About mid-morning on the following day, Ianto reports for his next treatment, but Ortega isn't in the procedure room. Instead, she's in her lab, sitting in her chair with her legs pulled up so that her feet rest under her thighs. Before her in a metal bowl is a heart that has been sliced open to reveal two of its four chambers. She stares at the heart, poking at it with a long cotton swab.

Ianto clears his throat. "I'm ready for my treatment."

"Mmhm," she replies, her eyes fixated on the heart. She cocks her head. "It stopped beating."

"I'm sorry. Shall I dispose of it?"

"No."

"Oh. Okay," he replies, for lack of anything better to say. He notices that only two of the hearts are still in their containers, but she's growing another one in a machine. He watches the tissue fill in the hologram template, wondering how anyone could get used to that sight.

"Grab your stems out of the fridge, and we'll get started," she mutters as she covers the dead heart with a blue cloth.

Ianto considers asking her how she's doing, especially after the evening she had, but decides to do as he's told instead. He looks through the refrigerator, browsing through the medications until he finds the vial labeled "Ianto Jones -- stem cells (altered - NH)."

"Why does it say that my stems have been altered?" he asks Ortega as she gets her equipment ready.

She shudders as if he's broken her concentration. "They're not yours technically speaking," she explains. "Actually, when I reconstructed your body, I had to use donor stem cells because your stems weren't viable. You were dead. I altered the stems, of course, with your DNA so you would be you. Those are leftovers."

"And the NH?"

"He's the donor."

"Like Nacon H?"

"Yes. We should get started." There's a slight quiver in her voice. Ianto decides to drop the subject before she starts trembling, which could put him in a worse state than she started.

He smiles at her. Her face contorts into something that resembles a grin, and they fall back into their doctor/patient relationship without any more fuss. As she works, she relaxes into a Zen-like state.

However, just when Ortega injects the stems into Ianto's leg, Mona enters the room. Ianto tries to grab his trousers, but they are out of reach and his leg isn't working yet. The doctor leaves the syringe in Ianto's leg and nods her head at the CEO. She, then, looks around the room as if lost in her own procedure room, muttering under her breath. Ianto glances from her to the needle. Ortega flexes her fingers several times before she pulls it out.

As the doctor continues the procedure, Mona watches with half interest and asks Ianto, "I wanted to know what you've decided in regards to your stay on this planet."

"It's a lovely city," he replies as the laser sends sharp pulses of heat into his leg. He also feels rather awkward having this conversation in his underwear.

Mona nods in agreement. "Yes it is."

"But I do wonder where I would fit in."

"I think of when the first pioneers decided to construct a city here, knowing very little about the natives and their language. Much like your situation. People adapt, and with my help, you can do whatever pleases you."

"I am sure of that… although I hardly know what I've done to receive such good fortune."

"Do you look at the faces of the people and ask yourself why you happen to be so fortunate? Why did you get a second chance at life?" Mona asks.

"Yes. It's hard not to."

"But you are happy to be with the Captain, am I correct?"

"Yes, I am happy."

"And you are making the relationship worthwhile, I hope."

"Yes."

"Then, that guilt you're feeling…" Mona pauses to find the right words. Then, she raises her eyebrow and puts her hand on her hip. "Get over it. If you are here, it's because you must have done something right. Enjoy the fruits of your labors."

"Just like that? I'm not the only one who did something right."

"Then, call it luck," she says with a highly annoyed tone. "Or destiny. You and your Captain belong here."

"So certain, are you?"

"History will prove that I am right," she says.

Ianto snickers.

"What?" she asks.

He can't very well tell her that she sounded like George W. Bush right now. The reference will be lost on her since history has tried to forget that the bastard even existed. "Nothing," he replies.

Mona bristles ever so slightly before turning to the other woman in the room. "Dr. Ortega, I'd like to see your lab."

Xochitl's face tics, but she turns off her machine and covers Ianto's leg with a cold compress. Trying to adopt an air of professionalism -- an attempt that makes her look stiff and ungainly -- she opens the door to the lab and follows Mona inside the room.

