NEW BOY TEA BOY : PART 5

Ianto awoke that morning feeling extremely irritated. He couldn't even decide why, he just was. Perhaps it was yet another sleepless night, well more accurately an interrupted nights sleep and another tormenting, tantalisingly out of reach dream. It had been one of those ones you always felt were really meant to tell you something truly significant, but the moment your eyes snap open the revelation disappears like smoke on the breeze. So yes Ianto awoke that morning peeved. The hot shower did nothing to improve his mood and his temprement darkened further when he managed to pull a button off his waistcoat. Unable to bare the imperfection in his attire he had changed into a completely different suit. It was new too, one he had had made only a few weeks ago. It was one of the few things he spent significant amounts of money on. His clothing always had to be perfect, nothing less would do. It was irritating being such a neat freak, but his suit was his armour, he could not get through his day without it in perfect order. It was a shame the rest of his life wasn't so ordered really.

He was still pondering over the three days that he had been missing. He was still investigating it too. Jack had helped him as much as he could and neither of them could add to the information gathered by Toshiko and Gwen. That was frustrating beyond belief, it irked him that he had been assaulted in that way. He was counting his blessings that he hadn't been raped as well, that was something he knew he could never live down. Jack had been sympathetic, he knew what missing time was all about. Ianto hadn't questioned how or why, that was none of his business and Jack was no longer his business. Jack however had been determined to make Ianto his. Jack often asked him how he was, tried to get him to talk about how he was feeling now. Ianto side stepped every attempt, avoided every touch and smile, not because he didn't like Jack but because he felt so utterly sorry for his betrayal of the older man he was too ashamed of himself to allow his feelings for his boss to unfold. Then there was Tosh, beautiful Tosh, his ideal girl. The kind of girl his family would like to see him married to. He loved her deeply, but, he realised not 'in that way'. He and Tosh still shared many evenings together, but it was always plutonic and Ianto found himself not minding one bit, a nice cuddle in front of the TV was just as comforting as a good hard shag. That's what they both needed, company, comfort and hot chocolate. Uncomplicated trust in one another.

Ianto checked himself in the full length bathroom mirror. Everything was in order.

Ok, Suzie coming back from the dead and lockdowns aside, bloody fucking Gwen Cooper does it again how many more rules would that woman break? Ianto had hated that glove and was glad to see it destroyed. He finalised the paperwork over Suzies corpse (lets hope she stays that way this time!) and closed the morgue draw. Ianto double checked his stopwatch.

What on Earth had possessed him? Probably just the look of absolute exhaustion on Jack's face, that all too familiar mantle of loss. Ianto just couldn't stand to see it. Turning off the lights behind him Ianto made his way up to Jack's office, noting that the others had gone home, and he really should be heading that way too. He didn't like the thought of leaving Jack alone with his demons and his gun, for all his own pain Ianto was well aware that Jack had seen a hell of a lot more of it than he had. He wished he didn't care. However he did. His father had always taught him to care first even if your worst enemy were dying at your feet, you offer a hand of mercy; it wasn't out of religious conviction. Ifan Manon Jones had simply been a good man, he had tried to teach Ianto be a good son. Ianto had failed in that a lot recently. He found himself thinking back to a conversation he'd had with Tosh right after the thing with Mary and the spooky necklace. She had heard his pain and come over to him and hugged him and he didn't know why until she'd told him about the rats in his stomach. The comfort from that single embrace had washed over him like a tonic and revived him so much that day. Maybe that's what Jack needed right now. Ianto suspected not, Jack was more of a hard core porn sort of guy when it came to comfort. Still nothing wrong with that, especially with Jack.

No sooner was he through the office door than Jack was pushing him against the wall and pulling his jacket off. Ianto winced at the treatment of his clothes and Jack suddenly froze and dropped his hands. Ianto was shaking his head and smiling at him, trying to...well he wasn't sure what.

"Sorry Ianto..I just thought..."

It was the strangest thing, seeing Jack so vulnerable, apologising like that. It upset him too.

"It's ok, but that jacket cost me £300!"

Jack glanced at the crumpled item that lay on the floor. He quickly gathered it up and lay it across the desk.

"Better?"

"Much."

Jack stood there, hesitant. He looked lonely and small, Ianto didn't think that was possible, for a man whose personality was so much bigger than any room in which he found himself. Ianto stepped forward and held out his hand.

"I believe you were about to show me something, sir?"

Jack's eyes lit up as he took Ianto's offered hand and engulfed it in his. "You sure?"

Ianto's lips on his was all the answer he needed.

