Chapter Six

"Well, I know it's changed, but it's not so bad. Not when you can drink good coffee again."

Jack froze, staring wide-eyed at Nicole. She smiled, her eyes bright, and patted him on the arm before stepping back. "Happy New Year, Captain. I do hope you'll accept."

She left the table, but Jack didn't turn around; he couldn't. It wasn't possible, the voice he was hearing. It was a voice he hadn't heard for over nine decades, a voice that couldn't be speaking to him now because that man, that voice, had died long ago. Jack had seen many things traveling the universe, but this…this was impossible.

And then the voice stepped in front of him, and Jack saw familiar eyes and a familiar smile and he squeezed his eyes shut, certain he was dreaming. Or that Nicole had slipped something into his drink. When he opened them again, the smile across from him was uncertain, the eyes worried. He was dressed in casual trousers and a jumper under a grey pea coat, but even without the pinstripe suit, Jack knew this was Ianto Jones.

"Hi, Jack." The Welshman was quiet, unsure. "Er, happy new year?"

"Ianto?" Jack asked, his voice almost refusing to work. "Is that really you?"

"Yes, sir," he said with a smile, then rolled his eyes with an obvious sense of self-deprecation. Jack felt his heart skip a beat at that eye roll, so fondly missed. "Although since neither of us work for Torchwood, I guess the 'sir' is unnecessary now."

"But how? You were…and it's been….how?" Jack knew how ridiculous he sounded, but he couldn't help it. It was like he was trapped in an old black and white film, only he wasn't sure what type: a ghost story? Or a romance?

"It's not much of a story, to be honest," Ianto said. Yes, there were those beloved Welsh vowels. "Maybe we could sit and talk?" He paused. "And eat. Nicolas promised me dinner."

"Nicolas?" Jack asked, even more surprised. "He brought you here?"

Ianto nodded. "Both to this year, and to this restaurant. He said he had a surprise. I guess you're it?"

"He told me the same thing," Jack whispered. "And then I met Nicole, and she offered me a job, and I thought—"

"She did?" Ianto asked in surprise. "Well, we have even more to talk about then." He started to sit, but Jack stopped him, reaching out for him and catching him by the wrist. Yes, he was real, but how?

"Not here. I couldn't eat anyway, not now, and I don't know if the general public should hear some of this. You died."

Ianto cringed slightly, but nodded. "Good point. I was at a party and left early when Nicolas found me. Maybe we could pick up something to eat, go back to mine to talk?"

Jack nodded wordlessly, and Ianto put down some bills to cover the drinks. He shrugged when Jack gave him a curious look. "I imagine Nicole already paid, but if not, I'll submit a claim."

They left the restaurant, an awkward silence between them until they stepped onto the sidewalk. Ianto buttoned his coat and pulled on a pair of gloves before glancing at Jack. "I like the new coat," he offered. Jack looked down at himself.

"And I suddenly miss the old one." He reached out, running a hand down Ianto's arm, then his other, before pulling him into an embrace. He felt exactly like Jack remembered, even smelled like he remembered. It had to be him. "I missed you."

Ianto seemed surprised, but returned the embrace before stepping back and putting distance between them. He seemed both calm and unsettled as he motioned them forward and they began walking to his flat. "Unless you time traveled, it's been a long time for you."

"Ninety years," Jack said. "Almost a century. How long has it been for you?"

Ianto laughed nervously. "Not nearly as long. About a year. Nicolas brought me here last February. He said Anwen Cooper-Williams had died recently and it was a safe year to jump to. She was the last living person to have known me."

"Gwen was still pregnant with her when you…well…"

"When I died?" Ianto filled in, easy enough though still bitter sounding. "Yes, but apparently, it was enough. He said it would be best to wait, so he did. Mica and David were gone as well."

