24

"But I thought she was fixed" Jack said with confusion.

"I thought you were getting Ringo fixed like I asked" Ianto shot back "and I know they said she was fixed but apparently she isn't. I doubt they had the right file or something. Point is… she is preggers."

"Wow.. we gonna keep one?" Jack was about to employ jazz hands as Ianto took a deep breath and jack deflated "One?"

"Yes."

"Owen told you how many, didn't he!" Jack accused as he watched Ianto's face.

"OK… but you can NOT tell Ton. He cannot know the amount just yet" Ianto warned "In case one dies."

"But?"

"Four."

"FOUR!"

"JACK!"

"Well… Myfanwy had two… so… does this mean it's not her first litter?" Jack asked and he wondered why Ianto's face changed to pure anger.

"First of all… a dog's first litter can still be a large one and secondly… Myfanwy had three. Remember? Three. One did not make it through the first night." Ianto said in that low deadly voice.

"Shit. Right… Marigold or whatever… right. The little girl. Sorry love, I forgot" Jack grimaced, Ianto's touchiness around that still there after a couple of decades. The same time Ton was diagnosed. Right.

"All lives are precious love, even if they were just a promise… I know that. I do" Jack soothed, reaching out to pull him in. "You worry so much about everyone… I know these puppies will drive you mad and I know you are already so attached to that dog that if anything happens it will kill you a little. I know. But she will be ok. We will do everything we can and so will she. Right?"

Ianto sighed as he leaned into his husband and nodded.

"Could be worse" Jack said softly to the shell of his beloved's ear "Could be eight."

Ianto snorted and pushed at him meekly as he was forced to agree.

I could be worse.

"I know" Ianto finally drew back and smiled at his love "Four is doable. Right? Four. Keep one, give three away."

"Right." Jack said with a gentle smile, his hands stroking that ramrod straight back.

Ton moved from outside the door with his plan coming to a head, perfectly. Four. Perfect number. Yes. Four is the right number, of course it is. Clever doggie, making just the right number of babies to go around for what Ton knows it the perfect solution to the problem.

Four.

One for each house.

Ours. Walt's. Babby's and Fen's!

And Tadda can look after them.