Ok, I know I promised I was back, but… stuff happened. Namely I scaled my left hand after my right arm got better and then I just had no plot bunny energy, plus I decided to go back try and figure out what the dates were for the 'present' times, as I felt saying present was sloppy. So chapter 1 began on the 21st of August 2008 and we are now at the 16th September 2008, and we're on day 27.

To make up for the length of time this has taken me, it's an extra long chapter, hopefully with enough to keep you going and also, if people are interested, I'm currently planning a sequel. This fic's all planned out and the sequel is –in theory- planned too. So let me know what you think!

Chapter 21

(16th September 2008)

"Jack, what the hell do you mean you've just been served?" demanded Gwen, looking from him to the paper in his hand. "What just happened?"

"You saw what happened, Gwen. Michaela came in and basically said that because Ianto reported me to Torchwood Two, I'm under investigation as my capabilities as a leader have been brought into question. So she's gonna have to do a complete review of my actions since I became leader, which will involve reading every report ever made, observing us in everything we do and interviewing all of you, plus Ianto and me about every aspect of our lives affected by working here."

"She's can't do that! Can she?"

Jack brandished the letter under Gwen's nose, making her flinch, "According to this she can. She can do whatever she wants, pretty much."

Tosh took the letter and read through it. She'd gone very white and was grey by the time she looked up. "Jack… if she… what'll happen to us if you, if you fail the review?"

Jack looked at Toshiko and his face softened, but he was blunt, "I don't know. Retcon? Imprisonment? God only knows. This is why I hate dealing with UNIT, the bureaucrats and anyone else who thinks they know how the Rift and aliens should be handled. Ianto's much better at-" Jack cut himself off and took the letter back. "Look… you should all just go. There're… things I need to start sorting out if she'd gonna start tomorrow."

"But Jack-" protested Gwen.

"Just go!" snapped Jack, pointing at the cog wheel Michaela had just exited. Then he spun away from them and stormed into his office, slamming the door. The then windows were blocked by the blinds. The three teammates looked at each other aghast. Tosh looked terrified, Owen look upset and Gwen looked livid. Still reeling from what they'd learned, they all gathered their things and left the Hub, one by one.

Jack meanwhile, was covering his face with his hands, elbows resting on his desk as he tried to control his breathing so he wouldn't loose control. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't loose this team! He was having enough trouble functioning without Ianto, never mind the idea of being separated from all of the team forever. As for being locked up forever in a UNIT prison, it didn't bear thinking about. He'd seen what a few weeks did to Tosh. What was a few weeks compared to forever? What's more, he couldn't believe Michaela was the one doing this to him. He'd thought she liked him, trusted him And how the hell did she know Ianto, never mind well enough to justify that rather impressive slap. It wasn't the worst slap he'd ever received, but considering it had come from someone he'd thought of as a meek, lonely kitten, with all the courage of a mouse, it was like a punch from a concrete fist.

As he looked down at the letter, seeing Archie's bigger, stylish signature at the bottom and the neat, small blue one next to it. Jack had become very acquainted with that writing over the course of a single week… among other things, he thought back to the games he'd played.

(13th June 2005)

The meeting had resumed after the lunch, and after about twenty minutes of mischievous thoughts, Jack suddenly found himself under Yvonne's irritated gaze.

"Captain Harkness, can you please explain yourself?"

'Now if that isn't the question of the millennia.' thought Jack in amusement, even as he said, "I dunno, what do you wanna know?" and flashed his best flirty grin at the woman. Yvonne gave him a withering glare as Archie sniggered to himself. Suzie rolled her eyes.

"I'm talking about your records, your reports. They're in such a shambles, it's as if a group of half-witted monkeys wrote them."

Suzie twitched next to him, and Jack had to grit his teeth for a moment before he could respond.

"We're a bit busy taking care of the Weevils and various other alien creatures and objects that come through the Rift. There are only four of us after all."

"That's not my concern. My concern is that all three Torchwood bases are up to scratch on their reports and records so that all useful artefacts can be catalogued and put to use for the good of Queen and Country."

Jack was fairly sure Archie muttered 'bollocks!' under his breath. Yvonne ignored him. "In any case, we can't proceed until these records are brought up to acceptable standards."

"What does that mean?" asked Archie, looking alarmed.

