Written for pearlseed's prompt, which was romantic J/I with a side of John Hart.


Few things beat a Cardiff street on a late November night for chilly and blustery, but standing on a high rooftop - without even the protection of the brick buildings surrounding him as they funnelled the cold, moist air like a wind tunnel down the back of his neck - was on that list. The rain had stopped, which was a small mercy, leaving only puddles to splash into even up here, pooling in the hollows left by the uneven gravel surface.

"I can hear you walking, you know," Jack said, not looking back.

"I can hear you thinking, you know," Ianto replied, not joining him at the edge. His private war with vertigo was going to stay private.

"Hope you're kidding, otherwise I'm going to have to frisk you for alien pendants."

"You might start with checking around my neck."

"What fun would that be? Anyway, maybe you got a piercing or something you didn't tell me about." Ianto couldn't read much of Jack's expression from behind, but he could imagine the pretend-thoughtful one growing. "Actually, now that I bring it up ... "

"Let's pretend we already ran through the conversation and you finished with the story about the real Prince Albert."

Jack's head did turn then. "I told you about that?"

More than once, with expansive (and exaggerated) hand gestures, whilst they were catching a breath in between games, or curling together for a little sleep. Before the two thousand years. Before everything. Before Jack forgot so many things. "You mentioned it."

"Oh. It's a great story."

"Yeah." He took a breath, and the cold air hurt his lungs. He'd done too much running these last few days. "I don't suppose you want to talk about it."

"Albert?"

"John." Ianto hadn't wanted to say his name, but someone had to break the glass. John Hart had come back yet again, and this time nobody had died, so that was practically a victory. But Jack's face had gone dark when John had wheedled him to join up for some good times, and Ianto could only stand so many shadows. "If you wanted to go off with him for a while, Gwen and I could hold things down here."

"You're kidding me."

"No, we're quite good at covering."

"Ianto." He'd turned around all the way now. Without the proper wind, his greatcoat no longer billowed around him as impressively, but wrapped around him in the wind like an old man's coat. "I'm not running off with him."

"I didn't think you'd go forever." Except for that he did, Ianto knew inside. Jack didn't belong here, bound to a small city on an insignificant planet long in his own past. Jack belonged out there with John, adventuring amongst the stars and perhaps keeping a tighter rein on his loony ex. "Just for a while," he lied, mostly to himself. "Get your head back."

"I'm not leaving."

"You want to."

"Sometimes."

Ianto didn't let the word faze him. He'd known, right? It was practically a relief to hear Jack say so. "So go."

Jack closed his eyes. Perhaps he had to scrape for a memory, perhaps he was just tired. "I belong here."

"On a rooftop in the dark in Cardiff?"

His eyes opened again, and Jack did a strange little sweep up and down. "Yeah. Apparently so." He took the few steps over to where Ianto stood away from the ledge, and took his hand. "That's where you are."

"I'd rather be anywhere else, and I'm from here."

"Not me," Jack said, and finally, there was a hint of a smile. He squeezed, and emphasised with the pressure, "I belong here."

Ianto frowned. Then Jack tugged him a little, reaching into his pocket. After a moment, tinny music floated up, no doubt from the speaker of his mobile, something old with too many trombones. He didn't resist as Jack started swaying with him, light dancing to music only Jack remembered.

"I belong here," Jack repeated, saying the words into Ianto's cheek, and finally, finally, he got it.


The End