Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the Who-verse. That honour belongs to RTD and the mighty and glorious BBC.
A/N: Thanks as always to my beta, Orion Lyonesse, and to everyone who has read, reviewed (hint, hint), alerted and favourited. Enjoy!
By the time Jack eased the SUV into the allotted parking space under the Millennium Centre, the storm had settled in directly over the bay. In the darkness, vivid flashes of lightning studded the sky whilst a heavy metal thrash band seemed to have taken up station above the Hub. In the underground parking structure, the continuous rolling thunder was muted, the VIP-designated car park, reserved for members of the Welsh Assembly, now deserted save for the lone figure of Ianto Jones, shivering slightly, leaning against the anonymous metal door that marked the entrance to the Hub. Beside him, somewhat incongruously, a metal gurney waited to receive the body from the boot of the SUV.
Jack killed the engine and pushed open the driver's door. Wordlessly he stepped down and retreated behind the bulk of the SUV. Gwen clambered out of the passenger side, her black hair plastered flat against her head in long rat's tails, the shoulders of her leather jacket still shedding droplets of water down her arms as she moved, dripping from her elbows onto the floor. Her black jeans were sodden, now appearing two shades darker than their true colour. Her face, damp cheeks glistening under the harsh electric lighting, softened as Ianto stepped forward, handing her a white, fluffy towel. Taking note of the edgy nervousness which positively radiated from him she smiled encouragingly. Ianto looked past her into the SUV, trying not to grimace as he saw the telling dark stain of water on the upholstery. Something else for him to clean up. Gwen saw him look.
"I'm sorry," she said automatically, with a small shrug and sigh of apology. "It's monsoon season out there."
"So I gathered…" Ianto nodded, his voice careful and controlled. It was taking all his skills to hold it all together, she realised. The defences were in place but how long they would last was anyone's guess. She really hoped Jack made his move soon, before it was too late. Too late for any of them.
Ianto continued, "The water level is up a good inch in the basin and Myfanwy is really kicking off at the thunder. So far it's taken three bars of my best plain chocolate just to keep her calm."
Although he was speaking to Gwen, Ianto's gaze was fixed firmly on the back of the SUV, where Jack was still hidden. Gwen threw the towel over her head, ostensibly to mop some of the wetness out of her hair, but really to give Jack and Ianto the illusion of a little privacy. Ianto recognised the gesture and immediately determined that Gwen deserved his best frothy hot chocolate complete with whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles and those little pink and white marshmallows she was so dismissive of, but secretly loved.
He had done a lot of thinking in the hours since Jack had stormed out of the Hub and he knew now what he had to do. Whatever the consequences. Taking a deep calming breath Ianto stepped round the back of the SUV where Jack had already opened the boot wide and was manhandling the body out towards the sill.
"Do you want a hand with that?" he asked smoothly, determined not to let another row develop. Without waiting for Jack's reply he stepped back round the SUV and pulled the gurney into position, aligned with the boot's sill.
"Thanks," Jack muttered, still not raising his head to meet Ianto's eyes. "He's heavier than he looks."
Ianto grabbed the opposite side of the body bag and between them they managed to wrestle the wet heavy duty plastic bag onto the metal trolley. Keeping his eyes lowered Jack began to tighten the webbing straps across the bag, making sure the body was secure. As his hand crossed over to Ianto's side of the trolley, Ianto trapped it beneath his own. Startled Jack's eyes flicked up, finally meeting Ianto's. His heart almost stopped at the expression he beheld there: ocean's of sadness and a tidal mix of pity and understanding.
Jack swallowed hard. Now was the time. If he was going to say something, he had to do it now. In a cold parking garage, with a dead body between them and Gwen only feet away, no doubt eavesdropping on every word.
"Ianto," he began woodenly, his tongue thick and awkward in his mouth. He kept his voice low. "I...we...need to talk." The final part of the sentence spilt from his lips in a rush as though it could no longer be contained. Which, as far as Jack was concerned, it couldn't.
Ianto brought Jack's hand up to his face and pressed his mouth to Jack's warm fingers in a brief, gentle kiss.
