Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood.

Author's notes: Back to Ianto, and this chapter should please people. I should add some sort of vague warning for vaguely sexual content. I tried my best to not be explicit, but I take no responsibility for what your imaginations conjure up! *evil grin*

Added Complications

For Ianto, life seemed almost too good to be true. He had been dating Mark for a few weeks now and things were going great. The American worked long hours, but they met up most evenings for dog walks, followed by a quick dinner. They texted each other constantly and once Mark had surprised the Welshman by sending him a huge bunch of red roses to his work. Ianto had spent most of that day, as well as the rest of the week, blushing furiously while he tried to dodge his colleagues' questions. He had ended up conceding to the collective curiosity and revealed that he was bisexual and dating a very romantic man. Despite the questions at work, Ianto had been incredibly touched by the gesture and made sure he had shown his appreciation to Mark the next time they met. As a result, the American had concluded that he should clearly send Ianto flowers more often.

The new couple had more time to spend together during weekends. Mark had expressed an interest in cycling, so Ianto had been showing his lover some of the shorter routes he liked. They did not go as far or as fast as he usually cycled by himself, but somehow that did not matter to Ianto anywhere near as much as he thought it would. They had also gone hiking in Hertfordshire twice with Sinta, which had given Ianto the opportunity to take photos of the scenery, the dog and a very photogenic American. Some of the resulting pictures were very much liked by both men, but were certainly never going to end up on the Welshman's blog.

They tended to spend the nights together during the weekends, mostly at Mark's place so Sinta had some company. Ianto found that he missed having someone beside him in bed during the nights when he was alone. Sleeping in Mark's arms, having a physical presence next to him, made his empty dreams seem a little less dark and oppressing. He found he craved physical contact and the American was more than happy to indulge his need to touch or kiss almost constantly.

However, the one thing Mark's arms around him at night could not banish were the thoughts of piercing blue eyes that haunted him night and day. Time and time again he caught himself scanning the crowds for the American he had met so very briefly. He kept hoping that they might run into each other again, despite knowing how unlikely that would be. More than once, at the blissful moment of orgasm, when he closed his eyes the man he saw in his mind was not the one making love to him, but rather the stranger from the park. No matter how happy he was with Mark, he did not seem able to get the other man out of his mind. There had been something about the man that had intrigued him and he hated mysteries he could not solve.

He still could not fathom how a chance meeting in the park could possibly have affected him so strongly. He continued to have a nagging suspicion, based on absolutely nothing concrete, that the American was someone from his past, someone he had forgotten. He wished he had a chance to meet the older man again, even if it was just to confirm or reject his suspicion.

Ianto got his wish sooner than he expected. He had just slowed to walk after his evening run in the park when he spotted a familiar figure sitting on a bench, reading a book. The stranger looked as handsome as before and appeared to be completely engrossed in whatever he was reading, the corner of his mouth twitching every so often in amusement. Ianto could not help noticing how the older man's tight t-shirt, this time pale blue, showed off the sculpted muscles underneath and Ianto had to swallow around the sudden dryness of his throat. Even from a distance, when the American was not yet aware that he was being watched, Ianto felt inexplicably drawn to him. Not just drawn to him, but the Welshman actually wanted him.

Regular sex has addled my brain, Ianto thought, shaking his head.

Ianto's feet moved on their own accord and before he realised what was happening, he was walking towards the American. The older man looked up just as he came to a halt in front of him and smiled in a way that made something inside Ianto ache.

"Hello, man with a divine voice," the stranger grinned.

"Your remember me?" The Welshman looked a little surprised and at the same time felt a blush creeping across his cheeks.

"With eyes and accent like yours, how could I ever forget you?"

Ianto felt himself being thoroughly checked out and his cheeks burned despite his best efforts to keep calm. He was embarrassed by the forwardness of the other man, but for some reason walking away did not seem like an option. Instead he found he extended his hand towards the stranger.

"I'm Ianto."