Ianto can only catch bits and pieces of their conversation, but he gathers that Mona isn't happy about Ortega's progress with the hearts. To be honest, Ianto isn't even sure what Ortega is supposed to be researching. A toxin? A new heart medication? Is she trying to design a better, long-lasting heart? Although Ortega's occasionally prone to rambling, she's kept mum on the subject, merely telling Ianto to clean this and fetch that.

The intercom in the procedure room buzzes. Ianto turns his head towards the door and waits. The women are still in the lab, talking. Another buzz. Nothing again. After a few more buzzing sounds, Ianto stands, trying not to put too much weight on his left leg. Perhaps the muscle has healed completely, but he can't be too sure until Ortega gives him the thumbs up. He answers the intercom after a few more angry buzzes. The screen flashes, and the image appears.

The woman on the other end blinks several times and says, "You."

It's Kika.

"I was looking for Mona," the red-head explains.

"She's currently indisposed," Ianto replies.

"And by that you mean…"

"Speaking with Dr. Ortega."

"Look, just go in there, and tell her that Henriquetta Ramos is here to see her."

"And will she know who you are?"

Kika rolls her eyes impatiently. "Of course, she will."

When Ianto enters the lab, the CEO and the doctor are still arguing, only Ortega looks like a mouse waiting to be devoured.

"I don't have enough data," Ortega insists. "I would have to monitor the event several times to come up with any more theories."

"I see," Mona replies. She glances at Ianto. "Is there something you need?"

"Henriquetta Ramos insists on seeing you."

"If it isn't my favorite grass-roots, pain-in-the-neck activist," the older woman says with an almost affectionate smile. She pats Ortega on the arm. "I'll speak with you later," she says as she breezes out the door.

Ortega quietly cleans up her counter of her lab. She nods at the heart and says, "You may destroy it."

Ianto dons a pair of rubber gloves. He, then, places the heart into a machine -- treating it with great care even though it's dead tissue -- and puts an enzyme disk along with it. After he presses a few buttons, the disk is activated, and the heart is vaporized in a cloud of smoke.

Ortega hugs her knee to her chest and studies him with that vague expression of hers, just long enough to make him feel uncomfortable. Finally, she says, "You're very pale."

"Yes?" Ianto replies, wondering if he should be insulted.

"And I need fresh air." Xochitl smiles and picks up the phone.

~~o0o~~

In a pair of hours, Ianto and the doctor make arrangements for a weekend getaway. Ianto orders groceries as well as some new clothes for himself, all on Caput-sihil's tab. Xochitl takes care of their accommodations and transportation. She also calls the security office to request a guard.

"When they told me about my change in assignment," Jack says as he buckles his seatbelt in the company car, "I thought that I was going to have to wait on some boring blowhard for the whole weekend."

"If you play your cards right, I'll show you a blowhard," Ianto replies in Jack's ear. He settles into his seat and asks aloud, "Where exactly are we going?"

"The company cabin," Ortega says. "I very much hope that you'll like it."

And they do. The cabin is a beautiful wooden building with a modern kitchen, a den with a fireplace, and a lovely downstairs bedroom with full bathroom facilities, which Ianto is grateful to see. After his last camping experiences, he absolutely refuses to sleep in a tent. There's also an upstairs bedroom for Ortega. Ianto debates in his head whether or not it's worth it to climb the stairs to get a view from the widow's walk. In the end, he decides against it. Perhaps the next day.

The land lies between two coffee farms, and from the deck in the back of the cabin, Ianto can see trees full of bright red cherries. Even though there is a significant lack of smog in the city due to strict environmental guidelines, out here, the air feels cleaner and crisper, and the smells are sweeter.

Bayil is already there when they arrive. He's wearing a pair of tight black shorts and nothing else, and they all stand in silence and watch him flex his sleek muscles. Apparently, his leopard spots run down his back as well, and they suit him quite nicely.

