It was snowing. Snowing in Cardiff. Snow. Snow. Snow. On the 21st of December. Some kind of temporal atmospheric disturbance from the ATMOS incident. But all the same, it was snowing.

At first, everything turned out fine. The tiny white rain fell to the ground. The entire Torchwood team was mesmerized, taking time off their jobs just to enjoy the snow. That was, of course, until Jack disturbed it by mentioning that it probably contained traces of the clone feed that had been released into the air.

After that, they had all went inside for a hot coffee and some slack off time in the boardroom. They laughed and swapped stories. Even Owen was slightly willing to participate. Of course, that was a little out of character for him, but everyone got over it after a while.

It wasn't until Gwen had called Rhys that they realized they'd been snowed in. On top of that, the snow probably couldn't be cleared away until Christmas Day. Gwen apologized repeatedly to her fiancée that she was sorry she couldn't be there. The rest of the team could hear Rhys consoling her that it was alright. When she finally hung up the phone, she looked at the rest of the team expectantly.

"What do we do?" she asked.

"We celebrate!" Tosh exclaimed.

"Oh great, Christmas cheer," Owen muttered.

"Hey! What happened to that out-of-character Owen?" Jack teased. "I liked him a lot better."

"Reserved for special occasions. Of course, a raise would-"

"In your dreams."

"We could play a game," Gwen suggested.

"Yeah, like what?" Owen asked.

The woman shrugged. "Cards?"

"You're being serious?"

"Do you have a better suggestion? And please don't go off about some medical procedure no one really cares about."

"Careful," Ianto warned. "Whatever he knows my save your life one day."

"We could target practice…" Owen said. Everyone else just stared at him. "What?"

"We're stuck in our underground headquarters and you want to target practice?" Jack asked slowly.

"Well…" Owen shrugged. "Improve aim?"

Everyone else just gaped again.

"Fine," Owen said, slapping the table. "I bet Jack five quid I could put a bullet in his head from across the Hub."

"Whoa," Jack started. "You are not shooting at me."

"Ten."

"That'd be abusing my immortality."

"Twenty."

"Don't," Ianto cut in. That could have been predicted. Every time Jack died or got hurt, Ianto's heart leapt a little. What if this time Jack didn't come back? After a few times of dying, Jack had gotten careless of himself. A bullet didn't mean much but pain. He didn't watch out for the guns as much as a regular human would have.

Jack reached over to Ianto, as if reading the archivist's mind. He planted a soft kiss on his lips. "I'll be fine," he assured. "Twenty," Jack confirmed pointing at Owen and they all headed down to the first floor of the Hub.

Jack rummaged his grey RAF coat for his revolved and tossed it nonchalantly to Owen. The medic stepped back, startled a bit, but caught the gun at the last second. Jack positioned himself across the Hub as Owen poised himself in front of the cog door to shoot. "Center of my forehead," Jack added, seeing if Owen would add to the challenge.

"Then what else do I get besides twenty?" Owen asked. Jack merely shrugged.

"Order him around for the day," Gwen suggested.

"No!" Jack winced. "That means if I win, that I earn what I already get to do."

"That just means you're afraid I'll win," Owen taunted.

Jack gave in and nodded his head. He leaned slightly against the railing and waited to hear Owen cock the gun and pull the trigger. The last thing he felt was the bullet burying itself above his right eye.

The first thing Jack saw when he opened his eyes was Ianto's beautiful face staring back at him, eyes filled with worry. Jack gave one of his cheeky smiles and planted a kiss on the other man's lips. "Who won?" Jack asked, feeling the blood on his head. He then nodded in understanding as he saw Owen take out his wallet and fish out twenty quid.

"Twenty quid raise on your next paycheck," Jack said, taking the money.

Owen stared skeptically. That meant that he didn't really lose anything. Since when did Jack become the saint?

The evening continued on. At periods, silence filled the super secret alien-fighting headquarters. Other times, they were all laughing and enjoying themselves. For some reason, Ianto's coffee tasted especially brilliant that night. He even put a little hint of peppermint, leaving that spicy aftertaste.

The evening ended with everyone dancing along to whatever Christmas song was playing on the radio. Tosh twirled Owen around, seemingly against his will. The man would never admit that he was having a good time. Gwen laughed and pointed as Ianto walked over to his boss who was leaning on the doorframe of the office.

Jack gave a heartwarming smile and exhaled deeply as Ianto rested his head on Jack's shoulder. "This is how it should always be…" the immortal captain whispered before planting a long kiss on Ianto's lips. Owen grumbled silently at the spectacle as Tosh and Gwen giggled softly.

Yes.

This is how it should always be…

Forever