Here's a little idea I had that somehow managed to grow until this was the result. We start just before Ianto joins Torchwood Three, and this will hopefully tell their story up until the end of Children of Earth.

Title is from Charlene Kaye's song 'A Million Years'. You should definitely check it out - it's about waiting to find your soulmate and is perfect for this fic!

Jack was covered in Names. Wrapping around his neck, right down to his wrists, all down his chest, his thighs, wrapping around under his heels. The latest few had come through on his fingers, one behind his ear; the only places on his skin where there was still space.

He'd look at them sometimes, in the mirror; twisting round to see all the ones in awkward places, the new names crammed between the older ones. At first they had come quickly, a new one every one or two months; after all, he'd been young (or at least, he looked young, and had a libido to match), had a newfound immortality which lead to many a poor decision, and he'd always had a tendency to fall in love easily. It didn't take much; a matter of days, really, filled with sleepy, slow mornings, afternoons full of intimacy and secrets, and wild, sleepless nights, until one of them got bored, or the wife or husband came home, or (in one rather memorable case) he'd found out he'd been with both the wife and the husband.

Some of the Names were well-known even today; Christopher Isherwood, Alan Turing, Marcel Proust, and multiple Pankhursts. Others were known only to him; Lucia Moretti, Greg Bishop, Joseph Smith, Estelle Cole, Melissa Holt, John Hart; but he remembered them just as well. Some of them weren't in any language he could read, although he knew who they belonged to. He couldn't forget any of them; not really. After all, they'd all left their mark.

There were others, of course; countless others, who hadn't stayed long enough or been exciting enough to really justify feelings of love, but their faces all ran into one – or two, in some cases – and none of them had left a lasting impression. And as much as he tried to deny it, then as time went by fewer new names were appearing; more and more were added onto the endless list of forgotten people. Something funny happened, he mused, when you stopped caring about yourself. It made it harder to care about other people. If you were unable to die, it made it quite hard to find something, or someone, that you were willing to die for.

There was one Name, however, which was different from the rest. It looked different; the large, flowing calligraphy that graced his left forearm stood out from the small, jagged script that covered the rest of his body. It had been there the longest, too; been there since the day he was born. One person, one person out of all of the universes, who was meant for him. It was the one Name he had where he couldn't match the face; where they'd never even met. He'd given up searching years ago, centuries ago; after all, if you can live forever, you're in no hurry to get anything done. He'd given up hope; if they hadn't met within his natural lifetime, what were the chances of it happening anytime soon?

No, he'd tell himself every day as he looked down at those ten letters that fate had picked out. Don't think about it, Jack. Don't think about him. There's no point. Just get on with your day, just block it out. Stop worrying about Ianto Jones.

Ianto Jones was in love. He'd been in love for a few years now, and he knew – he just knew – that she was the one.

Lisa Hallett

The Name curled delicately around his ankle, having appeared one day a few weeks into their relationship. It confirmed what he already knew; that she was who he was going to spend the rest of his life with. He loved her with all his heart, and he couldn't imagine loving anyone else. They would never be apart, he knew that; although she may not be his assigned soulmate (which was a load of rubbish anyway), although they wouldn't have that empathetic connection, although they wouldn't die together as soulmates do, they would be together forever. He knew it, deep down, and he felt his heart skip a beat every time he thought about it.

But sometimes, it wouldn't feel quite right. Occasionally he'd wake up before she did and feel a sudden sense of betrayal before remembering that it was okay, it was Lisa, he wasn't letting anyone down; or he'd feel the bottom drop out of his stomach as he thought about what he was missing out on, spending his life with Lisa instead of somebody else. He always made sure to squash those feelings deep, deep down though, because there was no one else. There never would be.

It was partly why he and Lisa were so great together; she'd seen her soulmate's name in the paper one day in her early teens – in the obituaries. She was soulmate-less too; it made sense, of course, that they'd gravitate towards each other.

Occasionally someone would ask if his soulmate had died, or why he wasn't out pursuing the girl he was meant to be with, and he had been known to tell people that she'd passed away; it was easier to deal with, even it was a lie – and he never said it in front of Lisa. The truth was that fate had just made a mistake with him. His Name wasn't right, and he was okay with that, he really was. He had Lisa's name now, and that was all he needed. Because he wasn't… well, he wasn't into that. He wasn't like that. He liked women, he always had and he always would. There had just been a mistake. People got married all the time to people who weren't their soulmates; it was fine.

Lisa had been surprisingly understanding about the whole thing, the first time he'd taken his shirt off around her. She'd gently traced the letters with her fingers, running her hands around his ribcage as they kissed.

Everything was different now, though. Lisa had been changed, she was ill, and she needed help, but the only place where she would be able to get help had been destroyed in the battle at Canary Wharf. He had to go back home, as much as he didn't want to, and take Lisa with him; surely Torchwood Three would give him a job, and he could help her there. It was the only way; only the kind of technology kept at Torchwood could save her now.

Nothing had changed, he was sure of it. London or Cardiff, he and Lisa could be together; it didn't matter. And if he spared a moment each day to pray that today would not be the day that he met the man with the name Jack Harkness, then he didn't think anything of it.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. I'm not sure how regular updates will be, but I'll try not to leave it too long! Please leave a review letting me know what you thought :)

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