"Jack?"

Jack glanced up from a stack of paperwork and straightened. "Ianto Jones."

Ianto hefted Jack's favorite mug, white stoneware with blue stripes. "Gwen said you could use a cup of coffee."

"Gwen was not wrong." Jack stood and stretched, then came around the desk to accept the cup. "Thanks."

"Any time."

Jack sipped the rich brew and made a noise of appreciation that bordered on indecent. "Ianto, have I ever told you that your coffee is amazing?"

Ianto thought for a moment. "Only one hundred and forty-three times, sir."

"Well, let's make it an even gross. Your coffee is amazing." Jack grinned and took another sip.

Ianto tucked his hands in his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet. Coffee delivered, he should really leave. Ianto had done a lot of thinking overnight, and had come to a lot of logical conclusions, but his heart still needed time to catch up to his intellect before facing Jack. He really didn't want to have a conversation with Jack—not with the memory of his indifference in the autopsy bay so fresh.

He was just turning away when an untidy stack of files caught his eye. As he automatically reached over to straighten them, his eyes traveled beyond to Jack's desk, half-buried in rift reports and sticky notes. He hesitated, fingers lingering on the file folders as he squared up the corners. By all indications Jack was seriously overworked at the moment, while Ianto had been stewing with boredom all morning. If he hung around, perhaps Jack would give him something to do. After all, whatever had happened between them personally, Ianto still had a duty to Torchwood. And he hated being bored—particularly, he had discovered overnight, when he could no longer nap or eat to fill the time.

"So." Jack hitched a hip onto the desk, clearing a space to one side to set his cup. "How are things going with you and Owen?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Are you inquiring as to our interpersonal relationship, or the progress of his research?"

"The latter. Though if you and Owen have suddenly developed a thing…"

"Last I checked the earth was still spinning on its axis, so no," Ianto replied dryly. "No breakthroughs to report, I'm afraid. He's running lots of tests, but we're still basically looking at a lot of guesswork and theories without any hard data." He watched Jack's eyes track his face, analyzing the visible changes in his condition, and tried not to squirm under the close scrutiny. At least the conversation was technical, rather than personal. He'd had months of practice shielding his feelings behind a wall of professionalism.

"No change in the glove or its output?"

"Nothing discernible. And having it in or out of stasis seems to have no effect. Toshiko is still trying to isolate that radiation signature."

Jack took another pull from his mug before his eyes flicked back to Ianto's face. "And how are you, Ianto?"

Had Ianto's heart still been beating, it would have lurched into his throat. As it was, he barely succeeded in keeping his expression neutral. Those words, spoken by Jack, had once marked a milestone in his life. That Jack would use them again now seemed almost cruel—unintentionally so, he was sure, but that didn't ease the sting. If anything, it only showed Jack's ignorance of the significance Ianto had placed on that pivotal conversation.

But Ianto had played the consummate professional under far more painful circumstances, and he refused to let the facade slip. "I'm fine, sir. Well, apart from the obvious. No change there. Still dead, according to all tests."

Jack's brow crinkled. "Except you're clearly not."

"I clearly am. The fact that I'm conscious doesn't alter my physiological state. It's like that famous line: 'Men are not bodies and have souls, but are souls and have bodies.'"

Jack concentrated for a moment. "C. S. Lewis?"

"Thornton, actually. Frequently misquoted and attributed to Lewis." Jack shook his head in appreciation of Ianto's apparently boundless knowledge, and Ianto decided not to add that he'd Googled the quote in the middle of the night as he tried to come to terms with his unique state of existence. "In any case, my soul is apparently still here, even though my body has expired."

Jack looked him over thoughtfully. "So if your body is dead, how are you still moving it around?"

"Best guess?" Ianto shrugged. "Some kind of residual psychic connection between mind and flesh."

"You mean like telekinesis?"

He nodded. "It's just a theory, but it's the only one that explains why my body functions only at will. I can still perform discreet muscle contractions, motor skills, things I had voluntary control over, before I… before. But this?" He reached back to tap the base of his skull. "Anything involuntary, anything controlled by the brain stem, is inoperative. Autonomic function, heartbeat, respiration, reflex actions. All gone."