He lay quietly with Jack sleeping deeply at his side. Ianto had never seen Jack sleep before, not properly like this, his face relaxed and peaceful, soft breaths fluttering over Ianto's chest. Ianto was damned uncomfortable with the weight on him, his bones still healing from Brecon, his body still healing from whatever had been done to him by his abductors. However he didn't move, Jack had needed the rest as much as he had needed the sex. Ianto wasn't about to complain, Jack was many things but never disappointing in bed, he hadn't realised he had even missed it until now. Ianto let out a gentle sigh and allowed his eyelids to shutter down on the edge of a doze, relishing the peace and quiet, the steady movement of Jack's slumbered breathing and the faint glow of the light shining through the manhole to Jack's office. It was a moment of pure content and Ianto realised it had been a very long time since he had felt such a thing.

Ianto was half expecting the following morning to wake up feeling awkward and uncomfortable under Jack's gaze. When he opened his eyes Jack was still there, watching him with a slightly amused look on his face.

"You are beautiful when you're asleep." Jack commented softly.

Ianto quirked an eyebrow. "But not when I'm awake?"

Jack replied with a kiss that Ianto dissolved into without even thinking about it. It was Owen's yelling from up the ladder in the office that broke them apart some time later.

It was Ianto who took the call from Harold Saxon. The moment Jack realised who was on the phone he shook his head at Ianto and mouthed 'not here'. Ianto sighed, he hated Saxon as much as Jack did, the man was a loose cannon and far too interested in the doings of Torchwood for anyone's liking. Ianto sat at Jack's desk with an eternally patient expression on his face as he exchanged pleasantries with the man, whom Ianto thought probably tortured children and small animals in his spare time. Over an hour later and the call was ended leaving Ianto vaguely concerned about something he couldn't quite put his finger on....The voice was familiar, but he could not place it for the life of him. The archangel network was going on line currently. Saxon had a big stake in it and had demanded the Torchwood satellites be integrated into the same system. Torchwood 3, namingly Jack had told him to take a running jump....though Ianto had been the one to actually tell the man in more polite but no less firm terms. Saxon had not been happy and Ianto had actually found himself unsettled by the venom in the man's tone, even over a phone line. He opened up a file on Saxon that same day, though he didn't tell anyone else about it, Gwen, Owen and Tosh all liked the man and reckoned he would be the next PM. Ianto sincerely hoped not, but the British public never were very discerning.

Thankfully Jack was professionally distant throughout the day, not including his usual flirting, which was always a welcome distraction, well sometimes anyway, mostly because it annoyed Owen. Ianto liked annoying Owen, the man was just so easy to.... annoy.

Ianto made the decision to unpack the rest of his belongings. It was finally time to put Lisa behind him. He wasn't even sure why. Maybe it was because of Jack, maybe he just finally felt ready to let go. It was a year now since Canary Wharf and although his dreams were often plagued by vibrant flashbacks of the events of that day, they no longer wrenched him from slumber screaming. He wondered at which point he had become so immune to the horror and decided he probably didn't really want an answer to that. Lisa's clothes were sent to a charity shop, her jewellery he kept, he would give it to her sister when he next visited London. He sorted through the many photos of the two of them and secured them in a plastic box he had bought for the purpose. The spare room to his flat now became a little workroom. He set up his father's old sewing machine and cutting table and got rid of the spare bed. He had loved making things with his Tad and he decided he would start doing it again, he had two suits that needed repair as it was.

It was a good day off from work, nothing more to think about other than where to put things. Then the phone rang. It was his mother. Ianto almost put the receiver straight back down, they hadn't exchanged a civil word since the death of his father.

"Mam." His tone was steadfastly neutral.

"Ianto, I was calling to check that you were ok. Your boss visited a few weeks ago because you were missing and he was worried. He'd called to say you were alright and that he'd ask you to phone, but I hadn't heard from you...."

Ianto sucked in a steadying breath. "I'm fine mam. Is that all you wanted?" He had no desire to continue the conversation.

She was hesitant at the other end. "I was... I was wondering what your plans were for Christmas. I thought you and Lisa could join us for dinner."

Ianto's gut clenched, he'd forgotten, she didn't even know Lisa was dead, hadn't even met Lisa before, wasn't aware of Ianto's involvement with Canary Wharf.

"Lisa's dead mam, she died ages ago and I'll be working over Christmas."

The silence was unpleasant. "Oh. I'm so sorry." She sounded genuine enough, but Ianto didn't much care.

"You never even knew her, how can you be sorry?"

He hung up feeling his stomach twist with guilt. His day was ruined. Ianto stood there looking at the phone on his dining table half wondering if should call her back to apologise. He decided not to, there was too much between them, that was one bridge he wasn't prepared to mend, he doubted it ever would be. He'd got on just fine without his family through the worst years of his life, that wasn't likely to change. He had nothing in common with them anyway. He was bloody annoyed that Jack had contacted them in the first place. Still, Jack had meant well. It was a measure of how worried the older man had been during his absence. The revelation hit him in that instant.

The voice, he remembered, dredged from the drug induced haze of his captivity. Harold Saxon. Ianto felt sick at the realisation. Fear gripped at his chest like a vice and he grabbed his mobile speed dialling Jack's number.