A/N: A slight lack of Jack, Gwen and Daria in this chapter, and heavy lack of Andy and Rhys. I promise they'll be back next chapter for more intrigue, as you're all calling it. (: There is a lot of Ianto, Charlton, Learner and Catherine, however, and I think a lot of you will be happy to find that your hunches have been correct. In terms of speculation and picking up on hints, you guys are SPOT ON. (; For anyone who is interested, in my TW poetry collection 'Understanding', chapter 4 is a little added bit of development of Charlton. I'll be doing little added things every so often, so I'll tell you when there's a bonus bit of poetry linked to current goings-on. Anyways. Yes. This one is named after 'Close To Me' by The Cure; believe me, it's fitting. Enjoy the chapter, and please do review, you guys make my day.

The Rift readings started getting strange on a Wednesday afternoon. It was a huge spike in Rift activity, and by the time Jack, Gwen, Ianto and Daria had gotten there, there was nothing left except a patch of scorched ground and a smell of burning in the air.

They kept a constant tab on Rift readings after that – during the day Charlton looked after it, and during the night Ianto and Jack took turns, while one of them slept. Well, Jack insisted he didn't sleep, but Ianto had spotted him snoozing in his office, head rested on his hands.

It was funny, in a way, that Charlton and Daria had settled in so quickly to the routine of Torchwood missions, when this was the beginning of their first one. The second Rift spike happened during the early hours of the following Wednesday, and when they were called – Charlton into work, and Daria to the field – they were both in pyjamas, with heavy overcoats on top. Upon returning to the Hub at 4 am, the story having repeated itself (scorched earth, smell of burning), Charlton had already set up a map of Wales on a corkboard, and stuck pins into it where the spikes had occurred.

Ianto watched with an amused expression as Daria and Charlton both headed to their lockers to retrieve the emergency clothes they kept there – a warm, purple wrap dress, thick tights and heeled boots for Daria, and the usual medley of black for Charlton. Both went to the showers, too used to each other to bother using the gender-specific ones.

As far as they knew, Charlton and Daria attended a class together. On Thursdays they always left together, chatting amicably, clearly very comfortable with each other. Later, when Ianto asked what they went to, Daria smiled and said, "Yoga." When asked why, Charlton said, "Well, we had to get to know each other somehow. Just happened that we both like yoga."

The spikes started to happen more and more often as the weeks went by, until, five weeks after the first one, they happened every day. None of them slept for more than 4 hours at a time for the next week and a half and finally, on the Saturday, the good news came.

"The Rift has stabilised. I think we're in the clear, for now."

A collective groan of relief echoed through the Hub, and Jack sighed, "I've got to take a conference call with the new prime minister. Ladies, go home, especially you, Gwen. You shouldn't even be coming to the field anymore. Charlton, can you just stay until my call is over, make sure the Rift is completely stable?"

He nodded, and Jack disappeared into his office, immediately picking up the phone and dialling.

Gwen smiled, packing her things with a yawn, and started waddling towards the door. Daria raised an eyebrow, "Gwen, let me give you a lift. You're too pregnant to do anything potentially stressful. I'm saying this as your doctor and your friend." Looking mock-offended, Gwen held a hand to her heart, "Such harsh words, and yet so fair. Thank you, love." Daria smiled back, and the pair departed, Daria carrying Gwen's bags and saying, "Also, you have to stop doing field missions, starting from now…it's giving me panic attacks even seeing you out of the Hub."

Ianto smiled as their banter faded out, but Charlton frowned as he finished putting the pins onto the map, noticing they made a perfect line. Checking with the display on his screen, he frowned deeper. Ianto quirked an eyebrow, "What is it?"

"The spikes. They ran right along the Rift, and were always the same distance apart," Charlton answered, before wrinkling his nose, "Christ, I'm tired. How long do you think he'll be?"

Glancing at the door, Ianto sighed. "God knows. It could be forever. In fact, I'll make coffee."

Standing and stretching, before leaning over to touch his toes, Charlton smiled slightly, "So am I special? Not getting to sleep?"

Ianto laughed, "Think of it as you being invaluable. And now you're just showing off."

Charlton winked, "What's right is right."

Ianto pressed a caramel macchiato into his hands, expertly made, "oh, and thank you. I can't go back to Starbucks now I've had Ianto-brand coffee."

"Always the way, always the way. Hang on, what's that?" Ianto pointed at the screen. Charlton tore himself away from his coffee and looked, frowning. All at once he'd put down his coffee and was tapping away at the keys, while Ianto leant over his shoulder, staring equally as intensely at the screen.

"Just…" Charlton started, eyes scanning the numbers scrolling past, "…a…temporary flux. I think we need to look into it…" he paused, frowning at the location of the flux, "…as it's right at the end of our trail."