Jack frowned. "But you're breathing."

"I'm speaking. Deliberately forcing air through my vocal cords to produce sound. But there's no true respiration, no oxygen exchange in my lungs. When I'm not talking I don't remember to inhale. There's simply no need."

Jack leaned back against the desk, the creases between his brows deepening as he turned this over in his mind. "But you're still conscious, and capable of rational thought. And if you're thinking, there has to be some kind of brain function, right?"

"Not that Owen can detect. No brain waves or neural activity. Owen also can't explain exactly how my muscles are contracting without electrical impulse, but the EMG shows nothing. Hypothalamus is no good, either. I've no metabolism to regulate." Ianto placed the back of his hand against Jack's forearm, and Jack flinched. "I'm guessing I'm around room temperature by now, yeah?"

Jack placed his hand atop Ianto's and flashed a grin, though it was less bright than his usual efforts. "I'm sure I could find a way to warm you up."

"Jack." Ianto withdrew his hand. "I can't."

"Sure you can. Basic thermodynamics. We cuddle up real close, my body heat passes to you…"

Ianto took a step backward. "I'm serious, Jack."

"So I've noticed." Jack crossed his arms and scowled up at him. "You were a lot more fun before you got shot."

It was too much. The indifference over his fate, the casual proposition, the mounting evidence that he had been nothing more than a physical diversion to Jack… Ianto's cool demeanor began to crack. "Yes, I was," he snapped. "That's exactly what I've been trying to tell you. I am dead, Jack. I can't eat or drink, I've no saliva, no tears, no pulse. I've no biological functions whatsoever." He shot a significant look at Jack's trousers. "Even if your engaging in necrophilia weren't a disturbing enough thought, it would be a distinctly one-sided activity. I no longer have the ability to participate."

Jack stood and reached for Ianto. "Hey, calm down. That doesn't mean we can't still—"

"It does, Jack. Whatever was between us, it's over now."

The words fell between them like a thunderclap, silencing all else. Ianto hadn't meant for the declaration to slip out quite the way it had. He'd been working up to it since his realization the previous evening, but had hoped to find a more elegant way to present it. Still, it was a relief to have the truth out in the open.

Jack's arms had fallen to his sides; now his fingers curled slowly into fists. "Is that all we are, to you?" he breathed at last. "A biological function? You can't have your fun, so you're through with me?"

The irony was palpable, and Ianto bit back a laugh at Jack's outrage. "Look who's concerned about fun. You're the one chatting up a corpse. If you're that desperate for action, I could recommend a couple of bars along St. Mary Street. The bodies there will be warmer than mine, I assure you."

Jack drew back, his face taut. "I didn't realize I… we… meant so little to you."

This time Ianto couldn't suppress the laugh, though it emerged as an hysterical yelp. "Since when did you care what you meant to me?"

Jack stared at him. "I've always cared. I thought… I thought…"

The words were bitter and angry and wrong, but too much pressure had built behind them, and Ianto let fly. "You thought I would always be there for your convenience. You thought I would come running to your bed whenever you called, because I was besotted with you."

"No! I thought…" There were tears building in Jack's eyes, which only set off the blue and made his gaze more striking. Damn it, that wasn't playing fair. What kind of man was attractive even when he cried? Ianto gritted his teeth and reminded himself that the tears weren't for him. If Jack had cared that much about him, he would have shown some distress when Ianto lay dying in his hands. This was nothing more than Jack's stung pride. He always has to be dramatic, Ianto thought bitterly.

After a few seconds of staring Jack looked away, and as Ianto watched the shutters came down, locking his emotions behind the steel wall labeled captain. "I thought you cared about me," he said, his voice as expressionless as his face. "I guess I was wrong."

"Don't you dare." Ianto squeezed his eyes closed. He couldn't hold the words back, but he couldn't bear to look at Jack while he spoke them. "Don't even suggest that I didn't give you everything I had to give. Don't you dare imagine that losing you isn't destroying whatever is left of me."

