13.

"Oh my God!" Jamie gasped, breaking the silence of the early morning hours.

Tosh startled slightly and almost spilled some of her coffee. A bit sheepishly, she put the mug down and rubbed her eyes, strained by the harsh neon lamps of the boardroom. She forced herself to pay attention. Two hours of sleep hadn't been enough, but they hadn't been able to afford more. She looked at Jamie, who had brushed his fingers through his hair so much that it stood up in all directions. "What's wrong?"

He looked away from his laptop screen and up at her, as if he just realized that he wasn't alone in the room. "Nothing, I … I think I've got it."

"The location of the Rift disturbance?" she asked incredulously and hurried around the table to look at his screen.

Jamie pointed at his equations. "I put a whole bunch of filters over the pattern and sought out its origin."

Tosh gaped and turned his laptop towards her, dropping into the chair next to him. "Wow, that is impressive maths."

"Thank you," Jamie replied with a shy smile, "but I can't take all the credit. It's based on your Rift prediction programme."

"I can see that but what you did with it is impressive."

They smiled at each other, then Jamie shook his head as if to clear it. "Right! We have to call my boss, let him send a team to the location."

Tosh peered at the satellite image he'd pulled up, the location of whatever was responsible for the Rift quakes. It looked like a peaceful piece of wood just outside London. "Frylands Wood?"

"New Addington, near Croydon," Jamie explained. "About one hour away from London."

Tosh noticed that within the red circle pinpointing the source of the disturbance, something grey was peeking out between the trees. "What is that?"

"UNIT ammunition bunker, no longer in use," Jamie answered, dialling his mobile. "Perfect hiding place, isn't it?"

Tosh gave a nod. "The question is just: What for?"

xxx

Jack's grief was so thick that Ianto could practically taste it. He kept himself distanced, not giving into the feeling, just letting it burn away on a subconscious level that he'd somehow come to attune to Jack exclusively. Stepping closer to him, he took his hand, entwining their fingers and pressing himself to his side. When he looked down at Archie, he had to swallow against his own grief overwhelming him. Lying on a stretcher UNIT had wheeled into the antiques shop where they would be undisturbed, Archie looked oddly peaceful. There was no wound, no blood, no mark suggesting that he was anything else but fine.

Just the waxy tone to his skin and his face free of any expression told a different story.

Jack wiped his eyes with his free hand. "He always answered my questions," he stated softly, "and when I got the most, he just leaves."

"I'm so sorry, Jack," Ianto said softly.

Jack squeezed his hand and took a deep breath. "Give me a moment?"

"Sure." He left the shop through the curtain separating it from the base.

Ronson was in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with a thoughtful, sad expression on her face. When Ianto entered, she looked up at him. "Is it bad?"

Ianto shook his head. "Not too bad. No … no wounds or anything." He crossed his arms, suddenly losing his craving for a cup of tea. He hesitated for a moment, but finally felt compelled to say, "I'm sorry for your loss."

She gave a gentle smile. "Thank you." Stepping closer to him, she added, "It's funny. We're powerful, but when we take a certain form, we inherit its flaws. There's only one thing we never do and that's age."

Ianto stepped closer to her, his curiosity peaked. "Apparently, there was an accident in the 30s that caused Archie to age slower?"

Ronson chuckled. "Whatever vortex energy he soaked up in that accident would barely make a difference to his lifespan. We are filled to the brim with vortex energy." She looked towards the curtain at the far side of the room. "I guess it made a good excuse to explain away the fact he didn't age."

"Possibly," Ianto said. He took a breath. "I'll go upstairs to work for a bit. Would you let Jack know?"

"Of course. I'll stay and wait my turn."

Ianto nodded and started for the stairs, but Ronson stopped him by calling his name. He turned around.

"You love him," she said.

Ianto swallowed and gave a tilt of his head to imply a nod. Her words had been a statement, not a question. There was no point in lying to someone like her.

"How much?"

"Very much." He hesitated, wondering if he would be too forward, but then decided against being polite."Why do you ask? You must know just by looking at me."

