CHAPTER EIGHT
Ianto was bored. No, scrap that – he was so bored that even listening to Gwen talking about her honeymoon (in detail) would be a welcome distraction.
The door opened, and Jack walked in, Tesco bag in hand. "Hey there," he said with a gentle grin. "How're you doing?"
"Bored." Ianto stifled a yawn. "What've you got there?"
"Food!" Jack announced. "Bread rolls, ham, apples—"
"Please don't tell me you brought grapes," Ianto groaned.
Jack raised an eyebrow, sitting down on the chair next to Ianto's bed and dumping the plastic carrier bag. "What's wrong with grapes?"
"Nothing, other than the fact that's all everybody seems to bring." Ianto considered for a moment. "Other than the Doctor."
"Why, what did he bring?" Jack seemed amused.
"Bananas."
"How did I guess?" Jack chuckled.
"That man has got a worrying obsession with bananas," Ianto told him seriously. "If it was anybody else, I'd suggest counselling."
Jack just laughed again. Ianto smiled to hear him laughing; there had been far too little of that recently.
"But, really, how are you?" Jack asked him soberly, once he had finished laughing.
Ianto looked away. "Fine." He fingered the blanket draped across his lap. "When can I leave?"
Jack's face tightened. "Not for a while yet," he replied. "In the meantime, can I tempt you with some of this delicious food?"
"Not hungry."
Jack shrugged and bit into an apple. "You sure? You haven't eaten today."
"I'm fine."
Jack paused in the middle of taking a bite, sticky juice dribbling down his chin. "Ianto…" he sighed.
Ianto looked away. "Really, Jack. I just hate being stuck here."
Jack put down the apple on the bedside table and wiped his chin. He opened his arms invitingly. "C'mere."
"Am I allowed…?"
"Sure. Just this once won't hurt you." Jack smiled as Ianto pushed back the covers and slipped from the hospital bed. He felt a slight pang as he noted how the gown hung from Ianto's slight frame, his wrists thin and the bags under his eyes bestowing on him a similarity to a panda.
Ianto settled onto his lap with a happy sigh, tucking his nose behind Jack's ear like he had taken to doing recently.
Jack tightened his arms around the younger Welshman, careful of his broken arm. He was unpleasantly surprised by the lightness of his lover. "Your sister called," he said.
Ianto tensed. "Oh?"
"She wants you to go back home and stay with her." Jack ran his fingers through Ianto's hair. It had been washed that morning and was still slightly damp, curls sticking to the back of his neck. "I said that I'd let you decide."
Ianto was quiet for a moment, before pulling back and looking Jack earnestly in the face. "What do you think?"
Jack blinked, taken aback. "It's your choice. She is your family – I won't be upset if you want to stay with her."
Ianto grinned. "Yes, you would be," he said, kissing Jack on the nose. "You'd sulk for days, because you don't like to even think of the possibility that your care might be anything other than exactly what I need."
And expression of concern crossed Jack's face. "It is what you need, right?" he asked anxiously. "I'm not doing anything wrong—"
Ianto silenced him with a finger pressed gently to his lips. "You're doing fine," he reassured him. "Really. I couldn't ask for anything more."
Jack looked slightly relieved. "That's good. But what do you want to do about your sister?"
"Rhiannon will want to mother me," Ianto said with his customary eyeroll, "and she'll try to stuff me with food."
Jack grinned. "So that's a no?"
Ianto looked away. "I…I don't want to stay here."
Jack swallowed. "Okay, then. So what are you suggesting?"
"I want to go home, Jack," Ianto said, hating the plaintive tone in his voice. "If I'm going to die again, I want to at least do it in my own bed."
"Don't speak like that," Jack said, stroking Ianto's cheek gently. "We'll find something."
"Don't make any promises you can't keep," Ianto retorted, turning over Jack's hand with his good arm, and kissing the palm. "I don't mind. Honestly."
"I do."
Ianto bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Jack."
"You've got nothing to be sorry for," Jack said softly, eyes sad. "But I'll have to see about going home. We need to finish this mission first, deal with these aliens."
Ianto sat up a bit straighter. "How's that going?" he asked, his boredom morphing into a burning curiosity for any new news.
Jack shrugged. "Okay, I guess. It's taking a lot longer than we expected, as the signals keep on switching between two different locations."
"Why don't you check both of them?"
"Whoah, I never thought of that," Jack joked. "The problem is that both the sites are only reachable with a submarine or a professional diver."
"Neither of which we have," Ianto said.
"Nope."
Ianto sighed, his breath tickling the back of Jack's neck. "So there's nothing we can do."
