Okay, here is the next part. I hope you enjoy this chapter and ermm... I actually finding this to be quite the difficult fic to continue writing.

I guess that this is going to intrigue you all... I know it's intriguing me and I'm the one WRITING IT!

Andromeda-Rayne: I'm glad you're loving this story and I'm sorry you feel bad for Ianto. Christmas tree builders rule in my opinion! :P

Glistening Moon: I promise I will not make Ianto immortal. And there's nothing wrong with being stubborn... most of the time. And I have now updated for you.

HP-anime-girl: I'm glad you think this fic's nice but I'm afraid I can't divulge what Ianto is as of yet, but this part might give you a clue as to his family. I'm afraid I don't know how the Torchwood team is fairing, I'll give them a call though and find out lol.

Anyway, enjoy this.

Allons-y!

-o-0-o-

PART FOUR

I do so wish that this child would allow me to see him... he is ever so unique. I have always assumed that humans of the twenty-first century were nothing more than precursors to their fifty-first century counterparts... But - when I compare this child's mind to that of Captain Jack's - it is obviously apparent that this child is the exception to my expectation. He is a rarity in a way that I have never truly seen before – something to be cherished and adored, not ignored or ridiculed.

Sometimes in the short time that I have known this child, I must admit, I have wondered as to whether or not he is truly from the time that he believes he hails from. When he states that he is a twenty-first century being, he is not lying – that much I know, even though he such a master of spoken words; no-one can lie to me for it is not possible. Though, that being said, the boy's ability to block is meant to be impossible yet that is exactly what he does...

There are several reasons as to why I think he may not be from the century he was existing within when he met Captain Jack; the most prominent, and obvious, would by the fact that he can keep pace – and I'm quite sure that if he chose to, even out do – my dear Doctor.

When my Doctor is ecstatic or impassioned about something he tends to... rant. And quite quickly at that. Most do not understand him when he is like this, most do not have the mental processes required for them to be able to keep up with his thoughts – whether they are verbal or mental – yet this boy does. He listens to my Doctor, he understands him, when he's speaking an average of 150 – or in some case 200 – words per minute as though he is speaking an average of 40. It is truly astounding. The only other being that I have ever come into contact with, whether it be from my own experiences or from my Doctor's memories, was the Master...

But this boy is not him. The Master has a dark mass, a black pit within his very soul but this boy doesn't. This boy is a startlingly blinding white – so bright, so much more so than even my dear Doctor.

I have watched his movements, the silent power he exudes without ever truly realising, the quiet certainty in his abilities. He is not extrovert; rather he is quite the opposite. Attention is not something he relishes, he is not Captain Jack; he does not wish to be the focus of the party, the one who has eyes upon him always. He is not my dear Doctor either; he does not show obvious exhilaration and joyous behaviour when he saves lives, when he rescues a damsel in distress. He instead, gives a respectful nod, a twinkle of his azure blue eyes and a slight smile upon his lips as he is simply not noticed for his contributions...

I feel for the child, I truly do. It can hurt you deep when you are ignored simply because you do not wish for all of the credit but perhaps even a mere pittance of it.

I listen to how he speaks; the words he says, the way in which he says them. I analyse how he uses each word in a sentence to deliver different results; when threatened, they are sharp yet still polite; when humorous, they are amused and playful; when hurt, they are guilt-creating and heart-breaking. He is a master of words, of actions, of thoughts also, perhaps...

I wish he would allow me entry within his guarded mind, so that I could see it in all of its unique glory. I truly wish, but I know he will not unless I manage to convince him that I mean no harm.

I suppose I best get on with it then!

-o-0-o-

-o-o-0-o-o-

-o-0-o-

Ianto was walking along another corridor, getting closer and closer to his room when he found himself occupying his mind with thoughts and ideas that really had no place within his mind. For example, he was mentally reviewing the necessary components required to be able to build a transdimensional vortex manipulator – something that he didn't even know he knew anything about, let alone existed! The sheer impossibility of such a thing was unnerving to him, more so that having walls speaking to you and being accused of not being human.