"Pleased to meet you, Ianto. I'm Jack." He rose from the bench to shake the young man's hand.

As their hands touched a bolt of electricity seemed to run through Ianto. Jack, his mind whispered upon hearing the American's name, I knew that. But how? His mind was swirling, thoughts flitting past too fast to really register. All he knew was that this stranger, Jack, was important in some way and he wanted to find out more. Jack watched him intently, as if somehow guessing what was running through his mind. For a moment Ianto thought he saw uncertainly and even hesitation in the other man's eyes, but whatever it had been was gone so quickly he could not identify it for certain.

"Do you live around here?" Ianto asked, mostly to avoid a long silence settling between them while he was trying to sort out his thoughts.

"No, I just had some business to attend to in London. I had a couple of hours to spare, so I thought I'd sit and read for a bit and then maybe grab a bite to eat."

"What do you do?" Ianto wondered whether the handsome stranger was over on a business trip from America, which would certainly explain why they had only ran into one another twice.

"I'm a consultant for the British government." Jack replied without hesitation.

"Interesting," Ianto nodded.

He knew that the job title Jack had given did not actually say anything at all. However, his own reluctance to reveal even to his diaries what he himself had done for the government made him appreciate the other's need to be vague. If ambiguous job title was all Jack could divulge about his employment, the Welshman was not going to push him for details.

"You?"

"I work at the National Archives, so technically a government job as well. It shouldn't come as a surprise that I archive things." The corner of Ianto's mouth rose in a crooked smile.

"Really, I'd never have guessed," Jack grinned.

Ianto let out a small laugh, which sounded far too nervous for his liking. He looked at his feet, unsure what to say next.

"So, about that bite to eat. You wouldn't happen to know anywhere good around here, would you?" Jack asked.

"There's a great sushi bar nearby, if you like raw fish?"

"Raw fish has always struck me was very efficient. Not having to cook it saves time. Although, it is served with cooked rice, so perhaps it's not so efficient after all. All of this, by the way, is my weird and convoluted way of saying that yes, I do like sushi."

Jack gave Ianto one of his dazzling grins and the Welshman could not help but to grin back. For a while they simply stood there smiling at each other, until the archivist thought that one of them probably ought to say something.

"Err, so, I should point you in the direction of the restaurant?" He shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other.

"Better yet, why don't you join me? Unless of course you've already had dinner?"

"Umm, I haven't eaten, but I have a boyfriend." There was an almost undetectable hint of regret in Ianto's voice.

"It's a quick dinner I'm proposing, not marriage." Jack's grin grew wicked. "Unless of course your boyfriend is interested in a threesome, in which case all bets are off!"

Ianto blushed a deep scarlet colour, much to Jack's apparent delight. The older man even winked at him, while the Welshman was exposed to the full power of Jack's smile. Still, he thought, dinner would hardly be a big deal. Besides, he still wanted to find out whether the American was somehow connected to his forgotten past.

"Err I don't think he'd be up for that, I'm afraid. But dinner sounds nice. I do have to go home to shower and change, for both of our sakes." Ianto smiled a little, glad that his cheeks were gradually cooling down.

"Shall I wait here?" Jack offered, gesturing towards the park bench.

"No, no need. Why don't you come to my place and I'll make you a cup of coffee to drink while you wait?"

"Coffee sounds lovely. And if you need any help washing your back, I'm at your service!" Jack laughed as Ianto's blush returned in full force.

"My bathroom door does a lock, you know," the Welshman muttered as they started to walk towards his home.

"The true test will be whether you choose to use it or not," Jack wagged his eyebrows, thoroughly enjoying himself.

"I can see that this is going to be hard work," Ianto sighed with an eye roll that never failed to send a lick of heat through the Captain.

Ianto let them both into his flat and headed for the kitchen. He was not usually this complacent about letting a stranger into his home, but there was something about Jack that made him feel perfectly at ease. He trusted the older man, even though technically he had no reason for feeling that way. No reason, unless a bond had been forged in his past that now reached through time, despite all he had forgotten.

