Words: 7226
First of all, this story was supposed to be about 500 words long. Second, I'm still unsure of the title. Third, the story is all-dialogue (complete with tags, so you get description and you know who is talking), so if that's not your thing, I warned you. Fourth, this took over a year to write.
"Hey, Jack?" Ianto inquired as he stepped into his boss's office.
"Ianto!" Jack stood up in greeting and walked towards him.
"You left your Vortex Manipulator in the Archives last night," Ianto held out the object.
"Thank you," Jack snatched the item back, holding it possessively in his hand before fastening it to his wrist.
"You know," Ianto pointed to the wriststrap, "It doesn't work. Not the time part."
"And?" Jack decided not to question Ianto's knowledge, by now used to the random information in the young man's head.
"There are things in the Archives that could fix it."
"Ianto, quickly," Jack grabbed his hand and dragged him closer, "Take my wriststrap!"
Ianto and Jack, lightheaded, teady to fall, their fingers quickly number and almost unmoving, unbuckled it from Jack's wrist. Through the glass, the 456 watched them with disinterest.
Jack looked at the settings thoughtfully. "This is set on the Senate of New New York in 5,000,000,053. The location is the same from where we fooled around with it, and there's no time to change it, but it's a good chance. Tell them what happened. You'll survive, Ianto. I promise."
The I won't be able to survive if you don't, went unsaid.
Materializing in a cold and dark room filled with skeletons, Ianto fell to the ground his legs unable to hold him. "Help!"
The Doctor's ears perked up, and at the distant cry, he tore off in the direction of the yell, Hame at his heels.
They found Ianto, lying face-down among the skeletons, breathing shallowly. Hame's nursing instincts, up until now practiced only of the Face of Boe, kicked in and she ran over to him.
"What happened?" she demanded, turning Ianto onto his back.
"Poisoned. . . gas. . . by the 456." Ianto replied weakly, trying to keep his eyes open.
"You traveled in time," the Doctor gasped, recognizing the technology, "That's Jack's! Who are you?"
"Ianto. . ." He replied, falling quiet and closing his eyes, opening them again when Hame started talking.
"He needs help," Hame turned worried eyes to the Doctor. "Now. The last attack of the '456' was in the 21st century. I know what it is, the virus that they used on him. It was a powerful biological weapon, though it's not as effective by now. The air here is filled with what is sort of like an anti-virus. It'll keep him alive for a while longer. . . but not that long. He's already breathed in too much of it."
"Who are you?" the Doctor breathed, his eyebrows furrowed and his tone demanding.
But Ianto was already unconscious.
"We can't stay here," Hame said, authoritative. "I can't save him anywhere else, either, but we need to get back to Boe. Help me carry him."
The Doctor, with strength that defied his frame, lifted Ianto into his arms and followed Hame.
What is it, Doctor? Boe's curious voice echoed in their heads as they entered.
"A man appeared here," the Doctor answered. "He's dying."
What of? Boe wondered.
"He was poisoned," Hame cut in, gesturing to the Doctor to set Ianto down. "By the 456."
What sounded like a gasp came from Boe when the Doctor put Ianto down onto the floor, letting his face become visible.
"So," the Doctor turned to the cat, oblivious to Boe's reaction. "How do we fix him?"
"We can't," Hame's eyes lowered.
The Doctor growled, remembering the experiments that had likely given her the knowledge, and Boe hummed soothingly at him. "Research? That's how you know, isn't it? Tests, experiments?"
"No," Hame replied, regretting her sisters' actions, but defensive of her own, then elaborated, "We also did actual research. Books, records. The virus, like I said, last active in the 21st century. July 9, 2009, to be precise. The 456 came to London, Earth to collect 10% of the planet's pre-pubescent children. Protectors of Earth, Captain Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones stood up to them, but were killed when the 456 released this virus."
The Doctor gasped at the mention of Jack, and everyone in the room felt Boe's mental flinch, but both motioned to her to continue.
Hame sat down on the floor next to Ianto. "The virus drains life."
"But nothing can do that," the Doctor argued confidently. "Same as there is nothing that can give it."
That's not true, Boe spoke for the third time since Ianto was brought into the room. Bad Wolf brought back Captain Jack Harkness.
"Of course you would know that," the Doctor grumbled, his previous sickness at the Captain's presence, the one that made him abandon him, almost overpowering his guilt at the action.
And that very same Captain Harkness fought Abaddon, the Rift Demon that existed to drain life, Boe added.
"Really?" the Doctor's eyes widened, as it was the first he'd heard of it, then, trying to regain his dignity, added, "Yes, but other than that."
He also encountered a pair of gloves that bring life, Boe finished, somewhat smugly.
"What?" the Doctor squeaked, first time hearing of this as well.
Boe explained, his voice heavy in the Doctor's head. They brought one of his friends back from the dead. A walking, talking, thinking corpse. He got disintegrated in a nuclear overload a couple months later.
