AN: I've updated some of the chapters just to correct a few inaccuracies – thank you very much for all the feedback, follows and reviews!

Here's a new one for you to enjoy.


Chapter 12

Present day

Ianto clumsily lifted the cuff of his shirt to reveal his watch face, 8:58 glared back at him as he inwardly sighed and outwardly rolled his eyes. At that moment, his foot caught as he descended the stairs two at a time and he felt the uneasy rush of his stomach to his head as the world tilted on it's axis. Momentarily steading himself on the railing he muttered a few obscenities under his breath and took a deep breath. Composure, please, he thought to himself – more a plea than a declaration of fact. He felt steadier, and slowed his pace as he took the last of the steps into the station. Feeling his heart beat sow down he realised it was no use rushing. I'm late. So be it.

It was a new assignment day, the arduous training was almost signed off and now all new Torchwood recruits would be given their initial postings in the near future. Having been assessed on their particular strengths and weaknesses they were assigned where it was felt they'd be most suited; somewhere to build their confidence and get to know the alien world in relative safety. Ianto, being Ianto, had stayed up far too late worrying about where he might be sent. How he would move? Where would he move? How he would find a place to live? How would he settle in, make new friends…an endless stream of new-job worry had plagued his mind as soon as he tried to shut his eyes. So he stopped shutting his eyes and watched old re-runs of TV late in the early morning. Consequently, he realised, he was now distinctly lacking in co-ordination and almost falling down the stairs to the tube. Reaching the bottom of the steps his spirits lightened as the young man embraced the chance to lose himself amongst the rush hour crowd; one, whole, moving mass which seemed able to carry you through to the train virtually without the need to move your own feet. It'd been a busy few weeks Ianto reflected, as he reached up and grabbed the handrail above his head. The sway of the train took his body along the curves of the tunnel, he and the other passengers settled into a shared understanding of silence and muted glances as the carriage took them down into the darkness.

Jack Harkness. Oh for goodness sake… The man was on his mind. He hadn't set eyes on the Captain since that last evening together 2 months ago, and in a strange way Ianto was relieved and disappointed at the same time. Deep down he knew it couldn't last; his sense of self-preservation was such that the enforced removal from the situation was seen as a blessing. There had been texts, flirtation, more bad chat up lines and shared memories of their evenings together, but Ianto was resigned to that being it. He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, naturally, but he reiterated the thought over and over that it had all worked out for the best.


One Week Earlier

Jack stood staring at the rift monitor, his eyes were glued to the screen but something about the corners of his mouth suggested that he wasn't really concentrating anymore. Gwen watched him from across the floor of the hub, wonder where he's gone, she thought to herself, smiling and turning her attention back to her work. Jack shook his head and re-focused on what was in front of him.

Sensing her eyes upon him, he barked across the hub, "Gwen can you send over those co-ordinates from earlier? I need to cross match".

"I thought Tosh was on that?" Gwen replied, reluctantly pulling up a file on the screen and searching for the data.

"Well she was, but she had to go out with Owen on the Weevil hunt and now I can't get any further with this mysterious disappearing gas until I get these damn co-ordinates!" Jack roared, his voice rising as his frustration grew.

"Alright, keep yer hair on!" Gwen replied, trying to contain a smile which just escaped her voice. She knew it would probably make Jack worse and secretly delighted in pushing up his blood pressure.

"Dammit Gwen. We NEED to track THIS DOWN." Jack groaned, and childishly pushed the screen away. Hands on hips, he stared in her direction. Gwen looked over and stood up. A solitary raised eyebrow challenged her senior officer.

"Shall I shove my screen away too? Is that what we're doing now? Did I miss the memo?" she countered, mirroring his stance and cocking her head to one side. Jack's arms dropped, he exhaled and let his shoulders drop.

Walking towards her he muttered "sorry, sorry, I just think we're a little overwhelmed right now." Gwen watched the older man's face and suddenly realised how tired he looked. The lines around his eyes and pale complexion were highlighted by the deepening shadows dancing under his eyes.

"It's ok, I was pushing your buttons" turning to the screen she clicked the mouse a few times. "Done, they'll be over in your account now". Jack walked back to his station and opened the file. With the tap of a few keys he started the process of cross matching all known sightings of the strange, ephemeral gas.