Jack's voice remained flat. "Funny way you have of showing it."

"It's not as though I was given any choice in the matter."

"Oh, like all the choice you just gave me?"

"Fine." Ianto stalked close, leaning in to him until he was certain Jack would feel the temperature of his body through his shirt. "Is this what you want, Jack? A lover who can't please you? A cold, lifeless body to chill your bed? Could you honestly be satisfied with that?"

To Jack's credit, he did not pull away. "You may find it hard to believe," he replied evenly, "but I do place value on more than just sex."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Right. I'd forgotten about our many long nights of intellectual conversation, uninterrupted by any kind of physical intimacy. Remind me again what we discussed?"

Jack scowled. "You're not being fair."

"No, Jack. Unfair would be expecting you to carry on as though nothing has changed." Ianto turned away. "Unfair would be asking you to stay with me, to pretend, just to spare my feelings. I'm only being realistic. Things are different now."

"They don't have to be." Jack seized his arm. "Ianto, don't do this to me. I need you."

It was so tempting to take his words at face value, but Ianto knew what he really meant. "What you need, I'm no longer able to provide." He gently detached Jack's fingers from his sleeve. "But you needn't worry. You won't have any trouble finding a replacement."

"A replacement?"

Ianto rolled his eyes again. "You've never suffered a shortage of interested parties, Jack. We both know you could have someone new in your bed within hours, if not minutes."

Something bright and almost desperate flared in Jack's eyes. "Is that what this is about? Ianto, there hasn't been anyone else. I know we never really talked about being exclusive, but ever since I came back…"

"It really doesn't matter." It did, though; it was gratifying to know that Jack had been satisfied with their relationship, even if he hadn't been as emotionally invested as Ianto. "You can do as you like, from now on."

"I don't know how you can just… end this."

"I'm not ending anything, Jack. It's already over, and there's no reason for us to go on pretending otherwise. You know that as well as I do."

"I don't!" Jack burst, real confusion scribed on his face. Ianto wondered if this were the first time someone had walked away from Jack Harkness. It would certainly explain his dramatic reaction. Perhaps he was used to making his own farewell speeches, and couldn't accept it coming from someone else. "I don't understand. Why are you pushing me away like this?"

"Because it's for the best," Ianto sighed. "For both of us." Even as he spoke the words, they scratched at his soul. But it was true: Jack could happily carry on with the next poor sap to fall for his fifty-first-century pheromones and charming smile, while Ianto… Ianto would be free of his illusions, his false hopes. Free to face crushing reality on his own.

Jack stared at him for a long, heavy moment. "This is really what you want?"

It was the farthest thing imaginable from what Ianto really wanted, but things could hardly go on as they had before. Not now that he was dead. Not now that he knew just how much he meant—or didn't—to Jack. "It's the way it has to be," he managed at last.

Jack turned away, and Ianto took that as a dismissal. He silently fled the office, feeling as though he left shards of his unbeating heart behind with every step.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was late afternoon when Gwen again knocked on the glass door. "Jack?"

Jack didn't answer, and she stepped fully into the office to find him. He was slouched over his desk, forehead propped against one hand. The papers on his desk didn't seem to have moved much since she'd left him earlier in the day, so perhaps he'd indulged in a much-needed nap. Poor thing; she almost felt bad waking him. "Jack?" she tried again.

"Heard you the first time. You gonna tell me what you want, or just stand there repeating my name until doomsday?"

Gwen drew back at his sharp tone. "I… Tosh has something on the sensors. Another anomaly. She thinks you should see it."

Jack straightened, but kept his red-rimmed eyes fixed on the desk. "I'll be right there."

Gwen retreated from the lion's den and joined Ianto and Toshiko at the latter's workstation, pulling a face and nodding back toward Jack's office in a silent warning. Toshiko frowned, but made sure all the displays were up and ready before Jack could ask for them.

