Title: The Merits of the Colour Blue
Author: creepycrawly
Rating: Uh…PG?
Pairing: Jack/Ianto. Because it's canon, woohoo!
Warnings: Slash. But if you're in this fandom, manlove clearly ain't a problem. Oh, and SPOILERS FOR S2 Epi 1, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. Which you should all go YouTube, ASAP. Mmm.
Summary: And Jack was silent, just holding Ianto, and meditating on the merits of the colour blue.
It was late, and dark in the Hub when Ianto finally asked the question that Jack knew he'd been wanting to ask ever since they saw John off.
"He knew where Grey was, Jack," Ianto murmured. "Why didn't you go after her?"
Well.
Not quite the question Jack had been expecting, then.
Jack smiled roughly at him nonetheless. "Because," he whispered. "Grey's not mine anymore, Ianto. She hasn't been for years. Long, long years."
"She'll always be yours, Jack," Ianto answered quietly. He set aside the rag he had been cleaning with, turning to face his boss head-on. His eyes were dark and serious, red-rimmed and bruised with exhaustion. His face was hollowed with the same lack of sleep, pale and sickly.
"And how do you know, Ianto?" Jack demanded. "How do you even know about Grey, anyway?"
"Because I trained her," Ianto replied softly. "After they took her from you, they brought her to Babylon Weave."
"Of course," Jack murmured, sliding from the desk he was perched on, approaching Ianto. Cupping his face in one hand, he pulled him close with the other arm. "Babylon Weave. Queen's Army, too, I'm guessing. You're the only ones they approved Chameleon Patches for."
Ianto started as Jack undid his belt quickly, yanking his pants down just far enough to reveal clean, milky-pale hips. Jack ignored the fact that the sign he was looking for wasn't there, rather, he began ghosting his fingertips across the skin. When he hit a patch that felt different from the rest, he closed his eyes and traced it.
When he opened them, it stood there, plain as day. A tattoo. On Ianto Jones. Black as sin on skin as white as could be. A small cross, with a snake wrapped around it, crown tossed over the top at an angle, tiny letters of non-inked skin shaping out words amidst the dark background of the cross.
"Chameleon Patches only work if you don't know what it should look like," Jack said triumphantly. "Unfortunately for you, I happen to know one of the Queen's Medics. She's the one who let me in on your little secret."
Ianto tipped his head in recognition. He knew there had to be a reason Jack knew about the telepathy, but he'd never thought one of the Queen's Medics would have given it up. Ah, well. Life is life, and he knows that whoever it was probably thought that they were helping him.
"But she didn't mention Grey?" Ianto asked.
Jack shook his head. "Would she have known?"
It was Ianto's turn to shake his head. "No. Probably not. I wouldn't have known except that I was part of the Weave, and they needed someone who could match and temper her. She had your face in her mind," he added. "She knows whose she is."
"Whose she was, Ianto," Jack sighed, suddenly feeling old and tired. "She's not mine anymore."
Ianto laughed quietly. "Do you know," he said conversationally, "my mum said that when I was twelve? Well, she said "that boy", but the idea was the same." Leaning forward, he nuzzled Jack's neck, exuding soft warmth and comfort and loving feelings all over the place. "We're always our parents' children, Jack," he whispered. "Always."
"How?" Jack whispered back, holding him tightly.
Ianto smiled against his throat. "Genetic memory, maybe. Telepathic imprinting, maybe. Nobody knows for sure, not even us. But we always know who our parents are…both of our parents…"
Jack inhaled sharply, turning questioning eyes down at the man in his arms.
Ianto nodded slowly, never breaking his gaze. "I know, Jack. I've known…always. Since I met her. Since I met you."
"You've been waiting…?"
"All my life," Ianto finished softly. "Can you imagine what it was like, Jack? I was sixteen, had only been in the 21st Century for two years, and here's this baby, who remembers me the way I remember my dad, the way I remember my mum, and she's carrying some man's face around with her." He smiled up at Jack, tears standing in his eyes. "They never did figure out why she liked me so much."
Jack just stared at him. "Did…did you know…when…I was…"
Ianto shook his head ever so slightly. "I had my suspicions," he said. "But I wasn't quite sure. After all, Grey came to me when I was sixteen. And I'm forty now. And you're how old? It didn't make sense.
"And then I began to work it out. When you came back, really. You were a Time Agent, weren't you? 51st Century. Time-Steppers will be organized into a separate branch of Babylon Weave/Torchwood/Queen's Units in the 25th Century, after all. And in the 30th, the Time Agency becomes its own force. And it made sense. She could get my telepathy without help from you, but Time-Stepping…she doesn't age, Jack. My telepathy keeps me from aging—but only because I'm a Time-Stepper."
"Caught me," Jack said calmly. "Takes two to tango…and a full compliment of genes for Time-Stepping to breed true, 'specially when there's telepathy involved. And, as far as you're aware, I'm the only Time-Stepper you've ever had sexual contact with."
Ianto scowled. "And, of course, there was the fact that the day I interviewed for this job, I recognized your face. How could I not? I'd seen it in her dreams for years."
"You knew," Jack whispered. "You knew from the moment you saw me."
"Knew that somehow, somewhen, I'd tumble into your bed and probably never look back," Ianto agreed, nodding. "Put it off as long as I thought I could. Gave in when I couldn't put it off any longer. Haven't looked back since."
"God, Ianto!" Jack gasped.
"Jack," Ianto murmured, smiling softly. "She's out there, Jack."
"Lisa?" Jack asked, knowing that it didn't follow Ianto's words, knowing and not caring. He had to know, had to.
Ianto smiled bitterly. "She's out there, Jack," he whispered, ignoring his words. "Grey's out there. And she's still your little girl. Yours and mine."
"Yours and mine," Jack whispered, marveling at the way the words felt in his mouth. "Yours and mine. Ours. Our little girl. Our Grey."
"Our Grey," Ianto agreed, snuggling against his shoulder.
"Tell me about her," Jack demanded suddenly, leaning into the warm touch even as he pulled Ianto closer. "Tell me about our little girl."
Ianto closed his eyes and inhaled the rich scent of Jack from the coat, letting his memory drift back and open the file labeled 'Grey', the file he'd kept hidden from Jack all those years, even when he'd trained Jack to rattle through his brain. After all, whether or not he loved Jack, time-paradoxes were an ass to deal with, and he'd lived through enough of them not to want to create one himself.
"Well," he began, "she's beautiful. Looks just like you, you knew. When she grows up, she'll be a heartbreaker. You'll have to fight the boys off with a stick."
"How old is she?"
"She's five right now," Ianto answered. "She'll stay five for a while. I've got her in stasis—mostly to protect her mind. Besides, unless it's prompted to, her body won't age. I blame that entirely on you." He scowled slightly into Jack's coat. "Anyway, she's got long, dark hair. It's curly. She's got your smile, too, and she's always smiling."
Against his hair, Jack smiled slightly.
Ianto continued. "She's very talented. I had to Lock her Time-Stepping when she figured out how it worked. Chasing after a fascinated five-year-old in the midst of World War One is an experience not to be forgotten. Other than that, she's got your empathy through and through, on top of my telepathy. She likes cows and sheep, can knit faster than you can blink, and her favourite colour is blue."
"Blue?" Jack asked.
Ianto nodded. "Blue."
And Jack was silent, just holding Ianto, and meditating on the merits of the colour blue.