"Those gloves were part of a larger suit," Hame took over from Boe. "Like a full-body armor."
They have something to do with this? Boe asked, surprised.
"Yes," Hame glanced at Ianto, a look that turned even more concerned at his pallor. "Back on their planet, the armor was what made the 456 so powerful. They altered a simple virus, much like the one of the common cold, with the power of the suit. It was most likely landed onto their planet by the Rift, the one that runs through time and space. What gave it so much power was the Rift. Before that. . . we'll never know for sure, but it might have just been ceremonial garb."
"So how do we save him?" the Doctor asked.
"I don't know," Hame sighed, and, for the first time, looked hopeless. "The way to counter the virus is to give life back to Ianto, since its purpose is to drain it. It sounds easy in theory, but. . . how does one give life?"
I can do it, Boe offered.
"No!" the Doctor refused.
Why not? Boe demanded.
"You don't know who he is," the Doctor pointed at Ianto. "Why do you want to give up your life for him?"
And why not? Boe avoided the question with one of his own. You'd do it.
"I can't argue with you, can I?" the Doctor asked, his respect for Boe making him give up the argument earlier than he would have with anyone else.
No, Doctor, you really can't, Boe smiled at his victory.
"How are you going to do it?" Hame wondered, wanting to dissuade Boe, but knowing she wouldn't be able to.
I'm keeping everyone on the planet alive, Boe replied. I'll just give a little of it to him.
"And if that harms everyone on the highway?" the Doctor demanded, annoyed that Boe would risk so much.
It won't, Boe's tone ended the argument, leaving no room for even the Doctor's protests.
Just as Boe was got prepared to explain how he was going to save Ianto, things got rough on the highway.
Martha, the Doctor and Hame were solemnly standing over the Face of Boe. His last message, that the Doctor was not alone, had been relayed, and with his jar broken, it was certain that he would die. The Doctor gasped as he remembered Ianto.
"What about Ianto?" he asked Boe. "You were going to save him."
"Who's Ianto?" Martha asked, confused, in a slightly choked up voice.
Boe opened his eyes, and the Doctor winced at the effort it seemed to take him. I can do this. Bring him over.
The Doctor obeyed his request and laid Ianto down next to him, then stepped back to Hame and Martha.
"What's happening?" Martha asked the Doctor as a glow passed from the Face of Boe to Ianto.
"I don't know," the Doctor answered. "But he's saving him."
One of Boe's tendrils had wrapped itself around Ianto and another had positioned itself close to his face.
"Is he kissing him?" Martha demanded quietly.
"I think he is," the Doctor frowned curiously, trying to figure out why.
While they were talking, the last of Boe's energy had passed into Ianto.
"So," the Doctor asked, drawing out the word and bouncing on his heels to break the awkwardness he felt. "How do you know Jack?"
"We work together," Ianto replied, not elaborating on their job and leaving out the part about their relationship, not knowing if, at this point, the Doctor knew that Jack worked for Torchwood.
"How did you get the space hopper from him?" the Doctor wondered.
"We worked on it," Ianto said evasively. "He gave it to me."
"Who are you?" the Doctor put a hand on Ianto's to stop him as he started pressing buttons on the wriststrap.
"Ianto Jones," Ianto gave his full name. "I really have to get going."
"Alright," the Doctor nodded, accepting the sparse explanations, and stepped away, sensing that, whoever he was, Ianto was not a threat. "Martha, Hame, time to say goodbye."
"Goodbye, Ianto Jones," Hame shook his hand with a soft paw, a look in her eyes that hid something deeper than just saying farewell to a man she had just met. "I hope it works out for you and your Captain."
"Bye," Martha waved to him in turn, not knowing what to say to someone of whom she knew nothing but a name.
"Have fun with him," Ianto indicated the Doctor, a smile on his face at Martha's confused expression before punching the correct coordinates into Jack's wristrap and disappearing from view.
"Doctor?" Martha wondered as Hame stepped back. "What about the timelines?"
"What about them?" he asked, a bit dissmissively.
"Won't they get messed up?" she elaborated, remembering what the Doctor had told her once, about messing with time, confusion setting in as she thought about it. "I mean. . . Hame said that Ianto died. But now he's alive."
"No," the Doctor shook his head, positive of his answer, but puzzled at how sure he was. "I think everything will be just fine."
"Why do you say that?" she asked.
"Because it feels like that," he took her hand and nodded goodbye to Hame. "Let's go home."
Ianto appeared in Cardiff, on the hole where the Hub used to be, a few days after the 456 had gone. He looked around, regret and a sentimental sorrow settling in at the sight, which he quickly shook away. The moon was casting a light shadow of the Millennium Center onto the Plass, and with it, one of Jack. He smiled. The man was, for all his other talents, extremely predictable. Ianto climbed up to Jack on the roof of the Millennium Center and walked up behind him.
