A/N:

Ok, so if I'd slept on it one more night before posting, I might have paced a few things just slightly differently. I guess maybe I wanted to get through to Jack and Ianto's personal happy ending too much. Hope nobody minded too much…

Once again, thank you for the fantastic reviews this has gotten, I am so glad to have been able to offer up a 'solution' to the problems that, so far, haven't involved character death (no, I promise, I'm not planning on shattering the trust that has been placed in me... just not promising that there won't be some death in the last couple of chapters....)

Chapter Twenty Five:
Day Five, Part Three

"He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetrate it.
He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it."

Dr Martin Luther King, Jr.

"You ok?" Gibbs asked quietly when Alice brought Steven back over.

"Not really," she told him the truth.

Her son looked up at her. "I don't understand, Mum, why are you so mad at Uncle Jack? This isn't his fault. You said it was just a mix up, remember?" he gave her a pleading look, anxious to understand the things that were beyond a child's ability to grasp—things he couldn't have understood even if she had told him the truth. "You always get mad, every time he comes over, but when he missed my birthday last year you got mad at him for that, too, how come?" he wanted to know.

Alice looked away; she could never face him when she felt guilty about anything. It had been the same when he asked about when his Dad was coming home…She wrapped her arms around Steven's shoulders and tried to tell him that she wasn't angry at anybody, least of all his Uncle Jack, but she could tell he didn't believe her.

But he didn't press the issue either. He never did. "Can I go outside?" he asked.

"I think we'd better stay put," she told him.

"Fine then," he pulled away from her and went over to see what Martha was doing.

Alice ran her hands over her face and through her hair. This wasn't her father's fault, but she couldn't help blaming him. If he were an ordinary man, a banker or a policeman, even… why did he have to be the immortal, invincible Captain Jack Harkness?

"Kids pick up on more than we think we do," the soft sound of Gibbs' voice pulled her out of her reverie.

"Yeah, yeah, I suppose they do," she gave over a tight lipped smile; she watched the way Martha stopped what she was doing to talk to Steven, even though what she was working on had to be important. She turned back to the American again. "I never asked, do you have children, Mr Gibbs?"

He said 'no', but she could see there was a sadness in his eyes.

"It's funny, really, when my husband left me, I thought that was the end of the world… and now… this," she looked around. She looked at him, her smile warming. "Thank you, by the way."

"For?"

"Not asking. About me and the Captain. I appreciate that."

He shrugged. "If it was anybody's business one of you would have said something by now."

"It's not that. I'm just not ready for Steven to find out certain things."

He gave her a mildly speculative look.

"It's not what you think, I can promise you that," she told him definitively. There was no way any of them had guessed she was his daughter. She knew what they thought, it was written all over their faces. At the moment, she didn't care…well, not much, anyway. Torchwood was his problem, not hers.

"You're not ready to explain to him that Harkness can't die—and if I'm right, he doesn't age, either, does he?" Gibbs hazarded, keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard—not that anyone seemed to be paying attention.

Alice nodded. "How do you say something like that to a little boy?"

"I don't know. But eventually he's gonna notice something. Like I said, kids are smart," he got up to refill his coffee cup.

"That's what I'm afraid of, Mr Gibbs," she admitted, leaning back, watching her son...

Lois glanced towards Alice Carter and Jethro Gibbs. Everyone had witnessed the rather chilly reunion she and Captain Harkness had just had—Harkness who had been brought in, in a body bag not six hours before. Not that anyone had acted as if he was dead. Ianto Jones-Harkness had insisted on sitting with him, as if he was only sick and would be coming around any time. The others had carried on as if they expected him to walk in at any moment. Even Gwen told her not to worry about it when she'd asked.

At first she thought it was for the boy's sake (if the whispered exchanges were anything to go on, Steven might be Harkness' son, although if that were the case, it was obvious no one had known about it previously and they weren't very pleased to have been kept in the dark 'again'. She could only guess that the Captain made a habit of not telling his team things that they considered to be important. It was also fairly obvious that if the boy was his, Steven didn't know either, he kept calling Captain Harkness 'Uncle Jack.' He seemed rather fond of his 'Uncle', so Lois supposed that it was best to let him believe he was still alive, at least until today was over. She'd heard Johnson saying that he would be safe, they were only giving over the lowest ten percent of the kids, the kids they didn't want anyway, the ones that the government felt would never amount to anything. The statement struck a cord in several members of the Torchwood team. Apparently several of them had started out their lives in that lowest ten percent…)

And then suddenly Jack Harkness and his partner walked through the doors and Lois couldn't believe what she was seeing! Harkness was alive! No one else had looked the least bit surprised to see the Captain up and walking around, seemingly perfectly healthy, but when she asked Gwen, the Welshwoman told her that, no, it didn't mean everybody else from Thames House was all right as well, the virus was deadly. It was just that Jack couldn't die.