"Okay," Bayil says to Ianto. "We'll start with your usual stretching exercises and, after, a nice, little hike on the novice trail. Got that?"

Ortega sits on the floor in a half lotus pose, fidgeting with a device, while Jack lies on a deck chair, watching the men work. Ianto doesn't have to see the older man's face to know that he has the filthiest grin on his face while imagining all sorts of situations.

Meanwhile, Bayil toys with Jack. With a sort of impish glee, the physiotherapist spends a bit of extra time correcting Ianto's positions. His fingers linger a bit longer than they should. Jack shifts in his chair and adjusts himself.

"You're only encouraging him," Ianto warns.

"I'm a married man," Bayil whispers into the young man's ear. "Although I don't think my wife would mind so long as I give her the play by play, sparing no detail."

"Jack and his fucking pheromones."

"Not just him, brother," Bayil purrs as he winks at Ianto.

The Welshman turns beet red, but also feels quite flattered indeed.

Ortega abruptly rises to her feet and takes Jack's hand. She pricks his finger and runs a drop of blood through her device.

Once she gets the results, she shows the older man the results of the test and declares, "You're clean."

Jack reads the screen and promptly begins to laugh. Glancing at Ianto, he says, "Good to know."

"Grab your packs, and let's go," Bayil tells them.

Somehow, a productive hike turns into a lazy stroll. Yet, nobody complains. Bayil acts as their guide and moves ahead of them while Jack takes up the rear and gropes Ianto at every opportunity he gets.

A civet-like creature watches the trio from a tree's branches with curiosity, but is too skittish to approach them, seemingly frightened of Bayil. Ianto can't blame the animal. The physiotherapist licks his lips and bares his teeth, displaying something very primal and dangerous under that goldenrod skin. The civet scurries back into his home.

Oh, the stories that Ianto will have for Gwen, Martha and his sister when he gets back. He realizes that he really needs male friends. Well, there's always Rhys, but maybe he should play nice with PC Andy, for once.

"This is as far as I go, boys," Bayil says when they reach a stream. "Ianto, I suggest you take a break before you head back. Captain, if you'll keep an eye on him…"

"With pleasure."

"Snack time in a couple of hours. I assume you'll be peckish by then," the overly familiar physiotherapist remarks.

As soon as Bayil is out of earshot, Ianto says, "It's all a conspiracy to get me to fall in love with this planet."

"Yeah? Is it working?"

Ianto doesn't answer and kisses Jack instead.

"Not yet," Jack whispers. "Get some rest first."

Jack opens his backpack and spreads a blanket over a patch of grass for Ianto to sit on. In no time, Jack strips off his clothes before jumping into the water and splashing around for the young man's benefit.

Ianto, of course, appreciates the show. It's not just watching the water roll off Jack's body (although that is a thing of beauty in of itself) that makes him happy. It's seeing the sheer and naked joy in the older man's face as he does an odd parody of an aquatic dance. It's seeing Jack lighter than he's been in weeks -- like his old self.

"Taught Esther Williams everything she knew," Jack says.

"And fortunately she unlearned all of it before making it in Hollywood," Ianto retorts.

Jack playfully dips under the water. With his cheeks puffed out, he moves towards the shore and, balanced on one leg like a fountain cherub, spits water at Ianto. The young man laughs as he uses the edge of his shirt to pat himself dry.

Ianto takes this as his cue to get undressed, and Jack helps him keep his balance as he walks into the water.

"Fuck, it's cold!" Ianto shouts, but it eases the pain in his leg.

"It's a mountain stream," Jack replies. "What did you expect? It'll get better. Just let your body adjust."

Gritting his teeth, the young man submerges himself into the stream. Jack follows him under and pulls him into a kiss. Ianto stands up in the chest-high water while Jack swims around him, brushing against his body, and like a naughty fish, Jack nips Ianto's thighs, his belly, his love handles, his cock, his balls. After allowing the older man to catch his breath, Ianto holds onto Jack's shoulders and kisses Jack fiercely, feeling so intensely happy to be alive.

