That was the first time I'd ever left the Hub, that I'd ever left for the day, without checking with Jack first. If he needed me to do something, if he didn't want me to go, if it wasn't okay that I just left… Well then, I really just don't give a shit. When I saw, when I witnessed Jack's reaction… I really did feel my heart shatter. I'm not being dramatic. There was an actual physical sensation. Feelings of absolute betrayal, and then that undeniable knowledge that everything Jack had ever said to me, all of it must have been a lie or at the very least deception, manipulation. Overwhelming sadness and loss. What I felt next was a complete hatred, a loathing… Not for Jack. Not even for Gwen, but for myself. How could I have let this happen, AGAIN? Of course it was my fault. How could I be so utterly stupid to have ever believed? To have trusted? Even if I don't know who Jack is, I should realize full well what he is. Furthermore, I should know that someone like him could never fall for someone like me. And it's not because I don't deserve someone stunning, charming, amazing… it's just that we were always so different, too different. It was never going to work between us, and I was being thick when I even tried… twice.

I found myself asking why couldn't Jack have chosen me? What did I do wrong? Found myself awash with self-pity. But images came to me as well. Memories. What did I do wrong? Nothing. Why couldn't Jack choose me? 'Cause he's a fucking idiot. He's the one making a mistake. A mistake that's gonna cost him, cost him me.

When I'd left the Hub I really didn't know what I was doing, where I was going. I stood and stared at the Bay for a while, at the railing just outside the Tourist Office door. If I'd moved two metres to my left, Jack would have been able to see me. As it was, I remained in the CCTV blind spot. The blind spot I'd told him about a half a dozen times before. The 12 page report was duly signed and returned to me to file in the archives. Ignored. Anyway, reckoned Gwen had left the Plass by now, so Jack would no longer have had a reason to be watching the CCTV anyway. Would it have mattered? If he had seen me standing there, staring out to the Bay. Would he have come out? Called? Cared? Well… Gwen wasn't around, so yeah, maybe he would have. What would I have done? Smiled and told him I was fine, or punched him in that lantern jaw of his and knocked him on his arse? I'd like to think the latter, but I should be honest with myself (seeing as no one else seems to be so inclined.) I'd just avoid him for a while, 'til I could figure out an excuse. A reason. Something so I don't have to tell him how worthless he makes me feel. Is that for him? Let him off easy, avoid confrontation. Or is it for me? So I can let myself pretend that he didn't hurt me so badly.

Funny that before… my Mp3 on random played Tom Jones and it was: We Got Love, Give a Little Love, It's Not Unusual or Love Me Tonight. Now… now it plays: Delilah, Without Love and I Who Have Nothing. Even my music player seems to tell me… Whatever it was, it's over.