When Jack appeared a moment later, he had smoothed a few of the the ragged edges Gwen had seen in his office, though there was still a shadow beneath his eyes. "What have you got, Tosh?"

"Another anomaly. Or possibly the same one, just spreading to a new location." She tapped a readout on the screen. "This is the one you and Gwen investigated last night. And this one," she moved her finger to another graph, "started a few hours ago. Small, at first; such minor fluctuations that the system didn't detect it right away. But it's growing, just like the first one."

Jack's frown deepened. "Where is it?"

Toshiko toggled windows to bring up a map. "Near Radyr."

Ianto leaned forward over her shoulder. "That's near my flat."

"It's all around your flat," Toshiko confirmed. "It's a relatively small area, just a few blocks, but it seems these anomalies have the potential to spread. It's almost like the epicenter of an earthquake."

Gwen squinted at the mapped area on the screen. "It's not shaped like one, though, is it? It looks more like an amoeba or something."

"No, there's no symmetry at all. There are tiny ripples that push little directional fingers of the anomaly out into the rest of the city. It seems random, but I'm trying to work out if there's a pattern."

"How far back did it start?" Ianto asked. "I can't remember anything out of the ordinary happening, but…"

Jack turned abruptly back toward his office. "I'll check it out."

Ianto took a step after him, then hesitated. "Do you want me to come along? I know the area, I could…"

Jack never broke stride. He disappeared into his office and reappeared a moment later wearing his greatcoat. Gwen expected him to collect Ianto on his way to the SUV, but he brushed past them without another word.

"Jack?" Gwen called after him. "Do you want one of us to…"

"I don't need you!" Jack snapped. He glanced back at her and scowled. "Don't you have work to do?"

A sharp retort sprang to her lips, but Gwen withheld it when she saw the look on Ianto's face as he watched Jack's retreating back.

Gwen returned quietly to her workstation and pulled up another batch of CCTV footage. Jack was tired, and he was hurting, and she was human enough to forgive him one day's nastiness. And though it pained her to see Ianto look so heartbroken, she had long ago sworn off meddling in Jack and Ianto's personal affairs. She suspected there was more between them than they let on, anyway. Their relationship could likely survive a few bumps, the same way she and Rhys managed.

But come tomorrow, Jack Harkness had better improve his attitude, or he would have a lot of making up to do.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jack pressed the pedal to the floor with unnecessary force as he cut across town, instinctively following the route he used on the nights he stayed over at Ianto's. Rain-soaked buildings whipped by in the twilight, too fast to identify. He slammed on the brakes and swerved around a sedan that had failed to clear out of the path of the blue lights fast enough, then gunned the engine again.

Jack snarled at the nameless shapes flashing by the window, resisting the temptation to ram the SUV into one of them. It would be irresponsible of him to plow through a line of civilian traffic or run over a row of parked cars, but he really, really felt like smashing something. Hopefully there would be something physical at the heart of this anomaly. Something he could punch. Repeatedly.

He whipped around another tight corner, tires squealing on the wet pavement. Maybe he'd go hunt up a Weevil when this was over. Hell, maybe he'd go down in the sewers after them. He could do with some exercise, after sitting in his office all day—

At the thought of his office, his grip tightened on the wheel. Whatever was between us, it's over now.

Tires shrieked as a van on a cross street skidded to a halt a hand's breadth from the driver's side door, and the near miss pulled Jack back to the present. He flexed his fingers, focusing on the task at hand. Stress relief would have to wait; there was work to be done. He switched on his earpiece and waited for it to click through to the Hub. "So where am I headed, exactly?"

Toshiko's voice hummed over the connection. "You're close. The anomaly doesn't cover a very large area. I'm sending the location through to the SUV now."

Jack glanced down at the GPS screen just as it lit up with a green cloud, clustered like precipitation on a weather map over a few blocks in Radyr. He slowed and turned down a side street toward the nearest branch of the cloud.