"Jack," Ianto made the man aware of his presence, standing shoulder to shoulder with him.
"Ianto," Jack replied, almost desperately, and promptly pulled Ianto into a passionate kiss, released him, and kissed him once more.
"What happened?" Ianto asked, seeing the pain in the Captain's eyes and not letting go of him.
Jack swallowed heavily, and said, his voice filled with guilt, "We dealt with the 456."
"How?" Ianto wondered, his comforting arms on Jack's waist.
"They started transmitting and Clem was caught in the middle of it," Jack steeled himself against the thoughts. "We managed to backtrack the transmission. Killed the 456. Clem, too."
"I'm sorry I wasn't there," Ianto apologized, able to only imagine what Jack had gone through. "I meant to be back three days ago. Misfired."
"It was probably for the best," Jack sighed, justifying the sepparation. "I would have gotten distracted."
"You can get distracted now," Ianto offered, wishing to forget the past few days just as much as Jack did.
"It's tempting," Jack agreed, leaning back onto Ianto.
"Then what's stopping you?"
"Absolutely nothing."
Ianto was kissed again. And again, and again, and again.
"We need to see Gwen," Ianto mumbled into Jack's shoulder. "Tell her."
"Yeah," Jack replied quietly, Ianto's short hair tickling his nose.
"Did someone tell Rhiannon about this?" Ianto asked, remembering his sister.
"Gwen did," Jack sighed in annoyance. "It was the first thing she did. Even before she went to pick up my body."
"Great," it was Ianto's turn to sigh. "I'll have to explain everything."
"Speaking of explaining," Jack wondered, "What happened in New New York?"
"You sent me to the Senate," Ianto replied. "But it wasn't right. I don't know what happened, but it was abandoned. There were skeletons everywhere. I called for help. A cat came there. So did the Doctor."
"The Doctor?" Jack asked eagerly. "Which one?"
"The one from Canary Wharf," Ianto said, kicking away the vivid memories of the few hours that had destroyed his carefully constructed previous life. "Bit older, though. Had Martha with him. They'd just started traveling."
"He hadn't met me yet, then," Jack frowned. "Not Torchwood me."
"He didn't know you were Torchwood," Ianto confirmed. "I think he didn't. I didn't tell him, just in case."
"Then what happened?" Jack asked.
"I told them what happened," Ianto continued. "The 456, the poison. Then I passed out."
"How did they save you?" Jack, even though the story ended well, sounded tense.
"The Face of Boe did," Ianto corrected. "He did. . . something. Like what you did after Lisa. He also offered mind-sex, but that's beside the point."
"You are irresistible," Jack nodded, knowing what Boe must have been thinking and happy that the proposition had remained just that.
"Thanks," Ianto smiled, glad that Jack wasn't as jealous was he usually got when someone showed interest in him. "Should we go now?"
"Tell Gwen?" Jack asked.
"Yeah," Ianto confirmed.
Ianto stood next to Jack at the door to Gwen and Rhys's flat. They had just rung the doorbell and heard a harried "Coming!" from inside, so were waiting for someone to do so. A ruffled Rhys cautiously opened the door.
"Gwen!" he shouted inside, his eyes wide at seeing the men. "Gwen, get out here!"
She quickly came at the call, looking equally disheveled, and gave Ianto just the warning of shouting his name in happiness before throwing herself at him.
"How did you survive?" Gwen demanded after Jack and Ianto were invited in and given tea.
Ianto told her and Rhys the same story he told Jack, omitting several parts to simplify and shorten the tale.
"Did you tell your sister yet?" Gwen asked, blushing slightly as she remembered that it was her who, without Jack's permission, told Rhiannon that Ianto was dead.
"I'm getting to that," Ianto replied defensively, the calm in his voice not betraying his nervousness.
"Do you have to come?" Ianto asked Jack, stalling, as they sat in the SUV.
"Yes, Ianto," Jack repeated in a monotone for what seemed like the umpteenth time before getting enthusiastic, "I want to meet your family, not only as your boss."
"No," Ianto replied as David and Mica's screaming (they were playing a two-player video game) came from across the street. "You really don't."
"Why not?" Jack asked, still cheery.
"Never mind," Ianto resigned. "Let's go."
Jack kept a comforting hand on the small of Ianto's back as they made their way to Johnny and Rhiannon's house. The streets were deserted, everyone at home with their newly-returned children, so Jack didn't fear for the SUV. Ianto did.
"You can do this," Jack said as Ianto's hand nervously hovered over the doorbell.
"I can do this," Ianto repeated. "I am ready for my sister to meet the man I love, I am ready to tell her that we work for a secret government organization that catches aliens, I am ready to tell her that I came back from the dead and that my boss-cum-lover is immortal, and I am ready for her to invite us to dinner."
"'Dinner'?" Jack echoed, half in confusion and half in apprehension, but the sound of the doorbell had already echoed from inside the house.
