Thank you again for the lovely reviews and wonderful support!! Ok, we are almost to the end here... one more chapter should wrap things up... I know this one is a little slow, but it didn't seem to work without it.

And a huge thank you to Kitsa for pointing out something so I could fix it! I serioiusly don't believe I was that big a twit...

Chapter Eleven

Forging Ahead

………………………………………………………………..

"In this world of change, nothing which comes stays, and nothing which goes is lost."

Anne Sophie Swetchine

………………………………………………………..

Gil Grissom rose to his feet as the young, impeccably dressed, Welshman joined him at the table; the pub around them, located just off the University campus, was quiet despite the time, nearly half eleven. "I appreciate you taking the time to come out," he told him. The suit the younger man was wearing was no more or less formal than the one he had worn to dinner the previous night. It made Gil wonder what it was he actually did for a living.

"My pleasure," the Welshman's smile was warm. Pleasant. He extended his hand; his handshake, like last night, was firm without being overpowering. His manner was reserved, quiet. Just the opposite of his partner's. "Thank you for the invitation," he added, sounding as if he might really mean it.

Gil nodded; they both sat. "I… wanted a chance to get to know Sara's friends a little better," he explained, just a little hesitantly. Duplicity wasn't his strong suit. And mostly, it was true, he did want to know her friends. He wanted know who she'd become over the last year, because she wasn't the same woman who had walked out on him… because I pushed her away, he forced himself to admit. Again. He knew he had a lot to make up for.

He also very much wanted to get a better idea of what she was really doing in Cardiff. To say that information on Torchwood was scant would be an understatement. He had tried the internet only to come up with nothing that seemed credible. "Sara seems especially fond of you and your partner," he began with a statement of truth. Then, "or do you prefer husband?" he asked in an earnest tone.

The young man's chuckle surprised him. "After this morning, task-master is more like it," he grumbled, although obviously in good humour.

The older man quirked an eyebrow.

Ianto merely smiled, waving it off. "It was a slow morning at work," he explained. "When it's slow, Jack has entirely too much time to think, which at the moment is something I would prefer it if he abstained from for a while." A long while…

The waitress came for their order before he could expound, which was really for the best. The Welshman ordered as if he knew the menu by heart. His companion ordered the same thing he had every time he came in.

"I… hope you don't mind my saying… it seems a bit…unusual…" Gil began, although he was uncertain how to proceed. "You and your husband…" he explained to the perplexed look on the young Welshman's face.

Ianto smiled his understanding. "You mean it seems unusual for an employer and employee to be married," he said, confirming the other's suspicions that Jack really was the boss and he was merely an underling of some sort… although exactly what sort of underling he was, even they weren't sure of most days. Office manager, secretary, archivist, field agent… it all blurred together at the end of the day. And at the end of the day, I doubt it really matters, he mused.

"I had rather wanted to keep what Jack and I were doing quiet in the beginning," he said, "but well… you've met the man. He couldn't keep 'us' a secret for more than two minutes. He never could have made it two years without letting the cat out of the bag." He sipped his water; he wanted Gil to know Sara that had told them a great deal about her past, about the two years the two of them had carried on in secret. If lines were ever drawn in the sand, there was no doubting that every member of Torchwood Three would be on Sara's side. "Besides, Jack sets the rules," he continued. "Torchwood doesn't a have a Rule Number Twelve."

The waitress arrived with his tea, for which he was infinitely grateful. (He knew better than to order coffee in this particular pub. Not many people drank it, and as a result it sat on the warmer for hours on end… yes, Ianto prided himself in really knowing everything.)

"Rule number twelve?" asked Grissom.

"Abby, our 'forensic goddess', used to work for a man who apparently had fifty rules governing office procedure. Rule Number Twelve was the prohibition on office romances." Which had always struck him as odd, seeing as she and Tim had dated, at least briefly, when they both worked for the United States Navy. It was, in fact, how they'd met.

"Forensic goddess?"

He shrugged. "Her preferred title. I don't argue with a woman who knows how to kill a man without leaving behind any evidence," her favourite threat, although usually it was levelled at Mickey not he or Jack. "Particularly not one who won't hesitate to go into detail on how it's done."

Gil blinked. "It seems like you have an… interesting… working environment."

The Welshman's chuckle was dry, his mind reflecting on pterodactyls and Weevils… werewolves… the occasional vampire visiting from Toronto… aliens… alien technology… "To say the least," was all he said aloud. Their food arrived.

