Interlude—Chapter 10

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"No matter what happens, they can't say we haven't lived."

--Humphrey Bogart

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Henry spotted Jack as soon as he swept through the door of Bessie's. Jack raked the bistro with his gaze, settled on his impossibly beautiful friend and strode over to his table, flashing a smile at the server who scrambled to get his drink. Henry rose, and embraced Jack warmly.

"Rumor has it the Welshman is heading out this evening. I was afraid I wasn't going to have a chance to see you again."

Jack grinned at him.

"I'd never leave without saying good bye, Henry."

"All past evidence to the contrary. Want a list?"

A sudden flash of memory caused an unexpected ache in Jack's gut. It wasn't only Henry Jack had left without saying "good bye"—he'd done it once to Ianto too, one of the actions in his life he regretted the most.

"Umm—no, thanks. Point taken."

Henry, who had seen the flash of pain on Jack's face and accurately guessed at its cause, gestured towards his table.

"Join me."

Jack sat, and Henry looked at him curiously.

"Where's Kam? I'd kind of expected you to be joined at the hip right about now. He not feel up to coming?"

"He's doing better. He's going to need to take it easy for awhile, but no, that's not why he's not here. I left him drinking coffee and telling old stories with a couple other members of the crew. I was going to ask him to come with me, but they seemed to be having a good time, so I left him to it."

Henry eyed him speculatively.

"You all right with that?"

Jack looked at him in surprise, whether genuine or feigned was unclear to Henry. Jack's days as a profession con man had already been long behind him when they met, but the older man had never lost the skills involved. He could sell snow to Inuits during the Ice Age, and they'd be happy about the purchase.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"There have been times when you didn't share so well."

"Are you kidding? I'm the last person to get jealous over a lover, and Kam and I aren't even…"

"That might be true generally, Jack, but this isn't like that. Ianto's time and attentions you were plenty jealous of…"

"Not because I had any doubts about Ianto. It was just that I knew we were likely to have so little time together, and I didn't want to waste any of it. Torchwood employees aren't known for their longevity."

"Neither are pilots on salvage ships."

"I certainly don't begrudge Kam friendship with other members of the crew. It's going to be hard enough for him, being involved with me." He paused, watching Henry watching him.

"What?"

"I was just thinking that you've changed a lot in the last six hundred years."

Jack grinned. "I certainly hope so. The same can definitely be said about you." He thought back to the far brasher and more arrogant man he'd met in Paris in the 1920s. A twinge of sadness crossed Henry's gaze.

"You think about her much?"

"Vicki?"

Jack rolled his eyes. What was it with Henry and pretending he didn't understand the questions Jack asked?

"Of course, Vicki." Jack had liked Vicki Nelson. He too had felt the draw of the private detective Henry had teamed up with in Toronto and recognized the irony that the one woman who had truly touched his soul in all the time Jack had known him was just about the only woman who declined to be with him. But maybe that was part of why she'd left such an indelible mark on his soul. That and her incredible courage.

"Not as often as I used to."

"Which means?"

"Daily, not hourly. Of course I think about her. But that was five hundred years ago, as you well know. And my relationship with her was nothing like yours with Ianto. But, boy, as horrible as the stuff we dealt with was, in those few years, I had more fun with her…"

Jack reached out and touched his friend's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"So," Henry redirected the conversation, "Where to now?"

"I told you, I've got a lead on a partially scavenged ship. Figure there's still some salvageable stuff on board. Guess we'll find out when we get there."

"Think you'll be back through here at the end of the job?"

Jack shrugged. "We'll be back eventually."

"It's been nice having you here, Jack."

Jack raised his glass in a toast.

"To old friends."

"Old friends." He sighed. "I'm starting to feel my age, Jack."

Jack grinned at him. "Yeah, that first millennium is a bitch, isn't it?" But then he sobered. "Not the kind of thing you can talk to people about here, is it?"

"Not exactly."

"You thinking about making a move?"

Henry shrugged. "What's better for a vampire than an outlying space station? No sunlight, plenty of willing partners to drink from, and not a lot of questions asked if someone like Mr. Leese shows up dead. Plus Bessie's is doing well. I'm respected. I have friends here, a place in this community, time to paint and sculpt. And once in awhile my oldest friend drops by for a few days." He smiled at Jack ruefully.

"And what about love?"

"I have—company."

"Hardly the same thing."

"I feel like I'm falling into the looking glass. Weren't we just having this conversation about you?"

"Point taken. You okay, though, really, Henry? For what it's worth, Kam says your hostess has a thing for you…"

"Really?" Henry looked across the room speculatively, then returned his gaze to Jack. "No, I'm fine. You know how it is. An old friend shows up, and you take a trip down memory lane. My memory lane is just longer and more curved than most. Easier to fall into a bit of melancholy. But tomorrow you'll be gone, and life will go back to normal." He looked back over at the woman standing behind the hostess stand. "And maybe the next time you drop by, I'll be in love too. You never know."

Jack tossed back the rest of his drink, stood, pulled Henry up, into his arms and into a deep and passionate kiss that did not go unnoticed by the hostess. Finally they came apart, and Jack placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, brushed the long, brown curls back off of Henry's face, then laid his own forehead against that of the man who six hundred years earlier had been his lover.

"I'll see you soon, my old friend. Be well," and he turned and strode from the restaurant.

"You too," whispered Henry, watching him go.