Ronson's smile was indulgent, her dark eyes warm. "Child, I can only see your actions, not the motivation behind them." She sighed deeply. "He is what we call a fixed point in time. He will be there for a very long time to come. Not always like you know him now, but in different forms and in company of different people. Loving him is like loving time itself. He's steady and never-changing. You will die."

Ianto swallowed, dread forming a knot in his stomach. "I know."

"Archie saved your life. He did so for a reason. The reason might be him."

"It seems fitting, since without him, I'd be dead."

Ronson looked at him for a long moment. "You would die for him."

"Yes."

She smiled as if he'd said something silly. "Some people might find this foolish, considering he would get up ... and you wouldn't."

Ianto lifted his chin defiantly. "He shouldn't have to endure the pain of returning."

Her smile widened, became gentle and encouraging. "Thank you, Ianto. For being honest."

He nodded, then he went upstairs. For a minute, he stood in his room, undecided. He wasn't even sure he wanted to work as he'd said. If he was completely honest, mainly, he'd wanted to get away from Ronson. She scared him a bit. He felt bad, knowing she didn't mean any harm, but the way she looked at him felt piercing and knowing that she could see into his past as well as his future unsettled him.

He sat at the desk and opened the laptop, waking it from stand-by and then staring at the Torchwood logo rotating above the field asking for his password.

The door opened and closed and when Ianto turned around, Jack was standing leaning against it with closed eyes.

"All right?" he asked softly. There was anger simmering under the surface of Jack's grief, he could feel it like a wave crashing over him and he'd never been more grateful for the training he had received than in this moment.

Jack shook his head.

Ianto stood and walked over to him, kissing his lips gently. "It's okay to be angry," he said softly, putting one hand on the back of Jack's head and playing with the short hairs there.

Jack sighed. "I know. I just wonder why he did it. Why did he keep it a secret for all these years? Nothing stopped him from telling me about Michael later on."

"We might never know why he kept him from you," Ianto said. "But it might just have been a decision made out of necessity."

Jack looked at him for a long moment, then he shook his head and gave a sigh. "Ronson mentioned talking to you."

"Yes, just shortly."

"What about?"

Ianto smiled. "You, actually."

Jack returned his smile with a slowly growing grin. "Yeah?"

Ianto nodded. "She asked about my feelings for you."

Jack pulled him closer. "The ones we talk about? Or the ones we don't?"

Ianto's fingers tangled in Jack's braces, pulling them down to stretch across his chest. "Which ones do we ever talk about?"

As an answer, Jack settled his hands on Ianto's hips and kissed him. "The dirty ones," he whispered.

Ianto smirked. "I wouldn't call that talking."

Jack chuckled but Ianto could still feel his sadness beneath the teasing and the affection. He wrapped his arms around him in a hug and was relieved when Jack returned it. His grip was tight around Ianto's chest and hips and his breath brushed the skin of Ianto's neck where he'd tucked his face. He breathed in deeply and Ianto felt how he raised his head a bit to press a kiss to his neck. "I miss you," he said, softly as if he didn't even want Ianto to hear.

He smelled intoxicating, this close ... just as usual. And it had been too long. Arousal curled in Ianto's belly - Jack's as well as his own - and he swallowed. He'd half-expected this. Jack was always looking for life when he encountered the death of people he loved. As if he needed to reassure himself that he was real and here and not alone. That he was loved. Ianto turned into the embrace a little more and softly answered, "I miss you, too." It was true. Despite everything, Jack was the only person Ianto trusted so completely. He'd always had trouble forming deep bonds, but Jack made it easier, somehow. He kept his secrets and there were things Ianto would probably never know about him, but Jack cared about them – about him – and that was all the truth he needed.

"Ianto," Jack whispered. It was a question and a plea and a seduction.

And Ianto didn't really care much about the soldiers downstairs or the thin walls or Ronson.

