Chapter Six
Jack was asleep (or at least close enough to it), his breathing steady and deep. His face was nudged against Ianto's neck and the measured, soft puffs of air against his skin were driving Ianto absolutely mad.
Other than that, though, he was comfortable, and it really wasn't worth moving. Jack had opened the window before returning to bed and now a cold breeze was blowing in, freshening the air and trailing against the exposed parts of their chests and calves. It smelled crisp with rain. They lay tangled together like an Escher print and the sheets were twined around their legs. Ianto stared at the ceiling because if he didn't, he'd end up staring at Jack and that just wouldn't do.
He felt the hand on his hip tighten and Jack nuzzled closer. "Sleep," Jack murmured softly. "Thinking too hard."
Ianto froze and then smiled up into the darkness, letting Jack slip back into unconsciousness like he usually did. Really, he wasn't thinking, except about how he didn't want to think about anything at all. Not about cooking dinners, or weekend holidays, or the way Jack kept looking at him like he was surprised and thrilled, or how their hands would brush up against each other and then Jack would smile…fuck.
Well, he could focus on the case, at least. Gwen hadn't called him back, which meant things were probably fine on that front. And Owen would analyze the results tomorrow, so they'd probably have something more to go on. Maybe they could put this to bed soon, and then Jack would stop being accommodating and sweet and so bloody intent on taking him away from all of this.
He inhaled a ragged breath and finally looked at Jack, who was wide awake and smiling at him like he knew something.
"You're thinking about the case," Jack said quietly. Under the covers, he nudged Ianto's ankle with his toe. It was freezing and Ianto frowned at him. "I'm right, aren't I?"
"Actually, no. I wasn't."
Jack gasped in mock-surprise and then nodded knowingly. He shifted onto his side and stared at Ianto through dark, glassy eyes. "Me then, is it?"
Ianto snorted, but couldn't find the energy to argue.
He tried to ignore the fact that Jack was leaning up against his shoulder now, that his lips were pursed just on the edge of his neck. Those little puffs of breath were longer, more measured, spreading gooseflesh over his skin in wide patches. He sighed and turned onto his side. Jack's body followed him, curve for curve, until his chest was pressed close against Ianto's back, his arm wrapped around his stomach possessively.
"I can't say I blame you," Jack whispered, and Ianto smiled into his pillow, marveling a little at the warmth Jack provided, at the way they fit together like this.
Sometimes, he had the irrational urge to stay up all night just to prolong this moment, but he always ended up falling asleep anyway. In the morning, when the light streamed in through the blinds, and the alarm went off, sometimes he was disappointed that he hadn't drawn it out a bit longer.
Ianto closed his eyes and drew Jack's hand to his lips. He felt Jack's breath catch and then release against his neck in a long contented sigh. After that, Jack's breathing steadied again, smoothing out in the darkness into a measured rhythm.
Jack's hand clenched against the juncture of Ianto's flesh and the mattress, and then flattened, locking him into place. It was an unconscious move, Ianto knew, something Jack's muscles did of their own volition as he eased into sleep. But thinking back, it hadn't always been that way. He couldn't remember when it started, or why.
Around now, he'd drift off, the gentle rhythm of Jack's sleep noises lulling him into a relaxation he didn't allow himself to feel during the day. Here, in this bed, they just were. A car passed outside, the headlights extending in long lines across the wall. As it got closer, he could hear the tires swish against the still-wet pavement and the muffled thump of bass.
The night before, Ianto had dreamt that he had to bring Gwen a flamingo so that she could use the feathers for her sunglasses. She was very grateful, and had adorned an extra pair for him to give to Jack. Why he'd been so excited to bestow this peculiar gift, he wasn't sure. He didn't put much stock in dreams.
Jack nuzzled against him again and huffed a breath of sleepy disdain. Sometimes Ianto liked to imagine that these were silent, semi-conscious conversations, Jack reacting in his sleep to Ianto's meandering thoughts.
As he drifted off, he wondered what Jack might dream of; it seemed impossible to imagine that his dreams were anything less than extraordinary, but then it had also seemed impossible for Jack to cook him dinner and then kiss him, tasting of earth and salt and wine. Maybe the normalcy was the most extraordinary thing about Jack, and maybe cooking dinner really shouldbe the most exciting part of Ianto's week.
Ianto fell asleep smiling.
The next morning, he woke up ten minutes before his alarm. He lay there blinking for a few seconds until he realized that the space in the bed next to him was empty. He could hear the muffled tones of Jack's voice through the closed door of his bedroom. He sounded excited.
Ianto padded out to the living room, and watched as Jack grinned at him. He gestured to the phone with his left hand, as if maybe Ianto hadn't realized it was there.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm still here Tosh." He paused and his grin turned a little sheepish. "Yes, I heard you. We'll be there as soon as we can - I'll brief Ianto on the way."
Ianto glanced at Jack and raised his eyebrows, and then started gathering the remnants of last night's dinner from the coffee table. He picked up a wine glass and breathed a small sigh of relief when the table underneath it came up free of any telltale ring.
