Two years ago

Jack basked in the tinkling laughter coming from the man seated across from him. Hadrian, Jack's mind supplying the other man's name like a magic word. It was a sound that he relished in, even though it was only released from the quiet Brit when Jack was making an absolute fool of himself. Because of the suave exterior the American put on all of the time, he didn't like to even hint at the fact that he could be a fool sometimes, but with Harry it didn't really matter. Jack just wanted to hear that laugh.

Harry.

That's what Jack had taken to calling him. Hadrian seemed a little shocked at first when the nickname slipped out of Jack's mouth, but the shock soon faded and it became commonplace. It was events like this that reminded Jack that he still had much to learn about Harry.

Jack didn't mind though, he had all the time in the world.

The two were currently being tourists in Scotland, taking in all of the major sights the country had to offer. They were currently settled in a pub, not a block away from the bed and breakfast the pair were staying at for the week.

One thing Jack could appreciate about Harry was his massive appetite for exploration and excitement, spending the majority of the trip with a massive smile affixed to his lips. Harry hadn't yet traveled with the tardis, but that was soon to come. Rose and the Doctor were off galavanting on some planet in a nearby galaxy, no doubt getting into trouble. That was something Jack would have been jealous over a few years ago, but he found there was nowhere he would rather be than right here.

He had never felt anything like what he felt around Harry. Jack didn't want to put a name to the emotion out of fear of their respective lines of work. There was no real reason to be afraid, given the rather special circumstances that made the two especially difficult, if not impossible, to kill. He couldn't remember why though.

Why couldn't Harry be killed?

Why was Harry so important to him?

Hell, Jack couldn't remember how they met.

So, why exactly was this the moment that surfaced in his deepest subconscious. Jack wasn't sure he would ever find the answer.

For now, he would just enjoy the view, and god it was beautiful. Or rather, Harry was beautiful. The scenic cliffs of Scotland paled in comparison. Jack wanted to live in this moment forever.

The American felt a tugging at his hand and focused upon the hand that held firm to Jack's own, and then to the captivating eyes of the man sitting next to him.

"So, where to next, kind sir?"

Jack took a second to think before answering, "Well, there are few castles that could be interesting to check out," and then seeing the especially heated look emanating from across the table, "or we could get dinner and some wine from the grocery in the center of town and take it back to our room."

Jack could hear the smile in Harry's voice, "That sounds like a fine idea to me."

They paid their tab at the pub and made their way over to the grocery store, picking up a simple supper of sliced smoked turkey, Swiss cheese, and some bread, along with a rather large bottle of moscato and some pumpkin pasties from a local bakery as dessert.

The pair sat at the small table in their hotel room, enjoying their dinner and taking in the waning crowd on the street through the small window in the room.

It wasn't long before the other man had fallen asleep where he sat, the wine and food making the British man sleepy. Jack sat for a second, a bit baffled as to what to do next, the liquor in his system slowing his thinking. After much thought, the American stood up and peeled back the made up covers on the bed. Next, he untied Harry's shoelaces and gently removed the British man's shoes from his feet, placing them on the ground next to the nightstand. Jack gingerly picked up the other man, planting Harry on the bed and tucking him in the covers. Finally, he swiftly and quietly packed away the food and removed his own shoes, setting them next to Harry's. Afterwhich, he elected to strip down to his boxers and joined Harry in the bed, reaching over to the lamp to turn out the light. Once he was settled, Jack turned over to face Harry in the bed, Harry stirring just enough for their legs to intertwine and hands to clasp onto each other.

Harry's tired voice whispered something that seemed to fill the room with its weight.

"I love you."

The two shared a tender kiss, before sinking into the bed, taking in each other's presence. Jack surprised himself with his easy response.

"I love you, too."

If Jack were to ever point out a time in his life where his life was perfect, it would be this day, this place, this moment. Of course, that would all change by noon the next day…

...

Today

Jack woke up in a cold sweat, wildly clutching at the opposite side of his bed. He was still alone. Jack wondered why he expected any different. He hadn't had a serious relationship with anyone in over 15 continuous years— something that his subconscious didn't seem to agree with. No matter, Jack had many other pressing matters to worry about other than his love life.

Thomas Green hung on Jack's brain, Jack desperately trying to figure out his importance.

Jack had stared at the door for a long time after Thomas left. His mind was swimming with knowledge, what he had gained and the lack thereof. It was going to take a decent amount of searching, but he would find out who Thomas truly is. 'The Boy Who Lived' sounded vaguely familiar but it was as if someone or something had wiped his memory clean. It seems as though the ever elusive Doctor was his only hope in figuring out just who Thomas is.

That was the hard part. There was no telling where the Doctor would be, but he did have a habit of showing up when it was necessary, so all Jack could do was wait.

That did not mean he couldn't do anything in the meantime.

Jack scoured all available governmental employee databases for 'Thomas Green'. Just about when he was going to lose hope, Jack found him.

It took an absurd amount of back pages and checking different departments, but Jack found one Thomas Green working in the financial department for MI5. MI5 definitely fit the bill for what Thomas dictated as his duties, namely gathering intelligence and the like.

There was little Jack could do to figure out who he was, short of going to every government agency with a description of Thomas and the hope that they'll willingly hand the man over. Why Jack wanted him so bad, Jack may never know. But having so many close encounters with the universe Jack knew, simply put, not to fuck with fate. So maybe it was his due diligence to pop into the nearest government buildings to look for him. He didn't have any plans for the day. Might as well.

Perhaps it was that same fate that brought him to MI5's front desk, the receptionist pointing him to the fifth floor once she saw his torchwood badge.

"You'll find him in accounting."