"Later," he murmured just loud enough for Jack to hear. "When we can...talk...without interruption." The hesitation in his voice, and the fleeting smile which touched his lips made Jack's pulse leap. Clearly talking was not the only thing Ianto had on his mind. Was he really to be forgiven so easily? Jack returned his smile tentatively and extracted his fingers, brushing his thumb across Ianto's slightly parted lips in a light but deliberately provocative gesture, before letting his hand fall back to the cold metal of handle of the trolley.
"Shall we?" he asked formally. With a touch of his old swagger, he bowed slightly to Ianto.
"By all means. After you," Ianto replied, returning the bow, his right arm passing before him in a wide sweeping motion. "Sir."
Surreptitiously listening to the exchange, Gwen rolled her eyes. She wasn't sure which was worse, the fighting or the weird unexpected flirting. But glancing covertly at Jack's relieved face and Ianto's half smile as they passed, she knew that the flirting was infinitely preferable. Even when, like now, the fighting still lay just below the surface, waiting for a chance to erupt. She just hoped that Jack and Ianto could hold on to the flirting long enough to sort things out.
Manoeuvring the gurney through the long cramped corridors of the Hub was a tricky business, despite frequent practice over the years, and it took a good ten minutes before Old Joe had taken up residence on the long gleaming autopsy table. From his vantage point on the circular walkway Jack looked down at Gwen and Ianto standing at either side of the table, clearly considering his options.
Gwen glared back up at him before looking down pointedly at her dripping clothes which were creating a small but definite puddle at her feet. Her eyes narrowed warningly as Jack opened his mouth to speak.
"Gwen, you better go find some dry clothes before you catch your death. Ianto, you can do the autopsy," he ordered, with a grin.
"Right decision, Harkness," Gwen growled as she started up the med bay stairs, her sights firmly set on the prospect of a long, hot shower. Ianto caught Jack's eye and they both tried not to smirk as Gwen squelched her way towards the locker room.
"Hot chocolate when you're done?" Ianto called after her, receiving only a weary nod in reply. "How come Gwen looks like a drowned rat and you are barely damp?" he continued, directing his question towards Jack who was leaning on the banister, his eyes firmly fixed on Ianto.
Jack shrugged. "No idea. It's the power of the coat, I suppose. Why do you think I'm never without it?" He shook his head sending a spay of fine water droplets into the air. "See. Hair's wet, coat's dry. Magic!"
Ianto felt his stomach lurch with desire. He blinked rapidly to try and bring his thoughts back to the matter at hand, rather than the vision of his fingers entwined in Jack's hair as his lover writhed beneath him. Stop it, he told himself severely, autopsy first, then talking, then, if everything went according to plan, a lengthy visit to Jack's bunker.
"So," he said hastily, swallowing hard. "Not relegated to haberdashery today then?"
Jack looked at him quizzically. Ianto's reaction to his deliberately sensual toss of the head (perfected in the 70's, those Angels really had something) had not gone unnoticed. Caught up in his own daydreams involving Ianto, the stopwatch and a steaming shower, the haberdashery comment had taken him by surprise.
"What? Oh, right. No. No haberdashery tonight, Ianto Jones. We'll find out how good you are with a scalpel."
Inwardly Ianto smiled. It was good to see Jack flustered, off-balance. It somehow made him more human, less immortal saviour of the Earth. Now, all he had to do was keep him off-balance until they had chance to talk.
He picked up a scalpel from the tray laid out on a trolley beside the body and tossed it high into the air, catching it easily by the handle and twirling it between his fingers.
"I think you'll find I'm pretty spectacular," Ianto commented suavely.
"One of your hidden talents?" Jack raised his eyebrows at the spectacle. He was confused. The Ianto Jones in front of him, shamelessly flirting with him over a dead body, was not what he had been expecting on his return to the Hub. He'd been expecting dark sullen looks and the silent treatment. "Quite the man of mystery, aren't you?" he quipped. Whatever the reason for Ianto's lightening of mood, he wasn't about to question it.
"Takes one to know one," Ianto retorted with a fond smile. "Anyway, on the whole you approve of my hidden talents...sir?"
"Absolutely. And after you've done this autopsy I'll make it a point of approving of them again, in person, complete with audience participation." Jack's face suddenly grew serious. "But we need to talk first."
"I know," Ianto said quietly, "but Jack? Nothing you say is going to change the way I feel." He saw a flash of fear cross Jack's face, and he looked directly at him, his dark blue eyes locking with Jack's paler blue ones. "I'm in love with you. And that is all that really matters."