"No, no need to call him, I've got it covered," Jack was saying. He chuckled. "I'll leave that to your imagination. Just don't share with Owen, okay? You know how he gets."
"So, good news?" Ianto asked Jack once he'd hung up his mobile.
It was cloudy outside - Ianto couldn't quite tell if it was getting ready to rain or if it had just finished. He deposited the dishes in the sink carefully.
"Sounds like it could be," Jack told him. His eyes were practically gleaming with excitement.
Ianto gave him a moment and then sighed when Jack didn't immediately continue.
"You know you don't actually have to wait until we're in the car to brief me," he said, staring at Jack impatiently. "What did she say?"
Jack grinned. "She's still analyzing the data, but she thinks she's found a pattern. Between our samples and some of the readings we have on file."
Ianto's heart raced a little with anticipation. It could be nothing, but if Tosh had thought enough of the discovery to call Jack about it, well….There was a good chance it wasn't nothing. "What kind of pattern?"
"She's not sure yet. But if she's right about the levels she found with the samples, she thinks she might be able to use it to predict another occurrence."
Jack pressed his hand to Ianto's back and smiled at him. The news was all a bit much, and Ianto was eager to get in and start working. Jack bent down and began to fumble for pans beneath the sink, the clanging of metal-on-metal stabbing into Ianto's sleep-fuzzy brain.
"What're you doing?" he asked rubbing his temples.
"Making breakfast." When Jack took his head out from the cabinet, Ianto was frowning. "You have eggs," Jack said by way of explanation. "Go on, shower, it'll be ready when you're done."
"But we have to –"
Jack scowled. "It can wait." His face softened into a smile again and his arms wound around Ianto's waist. He pressed a kiss behind Ianto's ear. "I know this is important to you. I get it, I do. But this? This is important, too."
Ianto took a deep breath and felt his arms wrap around Jack of their own volition. It was strange to be so close like this in the soft light of morning, in the middle of the kitchen. Strange, but nice. Jack was warm against him, and malleable, his skin pliant from sleep. Ianto found he didn't really want to move.
"Okay," he said quietly, and found Jack's lips against his own. "Okay, yeah."
He wondered if this was as close as they would ever come to admission and definition, and if what he felt at that thought was relief or despair. Jack kissed him again and pulled away, his eyes bright and relaxed.
Ianto shook himself of his thoughts and smiled. "Just don't touch the coffee machine."
Jack's hands raised in surrender, 'as if I would' written across his face in bold, and Ianto laughed. He reached a hand out to Jack's face and stopped midway, uncertain of his own intent. He paused for a moment, frozen with his arm outstretched, and then he pulled it back. Instead, he turned and walked to the shower.
He'd meant to shower quickly, and by normal standards he'd probably still managed it, but by the time he stepped out and wrapped a towel around himself it seemed to Ianto as if he'd been in there all morning. He wasn't exactly sure why, but the more he thought about what Tosh's discovery could mean for the case, and the night travelers, the more he realized he was as apprehensive as he was excited at the prospect of meeting them again.
He sighed as he pulled the thin cotton shirt over his head (he'd change properly after breakfast). Speculation, Ianto told himself. All of this was speculation. They had no idea what Tosh had even found yet.
Ianto forced himself to focus on breakfast, which really wasn't all that difficult considering Jack was cooking it.
He made his way to the coffee machine as Jack was putting the finishing touches on a quite delicious looking omelet and grinning at him.
"What?" Ianto asked, turning his back on Jack to deal with the coffee. "You know it drives me nuts when you look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you know something I don't." He paused for a few seconds as the whir of the grinder threatened to drown out his voice. "I can never tell if you're thinking about snogging me or if you're about to announce that Torchwood Three is moving house to London." Ianto considered this for a moment. "Or worse, Scotland."
"What's wrong with Scotland?"
Ianto stared at Jack. "Have you seen the numbers on their economy lately? And besides, there's no rift in Scotland." He pressed a few buttons on the coffee maker, stared at it until it started gurgling and then turned to Jack, satisfied that their coffee was indeed on its way.
Jack frowned at him for a moment. "Well, to be honest, I'd rather snog you anyway."
Ianto raised an eyebrow. "I'm glad you find it more preferable than relocation to Scotland."
"Well," Jack said as he shrugged, smiling, the spatula tight in his grip, "I prefer it to most things."
Jack rested the spatula on the counter and Ianto winced, a comment about spoon rests and clean surfaces flittering over his tongue. He let it die unspoken; it wasn't worth the temporary argument when it could just be wiped up in half the time. He smiled.
"Almost ready?" he asked. Jack nodded without checking and stretched his back. The coffee was still brewing, its slow cycle timed perfectly, and Ianto left the machine to its task.
He stood next to Jack and peered into the pan. It looked good, the egg cooking firmly, and he wondered at his own disbelief that someone like Jack could cook. Of course he could. Immortality and heroism didn't take away a need for food, and he was fairly sure that Jack had to have done at least one bout of domesticity in the past however many years, too.