"But how did he bring you here? You died, I was there. I died right next to you." Jack reached out for Ianto's hand, unable to resist. "But I came back. I woke up alone, and it was—Ianto, I led you to your death. It was my fault, and I—"

"Jack, stop," Ianto said with a frown. "It wasn't your fault. It was both our faults. We didn't think. We'd been blown up and chased and shot at and forced into hiding when we should have been on the frontlines helping. We didn't have our heads on straight and we screwed up. It wasn't your fault that we went in like that, it was our own hot-headedness in an impossible situation." He glanced sideways. "And I know what happened after, how you stopped them. That wasn't your fault, either. You had no choice."

"I did," Jack said bitterly, dropping Ianto's hand. "But I choose to kill my grandson."

"To save millions of other children around the world!" Ianto exclaimed. "You made the biggest sacrifice of anyone that day, you saved the entire world."

"It wasn't my sacrifice to make," Jack said. "But I'd lost you, and in a way, I had nothing else to lose…except I did, I lost my daughter. And for a while, I lost Gwen and Rhys and Torchwood."

They were quiet after that, walking through the night toward Ianto's flat. "What happened after that day?" he asked.

"I should be asking you that—you're the one who's appeared decades in the future!"

"You first," Ianto bumped his shoulder. "Age before wisdom and all that."

Jack groaned. "I'm never going to live down the last ninety years, am I?"

"You're almost ten times older than me now, if I'm doing the math right," Ianto teased. "Makes me feel young."

Jack couldn't help but smile, because while the reminder of his age was a hard one, it was worth it to be walking and talking with Ianto. "I left," he said. "I came back a few times, then left again, for good. Haven't been back since, until today."

"Why did you come back today?" Ianto asked.

"I don't know, but I'm glad I did," Jack replied. "Your turn now. How is it you're here? The day I come back?"

Ianto smiled somewhat mysteriously and pointed across the street to a kebab shop. "I'm right around the corner, and they're pretty good. We can pick something up and finish in a few?"

"You're not getting out of telling your story," Jack warned him.

"I know, but to be honest, I don't know most of it. Come on, we'll cross here."

They made small talk about the area while they waited for their dinner, then grabbed the two bags and headed back into the night. Ianto's flat was around the corner in a modern building, grey and colorless in the dark, and must have housed dozens of flats. They took a lift up to the top floor, where Ianto had a corner unit at the end of the corridor.

He touched his hand to the door to enter, and a light came on in the entryway. Ianto's flat was open and airy, with higher ceilings due to being on the top floor. The entry flowed into the open living space, set up with plain furniture and a dining area that connected to an ultra-modern kitchen. It was spotless and decorated sparsely, and Jack almost wondered if Ianto owned any of it, or if he had rented it that way.

He noticed Jack studying it as he set down the food on a counter. "It's not so different than my old place, except for being bigger, higher, and much more posh. And nothing's my own, not really. I'm getting used to it. There's a bedroom with an ensuite on either side, so more than enough space. Can I, er, take your coat?"

He put their coats in a nearby closet while Jack wandered about. The view of the city from the large windows was spectacular, and Jack couldn't help but smile. It had looked so different earlier, but from higher up, it now appeared almost unchanged, only brighter. Especially with Ianto back.

"Would you like something to drink?" Ianto asked. "There's some odd juices popular these days, but the beer is growing on me. Always water if you're not interested."

"Whatever you're having," Jack answered. "Thanks."

Ianto came over and handed him a glass. Sipping it, Jack found it was a strong but earthy ale, quite different than anything he'd had in Cardiff the last time he'd been to a pub. "Not bad," he offered.

"Not good, either," Ianto grumbled. "I miss a good pint of Brains, but apparently, they closed about ten years ago. Two hundred years brewing in Cardiff, and they can't wait another ten for me."

Jack laughed. "Too bad you don't have a wrist strap. You could go get one."

Ianto took a sip, walked over to the table, and grinned as he sat down. "I did. My jumper tweaked his manipulator and we went back to 2088 to the last pub serving it."

Jack joined him as Ianto handed him a plate and they began to dish out the take away. It was strange, considering the last time they had done this was over ninety years ago for Jack, before the children had stopped and the world had gone to hell.

"Your jumper?" he asked as they started to eat. "Are you doing something else on Christmas Eve now?"