He glanced up at Ianto, as if just noticing their proximity. He wondered whether Ianto was aware of the fact his veins were very clear under his skin – it was pretty, in a strange way. Ianto glanced down at him, and blushed, moving away slightly too quickly and swallowing anxiously.

"I should get the message to Jack…" He murmured, glancing over at their leader in his office, who was just putting down the phone, "Wow, that was quick…"

He excused himself, practically running up the stairs, and as soon as the Welshman had quietly entered Jack's office, Charlton sighed heavily. It was inexcusable, really, the way he silently lusted after his co-worker, especially as Ianto was with Jack. But there was something behind the archivist's eyes that suggested sadness – and Charlton could only guess at the countless reasons why.

He wondered what Daria was up to – probably just dropped off Gwen. He sighed, yawning, and to try and gain some energy, he settled down on the floor in the lotus position to do some breathing exercises. There was something nice about focusing on his breathing, and just fading away into nothingness; something that brought him closer to home.

Apparently, he fell asleep.

He woke up in the Torchwood SUV, in the passenger seat; glancing over at the driver, he was surprised to find Ianto, who looked at him with a small smile, "Hi. Hell of a thing, getting you to the car."

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat – sleeping awkwardly in the SUV had left a crick in his neck – Charlton murmured, "I'm hoping you're taking me home and not somewhere nefarious. I don't know if I could go along with that."

"Homeward bound, Charlton," Ianto wrinkled his nose, "Charlie never caught on, did it?"

"Never does, no matter where I am. I needn't bother," he replied, with a smile.

Ianto chuckled, and the sound was reassuring. Then the Welshman cleared his throat quietly, and said, "Listen, when you were asleep, you were thinking really vividly, and sometimes when people are in…I dunno, a peaceful state, maybe, I overhear them. And you might not be conscious of what you're thinking, but I want to say stop."

Well, that was a shock. Charlton sat up, rubbing his eyes with a deep sigh and said, "Listen, if I said…thought…anything that was offensive, I really didn't mean to, I assure you. My brain is a little too active. I overthink everything. What I mean to say is, whatever it was, I'm sorry."

Ianto swallowed anxiously, like he had earlier, and Charlton frowned, sensing a faux-pas, "Did I say the wrong thing? I mean, I wasn't thinking of something warranting more than an apology, was I?"

"No, nothing like that. Just…" he thought maybe Ianto was blushing, but it was hard to tell in the soft, rosy glow of the street lights, "…you know that I'm…with…Jack, right?"

Charlton definitely felt himself blush, "…oh."

"It's not that I'm not flattered, because I am, but…"

"What was I thinking of, Ianto? Please give me that piece of information, at least."

Then, as if out of nowhere, an image formed in his head. He frowned deeper, looking at Ianto, who nodded as if to say, "That was me." His first thought at the image was Well, at least I wasn't imagining him naked, and then he noticed that Ianto was shifting uncomfortably, too. It was an innocent enough image. It could have just been one of those bizarre dreams where the moment he kissed Ianto, he turned into a banana. A standard mish-mash of nonsense, formed from everyday life and the realms of imagination.

But he knew it wasn't. And by the looks of it, Ianto did too. The Welshman pulled the SUV into the curb next to Charlton's house, and turned off the engine, before turning towards him with an almost…hopeful expression.

It would be so easy to take advantage of this situation. Ianto seemed to know it, because he whispered, "It's not as if I'm not interested, too, but I don't even know why." Charlton wanted to be the guy who would take advantage, who would give a wry chuckle and sarcastically quip about Ianto getting past his awful personality and hideous face, then give Ianto the kiss he was so obviously curious about.

His eyes were half-lidded, and his clean-shaven face was right there, and the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. Charlton licked his lips nervously, and absently thought that Well, no one would know but us. But that was the part he had trouble with, and then he realized he was knackered and it was almost dawn and he needed to get some sleep and Ianto needed to get back to Jack before he suspected anything and honestly, was it worth the effort?

Opening the car door broke the spell. The tense atmosphere of the car was sucked out into the twilight air and suddenly Charlton could think clearly. Ianto seemed to move back, too, and blinked, in a daze. His eyes seemed to temporarily cloud with disappointment, and Charlton kept frowning.

"Ianto, it's not that I don't want to. But I'm being chivalrous and possibly stupid passing up this opportunity, and I just think you'd regret this," he said, in a rush, words stumbling over each other as he stumbled out of the warm SUV into the cold, his mind suddenly clear, "because what you have with Jack is special and rare and you shouldn't throw that away over curiousity."

Ianto cleared his throat awkwardly, with a sigh, and rubbed his tired eyes, "Yeah, I know. Sorry, I'm just…tired, you know? Eh…I'll go back to the Hub and get some sleep. And you," his eyes became eagle's eyes, sharp and piercing, "will never speak of this, right? We're just two people who are very very tired who work for a very, very stressful organization."

