A/N: Wow. You guys have really no idea how surprised I was this Tuesday morning as I logged in on my fanfiction account and saw that I had gotten over 17 reviews during the time I was sleeping. I'm really, really happy that you all seem to like this story, and I'm doing my best to keep it interesting for you. Love you all. Here's some cookies. *Hands over the cookies.*

Anyway, now that I've written this chapter, I notice that it's definitely not one of my best ones. Oh, well. Reviews are still welcome. Reviews make my day and affect up my muse in a good way.

Huge thanks to Kausingkayn for beta reading this chapter! She's amazing.

Disclaimer: Torchwood belongs to BBC.

Chapter 3: When life gives you lemons...

Ianto Jones wasn't a stupid man. He knew that he couldn't just waltz into his boss's office and go: "Hello, Jack. I love you. Oh, and did I mention that I'm hiding my half converted cyberman girlfriend in your cellar?"

Ianto Jones also knew that he had to tell Jack about Lisa in some way, and as soon as possible. He also knew, that the Lisa Ianto had once know was dead, like she had been dead to him for years already. That wasn't really his biggest problem. The real problem was what to do with her. He knew that he couldn't just brutally kill her, as she still looked like Lisa, and Ianto Jones didn't have a habit of killing people that looked just like his dead girlfriend.

'Jack wouldn't have that problem,' he thought as he saw the man in question walking back towards his office after retconning Gwen. Jack had earlier contacted Ianto through the comms, and asked him to check if Gwen tried to write anything down to her computer. Just like Ianto had remembered, she did try. But as soon as she had stopped writing, Ianto did a bit of computer hacking (thought it really shouldn't be called hacking as he used official Torchwood software to do it) and removed the file, tilting Gwen's computer in the progress.

He yawned. The day had been mentally tiring, and he still hadn't really figured out whether he had actually travelled back in time, or if he had just had a huge prophetic dream about the future. As he thought about it, he couldn't really choose which one he preferred. Prophetic dreams probably weren't very usual for people that could still walk outside without the white jackets chasing after them. But he couldn't really abandon the option either. He would probably never know which one was the right option, especially if the rift had anything to do with this.

"Well, did she try to saving anything?" Jack's voice, coming straight behind him, startled Ianto out of his thoughts. He looked up to notice that his boss had been sneaking and was now standing right behind him. Jack was so close that Ianto could smell his 51st century pheromones.

"Yes, sir. You were right, as usual," Ianto said, swallowing and turning back to his computer. God. Maybe he should look like he's busy? He wasn't ready to start another conversation with this Jack yet.

"She tried to write things down about Torchwood and the team, so I deleted it. Might have also tilted her computer," he said thoughtfully, and he could feel Jack's eyes boring to the back of his head.

"Ianto, about this morning..." Jack started, hesitating, "Why did you ask about today's date?"

Ianto could feel his shoulders tensing involuntarily, and knew that it wouldn't escape Jack's notice either.

"I..." he swallowed again, hoping that Jack would buy his hasty lie, "I had a bit of a rough evening last night."

Jack laughed abruptly and loudly, relief clear in his voice, making Ianto flinch in surprise. "Good to know," he said, patting Ianto on his shoulder faintly. The tiniest contact made Ianto suddenly have the urge to turn around, hug him and bury his head desperately into Jack's chest. But he resisted the urge, and instead just stayed frozen in his place.

"And here I was thinking that maybe you had accidentally done some time traveling and became your own grandfather or something," Jack chuckled, smirking. Ianto turned his chair to look at him with a steady expression.

"Is that experience speaking, sir?" Ianto couldn't really help but let a little grin appear on his tired face.

"Why, you cheeky Welshman!" Jack exclaimed, trying his best to look insulted. "Just so you know, this kind of perfection couldn't be explained by simple time travel."

"Just call me Tiger Pants," Ianto remarked nonchalantly, and only after a brief silence noticed his mistake. It had been so easy to slip into his old pattern of the flirty bantering with Jack, that he had forgotten that this wasn't his Jack. He blushed, too embarrassed to even try to explain his choice of wording.

"Wow, Tiger Pants, where did that come from?" Jack said raising his eyebrows, clearly enjoying the name and testing it on his tongue. He was also grinning and looking at Ianto suggestively.

Ianto just mumbled something akin to: "Forget I ever said that."

"That's actually a very nice name, Tiger Pants." Ianto's left eye twitched.

"I'm surprised that I didn't think of calling you that before," the captain continued, the grin clear in his voice as he walked away, still chuckling. Ianto couldn't move.

"Oh, and Tiger Pants!" He heard Jack call from his office a minute later. "Bring be my coffee."

Later the same evening Ianto was making his final round of coffee serving. The only ones still inside the Hub at the time – if not counting himself – were Toshiko and Jack. As usual, Ianto decided to serve Toshiko first. She was sitting before her computer, staring at it almost blankly. She was writing down something that looked pretty important and too much like equations for Ianto to take any real interest in them.

"Ah, thank you," Tosh said quietly, looking up as Ianto handed her a cup of coffee.

"No problem, you looked like you needed one," Ianto muttered and turned to walk away, uncomfortable with the old Tosh who didn't really know him yet. He knew that he should try to befriend her just like in his... vision of the future, but right now he couldn't even look at her without thinking that she had risen from the dead like Owen.

"Wait, Ianto!" He heard Tosh exclaim, and turned around, automatically raising his left eyebrow like a good butler.

"You forgot to take these back muffins back," Toshiko said, handing Ianto's breakfast bag to him and smiling gently at his confused expression.

"Oh." He had forgotten about those. Ianto took it hesitantly with his free hand. He wasn't really hungry. He tucked the muffins under his arm and walked towards Jack's office. Well, he guessed he could always give some of them to Jack. He might be hungry. After all, Jack had (surprisingly) been doing paper work the whole evening.

Or, at least that's what he had thought until he walked into Jack's office, only to find Jack asleep in his chair. Jack's head was burrowed between his arms and he looked tired. Ianto stopped at the doorway and stared at him. In that moment, Jack almost looked like his Jack. Almost.

"I can feel you watching me," Jack muttered sleepily after a few minutes, making Ianto smile gently at him.

"You looked like you were asleep, sir."

"I was," he said, looking up from the slouched position and smirking tiredly. "The delicious scent of coffee woke me up." Ianto couldn't do anything but to answer with a smile. He walked before Jack, who slowly resumed his upright position amd stretched his arms. Ianto offered him a cup of coffee, which he took.

"Hmmm," Jack hummed, sipping it slowly and clearly enjoying it. "This is good."

Ianto fought back a smile, and opened up the bag of muffins, offering a chocolate one to Jack. "Fancy a muffin, sir?"

Jack took another sip of his coffee and raised his eyebrows at him. "And you just happened to have a bundle of muffins with you?" he asked, amusement clear in his voice. But he took one anyway.

Ianto resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Bought them for breakfast this morning but forgot to eat them, sir. I only remembered them just a moment ago as Tosh reminded me," he explained.

Jack nodded in understanding, taking a experimental bite out of it. "This is good," he said, mouth full and voice full of surprise, as if he was expecting to bite into simply an adequate muffin.

"Well, sir, they make very good muffins," Ianto answered as if it was obvious. He took a bite of one himself. Mmh, lemon.

"As you make very good coffee, Tiger Pants," Jack smirked. Ianto scowled at him.

"You're never going to let me live that down, sir, are you?"

"Never."

Ianto hid a longing smile as he gazed at his boss, who was wolfing down the muffin eagerly. It seemed that Jack was always Jack, no matter which timeline he belonged to.