Jack was determined that work could wait, if only for a while. With Gwen and Rhys agreeing to go home for the afternoon, he had also managed to persuade Martha and Mickey to get some rest while they were gone. Everyone was exhausted. It had been a long night. But it had been worth it.

He had Ianto back again.

But there were a few more things Jack wanted to do. For starters, Ianto had been in the suit he'd died in for far too long and he'd wanted to buy him a new suit ever since he'd pulled him out of the rubble. Also, Jack wanted his gun back. He meant what he'd said to Ianto at the pub before – bullets wouldn't stop a ghost. Nor did he think they'd have much effect on Syriath. Bullets couldn't stop magic. But not having his gun at his hip was making him anxious. He always wore it when he wasn't at the Hub, and even then, he still had it nearby if it wasn't in his holster. He needed it back.

When Jack had proposed that he and Ianto go out for the afternoon, it had resulted in all six of them arguing for almost half an hour. Actually, it was more Gwen and Martha arguing between themselves and then with Jack. Rhys and Mickey would occasionally pitch in with the occasional point. Jack was grateful of the Welshman whose calm rhetoric was often the only thing that could soothe Gwen, who despite teetering on the edge of exhaustion, was determined not to let either Jack or Ianto be left alone.

Martha was also against the idea of the two of them being left to their own devices for too long, however, was willing to let them go under certain conditions. Mickey was willing to monitor them, so long as he didn't have to hang around when 'the inevitable happened', as he so eloquently put it.

Now that Jack was slowly coming to accept that there was an issue (not with Ianto, he knew Ianto and this was Ianto, but rather with Syriath) he could understand their concern. But Martha had medically cleared Ianto – he was human, and humans didn't just disappear for no reason – so he was less worried on that front. Nothing would happen whilst they were gone. They were only going into town.

In the end, the two of them had left the hotel for the afternoon alone, although no doubt Mickey was following them through CCTV at Martha's insistence. Ianto had accepted the portable monitor to wear around his wrist, similar to what Owen had worn on the first day of his resurrection. It looked a bit like one of those fancy steps trackers, so hopefully, no one would pay it much notice whilst they were out. Rhys also let them borrow his mobile again in case of emergencies, neither of the two men having their own. Jack had gotten rid of his before he left for Wales, and Ianto's phone, along with his comm. unit, had been lost in the blast. It was something else they needed to buy.

First though, they caught the bus to the Cardiff Safe Deposit where Jack was reunited with one of his beloved Webley service revolvers. He had several of his preferred guns in storage, ready for when his current gun was inevitably damaged beyond repair. Jack was far more indestructible than his weapon of choice. The last one he'd lost had been destroyed along with the Hub. Having only used this one for the last six months, its metal had yet to be worn smooth over years of service, but Jack loved it all the same. With it back by his side, along with Ianto, the world seemed to have rightened. He also pocketed the brown envelope of cash, along with the relevant documents to reinsert himself back into society.

Ianto would need some forged documents too if he were to remain on Earth. Privately, Jack wondered if Ianto might like to find a new life out in the stars with him. He had once come back for Ianto once before (come back for his team, for all of them, but he'd been offered a trip in a Time Machine so he could have come back later at any time, and they would have been none the wiser, but he'd needed to see Ianto again), but maybe without Torchwood, they could travel together. Jack still didn't want to stay on Earth – the memories of those he killed lingering like ghosts – but for Ianto, Jack would if he asked him. But if Ianto wanted to leave too, then he would happily take him to the stars.

But for now, Jack was happy walking hand in hand through Cardiff Market with Ianto. They'd had a successful afternoon, apart from one minor wobble.

Jack had enjoyed watching Ianto pick out dress shirts and suits in the shop in the Highstreet and revelled in the chance to spoil him. Ianto, on the other hand, hadn't been so keen on the number of items Jack was pulling off the shelves.

"I can't afford that!" Ianto had hissed quietly when the young man who was fitting him had walked over to the table to refold the gorgeous dark red shirt Ianto had just tried on. "Put it back."

Jack had simply chuckled nonplussed, used to Ianto's ways. "It's my treat. You'll look stunning in it. Go on, try it on!"

"You can't buy me that, it's too much!" Ianto had protested. "I'll just get those shirts and trousers. I can come back and buy the rest later if I've got enough leftover at the end of the month."

The teasing grin had slipped from Jack's face. Ianto's face had turned sad too.

"Ianto…" he had sighed. He'd taken him by the arm, leading him back to the changing room, calling over his shoulder to the assistant that they'd be back in a minute. "Ianto," he had said delicately once they were alone, "your accounts were closed down six months ago, remember? You don't have any money. You died."

Ianto had stared back at him silently then closed his eyes tight. "I'm sorry," he had whispered, and Jack had drawn him into his arms where Ianto rested his forehead on Jack's shoulder. "I forgot. For a moment then, I forgot. How could I do that?"

