Disclaimer, I do not own the rights to any of these characters.

Jack and Jack

JPOV

How many years have I seen?

Perhaps musing like that is better measured in decades, or even centuries? Perhaps millennia?

No, that isn't fair, I haven't actually lived all those years; I've only been a guest in many of them. That comes from travelling with the Doctor; you go a great many places, in a great many times.

And then there's Torchwood, and the people I worked for, before they gave it such a nice, tidy name. Somehow I have been co-opted, or better, corrupted by this planet that has adopted me. Earth is as good a place as most civilizations can claim. Some peace, sprinkled with a serious dose of conflict, and the occasional coulis of alien intervention thrown on the plate. It's a good thing I don't scare easily. (It also helps that I really can't die, not permanently at least. –Not to say that the various attempts don't hurt, because they do, they hurt like hell on so many levels.-)

Every time I land in presents its own challenges. I try very hard to stay above them, and above the people I find myself thrown in with, but it never works. Perhaps I don't try hard enough? At the heart of it all, no matter where I am, I want the companionship, and so I give in. Things really would be so much easier if I didn't.

XXXXX

Owen Harper smacked the newspaper down, on his desk, with a crack of the tightly folded sheets. He hadn't opened it; there really had been no need. The point he wanted to make was emblazoned, on the front page, in bold black letters, for everyone in the room to read.

"Cardiff Killer Strikes Again"

"Your point, Owen?" Jack Harkness asked casually, over the railing of the catwalk he was haunting, lording over the members of his team, all of them at work at their stations in the Hub, except for Owen, who was staring daggers at him, his hands on his hips.

"Same as last night, Jack." Ianto commented, as he breezed by with his tray of mugs, a haze of steam rising from each one as he distributed them gracefully in front of their owners. Jack's was last to be delivered, up the metal steps and handed to him, Ianto grasping it by the rim so Jack could take it by the handle where it wasn't so hot.

"Can you not leave this in the hands of the local constabulatory, Owen? We agreed after reviewing the first two murders that this was a human matter."

"You agreed Jack, and expected the rest of us to follow along," Owen gestured out to the others, who were doing their best to keep their eyes averted from another confrontation, "Just like you always do." Owen was in a particularly foul mood that day.

Wrinkling his nose, and making an exaggerated pouty face, which he knew would annoy Owen to no end, Jack turned his back on the assembled group, resting against the railing, breathing in the scent of the coffee Ianto had handed him. He knew he wouldn't win the argument with Owen. In truth, he was beginning to wonder himself, about the type of monster, (and he used that term seriously), that would find pleasure in cutting people up like a butcher might. He sighed, feeling Ianto's gaze on him. That boy knew more about his moods than Jack was willing to overtly acknowledge, and he reckoned Ianto knew what his next lines would be, even before he did. He spoke without turning around.

"Take Tosh and go and have a proper look at this new scene, Owen. See what you think."

"Finally." Owen muttered, slipping in his ear bud, making no attempt to disguise his disagreeable nature. Toshiko followed him without a word, adjusting her own device to fit properly, as she pulled her dark hair over it. Ianto watched them depart, not saying another word until they were well clear of the Hub. Only then did he turn and lean on the same rail as Jack.

"Do you think there might be something to this one, Jack?"

"Starting to sound a bit too much like that other case, Ianto. Now there's a third? Time to bring some of our talents to the fore I think." Jack mumbled cryptically, taking a thoughtful sip of the coffee and grimacing, wrinkling his forehead. He'd been trying to avoid letting his thoughts wander around this one, mostly because he wasn't prepared for the implications of them.

Ianto knew when Jack was in a pensive mood, (amongst other moods, Jack didn't make much of a secret of those). And he knew when he could question, and when it was better if he didn't. Today was one of the "better if he didn't" days, and so he gave Jack a curt nod, with half a smile curling up the right side of his lips, and went down to check on Gwen.

XXXXX

It wasn't that Owen didn't like Jack, or at least he knew deep down inside it wasn't that. Only, it was just some times, he just wanted to shake the man to his senses. Bad enough he played most everything close to the vest (but didn't hide that he was doing it), but his quiet reluctance to support Owen was beginning to make the other man very frustrated indeed. Not that Owen was going to leave Torchwood, nobody ever left Torchwood and remembered doing it. He was not about to be ret coned and given a false story about the last few years of his life. It was the futility of it all that swayed his moods so drastically. He didn't really have much outside of Torchwood; because one night stands and pints at the local really weren't a life, not in light of everything he had seen. He could put up with Jack Harkness for that. He wanted to believe his insistence had finally paid off, because he was out in the field with Tosh, even if they were looking over a crime scene that was ten hours old, give or take. Their tech could sort out more than the locals' could, and Owen and Tosh were making the most of it.

