It's New Year so expect fireworks. (Not that sort!) And fluff, of course. And angst.

This story takes place between Christmas and New Year - in the elastic space between the end of S2 and CoE.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Ianto turned rather stiffly away from the wardrobe. "Trying to find some clothes," he answered placidly. "Boxers aren't really suitable for daytime wear."

Jack was standing in the bedroom doorway, carrying a tray on which reposed breakfast. Toast and orange juice. He wasn't about to risk making coffee.

"Boxers are ideal for someone who's about to spend the day in bed," Jack scolded. "You should be resting."

Ianto smirked. "Not what you said last night."

Jack deposited the tray on the bedside table and came to stand behind his lover, sliding possessive arms around his waist and planting a noisy kiss on his shoulder. "I'll have you know," he announced, "the last time I was that careful, the other party had poisonous spines."

Ianto made a gagging sound. "Retcon."

"Hmmm?" Ianto's neck was one of the few places that hadn't been damaged. Jack was currently giving it his full attention and didn't really want to be distracted by what promised to be a fairly meaningless discussion.

"That's a disgusting image," Ianto explained. "I'd really like to forget it."

"It was fun, though," Jack persisted, in the tone Ianto knew meant something revolting was on its way. "Not as much fun as you, of course. I could just see you with a few nasty spines. In nasty places."

"Stop!" Ianto made an attempt to cover his hands with his ears, but dropped them as his abused muscles protested against the rapid movement.

Jack saw the wince. "Back to bed," he ordered firmly, seizing Ianto's hand and leading him back to the rumpled bed.

"That really doesn't mesh with taking it easy," Ianto teased, leaning back into the pillows Jack propped behind him.

"I was only offering breakfast," Jack said. "Though I could be distracted."

But distraction wouldn't be easy. Not in the daylight, not when he could see the checkerboard pattern of bruises across Ianto's torso. The imprint of the net that was all that had kept him alive. The warning of his mortality. Of the death that would come too soon, far too soon, even if by some miracle Torchwood spared Ianto long enough for him to die of old age. Don't think about it, Jack ordered himself. Lie to yourself. You're good at that. But the next thing he noticed was the splattering of red dots amongst the panorama of purple and yellow bruises. Fading now, thankfully.

"The rash is nearly gone," Jack noted with relief. He felt responsible for the rash. That was Gwen's fault, though. She was into herbal medicines at the moment and she'd given Jack some arnica cream to apply to Ianto's bruises. How was Jack supposed to know Ianto was allergic to arnica?

"It doesn't itch any more," Ianto said comfortingly. "Those pills Martha prescribed really helped."

They shared breakfast companionably, arguing about crumbs in the bed.

"I could have gone to the kitchen," Ianto grumbled, sweeping up crumbs with his hands and plopping them back into the tray.

"Martha said you had to rest," Jack countered.

"But I've been resting," Ianto grumbled. "For days now. I've read every book we own. Twice."

"I know you're bored," Jack agreed, pulling Ianto gently into his arms. "I wish I could keep you company, but I can't leave Gwen alone. There's a Rift spike predicted for this afternoon." He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Stirring Ianto's sense of duty was the last thing he'd intended.

Here it was, just what he should have known to expect. That speculative look in Ianto's eyes. The determined set of his jaw. One of these days, Jack told himself sternly, I'll have to learn to keep my mouth shut.

"I'm not taking the strong painkillers anymore. I could come into work, Jack."

"No."

"I'm sure I heard Martha say something about light duties," Ianto wheedled.

"I said, No." Jack purposely didn't look at him. Those blue eyes were too persuasive.

"You can't expect me to just snuggle up in bed with a book while you and Gwen are out there risking yourselves."

"We'd be in more danger if we had to look out for you as well," Jack said harshly. "You're not strong enough."

"I know I'm not fit for field work yet," Ianto persisted. "But I could stay at the Hub and coordinate. Like I used to. It's not safe, for either of you, out in the field with no back up."

Logic, too. Damn. Jack knew he was being unreasonable. But less than a week ago he'd believed Ianto was dead and the memory of it still chilled him to the core. Reasonable or not, Jack wanted Ianto at home, where he was safe. Not at Torchwood, half healed, slower and probably still determined to do everything he had before.

"We're managing," Jack said firmly.

"Yeah? And how many times have you died since Christmas?"

They stared at each other stubbornly, breakfast forgotten. Blue eyes locked on blue. Jack looked away first. He knew Ianto hated being fussed over. And he knew he was being overprotective.

"I'm just trying to look after you," he grumbled. "And you're making it impossible."

Ianto smiled faintly. He was much more comfortable with an annoyed Jack than a doting one. "I'm sorry," he said, taking Jack's hand in his. "But I'm not used to being looked after, Jack."