"You know I haven't even looked through those new recruit stats and CVs you put on my desk. I need to. S'pose I should get in there early and line us up the best one eh? We could use some fresh blood, some new energy. And two more hands of course." Jack winked at Gwen, making her laugh and easing the tension.

"You've got enough hands already Harkness, more than enough!" she teased back.

Jack walked over to his office and collapsed into his chair, reclining back into a comfortable position. He lowered his braces off his shoulders; rolling his weary joints around and stretching his neck to each side. Too much computer time today. We really need to get someone else in, if for no other reason than to save my neck. Sifting the papers on his desk, he found what he was looking for, the large brown envelope containing the lastest batch of new recruits from the Torchwood training centre. Since Torchwood One had closed down the new recruits were vetted carefully, trained hard and the remaining handful offered out to various teams across the globe. Jack knew they'd be the best of the best, but he wanted to make sure they got someone who was compatible with the rest of the team. Let's see what you've got. He opened the packet and the contents slid onto his desk. Fanning them out he looked quickly across the names. McAllister, Rosenthell, Weaver, Jones, Main and Jackson were the first 6 in the pile. Hmmmm. Jones. That reminds me. He thought to himself, turning his chair and reaching across the desk to his mobile phone.

Jack: Hello Jones. Long-time no hear. Tell me what you're up to right now. That's an order. James x

He picked up the first in the pile and started to devour the information. Oxford. Graduated. Top 3%. Excellent on Alien Tech. "Hmmm. We've got Tosh for that" he said aloud to no-one in particular. Discarding the file he picked up another, eyes scanning for something which would interest him…


As he picked up a sandwich Ianto felt the tell-tale vibration of his phone in his trouser pocket. A small smile appeared upon his lips; he scolded himself for it and opened the text regardless. Rolling his eyes as he read it, he knew he would respond immediately. I'm such a loser. A loser who's playing with fire. Sexy, attractive, fire. Harkness.

Jones: I'm working, of course. On something very big and important. Now please leave me alone so I can continue with it. x

Jack: I have something even bigger and much more important for you to work on. x

Jones: That's a purely subjective matter of opinion I'm afraid! x

Jack: So when will I next get subjected to yours? x

Jones: Promises, promises Mr. You're the one who has disappeared! x

Jack: Hmm. Not sure that's entirely true. Work. Busy. Blah. Boring. Tell me things. x

Jones: What kind of things? x

Jack: You know exactly what kind of things. You did them to me right after I'd cooked you dinner. Remember? x

Jones: No, sorry, I'm finding it hard to recall…x

Jack. Hard is about right. x

Jones: You're incorrigible. x

Jack: Yes. I am. I'll text you when I'm next in the big smoke, see if I can't jog that faulty memory of yours. x

With that Ianto put his phone down. Won't hold my breath.


Present day

Making his way to his desk he caught sight of himself in the glass of a door. His reflection was distorted, the tiny lines of wire running through the glass oddly segmented his features, but he was glad of the sharp suit he'd chosen in his panicked haze. Over the course of the training he'd toned up a lot, Ianto realised. The physical demands of the job were as challenging as the mental, which was one reason he was enjoying it so much. Running a hand through his hair he made his way to the desk which had become his main base of operations over the past couple of weeks. Now that training was mostly done the recruits had been given various jobs to do, and he was working on archiving some old case files.

He sat down, arranged his phone and looked appreciatively at the steaming cup of tea someone had placed on his desk. Molly. Must be. He and Molly McAllister had become firm friends over the past couple of months, both haunted by the honey trap experience they'd bonded over morning tea and coffee. Quickly becoming ritualised, he was glad of the hot brew and sipped at it as he opened the box file in front of him. Think I prefer coffee these days, he thought to himself absentmindedly. He leafed through the papers and old photographs, scanning the pages to get a gist of where it should be digitally stored before delving deeper into the text.

Oh. My. God.

One photograph stopped him short; he almost spluttered his tea all over the file but caught his laugh at the last minute and buried it deep within his throat. There in front of him was a picture of Jack. Jack Harkness in 1967. What? Crazy hair, even crazier clothes, covered in what looked like slime (but was hard to really tell from the black and white smudge of a picture) but definitely Jack.

This doesn't make any sense he thought, the man in the picture in front of him didn't look a day older or younger than he had the last time Ianto's eyes had rested upon his face.

What the f… his thoughts trailed off and he picked up his phone.


AN: Thanks for reading! How's Jack (James) going to explain this?!