While the archivist made coffee, Jack looked around the flat with curiosity. He was particularly interested in the framed photos in the lounge. There was also a stack of A4 prints on the table and he was browsing through them when Ianto joined him. The American smiled at the younger man and nodded towards the photos.

"These are brilliant. Did you take them?"

"I did, thanks," Ianto smiled.

"You have a great eye for finding interesting shots and camera angles that create the best effect for the picture. Have you ever had exhibitions of your work?"

"Oh no, I'm not that good," the young man shook his head. "Besides, I've only been practising for few months."

"That's all the more impressive then." Jack smiled.

Ianto felt embarrassment wash over him. For some reason he found it hard to accept a compliment from Jack and he dropped his eyes to his sock-covered toes. The smell of fresh coffee saved him from blushing again and with a smile he headed towards the kitchen. He poured a large cup of coffee and took it back to the lounge. As he passed over the cup to his guest, their fingers touched briefly and Ianto had to fight the impulse to try to prolong the contact under some pretence. Jack thanked him with a nod and took a slip of the hot coffee.

"Ianto, this is amazing!" He exclaimed. "It must be the best coffee I've ever tasted, easily."

"Thanks," the Welshman felt oddly giddy from Jack's approval.

The American took another sip and the low moan of pleasure that escaped from his throat hit Ianto like a wave of hot air. He felt himself harden instantly, while his mind still struggled to processes the shocking reaction. He quickly stepped away from the older man and past him.

"I'm going to take a shower," he said over his shoulder, carefully keeping his body facing away from his guest. "There's more coffee in the pot, if you want some. Otherwise make yourself comfortable. I won't be long."

Jack watched with a grin as Ianto practically ran out of the room. He quickly downed the rest of his coffee and then got a re-fill from the kitchen. Settling down on the sofa, he leaned back and enjoyed the exquisite burst of caffeine coursing through him. He really had missed Ianto's coffee.

Ianto did lock the bathroom door, but he did so as much to keep himself in as to keep Jack out. He remained shocked by his body's sudden reaction to the American. Even now his entire being ached for the man in the next room. Not for his boyfriend, but for a man he had only met twice as far as he could remember. He leaned against the cool tiles and allowed the warm water cascade over him. How could a single sound elicit such a powerful reaction? Granted, it was probably the most sensual thing Ianto had ever heard but even so, he should not have become instantly hard. There was clearly something more to his connection with Jack that met the eye.

Mindful that the other man was waiting for him, Ianto washed himself quickly, deliberately ignoring his arousal. The peppermint of his shower gel helped to clear his mind a little, although his thoughts were still a jumbled mess. He was about to turn off the shower, when he looked down at himself. It seemed that no amount of thinking about archiving policies had deterred his body and he would have to do something about it, if he did not want Jack noticing the reaction he had caused. Ianto let out an exasperated sigh as he got on with the task at hand. The image of the older man, grinning at him in that form fitting leather jacket, rose from his thoughts unbidden and he was lost straight away. He bit his lip to keep quiet and rested against the tiles a few moments to catch his breath. He had resolved the physical problem, but in doing so only increased the emotional turmoil.

Ianto was slow to get dressed, strangely reluctant to leave the relative safety of his bedroom. He was a little embarrassed about his impulsive actions and hoped that none of that would be visible on his face. Jack seemed to have an uncanny ability to read him, though, which made him worry even more. Still, he should not keep the other man waiting forever, no matter how apprehensive he felt.

Jack was seated on the sofa, cradling the empty coffee cup in his hands, when he entered. The older man looked lost in his thoughts and there was a slightly wistful smile playing on his lips. He looked worn out and old beyond his years. Ianto felt unfamiliar sadness rising from within him and he wished he could take the other man in his arms and hug him until the pain he was clearly feeling had dissipated. He resisted the temptation, however, knowing that such action would surely complicate things ever further. As it was, he cleared his throat and raked a hand through his hair.