Breaking eye contact before Jack could react to his words, he lowered his eyes and put down the scalpel, replacing it with a pair of heavy duty scissors, and began to carefully and methodically cut away the sodden clothes from Old Joe's body.
On the walkway Jack stared at Ianto in shock, his emotions careering from dread to bewildered joy in a matter of moments. The need to kiss the young man was suddenly overwhelming. Impulsively he leapt over the metal railing, his heavy boots hitting the floor with a loud bang which stopped Ianto mid-cut. The scissors clattered to the floor as Jack grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him away from the metal table and pinning him against the wall, devouring his mouth in a passionate kiss, Jack's tongue pushing past Ianto's teeth to meet his in a fierce battle. Unbidden Ianto's hands burrowed underneath Jack's heavy coat, his hands feverishly pulling at the fabric beneath until the shirt came free, allowing him access to Jack's warm, faintly damp skin. One of Jack's hands lay flat against the cold tiled wall above their heads, supporting his weight whilst his other hand cupped Ianto's chin, tilting his head back to give him fuller access to his mouth. At the touch of Ianto's hands, he moaned softly, his sensitised skin welcoming the warm questing fingers. Hearing Jack's moan, Ianto smiled against his mouth, delighting in the response his touch was eliciting. Autopsy forgotten, he allowed his hand to drop lower, searching for the waistband of Jack's canvas trousers. As his fingers finally came to rest on the button, he felt Jack's hand cover his own and ease his fingers away. Gasping for breath, Jack tore his mouth away, allowing his head to rest on Ianto's shoulder. Panting, Ianto sagged against the wall, disappointment washing over him, in his chest the dull ache of rejection.
Before it could take hold, Jack turned his head and breathed raggedly into Ianto's ear,
"You drive me insane, Ianto Jones." He nuzzled Ianto's neck as he spoke. Ianto closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of Jack's lips against his neck, all thoughts of rejections fading into nothingness.
"I want you," Ianto murmured, the words slipping from him unbidden. He felt Jack's hold on him tighten.
"You took the words right out of my mouth," Jack said, chuckling softly, "but I'd much rather continue this somewhere more comfortable...and with fewer dead bodies."
Ianto's eyelids fluttered open in surprise as he suddenly remembered where they were and what he had been doing. At the thought that he had been quite willing, if not downright eager, to have mind-numbing sex only feet away from the body of Old Joe, he flushed beetroot red.
"Right. Yes. Good point." He pulled himself upright and away from the wall as he spoke, straightening his tie beneath the disposable plastic apron he had donned to protect his shirt and waistcoat. He caught sight of Jack's amused grin and felt himself turning an even deeper shade of red. Hurriedly he stooped down to retrieve the scissors.
"You look so cute when you're flustered," Jack commented with a snigger.
"You're the one who vaulted over the railing, Jack" Ianto said, standing up and waving the scissors at him threateningly, "and I'm the one in possession of the sharp scissors. I'd be more careful what you say." There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he spoke.
"What? I'm giving you a compliment!" Jack protested with a knowing grin. He followed it with a lascivious wink. "We'll continue this later..." He bounded up the stairs, back towards the Hub.
"You're just leaving me to do this alone?" Ianto called after him disbelievingly.
Jack halted on the top step and spun round, shrugging his shoulders apologetically, a soft smile of genuine regret playing about his full lips.
"I'm clearly too much of a distraction here. Besides, like you said, you have the sharp scissors and I've seen how you wield that scalpel. I think I'd be safer somewhere else."
"You better believe it, Harkness. Just remember, in the Hub no one can hear you scream." To Jack's surprise and delight, Ianto returned his wink.
"Promises, promises, Ianto Jones," Jack said grinning. "But there is Gwen, don't forget..."
"She knows us too well. She'll just turn the volume up on her iPod," Ianto commented as Jack vanished round the corner, his snort of laughter echoing across the Hub.
Ianto stood for a moment, a quite frankly dopey smile on his face, staring at the space vacated by Jack. Then with a cough he twirled the scissors in his fingers and returned to slicing Old Joe's clothes away from his body. After a moment he began to whistle softly under his breath. So far, so good. He'd told Jack how he felt and Jack hadn't thrown it back in his face. For the first time in many weeks he felt a surge of hope. He didn't even mind that there was no one to witness his first autopsy.