The door was opened by Johnny with, "Whatever you're selling, we don't want it."
"Hey, Johnny," Ianto greeted, hoping to avoid any bear hugs.
"Rhia!" Johnny shouted, still looking at the visitors. "Ianto's here!"
"Don't you dare lie to me, Johnny Davies!" she shouted back, storming to the door. "My brother is dead, and this is not fu—"
"Hi," Ianto said softly, his words stopping his sister in her tracks, a grimace on his face, waving cautiously.
"You. . ." Rhiannon breathed, her nostrils flaring, "Are alive?"
"Clearly," Ianto replied, his default setting in stressful situations, sarcasm, viciously coming through.
She gave a small sob, like a sigh, but louder, and Jack and Johnny looked on as Ianto moved forward and opened his arms for Rhiannon to sag forward into a hug.
"Should we move this inside?" Jack offered.
"Right," Rhiannon extracted herself from her brother's arms and regaining her composure. "Right, of course."
She led the men into the house, where Jack and Ianto made themselves comfortable at the small table in the kitchen, she started making tea, and Johnny took care of Mica and David, who were in the living room. After herding them upstairs, Johnny returned to a warm mug, a seat next to his wife and in front of Jack and Ianto, and what promised to be an interesting tale.
"Gwen said you were dead," Rhiannon started her interrogation without preamble. "Either she was lying, or you have a lot of explaining to do."
"I was dead," Ianto agreed, telling, for the first time in his life, his sister the complete truth.
"So was I," Jack added, keeping up with his and Ianto's plan of no secrets.
"Jack?" Rhiannon directed the question at Ianto rather than at him. "What has Jack to do with this?"
"Other than the fact that we're. . . a couple," Ianto said, sticking to the conventional terms to describe their relationship, despite Jack's hatred of the term. "Quite a lot."
"Stop with the cryptic," Rhiannon commanded, fed up with the evasiveness. "And start at the beginning. Your job, since that's when it starts to get. . . weird."
"London or Cardiff?" Ianto inquired politely.
"Cardiff," she decided. "Jack. . . feel free to pitch in once in a while."
"Jack's my boss," Ianto said, leaving out Lisa, not ready to share the pain of betrayal. "I stalked him to get the job. Got hired because he liked my coffee, and because he was horny."
"And the pterodactyl," Jack added, remembering to tell Ianto that Myfanwy survived the Hub's explosion.
"'Pterodactyl'?" Johnny echoed, his surprise, to his credit, only visible through the slight raise of his eyebrows. "Where do you work?"
"Torchwood," Jack and Ianto chorused.
"You catch aliens?" Rhiannon clarified, remembering the city—almost country—wide rumors, and her previous conversations with her brother.
"We really are the worst-kept secret of Cardiff, aren't we?" Jack asked Ianto, his suspicions confirmed.
"Of Wales, actually," Ianto answered sarcastically. "Might be the way we dress. It's not exactly conspicuous. Or the fact that we have 'TORCHWOOD' emblazoned on the SUV."
"Anyway," Rhiannon interrupted the banter, which seemed to be an old argument. "What happened then? How did you. . ."
Ianto got the message when she waved her hands between him and Jack, and replied, "After months of harassment from Jack—"
"It's not harassment if you enjoy it," Jack butted in.
"Alright," Ianto agreed. "After a few months, we got together."
"Ianto propositioned me," Jack pointed out bluntly, noticeably proud, while Ianto blushed slightly.
"We'll skip the next few years," Ianto said then, neither he nor Jack wanting to tell that part of their story. "It won't be interesting for you, and they don't relate to anything. Nor are they fun to remember."
"Okay," Rhiannon nodded, giving him the go-ahead, knowing her brother would stand his ground even if she didn't.
"These aliens, the 456, they came to Earth," Jack started recounting the events of the past week, knowing them better than Ianto. "They wanted 10% of the world's children, because the Crown had dealings with them in the 60s. Exchanged 12 children for a vaccine. They thought that was the last we'd see of them."
"Hold on," Rhiannon furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, a trait she shared with her brother. "You didn't get to this yet, but you were dead. Both of you were."
"I'm immortal," Jack informed them, not delving into the details and not prepared to. "We're getting to the reason for Ianto."
"Oh," she nodded, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Alright."
"Yes," Ianto took over. "The 456 communicated their desires through the children of Earth, which everyone, including you, saw and heard. And through an old man named Clem."
"He was one of the 12 children delivered to the 456 the first time," Jack said, the self-loathing in his voice detected only by Ianto. "He escaped then, but nobody realized it. He was found on the side of the road and kept in a mental institution."
"We got him to help us," Ianto surreptitiously put a hand on Jack's knee. "Johnson, a lady who really likes guns and following orders, and Lois Habiba, a government employee helped us, too. Lois went to the meeting of high-up diplomats and world leaders with the 456 to see what they would say. Then, while she went home and Gwen and Rhys were minding Clem and Johnson, Jack and I went to confront the 456."