"Hey – with a dashing hero like me on the case, how can we fail?" Jack teased, trying vainly to lighten the mood.
Ianto snorted. "You keep on telling yourself that," he replied.
"Are you being rude about me?"
"Of course not – why would I do that?" Ianto widened his eyes innocently.
"Cheek!" Jack laughed, twisting his head awkwardly to kiss him. Ianto's good hand came up to cradle Jack's face, and he sighed into the kiss.
They sat there like that for a few more minutes, lazily exchanging kisses and simply enjoying the other. Then Jack's mobile rang, buzzing in his pocket.
Ianto raised an eyebrow, to which Jack replied with a smirk before digging it out and answering, "Yeah?"
Ianto recognised the face Jack now wore; it was the 'Captain' face, the one he wore when he had to get down to business. He slid off Jack's lap and crawled back under the covers of the hospital bed. Jack stood up too, and absent-mindedly tucked Ianto in and dropped a kiss on his forehead before heading out the door, still talking earnestly on his phone.
The room was strangely hollow and empty after Jack left. It always was, whenever the captain had to go, leaving Ianto alone in the small white room.
Gwen had brought in some flowers the other day, a large and colourful bunch of tulips that sat on the table by Ianto's bed. The colour was a welcome change from the monotonous, clinical white of the walls, the ceiling, the floor, the pillows, the sheets…
Ianto sighed and flopped back onto the pillows. He stared up at the ceiling, mentally counting away the seconds until the nurses came in with his next meal.
His next meal. For all he knew, it could well be his last.
And then, lying in the hospital bed which would may turn out to be his death bed, Ianto Jones realised that his life was about to end. And, this time, it would be for good.
-T-
"What do you mean, 'there's a massive shoal of fish in the marina'?" Jack demanded, getting up from where he was seated on the edge of Ianto's bed.
Martha rolled her eyes, closing the door behind her. "I mean exactly that. The marina is jam-packed full of fish."
"What sort of fish?" Ianto asked curiously, leaning forward in his bed.
"Fish fish." Martha shrugged. "I dunno. I'm not exactly a fish expert."
"What are the harbourmasters doing?" Jack pressed.
"They're trying to—" Martha was interrupted by a bleep from her mobile. She read the text, her eyebrows jumping up her forehead in surprise. "Owen says that the fish have started biting people."
"'Biting people'?" Ianto echoed. "That hardly sounds like normal fish behaviour to me."
"Unless they're piranhas," Jack said. "Are they piranhas?"
"Not that I know of," Martha said. "They look like normal, silvery brown fish."
Jack grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. "Okay, then," he said, "lets get moving."
"What about me?" Ianto's eyes were dark in his white face.
Jack blinked. "What do you mean? You're staying here."
"Can't I come with you?"
"Ianto—"
"Please, Jack. I haven't been outside for nine days now."
"No. What if something happened?" Jack bent down and kissed him on the forehead. "I'm not going to risk it."
"Jack!"
"No, Ianto. Maybe tomorrow, if the nurses give you the all-clear."
"Jack, please," Ianto begged. "You don't know what it's like to be stuck in here twenty-four-seven."
"I said no," an edge of impatience crept into Jack's voice.
"You can't tell me what to do!"
"Actually, I can – I'm your boss, in case you'd forgotten," Jack said angrily, his temper flaring.
"So I'm off-duty but I still have to do what you say?"
"Yes."
"How is that fair?"
Jack glared at him, eyes chips of ice. "It isn't. Life isn't fair. Don't you think I know that better than anyone else?"
"Oh, because you've gone through far more than any of the rest of us, despite the fact that I'm the one dy—"
"You have no idea what I've been through," Jack said through clenched teeth.
Ianto laughed, a hysterical note to it. "No, because you never tell me anything! It's all: Oh, you wouldn't understand, you're just the tea-boy—"
"When have I ever said you were just the tea-boy?" Jack demanded, taking a step forward. His fists were clenched, his jaw tight with anger.
"When d'you think?" Ianto asked sarcastically.
"We've talked about that—"
"And it doesn't seem to have made a difference!"
"It has made a dif—"
"No, it hasn't!" Ianto snapped. "Even now, it's always: Ianto, get me this! Ianto, get me that! Ianto, I need a fuck—"
"Listen to me—"
"Yes, it's all about you, isn't it?" Ianto retorted. "Captain Jack Harkness, defender of the Earth—"
"Do you think I chose to be who I am?" Jack asked incredulously. "Do you think I like watching everybody I love die? Do you think I enjoy dying repetitively, in the hope that this time it might be for good?"