He reached out and turned the key in the lock. "Yes," he answered. "Yes."

xxx

Colonel Houghton sounded grim over the phone and Jamie – sitting huddled in a chair of the boardroom opposite Tosh – looked ready to run. He remained seated, though, his posture stiffening when Houghton's voice came through the conference phone, "The building's empty."

Jamie shook his head, brushing a nervous hand through his hair. "That can't be. Did you check properly?"

"Excuse me?" Houghton asked, his voice becoming dangerously low. "What did you just ask me?"

Jamie's fingers tightened around the pen he was holding and he pulled his shoulders up.

Tosh felt sympathy for him and intervened, "What he meant to ask was whether there were any readings to be found, even if physically nobody was present."

Houghton huffed a breath. "Yes. I'll have my Lieutenant send them to you."

"Thank you."

Jamie leaned forward. "What did you find? Anything would help."

Houghton paused for a moment and gave a muffled order to someone, then he said, "Well, I'm standing here in the main storage room. It's empty, just like the rest of the bunker, but ... there are marks on the floor."

Tosh and Jamie exchanged a look and Jamie asked, "What kind of marks?"

"Remember how your mother got angry about the wardrobe you and Alex moved when you were children?"

Tosh's eyes widened in surprise at the implications of Houghton's words and Jamie blushed, avoiding her eyes by staring at his laptop. "Because the floor got scratched."

"That kind of marks."

Tosh cleared her throat, filing what she'd learned away mentally to ask Jamie later. "Something heavy was moved."

"Yeah ... all the way to the door." Houghton made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a reluctant huff of breath before he admitted, "You were right. This is the place, but whoever was here is gone."

"Thank you, Colonel," Tosh said and hung up. "So," she said to Jamie, who still wouldn't meet her eyes, "something heavy was moved." Her laptop announced the arrival of a new e-mail and she opened it to find the readings Houghton's team had taken in the bunker. She quickly inserted the signal into the search engine of their database and started a search. Torchwood sensors had picked up all kinds of noises over the decades … maybe they would find a match.

Jamie rubbed his brow and shuffled some print-outs before he softly said, "He's my step-father."

"Your last name is Wheeler," Tosh replied. "I didn't make the connection."

"I always introduce myself as Jamie Wheeler. My full name's Wheeler-Houghton, though," Jamie explained. "My step-father's a jerk, my step-brother is following in his steps. My mom sees nothing wrong with that."

Tosh bit her lip. "Why do you let him bully you so much?"

Jamie smiled sadly. "I love my job."

She frowned. "Would your step-father actually fire you for saying what you think?"

Jamie shook his head. "He's … he's not that much of a jerk. But work is bearable as it is now. I don't want to make it worse. Besides, my mom asked me to be … cooperative and she went through enough with dad dying and ..." He gave a nervous laugh. "I'm actually a bit of a coward."

Tosh's computer beeped, bringing them back to the matter at hand. With a comforting smile at Jamie, Tosh turned to the screen. "We've got a match for the energy signature," she said. "It fits with something we picked up two years ago." She opened the file and froze. "I remember that date. We went into lockdown due to a malfunction. Turned out that it was more than that, though." She didn't go into detail, knowing that it would be too hard to explain right now why Jack locked all of them into the Hub. He hadn't told them the truth back then. Tosh had only learned later on that Jack's younger self had been visiting together with the Doctor and Rose and he'd wanted to avoid his team seeing him. "The Rift opened very wide for a short period, almost caved in our roof." She closed her eyes and braced herself for what she was going to say next. "That energy signature was emanated by the TARDIS."

Jamie's eyes widened. "The Doctor's TARDIS?"

She nodded.

"But he's Earth's friend. Why would he let his ship cause that much damage?"

