Here's part 2. This is a lot longer then I thought it would be… I'm glad you guys like it, though. I just basically wanted to rant about how awesome Ianto is. sigh

Unrelated note: my computer has decided to be absolutely retarded and not let the reply thingamajiggy work so if you sent me a PM and didn't get a reply, that's why. I'm sorry! I'll try to fix it … or find some other way to contact you…

Disclaimer: For me, writing is like watermelons. Watermelons cannot die. They are just there.

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"Gwen was berating my lack of appreciation for the teaboy's talents. Which is completely unfair. I have a lot of respect for that coffee."

"Not to mention the dry cleaning."

"And feeding the pterodactyl."

"Is it weird that I miss him already?"

"No, Tosh."

"Yes it is!"

"Shuttup, Owen."

"Yeah, well… it's just nice to have someone around who understands me."


The first time Tosh caught Ianto completing a piece of work she had left running she was surprised, but didn't think much of it. The second time he did it, this time running several of her tasks without missing a beat, she started to get suspicious.

"That was pretty neat work there. For a junior researcher."

Ianto started, and then gave her a wide eyed, worried smile. He really was very nervous.

"Sorry. I thought you'd left… I was just finishing up. It wasn't that complicated – up in London they're so paranoid you need a couple of dozen passwords just to get to your payslip. You learn to adapt. I've probably used the programs before anyway. Research in Torchwood…well, you know."

She did know... but since the programs were her own handmade ones it was unlikely he'd ever seen anything resembling them before, and curiosity flourished. She didn't have access to his file, true, but she was reasonably certain there was nothing stopping her getting to his recruitment papers. She had salvaged the records of Torchwood One; she had things in her hard drive Jack didn't know about, things no one was supposed to know about. Personnel records wouldn't be a problem.

As soon as he left she practically jumped at her computer. It only took a few minutes to extract the file, though the lack of cross-referenced indexing meant she had to manually scroll through the entire list of Jones' – quite a few, unsurprisingly. Finally she arrived at 'Ianto', and opened it. A quick look through negated her suspicion. He really had just been a researcher – a receptionist, really. She scrolled down further. No indication of extra projects, special assignments…the only thing out of place was the little blue and white icon at the bottom…

Tosh felt her blood run cold. She knew that little icon. She'd seen it before, many times. Nearly every military and government organisation had it, or a variation of it. It was a warning, denoting an individual who had a possibly psychologically damaging past; occasionally domestic violence, most commonly sexual abuse. She was so horrified she never noticed the door to the Hub sliding open.

"Tosh, I forgot to ask you -"

Somehow Tosh knew it was too late, and she didn't even try to exit out. Ianto froze, eyes fixed on the screen. And the cursor blinking just on top of that damned blue and white icon. She could imagine what he was thinking – now she knew what to look for there was nothing he could do to stop her getting the details. After what seemed an eternity he spoke, in a small, almost lost voice.

"It's not in my file. I took it out. Please… please don't tell Jack."

Tosh nodded, stumbling over her own tongue to apologise. She, of all people, should have known not to do this.

"I'm so sorry, Ianto. So sorry. I won't tell anyone, I promise. You have a right to your privacy. Especially… especially about that."

"You'll find it in most of those files. Up in London they like the broken ones. The ones who… won't be missed."

Tosh thought about heavy doors, cold dark rooms and orange jumpsuits, sirens and then, out of nowhere, Jack.

"They do something similar here."

Ianto shared a look with her, conveying an understanding, a mutual need for privacy. For a while both were silent.

"Would you like to grab something to eat, Ianto? Before you go home?"

"Yes. I…Thank you, Tosh."

They ended up having fish and chips, that being the only option at two in the morning. They ate in companionable silence, the first of many shared late night meals. She never asked him about what she'd seen. He never asked her about what she'd said. They didn't need to. They both understood the importance of discretion.


Gwen gave Tosh a curious look. The quiet queen of the computers blushed, and quickly changed the tone.

"I mean… who understands what I'm talking about. You all call it geeky gibberish… just because you're ignorant."

"Hey!"

"Face it, Tosh. No one understands what you talk about. Ever."