"It's not my fault – blame your precious Doctor!" Ianto yelled, face red with anger.
Jack froze, and Ianto knew that he had crossed a line by dragging the Doctor into it. "You're not coming. And that's final."
Ianto regarded Jack bitterly. "Fine. But don't come back here afterwards."
"Wh— Of course I'm coming back here," Jack spluttered.
"Hurry up and get out," Ianto said, "sir." He curled his lips around the last word, as if it tasted bad.
"Ianto—"
"Get out."
"Fine," Jack spat, stalking out the room like an affronted cat.
Ianto flopped back against the pillows, angry tears filling his eyes. "Bastard."
Martha looked at him with a knowing glint in her eye. "Don't give him a too hard time," she said. "He just wants to look after you."
"I'm not a child," Ianto said, expression sour. "I can look after myself."
"Oh yeah, you can look after yourself so well that you die once, try to kill yourself a second time, and get leukaemia."
"The leukaemia wasn't my fault!" Ianto protested.
"I know that. But you still couldn't stop it happening," Martha said. "Jack lost you once, Ianto. You can't really blame him for wanting to keep you around for as long as possible."
"I'm the one that's going to die," Ianto said, "not Jack. I should get the choice about what risks I take."
"Maybe that's so," Martha replied calmly, "but Jack's suffering as much as you are, don't forget. He's the one that has to watch somebody he loves slowly dying in front of him, and he can't do anything to stop it."
"He'll move on," Ianto said quietly. "He'll forget about me in the end."
"That won't happen and you know it," Martha said sharply. "Jack doesn't forget the people he loves."
Ianto closed his eyes tiredly, letting out a long sigh. "Maybe. But he'll love again. This won't keep him down." He smiled wryly. "Nothing keeps him down."
"Ianto."
"Yeah?"
"Jack isn't infallible, you know. He has his weaknesses," Martha smiled, "and, at the moment, that weakness is you."
Ianto looked at her for a moment, eyes unreadable. "Maybe you'd better go and help out with the fish," he said finally.
"Yeah," Martha agreed. "Just think about what I said, yeah?"
"I will," Ianto said, "and Martha?"
"Yeah?"
"Thankyou." Ianto offered her a soft smile.
"You're welcome. See you later." Martha closed the door behind her, leaving him alone once more.
-T-
"Ianto?" Jack whispered, quiet in the darkened room.
"Jack?" Ianto asked, voice groggy with sleep. "What're you doing here?"
"I…I wanted to say sorry. About earlier." Jack swallowed. "I shouldn't have treated you like that." He paused. "Can I sit down?"
Ianto reached out and turned on the bedside light; the small room instantly took on a warm, intimate atmosphere. He patted the bed. "Sit here."
"I—"
"Please."
Jack perched awkwardly on the edge of the bed, uncertain of where this was going. "Ianto…"
Ianto reached out and took Jack's hand, lacing their fingers together loosely. "I know. And I'm sorry, too."
Jack looked down at their linked fingers, surprised. "I thought you were mad at me?"
Ianto chuckled. "Not anymore."
Jack kept quiet for a minute. "So I don't have to grovel, then?"
Ianto grinned, eyes dancing. Jack loved that mischievous grin and blue-eyed sparkle. "Well…"
Jack laughed softly, keeping his voice low as to not burst the bubble of comfort they seemed to be in at the moment. It was too special to break. "May I ask what changed your mind?"
"Martha," Ianto replied simply.
Jack nodded. He wet his lips, unsure of how to say what he wanted to.
"Will you stay tonight?" Ianto's voice was small, uncertain. He looked vulnerable against the stark white bedsheets, his good hand frail and grey where it held Jack's close. Jack felt that, if he squeezed too tight, the bones would snap and break, like brittle sticks of dry spaghetti.
"You want me to stay?"
"Yeah."
"Then I will." Jack smiled, attempting to swallow down the last shreds of sadness.
Ianto sat up, propping himself up with pillows. "Are you okay?"
Typical Ianto: caring about everybody else above himself.
Jack let out a shaky breath. "No," he admitted.
Ianto squeezed his hand, though Jack could feel the weakness in his grasp. "What happened?"
Jack shook his head. "I…I don't know how to say it."
"Then just say it as it comes," Ianto suggested.
Jack looked away, choosing to stare at the doorknob. "They want you to start chemotherapy."
"Isn't that good?" Ianto asked, confused. "That's a cure."
"There's only a fifteen-percent chance of you making it," Jack said softly, not meeting Ianto's eyes: he feared what he might see there. Anger? Disappointment? Sadness?