I haven't stopped loving him. I think I'll always love Jack, can't help it really. I just can't be like this. I can't do it. It hurts too much. At least I'm not sitting here crying about it, not yet anyway. Really didn't know what I was planning, thinking or even considering when I drove there. Panache: 1980s retro club. It's the kind of place, neither gay nor straight; they really don't care and don't even ask you to decide. Which is helpful since, before Jack, I'd only ever thought of myself as straight. I don't think I was thinking of anything at all when I walked in to the pounding beat of What's Love Got to Do With It? But I think a plan had begun to form (involving lots of alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.) But before I'd even worked my way over to the bar, a rather strikingly attractive man had intercepted me. Green eyes and ginger. A shy smile. So different, so opposite. A new song had started, The Kinks, Don't Forget to Dance. The man reached out a tentative hand to my arm, smiled, asked me to dance… I must have said yes, 'cause he took my hand and led me to the still rather empty dance floor. 'You're gorgeous, you know?' in a quiet Scots accent. I smiled, but didn't know what to say, so instead we just danced. Slow, close, the smell of Calvin Klein, a soft touch, no one leading, no one needing to lead. I could feel myself relax. As the song faded and we pulled away from each other, perhaps a little reluctantly, I could see the smile in his eye as well as on his lips, a kind smile, shy. Before I could really think of exactly what to say (I think it was going to be something about buying the guy a drink,) there was a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see a girl with bright purple hair who came up roughly as high as my shoulder (the girl, not the hair.) She grinned and asked for the next dance. I turned back to the Scot and he nodded, 'Hard ta let ye go already. Will ye save another for me later, then?' I'd barely had a chance to smile and tell him okay when my new partner had spun me to face her, launching into a rather energetic set of moves to David Bowie's Modern Love. This was clearly the place to go to feel attractive, and wanted. And more than a little out of breath. As the evening progressed and the place grew increasingly crowded, I never got a single chance sit down. (It's strange, though, it seemed to be 'Find Ianto Jones a new theme song' night at Panache. So much of what they played was just too appropriate, considering the way I was feeling: Blondie, Heart of Glass; The Housemartins, We're Not Deep; Madness, Grey Day and Tomorrow's Just Another Day; and a whole slew of frighteningly suitable Phil Collins songs.) At least I was never left alone, never felt ignored, or like anyone's second choice. I now have a pocket full of names and numbers, including my ginger Scot, David MacDonald, of Glasgow. (Note to self: check job openings at Torchwood 2. A transfer might not be such a bad idea.) Overall yes, Club Panache made me feel attractive and desirable, but also a little too much like prey. It wasn't what I wanted, so after a few hours, I just went home. Alone.

Don't know how much I regret my decision to leave the club unaccompanied. Here still alone in my kitchen, I'm finding myself thinking of PC Ioan Davies' brilliantly white smile. Every time we meet he asks me to join him for a drink. His partner, PC Lewis, once told me that Ioan defends Torchwood whenever the others start in, he sites me as a counter example when his fellow officers use words like 'rude' and 'arrogant.' She also told me that he talks about me, a lot. Don't think a quiet, friendly drink is what he's after. I've picked up the phone and started to dial so many times I've lost track. Thinking again of dancing at the club tonight, I believe maybe I've chosen my new theme song, at least for now. I'm going with Phil Collins, You Can't Hurry Love. I can wait.

Okay Jones, you are a complete imbecile, and you're gonna end up getting exactly what you deserve… AGAIN. So no sooner had I finished the entry above and made myself a cup of tea when there was a knock at my door. Thinking it's probably just a sales pitch of some kind, ('cause the knock is light, tentative, not like anyone I know) I go to answer the door, mug in hand and a vanilla biscuit sticking from my mouth. There, darkening my door is none other than Jack. I must be a little numb by now, cause my only reaction is a mumbled, "What do you want?" through biscuit crumbs. Jack was quiet when he asked if we could talk. I just answered, "Whatever" and didn't close the door as I returned to the kitchen. There I waited, sipping my tea. Eventually Jack said that it looked good. Rolled my eyes, but made him a cup. Jack had shown up with flowers and chocolates, which he now put on my kitchen table with a small, almost shy, smile. I didn't say anything. Why should I make things any easier? The silence hung in the air. Once he had his tea and we moved into the living room, he started to speak in that halting and bashful manner… like back when he asked me out on the date. Once he got going, he quickly built-up steam and was soon talking at something approaching the speed of light. He told me that he realized how it all must have looked (mostly because Tosh had made it painfully clear, after I'd left.) It was as if a dam had broken. Jack, in a torrent, told me how he felt about me, that he didn't want Gwen, that he'd never felt that way about her, not really, not the way he feels for me. He apologized for not making everything much clearer, much earlier. I had to wonder exactly what Tosh had said to him, to prompt such a reaction, such an out-pouring from normally tight-lipped Jack. He took a deep breath at this point and I told him, much more calmly than I felt, "It just seems that you promise everything, in private. Like I'm special, like you care about me-" Jack interrupted, 'You are! I do!' It was something between an exclamation and a plea. I continued undaunted, however, "You offer a life full of wonder and promise… then like a switch is thrown and it's over, off again. Your interest is… elsewhere, and I'm left alone. I can't do that part anymore. I won't be… convenient. I'm sorry Jack, but I can't take it any more. And I really think I've been patient. I can't, not anymore." Had I been planning on telling Jack all this when he arrived at my door? Probably not. But the very fact that he denied his attraction to Gwen had seemed rather to confirm it all. Confirm that I'd finally made the right choice.