To know of something when you have not learnt it implies that it is instinctual knowledge, or that you have the intuitive ability to understand, to know something merely on sight – which, though Ianto was brilliant in almost every sense of the word, he had never known himself to be able to do.

He sighed and forcefully dismissed any further thoughts and ideas about things he wasn't supposed to know about as he turned the corner and, smiling happily, spied the door to his room – he couldn't wait to get inside and hide... and cry... no! He would not cry. 'There is no reason to cry Ianto Jones! None at all! You are stronger than that!'

He turned the strange, crystalline knob of the handle of his door and slowly pushed it open – wondering idly what the crystalline knob was actually made of and when his mind supplied him with an answer; 'Argosian diamond obviously – just look at those molecular patterns in the thing!' he shook his head and hurried into his room.

He sighed quietly and stood within the confines of his room, closing his eyes and letting out a long, deep breath in an effort to dispel all the mixed thoughts, confused feelings and odd sensations that he'd been assaulted with within the last few hours. It was so nice to just let go of them that he didn't open his eyes for a good five minutes. So it was obviously a normal, natural reaction for him blink repeatedly and let out a small yelp at the sight of the young, brown-haired woman that was standing directly in front of him with her face close to his own.

She smiled at him, almost as though she knew him. Normally, under such a situation as the one he currently found himself in, Ianto would have instinctively struck out – it didn't matter that she was a woman because, really, she wasn't... and he didn't know how he knew that but he just did – and headed for the hills. But, he was in the TARDIS, with a door that he just knew wouldn't open and something in front of him that was most definitely not human and was emanating a vibe that seemed to stop him from doing anything other than backing away. Into the door directly behind him.

Trapped. He was trapped.

And she was there. In front of him. Staring at him. Smiling at him.

Watching him. Coming closer to him. And he couldn't move.

She was ever so close to him now and he couldn't move. He couldn't speak.

And he couldn't do anything to stop her.

-o-0-o-

-o-o-0-o-o-

-o-0-o-

"Jack!" The Doctor exclaimed as he re-routed some random system to his screen with the turn of a screw and the punch of a button. He looked over at the fifty-first century man with a look of surprise as he stood up to his full height before looking up at the ceiling of the TARDIS. "I do believe that Ianto is who he says he is."

"He's human?" Jack asked quietly, trying not to let his heart fly as much as it did when the Doctor had just spoken. He walked over to the Doctor and looked at the screen, trying to interpret what the super-speed text said.

"Mostly..." The Doctor replied cryptically, still staring at the ceiling of the TARDIS. He refused to look at Jack and he was far too busy thinking to look at him... or so he told himself.

"Mostly? What does that mean Doctor?" Jack asked him, giving him a look that said tell-me-now, but the Doctor didn't see it.

The Doctor sighed and replied to Jack, trying to explain it simply. "Well, he's mostly human Jack. And the other DNA he has in him has been there for about two generations. I never would've guessed that the genetic variety would mean he'd have... she was a mistake but... I..." The Doctor floundered, finding that he truly couldn't explain it to Jack. Not without telling him the full story and he really didn't want to do that!

He sighed and finally looked away from the ceiling and at Jack who was staring at him with a look that was a mix between. I-have-no-idea-what-you're-on-about' and 'explain-it-to-me-NOW!

He closed his eyes and said, almost to himself. "Why can't family ever be simple?"

-o-o-0-o-o-

To Be Continued

-o-o-0-o-o-

Ohh... family... isn't that something new? A brand new development...

So... will you review and tell me what you think? Since...

REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY... WHEN SKIES ARE GREY... SO PLEASE, PLEASE... DON'T TAKE MY HAPPINESS... AAAAWWAAAYYYYYYY!

KaseyKc