"What if I don't start it?" Ianto's voice was impossible to read.
"Then you'll die," Jack said, hating the matter-of-fact way it sounded. "Though it'll take longer."
"How long?"
"They're guessing at a couple of months. Half a year, tops."
Ianto was quiet. Jack risked a quick glance at him, and was confused at the smile he saw there. "What are you smiling about?"
"I was just thinking … I'm the first Torchwood agent to die of leukaemia." Ianto chuckled humourlessly. "Not exactly the way I expected to go."
Impulsively, Jack grabbed him into a tight hug. "I'm sorry, Ianto."
"You've got nothing to be sorry about," Ianto told him. His breath tickled the back of Jack's neck, sending pleasant little shivers down his spine. "It's just a little bit earlier than I expected."
Jack felt tears pricking at his eyes, but he ignored them. "You need to go to sleep," he said, drawing back and trying to smile at Ianto. "It's nearly two in the morning."
Ianto shuffled over to put his back against the wall. Jack took the hint and kicked off his shoes, settling down facing Ianto.
"This reminds me of your bed in the Hub," Ianto said, almost sounding amused. He closed his eyes and yawned widely, flopping onto his front and burying his nose in the pillow.
Jack pulled the covers up over them. "The nurses will kill me in the morning," he said with a grin. "They hate it when I sleep in your bed."
"Well, they can hardly expect you to sleep in one of those chairs," Ianto said with a mock-shudder, "and they wouldn't get in a camp-bed when I asked."
"You asked them to get in a camp-bed?" Jack asked. It sounded like the sort of thing Ianto would do.
Ianto shrugged, struggling to undo his sling with his free hand so that he could relax comfortably. Jack took over, and with gentle fingers eased Ianto's arm out of the sling, dumping the material on the bedside table.
Ianto smiled his thanks at him, and wriggled closer, so that he could rest his head on Jack's chest.
Jack draped his arm across Ianto's side and kissed him softly. He tasted of pears and chocolate and sleepiness (if that could be tasted), not to mention the something that was indefinably Ianto.
Ianto smiled into the kiss, before pulling back and yawning widely. "I'm tired," he said in surprise.
"It is two a.m.," Jack pointed out with an amused smile.
"I slept all afternoon, too," Ianto said. "I shouldn't be this tired."
Jack's heart clenched as he recalled the words he had seen when he had looked up leukaemia on the internet. Paleness, easy bruising, tiredness, aching in limbs—
"It's probably nothing," he said quickly, not wanting to think about it.
Ianto lifted his head to give Jack his 'yeah, right – what do you take me for?' look.
"Well, not nothing," Jack amended, "but you don't need to worry about it."
"It's part of the illness, isn't it?" Ianto asked through another yawn.
Jack restrained the urge to yawn as well. "Yeah."
"Okay, then." Ianto put his head down again, sighing in contentment. "I'm going to go to sleep now."
"Sweet dreams." Jack brushed a kiss across his forehead before letting his eyes close as well, relaxing in the knowledge that Ianto was safe in his arms; his lover's heartbeat pounded sure and strong against his own, a harsh reminder that every beat was one closer to his last.
-T-
"Captain Harkness!" A loud voice jolted them both awake, Jack quickly wiping away the dribble of drool from the corner of his mouth. "What have we told you about sleeping here?"
"Sorry, Sister," Jack looked unusually contrite.
"Blame me," Ianto said, rubbing his eyes, "I asked him to stay."
"We have plenty of beds elsewhere if you really wanted to stay," Sister Kate said sharply. Her short-cut blonde bob with its brown roots quivered in annoyance. "There was no need to disturb Ianto."
"He didn't disturb me," Ianto protested. "Honestly, it was me that suggested he stayed."
"Humph." Sister Kate looked disbelieving.
Jack made to get out of bed, but Ianto put a hand on his arm to stop him. "I did ask for a camp-bed," he reminded her with a polite smile.
Sister Kate rolled her eyes. "Why didn't you just ask for a bigger bed?"
Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Well, I figured that you wouldn't take that particularly well," he said. "Given your reaction this morning, I think I was right."
"I'll just go now…" Jack tried to slip away, but Ianto grabbed him again. "…or not."
The nurse regarded them thoughtfully for a moment. "Maybe," she said, "or maybe not."
Ianto smiled at her. "So we can have a bigger bed?" he asked hopefully.
"I'll think about it."
"Also, whilst you're here, can I have the day out today?" Ianto decided to try and push his luck.
Sister Kate's eyebrows rose a couple of inches up her forehead. "A day out?"