They go back to the blanket once again and stretch themselves on it. The sun peeks through the branches of the tall trees and bathes Ianto's skin, warming it up again.

Jack recites:

"Loaf with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat,
Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not even the best,
Only the lull I like, the hum of your valvèd voice."

"Hmmmm…" Ianto responds as Jack gently touches his chest.

Jack continues:

"I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning,
How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently tunr'd over on me,
And parted the shirt from my busom bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare- stript heart,
And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet."

Jack lies back and waits. After a moment or so of silence, he pokes Ianto in the ribs.

The young man claps politely. "Oh, yes, that was lovely. Very nice. Walt Whitman, correct?"

"Well?"

"Oh, you want me to… How was I supposed to know? It's afternoon, and there are only two seasons in this particular region -- the rainy season and the dry season. I may be wrong, but we are entering the dry season. Besides, you're already naked so I can't part your shirt from your busom bone. And you don't have a beard. You can't grow one…"

"No sense of poetry," Jack complains.

Ianto laughs, but he licks him from navel to neck. He is about to take Jack's cock in his mouth, he asks, "When Ortega said you were clean…"

"Yes, she meant STDs. Suck away," Jack says. "This was supposed to be romantic."

"Oh, it is. It just depends on how you look at it," Ianto replies.

~~o0o~~

They walk back to the cabin where Bayil is waiting for them with a cheese and cracker tray along with an assortment of fruit. Ortega shuts off her laptop and joins them on the deck where they all sit and eat while Bayil tells them about his family and how much he appreciates his assignment. Having only one patient to deal with at the moment has allowed him to spend more time with the child.

"Here's the luckiest bastards in the world," Bayil says as he raises a glass. However, the thought that they all profited some way in a heavily flawed system isn't lost on any of them. Ortega keeps her eyes on Jack as she drains her glass.

They watch the sun set behind the mountains. Bayil returns to his family. Shortly thereafter, Ortega retires for the night.

Jack lights a fire in the main room while Ianto stretches out on a chaise.

"I really needed that after the morning I had," Jack says, mussing Ianto's hair before planting a small kiss on the top of Ianto's head.

"Yeah?"

"You know the Imperial Stormtroopers from Star Wars?"

"Yes."

"That's how good my students were at the shooting range today," Jack says with an eye roll. He slumps into a large chair and pulls his feet onto an ottoman. Ianto wonders how Jack might look with a pipe and a pair of reading glasses. Maybe a pair of slippers and a burgundy robe as well.

"You didn't use your special teaching methods, did you?"

"There are harassment laws that I actually have to follow."

"I see," Ianto says. "My morning wasn't great either. I spoke with Mona Cavendish."

"Still trying to pressure you into staying on this planet, I take it."

"She had the audacity to ask me if I felt guilty when I looked at others, knowing that I was given this gift."

"Do you?"

"Yes," Ianto replies. He could lie, but Jack would probably see right through him. "I can't imagine what it would feel like, looking at Gwen and knowing that I got another shot at life when she might not."

"Maybe I could get Ortega to replicate Gwen," Jack suggests.

"You'd have to become Mona's indentured servant for that favor."

"Just a thought."

After a pause, Ianto says, "I'd bring back Tosh."

"Not Lisa?"

"It's been a long time since I was the man she knew. I'm not the same man she loved."

Jack shifts uncomfortably in his chair. They listen to the noises coming from the second floor. It sounds like Ortega is moving a piece of furniture. The noises stop just as quickly as they began.

"What about Owen?" Jack asks.

"We'll split the cost."

They fall silent. The wood crackles. A glowing ember jumps from the flames before fluttering to the ground and turning to ash.

"I would have died for all of you," Jack says quietly.

"And you have," Ianto tells him. "You've died in so many situations where it could have easily been one of us."

"But you all leave me in the end, anyway."

"There are days when I wished I didn't have to."