Jack was actually pleading now, I think maybe even crying when he said, 'Ianto, don't do this. Please. I've meant everything I've said to you… and everything I should have been saying. If I've made you feel anything else… I've been stupid and hopeless and thoughtless and arrogant… thinking that I could have you, someone like you… and not say and do all those things… but I can't loose you. Not you. You are the one thing in this life that I can truly depend on, the one person, maybe ever, who has ever seen me, really me… but doesn't probe, won't judge, despite…Tell me it isn't too late… Please tell me I haven't completely fucked things up between us?' In all the time I've known Jack, even in the most stressful, Earth shattering (literally) circumstance, he doesn't swear. Now he was looking at me, I could see that there really were tears in his eyes, 'What can I do? I'll do anything. Just tell me what to do…' In the pause that followed, I said it without thinking, without feeling, without even wanting it, "Fire Gwen." Jack whispered, 'What?' Still without thinking, I countered, "You're not serious. Forget it." I moved to put my mug on the table. 'No, Ianto. Wait.' I turned to see Jack, his eyes darting, mind visibly racing. He caught my eyes, swallowed hard and whispered, 'Okay.'

I stopped dead in my tracks. I told him I didn't mean it, but Jack continued, 'I'll have Owen work up a large enough retcon dose…' his mind already working through the details. I had to grab his arms to get his attention, "Jack. You know I don't want that. I'd never ask, not really. I love Gwen. It's just…" Jack's eyes met mine, and for the first time I saw what seemed to be a true understanding, 'You think I can't make up my mind between the two of you, while she's around?' Something like that. 'That I love Gwen, and that if it weren't for Rhys…' Yes. Exactly like that. 'Ianto, I'm not.' Not what? 'I'm not in love with Gwen. Really. I'm not interested in her romantically, sexually, erotically, emotionally, or in any other way similar to the ways I feel about… you.' Now I just stood, looking blankly at him. So what about all those looks? 'What looks?' I described a few… well, it ended-up a laundry list of all the times I felt like I'd lost him to her.

Jack just laughed. I was probably still too confused and off-balance to register a properly indignant response, and Jack continued, '99% of those times I was so frustrated, aggravated, or just plain pissed-off at her, I wanted to strangle her. She's… challenging. I need that sometimes, as a leader. Gwen has a different approach, on… well, just about everything. Sometimes I'm too focused on the future, she makes me see the present, the human side to the mission. That conflict might come across as passion, but as I said, 99% just furious.' I looked for a sign in his eyes that this was a cover, that it was something else… seeing nothing that led me to think this wasn't at least what he believed; I asked what about the other 1%? Jack grinned, 'Well, c'mon… she is kinda cute… that gap in the teeth and all…' I glared. Jack grinned. I frowned. Jack broke first, 'You're cuter.' I surrendered and smiled too. Jack ventured, 'So…' a hint of that boyish smile, 'Do I get another chance?'