Immediately he felt an unsettling sense of deja vu, though he couldn't place why this narrow street seemed so familiar. Then in a flash of the SUV's headlights he recognized the boarded-up shell of what had once been a pub. The Ferret. Memories bombarded him again—Mandy. The Saviour. Ianto's betrayal. Torture. Death. Gasping back to life on an alien planet, inexplicably cradled in Ianto's protective embrace—and he stomped the brake, bringing the vehicle to a screaming halt against the curb. He slammed his fist against the dashboard and surrendered to the pain, his breath hissing in his throat.

Toshiko's concern bled through the tinny speaker. "Jack, what's happened?" She waited for a response, which he was in no state to give. "Jack? Are you all right?"

Jack bent all his mental effort on controlling his breathing. "Just getting my bearings," he said when he could speak without panting.

Apart from a significant hmph to let him know she didn't believe him, Toshiko remained silent. He was grateful for that kindness; he knew he would have taken it out on her if she'd pressed, and he would have regretted that. It wasn't Tosh's fault that his world was coming apart.

Whatever was between us, it's over now.

The words replayed again, his mind's needle trapped in the groove of that memory. Ianto had ended things with him. Ianto, whom he trusted above all others. Ianto, who had accepted him when no one else would. Ianto, who had stepped into the rift, fought aliens and monsters, and literally gone to hell for him. Who only last week had held his hand like a nervous teenager as they walked through the city centre on their way to dinner.

It had taken a nightmare experience in his own personal hell for Jack to realize the depth of his feelings for Ianto, and while he wasn't ready to profess his love aloud, he knew his heart was already committed to the path of eventual loss and heartbreak that ended all his relationships. No matter how tightly Jack clung to him, he knew Ianto would someday grow old and pass beyond the veil Jack could not penetrate. But that parting should have been decades away, a separation wrought slowly by time and age, something Jack could prepare for. Not this sudden break, a wedge driven between them by… by what?

Jack had been convinced that Ianto loved him. He'd never said it in so many words—there were so many things they'd never said; they didn't talk half as much as they should—but it was there in his actions, his looks, the way he intuitively cared for Jack's needs. Had that had all been an elaborate deception? Ianto had deceived them all with Lisa; could the tender, affectionate Ianto he'd grown close to merely be another facade, designed to gain Jack's confidence?

No; Ianto had seemed nearly as devastated as Jack as he pushed him away. Even such a superlative dissembler as Ianto Jones couldn't have feigned that kind of heartbreak. Could he?

Or perhaps there was something more sinister at work. Could the resurrection gauntlet be responsible for this sudden turnabout? It had warped Suzie's conscience beyond recognition; could it have corrupted Ianto as well?

"Jack?" Toshiko's voice prompted, and Jack clenched his fist tightly, using the pain in his hand to focus. As always, Torchwood came first. He would have to sort out his personal disasters later.

He slid the SUV into gear and eased back onto the road, more watchful of traffic now that he was driving one-handed. He hoped his split knuckles would heal before he returned to the Hub. Or perhaps he'd find something else to punch before then, and could blame the injury on combat. "I'm about to cross into the affected area," he said to fill the silence, though he knew Toshiko was tracking his progress on the monitors. "Anything interesting in the readings?"

"Not really. A few minor flickers. Tiny fluctuations, barely enough to register."

"Doesn't look much more exciting from this end," Jack muttered. He drove half a block farther, then had to brake suddenly for a cyclist crossing the road. The bicycle swerved and nearly toppled before the cyclist waved in apology and hustled to the opposite sidewalk, glancing back at the SUV with wide eyes.

"Did something just happen?" Toshiko asked.

Jack snorted. "Nearly ran over an idiot on a bike who rolled right out into the road. I've got all the lights on; it's not as though he couldn't see me coming." He frowned. "Why do you ask?"

"Just a little blip in the readings on this end. Nothing major." He heard her smother a yawn. "Sorry. You should be coming up on the epicenter of the anomaly in another block or so."

Jack searched the sidewalks for anything out of the ordinary as he navigated the familiar street, but saw only a trace of fog tossing back the SUV's bright lights. Out of habit he pulled into the corner space where he always parked and cut the engine. "I don't see anything unusual."