Gwen pulled open the battered, ill-fitting metal door of her locker and pulled out a spare long sleeved top and pair of jersey leggings she kept there for emergencies. It occurred to her that she was down to her final set of spare clothes. These were ones she'd never wanted to see the light of day, at least not a day when Jack was present, or any other living human being if it came to it. Weevil blood, alien slime, sewer water, body fluids. Not a day passed when she didn't find herself covered in one or other of them. She figured she was pretty lucky that this time at least it was just common or garden rainwater.
As she pulled up the drawstring pants over her unpleasantly damp underwear, she checked her watch. She'd given them an hour. That should have allowed Ianto plenty of time to finish the autopsy and hopefully given Jack the chance to at least start putting things right. Dragging a pair of tatty trainers from the floor of her locker, she slipped them on with a grimace. Hardly the height of fashion, they lacked the heels which leant her confidence in the job. Unfortunately the black heeled boots were currently drying out slowly on one of the many hot water pipes that ran through the Hub.
She stepped through into the open expanse of the central Hub, listening carefully. No shouting. That was a good sign. No sounds of heated passion though. Either they were being discrete or they hadn't progressed to the make-up sex phase of the conversation.
Suddenly she caught the indistinct sound of Ianto's voice emanating from the medical bay. Apparently the autopsy was still in progress. She padded towards the sound of Ianto's voice, her trainers making no noise on the concrete floor. She peered around the corner, half expecting to find both Jack and Ianto poring over the body. Instead she found Ianto alone, gloved hands splattered with blood, speaking into the suspended microphone hung just above his head. He was just removing what appeared to be a pair of lungs from a set of weighing scales when he looked up and noticed Gwen watching him.
"Oh, hello. Feeling better now?" he asked, his eyebrows raising only slightly as he took in her uber-casual, Sunday morning, cleaning-the-bathroom outfit.
"Drier at least." Gwen replied with a weary smile. "I could murder that hot chocolate though."
"Just give me one minute. I'm done here."
Ianto stepped away from the body and pulled the dangling flap of the body bag back up over what was left of Old Joe's torso and face. Then he pulled off the gloves and plastic apron, stuffing them deep into a yellow clinical waste bag, and crossed to the handwash sink where he turned on the hot water and began lathering soap up his arms. As Gwen watched, he methodically scrubbed every speck of blood from his forearms before drying them on a white paper towel. His every action was deliberate and measured.
"You'd have made a good medic, Ianto," Gwen commented. "The attention to detail, the meticulousness, the apparent indifference to blood. A really good doctor...or a copper."
Ianto looked up at her in surprise. "Dead bodies I can handle; gushing blood is a much deeper issue," he deadpanned, paraphrasing one of his favourite Eighties films from his childhood, a reference he was sure would go straight over Gwen's head.
"I think you'll find that was shame and death," Gwen corrected him casually. "Weird Science is one of Rhys' all-time favourite films." She caught his darting look of surprise and grinned. "Kelly Le-Brock in that leotard and those legwarmers, twirling her whistle. It's every teenage male fantasy. I didn't think it would be quite your thing..." She let the sentence hang.
"Just because I now choose Jack's braces over your high heels doesn't mean I didn't appreciate the imagery," Ianto retorted blithely.
"What about Jack in high heels?" Gwen uttered innocently.
Jack's voice cut in from behind her, his voice filled with amusement. "Tried them. They didn't do a thing for my calves, and they were murder to run in." Gwen flushed scarlet and Ianto gave a snort of laughter.
"Didn't you mention something about hot chocolate?" she muttered, her words stilted with embarrassment.
Before Ianto could reply Jack asked crisply,
"What did the autopsy show?"
"Patience, Jack!" Ianto admonished, looking Jack square in the eyes, daring Jack to interrupt him, "Gwen's cold and tired, I've just spent the last half hour up to my elbows in blood, and you look peaky..."
"I do not look peaky," Jack protested.
"Yes, you do, take it from me. Since according to Gwen I should be a doctor, or a copper, I must be right." He gave Gwen a brief smile of appreciation. "Look, let me get some coffee for us and hot chocolate for Gwen and I'll brief you both in the board room in ten minutes."