"Ianto does. He knew how to depressurize and refragment the copro-seismic dynogenerator, even after the third decryption firewall was down, and -"

"Will you two just SHUT UP? I do not want to hear about how wonderful Ianto is. I am not part of his little fan club. And I still don't have any coffee, which is making me twitchy."

"He takes care of all the phone calls, too."

"ARRRGHH! SHUT UP!"

"Phone calls?"

"Yeah, you know, the official stuff. The army, UNIT… all that stuff."

"I thought that was Jack's job."

Gwen sniggered.

"It used to be…"


There was no discussion, no particular moment when the decision was made. After Jack left, Gwen slowly started to take his place, the change happening so naturally that even she didn't notice until it was too late. She found the situation almost ridiculous. After all, she was the newest recruit, the one who knew least about Torchwood.

She needn't have worried, though – despite their seniority on paper, Tosh and Owen had no interest in playing Captain. They far preferred to dominate in their specific fields. As for Ianto… to her eternal shame she never really considered him, so perfectly did he fit the role of silently efficient aide. It was exactly one week after Jack left that Gwen realised she couldn't do it without Ianto…and all because of a phone call.

She was searching through Jack's office when the phone rang. This was rare enough in itself. They all avoided Jack's office. Nobody touched anything. But sometimes they needed something – a piece of paper, an artefact – that lay in there, untouched since Jack left. Today it was a small black box that had fallen through the rifts months ago that may or may not be the missing piece in Tosh's latest project, and Tosh was certain Jack had had it last. She hesitated, then took the call.

"Hello?"

"You're not… where is Captain Harkness? Hurry up, woman. This is UNIT. I am General Bridges, the Commander of Military Intelligence and I will not be kept waiting!"

"Uh…I…hang on –"

Shit! Who was he? What the hell was UNIT? Ianto must have seen the look on her face through the glass of the door, because within seconds he was standing beside her, a raised eyebrow indicating a silent question and concern in his eyes. Gwen held the phone slightly away from her, staring at it as if it were about to explode, and mouthed the words 'General of UNIT', then for good measure added 'What the fuck?'. She fought down panic – nymphomaniac gas-creatures and weevils were one thing, but how was she going to talk to a General?

Inexplicably, Ianto seemed to relax at this. Gwen glared at him. Stupid unshakeable teaboy. He never had to deal with this stuff. A tiny twitch of the lips, a smile quickly hidden…then Ianto had taken the phone from her and was lifting it to his mouth. When he spoke, his tone was perfectly modulated without a hint of nervousness, just the right balance between self-assured and submissive.

"Ianto Jones, General Support for Torchwood Cardiff. How may I be of assistance, Sir? No, I'm afraid Captain Jack is unavailable. If you require anything I will do my best… no, I'm afraid that is classified. Yes, I know who you are… I'm sure you can. But that does not change the fact – ah. How many people? I understand. I'll see what I can do…"

Gwen left him at it. The next day, she went into Jack's office and unplugged the phone, wordlessly taking it and placing it on Ianto's desk. The young Welshman didn't speak, but nodded with an almost imperceptible smile. On impulse, Gwen hugged him fiercely before blushing and fleeing back to work. Tosh watched the silent exchange with a smile, Owen with curiosity.

When Jack returned, desks and phones were hurriedly reshuffled, everything put back the way it had been. He charmed his way back into their lives without a hitch. Until the phone rang. As soon as she heard the tone Gwen started grinning. There was a short muffled conversation, and then Jack emerged with an expression of utter bemusement.

"Ianto?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Why did the Prime Minister just scream at me that she refuses to talk to anyone but you?"


"… but while he was gone Ianto took over so I wouldn't have to do it. Now they only want Ianto on the line. After all, can you imagine the Prime Minister trying to deal with Jack? He's on first name terms with most of them. Besides… he's the only one who could explain away the temporary loan of a fighter jet, bowling alley, two trucks of Cadbury's and several footmen to the Queen."

For a moment all three of them bathed in the memory of Jack's ill-fated attempt at a group bonding session. Predictably, Owen broke the silence.