"It means until Captain Harkness sorts them out, none of us are leaving this hotel. And from the state of them, it'll probably take at least a week."

"Then he can 'ave Michaela help him!"

Michaela's reaction was comically cartoonish. Her head snapped up and her eyes bugged out like she'd just stepped out of a Tom and Jerry short, as Archie continued, "The girl's a genius with records and paperwork, she'll sort Harkness straight in no time. Let 'er and 'im have this place for a few hours and the whole thing'll be sorted."

Jack was amused at how red Michaela was going as every pair of eyes turned to look at her. Yvonne raised an eyebrow at the young woman, scrutinising her, judging her .

"Ms. Murphy, do you think you could handle this problem by the end of the day?" Her voice was like ice.

Michaela opened her mouth and stuttered some sort of noise, glancing at Jack and Archie, before snapping her mouth shut and nodding. Yvonne looked at her like she was a bug as she got to her feet. As the others scrapped their chairs and got to their feet, Jack winked at Michaela and, even with the sound of rustling papers and feet and such, he still heard her terrified little whimper. Suzie had to rush out sniggering to herself, while Jack bit his lip to restrain his laughter.

Then Jack watched with mild curiosity as Archie's hand rested on Michaela's shoulder for a brief moment and she glanced up at the man, who smiled at her, patting the shoulder. She gave a small smile and nodded at him. Then pulled at her notebook and pen and stood up, walking around the table and pulling the chair next to Jack away from him before sitting in it. Jack immediately scooched closer and rested his clasped hands on the desk. He saw Michaela gulp as the door shut behind him.

There was a delightfully awkward silence as Jack waited for her to start them off. After all, she was the one who had to fix the problem. Finally, she let out a huff of air and said,

"Um, Captain, we're gonna need your reports."

Jack smiled at her, even though she was looking at the notebook's new page, avoiding his eyes. "Sure, I'll get them."

He grabbed a box and lifted it up, setting it in front of her. Michaela definitely groaned inwardly at the sight of it.

"A-Are they in chronological order?"

"Oooh doubtful. Suzie probably just threw them in any old way. We'll have to go through them all…" Jack leaned closer, enunciating very carefully, "One… by… one."

Michaela swallowed and looked up at him, finally meeting his eyes. She was nervous, but also annoyed. She knew he was trying to rattle her. Jack flashed her a grin. Something seemed to stiffen her spine and she stood up, grabbing the box and opening it, pulling out the first few reports, piling them up.

"Right then," Tucking a lock of hair that had escaped from her chignon behind her ear, she cleared her throat, "Let's get started."

The reports really were in bad condition. Jack had to really think to recall a few of the incidents, and Michaela, he had to admit, was very good at her job. She had the reports looking perfect by the time she was through with each one. Owen's were the worst by far. One actually said, 'Read Tosh's. It'll have everything you need.' It wasn't even dated, but Michaela was able to figure out what he was referring to and she wrote the report based on Jack's words and Suzie and Tosh's reports. Jack made a mental note to talk to the medic.

"You're pretty good at this." Jack said after about five hours of mind-numbing boredom, with the pile now almost gone. He'd been slowly inching his foot closer to hers over the time and now he was less than a hair's breadth from her. And she knew it because her shoulders had tensed again. Jack could smell the sweetness of her perfume mingled with her apple shampoo. It was nice.

"It's my job, Captain." she said, her free hand clenching on top of the table, even as she kept writing in neat, small, blue writing. "You should always be good at your job."

"I agree. It's important. Particularly in the line of work we do." Jack put his hand on the arm of her chair and lowered his voice, making it a little deeper. "If we were bad at our jobs, someone could get hurt, even die. It's very important to be good at your job."

Michaela's green eyes were quick to look at his hand and then up at him. She visibly jumped as she realised just how close Jack was to her. Jack had put about an inch between their faces and he leaned forward to close it, a little smirk on his lips as he moved. Michaela leaned away at once, twisting in the chair so her knees bumped his, trying to reinforce the distance. Her eyes were huge again, and in seconds she was twisting right out of the chair and leaning back over the table as Jack crowded her, directed her, still smiling. Finally, she was almost flat against the table and Jack managed to close the distance and press his lips to hers.

It wasn't much of a kiss, if it could even be called that, considering Michaela wasn't moving her lips, only letting out quick little breaths that Jack could feel against his own chest as he stretched to reach her. He had to admit this wasn't quite working the way he'd hoped. Usually his tactics would make his targets crack and give in, enjoying the passion of it all, giving in and going wild.

