Ianto was hidden behind a mound of management textbooks when Ally got in and gave her a grunt of welcome whilst she hung her coat up. She chortled and crossed to his desk to push the textbook away so that she could read the title. "A Handbook of Management Psychology?" she grimaced. "And I thought that Commander Bell's inventory of UNIT weaponry was dry."

"I've been at this since I got in," Ianto told her with a sigh. "Two hours later and all I've really succeeded in doing is tying my brain in knots. On the plus side... I can't find one, actually. I thought I'd finished with writing essays when I dropped out of university."

"Didn't you do reports at Torchwood?" she asked. "They're much the same."

"Not really, I knew what I was talking about on my field reports," he sighed. "Power culture, the team needs to be task oriented and at least the leader needs to be outcome oriented. Needs a leader with as much personal power as legitimate power and the charisma to carry it off. For nearly a hundred years, the team has revolved around Jack because he is the hingepin, the one who can make the decisions that need making and give the orders to achieve that."

"Speaking of which," Ally turned and went to her own desk; she had to confess, she'd stopped listening. "You took time off because one of your colleagues there died, but he's not dead. People have been asking questions."

He sighed and made a note on a post-it, then snapped the book shut and put it down. "He was dead when I arrived in Cardiff, the Torchwood happened, now he's not. Or at least he's walking and talking."

She'd long since given up being surprised by what Torchwood, UNIT and the other associations she dealt with threw up, but this was a new one. Ianto was staring down at the next textbook, turning the pages slowly but too regularly for him to be actually reading it. Ally rested her elbows on the desk and laced her fingers together, perching her chin on her fingers. "That sounds like an improvement."

"Oh definitely," he agreed. "Just... very Torchwood, I guess."

"How is everyone?" she asked.

"They're dealing, varying levels of well. Owen's dealing least well, Gwen best I think," he sighed and scribbled another note. "It's not like we're not used to dealing, after all."

"How are Jacqui and Martin?"

"Looking forwards to be back here," he sighed. "Gods it's mad in Cardiff – utterly insane, honestly."

Ally raised her eyebrows and looked down at her work. "I'd never guessed. They feel a bit left out, I think. The team's very close, and they're a bit older..."

"I know, it's hard to settle into a team like that," he agreed. "Tuckman's model of team formation, forming, storming, norming and performing. Once the team is normed, they are resistant to any outside influence which would return them to the storming stage."

"Ianto, stop talking like a textbook, it doesn't suit you," she put her pen down suddenly. "Actually, it does; you sound like one of my lecturers. How's Jack?"

Ianto swallowed and smiled. "Jack's fine."

"When are you seeing him next?"

"Friday; I'm moving back in with him," he told her quietly.

Ally put her mug down slowly and stared at him. "But what about work here? You're just going to..."

"No, no," he interrupted quickly. "I'm just going to commute. I'll drive over there on Friday and back to the conference on Monday, so I can take my stuff over, and after then I'll take the train."

"Every day?" she held up a finger and logged onto her computer to find the details. Ianto watched her patiently, then got up to make himself another coffee. Eventually her whistle made him look up. "Ianto, that's a three hour journey in each direction every day. It'll kill you."

He shrugged and went back to his desk. "It's not too bad. It will mean that I can have my emails dealt with by the time I get into the office, and I can finish them off on my way home."

"You are far too conscientious," she smirked. "I'm more worried about how it will affect your sleep."

"My sleep will be much better," he told her uncomfortably. "It always is when I go home."

She clasped her hands in front of her chest and fluttered her eyelashes. "How romantic," then snorted. "I assume you know what you're doing."

"Sometimes," he agreed. "Anyway, have you thought about my suggestion?"

"Which suggestion?" she asked absently as she returned to her work, checking her emails for that one she was expecting from UNIT. Then the topic of conversation twigged something in her mind and she looked up at him, meeting his gaze. "Oh, that suggestion. I've thought about it, yeah," she confirmed.

Ianto put his mug down and started typing. "And what do you think?"

She bit her lip. "Well... I'm interested but... Are you sure I'm capable? All those things, the charisma and the decision making, I don't know if I could do it."

"What I'm going to suggest, if you accept, is sending you to Cardiff to join the team for a period, long enough for you to come back here and do a changeover with me, so that I can support you in charge before I leave. I'd be in Cardiff at nights, and Jack would push you. I think, we both think, actually, that you have the potential. It's just a case of extracting it."