"I just got tired of all that death," Jack says. "Torchwood has been decades and decades of nothing but death. I've seen so many agents not reach their fifth year anniversary. For that reason, I tried not to get close. Then, Gwen comes along and tells me that I need to be more human, and you show me how… I loved all of you… you, Owen, Tosh… Suzie."

"But those three years that we had, they were good, yeah?"

"Ianto…" Jack stares at the ceiling, trying to pull himself together. "You asked me that when you died."

"Sorry. Wasn't there."

"Lucky you."

"That's why you don't like any of your students, isn't it?"

"My job isn't to like them," Jack says curtly, "but to make sure that they know how to do their job."

"I think I understand why you left Torchwood, but what I don't quite understand is why you had to leave Earth."

"The chaos was world-wide. There were some countries that were willing to rally together to fight for their children, and they made for stronger nations afterwards. But for everyone of those, there were more countries where the people were still angry and bitter. There were protests, and in some cases riots. Some governments became military coups. And I was responsible for that. If I had stood up to the 456 back then…"

"You can't keep blaming yourself, Jack."

"That's what Gwen said."

"She's a smart lady," Ianto says. "Why'd you take over Torchwood, Jack?"

"For stupid ideals."

"They're not so stupid to me. Why?"

"Because I wanted to break from the past. I wanted to do things differently. I wanted to make things right."

"And that's what you did, wasn't it?" Ianto asks. "You were always telling me how Torchwood made you ruthless, and yet, you rebuilt yourself into someone more heroic."

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to live up to that image?" Jack asks.

And there's nothing Ianto can say to that. Jack tries to slip away; however, Ianto catches his wrist before he can get away. The young man doesn't speak. Instead, he squeezes Jack's hand and lets him go.

Jack hesitates before going into the bedroom. He drums his fingers on the door jamb for a few seconds before grabbing his reader and returning to Ianto's side. Ianto picks up his laptop so that he can write in his diary, and they settle in their chairs like an old married couple.

~~o0o~~

Since most of his days have been spent in that sad, personality-free room in the Caput-sihil tower, Ianto cannot remember the last time he's woken up to the scent of bacon and eggs. So when the scent wafts into the cheerful bedroom at the cabin, he ignores the nagging pain in his calf and hobbles into the kitchen where Jack and Xochitl are making breakfast. They both drop their conversation the minute they see Ianto.

"If you had waited a few more minutes," Jack says, "you would have gotten breakfast in bed."

"I'm fine," Ianto replies. "Anyone make coffee yet?"

Xochitl shakes her head.

"Then, I'll take care of that," Ianto says.

It's the first cup of coffee he's made since his rebirth, but with the "antique" vacuum-style coffee maker he has to work with, he has no problems. He knows exactly how much water to use, how much coffee to grind. He's golden.

A nice breakfast and a quick shower later, they head out to the coffee farm where Jack used to work. Zoila shows them around the farm from the mill, where she's in charge of processing the berries, to the series of worker's houses. Ianto even gets a glimpse of the room that Jack shared with Dominguez. The bed's not much bigger than the cot Jack had back at the hub, and the sheets are just about as scratchy -- not that Jack would care about that as much as Ianto tried to educate him about thread count. The windows don't do a very good job of keeping out the noise from outside, and none of the doors have locks, which makes Ianto wonder how Jack dealt with the lack of privacy.

Yax drives Ianto to the grove with Jack and Ortega riding in the back of the truck. Back on Earth, Ianto had thought about visiting a coffee farm. He'd even gone as far as researching prices for air fare and accommodations, but it never amounted to anything more than wishful thinking. Getting away from it all was merely something nice to think about when his to-do list seemed endless or when Jack and Gwen were stepping on his last nerve, but in the end, he never could actually work up the courage to ask for a proper holiday. Asking for days off to visit his sister was difficult enough, especially in the last months as they dealt with the loss of Owen and Tosh.

And now he's here, surrounded by trees filled with bright red cherries. In spite of all the animal chatter, there's a certain peace on the farm that must appeal to Jack. Of course, Ianto flatters himself to think that the older man came here to keep his memory alive. He won't ask Jack about it. The thought will be his private indulgence.