"What do you mean, he can't die? Everybody dies."

"Not Jack."

"Not ever?"

"No. Not ever."

"How…?"

"It doesn't matter how. Now how about giving me a hand with these cables…" she flashed a kind smile.

Truthfully, Lois was just glad to have been given something to do, to have been put to work instead of being shoved to the sidelines, because really what could a junior PA do besides make coffee and serve biscuits? But she needed something more, something to keep her mind off how scared she was—something to make her feel like she was contributing. That was why, even though she didn't particularly care for Mr Dekker, something about him gave her the creeps, when she was asked to work with him, to assimilate his data and Torchwood's, that she dove at the chance to do something truly useful, to somehow make up for all those people…

"Fascinating, isn't it?" Dekker said to her when Captain Harkness and his partner re-entered the room. She'd finished helping Gwen with the bit of cable and had returned to the computer terminal she and Dekker were working from.

"What do you mean?" she asked of his question.

Dekker flashed that disarmingly friendly smile of his. "A man who can't die. It's fascinating. Don't you think so, Miss Habiba?" the sound of his voice made her skin craw. "Makes you wonder how he does it."

"Yeah, sure, I suppose." She went back to work…

Gwen was the first one to meet Jack and Ianto when they came back in the room.

"Later," he said to the look on her face, before she'd even gotten to word one of whatever it was she wanted to say to him. Whatever it was, he wasn't ready to deal with it.

She stood her ground. "Not this time, Jack," she informed him in a quiet, angry tone. "What's going on?" she cast a not-so-surreptitious glance in Alice Carter's direction. "You owe us an explanation, Jack. Who is she?"

He started to speak, but stopped and looked around at the rest of his team. They were all expecting some kind of answer out of him too. He glanced at Ianto, but found no answers in his Welshman's expression… but maybe Gwen was right this time, maybe the rest of his team deserved better than his silence.

How many times had he and Ianto asked Sara to watch Jason for them before he'd offered her a job with Torchwood? And wasn't he the one to insist that secrets were dangerous? What was it he'd promised Bobby not so long ago, about how if it was important he would tell them…?

So what were the left to think now, he wondered? That he'd lied when he said that or that he didn't consider his relationship with Alice important enough to mention, even if they'd missed the mark with the assumption he was pretty sure they'd all made…?

What came next, however, surprised all of them, especially Jack.

"Gwen," said Ianto quietly. "Leave it. It's all right." He glanced at the rest of their team as well. There would be a time and a place for lengthy discussions, but this wasn't it. All they needed to know was that whatever it was, it was all right.

Gwen regarded him carefully for a long, long moment before relenting, albeit reluctantly.

Ianto looked over to Sara; she was keeping her distance, no doubt intentionally, probably to avoid losing her temper at Jack. But she nodded, silently agreeing to let it lie for the moment.

Tim and Mickey went back to what they were working on, too; in the case of the former, it was a terse conversation with Abby over the webcam, telling her that he was not going to have a conversation with Jack about his private life in the middle of a situation. He looked relieved when Gibbs gave him a look of approval; the older man had already suggested that the best course was to let Harkness explain himself, after the emergency was over, before jumping to any conclusions… because you know what happens when you make assumptions… Gibbs had reminded them.

Wendy, who had been doing her best not to look at Jack at all, continued not to look at him. Ianto suspected that she knew more than she was saying. It was in her body language, the way she almost smiled when he told Gwen to leave it. He presumed she must have heard at least part of his and Jack's conversation in the hallway with that above-average hearing of hers. She just wasn't the sort to go advertising someone else's secrets… and he reckoned she probably wanted to watch Jack wriggle out of it himself with the rest of the team because he could have told them from the start exactly what he'd meant when he said Frobisher had taken steps to insure his cooperation. Instead, he'd done what he always did, he kept it to himself instead of asking for help.

Martha joined them, having sent Steven back to his mother and Gibbs again—the American took him outside, so he could get a little air, get away from all the tension in the room.

"Are you all right?" Martha asked Jack—but she was looking at his partner.

"You know me," the older man flashed a classic mega-watt grin her way. "I'm perfect."

Ianto rolled his eyes and headed towards the coffee maker; Martha smiled. She wasn't sure about Jack being perfect (or actually she was sure, he wasn't perfect, but that didn't change how much she cared about him), but at least things appeared to be back to normal between he and Ianto.