"I did too," Jack had admitted.

It had been easy to forget that they weren't at a different shop to the one Ianto preferred as Jack wasn't too sure who knew Ianto was dead (the gentleman who ran the family-owned business surely had noticed the lack of his presence as Ianto had been a regular customer who had until recently visited at least once a month if he could) rather than because Ianto had banned him from coming with him in fear of Jack sullying his good name. That had been a rule Ianto had firmly implemented since the incident in the TK Maxx dressing room, though both men had enjoyed themselves thoroughly that day and long into the night. It was easy to pretend that the last six months had simply been a bad dream, that Jack was out, spoiling him just because he deserved it rather than it coming down to the simple fact that Ianto had no other clothes. For a few brief moments, Jack had forgotten the heartache and guilt only for it to come crashing down again.

His eyes had filled with tears. Ianto's probably had too, but they were both too proud to let them fall in public.

"I don't even remember dying," Ianto had said so quietly that Jack had almost missed it.

He had had to swallow the lump in his throat then. "Good. I hope you never do."

The joyful teasing mood had never quite returned once they left the dressing room, although Ianto did allow Jack to purchase some of the more extravagant items of clothing with a soft smile.

They were on their way back to the hotel now, laden down with shopping bags, when Ianto decided to make a quick detour to the florist to get Gwen a bunch of flowers. Jack had chuckled when he had announced that he hadn't got Gwen anything to celebrate her pregnancy.

Jack wasn't too sure if Ianto remembered the exact nature of Gwen's unexpected announcement of her pregnancy, or if it was something he had learnt upon seeing her last night. But he didn't dare ask Ianto outright in fear of upsetting him again. On balance, Jack didn't think that he had any memories past the day before the 456 used the children of earth to announce their presence. He hadn't asked after his niece or nephew nor his sister, and Jack was sure he would have if he had any memory of the dire situation he had left them in.

He quickly pushed that thought away. It didn't matter. Ianto was back.

Jack was enjoying spending time with him, relaxing in a way they'd never managed while working for Torchwood. There was no danger of an incoming Rift Alert interrupting their time, nor an unexpected phone call from the Hub demanding Jack's and/or Ianto's presence. They were free to do with their time as they pleased. Together, they were almost a normal couple. The closest they'd come to this before was during the month they'd lived together undercover at Serenity Plaza trying to track down the undercover Sleeper Agent. Jack had loved it there, minus the threat of impending doom if the Cell activated. Although, the adrenaline it had added had certainly been a bonus.

He had loved waking up with Ianto each morning, loved coming back home to him each evening at a sensible time, loved that they finally managed to spend time with each other. But it had been more than that. Jack had loved being able to call Ianto his boyfriend, to kiss him goodbye and hello, and loved to finally be able to tell Ianto that he loved him. The whole incident had occurred just a few short weeks after Jack had realised quite just how much he loved him. Trapped alone in his own personal hell, he knew Ianto would come and save him. And he had.

But Ianto wasn't big on declarations of love or traditionally romantic gestures. Whether it was because of what happened to the last woman he loved or because of the sketchy circumstances that their affair had begun (a snog initiated by Ianto followed by a one-night stand, only for Ianto to proposition him with a stopwatch the next week, and all this only two months after Jack held a gun to his head threatening to shoot him dead and four months since the fall of Canary Wharf), Jack didn't know. Ianto had said that he had hated it there at Serenity Plaza, but Jack had been able tell that secretly there'd been parts that he'd quite liked too.

However, whilst Jack was enjoying the sun beaming down on them through the Market's glass roof, Ianto was sending a few shifty glances around.

"You okay?" Jack asked him, squeezing his hand gently.

Ianto whipped his head round to look at him, eyes slightly wide. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure? If you're not feeling okay, then I'm sure-"

"Jack, I'm fine," he interrupted, shaking his head. "It's nothing."

Jack looked around then pulled them into a doorway of a vacant lot. "No, what is it?" he asked softly. "What's wrong? You can tell me."

Ianto sighed and looked down at the floor. "It's stupid. It's just, being out here, with you… you know." He ran a hand through his hair as his cheeks flushed.

"Me holding your hand?"

"I told you it was stupid. Forget it." Ianto tugged his hand free and make to walk off, but Jack grabbed his arm.

"I've held your hand in public before, Ianto," he said gently. "I didn't think you minded."

Ianto wouldn't meet his gaze. "Like I said, I'm just being stupid."

"No. No, you're not. It's my fault. If you don't want me to, then I-"

"No!" Ianto's ears started to redden at his outburst. "No, I liked it," he added bashfully.

Jack smiled and his own cheeks redden too. "I liked it too."

Ianto took his hand again, looked around, then leant in and kissed him briefly. It was only a quick brush of soft lips meeting his own, but Jack thought his heart would give out. "Come on," Ianto said, leading them out of the doorway. "I think the Florist is this way."