Jack moved his hand and touched the inside of her knee. And Michaela came alive underneath him, but not the way he'd hoped. Letting out a terrified squeal, she shoved him away and ran out of the room, leaving all her stuff behind and leaving Jack thinking he may not have approached this quite right.

~*~

(16th September 2008)

Owen sat in his home, holding Doctor Bear in his hands, wondering how he'd managed to fuck up so badly. Now the team could be torn apart. Wasn't it enough that his brother was completely crazy and hated him? Apparently not. Now his remaining family was going to be taken away from him.

Owen downed another glass of scotch, but it wasn't helping to blur the memory of the look on Jack's face as he'd realised just what was happening. God he'd looked so horrified. Owen was certainly feeling that way. What had he done to Jack? After everything Jack had done for him…

Jack had saved him. In some ways Jack had broken him first and then put him back together and opened his eyes to the big, terrifying reality that was the Universe. But even though loosing Katie had destroyed him, Torchwood had saved him by giving him a chance to try and save others where Katie couldn't be saved. In doing so, Jack had given Owen a family. A dysfunctional, intense crazy family, but a family nonetheless. It had even given back the only one left of his biological family, even if things had been better when they'd pretended otherwise. Jack had given Owen so much and how had he repaid him? By shooting him, by leading a mutiny against him, by having a heavy hand in maybe destroying the man's relationship with Ianto, by maybe causing the destruction of the team? Oh yeah, Owen had really done it this time.

Why hadn't he listened to Ianto? Why hadn't he let it alone?

Because, he acknowledged to himself at last, by being stuck with him as a team member, Owen had come to love his brother again. And when he'd learned what Ivor had done, all the hate had dissolved. Now all Owen wanted was to fix things with Ianto.

But now, now Owen was angry, at who he wasn't sure, about this review. What did that ginger paper pusher know about what things were like here in Cardiff? And to question Jack as a leader… it made Owen's blood boil.

The idea of Jack being locked up because of Owen terrified him. Jack had been a ridiculously patient father-figure for Owen. Owen would not loose anymore people he loved.

And if that self-important woman though she could ruin them, she'd another thought coming.

Owen would not make things easy for her.

~*~

(13th March 2005)

Jack felt guilty. Normally he wouldn't, especially over an over-reaction like that Micka-Mouse –his new nickname for the woman- had had but she'd run out so fast, that Jack felt bad for scaring her. He wouldn't apologise; he'd meant no harm, just having some fun, but he decided to make she was ok.

It turned out, like a real mouse, Michaela was hard to find after a scare. She wasn't with Archie –who'd given him the bizzarest look ever when he'd asked about her- or in her room, which Jack knew for sure because he used his wrist strap to unlock the door and peek inside. With nothing better to do, and having sent Suzie, who'd laughed her head off upon seeing him, guessing what had happened, and then proceeding to mock him, to torment Yvonne, Jack kept looking. He would admit there was a small part of him that was determined to get Michaela into bed now that Suzie had teased him about not being so irresistible in his old age.

At last, he found her. She was on the grand terrace. In the dark Jack would have missed her if it weren't for her white blouse. She was on her phone, her free hand idly playing with a leaf of a rose bush. As Jack watched her, he couldn't help but notice how sad and small her voice was as she spoke.

"-not so bad, just lots of paperwork. And Ms. Hartman is her usual charming self… Because I'm afraid if I call her Yvonne, she'll put a hex on me…" She smiled a little, turning on her heels and tilting her head into her hand cradling the phone. "Yeah, maybe so. Anyway, um, I'm gonna be here all week if you wanna meet up at… oh." Her smile fell. "Well, maybe I could, I dunno, meet you two somewhere. I mean, Lisa sounds nice… ah. Well, what about Saturday, I could- … oh, oh ok. Well, maybe another time then. Have fun camping. I… yeah, bye."

Michaela hung up and closed her eyes, looking humiliated and hurt. "Amadán." she hissed, looking angry with herself. Jack could only guess that word was Irish for idiot.

"Ex-boyfriend?" he asked knowingly, leaning against the door frame. Michaela nearly jumped out of her skin, and she didn't relax when she saw who it was speaking. She swallowed hard.