"When did you get so assertive?" Jack asked, laughing.
"The minute I realised you actually wanted me to brief you on the autopsy without the aid of a mug of my favourite industrial strength roast," Ianto said drily.
Ianto shoved open the door to the board room with one hand. carefully balancing the laden tray on the other, and stepped into the room. Jack and Gwen had already taken their respective chairs at the far end of the long table. Normally he would have taken the chair at Jack's right hand, the remaining empty chairs emphasising how few of them there were now. Today however, he circled the table and placed a frothy chocolate and cream confection in front of Gwen, which he noticed with amusement caused her eyes to light up appreciatively when she took in the marshmallows perched on the top. Putting a plain mug of coffee in front of Jack (accepted with a wink and a flash of the matinee idol smile), he took a seat at the opposite end of the table, close to the plasma touch-screen display on the wall.
He waited until Jack and Gwen had taken a sip of their drinks, nodding their approval, and smiled as he noticed the dab of cream adorning the end of Gwen's nose. He'd tell her later, after the briefing, he decided. But even before the thought had fully formed he saw Jack reach over and brush it off with a finger. Startled Gwen knocked his hand away and rubbed her nose self-consciously, looking at Ianto with an apologetic glance. Curiously, Ianto did not feel in the least bit perturbed by what he had just seen. Jack was just being Jack, and it was nice to see. And Gwen? Her actions today had proved to Ianto once and for all that she had finally accepted her choice and was no longer a threat to him in terms of Jack's affections. In fact, he thought with surprise, she might now be his strongest ally.
He became conscious that Gwen and Jack were looking at him curiously, and, in Jack's case, a little impatiently. He took a sip of the scalding coffee in front of him and rose, taking a position next to the plasma screen.
"Right then," he began, his touch bringing up a number of highly coloured images from the Bekeran deep tissue scanner. With a few deft touches he arranged the images across the screen and zoomed in on one until it filled almost the entire screen.
"How did you find your first autopsy then?" Jack asked before Ianto could continue, leaning back in his chair and resting his boots on the table, his coffee resting on his chest.
"Messy," Ianto admitted with a smile, "but surprisingly fun. I was surprised how much I remembered." He stopped abruptly, darting an uneasy glance at Jack as he recalled the reason for his detailed medical knowledge. Caring for Lisa, the necessity of being doctor and engineer in equal measure. That act of betrayal had wounded Jack deeply. The last thing he wanted was for that wound to be reopened, not now, when their relationship was so fragile already. Jack, catching his uneasy glance returned a brief reassuring smile, and motioned for Ianto to continue.
"Now then, as you can see the Bekeran scanner identified deep tissue radiation burns affecting not only the epidermal layers but also penetrating beyond the subcutaneous layers. When I took a closer look at the tissue and organs I sampled from Joe's chest cavity, I found severe tissue damage and extensive internal bleeding. But not from any kind of external physical trauma. His cells appear to have literally burst, causing massive fluid loss. To all intents and purposes, he went into hypovolemic shock and died in a matter of minutes. His brain...well, quite frankly it was mush, lacking any discernible structure. He would have been brain dead long before his body itself actually died." As he spoke Ianto flicked between several of the images on the screen, zooming in on each one and pointing out areas of interest.
At the description of the damage to the brain, he saw Gwen swallow and push her mug of chocolate away from her. It made a harsh grating sound as it slid across the wooden surface. Jack looked at the images with interest and Ianto could sense him assimilating all the information and storing it away for later reference. His capacity to retain information was staggering and Ianto had often wondered whether it was a side effect of his immortality. Perhaps some alteration to his brain chemistry, allowing him to retain information through death and into his next life.
"What can you tell me about the growths?" Jack asked after a moment.
"Those are a bit more tricky," Ianto confessed, bringing up some magnified images of the growths from Old Joe's and Katie Thompson's faces. At this increased resolution, the spider webs of red veins could clearly be seen extending beneath the dark brown and black pigmentation. "The Beckeran scanner identified the growths as malignant tumours. From the information I've been able to collate so far, the most likely candidates are that they are malignant cutaneous melanomas. The real issue is that there is no way they could have grown so fast naturally. Normally melanomas such as these, especially in such visible locations, would have been identified and excised before they could ever reach the size we see here. I don't imagine Old Joe had a GP, but I checked Katie Thompson's medical records. There was no mention of any growths at her last visit, which, by the way, was only three days ago."