Tosh shook her head. "I don't know." She took a deep breath. "But we have to find out before it happens again."

xxx

Ianto bit his lip, his legs tightening around Jack's waist and his back arching off the bed. Jack pressed his hand against the small of Ianto's back and his forehead to rest against Ianto's, stilling completely. "It's okay," he whispered. "It's okay." He felt pain and instinctual fear scatter along his nerves and gasped, the air feeling too warm and thick to breathe, the dim light seemed unusually bright. Ianto's skin was hot under his palms, Ianto's fingers in his hair tugging almost painfully. Jack grimaced and pried them loose gently, entwining their hands and pressing them on the bed. He leaned down, catching Ianto's lips in a gentle kiss, rocking his hips to push forward.

Ianto's fingers tightened, squeezing Jack's, his other hand scratching down Jack's flank. Jack breathed against the feelings Ianto projected at him, remembering them from so long ago when he had been in the position Ianto was now. He still knew the face of the man he'd been with his first time, even if his name was gone. He remembered the control he'd had, the patience he'd shown, the way he'd smiled at him. He smiled at Ianto as well now and pushed in further.

"Oh God," Ianto muttered.

Jack froze, letting him adjust. His lips traced across Ianto's brows and down his cheek to his lips. His eyes closed, his lips a breath away from Ianto's and he focussed on his emotions. "I forgot," he whispered.

"Hm," Ianto uttered, his legs shifting. "What?"

Jack looked into his eyes. "What sex with an empath feels like."

Ianto chuckled.

Jack slid his hand from Ianto's back to his hip, gripping tight. He pulled back a bit, rolling his hips to slide inside again. Ianto moaned. Jack swallowed the sound with a kiss, going for a deeper thrust. The bed squeaked and Ianto laughed, uttering a reprimanding "sh". Jack's next thrust made him go still, though, his legs tightening around him, his back arching off the bed, and the wave of warm, arousing, lustful emotions crackling along their connection was almost enough to make Jack come. He thrust again, catching Ianto's moan with his lips and pressing them against Ianto's forehead next to soothe the focussed frown there. He knew he wasn't quite there … almost, though. His grip re-aligned on instinct, his hand on Ianto's hip adjusting just so to raise him a bit, his next thrust going deeper.

Ianto cried out and slapped a hand across his mouth. Jack smiled against the skin of his neck, biting gently. "Right there?" he asked, breathing the words into Ianto's ear, groaning when Ianto's fingers found his hair again, tightening painfully.

"Yes," Ianto panted and he met the next thrust by raising his hips himself, letting out a sound not unlike a sob. "Oh God," he whispered. "Right there. Please."

Jack obeyed and thrust again, then again, picking up his pace. Their connection thrummed, driving him beyond coherency, because this was far more than it had ever been before, went far deeper. It was more than sex, more than Ianto giving him his virginity, more than the unusually deep understanding they had of each other.

"Jack," Ianto moaned. "Jack." His fingers brushed Jack's jawline, forcing him into another deep kiss. Ianto's orgasm was so close. Jack could feel it right down to his core, could feel his own muscles tightening in reaction. He thrust harder, stopping, holding back, and Ianto came, panting into Jack's mouth, tightening around him and even if they hadn't been connected empathically, Jack doubted that he wouldn't have come right this moment anyway.

He buried his face in Ianto's neck and thrust a last time, crying out. He slumped, his lips forming Ianto's name against his skin, his hand slowly releasing its death grip on Ianto's hip. Ianto gave a soft moan, his legs falling to the mattress. Jack felt him relax, felt him be flooded with warmth and happiness and a feeling of safety. He closed his eyes and pecked a kiss against Ianto's pulse point, then he raised his body and pulled out, falling to the bed beside Ianto. He turned back towards him immediately, though, seeking his lips in a lazy, messy kiss. His finger trailed along Ianto's reddened cheek, their eyes seeking out each other.

They had never talked much immediately after sex. Almost as if they'd been waiting for this moment, as if they'd known that Ianto's empathy would help them trade the words they didn't want to utter. Jack was aware that Ianto loved him. Feeling it was something else entirely. He wasn't sure what Ianto felt in return, his heart and soul sometimes feeling so used up after his overly long life that he wasn't sure he could feel deeply anymore … but Ianto smiled.

He entwined their hands and squeezed.