"More a friend really now." Her voice was sad and shaky. "It's a wee bit complicated."

Jack chuckled "Isn't it always?"

Michaela held her phone in two hands, like she was praying and she perched on the low stone wall, staring at the ground. Licking her lips, she blurted out, "He –he's got a new girlfriend. Completely crazy about her. They've only been together a few months, but –Jesus!- I bet that he'd tear the world apart to keep her."

Jack could hear the unsaid question. 'Did I ever mean that much to him?' This just made things so much easier for him. Putting on a sympathetic, yet ironic-what can you do?- smile he stuck his hands in his pockets and swaggered across the terrace to sit beside her. A small intake of breath was the only reaction Michaela gave to the action.

"Sounds like young love to me." said Jack, leaning back a little. Michaela nodded.

"He fell fast. I… I was surprised by it."

"Yeah, you'd only just broken up?"

"Sorta, it'd been like, what, two months or something before he started talking about her."

"Wow, two months isn't a long time if you and him were serious." Jack honestly didn't care, but if he wanted to get her into bed, he'd have to get her to open up to him. Asshole exes were very useful in this area.

"We… it was… y'know, special."

'They always think that.' thought Jack, smiling to himself. He always found that cute. Michaela looked at her phone, probably hoping for a call back. As Jack looked at her he admire the pretty little pout on her lips. After all, while she wouldn't turn heads that much, she wasn't ugly. And right now she was lonely, vulnerable. Jack's.

Reaching out, Jack gave Michaela's knee a faux-comforting/friendly pat. It was the same knee he'd touched earlier. Michaela's eyes snapped up to meet his. Jack froze, pretending to be surprised. It meant his hand stayed on her knee. Michaela's eyes were shiny, needy, as she leaned forward hesitantly. Jack schooled his features to look understanding as he leaned closer. But he let Michaela close the distance.

This kiss was much better than the first one. Of course, it was nothing spectacular, Michaela lacked finesse, but Jack was more than willing to teach her. He parted her lips and pushed his tongue into her mouth, colliding with hers as Michaela started in surprise. Jack grabbed the back of her head and held her still as he ran his tongue over hers and then up to the roof of her mouth. Michaela shivered in his grip. Jack had won.

Without breaking the kiss, Jack stood up and pressed against Michaela, pinning her to the stone wall by pressing his hips against hers. He put an arm around her waist, his other hand gently tipping her head back to accommodate the change in height difference and to get better access. Michaela let her head rest in his hand, her mouth open to him to do with what he wanted. When need for air finally made Jack pull back he grinned down at her. Her lips, still pouty, were all swollen and shiny, and her eyes were dazed as she looked up at him almost in astonishment. Jack knew then, that, if he wanted to he could probably just bend her over the wall and she'd let him. But a bed would allow more time for more fun.

"C'mon." he murmured in her ear, grabbing her hand and pulling her back into the hotel. Michaela had to almost skip to keep up with him. Jack pulled her into the lift and pressed the button for his own floor. He glanced at Michaela and saw a frown forming on her face. Was she reconsidering? Like hell she was now!

Jack put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her against the wall and kissing her hard. Then he let his right hand travel down her curves to slide up her inner thigh under her skirt, stroking the very soft skin halfway up. Michaela whimpered and pulled at his neck, hair and shoulders, trying to get under his clothes. Jack grinned to himself. The mouse was turning into a purring kitten. It'd been easier than he'd expected. Thank God for asshole exes.

It didn't take long to get to his room, and it took even less time to get all of Michaela's well made but not best-fitting clothing off of her. Except her skirt. Jack had been right to think it would look lovely all bunched at her hips like it was. As he lay on top of her, his own clothes gone, Michaela wrapped her legs around his waist and tried to get at his lips again. Jack couldn't help but think that activities and amusement for the week may well have been taken care of for him. Yup, thank god for asshole exes.

~*~

(30th November 2002)

"Ok, I don't know what I was expecting, but this wasn't it." Ianto got out of the SUV and propped himself against it, admiring the huge building before him. It had been meticulously preserved, although the grounds had the beginnings of unkemptness. "I didn't think building's like this still existed. What is it, 18th –late 17th century?"

"Late 17th, yeah. How'd you know that?" Michaela sounded impressed as she walked around the car to the back and opened the boot. Ianto looked over the building again before joining her, careful to avoid her eyes. He was still uncomfortable about the way she'd touched him, even if it had been innocent.