"I'm an assistant at the moment," Ianto replied. "Nicole thought, and rightly so, that it would be better for me to observe this year. Things are different in this time—the technology, homes, even the kids and the gifts they receive. All of it. The world moved on," he added softly. He stopped, gazing out the window with a thoughtful look on his face.

"I know the feeling," Jack murmured, and Ianto turned back to him, shaking off the melancholy.

"I imagine you do. Nicolas said you'd left Earth. I asked." Ianto sighed. "Of course I asked, when he brought me here. I knew you'd still be alive, but I hadn't dared hope you'd still be in Cardiff. And if you were, there was every chance you wouldn't remember me—you'd move on, maybe have a family of your own…but he said you'd been gone for several years."

"I left Wales not long after you died," Jack admitted, still struggling to say those words. "Then I left Earth, wandered a bit. I came back when Gwen restarted Torchwood. That was interesting."

"That's Torchwood," Ianto agreed in his driest voice. "The institute that will never die. I thought about ringing them, but didn't want to move back to London. It's a wreck."

"Torchwood is still around? Wow." Jack tried to process it, that the once grand organization, brought down so many times, had somehow survived two centuries. "So what do you do, if you're not with Torchwood? When you're not working for Santa Claus?"

Ianto held up a hand. "No, we were talking about you. When did you last leave?"

"Fifty years ago," Jack said, almost amused when Ianto set down his kebab and leaned back in surprise.

"Oh," was all he said, clearly stunned by the passage of time.

"Gwen and Rhys died, and our team was gone or off on their own...I had nothing to stay for. It was time."

There was a long silence as Ianto took a drink before asking the inevitable question. "So why did you come back, then? After so long?"

"I told you, I don't really know. It's New Year's Eve, so I thought maybe I'd take a look, watch another century turn over before leaving the galaxy. I was planning on taking the long road to Andromeda."

This time Ianto almost choked on his food. "The long road? How long is it to the Andromeda galaxy?"

"Couple of decades," Jack replied. "Figured I'd do some sightseeing along the way."

"But Nicole offered you a job? Did you accept?"

"She did, but I didn't have a chance to answer her. So you know my story now. What about yours? How are you here, in this time—alive?"

Ianto finished his beer and stood up. "Another drink?"

"I'm good," Jack said. "But go ahead, if you need it."

"I need a real beer," Ianto muttered. He ducked into the kitchen and returned with another drink and some crisps. "All right. It's not much of a story, to be honest. Nicolas won't tell me everything. All I know is he somehow rescued me from Thames House. He brought me here because he didn't want to change or affect the timeline. I was in hospital for a month. They were familiar with the virus and able to cure me, but it was a long recovery, and it weakened my immune system enough that I'm still on medication."

"I don't understand. How could he rescue you? I saw your body, when I revived. Gwen and I, we were both there and it was…it was a nightmare." Jack pushed the terrible images from his mind, suddenly so fresh and real even after so many years. "Dying next to you and then waking up knowing you wouldn't. That you were gone forever."

"Not quite forever," Ianto murmured with a crooked smile.

"There was a funeral," Jack said. "They brought you back to Cardiff. I would have known if it wasn't you, I would have heard if it—if you—had gone missing!"

"Did you see it? My body?"

"No," Jack said slowly as realization dawned. "They cremated all the victims of Thames House, to prevent the spread of the pathogen. I was so angry, and your sister was furious, but there was never any reason to suspect they were lying about anything."

"Huh." Ianto took another sip of his drink and popped some crisps in his mouth. "I wonder whose ashes they gave you then."

Jack stared at him. "How can you sit there so calmly? There's a grave in Cardiff with your name on it, and someone else is buried there!"

"I know, I've see it," Ianto replied, his voice clipped and flat. "If I seem cavalier, it's because I spent months regaining my health and mourning the life I could never go back to. Either the government lied to you, or Nicolas did something when he went back to Thames House. Both are equally possible. Either way, it has no bearing on this time. There's nothing I can do about the past."