"We stormed in with just our guns," Jack recalled guiltily, cursing his luck. "Ordered them to leave. I was so sure it would work. It always did when the Doctor did it. But it didn't. The 456 said they would release a fatal virus if we didn't back off. I didn't believe them, so Ianto and I emptied our guns into the tank they were being kept in."
"They needed to be in a different atmosphere to survive," Ianto explained to Rhiannon and Johnny's confused but focused faces. "But the glass was bulletproof."
"They released the virus," Jack sighed, remembering, with regret, that he didn't know the body count. "Everyone was running, trying to get out. But they couldn't. The doors were locked."
"Jack's from the future," Ianto stopped what could have turned into a self-loathing, self-deprecating speech and gave Rhiannon and Johnny a bit of backstory.
"Right," Jack mentally shook himself free and got back on track. "I have this technology. A Vortex Manipulator. It allows an individual being to travel through time and space. The Doctor broke the time part of mine. But Ianto helped me fix it with things from our Archives."
"My Archives," Ianto corrected, getting territorial.
"His Archives," Jack agreed. "I taught him how to use it."
"We didn't have any time left," Ianto took over. "We got the Manipulator off of Jack and onto me. It had been pre-set to the future, so it sent me to the year 5,000,000,053."
"And they saved Ianto," Jack finished.
"Huh," Rhiannon said, knowing that a lot had been omitted but the full story had been told. "You're more than civil servants, I'll give you that."
"Definitely," Ianto agreed, glad that the hard part was over.
Johnny had, controlled by hidden glares from his wife, stayed quiet. Now, through another facial expression, she had communicated to him to get Jack and Ianto to stay for dinner. While he was trying to accomplish the task, Rhiannon went upstairs to get the children down to set the table. When she got back, Jack and Ianto had been convinced to stay.
Rhiannon sat the guests onto the couch and began to order her family around. Ianto started fidgeting at his inactivity and Jack put a soothing hand on his knee, which Ianto slipped off when he stood up.
"Rhi, let me help," Ianto begged.
"Fine," she nodded, knowing her brother's need to let off steam and gestured to the kitchen. "Main course is chicken. You can chop the salad."
Ianto spared her a thankful glance before muttering something incomprehensible about vegetables, and following Johnny into the kitchen. Johnny exited soon after, helping his children carry the plates and utensils. Jack soon excused himself and left Rhiannon with her family, leaving to keep Ianto company.
"That wasn't so bad," he recalled victoriously, stopping behind Ianto.
"It wasn't," Ianto agreed, his eyes not moving from the cutting board on which he was still chopping vegetables.
"You were worried," Jack teased.
"I was very worried," Ianto corrected, not bothering to hide what Jack already knew. "I'm glad it went well."
"So am I," Jack moved closer to Ianto, his intentions less than honorable.
"There's too many vegetables," Ianto groaned in annoyance, not reacting to Jack's invasion of his personal space and picking up a tomato.
"They're good for you, though," Jack answered, always a good sport in their game of seduction, putting a hand on his shoulder, startling Ianto, who cried out in pain and surprise as the knife he had been holding cluttered down onto the cutting board. "Oh, shit, Ianto!"
"Dammit," Ianto swore under his breath as Jack guided his hand from the cutting board to under the faucet.
"It's going to need stitches," Jack frowned apologetically at the cut on Ianto's finger, reaching for a paper towel to stop the bleeding.
"It's fine," Ianto calmly reassured his fretting lover. "It's nothing that hasn't happened before."
"Don't," Jack said harshly, the reminder of how mortal Ianto was, despite having just escaped death, making his heart clench.
"Sorry," Ianto replied, before looking down at his finger and gasping in surprise as it started to tingle, Jack looking at him worriedly and following his eyes.
"Ianto," he breathed, anger and fear swimming in his eyes as he demanded, "What didn't you tell me?"
"Nothing, Jack, I swear," Ianto whispered back.
The cut was gone, the pale skin of Ianto's hand marred only by the traces of blood that had not been washed away.
"What is going on?" Jack demanded again, suspiciously looking at Ianto.
"I don't know," he replied, too busy trying to not freak out to be offended at Jack's words. "What are we going to do?"
"Well. . ." Jack looked determined, and his outward calm projected its traitorous optimism onto the both of them. "We are going to have dinner with your sister, peacefully leave, go to the Hub—your flat—go to your flat, figure out what's going on, and move on with our lives."
"Alright," Ianto nodded, ignoring Jack's slip-up.
"How's the salad coming along?" Rhiannon called from the living room, startling the two.
"Perfect!" Ianto quickly called back before turning to Jack, who was tightly holding him, and hissing, "Jack, let me finish this."