"Crystal clear," Charlton said, scooping his hoodie and blazer off the car seat and smiling briefly. He was half tempted to salute, but instead let his gaze soften, "Thanks for the lift."

Ianto drove off wordlessly, still shocked from his moment of weakness. Charlton headed into his building, and could barely remember the trip up the stairs to his apartment door. He did however remember slumping down on his bed, fully clothed, and just before he fell asleep, reading a text from Ianto which said, 'You get a day off tomorrow…well, today. Catch up on your sleep, or we'll both suffer.' He smiled absently, pulling his blankets over himself, musing that he might just be falling in love with precisely the wrong person.

Everything would be fine. As he drifted off, numbers wheeled around his head, before settling on one number – 25.

He found her in one of the changing rooms, sitting quietly on a bench, swinging her legs, staring at a piece of paper in her hands.

When she heard him coming in, she put the paper into the pocket of her shorts, and pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around them. She rested her head on her knees, "Hi, Learner."

He hadn't seen her for two weeks, and before that he only ever saw her briefly, when they were changing shifts. Whenever he found where she was, there was only a trace scent of her in the air. That was one of the problems with both of them being so…different. It was too much of an equal playing field for him to be able to keep up with her, or even to predict her movements.

He stayed in his true form, and sat beside her, toying with the ripped seam of his board shorts; he noticed it was a very human gesture for an Umbreyta. He wondered whether this was nervousness. It wasn't something he had encountered before, in this form. He sighed, and with a smile, put an arm around her, careful not to hurt her with his spines, "Hi."

She seemed to shrink away from his touch, and he felt a frown come to his features, but he removed his arm from her shoulders. She winced, "Sorry. Just…I found out why I've been so…you know."

A very warm feeling began to pool in the pit of his stomach, burning unpleasantly. He thought that maybe he knew what she was going to say, but wasn't quite ready to face it yet. He studied her face instead – the fever-red cheeks under her tattooed skin, the heavy shadows under her eyes. Her eyes, he recognized, were much the same as usual; blue, tranquil. Natural. Very calming to him, as he clenched the edge of the bench with both hands.

He cleared his throat; for some reason he found it parched, "…ah…um, yes?"

She looked at him, expression soft, and took his hand. He felt as if he wanted to cry – she looked so young and yet so calm about this…situation. She said, in a voice nearer to a whisper, "I think you know. I think you suspected as soon as I spoke."

He swallowed, and traced the shape of her cheek, sighing at the warmth of her skin. How were they meant to handle this? She would be dead if he had just left her there, in that hospital. Dead and buried, one more light in the world gone out. 25 years would have passed and he would have (maybe) forgotten the thrum he felt in his heart when he first set eyes on her, that thrum that told him she was his. Selfishly, he thought he had done the right thing for the both of them. But now, with her being so calm about something that would change her immeasurably, he thought maybe he should have just let her die.

Suddenly she was kissing him, and pulling away, and kissing him again, and there was wetness on her cheeks falling on his skin, and she looked him dead in the eyes and said, whisper-soft, "Don't you ever say that. You did the right thing."

"How are we going to handle this, Cath?" he said, stroking her face, brushing her tangled hair back from her forehead, "How could I let this happen to you?"

Wordlessly, she put the piece of paper into his hand.

He read the results of her whole body scan carefully, looking for anything out of the ordinary. All seemed fine, in line with a normal human woman in this…state. He questioned, "When was your last period?"

Here, she moved her legs down from the bench, and pulled her baggy sweater up; there, between her hipbones, was a small, but very defined bump. She smiled a watery smile, "A long time ago."

He sighed, putting his face in his hands; soundlessly, he shifted into his human form, despite it being painful – he winced, thinking I haven't been human in a while.

He looked at her, "That's why your scent was different. God, in the back of my mind I knew, I knew this was what was wrong, but I just ignored it…" He looked into her eyes, "I wasn't ready to deal with what this means. This has happened before, my kind have literature about it, but…I just never thought it would happen for us. Your body is so different to other human women. I thought what the injection did to you…"

"Nope," Cath said, taking his face into her hands, "I think we can say I'm normal, in that regard. There's no use us fretting over this. Let's just get the literature, and figure out what we've got ahead of us, okay?"

He took one of her hands and kissed the back of it, before nodding, "Okay." She began to cry, smiling through her tears, "God…we're pregnant." He pulled her to him, and hugged her, while she stroked her stomach with one hand and wiped her eyes with the other, before hugging him back.

There was something about the way she was so calm, so different to her usual vibrant self, that made him think that maybe, this could be okay. He pressed a kiss into her her, and tried not to cry.