I couldn't help but laugh, just a little. Jack looked like a drowning man who's just spotted the last life preserver. But I needed time to think, "Maybe. I… don't know." Jack's expression flickered, like maybe that last life preserver was now being chewed upon by a rather large shark. Jack waited in the living room as I went to make us some more tea. The CD player in the kitchen had been playing all this time, largely ignored. Couldn't help but sing along now, quietly… it's Keith Urban (Go if you wanna go. Stay if you wanna stay. My heart's not a game you can play with, and put away.) I moved about the kitchen and wiped down the counter. (Baby tryin' to figure you out, could make a man go insane.) It's getting late, so this time I reach for the tin of decaf. (I never want to be the one, who kept you from being free.) The kettle's just starting to steam. (I gotta know what you want, because I've taken all I can take.) Warm the teapot. Where did I leave that packet of biscuits? (Every time you decide, to spread your wings and fly, You make the same mistake, and I can't take any more goodbyes.) Add the tea and pour the water. (I don't want to feel alone, whenever you go away. So just go if you wanna go. Stay if you wanna stay.) As the tea was steeping, I heard a sound behind me as the CD player suddenly skipped a few songs and started again. (Rollercoaster? Really?) Apparently not the right track after all, as Jack muttered softly under his breath and hit the skip button once again.

Slightly embarrassed that Jack had caught me singing, I decidedly hadn't turned around. A new song started, apparently the right one this time. I felt Jack move closer, felt his breath on my neck as he sang along (I thought you knew. I guess I assumed too much. I don't know how, but now we're so far out of touch. And I, never planned, to so misunderstand.) Jack placed his hands on my shoulders, (But what you needed, you never asked me to give. And I swear as I live, I thought you knew, my heart was yours, and that we were so together, and that we would always be. I don't believe, that you leaving me's the answer.) He wrapped his arms around me and held me from behind. Knowing I should resist, pull away and give myself time to think, I relaxed into his embrace instead (I'm not asking you, to let me rush back in, and fail again. I'm asking for one chance, not to assume.) Jack turned me to face him and when our eyes met, (So I can say and do, all the things, I thought you knew.)

Maybe I'm too trusting, or maybe it was the look deep in his eyes, but I can't help it. Maybe I'm hopeless, maybe I'm weak, and maybe I'll regret it, but I've come to realize I can't resist it. I don't want to resist it. I want to at least try, because I so want it to work. I so want Jack. So there we were… third time's the charm? Maybe. God, I hope so. Because I'm giving Jack one last chance- Seriously. Last chance. His reply? Typical Jack, 'Really? I don't even have to beg? I was prepared to beg. Down on my knees and everything.' I told him no, he'd still have to beg, but for other things. And he will, down on his knees and everything.

I fully expected Jack to spend the night, anticipated that he'd expect us to 'make-up.' So a little while later, when he kissed me and said it was late and he should get going, I was a bit surprised. It obviously showed. Jack just smiled that shy smile and said, 'You know I always want to be with you. Always. But I figured you need to see that isn't all I want from you… or need.' I fixed him with an icy glare. What about what I want? What I need? I told Jack to shut-up, took him by the braces, and led him to the bedroom. My bedroom.

I woke-up to find myself alone in my bed. Before I even had sufficient chance to over-think that, I realized that Jack hadn't left me on my own. He was, in fact buried in my wardrobe, going through my things again. I guess he'd realized I was awake and watching him, because without pulling his head from the depths, he was suddenly holding out my Ghost Hunters crew jacket and asking, 'So, what's this?' It's a WWII bomber plane, what does it look like? Jack pulled himself out of my wardrobe and sat on the end of my bed with the jacket, 'So, is there a vest and trousers to go with this? Not quite like the rest of your suits.' Did he want to hear about it, or not? Yes, he did. So I told him. At the end, after sitting through my entire story perched on the end of my bed like a child at story-time, Jack just laughed. He thought I was kidding and said I should just admit I'd bought the thing on-line. When I denied that, he said I should, 'prove it.' Jack then went on to tell me, 'Ya know, Ianto, little boys who tell fibs get spanked.' I replied, "No Jack, that's what little boys who go through other people's wardrobes get." With that, I went to take my shower. I don't feel the need to prove anything.