Jack didn't let Ianto continue the salad, doing it himself instead, while Ianto stood by and moved the vegetables to a large plate.
"You'll come around again, won't you?" Rhiannon asked hopefully, if a bit forcefully, as she stood in the doorway with her guests.
"Of course, Rhi," Ianto answered for both of them. "Say 'bye' to Johnny and the kids for us."
"Thank you for dinner," Jack chimed in with a charming smile.
"It was nothing," Rhiannon assured, most certainly not blushing at the attention, before repeating once more, "Come again."
"Good night," Ianto bid her.
He and Jack walked hand in hand back to the SUV, which had stayed in its place. Jack got behind the wheel and drove them to Ianto's.
"Answers?" asked the younger.
"Tomorrow," Jack replied, before they melted into the soft mattress of Ianto's bed.
"So what you're saying, if I've got it, is that Ianto healed?" Gwen asked with wide eyes.
"Yeah," Jack sighed, regret seeping from his pores as he put his head into his hands.
"How do you know what it was?" Gwen wondered.
"I just know, Gwen, okay?" Jack grew irritated, and even though his voice was muffled, Gwen got the message to tread carefully.
"Why are you looking a gift horse in the mouth?" Gwen's tone, despite the warning, matched Jack's.
"'A gift horse'?" Jack repeated, outraged. "'A gift horse'? You think that this is a gift? That Ianto being able to heal is a good thing? Sure, this could be a residual effect from when he was saved. But it could also mean that he is like me! Did you think of that, Gwen?"
"Why would that be so bad?" she whispered, put out by Jack's outburst and careful of Ianto making coffee in the kitchen, looking a raging Jack in the eyes.
"I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy," Jack moaned, and a lesser man would have cried. "Least of all on the man I love."
"What if he is?" Gwen returned to her thoughts, mentally jumping up and down at Jack's confession. "What if you'll never be alone again?"
"Then I pity Ianto," Jack replied, serious.
Ianto walked in, stopping whatever Gwen was going to say, announcing, "Coffee."
"Thank you, Ianto," Jack said with a big smile as he accepted his mug.
"Heavenly," Gwen complimented as she sipped from her own.
"What did I miss?" Ianto asked, joining Jack on the couch across from Gwen.
"Nothing," Jack shrugged, and she didn't correct him. "Just catching Gwen up."
"So what are you going to do about it?" she asked.
"We'll contact the Doctor," Jack decided, trying to contain his blind worship of the man. "He should know."
"And if he doesn't?" Gwen demanded.
"Then we'll find someone who does."
"Martha Jones, voice of a nightingale," Jack greeted cheerily and predictably.
"It's 'Smith' now, thank you very much," she corrected, newlywed cheer still obvious at the mention of her new marriage.
"So I'm 'Jones' now?" Mickey piped up over speakerphone.
"Noble surname," Jack congratulated.
"What'd you want?" Martha wondered.
"We need you to get us in touch with the Doctor," Jack wasted no time on pleasantries and cut to the chase.
"'Us'?" Mickey echoed, his wide eyes obvious even on the phone's other side. "You've settled down?"
"With Ianto," Jack answered happily, then called, "Ianto! Say 'hi'!"
"Hi," Ianto said, coming in from the bathroom and pointing at the phone. "That Martha?"
"And Mickey," Jack confirmed.
Martha cleared her throat. "Hi, Ianto. Now back to your request."
"We need the Doctor," Jack repeated, now so that Ianto could be included in the conversation.
"We can call him," Martha said dubiously. "Don't know if he'll pick up, but we can try."
"Now?" Micky wondered.
"Sure," Martha agreed. "Call from your phone, so they can hear."
Jack and Ianto anxiously listened to the beeps of Mickey's phone. After a long silence and a pregnant pause, the Doctor finally picked up.
"Hello!" he called enthusiastically.
"Doctor, it's Mickey," Mickey greeted, adding, when Martha nudged him, "And Martha."
"No Pond, don't touch that!" the Doctor cried to someone on the other side of the phone, before replying, "Hello."
"Doctor," Martha laughed at his harried tone, hoping to keep him on the phone long enough to have at least half of a discussion. "Jack has some questions."
"Oh?" he wondered. "What about?"
"About Ianto," Jack answered from his side of the conversation.
"'Ianto'," the Doctor repeated, testing the name on his tongue. "'Ianto'. Oh, that Ianto! How is he?"
"He's fine," Jack cut the small talk. "Except for one thing."
"Yes," the Doctor drew out. "That thing. I meant to talk to you about it, if it's any consolation."
"What is it?" Jack demanded. "What's wrong with him?"
"What are you doing?" the Doctor was once again talking to someone next to him, probably a Companion. "No, don't!"
"What's going on?" Martha asked, resisting the urge to chuckle again.
"Run, Ponds!" the Doctor's phone clattered down, and his voice sounded distant when he hollered, "We'll be there at 6:00-ish!"