"The body was found here." Owen gestured for Tosh, the object of his outlining having been long since removed. "Throat slit, Y incision across her chest and down her abdomen; like an autopsy."

"Anything missing?"

"Haven't heard yet, but I'll get you to pull up the coroner's report when we get back to the Hub." He glanced at his watch and made a mental calculation. "Should be on file by now."

Toshiko Sato looked around at the walkups that closed over them in the alleyway. She tried to take in every detail she could, as she passed her sensor pad over the area Owen had indicated. The crime scene was very much like the first two she had seen, a dark place, out of the way of street view cameras, and passers-by. It even smelt like death, she thought. And she wondered if the streets ever completely dried from the rain and the runoff and the damp. They had a glistening quality to them that wasn't pretty at all. She'd trod through many nasty things working with Torchwood, but this time felt as if she needed to toss the shoes she was wearing into the bin as soon as she got home. There was just that kind of air about the place.

"You feel it too, don't you, Owen?" She asked, examining his facial set.

"Yeah." He mumbled as he swept up the area with one of his scanners. "Swear there was a piece of the rift here."

"Is that possible?"

Owen shrugged. "Worth a look, don'cha think?"

"Yeah." Tosh's tone was a little guarded too; she hurried to finish up her own inspection, feeling the need to get away. "This place is different than the others."

"Only because we got here sooner than the others I bet." Their examination of the previous scenes had been cursory at best, long after the crimes had been committed. "This kind of stuff washes away in the sunlight."

"How do you know that?" His comment had startled her, mostly because she'd had the same idea; she just hadn't said it out loud.

"Just seems like it might. I don't know." Owen was edgy; She could see that in the tense muscles in his jaw. There was something otherworldly going on here, she could just tell, and it was time to get away from it and back to the Hub to sort it out, with Jack.

XXXXX

Jack had been watching the pair ever since they had returned from their excursion, but he hadn't been making a show of it. Ianto had noticed, but he always noticed those types of things. And he didn't mind the excuse to steal glances at Jack. His disquiet had been Ianto's as well.

Tosh and Owen had been huddled around her computer workstation for a good hour, they'd taken more coffee from Ianto, but had offered nothing to him as any sort of hint as to what they were thinking. Gwen had purposely stayed away from the huddle; she wasn't about to choose sides, however innocent her actions. She stole glances back and forth between Jack's office and Tosh's desk though, never quite managing to catch Jack doing the same. Only when Owen stabbed his finger at the monitor with a loud "yes!" was the uncomfortable silence of the room finally broken, and Gwen felt she had permission to join in the group.

From his office, Jack stood from his chair and went out to the catwalk, slowly making his way over, knowing that Owen would wait to make any more pronouncements about his discovery until Jack was there to hear and see for himself.

"What have you found out?" Jack crossed his arms, in the impatient way he had of saying, "okay, I'm here now, let's go". Ianto liked to think of it as a bit of a pissing contest between Jack and Owen that played out regularly. He hung back a little ways, closer to Gwen than anyone else, also trying to remain on the neutral side of the equation.

"All three women who were killed had internal organs missing."

Gwen wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"You got the autopsy reports then, Tosh?" Jack was suddenly leaning in a great deal closer than he had been, though as usual, his face was betraying none of the inner workings of his mind.

"I did." She grinned a little and toggled through the pages on her computer screen. It hadn't really taken much effort on her part, but accomplishing it, considering that Owen had asked her to do it, made her feel a little proud. The fact he had been standing so close to her, absorbed in the facts she had acquired, had left her just a wee bit giddy, not that she was about to acknowledge it to anyone else in the room.

"Besides having their throats slashed, the first one was missing her right kidney, the second part of her liver and right kidney, the third, the uterus." Owen said it so matter of factly Gwen couldn't help but shiver. She knew his medical background gave him that detachment, but it never ceased to frighten her when she heard him speak it out loud.

"Is there anything else they have in common Owen?" Jack had remained in the thick of the group, speaking with the same detachment as Owen. It made Gwen shudder again. Her emotional nature had gotten her into trouble before at Torchwood, but it was so hard to keep it in check, especially as she watched those two men, both of whom she had feelings for, feelings she tried to suppress, feelings that confused her as much as they excited her. She gritted her teeth and refocused on the important matters.