By the time I was done with my shower, Jack had obviously made himself quite at home. I came out, dressed for work, to ask him what he wanted for breakfast. Jack was sprawled across my bed with several of my things in front of him. Centrally located and obviously next for examination, the Quality Street tin. I froze. More so, it seemed like the world around me froze. Should I grab it from him? (No, that'd only raise more questions.) Pretend to faint? (No, too Jane Austin.) Grab Jack and distract him… physically? (No, well, maybe. We'll call that Plan B.) I could think of an excuse, think of a lie… Okay, maybe not. I braced for the worst as Jack opened the box and peered inside. I waited, horrorstruck, as he leafed through the slips of paper, one-by-one. He held one up, turned it upside down and squinted at it before finally asking, 'What's that name?' Confused, I answered: Caradoc. 'Welsh?' Yes. 'Guy or girl?' Guy. 'Ah.' Jack continued digging to the bottom before closing the box and looking at me, 'So… You've slept with all these people?' He asked it with such earnestness, but in a way I had no clue as to the emotion behind the question. Or if, indeed, he was even serious. There had to be a couple of hundred names on slips of paper, business cards and pub serviettes. Did he really think? He must have, because next he asked, 'Still keep in touch with any of them?' Did I detect that tinge of jealousy? I finally willed my brain to work enough to ask if he was kidding. He didn't answer, so I told him they were given to me in pubs, parks, airports, concerts and the like. (Quite a few while I manned the desk of the Tourist Information office, in fact.) Just didn't seem polite to throw them away. Jack squinted at me. Assessing, 'Never called any of them? Not even once? How far do these go back?' Since I moved back to Cardiff. Jack's jaw actually dropped. He rattled the box, 'All these… in two and a half years?' (I didn't really lie when I said yes, because it had been within that time period, just actually less. I didn't want to bring up that it was only since Lisa had… that I hadn't accepted any phone numbers while she was still in the basement.) It was hard to read the grin that spread across Jack's face. If I didn't know better, I'd almost say it was a look of pride.

After Jack and I had breakfast, we rode in to work together. It was a quiet hour and a half before I saw Owen and Tosh's cars pull into the lot on CCTV. They walked in together, arguing about something or the other and it took a moment for either of them to notice me at my station. When Owen did see me I smiled a good morning, but he immediately turned back to Tosh and hissed her name. When she looked at him, he nodded his head in my direction. As soon as Tosh focused on me she spun to look into Jack's office (empty, as he was doing the rounds of the vaults that he did every morning after spending the night away.) Tosh was over at my desk in a flash. I told her that the coffee wouldn't be but a minute. 'Forget the coffee-' Tosh started. Owen interrupted with, 'Oi! Hold on. Coffee first, then ask.' Tosh told me to ignore Owen and asked, 'So? What happened? Did he get down on his knees? Did he beg? I told him he should beg.' Owen had moved to stand behind Tosh, 'Yeah, and I told him to buy you a new car. Nothing says sorry for being such an insensitive twat, like buying a car.' After a glare from Tosh, he added, 'Yeah, yeah, and I should know all about being an insensitive twat. So what happened?' I never needed to answer as Jack entered the Hub right then. Without a moment's hesitation, he sauntered up to where I was pouring the coffee. He took the mug I offered him and took a sip, 'Hmmmm, that's better. And it's about time, too.' Jack put his arm around my waist, kissed me on the cheek, and headed to his office with a call back over his shoulder of, 'And good morning team. C'mon, work to do. World won't save itself.' I've never seen Tosh so giddy, and Owen actually grinned before wandering off. Tosh made me promise to give her details later.

