[A/N: I really hope you enjoy this chapter, it's un-beta'd and I've tried to skip through the events of Gwen's wedding as much as possible b'cos you were all there. You know, you saw it. But had to do a little section on the dance, I just had to :D Really nervous about posting this chapter, I've re-written it so many times. I'd love to know what you guys think, so please review. The end is almost in sight, let's make this a home-stretch with as many reviews as possible! Thank you! :D]

Jack Harkness cracked his knuckles, wearily, and let his mind wander across the events of the day. Nostrovite. Alien baby. Ianto's dad. Owen's liver – though when that had popped up he had yet to remember. Rhys' mum's perfume. Gwen going badass with the hidden gun. The broken chainsaw. Saving the day. Then retconning everyone so that they never remembered.

Well, it was all in a day's work.

The Captain chuckled as he recalled the look on Rhys' face when Jack had made to leave with Gwen; it had been priceless. Of course, she knew he would never do such a thing...well, not unless Ianto had been involved too, but that was a long-suppressed fantasy.

He vaguely noticed Owen asking Tosh to dance. They moved together for all of two seconds, the medic's eyes never leaving Ianto as the couple swayed. Jack to hand it to him, the man was persistent if little else. The immortal was delighted that the Welshman's eyes never met with Owen's; Ianto continued to look steadily at Jack, allowing himself to smile slightly. His smile was met with a grin that proceeded to melt Ianto's insides.

As more of a hint-drop than anything else, Jack rose from his seat, scanning the floor quickly for one Mrs Rhys Williams. He was reluctant to pull her from her dance with her husband, but Gwen was an important person in his life. He'd never forgive himself if he didn't dance with her at her wedding.

Making idle quips about doing Ianto and saving the world, which of course he completely intended to do, most likely in that order, Jack smiled at the normality of it all. They'd undoubtedly be back to crazy alien chasing the next day, but for once, it was just nice to be normal. To laugh, and dance and drink. To flirt with Gwen but then laugh about it with her later.

He meant it when he said he'd miss her; Gwen Cooper was an admirable figure. Her ability to – sometimes aggravatingly – care unconditionally about someone, anyone who needed caring about, and that someone was predominantly Jack. Her smile, her sense of humour, her capability to worm her way out of awkward situations. They were all beautiful parts of her. They were great friends, and when her time came to leave Torchwood, she'd hold a small cavern of Jack's aching heart. They all would.

But, despite loving Gwen the way he did, Jack Harkness was shocked, delighted when Ianto cut into their dance. The younger man seamlessly moulded into Jack's arms, smiling shyly.

Ianto's breath ghosted across the Captain's ear as he whispered, "Everyone's staring."

Jack looked around, amused more than anything else. But he was a little surprised when he noticed Ianto wasn't exaggerating. It wasn't just Owen's laser-glare, it was Tosh and Rhys, and the remainders of Rhys and Gwen's family who had managed to fight the retcon for this long. They still managed to look shocked through sleep-ridden eyes. "They're just jealous," Jack decided. "Who wouldn't be? We're gorgeous."

Ianto snorted at this, but managed a smile as he replied, "Will your ego be irreversibly damaged if I argue?"

"Yes."

"Then I absolutely agree."

Jack smiled back at the Welshman. He was pleasantly surprised at this public display of affection; he never had Ianto pegged as the type. "Owen is going to kill you." He warned Ianto, fondly.

The younger man hesitated only slightly before replying, "Let him. It's worth it, to do this."

"I didn't know you danced." Jack said, honestly.

Ianto laughed, lightly. "I don't. I don't think I've slow danced in two years. But it's not exactly something you forget how to do. Lisa was never really that into it, so..." Jack was baffled by Ianto's ability to bring Lisa up in conversation. Of course, the immortal himself could do it about any of his past lovers, but that had taken centuries of practise. Jack had underestimated how strong Ianto really was. To only have cracked a few times under the weight of every burden he had to bear was far beyond admirable. It was incredible.

"You should have seen the dance halls of the nineteen thirties," Jack replied, wistfully, smiling at dug-up memories; they weren't all bittersweet. "They were amazing; taught me everything I know."

Ianto just grinned, tucking his face further into the hollow of Jack's neck. He was surprised at how easy this was, being domestic and loving with Jack. He'd always bookmarked them as fuck buddies, he hadn't realised that they could do this. He hadn't realised the variety of things they could be, if they worked hard enough.

"Have you ever been married before?" The words were out of Ianto's mouth before his brain had time to process them. Shit, shit, shit!

Jack smiled, holding Ianto a tiny bit closer. "Yeah," he replied, a little wistfully.

"When?" And again, with the word-vomit. "Sorry, Jack, you don't have to..." Ianto tried to save his small slip-of-tongue, but the immortal didn't seem to mind.

"It's fine. It's nice talking about it, sometimes," he continued to smile, bravely. "Twice. Once before, and once after."

The Welshman didn't have to ask to know that Jack meant before and after his immortality. "Did we look half as attractive when we can't live as long as you?" Ianto joked, trying to lighten the situation, if that was at all possible in a situation as surreal as this.

"Quite the opposite," Jack answered, honestly. "But...I would never, not again. It hurt too much. Getting so close to someone."

Ianto nodded, not wanting to push the situation, but pleased that Jack had been willing to open up. "Understandable. What about before..."

"She was a doll," Jack laughed, "but she didn't like me half as much after she found me kissing her brother."

The Welshman stared, open-mouthed, feet failing to move him for a moment. "You did what?"

"Yeah, that was the general reaction I got. Being the homophobic generation they were." They resumed their dance, Ianto a little half-heartedly, more intent on listening to Jack than slow-dancing. "We couldn't really divorce, it was still frowned upon, being on your own, especially by her family. We drifted apart, and one day I just never came to see her. I was living on an airship at the time – don't ask," he added after seeing Ianto's expression, "after the Doctor, I just left. Never saw her again. She probably died in the bombings." He sighed, overcome with memories.

"You so deserve your own TV show," Ianto said, not entirely sarcastically.

"It would have to be X-Rated." Jack reminded him, smiling at the thought.

"I would not have sex with you on television."

"Not even when no one's around?"

"When is no one around?"

"Those evenings in the hothouse..."

"I'll consider it. But you better mean no one. Especially not Gwen. And not on TV."

"Then what's the point of having a TV show?"

"Fair point," Ianto allowed, smiling at their easy banter. He'd missed it.

"Me too," Jack said, as if he'd read Ianto's thoughts. He probably had.

That night, when Jack sought out the pictures of his wedding in his office, he didn't do it alone. Ianto was there to exclaim "ooh-don't-you-look-handsome!" every so often, and smile at his bride and hold him when Jack remembered too much. Just like he always had.

The soft promise of Ianto's beating heart lulled him to sleep. Just like it always did.

And Jack's quiet mumble of "love you always" went blissfully unnoticed by Ianto. Just like it always would.