"All right," he said in Martha's direction, although he was making no attempt to hide the way he enjoying the view of his Welshman walking away. He still loved the suit… loved the man in the suit… appreciated him for what he'd just done, what he'd done a few moments before in reassuring him that he wasn't going to leave him the way Lucia had, he wasn't going to take away the things that mattered the most in his life, the things that gave his life meaning… his love. His family. "Tell me what you've got," he turned back to the woman he was actually supposed to be talking to.

She cleared her throat and steered him over to the computer terminal where Lois Habiba was working…

Lois looked up as they approached. "Captain Harkness," she tried to smile, to look as comfortable as everybody else did talking to a dead man, a man who couldn't die, but it was difficult to not think of him as the lifeless body that had been brought with them in the helicopters.

He gave over kind smile, like he understood her discomfort and wanted to ease it. He held out his hand, "Miss Habiba. Good to finally meet you in person," his tone was warm, sincere. "We owe you quite a debt. Especially me. Thank you."

"Just doing my job, Captain," she told him, feeling a sudden, awkward, rush of warmth overtake her as she shook his hand. She was just an office girl, a temp…and he was so much better looking in person (alive) than in his file photo…

"What have you been working on?" he asked her, sounding like he was genuinely interested in what she had to say. She began to understand why the people around him respected him as much as they clearly did, even when they appeared angry at him over personal issues; they probably wouldn't be so angry if they didn't care, she realized.

She cleared her throat; the others were gathering around as well, looking at her computer screen. "I've been inputting data from various sources, Captain. Mr Dekker has been studying the alien for forty years, and Dr Chase brought us… I mean you, sorry," she floundered a bit, but he didn't say anything, no one did, they just waited, patiently for her to speak again. "Dr Chase brought the results of the tests that were run on children in the New Jersey area, in the United States, on the first day."

"And?" the Captain asked.

"And I…well…" she wasn't the expert… she looked to Dekker.

"You're wasting your time," he answered her questioning look. "As fascinating as all this is—and it is—there's nothing you can do."

"What?" Lois looked at him shocked. More than shocked.

"You son of a…" Sara began.

"I've been analyzing those transmissions for forty years," he cut her off, clearly regarding the young woman as if she knew nothing at all. "I know everything there is to know about the 456 and I'm telling you, this is all a waste of time."

"There's always something we can do," Jack told him—told all of them.

"What did you do then, forty years ago, Captain?" he replied. "Oh, don't look so surprised, I know you were there, I read the report. I know all about you, about Torchwood."

"I highly doubt that," said Sara in a cold tone.

"Let me see what you've got," Jack said to Lois. "How long do we have before they start taking the kids?"

"About four hours," Gwen told him.

Jack nodded. "All right, people, let's get to work. Who has the Torchwood servers up online?" he looked around.

"Over here," Mickey told him, unable to help himself but smile. Jack was back. They were all back.

"Bring that laptop over here! I need to see what you've got. Tim… do you have Abby on yours?"

"Got her right here, Boss. Bobby too."

"Jack!" Abby yelled through the webcam, feeling the same elation as Mickey. They were back!

Jack flashed a grin. "Ready for duty, Ms Scuito?"

"Sir, yes, Sir!" she grinned right back.

"Good, because I need you. I need all of you. Ianto!"

The young Welshman smiled quietly to himself. "All ready on it, Sir," he called back from the coffee station.

"The 456 are named after a wavelength," Sara told Jack, elbowing Dekker out of her way. "Abby and Mr Smith have been tracking it and we've analyzing the data you sent us from Thames House…"

"I'm telling you…" Dekker began.

"Would somebody hit him for me!" Abby yelled through the computer screen.

"It would be my pleasure," Wendy growled softly, giving Dekker a glower to shut him up long enough for the people who really knew what they were doing—the people who actually cared—to do their jobs.

…………………………………………………………

Alice Carter looked up, startled, when the young man wearing a shirt and tie, waistcoat—bloody dress shoes, even—handed her a cup of coffee. His face was unreadable, pleasant. Professional. She frowned. She didn't mean to, but she couldn't help it. She didn't think she could appear so unflappable if their positions were to be reversed, if she were standing there handing a cup of coffee to her husband's forty year old daughter.

"You look like you could use this," he told her simply. His tone was as cordial as his expression.

She took the mug. She didn't need more 'army coffee', but she supposed she appreciated the effort. Still… "You don't have to pretend, you know," she told him in the kindest tone she could muster; she didn't make eye contact.

"I'm sorry?" he seemed to genuinely not understand her comment.