"I read a book on architecture when I was 14. Really liked all the stuff about mansions. Used to wish I could live in one someday.

"On your own? Hell of a cleaning job."

Ianto grinned as he gripped the object, preparing to lift it. "Hence why I said 'used to'. Gave it up by the time I was 17."

"Ah, fair enough then."

Together, they heaved the object out of the car and carried it towards the building. Michaela kicked the door, which seemed to unlock itself, and swung open.

'Neat!' thought Ianto as he readjusted his grip. The mansion was surprisingly warm and welcoming with marble floor, carpeted grand staircase, and the walls covered in paintings and stuffed heads.

"Up we go, c'mon." Michaela backed up the stairs, bits of mud flaking out of her hair and landing on the carpet of the stairs. Ianto groaned as they started up. Michaela huffed, "C'mon, we don't wanna be carrying this thing all day. We're not Laurel and Hardy and this ain't a music box."

"Ugh! Another nice mess you've gotten me into!" Ianto smirked as she laughed. At last the reached the top of the stairs and went down a corridor into a room. A big, strong looking desk gleamed invitingly at them in the setting sunlight coming through the window. With a final grunt, they lifted the object and set it down on the desk. It held.

"Phew! Dunno how I'm gonna store that away." sighed Michaela, pulling at the mud in her hair.

"I could help you." Ianto couldn't believe he'd just said that. But he didn't want to leave just yet.

"Oooh no. My boss won't if I get you to help me like this, but no way will he let you into the archives. Thanks though.." As she spoke, Michaela went to another door and pulled it open. A sandy blur shot out of the room and started running around, yapping and jumping up at them. Ianto smiled. "Dubhtach stop it!" Michaela's voice was firm. The dog skidded to a halt in front of her. Panting it looked up at her and barked. Michaela bent forward and seemed to pinch its neck. The dog fell quiet and lower its head.

"Why'd you do that?" demanded Ianto.

"I'm not hurting her, but she can't be like that. She's trying to dominate us and if I don't want her running around and being out of control when she grows up, then I need to be the alpha dog to her and that means treating her like she's a dog, not a human." Her tone was defensive.

Ianto frowned, confused, "What?"

"Have you ever noticed that small dogs are always yappy and grumpy?"

"A bit, I guess."

"It's because they're indulged in their dominate behaviour, like when they jump up at you. It's them saying, 'I own you'. To have a good relationship with a dog, I have to be in charge, right from the start. It'll be harder to train her when she's fully grown."

"How big is she gonna get?"

"When she's fully grown, she'll be taller than you on her back legs."

"… Fuck! What breed is she?"

"Irish Wolfhound." Michaela smiled sheepishly. Ianto pressed his lips together, repressing a smile.

"Of course she is."

Michaela blushed, crouching down and scratching behind the dog's ears. Ianto's smile broke out as crouched down and tickled the pup under the chin. The pup's tail wagged enthusiastically.

"What's her name again?"

"Dubhtach."

"Irish name?"

"What do you think?"

Ianto was tempted to ask her about her obsessiveness with Irish stuff, but he kept it to himself. As his hand went up the pup's ears, his finger's brushed Michaela's. Michaela froze and Ianto stopped breathing as, by their own violation, his fingers rubbed against hers just enough to send his brain into overdrive. Dubhtach's tail kept wagging as Michaela finally pulled her hand away, putting it into her lap, looking at the wooden floor. Ianto coughed, letting his hand drop. Michaela sighed, straightening up.

"I've got to examine this thing, and file a report before I can store it."

"Ok." Ianto stood up, stuffing his hands into his pockets as his eyes followed Michaela as she walked around the table and pulled out and pen and paper. Coughing and flicking some hair out of her eyes, she put pen to paper. Then paused and looked up at him.

"Why don't I show you to the shower first. You can clean up and I can get this done."

"That'd be great, thanks." Ianto scratched at the dried mud on his arm.

"C'mon then. Dubhtach, come."

Ianto and pup both followed Michaela to a stately bathroom, fancier than any Ianto had ever seen. Michaela put towels on the modern radiator and found clean clothes that looked like they'd fit him, while Ianto stood and felt awkward.

"You don't have to do all this, you know."