"I'll cook dinner, then," Martha sighed.
"We'll be right over," Jack informed before hanging up.
"What car are we taking?" Ianto wondered.
"SUV," Jack led the way to the door. "Call Gwen, tell her to go on vacation. UNIT can cover the Rift."
"Alright," Ianto agreed, helping Jack into his greatcoat and preparing for a conference with both parties.
"Come in," Martha opened the door to her and Mickey's flat. "Dinner's on the table. No one's going to stay that long, but. . . that's why it's cheap takeaway."
Jack laughed and went in, Ianto right behind him.
"Is he coming on time?" Mickey asked when the trio went in.
"Probably not," Martha shrugged, not bothered by it. "Do you want to eat now, or do we give it a chance and wait for him?"
"Is there any chance of him being here on time?" Ianto wondered.
"A slight one," Martha answered. "He told us the time, and he can track the date from his phone. I know he dropped it, but it's connected to the TARDIS."
"So we're flying farsighted," Ianto concluded with a grin.
"Pretty much," Martha smiled the wild smile of one associated with the Doctor.
Jack and Mickey were already taking the first bite from their loaded plates. Ianto and Martha shrugged and did the same.
The Doctor barged into the unlocked apartment with, "Am I late?"
"Just a bit," Martha replied nonchalantly.
"You missed dessert," Ianto commented.
"What was it?" asked the redhead standing behind the Doctor with a strong Scottish accent.
"Ice cream," Mickey answered. "Chocolate."
"Hi," Jack stood up from the table and walked over to the visitors, "Captain Jack Harkness."
"Amy," the girl answered with a flirty smile.
"We're married," added a mousy-haired young man who was standing further behind the Doctor, sounding both possessive and resigned.
"That's never stopped him before," Ianto commented, by now used to Jack's ways, making his way to him.
"Amy, Rory," the Doctor introduced, pointing as he named. "Martha and Mickey, they used to be Companions. Now they're married. Jack, he also traveled with me, and that's Ianto."
"We have leftovers," Martha offered, breaking the silence.
"No, thanks," the Doctor answered for all of them despite the eager looks on Amy and Rory's faces at the mention of food.
"Why are we here, Doctor?" Amy wondered, her voice with a slight whine to it that could be attributed to hunger. "If not to eat?"
"They're here because of Ianto," Jack cut in, his words trying to urge the Doctor into talking. "The Doctor saved him, but there's something he needs to explain."
"Do all of you talk like that?" Rory wondered, then blushed at his forwardness.
"Like what?" Jack asked, looking around, a puzzled expression on his face. "All of who?"
"You hero types," Rory elaborated. "You know. . . mysteriously. Talking like the bad guy or the wise old man with all the answers in a badly-written book."
"I don't do that," Jack chucked, then turned to Ianto. "Do I do that?"
"Sometimes," Ianto nodded, "Most of the time."
"Sorry," Jack didn't sound apologetic, merely matter-of-fact.
"Are you staying?" Martha wondered. "Or are you taking them?"
"I'm taking all of you!" the Doctor announced.
"Where?" Mickey asked dubiously when it seemed no one else was going to.
"Dinner," the Doctor replied as if it were obvious.
"But we have dinner," Martha protested, pointing at the half-empty takeaway boxes and plates in the other room.
"You have dinner in a flat in London," the Doctor countered. "I have dinner reservations in Barcelona. The city, not the planet."
"Once and always," Martha sighed, sharing a shrug with Mickey before following the Doctor.
"You are going to love this," Jack whispered to Ianto as they capped off the procession to the TARDIS.
"She's very practical," he said as the veteran travelers looked at him for his reaction, awe in his voice as the flattered TARDIS sent a flash of warmth at him.
"Don't take Ianto from me, girl," Jack teased the ship.
"I think she likes him more than she does you," Martha laughed at the Doctor's look of shock.
"Doc?" Jack asked quietly into his ear as the TARDIS landed. "When are we going to get answers?"
"We're almost late for the reservations," the Doctor replied distractedly, not looking at him. "I think then.
Ianto exchanged a look with Jack. The older man was worried for Ianto, for what the Doctor was going to say. Or, based on the signs he was giving, if he was going to say anything.
The table was round, but, somehow, it had ended up that the Doctor was at the head of the table, Jack and Ianto to his left, Martha and Mickey to his right, with Amy and Rory closing the circle. Until the main course arrived, it was filled with Small talk.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," the Doctor began. "Right when it happened."
"Why didn't you?" Jack asked before Ianto could.
"I didn't know what happened," the Doctor replied. "Not then, anyway. I pieced it together when Jack refused to travel with me, after what happened with the Master."
Both Jack and Martha flinched at the memories, and Ianto brushed Jack's hand with his under the table, as Jack said, "What exactly did you piece together?"
"But I couldn't tell you when I saw you," the Doctor continued. "Because it hadn't happened to you yet."