"The first two were last seen leaving pubs, in different areas of the city, the third was working the streets," Owen's euphemism for a prostitute, "and all of them were killed within blocks of where they were last seen."

"So, do you think the crimes were premeditated or attacks of opportunity Owen?" Jack's voice indicated he had an idea of his own, but wanted to hear Owen's first.

"Could be both, but I tend towards the premeditation possibility."

"Why?"

"Because to find a place that offered enough concealment might be had by chance in one case, but not in three."

"I agree. The killer knew his locations well, knew how to avoid the cameras, and the pedestrian traffic. But it doesn't mean that the victims themselves weren't chosen at random."

"Also true." Owen and Jack were getting on a roll; the whole of the team could see it as the ideas played off each other. It was good; it was how they worked best.

"He could have been looking for "a type" as his victims, and just knew where to wait for them."

"So you're saying this person went out intent on killing someone? Didn't matter who?" Ianto added his ideas, generally designed to open the floor discussion even further. It was one of his many talents. Jack suppressed a little grin at the sound of his voice. No matter what he showed outwardly, he had great respect for the team he had put together, and their analytical skills.

"That's the premise I think we should work with." Jack answered.

"So what is his type then?" Ianto continued feeding the group.

"Have you found anything else they had in common, all three of them, besides the way they were killed?"

"Not yet." Tosh murmured. "But now that we have the leave to continue?" She swiveled to Jack, eyebrows raised.

"Why do you think this is more than your typical psychopath, Tosh?"

"It was the way the scene felt Jack; it was otherworldly, there was just something in the air that felt 'wrong'." She tried to explain it, knowing that if any group in the world could understand what she was trying to communicate, this would be the one.

"Okay. Keep looking, tell me what you find." With his words, Jack ordered them all to continue searching, not that the tone was dismissive. The order had another one of his secrets behind it, they all knew it, but only Ianto decided to pursue it, and Jack as he returned to his office, his mouth drawn up in tight line.

Shutting the door, Ianto confronted him as he often did, as Jack expected him to do.

"So? What is it?"

"Just thinking about something, Ianto." Jack sank into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest staring out the glass wall but not really seeing anything, or rather, not seeing anything that Ianto could.

"From your past? Or your future?"

"Past, but I'm not sure, and I don't want to poison an investigation by making assumptions. At least not out loud."

"I understand."

Jack looked up at Ianto, standing by the door, hands locked behind his back, suit perfect, face neutral, eyes staring right back at him.

"I imagine you probably do, Ianto." He let his head bob up and down slightly, and slowly exhaled, knitting his fingers together and resting them against his lips. "Is it all right if we don't talk about it just yet, Ianto?"

"Of course." Ever the efficient Welsh butler, Jack stared thankfully at the man, and pondered just going over to take a kiss from him. Something about doing that always made Jack feel more grounded, but he never let himself explore that feeling, or at least he didn't often let himself explore it, except for some nights, when he stayed alone at the Hub, when his past transgressions demanded it.

"Jack?" The silence had unnerved Ianto.

Smiling, Jack tried to let the desire pass over him with a suppressed quiver in his chest.

"Sorry Ianto, it's nothing. Go see what you can do to help the others, okay?" He let his hard features soften a little as he spoke with Ianto.

"Of course." And Ianto did a little bow and turned smartly on polished black shoes leaving Jack behind.

As Jack watched the man leave, the idea of kissing him still lingered, and the idea of having more than that. He knew it wasn't the way to solve any of the roiling in his gut at the situation, but he knew that the distraction, that the pressure of the soft, innocent mouth, however brief, would be welcome. He let him go anyways. He needed to focus on this series of murders, and sat back in his chair, reviewing the files Tosh had found, now called up on his own computer. He could have said the first two had the connection that they were coming out of a pub, even though they'd been different pubs. But the third one hadn't been near a pub, she'd last been seen working her usual corner; at least according to police reports from her girlfriends on the street. But not one of them seemed to remember whom she might have gone off with, or where she had wandered on her own. There really was nothing overtly connecting them at all, two brunettes, numbers one and three, one blond, number two. One and two had regular jobs, office work, and retail, number three, well, not regular he guessed. They lived in three separate neighborhoods, all in walk up flats. The unhappy thoughts he had eluded to with Ianto, kept pushing to the fore, as much as he tried to find any other explanation besides the one that was pounding at him.

He made up his mind then to go and see the three scenes himself, and to take Ianto. If there was ever a time he needed to be grounded, that was it.

"Ianto!"