Jack sat back. "You've changed."

"I died," snapped Ianto. "It changes a person, Jack. At least those of us not used to it." He dropped his head, took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was remorseful. "I'm sorry, I don't mean it that way. It's not your fault, it's not even Nicolas's fault, since he gave me a second chance…but it was hard. I was sick and alone and confused and so, so angry at the time."

Jack sighed. "At me?" he asked softly. Ianto looked away, his face twisting with emotion.

"Yes," he said quietly, and with regret. "I couldn't help it, but I died, and you came back. You got to stay with your family, your friends, with Gwen and Rhys. I woke up doorsteps from the next century, and everyone I knew was long gone. And then you weren't here. That was the hardest. You were my first thought when Nicolas told me what year it was, but you were gone. For months, I wasn't sure what the point was. Why he saved me. Why I'm still alive."

Jack stood up and began to pace around the small flat, trying to pull his thoughts together. Ianto began to clean up the table, putting away the food and dishes. It seemed they both needed a moment. Jack couldn't blame Ianto for his outburst; of course he would have been angry. It had to have been so confusing, to find himself alive and alone in a future where everyone he'd ever known was dead and gone. The question was whether he was still upset about it. Jack had lost Ianto over ninety years ago and though he missed him and regretted what had happened that day, he had made peace with it. For Ianto, it had happened less than a year ago.

Jack stood at the window, wondering what to do, what to say next. Hard enough to be immortal and fall in love with a mortal he was destined to lose. To find that mortal once more in the future, alive and well, was not something he'd ever hoped for. There was no script for them. After several minutes, Ianto came to stand beside him and handed Jack a cup of coffee.

"For old time's sake," he said. "Took me a while to get used to the beans these days, but it's not bad."

Jack took a sip; it was better than anything he'd had for decades. Or maybe it was simply because Ianto had made it. He let it rest on his palate and savored the dark flavor before he spoke again, mustering the courage to finish their conversation, no matter where it took them. They had left so much unsaid in the past that the one thing Jack knew was that they couldn't leave things unsaid now.

"Are you still angry?" he asked. "With me?"

"No," Ianto answered without hesitation. "I'm not. And I'm not angry about being here, not anymore. I'm finally starting to fit in, I think. Have a life."

"You were at a party earlier?" Jack asked.

"Some people from work," Ianto told him with a smile. "Which, by the way, is for the National Museum Wales. I've established myself as an expert on the early 21st century."

Jack laughed. "But what about everything in between?"

"I'm still catching up," Ianto replied dryly. "But I'm good at deflecting."

"And do you still wonder why you're here?" Jack asked, not sure of the answer.

"Every day." Ianto's voice was quiet, his eyes distant as he gazed out of the window. He turned to Jack with a thoughtful look on his face. "But maybe this is why."

"What do you mean?" Jack assumed Nicolas was fond of Ianto and needed him for his Christmas work. He didn't dare hope there was anything else to it.

"Maybe I'm here because you're here," Ianto replied. Jack eyed him sideways, and Ianto shrugged, as if embarrassed for suggesting it. "It can't be a coincidence. Not when we run into one another ninety years later at an expensive restaurant on New Year's Eve."

"No, probably not," Jack agreed. "It certainly seems Nicolas wanted us to meet tonight. The question is why."

"He'll never tell us," Ianto said. "We may never see him again."

"Then maybe we should be grateful, that he brought us back together." Ianto glanced at him in surprise, and Jack tried to back pedal. "By together, I mean…well, we're both alive, back in Cardiff, together in this time…I mean, not together like a couple, since I don't know where you're at with all that, but we're both…" He shook his head with a silent laugh. "Never mind."

"I know what you meant. But…well, it's only been about ten months since I last saw you, Jack. And I've only recently felt like I fit in here, like I could stay and be happy. Started going to my local a few months ago, have had a grand total of one date that was perfectly nice but went absolutely nowhere." He stopped, covering any embarrassment with a quick sip of coffee. "So that's where I'm at, if you're wondering. It's been much longer for you."