"Please, Katie?" Ianto asked, trying to look as healthy as possible. "I haven't been out for ages."
The nurse sighed, her walnut-brown eyes amused. "Provided you don't get up to anything too strenuous," she eyed Jack, "then yes. But come straight back here if you feel at all unwell."
"I feel fine," Ianto insisted. "I don't get why I'm stuck in here all the time. Most patients get to go out whenever they want."
"Most patients aren't meant to be dead," Katie retorted crisply, though her mouth crinkled up into an affectionate smile.
"I'll take care of him," promised Jack.
"Good, 'cos if you don't you've got me to answer to," she said. "Be back by three."
"Six," Ianto said.
"Four."
"Seven."
"Four."
"Six."
Katie sighed. "Look, come back at three and I'll let you go out for dinner. Deal?"
Ianto grinned, pushing back the covers. "Deal."
Katie shook her head. "Do you need me to help you dress?"
"I can do that," Jack said. "I've had plenty of practice doing the reverse."
Katie paused, her hand on the doorknob. "Remember, nothing strenuous," she warned.
"Sure, sure," Jack waved a hand in the air. "The golden rule."
Katie quirked an eyebrow, before vanishing back out, into the corridor. "And don't forget to check out at the reception."
"No problem." Ianto stood up, grabbing his jeans from the cupboard and trying to wriggle into them one-handed.
Jack laughed, helping him into them and picking up the first t-shirt in the cupboard.
Ianto shook his head vehemently. "Not green," he insisted. "Too like these gowns." He plucked at the loose hospital gown.
"Pink?" Jack held up a fuschia-coloured polo-shirt.
"The other pink one. I'm not a Barbie-doll."
Jack grinned. "Not even a Ken?"
Ianto pretended to consider it. He shook his head. "Nope."
Jack rooted through the pile, carelessly letting clothes drop to the floor. Ianto winced and swooped to pick them up, attempting to fold them.
"Leave that," Jack ordered, having found the requested shirt. "Arms up."
Ianto obeyed, letting Jack pull the gown over his head. "So, where are we going today?"
"Your choice," Jack said. "Gwen's dealing with the fish-cleanup."
"We could help her," Ianto suggested, standing still as Jack buttoned up his shirt.
"You want to do clean-up on your day off?"
"…good point. Katie says that there's a concert at the castle in the evening."
"The castle?" Jack quirked an eyebrow, tying off Ianto's sling. "Didn't know that there was a castle in Guernsey."
"You blind all of a sudden?" Ianto teased, sitting down to pull on his socks. "What d'you think that massive fort thing by the marina is?"
"My eyesight is fine, thankyou very much," Jack affected insult, but his pout quickly morphed into a grin at Ianto's eyeroll. "What sort of concert?"
"It's open-air," Ianto said, frowning with concentration as he laced up his trainers, "with different musical groups playing all over the castle."
"Sounds like fun. What time does that start?"
"Seven, I think, but I can talk Katie into letting us go." Ianto stood up and brushed a quick kiss across Jack's lips.
"Won't you be tired?" Jack asked anxiously. "That'll be late."
Ianto groaned. "Jack, I'm fine. I'm not about to break if you touch me too hard."
"Sorry, sorry…I just worry about you." Jack smiled tightly.
"Come on, no more depressing talk," Ianto took his hand and tugged at his arm. "We still haven't decided what we're going to do today."
"There are some leaflets in the reception," Jack said. "We could have a flick through those."
"Good idea. But before we do that, I want to get something to eat."
-T-
Ianto stuffed another slice of toast in his mouth, chewing furiously.
Jack watched him, a pleased smile on his face. "Nice to see you eating properly," he commented.
Ianto shrugged and swallowed his mouthful with difficulty. "I'm hungry," he said.
"You weren't yesterday," Jack said, not bothering to finish his own mouthful before speaking.
Ianto wrinkled his nose. "Don't speak when you're eating, Jack," he scolded.
"Whatever." Jack shovelled a forkful of scrambled egg into his mouth. "I didn't know that there was a restaurant here."
"It's hardly a restaurant," Ianto objected, "more of a café."
"They serve food, don't they?" Jack waved his knife around in the air. "Then it's a restaurant."
Ianto rolled his eyes, buttering a slice of toast. He bashed his elbow against the table edge and hissed in pain.
Jack reached out and grasped his arm gently, turning it over to examine his elbow. He noted the spreading red marks. "You'll have a bruise there."
"Great," Ianto sighed, "another one to add to my collection."
"Collection?"
Ianto withdrew his arm quickly, picking up the slice of toast. "You know how prone I am to getting bruised."