"He told you, didn't he? Who I am...I mean, who I really am."

Ianto nodded.

"Well then, you know what an awful woman I am, don't you, wanting nothing to do with my own father, not letting him see his grandson even though he's done nothing but support us," she couldn't help the bitterness in her tone. It wasn't directed at her father, at least not entirely. She knew he'd only stayed away because her mother told him to, because she didn't want the constant reminder of her own mortality. He hadn't fought to see her any more than he fought to see Steven. He asked, but he didn't fight. He gave her enough money to live comfortabley, just like he'd done for her mum. He'd never realized that it broke her mother's heart to leave him…never realized that it had broken her heart that her father wasn't willing to fight for her.

She looked up at his partner. His husband. "You don't have to pretend to be nice to me. I don't expect it."

"Alice…if…I may?"

She shrugged; what difference did it make what he called her?

Ianto took a seat next to her. "Whatever's between you and your father isn't my business, Alice," he told her in a kind tone. An understanding tone.

She realized he must be an incredibly understanding young man to put up with someone like her father. "Did you know about me before today?" she queried.

"No. I don't imagine you knew about me, either."

She shook her head and took a sip of the coffee…blinked. It wasn't anything like the army coffee she'd had earlier.

The Welshman smiled. It was amazing what a difference it made when one simply measured things out properly. It never ceased to amaze him the way some people just dumped in coffee grounds and water and hoped for the best. "Your father appreciates it, too," he said of the coffee.

She smiled an almost real seeming smile back at him. "Doesn't it bother you in the least?" she wondered.

"Doesn't what bother me?"

"That I'm fifteen years older than you."

"Why should it?" he asked in too earnest a tone for her to think he was anything but sincere. "Jack has lived a very long time. I'm not sure how much of his past he ever told you…?"

She shook her head again and drank some more coffee before admitting that she'd never wanted to know any more about him than her mother told her. His expression gave the impression that she didn't need to elaborate; he seemed to gather that her mum hadn't ever had anything good to say about her father. Which isn't true, either, Alice realized. It had just hurt her too much to talk about the good times they must have had, to wonder what she'd thrown away. She said as much aloud.

"I'm sure she made the choices she felt were best in the moment. Just like you are have."

She looked into the depths of her cup, but found no answers there. "I look older than him, you know," she said softly. "And I know that I'll keep on looking older and older until some day he buries me the same way he buried my mother. Even though she kicked him out of our lives when I was a little girl, he still came to her funeral. He still cried."

"He'll bury everyone he ever knows, everyone he ever loves, everyone who ever loves him," Ianto told her, his tone very quiet. "I can't imagine that burden. Can you?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but he was getting up. Johnson had just come into the room and was heading Jack's way.

"Ianto—I don't mean to sound awful, I do love my father. I just… I can't bear looking at him, knowing he'll never change."

"He didn't ask for immortality. He was born just as human as you and I. But… something happened and it can't ever be undone. He's a fixed point in time, Alice. But he's still human. He still loves. He still gets hurt. He even still dies, he just doesn't stay that way for long—and that hurts too." He gave over a tight lipped smile before excusing himself to stand by his Captain.

………………………………………………………..

"Captain," Johnson greeted him with an uncertain tone. "I only just heard you were…" she faltered. What did one call it when someone came back from the dead?

He merely shrugged in response without offering up any sort of answer to her quandary.

"Do you and your people have everything you need?" she asked.

"We're all set, thank you," Harkness' partner told her in a brusque tone.

She nodded. "I—I am not going to apologize," she told him and the young Welshman who looked like he would take particular pleasure in putting a bullet through her skull.

"Nobody's asking you to," the Captain replied; she doubted very much that he was speaking for the both of them.

"I was doing my job," she said anyway. Even she wasn't sure who she was really trying to convince any more. "I was protecting the state. I was brought up to believe in and protect the state."

"You didn't do much good, did you?" Ianto asked her.

She swallowed, looking uncomfortable. "I was doing my job," she repeated.

"We're all on the same side here," said Jack. "We all want to protect the people of this planet. And we've all made mistakes, even me. Especially me," he glanced at his partner. "What we did forty years ago… four days ago… it doesn't matter any more. What matters is now, fighting back, making sure they get the message to leave this planet and leave it for good."

"Jack, you'd better have a look at this," Sarah Jane spoke to him through the computer monitor before switching it over so he could see the news:

"The government claims it's 'Britain back to normal.' Schools across the country are being reopened and parents are being urged to return their children to a normal routine. The inoculation program will begin at midday and World Health Organization has issued a statement guaranteeing the safety and benefits effect of the treatment…"