When I went to see Jack in his office, he looked up from the U.N.I.T. report on his desk with a frown, then he smiled, 'Distract me?' So I went to sit on the edge of his desk. Jack leaned back, swung his legs to capture mine and just grinned at me, 'So they know.' Yep. 'And they don't mind?' Jack and I glanced out through the window at Tosh, hard at work. Sensing that she was being watched, she turned to look at us. She grinned and gave us two thumbs-up before returning to work. Apparently, no, they didn't mind. Jack told me that last night, after I'd… disappeared, he'd asked the others if they knew where I was. Tosh had torn into him with 'the furry of a Racnoss with a migraine' (I'm assuming that's fierce.) Jack said that she'd yelled at him, telling him in no uncertain terms that he'd been a complete arse and that if he didn't do something, and fast, I'd be lost to him forever. Have I mentioned how much I love Tosh? (Note to self: buy Tosh a really nice thank you gift… like a new house.) So the flowers had been at Tosh's insistence? And the chocolates? 'Well, those were Owen… who also suggested that after the way I'd acted, I probably should buy you something bigger, a car or something… Do you want a new car?' I never got a chance to reply as the proximity alert sounded and the cog door rolled back to reveal Gwen. Jack had stood and taken a step towards the door to his office, 'Give me a minute, okay?' Jack. 'Ianto. I just need to talk to her, really. Won't be long.' He stroked a finger down my cheek, 'Really.'

Jack entered the Hub with a cheery, 'Morning Gwen. Can I have a minute?' He then proceeded to escort her down towards the conference room. Really don't know what I was thinking as I walked into the Hub a moment later. It was clear what Tosh and Owen thought as they were suddenly at my side. Tosh had a hold of my arm, as if she thought letting go I might disappear, or collapse. Owen was grumbling choice Owen phrases, before finally asking me outright if I wanted him to, 'Shoot fucking Jack fucking Harkness stone-cold fucking dead?' No, but thanks for asking. Five minutes, quite a few guesses as to what was going on, and several more offers of murder later, Gwen and Jack reemerged from the corridors. Gwen, a beaming smile on her face, just waved and said, 'Bye everyone!' and hurried out the door and up the stairs. She didn't even wait for the lift. Gwen always waits for the lift. By this time Jack had made his way back over to where we were standing, visibly noting the way Tosh had hold of my arm (which was now almost numb due to restricted blood flow.) 'You plan on letting go of my archivist there, Toshiko? I have work for him to do.' Jack unlatched Tosh's grip and smoothed the creases from my jacket sleeve, before trailing his hand down my arm and taking my hand. 'By the way, I've sent Gwen on a bit of a vacation. She and Rhys'll be in Paris for the next week. Nice break.' (Jack never did specify if the break was for her, or for us.) In any case, Owen clapped me on the back before wandering back towards autopsy with a grumbled, 'Never sends me to Paris. Not that I'd want Paris.' Tosh followed him, still smiling with a, 'Well, at least now you won't have to kill Jack again.' 'Yeah. Whatever. Paris?'

Jack asked me what all that had been about, especially the whole 'killing Jack' thing. Told him it was nothing, just teammates showing support. He led me back to his desk, physically positioning me as we'd been before the interruption, 'Now then, where were we?' Jack and I talked some more about… things. Jack was still upset at Gwen for not following orders, endangering everything, the mission, because of Rhys. Worse yet, he pointed out, her actions had endangered me. At that point, his voice dropped to barely a whisper, 'And that's one thing I'll never put-up with.' Jack said that Gwen does bring something unique to the team, but that so do I. And it's my class of unique that he wants intimate knowledge of. He went on to say that I should realize that Gwen's just a bit… high maintenance. I told him that's fine, but he has to realize that I'm not exactly maintenance-free, myself. He laughed and promised to keep that in mind. He put on that pseudo-serious look as he stood up. His feet braced on either side of mine, he leant forward. His hands flat on the desk on either side of me, he leant even further forward. I had to lean back slightly, just to keep his face in focus, close as he was. He asked me to come and talk to him any time I was feeling neglected, or secondary, or unimportant. (If I did that every time, I'd never leave his office.) He made me promise I'd talk with him before I assumed I knew what he was thinking or feeling, and especially before making any decisions based on those assumptions. I told him that was a good plan, as long as he was willing to talk to me as well. Jack pledged that he would. When I told Jack I'd never said anything, about feeling rejected, because I didn't think he'd want the drama, he gave me that look and told me that I'm worth the drama. He said I'd, 'Be worth a whole soap opera.' Jack's made me promise that anytime I feel that he's paying undue attention to anyone, Gwen included, I'm to hit him. Literally. So there we stood, now in silence, with me rather pinned to Jack's desk. He was probably waiting for me to break first, but little did he realize, I could stay like that all day. Jack finally gave in and moved the final few inches to kiss me.