Jack narrowed his eyes at him, but didn't push the subject. "I was thinking that it might be a good idea to get your sister over here," he said. "She's been asking to see you."
"When do I start chemo?" Ianto poured out more orange juice for them both. "I'd prefer to see her whilst I've still got my hair."
Jack swallowed, pushing back the pain he felt whenever he heard Ianto talking casually about his illness. "The doctors say next week at the latest. But they also want you to transfer back to the hospital in Cardiff."
"They've got more facilities there," Ianto agreed, sipping at his juice. "It makes sense."
"I'd go back with you, you do know that?" Jack asked. "The Doctor and Gwen can deal with the situation here."
"I'd talk to the team before you start making decisions," Ianto said. He put his knife and fork together neatly on his plate. "You finished?"
Even though he wasn't, Jack nodded. "Sure. Shall we go and have a look at those leaflets now?"
Ianto stood up, and nearly sat back down again. He put his hand to his head, closing his eyes in the hope that that world would stop spinning around him.
"Ianto?" Jack's hand touched his cheek, his voice scared. "What is it? D'you need me to get a nurse?"
Ianto opened his eyes again. "I'm fine. Just a dizzy spell."
"I think it might be better if we don't go out today—"
"We're going out today, and that's final," Ianto said. Jack flinched at his snappy tone, and Ianto flushed. "Sorry. That wasn't meant to sound like that."
"Doesn't matter," Jack forced a bright smile. "Shall we head off, Mr Jones?"
Ianto took the offered hand and smiled sheepishly. "That sounds like a superb idea, Captain."
"Call me Jack." Jack winked.
"Why, sir, I couldn't possibly do that," Ianto replied, deadpan. "It would be disrespectful."
Jack laughed, a sound that made Ianto smile involuntarily. "What if I like disrespect?"
Ianto smirked. "Well, then – Jack."
Jack slipped an arm around Ianto's waist and they ambled from the café-cum-restaurant with easy smiles on their faces.
-T-
"You know something?" Jack asked casually, face pressed up against the glass window of the bus.
"What?" Ianto tried to ignore the marks on the window, failing spectacularly when he reached across and rubbed at it with a handkerchief.
"Stop fussing," Jack said, leaning back. "I need to sign your cast."
"What with?" Ianto asked. "'Captain Jack woz ere'?"
"No, though that does have possibilities," Jack said. "All of us ought to sign it. Like a good-luck charm."
"'A good-luck charm'?"
"Well, a 'Get better soon' sort of thing," Jack said, averting his eyes.
Ianto paused, not wanting to dampen the mood. "If that makes you happy."
Jack looked back at him, a slight frown creasing his matinee idol features. He opened his mouth to say something, then evidently thought better of it and closed it again.
"Do you need to check up with the others?" Ianto asked, changing the subject. "Let them know what we're doing?"
Jack put a hand in his pocket, then looked up sheepishly. "Oops?" he offered.
Ianto rolled his eyes. "You forgot your phone, didn't you?"
"Maybe."
Ianto shook his head. "You're hopeless." He pulled out his own phone. "Here, use mine – but don't use up all the credit. I don't want to have to top it up again."
Jack tried to convince himself that he had misinterpreted that last sentence, that Ianto had simply meant that he had only just topped it up, but he knew deep down that wasn't the case. "Thanks."
He quickly dialed Gwen's number, waiting impatiently for her to pick up.
"Jack?" she asked cautiously. "What is it?"
"Just thought that I'd let you know that Ianto and I are having a day out," Jack said. "We're going candle-making."
"'Candle-making'?" she sounded incredulous.
"It was either than or museums or the aquarium," Jack said, "and I've never been candle-making before."
"What time will you be back?"
"Ianto needs to be back at the hospital by three," he replied. In the seat beside him, Ianto rolled his eyes. "And then we were thinking of going to the open-air concert up at the castle."
"Mind if we tag along for that?"
"Sure." Jack glanced at Ianto, who was busy watching an old woman count the number of coppers in her purse. "It starts at seven."
"Castle Cornet?"
"Are there other castles on the island?" Jack raised an eyebrow, surprised.
"Yeah, Mrs Applegate was telling us about them earlier."
"Sounds interesting," Jack said.
Gwen obviously missed the sarcasm in his voice. "Not really. I didn't listen to most of it."
The bus rounded a corner, sending Ianto sliding into Jack. "Sorry," he mouthed.
Jack gave him a smile. "I'm afraid I need to go now, Gwen," he said. "Ianto will kill me if I use up all his credit."
"Oh, okay," she sounded disappointed. "See you later, then."