"It's grand. I don't mind helping out people I actually like." Michaela blushed as she spoke, then hurried out, herding Dubhtach with her. Ianto stood, rooted to the spot for a few moments, a smile relaxing his face. She liked him.

There was a knock at the door, "Hey, Ianto!"

"Yeah?"

"Just thought you might like to know, Queen Victoria probably used that loo there! Y'know, when she took the pole outta 'er arse!" Michaela laughed and Ianto swivelled his head to stare at the loo. "Enjoy your shower." Her footsteps faded away. Ianto chuckled and removed his clothes, getting into the shower. As he scrubbed away the mud under the high pressured, delightfully hot shower, he wondered why Michaela didn't live here. Did anyone? And as he wrapped a warm, fluffy towel around himself, he thought if no one else wanted to live here, he wouldn't mind.

Soon he was dry, warm and dressed. The clothes were baggy but well made and Ianto wriggled inside them, enjoying the soft comfort. The reminded himself not to get too used to this. Trouble was, he was already getting used to her.

Ianto went back into the other room. Michaela was bent over the weird object, now free of the mud it had collected. She was running what looked like a laser scanner over it, or so he guessed. For the briefest moment Ianto wanted to walk up and put his arms around her, and just hold her, feel the warmth of her body heat, find it nice and comforting. He shook it off at once.

"Hey."

"Heya." Michaela glanced over her shoulder at him, smiling. "Much better. I'm almost done with this and then I can bring you back to the city."

Some of the warmth left Ianto's body. Back to the city? Back to being meaningless, with no one? Back to being cold all the time? Fuck! He'd gotten used to this way too quick. What was he doing? Oh god!

"Ianto, you ok?" Michaela's voice cut through his panicked thoughts. Looking up Ianto realised she'd turned to face him and was looking at him with concern. Shit, did she care? Really?

"What do you care?" Ianto demanded, desperate for an answer. Michaela started in surprise.

"What'd you mean? Why wouldn't I care? Ianto what's wrong?"

"You don't even know me!" Christ, it was like the floodgates had opened, releasing pent up neediness and anxiety.

Now Michaela looked alarmed, backing up a little. "I… I thought I was getting to know you. what, what's gotten into you? What's wrong?"

"Everything! This isn't right, you can't just-"

"Micka!"

"Crap!" squeaked Michaela, as the deep voice boomed again, closer this time. "My boss! He can't see you! You have to hide." She grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the door.

"I thought you said he wouldn't mind."

"So long as I only told him about it after you were gone."

"Micka! Where are ye?"

The voice scared the shit out of Ianto. It was deep, loud, thick. So he did the only thing he could think of. He hid under the desk. Michaela shifted two high chairs in front of him, helping to obscure him. Just in time too, as heavy footsteps entered the room.

"There ye are ma wee Micka."

"Hi Archie!" Michaela squeaked. She was crap at playing casual. "Didn't realise you were here."

"Had to have a conference with Ms. No-Hartman. Woman's not human, I'm telling ye!"

Michaela gave a nervous chuckle. All Ianto could see were her legs and feet, still clad in those stupid yellow wellies.

"Ah!" said Archie, his tan workboots stomping into view as he came closer to the desk. "And what've we here Micka? 's this that signal ye picked up."

"Um, Yup! Just cataloguing it now."

"Hrm…" Archie leaned over the desk, probably to examine the thing. Ianto pressed against the back of the desk. "Looks heavy."

"Yeah, it is. Like a hippo skin."

'A what?' thought Ianto, throwing a bewildered look up at the top of the desk.

Archie chuckled, "A whole tonne, ma wee encyclopaedia?"

"Yeah. Well, felt like it anyway."

Archie's feet turned around so was now facing Michaela, who'd been behind him. "Heavy then. Too heavy for ye ta carry on your own."

"Well… I had help."

"Aye?" Archie was questioning but not surprised. Ianto held his breath.

"Ianto, you know, that guy I met, he helped me carry it."

"Hrm, Ianto? Ianto? Iantoooo, Ah, pale, tall, skinny, black hair?"

"Yeah –wait, how'd you know that?"

"Well it's easy when you see the person out the window."

Ianto's eyes widened and he shivered a little. Michaela shifted on her feet. Archie chuckled, an almost paternal sound.

"Now then lad-"

BANG!