"Ready to go?"

"Yes," Jack nodded and rose from the sofa.

Ianto approached him to take the empty cup. For a moment Jack held on to the mug, their fingers overlapping.

"Thank you for the coffee," the older man spoke softly. "No other coffee will ever compare to yours."

The note of sadness Ianto had detected earlier coloured the American's words and the young man had a strange feeling that what Jack had said was less a statement of fact and more a promise. Something inside the Welshman shifted and an ache settled in his heart. He opened his mouth to speak, although he had no idea what to say, but his guest relinquished his hold of the cup and broke the spell.

"Raw fish, here we come!" Jack grinned, although perhaps his cheerfulness was just a tiny bit forced.

Ianto gave the coffee pot and Jack's mug a quick rinse and checked that the coffee machine was switched off. He then grabbed his wallet and keys as the two men headed out. It had been a very warm August, so there was no need for a sweater, even in the cooler evening air. The men walked in companionable silence, although Ianto did note that they were perhaps a fraction closer to one another than he usually would expect from relative strangers.

The sushi restaurant was busy, but they managed to find a quiet table in the far corner of the room. Ianto knew what to order without looking at the menu and after a few minutes of deliberation Jack chose almost the same items. The younger man played with his chop sticks for a moment and then looked up at the American with determination.

"Jack, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," the older man looked intrigued.

"This is going to sound really strange, but have we met before? I mean before you asked for directions to the station?" Ianto struggled to maintain eye contact and kept glancing down at the non-descript table cloth.

"Am I really that easy to forget?" Jack asked with a crooked grin. Ianto thought there might have been a flash of unease in his eyes, but it was gone almost straight away.

"No, that's not what I mean. I have…I have some gaps in my memory and you seem very familiar somehow." Ianto frowned and looked away.

"What kind of gaps?" Jack's voice was full of concern.

"I'm suffering from, hopefully temporary, amnesia. I'm missing three years of my life."

"I'm so sorry, that must be very difficult for you." Jack reached forward to touch Ianto's hand, but he stopped in mid air and after a moment of uncertainly let his hand drop down to his lap again.

"It was hard to start with," the young man nodded. "Now it's mainly just confusing. I kept diaries throughout the forgotten period, so I have some idea what happened, but there are some major gaps in what was covered in them. It seems that I've not lost the skills I acquired during the time, such as making great coffee, which is reassuring. But I think overall I've adjusted pretty well."

"If you had a choice, would you want your memories to return, even if there were dark, painful things in your past that are best left forgotten?" There was intensity in Jack's eyes as he spoke that startled Ianto.

Ianto thought about the question for a long time. The direction of the conversation and Jack's reaction to it was making him oddly nervous. The longer he spent in the company of the enigmatic American, the more he felt drawn to him. When the older man was looking at him, the rest of the world somehow faded away into the background. It stirred things within him, feelings best left undefined.

Their food arriving interrupted the Welshman's thoughts, of which he was surprisingly grateful. After the waiter left, he used his chop sticks to poke at the nearest piece of salmon and cleared his throat.

"I'm not sure, to be honest," he said, glancing up to see Jack watching him intently. "It has occurred to me that who I am now may be in direct contradiction with the person I was in the past. My girlfriend died during those three years and I can't even remember what she looked like, let alone know how to mourn her death. Perhaps it would be easier not to know. But at the same time, there are things I desperately want to find out. For example, I know I had at least one male lover in the past, but my diaries are entirely silent on the matter. I wish I knew who he was and what happened to us. So, as you can well imagine, it's complicated. But I never thought I had any actual say in the matter, since either my memories will return or they won't. I doubt it will be a choice I can consciously make."

Jack held his gaze for a moment before nodding slowly. He picked up the nearest piece of salmon sashimi and ate it looking deep in thought. Silence reigned for a few minutes, after which Jack took a sip of his water and smiled.

"So tell me, what made you take up photography?"