"Can I ask what you do? Sara said it was classified."

Ianto nodded. "We…handle things. That's really the best way I can explain it," he couldn't help the momentary twinge of sympathy for the man sitting opposite him. Gil Grissom had travelled half way around the world to be with someone (which while it made Jack suspicious, Ianto found incredibly romantic), yet there was so little Sara could share with him about her work; even the good parts were classified.

He also remembered the near-catastrophe they'd had on their hands when Rhys found out what Gwen was really doing. Frankly, it was better that Torchwood didn't have a Rule Number Twelve. It was hard to imagine any of them trying to date outside work… sad and single… Tosh's words suddenly rushed into his head.

He recovered quickly, despite the pang of loss felt deep inside, and forced a smile. "We handle the sorts of situations the police aren't equipped to handle," he tried to explain without giving too much away. "Sara's experience as a CSI has been an invaluable asset to us," he added.

"I hated losing her," the other admitted.

Ianto considered, mulling over his burger and chips thoughtfully, wondering if Gil meant that only professionally. The look in the older man's eyes suggested otherwise, but there was a lot he would probably never admit aloud, possibly even to a friend…

Sara's own descriptions of her former boss and lover bore that out.

"There was a time," the Welshman began slowly, "when Jack and I went through a bit of a rough patch. A couple of them, really," he admitted with a shy smile. He wasn't the sort to talk about his private life either. But there were times to make exceptions, and this felt like one of them. "One of the worst, for me, was before we learnt to talk to one another, because I honestly had no idea where I stood with him." It wasn't all Jack's fault; he might not have said how he felt, but Ianto hadn't asked, either. "Jack can be incredibly reserved…"

The look Gil was giving him made him smile. "I know it's difficult to imagine, but Jack… he lost his father at an early age," he settled on a simple truth. "At the time, I didn't even know that much about him though. He keeps his private life very private; honestly, half of his bluster is really a cover, I think, just don't tell him I said so," said in a conspiratorial tone. It made the other man smile.

"At any rate," he went on, "I didn't know what he considered me until the day a friend of his asked about us – apparently he'd given her the very distinct impression that we were a couple." He smiled at the memory of Martha asking him if he and Jack were really… even she hadn't supplied a word, but that look…. He'd played it casual, of course, claiming it was just dabbling, but he'd felt like he was walking on clouds the rest of the day. "It may sound a bit silly, but knowing that he took our relationship seriously enough to discuss it with a friend meant a great deal to me. For the longest time, all he would ever do was give me hints that he might consider us…well… 'us'," he went on, realizing again why it had been so important to Jack to meet his family. For all that Jack claimed to be beyond the 'infantile trappings' of twenty-first century courtships, he could be just as insecure as the next guy. Just as human as his partner.

"It was a difficult time for me, even though we weren't hiding the sexual nature of our relationship," Ianto told the man sitting opposite him.

"No Rule Number Twelve?"

He smiled. "Precisely. Discretion really isn't in Jack's nature," he added. "However, I don't imagine that working in a place where one has to to hide how you felt about a person, day in and day out, for two years would be very easy," he said pointedly. "Especially when your closest friends are your co-workers. In that respect, I believe Torchwood is much like your Crime Lab in Las Vegas. We don't have lives outside of our job, not really anyway," he told him. "Although truthfully, I can tell you from experience that it can be a bit difficult to carry on so-called normal relationships when you can't talk about what you do. Most of my family is convinced I'm 'wasting my time' working for the Tourist Bureau."

Gil blinked, as surprised by the younger man's candour as he was by his accurate assessment of he and Sara's past relationship. "No. No, it wasn't easy," he admitted, deciding that he was more interested in Sara's life than her job, at least for the moment. After all, the latter wouldn't matter if they didn't work themselves out.

The silence that settled over the two men while they ate was neither comfortable nor awkward. At length, Ianto inquired as to how he was getting settled.

"Sara's been showing me around. You have a beautiful city."

When we're not being over run by Weevils or assorted other aliens, he thought. He smiled anyway. "If there's anything you need, I hope you'll free to ask. There's very little about the city I don't know." Local expertise… he smiled.

"Thank you."

Ianto finished the last of his burger. "Do you bowl, by any chance?"

"Bowl?"

The younger man just smiled. "I can't promise Jack will be on his best behaviour, especially if the afternoon pans out to be as dull as this morning, but we're getting together tonight for a few pints at the bowling alley near the Millennium Centre. Why don't you join us?"