"Me, either," Toshiko replied. "Maybe it's indoors?"

Jack exited the vehicle and crossed the street, looking up at the dimly-lit silhouette of the building that housed Ianto's flat. Lights in fluorescent-bulb white or television blue flickered behind a few of the shades, but there was absolutely nothing extraordinary to be seen. He let his eyes wander up to the first-floor corner window, which was dark and desolate. He shivered.

A part of him knew he should ask if Ianto wanted anything brought from his flat, as long as Jack was here. Confined to the Hub without even a change of clothes, Ianto would be climbing the walls by now. He'd hinted as much by asking to accompany Jack here, obviously hoping he could stop off at home along the way. Jack knew he should offer, and yet he couldn't bring himself to speak the words. After all, hadn't Ianto made it clear this morning that he wanted nothing more to do with Jack?

Whatever was between us, it's over now.

Jack clenched his throbbing hand and let the pain steady him. His eyes swept the building again, and for an instant he saw it as it had been the last time he had stood here—soft light beaming from Ianto's corner flat, shades thrown open because Ianto knew Jack liked the view of the distant city lights. But as soon as he blinked, the vision was gone, the windows dark and the cold mist creeping ever closer.

Jack swore under his breath. This thing with Ianto had knocked him right off his game; he was getting lost in his imagination. He flicked his comm back on. "Tosh, are you getting anything worthwhile?"

"More of the same. Little flickers here and there. Nothing significant."

"I'm not sure there's anything here to find," Jack said, making his way to the end of the block. "I think it's like the park yesterday. It's a symptom of something, but whatever triggered it isn't on site."

"So how do we find what triggered it?"

"I'm not sure." He scowled up at another row of flats on the next block, just as innocuous and domestic as the first. "Maybe we don't have enough data to isolate it yet."

Through the earpiece he heard the faint clicking of Toshiko's keyboard. "It looks like there are a couple more similar anomalies scattered across the city, only they're tiny. Barely registering. I suppose we could wait and see if they grow like this one."

"Well, whatever's going on here, it doesn't seem to be doing any harm. I guess there's no problem leaving it for the moment."

"I'll keep monitoring it. The readings from the one in the park have been steadily increasing in activity, but nothing seems to have come of it so far. I've been monitoring internet and police activity, and so far the only hits for that area are a lost dog and a couple of minor traffic collisions."

"Doesn't sound like anything significant." Jack turned back toward the SUV—

—And promptly collided with two men in the middle of the sidewalk. One reeled back with a cry of surprise and landed on his plump backside. The other recovered more quickly, and immediately rounded on Jack. "Oi! 'Ave a care, mate. You berr' wa…" He hiccuped. "Watch where you're goin'!"

Jack cringed at the reek of stale alcohol. As much as he felt like punching something, he really didn't want to deal with the quantity of whiskey-induced vomit an altercation with these two would likely produce. "Excuse me, gentlemen," he said. He watched the fallen man flail helplessly for a moment, then reached down and hauled him to his feet by the back of his collar. The man's face tinged green for a moment, and Jack stepped out of sick range.

Clutching each other for support, the inebriated pedestrians wove unsteadily past him. "Din't see 'm at all," the first man muttered to his companion. "Not that pissed, am I?"

"Nah, bloke came out o' nowhere," slurred the other. "Not your fault."

Jack ground his teeth as he watched them totter on. "This is useless. I'm heading back to the Hub."

"Already?" Toshiko's voice trilled in his ear. "There was another little blip near you just now…"

"Scratch that. I'm going to swing around the city first, see if there's any trouble. We've been too busy to check the Weevil hot spots the last few days. Might as well do it while I'm out."

"But don't you think we should wait and see if the anomaly…"

"No," he said firmly. "There's nothing for us here."

Jack turned his back on Ianto's flat, hating how prophetic his words sounded.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

[A/N: The events Jack recalls in this chapter take place in the Big Finish audio drama Broken and the BBC audio novel In The Shadows, both written by Joseph Lidster.]