"Shit!" Ianto jumped out of his skin and cracked his head on the desk. Pain exploded in his brain and he saw stars.

"-out ye come now." Archie peered under the table that he'd slapped, grinning at Ianto. Amid the birds flying around his head, Ianto somehow decided that he like this guy. Feeling very stupid, he crawled out from under the desk, getting to his feet. Archie gave him a look over and then looked at Michaela, who blushed and pouted.

"I broke the rules, I panicked."

"Clearly Micka." Archie shook his head, looking at Ianto. "You'd think she'd know by now that I'm not a stickler for rules. She's the one who knows them off by heart. Frankly so long as the job gets done I don't give a shit how. And she likes ye, you're fine by me."

Ianto blushed and Michaela turned crimson. Archie squared his shoulders and, looking at Ianto square in the eyes, he said, "Can ye keep a secret boy?"

Ianto hated being called 'boy'. Ivor had called him that. Swallowing hard, he nodded. "Can ye be trusted?"

Again, Ianto nodded.

"Hm!" Archie looked at Michaela, who looked at the ground. Ianto watched as Archie gave the Irish woman a knowing, fatherly look. Then he cleared his throat. "Then you're fine by my professional opinion. So long ye keep your mouth shut about anything ye may see here, ye can stay as long as ye want, provided Micka knows where ye are at all times and ye obey her restrictions in this place. Sound good?"

With the strong feeling he'd just been drawn into some weird cult, Ianto nodded one more time.

"Oi! I had to jump through feckin hoops to get in here!" sulked Michaela, the relief obvious on her face.

"Aye, ye did. But you wanted secret info. The lad here just has to keep his trap shut about what he may see. There's a difference. Now, I'm off to Jack and rant about Hartman. You finish up here, order dinner or something, and for God's sake have a shower Micka! Your Irish pride's all covered in muck." Archie clapped Ianto hard on the shoulder, didn't catch his flinch and strode out of the room. Ianto glanced at Michaela, looking away when she met his eyes. The silence stretched between them until Ianto broke.

"Irish Pride?"

"Mo hair." Michaela mumbled, gesturing at the auburn strands. "Archie's very Scottish, hates the English, loves the Irish, and says I should wear my hair with pride."

"Ah… what's his view on the Welsh?"

"Indifferent I think. Hasn't mentioned them much during his nationalist rants. He did say once that the Welsh had been beaten into bitter submission by the English and their only form of attack against them was speaking Welsh in shops whenever an English person shows up."

"Better not tell him I'm half English then."

"Are ye really?"

"Ianto flushed, "Well, my dad is… was English, and Mam was Welsh. I feel Welsh because I grew up near Newport, but my brother is completely English."

"Huh. No offence to your brother, but you definitely got the better deal."

"Of course you'd say that. It's practically the law in your country to hate the English."

Michaela narrowed her eyes, clearly unsure if he was teasing her or not. Ianto could admit there was a tiny part of him that was serious. Finally Michaela said,

"We try to keep it to the rugby pitch."

Ianto perked up at once, "You like rugby?"

"It's the only sport I watch."

"Same. I… I used to watch the Six Nations from the door of the sitting room. Ivor ignored me during the matches, so long as I hid when it was over."

Michaela looked and there was no pity in her eyes, only kindness and care.

"Blaine liked football. He'd make me sit at his feet like a dog. If his team won, he'd probably fuck me. If they lost, he'd beat me, then fuck me."

Ianto nodded, horrified as he imagined it, trying not to let it show on his face. This back and forth of titbits about Blaine and Ivor wasn't a competition of suffering, it was a sharing of pain, of understanding. Michaela dropped her eyes and went over to the desk.

"Here, you go on into that room there, relax a bit. If it's cold, gimmie a shout and I'll put the fire on."

"You don't have to-"

"Would ye ever stop saying that! I don't offer to do things unless I want to do them." Michaela's tone was firm, even though she didn't look up.

"Ok, sorry."

"Is ceart go leor, it's ok. Just quit being polite. I think we're past that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Will you take Dubhtach with you? Keep her out of trouble."

"Sure, c'mon Dubhtach." Ianto clicked and waggled his fingers at the pup who jumped to her paws and scampered after him. Michaela called after him to shut the door. If the other room was sparkly decorated, this was crammed. Portraits hung on the walls, save for the biggest wall, which was a giant bookcase. There were large cushioned couches and seats, which looked very inviting, an ornate marble fireplace, with what appeared to be a large plasma screen TV above instead of a mirror or picture. The carpet was deep red, with golden patterns. The walls were red, with white patterns.