Jack thought about what to say, how much to share. He didn't want to lie to Ianto about anything, but he also didn't want to hurt him. Yet he had thought about him, missed him over the years, and the thought of having a second chance with this man was something he wanted more than anything at that moment. "It was hard, losing you," he started, sipping his own coffee as he once more felt emotions he hadn't felt for years. "I thought about you a lot, yet there were times when I wanted to forget everything that had ever happened here, it was so painful. But then I'd remember the good things. I never forget the people I've loved. And seeing as I might have a second chance with one of them…well, the Andromeda galaxy can wait."

Ianto didn't look at him, but his lips quirked up in a small smile. "Second chance, huh?" He set down his mug on the coffee table, then took Jack's and set it down as well. "So maybe we could, when this is all done, have dinner? A movie?"

Jack grinned. "Did I actually sound like that?"

"You remember!" Ianto laughed. "I'm impressed."

"I was nervous."

"So am I," Ianto admitted. "I'm taking a big risk here, not knowing if you're really interested after ninety years, or feel some sort of obligation because you know I'm alive and out of my time. You could be traveling the galaxy, living dangerously, you know."

"And how do I know whether you're really interested after dying by my side, because of me?" Jack asked. "You woke up to a brand-new future where you could live a normal life without Torchwood. You could be starting a family, living happily ever after, you know."

Ianto shook his head as he grinned at the same time. "Sounds boring. I liked what I had."

Jack stared into in his eyes. "I wasn't always easy." Ianto's eyebrow shot up. "In the relationship sense," Jack added.

"Oh, we had a relationship?" Ianto asked lightly, but it still stung, and Ianto could see it. "Sorry, but you're right. It wasn't always easy for us. Probably won't ever be easy. But…at least Torchwood won't be a problem."

"There's that," Jack murmured. Then again, Torchwood had brought them together, in its warped and heartbreaking way.

"Dinner and movie, Jack," Ianto said. "See what you think about sticking around the 22nd century. One day at a time."

Jack felt his throat tighten and reached for Ianto's hand. "I don't want to disappoint you."

"I don't want to disappoint you," Ianto replied. "I don't know the person you are after ninety years. But I'd like to try, and to get to know you. I can only imagine the stories you must have to tell!"

"Maybe a few," Jack laughed. "And I'd like to try too, to share them and hear some of yours."

"I didn't leave the planet," Ianto pointed out. "Just died and woke up in the future."

"That's my favorite story right there."

Ianto rolled his eyes, then glanced down at their hands before pulling Jack closer, so that they were almost chest to chest. "I hope you haven't developed some sort of sentimental bent over the years. That's not what I'm looking for."

"I know, and but I am older than you so I might get sentimental once in a while." Jack laughed, moving his arms around Ianto's waist. Ianto did the same, stepping closer so that they were touching. It felt amazing to be back in this man's arms.

"So is that a yes?" Ianto asked, eyebrow raised. When Jack nodded, he seemed to sag with relief. "Good, then I can finally do this."

And he pressed his lips to Jack's, gently at first, but it quickly grew more heated as they both took in the feel of the other after so many long months and years apart. For a moment, it felt like Jack had never left, that Ianto had never died, that ninety years had never passed and everything between them was the same as the last time he'd kissed Ianto like this, before walking into Thames House. Jack felt more at home than he had in years, and knew he would stay with Ianto for as long as he could.

"Welcome back," Ianto breathed as they pulled apart. They rested their foreheads together, their hands still moving slowly over one another. "And happy new year."

"Happy new year," Jack whispered. And it would be, as he began the 22nd century in Cardiff once more, with the man he loved—and a new job bringing holiday joy to others, together.

Author's Note:

The end! Sorry about the long wait, but working out the back and forth of this conversation was tough, and I do hope it didn't veer too sentimental. Jack does indeed begin to work for Nicole and spread Christmas joy to the children of the world. And he may just inherit the top position one day as well! He also enjoys many happy years with Ianto in the 22nd century. Thank you for reading, and may your new year be a wonderful year as well!