Author's Note: So this trip appears to have turned into Jack and Ally doing lots of things that I want to do but haven't the time or the money for. There is a purpose, do not fret!

There is also a porpoise... sort of.

Ianto stretched and stood up, poking Ally with his toe on his way past to collect his bag. "We're here," he told her in answer to her blinking. "You slept all the way."

"I would have slept even more if they hadn't insisted on waking me up in Hong Kong," she grumbled. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Not a lot," he held her bag out for her and offered her his arm when she took the bag. "Not on this leg, anyway. I got some work done and watched Top Gear instead."

"Productive. Someone is still cheerful," she shook her head fondly and pushed him to go ahead through the narrow door. "Now, I wonder... Is that the perks of flying first class that does that, or a certain someone who was there to see you off at the airport?"

He laughed and searched through his bag for his passport and boarding card. "Probably the latter. It was nice to see him again."

"You know, I was getting that impression," she tugged his arm towards baggage collection and they joined the queue to get through the first customs barrier. "Can't we just waive this, flash our ID or something?"

"Hush, child. Do you have nay contraband on you?"

"Well, no..."

"There you go, then," he told her, holding her in place in the queue. "You're British, you should be good at queueing."

"I'm British abroad, I'm not allowed to tolerate queues," she glowered at him. "And will you stop being cheerful? It's not fair."

"Someone got out of bed on the wrong side," he commented. "Should I have left you on the plane to go home?"

"Smug arse," she muttered. "Alright, then. I'll... queue."

It didn't take them that long to get through security, all things considered, and they emerged into a warm night, with the light of evening still just touching the horizon. Ianto put his bags down and removed his suit jacket immediately whilst they waited for the car to pick them up. "Middle of winter to the middle of summer," he commented. "What a change."

"Yeah," Ally agreed, tugging at the neck of her jumper. "I'm not looking forwards to going home. Why is it so hot at night?"

"I think it's something to do with it being summer, as mentioned," Ianto suggested. "Do you think they'll let us go and watch cricket?"

"I think that if you and Gordon keep going on about it, I'm going to bring in my football calendars," she grumbled. "Is that the car there?"

Ianto followed her indication and grinned. "I certainly hope so."

The Rolls Royce pulled up in front of them and a smartly-dressed woman in her early thirties got out of the passenger seat, holding out her hand to Ianto first. "Mr Jones, Ms Craig?"

"That's us," Ianto confirmed, shaking her hand. "Mrs Hogan?"

"Good to meet you, thank you for coming out to us. I hope you had a good flight." She shook Ally's hand and gestured to the car. "It's late, we'll take you to your hotel tonight and then come and collect you tomorrow to explain the plan for your stay, if that's alright?"

"Absolutely bonza," Ally agreed. "That's Australian, right?"

Mrs Hogan; Adelaide, if Ianto remembered correctly; smiled at Ally with the strained smile of one used to dealing with jet-lagged English people. "It is, yes. Well, shall we get going?"

She took them to the Crown hotel on the banks of the Yarra and checked them in under a false name, then presented them with the key to their suite and directions to find it. After ensuring that they had everything they needed and that their baggage was being taken up to the room for them, she left them to it until the morning. They hurried up to the suite, intrigued and excited by the prospect and the high class surroundings, and were floored by the opulence. Floor-to ceiling windows in the living room looked out over the river and towards the sports stadia, and the two bedrooms were huge, with king-sized beds and walk-in wardrobes. Ally dropped onto the sofa and stared at the view. "Ianto... What are we doing here?"

"We're honoured guests," he pointed out, resting his hands on her shoulders. "Our entire trip is courtesy of Torchwood Australia. Enjoy."

She dropped her head back against the sofa and groaned as he walked away. "Oh, I intend to. They have a spa, right?"

"Yeah, and Torchwood's picking up the tab. And the mini-bar tab. Don't go over the top, though," he warned. "Remember that their finding comes across my desk at the end of the day."

"So, wait... you signed off on this trip?" she grinned and settled back into the sofa more comfortably. "I like it."

"I haven't signed off on this trip," he corrected her. "But I will have to approve their finances at the end of the year, before I hand over to you. I hate to think how much this has cost them."

"I almost wish I didn't have to sleep," she admitted. "But I'll screw up my sleeping pattern if I don't."

"Yes, you will. You shouldn't have slept on the plane." He wandered back to the sofa and passed her a glass of red wine. "Cheers."

"Cheers," she raised her glass to him and smiled. "So, there's only one thing that could make this better."

"Oh?" he settled into one of the armchairs and stretched his legs out with a sigh. "What would that be?"

"Jack," she smirked at him, but there was a hint of something more affectionate in her eyes. "Then you wouldn't have that hint of 'there's something missing'. You're just wishing he were here to share that big, comfy hotel room bed with you, aren't you?"

"Well," he smiled and nodded. "A bit. I'm used to not having his company, so it's not that, but... Look at this place. It's the sort of place you want to be able to share with people, not just tell them about it."

"Yeah," Ally agreed, sipping at her wine.