Jack looked up, trademark smile back in place, comforted by the strength of the hand gripping his. "This is where I say something cheesy about you getting used to it, right?"

Ianto chuckled. Jack was relieved that the laugh wasn't accompanied by the wince that had been there since Christmas. Maybe he was improving, after all.

"We don't do cheesy," Ianto reminded Jack sternly. They'd both needed reminding of that sort of thing, these past few days.

"Compromise?" Jack suggested, eyebrows lifting.

"Depends," Ianto answered cautiously.

"We call Martha. Get her to draft out a list of what you can and can't do, and you stick to it. OK?"

Ianto thought about it while Jack got dressed. It shouldn't be too hard to work around. He just had to take the list literally. Martha couldn't possibly think of everything. There'd be plenty of leeway.

"Seems fair," he agreed, when Jack returned.

Jack eyed Ianto suspiciously. He'd given up too easily. "And," Jack added, "You have to get her approval before you attempt anything she doesn't cover."

Ianto muttered something under his breath.

"You agreed too easily," Jack explained smugly. "You should have come up with a few more token protests."

"You've already won your point," Ianto grumbled. "You don't have to gloat as well."

Jack smiled. "So we give her today to compile your list of do's and don'ts, and you start tomorrow."

Ianto said something in Welsh that Jack was fairly sure wasn't flattering.

Jack chuckled as he made his way to the door. He rarely won a war of words with Ianto. And he couldn't resist a parting shot. "If you're a good boy and do what the doctor says," he called back over his shoulder. "I'll take you to the New Year's Eve fireworks."

The force behind the pillow Ianto threw at his head was comforting. Ianto was definitely getting stronger. And his aim hadn't been affected at all.

-XXX-

It was good to get back to the Hub. Just being inside the cavernous building made Ianto feel less like an invalid. Wearing a suit again made him feel more, well, more like himself. Even though Jack had to tie his tie for him. And fasten the cufflinks. Ianto didn't usually wear cufflinks to work. But when Jack was helping him get dressed, he'd brought out the pair he'd given Ianto for Christmas with a hopeful look in his eyes. Ianto had melted, of course. Not that he let it show. They didn't do sentiment. Well, not at work.

Gwen greeted him warmly. A hug, even. That was nice. And she noticed the cufflinks.

"You got the black ones, then," she said brightly.

Ianto told himself it was stupid to be disappointed. But he'd liked the thought that Jack had picked them out by himself.

"Gwen helped me decide," Jack said happily. "There was a pair with red stones, too."

"Garnets," Gwen supplied.

"And I nearly got those," Jack continued, "'Cause you look so good in red."

"But I thought you'd get more wear out of the onyx," Gwen finished. "Because black goes with everything."

"Thanks," Ianto muttered. He didn't know who he was thanking, or why. All he knew was hearing Gwen and Jack finishing each others sentences made his stomach churn. Which was ridiculous. So Jack hadn't picked out his gift by himself. What was the big deal about that? He should be pleased Jack cared enough to get someone else's advice.

Jack watched Ianto's mask slide into place and wondered what he'd done wrong this time.

He hadn't done anything. The problem was what he hadn't done. He hadn't told Ianto about all the medication he'd been taking. Jack was managing all that, as he had since the accident. First, because Ianto was too drugged to manage it safely himself, then partly from habit and partly because it made Jack feel as though he was contributing something. And Ianto trusted Jack, so he hadn't questioned what he gave him, or why.

And Jack trusted Martha. And he'd been feeling so damn guilty about causing the rash that made Ianto's injuries more uncomfortable. Bruises were bad enough, but itchy bruises had to be worse. When Martha had sent over a prescription with the warning 'these are strong, but they'll clear it up immediately' he hadn't spared a thought for the side effects of steroids. But large doses of steroids caused mood swings. Anxiety.

The Rift alarm sounded. "Splott," Gwen reported.

"Bloody Splott," Jack grumbled. He wanted to stay with Ianto and sort out whatever was wrong. But the Rift didn't give a damn about things like that. And Ianto didn't like him making a fuss. They could sort it out later.

"Off you go, then," Ianto said professionally. "I'll clear the traffic."

He decided to make himself a coffee while they got themselves sorted. Coffee would improve his mood. Coffee always made him feel better.

Ianto didn't know he'd been taking steroids all week. If he'd known, he'd have understood why little things annoyed him so much at the moment. Known not to take them seriously. And he definitely wouldn't be drinking coffee. Caffeine increased the side effects of steroids.

Ianto brought the steaming mug back to the desk. He logged into the CCTV. They were still in the car park. He sipped his coffee and wondered why the sight of Gwen and Jack laughing together as they climbed into the SUV bothered him so much.

Hope you like it so far. More soon-ish...