"For anything relevant?" Jack enquired.
"Not unless you count an emergency consult to try and get the morning-after pill. She went away empty handed. Because she was a minor, the doctor was insisting that he would have to inform her mother."
Gwen scowled, pursing her lips angrily. "Sounds about right. God forbid anything should be done to prevent teenage pregnancies by actually helping a girl when she's realised she's just made the biggest mistake of her life." Jack looked sideways at her and raised one eyebrow in question. She shrugged. "Sorry. Not relevant to the events at hand. It just really pisses me off!"
"Anyway," Ianto continued, "we really need to speak to an expert on melanoma. I don't understand enough about the pathology of the disease to draw any meaningful conclusions. I've identified one, Professor Vivian Merchant. She has a research lab at the University, besides being one of the UK's leading consultant dermatologists."
"OK, Ianto, can you set up a meeting?"
"Already done, sir. We're meeting her at her lab tomorrow at one."
"Excellent."
Jack leaned back in his chair and took a long gulp of his coffee.
"Did the autopsy give us any more information about the radiation signature?"
"No, but I've got the computers analysing the data we pulled from the rift scanner and deep tissue scanner to see if we can pin down the source. At first glance, there isn't anything obviously non-terrestrial, but no terrestrial forms of radiation could cause this amount of damage, this quickly, without destroying the area around the body as well." Ianto brought up a trace depicting detected radiation wavelengths. Even to Gwen's untutored eye there were no significant spikes, just the usual hedgehog of low level radiation emitted from the rocks on which Penarth stood and slightly higher levels from the atmosphere, quite consistent with a sunny day by the sea. As he finished speaking, Ianto sat down in the nearest chair and leaned back, catching up his own mug of coffee and draining the contents in a single mouthful.
"Right," Jack said sitting up, his feet returning to the floor with a thud. "Excellent work, Mr Jones. I can't see what more we can do until we get the computer analysis of the radiation signatures. Any idea how long that will take?" He looked at Ianto expectantly.
Ianto couldn't tell whether he was hoping for a short delay, or an extended period. One in which they could pursue their promised agenda. In hope of the latter he replied casually,
"Not really. A couple of hours at least, I should think. Maybe even the morning." He wasn't lying. He didn't know how long the computer would take, but saying the morning was probably stretching the truth a bit thin. He looked covertly at Jack, to see if he would buy it.
"Morning sounds good." Jack caught Ianto's eye and winked. "I think we should all go home and get a good night's sleep. Look at it with a fresh pair of eyes tomorrow. Back here at seven?" He looked across at Gwen.
"You're not going to get any argument from me," she commented, waving tiredly at him. "There's still that sofa and a glass of red with my name on it, remember! I'll see you in the morning."
"Keep your mobile on," Jack commented, as she got to her feet and prepared to leave.
Gwen turned and gave him a disbelieving look. "I've worked here awhile now, Jack. I think I know the drill."
Jack grinned. "You are so easy to wind up, Gwen Cooper. By the way, love the new look...grunge-chic?"
"Piss off, Harkness!" she retorted amiably. "Ianto, I expect you to make him pay..." As she passed Ianto, looking at her with a somewhat dumbstruck expression on his face, she leant down and whispered, so that only Ianto could hear,
"Give him a chance to explain. He's scared you won't listen to him."
Jack and Ianto sat silently in the boardroom, listening to the noise of Gwen moving about in the Hub below, collecting her things. After several minutes they heard the cog-wheel door roll open and shut so that the only sounds were the faint hum of the computer workstations and the occasional clank from the water pipes. Even Myfanwy was silent, roosting in her nest high above the basin. The storm had passed and the night was now still and quiet. The silence grew, not uncomfortably but with a heady sense of anticipation. They looked at each other, their eyes finally locked, filling the silence with unspoken messages.
"So now we talk," Jack said finally. His words, though soft, cut through the stillness like a gunshot. His expression was serious, his eyes intense.
"Now we talk," Ianto agreed with relief, the breath he'd been holding since Jack's eyes had seized his released in a long, deep sigh.