"So when would I go?"

"Well..." he was looking at his screen and checking something. "No point doing it before Christmas, as UNIT's going to be in and covering. I'm going to aim for June, I think, with Jack. So if you go to Cardiff in January, and we start the changeover here at the end of March. I think that'll work best."

"It seems a long way off," she commented.

"Only a couple of months," Ianto pointed out. "And it gives us time to get your new team in place."

"My team," she laughed mirthlessly. "That's a weird concept. Ianto, I'm twenty three, I'm not ready for this."

"And I'm twenty six, and I've been with Torchwood for seven years," he told her shortly. "In Cardiff, five years is long enough to qualify for a Torchwood pension and being able to use it with all your memories intact. It's not age and experience that matters, just how you use what you've got."

Nodding, Ally turned back to the schedules in front of her. "You've got a copy of this week's schedule, I hope."

"I do," he confirmed. "Can you call Anthony and see if Gordon can fit me in before the weekend? I need to run this by him before I go and present it on Tuesday. And I need to get him to sign off on his report as well."

She dialled and trapped the phone between her shoulder and her ear. "There's talk of a 'very private secretary'", she told him whilst she waited for Anthony to answer. "Scuttlebutt, I imagine, but there's a name?"

"What name?" Ianto asked in interest.

"Anthony, darling," Ally greeted him, laying it on thick. "How are you?" his curt response made her laugh and she dropped the veneer. "Has your inconvenience got time to meet with my inconvenience in the next three days? Tonight at four? Excellent, yeah, Ianto can make that. Thanks, Anthony. Tonight? No, I'm not doing anything tonight? Sure, I'd love to. Okay, I'll see you later then," she put the phone back down in its holster and entered Ianto's meeting in the calendar. "He'll see you at five. I mean four. Definitely four. I did say four, didn't I?"

"You said four," Ianto confirmed. "What are you and Anthony up to tonight, then?"

"Not that it's any of your business," she raised her eyebrows and sent the alert to Ianto's email. "We're going out for Mexican food and a drink after work."

"I'm saying nothing," he said, going back to his textbooks. "And I should get on with this, if I'm seeing Gordon this afternoon, and I'm expecting a call regarding the conference as well."

"Yeah, you'd better," she agreed. "What do you want from me?"

"That inventory from UNIT, I need you to cross reference it with Torchwood's. The Torchwood notes are nice and detailed – I know, because I did them," he smiled at her groan and scribbled yet another note. "It needs doing, Ally."

"I know," she sighed and got on with it. "Still a pain in the ass though."

Ianto gave Gordon his report and settled into the armchair across from him. "I wasn't built for serious study," he says solemnly. "I think I may have exhausted my braincells."

"What, both of them?" he asked. "Are you set for Monday?"

Ianto looked sideways at him disapprovingly and sighed. "Nearly. I need you to sign off on these reports and put the presentations together – that'll be tomorrow's job – and then, yeah I'm ready."

"I see," Gordon leaned back in his chair. "How is your deceased colleague?"

"Not deceased any more," Ianto frowned. "Which is always an improvement, even with Owen."

"You say anymore..."

"He was dead when I arrived, then Jack brought him back almost by accident and we finished running around Cardiff saving the day at about six yesterday morning," he smiled wryly. "There was a device called the Risen Mitten, which could bring people back to life for a short while, just long enough to say goodbye. It drove one of my colleagues mad and she turned into a serial killer so that she could practice using it. So that one was destroyed," Gordon was staring at him and he shrugged. "This is Cardiff, strange things happen. Anyway, Owen died and Jack thought it would be a good idea to find the other Risen Mitten and bring him back for long enough to get the code to the alien morgue. But it worked differently, and Owen came back permanently and it unleashed Death onto Cardiff. But it's all okay now, because Owen defeated Death and he's still here and I'm now commuting from Cardiff to London every day because I moved back in with Jack."

"How do you deal with it?" Gordon asked eventually.

Ianto sighed heavily and shook his head. "Badly. I don't actually know how much longer I can keep doing this, even once I get back to Cardiff full time."

"What are you thinking of?"

He shrugged. "Retiring, starting a family? I need to get away from Torchwood, from Cardiff and from aliens like I tried to coming here, but I can't do it without Jack, and he'd never come."

"Talk to him," Gordon instructed gently. "He has forever to give to Torchwood, you only have a very short time to give to him."