They chatted amicably through the rest of the dinner, mostly about Ianto's hobbies. The young man did most of the talking, Jack was seemingly content to watch him and throw in an occasional question. The American was an excellent listener and the archivist found himself sharing far more about his life that he really should have felt comfortable doing, given how little he knew about Jack. The old man seemed particularly interested and Ianto's photographs and the Welshman spent a great deal of time describing the camera he had bought first, as well the second one he had acquired later, together with a collection of lenses and filters for it.

"I'm telling you, you should definitely hold an exhibition."

The men were meandering through the park towards Ianto's flat, enjoying the cooling air after the heat of the day. The dinner had been enjoyable and Jack had announced that Ianto had an excellent taste in restaurants. The American had insisted on paying for both of them, saying that it was the least he could do after dragging the young man to dinner with him.

"I don't know, I'm not sure I'm really good enough," Ianto hesitated.

"In that case, I'm sure for both of us!" Jack announced and laughed.

"Very well then," the Welshman felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

"Knew it!" Jack grinned and looked smug.

"Do you always get what you want?" Ianto asked and immediately regretted the question.

Jack stopped and his eyes went dark as he regarded the young man before him. Ianto blushed under the intense scrutiny and found that he could not maintain eye contact with the older man. He stared at his feet instead, nails digging into his palms as he clenched his hands into too tight fists. A small gasp escaped his lips when he felt gentle fingers lift his chin so that he was meeting the American's eyes once more.

"Not always," Jack whispered, regret evident in his voice. The hold he had on the younger man's chin turned into a caress as he allowed his fingers to slip away. Turning, he walked on, hoping that Ianto would follow.

Ianto was a little slow to start moving again, but he soon caught up with the other man. For the first time that night, the silence that hung between them was awkward. The young man felt like some sort of boundary had been crossed and now he was desperately scrabbling to get back to the other side, to the safer side. He fumbled at the threads of the earlier conversation, hoping to steer things towards a more neutral ground.

"I wouldn't even know how to go about organising a photography exhibition."

Jack blinked a few times, surprised by the abrupt change in topic. Then his brain finally kicked into gear and he gave the other man a small smile.

"I could help you, maybe pull some strings. That is, if you want me to?" The older man's voice was coloured with hesitation and Ianto thought he also detected the tiniest hint of vulnerability.

"I'll think about it," the Welshman agreed.

As they approached his building, Ianto felt a nervous tension settling in the pit of his stomach. He was not sure how to end an evening, where he had gone out with an almost total stranger who was not his boyfriend. There was clearly sexual tension between them, try as he might to ignore it.

Outside the building, Ianto stopped and turned to face Jack.

"Well, thank you for tonight," he smiled. "It has certainly been interesting."

"It had indeed," Jack chuckled. "I'm glad I bumped into you again."

The Welshman felt his cheeks heat and played with a belt loop of his jeans for a while, before holding out his hand. The American grasped it and smiled.

"It was nice to meet you properly, Jack."

"Likewise, Ianto." The older man pulled a card from his pocket and held it out. "Here, take my card. If you want my help with the exhibition, or just want to talk, give me a call."

Ianto took the offered item, expecting to see a standard business card. Much to his surprise, however, there was no name or logo on it, just a mobile phone number. With a tiny shrug he pocketed the card.

"Thank you. And good night."

"Good night." Jack nodded and turned to leave. Ianto watched him go, hand resting on the door handle, until the older man rounded the corner and vanished from sight. With a deep sigh the Welshman walked inside.

It was not until later, when Ianto was already in bed and sleep was tugging at the edge of his consciousness that the young man realised that Jack had never actually answered his question about whether they had met before.

More author's notes: I've been writing this story steadily over the weekend, but unfortunately I've spent most of the time working on chapter 12, which is now completely written, rather than 11. So the next update may be a while coming. In any case, we're back to Jack and the rest of the team again next, with a chapter tentatively titled 'Glimmers of Hope'.