3

With the glass restored, the house airing out and Ianto finding himself in a world of his childhood dreams, Ianto began the task of cleaning house. Literally. He started with his grandparent's room, one Estelle had left as it had always been and it felt weird to even sleep next to it. But it was so much bigger than the pokey little one he was stuck in with children's wall paper.

Once he had cleared it all out and set everything on the back lawn it was easier to go through it, find what he wanted to keep, discard what needed to go in the skip he had ordered. He found pocket watches, cufflinks, news paper articles, even his grandfather's world war one medals placed in a box in the back of the dresser. Wow. Didn't even know about those.

As Ianto worked he felt better, the scrubbing of the walls therapeutic even if they did sort of remind him of scribing the concrete back in that … stop it. Yes. Quite right. Thanks for that. Moving on. Back to scrubbing and then a lick of paint on the ceiling and architraves, the skirting and window frame.

The room looked brilliant. Ianto turned to Moses "We need to let it all dry and set. The smell of paint is so unpleasant, I know. But if we persevere and sleep at the flat tonight … I know. You hate it there. Not much longer old man."

Moses relented and agreed that the smell of paint did not go well with the fish he wanted tonight. Ianto got the carrier and the cat settled into it, then he headed to his flat where he met the landlord on the stairs.

"Mister Jones, is that a cat?"

"Yes. Just for tonight" Ianto replied calmly, "My Aunt has died and I am taking him to a new home tomorrow."

"Well … I guess so. Can it stay in its box?"

"Of course" Ianto lied easily, "And I am giving notice. I need to move on now … things to do."

"What?" the old man gaped as he looked at his best ever tenant. As hardly ever there and paid so well. "Well … got to pay the end of the month!"

"Of course, I already have and please take my bond for the last payment, I would hate for you to be out of pocket while finding another tenant." Ianto said with a slow nod of agreement, instantly pleasing the old man who had forgotten about the bloody bond. Good.

Ianto went up and began to pack as Moses watched from the arm of the sofa, careful to rub as much fur as he could into the fabric. Old prick. Stay in the box indeed.

Ianto snorted with mirth as he watched the cat stalk about looking for something to scratch. Again came the knock and this time Ianto was ready, stepping well back as Jack swished in and smiled disarmingly "Hi there. Whatcha been doing?"

"Aerobics" Ianto answered with a droll expression, "Good for the blood flow."

Jack stared, blinked then snorted … then laughed as Ianto turned to activate the coffee machine. Bum. Got to get that out of here somehow. Needed transport. How the hell cold he …

"Apparently Rhys asked after you" Jack supplied the answer, "Apparently you were in the school choir together and some sports team or something."

"Yeah. He's a nice fella" Ianto agreed as he placed the mugs down and Jack looked over at Moses.

"Still have him I see."

"Yes. Been busy ya see. Estelle's estate and stuff to sort" Ianto said, knowing the low blow of bringing her up would make Jack uncomfortable, "Found some interesting photos of your father. He was quite the looker in that coat."

Jack stared at Ianto silently or a while as something whirred and clicked, "You know."

"Well … Lisa put enough volts through you to kill a rhino in heat sir … on methamphetamine." Ianto said with that same blank expression, "but I knew in Bute Park when I saw your neck. Really."

"Really."

"Hmmmmm, Torchwood"

"Ah yes, Torchwood One, I forgot. Of course you knew more than you let on. Tell me Ianto, is any of your file true or did you make everything up?" Jack asked "Bar Lisa, since we … met."

A low blow back …. Ooooo tit for tat is it?

Ianto frowned at Moses and the cat flicked his tail as he presented his arse for his own low blow then he stamped to his food bowl, admitting maybe he should just butt out.

"My name is Ianto Jones. I am Welsh, born and bred. I a, 26 and worked at Torchwood One since I was 21. Before that I worked in a library during the day and at night as a Barista to make ends meet." Ianto supplied "My favourite colour is red, I hate rude people who push in line and love peonies over roses any day. I watched Lone Ranger, listened to War of the Worlds and prefer the written word to the movie. Also … I was not an analyst at T1. I was an operative. I had a level 2 clearance and know all I need to understand that you are not here to Retcon me or put a bullet in me. A bad man knows a bad man. You know I am not a bad man."

"Do I " Jack snorted. "Does that make me a bad man? Or a good one too?"

"Yes. A good man also knows a good man" Ianto rose and let his hand rest on Jack's shoulder for a moment before breaking the connection and Jack sat for a while as he pondered the warmth in the touch.

Was he truly a good man?

Were either of them?

How did he know he needed that right now.

At least someone believed in him after all.