XXXXX

In inverse chronological order, Jack saw each of the three alleyways where the murders had happened, Ianto standing resolutely behind him as he examined each area, touching bricks, letting his hands hover over the spots where the deaths had occurred. Ianto did not ask how he knew, Jack just did. He made his own observations, and even though further time had passed, he, just as Owen and Tosh did, just as Jack was doing, felt the disturbance in the very fabric of the place.

"There is something off about this place, Ianto." They were the first words Jack had spoken at the final scene. "About all these places. Can you sense it?"

"I can."

"Normal killers don't disturb the very 'being' of a place, Ianto." Of course that was obvious, but Jack often thought out loud, (when working with Torchwood that was,) in a way close to that of Ianto.

"Is it an alien, or something from the rift?" Ianto knew that a great many of the problems that arose in Cardiff originated in the rift. If you pictured it, there was a sort of net around the world, one that generally held back most of the nasty things from other times and dimensions and places. The occasional small thing leaked through the net, the odd ghost and poltergeist, imp or elf. But when there was a full on tear, like the rift that existed in Cardiff, bigger things tumbled through it, and sometimes things went the other way. It was a safe guess.

"It must be Ianto, and we have to figure out how to track it."

"Any sensor readings?"

"A few. If I put them together with Tosh's research, we might be able to sort something out. At least enough to alert us, if whatever energy that surrounded this area, returns."

"Should we send Owen out to see the body, see if there's anything there still?"

Jack stood, smiling at Ianto.

"Brilliant idea. Let's head back and get that organized."

XXXXX

Once again, Jack found himself perched on his catwalk, staring out at his team, everyone with a job finally. Gwen had made her usual efficient calls, and Owen had packed up his gear to go and see the bodies, Gwen in tow. That had been a few hours earlier, and now they were inputting their data as Tosh correlated her readings to Jack's. Even Ianto was at a workstation, using his skills to research the three victims, trying to find any kind of connection between them that Tosh's search could have missed. Sometimes Ianto saw things others missed; it was another thing that endeared him to Jack.

"I've got it!" Not normally prone to outbursts, Tosh slapped a hand over her mouth, hardly covering the grin.

"What do you have, Tosh?" Jack's feet were moving before she'd even finished her exclamation, he could feel the edge of needing to make some progress as much as everyone else could.

"An energy signature, it gets fainter with each preceding crime scene, but it's there, and I think I can set the systems to alert for it."

"Good job." Jack clapped her on the shoulder; she took his enthusiastic reaction happily. "The next question is, once we see it will we have enough time to get to the scene before someone else gets killed?"

"Not without a lot of luck." Owen sighed. "Whoever this guy is, he's skilled, and he's fast. These women still had hemorrhagic tissue at the site of the excisions."

"Which means?" Jack turned to Owen, who had not budged from his workstation.

"Means that he slit their throats, and before their hearts stopped pumping he was cutting into them again." Again, his matter of fact manner sent a chill down Gwen's spine.

"You mean they were still alive?" She half squeaked.

"Technically. They were likely in shock, so they didn't feel anything. But for someone to be able to do that is pretty incredible."

"What about time of death, Owen?" Jack tried to steer the conversation away from the obvious gruesome.

"Middle of the night kind of stuff, Jack."

"And you can track it, Tosh?"

"Setting it up now, Jack."

"I'll make more coffee then." Ianto got up, rebuttoning his jacket.

"Find anything on your end, Ianto?"

"Nothing. No clubs, or gyms, or locals, or schools or jobs in common." He sighed. I've got a program running to look deeper; I'll leave it go."

XXXXX

JPOV

I cannot let this happen again, I can't. I watch everyone working so hard to find a clue as to who, what this is, and where he is going to strike next. I don't have the answer to the second question, anymore than I did a century ago. But I do have an answer to the first; well, I think I do. I just don't want to say it out loud, hell, I don't even want to think it quietly. I want to hope, and pray and light candles or whatever the hell it will take to make me wrong about this.

I look at Ianto and I want to tell him everything, especially when he stares at me, those beautiful liquid eyes seeming to feel sorry for me. I don't want to deceive him most of all, because he knows me. I'm hurting him enough as it is, with all my silence. He's been tiptoeing around me; they all have. One part of me likes the power that knowledge gives me, the other part feels like the outsider again. But of course, I am the outsider: out of time, out of place. I want to be like them, but I can't, and maybe that's the knowledge that kills me inside. I wish Ianto would just come up here, I wish I could just lose myself in his arms, and his body.

I hate that I am going to leave him behind.