Ianto picks a cherry off its stem and rolls it around between his thumb and forefinger. He splits it open and finds the bean tucked inside. He places the bean in a handkerchief, which he stuffs in his pocket as a keepsake.

~~o0o~~

They invite Jack's friends back to the cabin. Jack, Dominguez and Zoila challenge Yax, Idris and Ortega to some sort of lawn bowling game while Ianto and Roman sit on the deck, discussing current events. During their conversation, Ianto feels as though he's taking an oral exam as he tries to prove to the farmer that he's well-informed enough to pass as any other 33rd Century bloke or "guy" (which is more commonly used in Palenque). The laconic, older man doesn't give any impression to whether or not he's buying it.

However, Ianto finds Roman to be affable man, and Roman appears to enjoy Ianto's company, although the farmer prefers to call him Yantito or "little Ianto."

"Your name," Roman explains. "Sounds like the word for 'cry.' It reminds me of those old Spanish names 'Dolores' and 'Soledad' -- pain and loneliness."

"I once met a man named Grey," Ianto says.

"Sounds like those parents were setting up that child for a dismal life."

Ianto is glad that Jack is out of ear-shot. "But my name is Welsh, not Spanish."

"You from New Earth like Idris?" Roman asks.

"Yes."

"What part?"

"New South Wales… not Australia."

Roman studies Ianto's face for a while, squinting his eyes in the sun. Then, he chuckles. "Your Jack -- when I first met him, I didn't know whether or not to believe a word he said. After getting to know him a bit, I could see that he was a good man. Whether or not he told me the truth about his humble origins doesn't seem so important anymore."

"I find myself in the same situation," Ianto replies.

Roman laughs.

"Woo-hoo!" Yax shouts as she gives Idris a high-five.

Behind her, Jack, Dominguez and Zoila protest.

"Her shot was fair," Yax says. "So quit your whining." She playfully slaps Ortega's ass. Ianto fully expects the good doctor to hyper-ventilate, but Xochitl giggles like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Jack is the first to climb back on the deck. He pulls Ianto up to his feet and kisses the young man in front of the rest of them.

"But you lost," Ianto says.

"I needed a pick-me-up," Jack replies, going in for another snog.

"Get a room," Dominguez tells them.

They all stay long enough to watch "The Amazing Race" -- a show where couples race from planet to planet, completing an assortment of challenges.

"You would kick ass on that show," Idris says to Yax.

"Except that I haven't been genetically enhanced," she replies.

Dominguez grunts in disgust. "What ever happened to making babies the old fashioned way?"

"There's always gene therapy," Zoila suggests.

"On my salary?" Yax asks.

"Well, the show isn't always about ability," Idris points out. "Sometimes, it comes down to luck, like that team of sisters who got caught in that wormhole before they reached Volorian."

"That was sad," Zoila says. "It sent them back to where they started."

"Could have been worse," Roman says with a shudder. "They could have been sent anywhere in the universe."

"Or any time," Jack whispers to Ianto.

Idris turns around to face the men. "Did you watch it, Jack?"

"Jack doesn't even watch reality shows, isn't that right?" Roman says.

Ianto adds, "Never has."

"Why not?" Idris asks.

Jack merely shrugs. Ianto brushes his lips against Jack's temple -- a poor gesture to ease a pain that still lingers inside of the old man. Idris, regretting he asked, turns his attention back to the show.

They call it an evening, and Ianto gets hugs and kisses from all of Jack's friends. While Ianto is embarrassed and slightly uncomfortable with these gestures, he accepts them with good grace, and as he waves good-bye, a little voice inside his head whispers to him: This could be your life.

If they could get away from Mona Cavendish.

"Bed?" he asks.

"Are you tired?" Jack replies.

Ianto grins. "Not at all."


A/N: The poem Jack recites is an excerpt of "Song of Myself" from Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman. And I just wanted to write a fluffy chapter before the other shoe drops, and things get really weird.