After that, the rest of the morning has been taken-up largely with mundane procedural rubbish. Jack had a conference call scheduled with U.N.I.T. so I left him to it. Spent a half hour resorting the recycle bins, moved on to further researching royal blood lines (literally) and then sorted and re-filed the archived team reports from 1973 to 1976 (whose brilliant idea was it to file them by how exciting the mission was, rather than chronologically?)

Tried to run-down a weevil on foot tonight. Ended-up instead doubled-over coughing. Apparently, my pneumonia is subject to relapse. Would have been nice for someone to have mentioned that, somewhere along the way. In any case, Owen says I'm okay, just some temporarily diminished lung capacity. Now Jack's over with Owen talking about keeping me confined to the Hub again for a while. What, just for tonight? What's that look? And why is Owen rolling his eyes? Did Owen's warning against strenuous activity just make Jack pout?

Yep, Jack kept me confined last night, but not to the Hub. I didn't know that a medical warning against physical exertion coupled with shallow breathing could be turned to such advantage. Leave it to Jack to figure a way. That was… unique.

This morning Tosh asked me how long Jack and I have been '…you know.' I stammered out something that almost resembled English. She blushed and looked away, explaining that she'd just been thinking of all those stories Jack had been telling lately… of his exploits… She looked at me, 'Those were you, weren't they? All of them?' I didn't just blush, I spontaneously burst into flame. Seriously, why can't the Rift just consume me?

Asked Jack about the abattoir. He just looked at me blankly. The processing plant for the alien meat… Caerwen Abattoir? Where the meat was going in the lorry… That dawning look of realization. 'Good thinking, Ianto. Level five retcon, and take Owen with you.' Brilliant.

Owen and I are on the way back from the abattoir. On the way there, we argued about whom, and how much, to retcon. Owen was right, that full doses for everyone would be quick and easy. Still, I didn't like the idea. There would be those who had no idea what was going on with the alien meat. What sorts of memories would we be stealing from innocent people? Weddings, their kid's birthday, first dates, break-ups, make-ups? Six months was too much to take from people who didn't deserve it at all. Owen eventually settled into the argument that Jack had ordered level five, period. I told him to let me deal with Jack. At that, Owen had frowned at me, then just shrugged. Brilliant, now that I've gotten my way, now I get to go and tell Jack that I disobeyed his orders.

In a wonderful delaying tactic, we stopped for lunch on the way back. Somehow all I was in a mood for was salad. Owen agreed. Also got take-away for Jack and Tosh (strange, not ordering for Gwen as well.) So at least Jack will probably have his mouth jammed full of food when he screams at me for disobeying him and altering the mission.

Sure enough, Jack's mouth was packed when I told him. I waited while he swallowed. Waited for the worst. When he'd finally swallowed enough of his mouthful to speak, he said, 'Good.' What, your lunch? 'Well, yeah.' Jack swallowed the rest, 'That too. But no, your change of plans.' I told him I was worried he might be angry. 'Why? You were right. Only a few of the employees knew about the shipments, and as you found out, they didn't have a clue that it was alien. So no point in over-doing the retcon. Good thinking. Have you tried this?' Jack offered me a bite. As I chewed I thought about it, I really had believed that he was going to be cross with me. After swallowing, I agreed that it did taste quite good, especially considering it was warmed-up. Jack continued, 'Why did you think I'd be annoyed? You did the right thing, for the right reasons. Like you always do, well, usually do… Well you always have the right reasons at least... This is sounding less complementary than I intended. I really should stop… Sometimes I just don't know when to stop.' Jack took a deep breath, 'You have a strong sense of right and wrong. Trust yourself to do the right thing, Ianto. I do.'