XXXXX

There were pizza boxes and coffee mugs lying about everywhere, and Ianto had nearly given up trying to keep the Hub clean. They'd been five days waiting for something to happen, taking a few hours to themselves during the day, to go home, to shower and shave, and do whatever it was girls needed to do. There'd been nothing on Tosh's sensors, and no other murders (at least that was a positive slant to the endeavor). Jack was up every night, and they took turns staying with him, sometime in pairs, sometimes alone. That night Ianto had stayed with Tosh, and everyone was stepping around each other, not really concentrating on anything as fully as they should. The murders had become all consuming and Ianto couldn't help but notice the far away look that haunted Jack's eyes, at once it warned people away and beckoned them in to help.

"I think you need to talk to me, Jack." He shut the door behind himself as he went to the edge of Jack's desk and rested against it. When Jack hardly moved, Ianto reached over and put his hand atop of Jack's. He felt the man actually tremble.

"Jack?"

"Sorry, Ianto." Jack's voice was very quiet.

"It's been nearly a week, do you think he's done? Moved on?"

"I don't, Ianto, not by a long shot."

"You know who this is, Jack?"

There was a long pause, when Ianto could hear nothing else but Jack breathing, and he clutched at his hand a little tighter.

"He used to be called The Ripper." Jack smiled a little sadly, "Jack, the Ripper."

"What?"

"I don't even know where to start, Ianto." Jack's upturned face spoke volumes in its disquiet.

"You know him?"

"I know of him."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I didn't want it to be true."

"Jack?" Ianto's tone was stern and confused as he looked down on the man who had been, who was, an intimate partner, as if he really didn't know anything at all about him.

"We couldn't stop him before." Jack whispered.

"What do you mean?" His grip tightened again.

"He fled into the rift." Jack's voice was so otherworldly Ianto began to feel frightened for him. "I should have gone after him." His face turned and looked at Ianto, the regret replaced everything else. The men looked at each other, searching each other's face for a good, long pause. Ianto didn't know what to say, even though his mind was racing. Neither man moved.

It was almost a relief when the alarm sounded, even though it likely meant another life was in danger. Two tightly coiled springs sprung into action. Both their earpieces crackled to life.

"It's moving!" Tosh yelled into their ears. Her movement below was a blur of anxious activity. Ianto grabbed up Jack's greatcoat, as he usually did and held out the sleeves for him. There was no time to linger then, to let the scent of Jack infiltrate his nostrils. And, somewhat sadly, Ianto let the moment go.

XXXXX

It was raining in Cardiff, and well past midnight, the stones on the streets were glistening in the streetlights and headlights as Jack pulled the SUV to a stop where Tosh had directed them. They leapt from the vehicle, Jack's greatcoat floating around him as he did so. The men had guns drawn, as Tosh motioned them down another dark alley, running ahead, blue lights from her sensor casting a faint illumination on the stone walls. Jack could see the hunched figure before them as it stood, wheeling on their approaching party with a fluid grace. There was a body on the ground; one that was still breathing, her breath visible as white fog against rain and cold.

"Get away from her!" Tosh screamed, being exactly the wrong thing to do Jack thought, but it was too late to silence her. He stopped his advance, training his gun on the figure as it stalked towards Tosh. He watched as she was suddenly pulled backwards like a limp doll, almost into the void that seemed to surround the man. She was not out of his line of sight, but out of the range of his weapon, with her body now between his gun and her assailant. Her pleading eyes, now wide, stared at Jack and Ianto, who likewise had his gun trained in her direction. Both men could see the silver blade suddenly drawn against her throat, and the trickle of blood that began to flow from its pressure against her skin.

"Leave her alone!"

The next thing Jack saw was Ianto flashing past him, launching himself at the pair, knocking Tosh aside and rolling with the man who had held her captive so briefly. Rushing forward Jack caught her, eyes still on Ianto, who had the man by the wrists though he was losing the battle.

For Jack it seemed like slow motion just then, watching Ianto, letting Tosh down safely, trying to decide on his next step, all in only a split second, and then Ianto was falling to the ground, and the blade slashed again, and only a brief gurgling cry cut through the sounds of the street behind them.

"Ianto! No!" He raised the gun and fired at the assailant, nicking his left shoulder, throwing him off balance, and sending him reeling away from Ianto who slumped to the wet stones. Jack took off in a run after him, focused on catching him, barely hearing Tosh screaming after him, a warning, about the rift, it was lost in the anger of seeing his team assaulted, of seeing Ianto, bleeding, motionless. Emotions took over, the ones he guarded so closely spilled forth. The rain poured down on him, swallowing the noise. He saw the blinding light of the rift, but it didn't even register as he tore through it in pursuit.