In his borrowed clothes and shabby shoes, Ianto felt awkward as he tentatively approached the bookshelves. The smell of old books permeated the room and the leather bound leaves cried out age and knowledge. Some titles Ianto had read, some he didn't recognise and a handful he found in the bottommost corner were new and clearly Michaela's Titles like, 'The Ancient Celts', 'Understanding what it means to be Irish', 'Myths and Legends', 'A Short History of Nearly Everything' summed up what Ianto had gotten from her about what she was like. She liked history. Ianto smiled. So they had more in common than shitty pasts and rugby.

Another book caught his eyes. 'The Secret History of Lucifer.' Curious, Ianto pulled it out and sat in the corner, back against the wall. After a few moments, Dubhtach climbed into his lap and relaxed, closing her eyes. Ianto stroked her head absentmindedly as he read. He was halfway through the book when Michaela came in.

"Brr! It's feckin freezing in here. Ianto why didn't you say, where are ye? Ianto!"

"Here!" called Ianto, still reading. Michaela clambered onto the couch and leaned over the back to spot him.

"Where're you doing down there?"

"Reading."

"Reading what?"

"History of Lucifer."

"Oh… What'd you think?"

"It's interesting. Never really thought much about Saten or the idea that he represented human free will."

"You mean Lucifer does. But he's not Saten like people see him with hooves and pitchfork."

"Yeah. To be honest, I never really bought into religion or God's existence. How can you believe in God when you understand the concept of the Big Bang, and accept life as an accident?" Ianto glanced up at Michaela, noting she'd washed and changed. Her wet hair was hanging like rattails around her face. She also looked grumpy.

"I don't think the Big Bang has to erase God. I may not buy into religion, but I'm the fence about God. Plus, I hate that whole sibling rivalry between religion and science."

"You think science and religion are brothers?"

"Or sisters considering how bitchy they can be with each other."

"How are they related? One's all about lies and the other's all about truth."

"No, both are trying to understand life and going about it different ways. But both were born from the same questions. 'How and why are we here?'"

"All religion cares about is controlling people and scaring them shitless."

"No, not religion. The men who run the business based on religious scripture. They're the bad guys if someone is to be. But most religions' basic rule is to love and be good. We both know that's no small thing."

Ianto snapped the book shut and tossed it to the floor.

"Forget it."

"Whatever." Michaela rolled her eyes, straightening her back. "What do you want to eat for dinner? I'm gonna order." Ianto came out of his sulk with a start.

"Wh –uh… what're you having?"

Michaela shrugged, "Chinese?"

"I like Chinese."

"Cool I'll dig out the menu. You should probably get off the floor before you get a numb bum. C'mon Dubhtach."

Dubhtach yapped and climbed out of Ianto's lap, padding after her mistress, leaving Ianto on his own. That was twice now he'd gotten angry with her for no reason. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Idiot!" he grunted, banging his head against the wall. "Stop being an arse." He got to his feet, and his legs went dead. "Fuck." He shook his legs to get the feeling back.

"Ye ok there?" There was laughter in Michaela's voice as she came back with a menu and saw him doing something not unlike the hokey-pokey. Ianto blushed.

"Dead legs."

"Ah, well, keep shaking. I'm getting Duck. What do you want?"

"Sweet and sour chicken."

"Noodles, rice or chips?"

"Noodles."

"Ok." Michaela ordered the food. Ianto was still trying to regain his right leg. As she hung up, Michaela laughed, "Poor thing. Need any help?"

Ianto looked up sharply and Michaela blushed, realising what she'd just implied.

"N-no. I'm good."

"Ok."

They stood in silence, the pins and needles finally going away in his leg. Ianto coughed, then said,

"Touch isn't too bad."

Michaela was surprised, but she smiled.

"No, it isn't."

Ianto licked his lips, nervously breathing out of his mouth. He walked up to her until he was almost toe to toe with her. Then he reached out, his fingers brushing her arm. Michaela's eyes were huge and anxious as she shivered. Ianto drew in a deep breath.

Then he took her hand.

Please see above Author Note for full rant.

Night's Darkness