Ianto tilted his head to one side and considered her. "It didn't go well with Laura, then?"

She shrugged and turned away from him to look out at the glittering expanse of streetlights that mapped out the city in the darkness. "It was never going to work between us. She's an accountant... She just didn't understand, you know? All the wonder that's out here, just on Earth... It didn't matter to her. No imagination, I guess."

"That's a very stereotypical view of accountants," he commented. "But also sucks."

"Yeah, it does." She sighed and ran her finger around the edge of the glass, making it ring softly. "I need a straw. I don't know what to do with drinks that don't have straws."

Ianto shook his head, drained his drink and stood up. "You are... impossible. I'm sending you to Finishing School as soon as we have time, okay?"

"Do they still do those?" she asked with a frown.

"I hope so. Night gorgeous," he kissed her forehead and patted the top of her head. "I'm off to bed."

He acknowledged her (far too cheerful) goodnight with a wave over his shoulder, left his glass on a side cabinet and started unfastening his tie before he'd crossed the hall to his bedroom. The advantage of not getting any sleep on the flight over, he hoped, was that he'd sleep as soon as he was horizontal, without having to think about who wasn't there. He was in bed in minutes, too tired to even think about going to the bathroom and happy to relegate it to something to regret in the morning, and tucked his phone under his pillow, wrapping his hand around it even as he fell asleep.

It was Ally, rather than the sunshine past the curtains he'd forgotten to close, who woke him in the morning, groggy and reluctant even after ten hours of sleep. He managed to grunt a vaguely coherent sounding greeting and stumbled to the bathroom to shower, shave, brush his teeth and use the toilet, then wrapped a towel around himself to retrieve his suitcase from the hall, where the bellboy had left it because they couldn't agree on who would have which room. Ally was waiting in the living room, watching the morning news in a pretty white sundress with cap sleeved, with high heels dropped on the floor next to her feet. She raised one eyebrow and looked him over, wolf-whistling when he bent over to pick up his case. "Well, that is an unexpected treat," she teased. "To what do I owe the honour?"

"To the girl who snored in my ear from France to Hong Kong," he shot her the finger and kept a tight hold of his towel. "Now watch it, Ms Craig, or I'll set Jack on you."

"Good heavens," she flicked a hand-held fan open for emphasis. "You know he'd just agree with me. I'm just looking, I'm not going to lick you."

He gave her a dark look, which seemed to thoroughly amuse her, and dragged his case into his room to dress quickly. After the heat they'd encountered last night, he went for a short-sleeved shirt, open at the collar, and wished he could do something about the trousers and shoes. Ally clearly had the right idea, and the freedom to go with it. "Girls get life so much easier," he complained from the doorway.

She smiled at him and bent to fasten her shoes. "Yeah, but we get periods. You don't want those."

"No. I'd miss having a dick as well," he thought about this. "And a prostate, which is not something I thought about in the past."

"Goodness, the boy's a switch. Heaven help us," she got to her feet, unusually gracefully, and swept towards the door. "Come, boy, breakfast calls."

They were collected from the foyer after breakfast and led to one of the conference rooms in the building, where a team were waiting to brief them on the project. Ianto greeted them all warmly and proceeded to manipulate the conversation to get as much information as he could out of them and give as little away as possible. He caught Ally grinning at him, but as long as she kept up with making notes, which she was doing, she could grin all she liked. Adelaide seemed to be the administrator; this wasn't surprising, as she was built in the same style as all administrators in their business seemed to be – smart, practical, quietly intelligent, a trifle sarcastic and secretly in charge. Ianto found himself appreciating her more, even though he couldn't bring himself to like her. She was watching proceedings silently, sat back to keep the attention off herself and keeping a close eye on Ally.

Ianto was impressed with the set-up they'd described. The heart of Australia was a perfect testing ground for anything you wanted to hide because of its vast size, inhospitability and remoteness, and the Torchwood office there, buried beneath the surface of the desert, had become the storage and testing location for interstellar vehicles which crashed on Earth. Since he'd come to Cardiff, they'd send three ships there to be repaired and researched. He'd been summoned to provide a cross-reference with UNIT's archives, who used an equally-inhospitable location in the icy deserts of the South Pole for their research, and to witness the work done on six ships which were now believed to be flight-safe for humans. If they were right, it was one of those moments that you had to be there to tell the grandchildren about.

John Spencer passed Ianto a wallet of photographs and gestured for him to open them. "Those are the ships in question out at the base."

He accepted them and didn't even try to hide his excitement as he went through them. The ships were sleek, beautiful, things, mostly two person ships designed for short trips, although there was a family-sized campervan equivalent, and what Jack described as the Aston Martin of the stars – a two-person long-distance cruiser, capable of taking two people across galaxies in utter luxury. He whistled when he found the photos of it, sleek, shimmering metal against the distinctive red desert. "I can feel Jack's jealousy from here," he tapped the photo against his finger admiringly. "You know what this is, I take it?"

"Yes; your notes were extremely useful," John smirked at him and accepted the photos back. "Are you ready to go and see them, then?"