"Bye." Jack terminated the call and handed it back to Ianto. "All sorted."
The bus slowed, and the copper-counting lady got off. Ianto watched her go with a puzzled frown. "I'm yet to understand why she brought ten pounds in one and two pence," he said.
Jack laughed and slung an arm around his shoulders, kissing him on the cheek. "Maybe she just likes being different," he suggested.
"But it's not very logical." Ianto unwrapped Jack's arm from around his shoulders. "Not on the bus, Jack."
"Why not?"
"It's embarrassing."
"Why is it embarrassing?"
Ianto's cheeks were pink. "It just is."
Jack sighed. "You haven't got anything to lose," he pointed out. "It's not like you're going to see these people again."
Ianto frowned, mulling it through in his mind. "You know, you might have a point there," he said finally.
"Does that mean I'm allowed to kiss you now?" Jack asked hopefully.
Ianto leaned over and captured his mouth in a long, searching kiss. Jack grunted with surprise, his hand coming up to cradle Ianto's face.
A deliberate cough from behind them caused Ianto to jump back, his cheeks flaming.
A mother of two was looking at them with a stern expression. "Please, boys. This is public transport."
"Mummy!" her daughter complained. "I don't want to go to Granny's. She smells funny."
Jack winked roguishly at her. "How can I help myself, ma'am, when I have this gorgeous man sitting next to me?"
Her expression softened somewhat. "Maybe sit at the back of the bus, next time," she suggested, handing her three-year-old daughter a pink stuffed rabbit. "Quiet, Lulu," she ordered.
"There won't be a next time," Ianto muttered.
Jack felt like he had been kicked in the gut as he realised the double meaning of Ianto's words.
Ianto saw his expression, and his expression saddened somewhat. He touched Jack's hand. "I didn't mean it like that."
"I know." Jack gave him a tight smile.
They were quiet for a few minutes, just watching the countryside travel by the window.
The elderly gentleman in the seat in front of them turned around, his thin face lined like old shoe-leather. "Didja 'ear about the bloke wot jumped off that cliff?" he asked.
Ianto and Jack both froze.
"The 'elicopter 'ad to go out, 'parently," the man continued, his rheumy eyes not picking up the tension between the two men.
"I know," Jack managed to say. "That was Ianto."
Ianto glared at Jack.
The man looked almost buoyant with delight. "Eh? Is that how you broke yer arm, mister…?"
"Jones. Ianto Jones." Ianto swallowed, trying to force down the urge to cry. Breaking down in tears on the bus wasn't the ideal way to convince Jack that he was fine.
"Oh, you poor lamb," the mother had overheard their conversation. "No wonder you look so pale. I trust you've been taking good care of him." She stared intently at Jack.
"Of course I have," Jack said, stung. "I'm his partner."
Ianto raised an eyebrow at the word, but didn't say anything.
"It's good t' see young people on 'oliday 'ere," the old man said. "We durn't see enough of 'em."
"It's a working holiday," Jack said.
"We're journalists," Ianto added. "For a holiday magazine."
"It's lovely here in the summer," the mother said proudly, "you might want to put that it."
"Will do," Ianto said.
"You ought to come back then, both of you," she continued, "I run the Old Vicarage B&B, so drop by if you need a place to stay."
The bus started to slow. Jack grabbed Ianto's good arm and flashed a brilliant smile at the mother and the old man. "This is our stop. Bye!"
He near dragged Ianto off the bus, his grip so tight that it was painful.
"Ow – Jack!" Ianto protested, trying to yank his shoulder free. "That hurt."
Jack let go instantly, his eyes worried. "Sorry," he apologized.
The bus rumbled away down the lane, puffing exhaust into the air around them.
"What is it?" Ianto asked, noting the tension of his face and shoulders.
"It's nothing." Jack gestured dismissively, turning sharply on his heel to head off down the road, where the sign for Guernsey Candles stuck out of the hedgerow.
"Jack—"
Ianto was interrupted by an abrupt, rough kiss. Jack forced his tongue into Ianto's mouth, demanding entry; his arms held Ianto tight against his body.
Jack pulled back, his eyes overbright. He looked as if he was about to break down in tears at any second. "God, Ianto," he choked, face distraught.
"Sssh…" Ianto reached out and held him in a comforting embrace, easing Jack's head down onto his shoulder. "It's okay, Jack."
"It's not," Jack said, his voice muffled. "You're not going to be here come the summer, and I can't—" He broke off, arms coming up around Ianto and holding him close, albeit far gentler than before. "You're dying and there's nothing I can do."
