Jack... Say something?" the words were careful.

...wasting time with misunderstanding; frustration- constant frustration on both sides; not knowing what was there, what could have been, until it was ripped away too early- too soon, never enough...

"Oh god," the Welshman sighed. He took a moment to regain composure. "But its alright. I knew this could happen. I'm...I'm sorry." He turned around, but before he could leave, Jack reached forward and grabbed his arm.

"No. Don't go," Jack said. "Who are you?"

"Me"- and he sounded broken and tired- "I'm no one important, just a blip in time on the radar of a lone traveller. You best be on your way."

Jack hadn't released his grip on the young man's arm yet. "Don't say that," he said.

"What?"

"You'll never be a blip in time, Ianto Jones, not for me."

Ianto stared at Jack and after a while, his lover's words registered. The former Torchwood operative pulled him into a desperate embrace. "Bloody bastard," Ianto tutted, his breath tickling Jack's neck. "How long were you going to play me like that?"

Jack held Ianto tightly against him. "It wasn't on purpose," he admitted, "I couldn't remember it all; just fragments. They were coming back slowly." Jack pulled back only enough to see Ianto's face. "I didn't forget you. Ianto Jones, under my skin since the day I first met him and he stayed there until I died."

"Thank you," Ianto whispered, even though they were the only two there. And he leaned forward, lips brushing against Jack's.

Jack deepened the kiss by moving his hands to the back of Ianto's neck. "How long has is been for you?" He murmured.

"I don't know. It feels like a short few hours, but I can feel the weight of every year," Ianto said, and Jack kissed him again. The thing about being dead, was that air wasn't an essential, so if they really wanted to, they could remain lip-locked for the rest of eternity. But there was something that needed to be said.

"I love you," Jack said, his thumb stroking fondly over Ianto's right cheekbone.

Ianto smiled. "I know, Jack. Daft sod, you couldn't have said that 4,999,998,044 years ago?"

"Sorry."

Ianto shook his head. "I love you, too."

"I know." They laughed. After a few seconds ticked past, Jack mused, "what do we do now?"

"You come with me."

The two men turned to the voice. "Amy," Ianto greeted.

"Good to see you again, Ianto," Amy reconciled. "You must be Captain Harkness then. Glad to finally meet you, name's Amy Pond."

Jack nodded, and reluctantly released Ianto. "Amy Pond, Amy Pond...ah. I think I've heard stories about you and..." Jack raked his brain. "Rory Williams."

"Well, my daughter is a bloody brilliant storyteller I'm sure she got the word round well," Amy beamed.

"The Everlife, then," Ianto said.

"Yes," Amy exclaimed. "Oh, this is my favorite part." She wiggled her way in between Jack and Ianto, grabbing both of their hands in hers. "Okay, this might sting a little."

Blinding light tore through the black atmosphere and Jack tensed as something tugged at him. It was as if the agony of every resurrection was in the energy of the powerful sensation.

And then it stopped. Abruptly and as quickly as it started. Jack was unconsciously squeezing Amy's hand in a knuckle-whitening grip. Only, it wasn't Amy's hand. The American opened his eyes and glanced around. They were in Cardiff?

"Jack! Ianto!" Toshiko Sato squealed, running over with Gwen Cooper on her heels. Both girls threw their arms around the pair.

"We've missed you!" Gwen cried.

Jack and Ianto let go of each other's hand so they could hug the girl's properly.

"Oi! Back off, that's my girlfriend you two are crushing there!" while in unison, another voice quipped the same about his wife.

Gwen giggled and glanced over her shoulder. "Oh, let them; they haven't seen either of us in years- it doesn't really matter now does it, c'mon!" She scooted to the side. Owen Harper rolled his eyes and Rhys Williams snorted in amusement; but both welcomingly let himself be pulled into the group hug.

When they all parted, Tosh nodded towards the Roald Dahl Plass. "You two ready to go home?"

Jack exchanged a look with Ianto. "Home," Ianto repeated.

"I like the sound of that," Jack agreed, pressing a quick kiss to Ianto's forehead before Team Torchwood walked off to the Hub that started it all.

Sorry for any spelling errors.