"Well that's just bloody typical, isn't it? I can barely get entry into clubs and the bloody teaboy has the bloody Prime Minister and the goddamned palace on speed dial."

"Oh, give it a rest with the 'teaboy'. We've just spent the last hour discussing how inaccurate that description is…"

Tosh nodded her agreement. Owen opened his mouth as if to reply, but then leaned back in his chair with a smug expression.

"I can think of one more thing Ianto does around here. Something he deserves a hell of a pay rise for."

"What?"

Tosh looked innocently curious, but Gwen had a sneaking suspicion she knew what he was going to say.


Ianto Jones had always understood his terms of employment – it hadn't been the weevil, or the pterodactyl that had got him the job. It had been the almost-kiss, the moment where their bodies pressed together, faces only a fraction of a centimetre apart, lips just missing each other. He knew that, and if fucking the boss was what it took, then so be it. But the moment never came… Jack never demanded what Ianto was, for Lisa, willing to give.

The first time he slept with Jack it was about giving him comfort. He had seen the pain, the loneliness in Jack's face as he replaced Suzie's body with the countless others he must have had to say goodbye to. He could not feel anger towards someone who sacrificed so much. After all that Jack had given him, all the forgiveness and trust, Ianto had just wanted to give something back. So he offered comfort the only way Jack really understood… he propositioned him with a stopwatch.

Somewhere along the line gratitude became love. He wasn't quite sure when – the physical attraction had always been there, on both sides – but he suddenly needed Jack in a way he couldn't explain or understand. He was sure that they had was more than just sex, but he never, ever expected Jack to love him back. It was ridiculous to even consider it. It was selfish to ask Jack to invest emotionally in someone who would only live for what, to him, was the blink of an eye. It was enough to love him, to be there for him when the loneliness became too much to handle alone. He was content with what Jack was able to give, the way that he could make Ianto feel, if only for a moment, worth something. He understood it couldn't last.

And yet, it did last. It survived Jack's departure, and it survived his return. When Jack came back he never said where he had been, but something had changed. Jack stayed the night now, and tried so hard to do things properly, the "21st century way". Almost like love. Ianto had no idea why, and one morning as they lay together in his bed, Jack whispering affectionate nothings in his ear, the need to know overwhelmed him.

"What happened, Jack? What changed? Why… why waste your time on me?"

There was no misunderstanding the question. Jack froze, and then turned away. Were those… tears? Jack so hated anyone seeing him vulnerable. Ianto suddenly wished he hadn't spoken. He wanted to go back to the moment before, when Jack had been happy. Why had he gone and spoiled it?

"I'm sorry. It's none of my business."

Jack stiffened, then pulled Ianto close, still not looking at him.

"No, I want to tell you. It's just… difficult. So many things - you died, Yan. I lost you. I only realised how much you mean to me when I lost you." Jack hesitated, and finally their eyes met. "I'm the one who should be sorry. You aren't a waste of time, Yan. You're anything but. I'm sorry I ever let you think that."

"Jack…you never have to say sorry to me. No matter what."

The first time he slept with Jack it was about giving him comfort. Sometimes, it still was. Of course, it was also about lust, and fun, and the creative use of stopwatches and jellybeans and Gwen's old handcuffs. Occasionally it was to convince Jack that it really was worth his while to be polite to the Minister of Defence for just one day. Usually, though, it was about the need to belong to someone, completely and utterly. If that wasn't love, Ianto decided, it was close enough.


"Well, Owen? What is it?"

"Can't guess, Tosh?"

"Owen, if this is what I think it is…"

"Maybe it is, Gwen. Personally I think it's obvious. He shags the boss on a pretty regular basis…no wonder Jack took him up there…I'd bet you anything he's bent over a conference desk right about now-"

"OWEN!"

Two mugs smashed against the wall in exactly the place Owen's head had been a few moments previously. Laughing maniacally, he ran for it, the two girls hot in pursuit. He was going to pay for that… but it had been worth it.

Now all he had to do was remember to delete the CCTV footage of that little comment, or there would be no coffee for a month.

And that was a fate truly worse than death.

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