"You don't need to do anything," Ianto said softly, stroking Jack's hair with his good hand.
"But what sort of person am I if I can't even save you?"
"You're a hero, Jack," Ianto said, "but even heroes can't save everyone."
"Why do I have to be a hero?" Jack asked plaintively. "I don't want to be a hero. I want to be Jack, who doesn't have to worry about anything more than whether he turned off the radio when he left the house this morning."
Ianto stroked Jack's hair reassuringly, ignoring the fact that he was going to have a damp patch on his shoulder.
"I just want to be normal," Jack finished, his voice thick with tears.
"Normal is overrated, let me tell you," Ianto said, which earned a wet chuckle from Jack.
"Not from where I'm standing."
"What, at the side of a road in Guernsey?"
Jack lifted his head, his eyes red and puffy. He smiled, in spite of his tears. "That's my Ianto," he said affectionately.
Ianto gently kissed away the tears rolling down his cheeks, savouring the salty flavour on his lips. "Puffy eyes aren't a good look, you know."
"No," Jack agreed, brushing a gentle kiss over Ianto's lips. "Thankyou."
"For telling you that tearful isn't good?"
"You know what I meant." Jack drew back and scrubbed the back of his hand across his face. "Look at me, acting like this."
Ianto smiled. "Come on, I hear candles calling."
"Oh? What are they saying?" Jack took Ianto's slim hand in his as they started down the lane.
"'Get a move on and stop sniffling'," Ianto teased.
"I do not sniffle," Jack countered.
"You do," Ianto said.
"Do not!"
"Like you don't snore." Ianto gave Jack an amused look.
"But I don't snore," Jack said. "I've never heard myself snoring, therefore I don't snore."
"You have some interesting reasoning there, Jack," Ianto informed him as they crossed the gravel drive to the low-slung barn.
"It's Harkness-reasoning," Jack told him haughtily, opening the door for him.
"Thanks," Ianto said, automatically.
Jack entered and stood behind him, hands on Ianto's waist. "Ready to make some candles, Mr Jones?" he breathed huskily in Ianto's ear.
Ianto rolled his eyes. "You promised to behave, Jack."
"I am behaving!" Jack protested, not removing his hands.
"Hands."
Jack sulkily put his hands in his pocket as an elderly man in a plum turtle-neck sweater came through another door.
"Good morning," Ianto said politely. "We're here to make some candles."
"You're in luck that it's quiet today, then," the man said, pushing his owl-glasses further up his nose. "We had masses of people in here yesterday."
"That's nice," Ianto said. "Good business, then?"
"Very good," the man agreed. His sharp eyes clearly noted the way Jack was standing closely behind Ianto, and Ianto's arm in its sling. "Are you both planning to make candles?"
"We thought we would, yes," Jack said.
"Is there a problem?" Ianto asked.
"You might have a bit of trouble with that arm, is what I'm thinking," the candle-maker said with a frown. "I can get my niece to help you, if you want— Roberta!"
A slim girl with dusky features poked her head around the beaded curtain at the end of the room. "Yes, Uncle?"
"I can help Ianto," Jack said, resting his hand on Ianto's shoulder in a possessive gesture.
The candle-maker shot them an amused glance. "Roberta, are the tanks heated?"
"Nearly," came the response. "The blue's taking a while, though."
"But useable?"
"Yes." Roberta flashed a coy smile Ianto's way, ignoring the way Jack was glowering at her. She smoothed down her white apron. "Will you be needing help, sir?" she asked hopefully.
"Jack'll help me, but thanks all the same," Ianto said, as polite as ever. He smiled at her, trying not to laugh at the amused expression on her uncle's face. He could only guess what Jack's face must be like.
"Oh, if you're sure," she said, covering her disappointment well. "I'll just get you both aprons." She disappeared into the back room again, the pink beaded curtain swaying behind her.
"Have you made candles before?" the candle-maker asked.
"No," Jack said. "Never really thought of it before."
"I watched a documentary on it once," Ianto said. "It looked fascinating."
The old man's weathered face cracked into a warm smile. "It is, believe me. It's a shame that it's a dying art, though." He chuckled. "A bit like me, I guess."
Ianto felt Jack tense at his back, so he slipped his good arm around Jack's waist in a comforting gesture. "Does it take long?"
"Forty minutes, if you're quick," the candle-maker said, dipping his head like a chicken as he considered.
Roberta came back through the curtain, aprons in hand. Her smile stuttered a little when she saw Ianto with his arm around Jack's waist. "Here's the aprons, sirs," she said, handing them to Jack. "I'll be out the back if you want any help."