Ianto nodded thoughtfully. "What's the departure schedule?"

"Check out is in half an hour, so you just have time to collect your bags," Adelaide answered, sliding smoothly into the conversation. "And then we will make our way to Flinders Street Station. We have a day's train journey to Adelaide, where the team will meet us for the meetings, a day in Adelaide and then a day and a half on the Ghan to Alice Springs. We'll stop in Alice Springs until dusk and then travel to our base overnight. Our time in Adelaide and on the train should be sufficient time for the necessary meetings."

"We had better collect our bags, then," Ianto suggested, tidying his papers together as he said it. He was impressed with the organisation, and looking forwards to the journeys. It was an expensive way to travel, even if one accepted that the travelling time was going to be used for meetings, and he would never have done it for guests in the UK; Torchwood's power had been waning for years, though, and the offices were mostly little more than one-man outposts now. With his star rising, many of the smaller branches were doing their best to get into his sights in the hope of rising with him.

They excused themselves and were fortunate to get an empty lift. Ally turned wide eyes on him and grinned. "The Ghan. We're going on the Ghan."

"I know, I was there too," he pointed out mildly.

She sighed and tipped her face back into the air conditioning's cool breeze. "I am so not cut out for this. You are definitely sending me to finishing school when we get back. How long does it take?"

"I was looking at a five day course," he confessed. "You'd learn behaviour, posture, entertaining, public speaking, croquet..."

"Isn't that like knitting?"

"No, Ally, it's a game," he sighed and shook his head. "Played with flamingoes and hedgehogs."

"Oh, that croquet," she nodded thoughtfully. "Got you now. The knitting thing is crochet, isn't it? Can't do that either."

"I don't think they teach it," Ianto said, guilelessly apologetic. "I could book you on a course for that, though?"

"Moron," she muttered. "Do you think I should grow my hair?"

He frowned at the back of her head. "Do you want to grow your hair?"

"Not really, but it's more elegant, isn't it?"

"Well... maybe just dye it brunette, or something?" he suggested as they reached their floor. "Pink suits you, but it does give the wrong impression."

They were halfway to Adelaide, admiring the stunning scenery of the Victorian coastline, when Ianto's phone rang. Ally covered her smile with her hand and refused to move to let Ianto get out and take it in private. He glared at her and rested his head against the window to answer. "Hey, Jack. Couldn't sleep?"

Jack's deep, rumbling chuckle relaxed him. "Yeah, I get lonely when you're not here. How's Australia?"

"Hot, beautiful. We're on a train going up the west coast of Victoria right now. I'll send you some photos," he promised. "How was work?"

"Oh, so so. I got back mid-afternoon, and we had a ruckus at the Dark Star; nothing major, but enough that Rax felt he needed to call in help. Got a couple of illegals."

"And they're stewing in the cells?" Ianto checked.

Jack sighed heavily, a crackling, distorted sound down the line. "Yep, and I'm on babysitting duty because I got the last two days off."

"Sorry," Ianto apologised. "I'll not ask you over again."

"You know I didn't mean that," Jack said crossly.

"And you know I didn't mean it," Ianto countered. "I miss you too."

Jack laughed again. "You always know what I mean, don't you? Can you talk?"

Ianto looked up at his travelling companions and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I can't. I'm on the train with company."

"Oh, is this a..."

"I'm glad you called, but..." he trailed off and shook his head to John's 'don't worry about it' gesture. "I'll call you later, okay? Love you."

"Love you too. Take care, watch out for the spiders."

Ianto rolled his eyes as he hung up. "Sorry about that. It's bedtime for Torchwood in the UK."

"I think it's sweet," Ally insisted, twiddling a straw in a can of cola. "I've never heard him have a single conversation with the head of the Cardiff branch that doesn't turn personal."

"Well, that's not something I've experienced with him," Adelaide returned his smile. "Although I suspect that Jack would object if I had. Rumour has it he's a bit possessive at the moment."

"He's a reformed man," Ianto agreed, dead-pan. "Completely house-trained, too."

"A house-trained man, goodness," Adelaide affected surprise. "Well, I suppose it had to happen sooner or later."

Ianto raised a finger. "I must protest, Adelaide. A house-trained man who was not trained by either his mother or his governess. I had to train him in preparation for meeting my mother."

"Or his wife," Ally patted his leg. "You are many things to him, Ianto; wife is not one of them. Although I do occasionally wonder about 'governess'."

"You, madam, are a monster," he muttered. "I do apologise for Analyn, we're sending her to finishing school when we get home. It can be your Christmas present, dear!"

"Oh joy," she muttered. "Ianto, whale!"

"What?" he looked out of the window to where she was pointing and stared. "Oh..." He and Ally watched, entranced, as a lone whale broke the water in the secluded bay, whilst a gaggle of tourists watched from the clifftop.

"See, not all the wildlife's dangerous," John commented. "Don't you wish you lived here?"

Ally nodded, wide-eyed, but Ianto laughed. "No. Australia is nice to visit, but I know where I belong."