"You could have stopped by," Jack berated. "Before we panicked."
"It was a fixed point, Jack," the Doctor said sternly. "You know I can't do anything about it."
Amy and Rory exchanged concerned glances over their lobster as Jack seemed to mellow. The Doctor was anxious, they could tell. He wasn't looking at Jack and Ianto, at least, not straight at them, almost as if it pained him to do so.
"The story starts with the 456. With you, Jack, giving them the children in 1965. The 456 are a cruel race, worse than you know," the Doctor ignored Jack's snort and the puzzled looks sent their way. "They go to many planets, not just Earth, to demand children. You're the first to resist. That's humans for you, always doing new things!"
"How did Ianto survive, Doctor?" Jack near growled. "How is he—is he like. . . like me?"
"Well. . ." the Doctor drew out the moment, then sighed and continued, this time much quicker and sure of himself. "No."
"That's. . . that's good," Jack nodded, his heart constricting at the thought of Ianto dying again, if he had anything to do with it, much later.
"How did I heal?" Ianto asked, following Jack's trail of thought.
"You're not like Jack," the Doctor repeated. "At least, not exactly like him."
"No one can come close to this," Jack boasted with a wide grin, hiding his true feelings about his condition.
"You'll live for a pretty long time," the Doctor said. "Jack will only be alone for a hundred, give or take a few, years."
After that, no matter how hard Jack tried—and he tried hard—he did not get anything out of the Doctor and the conversation turned to catch-up, out of which he tuned out and Ianto put a mask on his face for.
"You could have told us immediately," Ianto pointed out, a bit angrily, as the Doctor lingered with him at the door to his and Jack's room.
"It hurts me to just look at you," the Doctor frowned. "Like carsickness. I can't help it, and I can't deal with it. It's better than it used to be. Just talking about it makes me want to vomit."
"How do you think I feel?" Ianto demanded quietly. "Two days' turmoil just to find out that there's nothing we can do?"
"I'm sorry," the Doctor replied guiltily. "This. . . this sickness. . . it's not something I can do anything about. I can't predict it. It's as unstable as time itself."
"Right," Ianto nodded, not convinced, and went into the room, shutting the door behind him.
"I'm sorry," Jack whispered, still standing, as Ianto lay in their large bed aboard the TARDIS.
"What for?" Ianto asked, his voice sounding just as tired as he looked.
"You shouldn't have to live like this," Jack turned away and stood next to the closet, looking at his coat.
"Neither should you," Ianto pointed out, failing to make himself comfortable.
"I wouldn't wish this on anyone," Jack almost wailed, but his voice sounded empty in the large room. "I can't believe I ever wanted it for you."
"When?" Ianto wondered, directing the question at the ceiling, now lying on his back. "Before it actually happened? Was it a spur of the moment thing, when I said I couldn't get out of Thames House?"
"When I realized I loved you," Jack lifted a fist and weakly hit it against the wall in anger, but it didn't even make a sound. "Then I knew I wouldn't wish it on anyone. I hated myself for wanting you to—"
"It's completely human," Ianto replied. "You've been alone too long."
"But you don't have to be," Jack shook his head, and his hair, which almost had a life of its own, didn't move.
"I can leave," Ianto offered, almost challenging Jack. "Is that what you want?"
"I don't know what I want," he replied. "And I wish I did."
"We have forever to figure it out," Ianto pointed out.
"Don't—" Jack's voice broke, "Don't joke about that."
"I'm not," the pillow rustled as Ianto shook his head. "I'm completely serious."
"That's the problem," Jack started for the door.
"Where are you going?" Ianto called, controlling his voice so that most traces of desperation disappeared from it.
"I don't know," Jack shrugged. "Somewhere. Anywhere."
"The Doctor's taking us back to Cardiff in the morning," Ianto said. "Are you not coming anymore?"
"I don't know."
Ianto sighed and put his head down onto his pillow, closing his eyes to try and sleep, alone in the large bed. He waited for the door to click shut after Jack, but it never opened, and he quickly drifted off, emotionally drained and physically exhausted.
"We're here!" the Doctor's voice floated into the room from the hall, followed by the sound of his footsteps as he walked away.
Ianto, prepared to be the only one in the room, was in for a surprise when he sat up and found himself face to face with Jack.
"You're here," he said, his eyes wide.
"I fell asleep," Jack indicated a place right next to the door, where the carpet was flatter than its surroundings, before admitting, "I didn't mean to."
"I know," Ianto nodded. "It's good you did. How are you dealing?"
"I'm not," Jack answered truthfully.
"I'd like to think I am," Ianto cracked a smile, laughing at the both of them.
"We have forever to figure things out," Jack threw Ianto's previous words back at him.
"What do we do in the mean time?" Ianto wondered, noticing, absently, that they had moved closer together.
Jack reached out a hand, which Ianto took readily. "We go home."