And hell, if Jack could be a circus performer, why couldn't he cook eggs?
"It was nice," Ianto said quietly, apropos of nothing, as he watched the egg mixture bubble around the edges, "going to the theatre. For a little while, we were equals, seeing something new for the first time. He'd buy me a sweet, or maybe popcorn, and for a couple of hours we'd get along perfectly."
Jack placed his arm around Ianto's waist and pulled him closer. "Your father?"
"Yeah. He…we just didn't see eye-to-eye on a lot of things, but we could agree on films. He always loved the old black-and-whites, the uplifting war-era things, and the early cartoons. I guess I inherited my taste from him."
Ianto felt Jack's lips against his scalp, felt as they stretched into a smile. "We'll go sometime."
And there it was again, the promise of a future beyond tomorrow, but this time Ianto's stomach didn't clench unpleasantly. "I'd like that," he smiled, and nodded to the cooking food. "Now finish up. We've got to get in soon."
Breakfast ended up being nice, if not a little rushed thanks to Ianto's shower and Jack's complete inability to hurry through a cup of coffee (or two) , but eventually, they were on their way.
In the car, they talked about the weather, and the rain, and what it would mean for their samples, if it turned out that Tosh and Owen needed more samples, and Ianto tried to push away the anxiety that seemed to be building the closer they got to the Hub.
"What is it?" Jack asked after few moments of silence had passed. Ianto glanced over at him in confusion.
"Sorry, what?"
"You," Jack clarified. "Something's up."
"Nothing's up, Jack. I'm just a little anxious, that's all."
Jack just nodded as if he understood perfectly and rested his hand on Ianto's thigh. Ianto glanced in the rearview mirror as he started to pull into the Millennium Centre car park.
"I'm not exactly excited by the prospect of meeting them again, either," Jack said, sounding as apprehensive as Ianto felt. "Who's to say we'd do any better at preventing casualties this time around, right?" Jack let out a nervous laugh.
"Well, we know more now than we ever did before. That's got to count for something, doesn't it?"
"You're right." Jack nodded and patted Ianto's knee reassuringly. "I've got to learn to be more optimistic."
He grinned at Ianto, and it was almost convincing, as the Audi eased into its familiar spot, and Ianto shifted into park.
"We're back!" Jack called out, as soon as the cog door started to open.
Ianto was trailing behind him, after he'd checked out the state of the tourist office briefly, eyeing the brochures, making sure there were no suspicious packages waiting outside the door for him.
He took a deep breath, and jogged to keep pace as Jack practically burst into the main level of the Hub.
"So," Jack prodded, beaming. "What have you got for us?"
"Coffee first," Owen insisted as he stepped in front of them, folding his arms across his chest.
Jack frowned as Ianto took the greatcoat from his shoulders. "You're dead," he stated bluntly. "You don't drink coffee. And aren't you supposed to be making it now?"
Gwen jogged down the stairs to meet them, smiling. She was clutching a thick file of papers, the corners escaping their confines every which way, making it look like the spined back of a stegosaurus. Her eyes widened and she pouted at Ianto, pleadingly.
"Please don't make me drink Owen's coffee. I know Rhys broke that vial, but the punishment hardly fits the crime," she begged. Owen scowled at her.
Despite the anxiety flooding his system, making his heart pound and his muscles twitch, he winked at her in acquiescence. "Fine. Tosh probably deserves a cup, as well."
As he walked over to the coffee machine, he saw Jack frown and then felt his presence at his back, trailing him like a puppy. Ianto ignored him, instead favoring the small cabinet with his attention as he retrieved four mugs. He checked the container of beans; they'd need more soon, and cream, too. He'd have to remember to add it to his list.
Jack pressed against his back. "Owen's not going to get any better if you don't let him try."
"He doesn't want to learn. Why should we force him?"
"Well, there isn't much he can do with –"
Ianto turned and faced him, his back pressed against the counter. He was trapped between it and Jack. "And that's why I made the coffee? Because there wasn't much I could do?"
"No," Jack said quickly, startled. He had this curious, bemused expression on his face that somehow managed to relax Ianto's tense muscles. "No, you make it because you're good at it, because you like it! At least, I thought you did."
Ianto smiled. "And therefore I shall continue to do so." He gently pressed his lips to Jack's. "Now go get everyone together in the conference room. I'll be up in a couple of minutes."
Jack favored him with something halfway between a frown and a smile, as though his mouth were unsure how it felt about the whole thing, and nodded.
After Jack had left, Ianto carefully arranged the mugs on the tray in front of him. Gwen's cup sloshed over the rim and he frowned. He reached for a towel, dabbing between the cups, and then underneath Gwen's mug (and Tosh's, while he was at it) before glancing around to confirm that everyone had relocated to the conference room.
He was stalling and he knew it. He tried to call back some of the calm that he'd shared with Jack over breakfast. No matter what Tosh had found out – even if it turned out that the night travelers would be on their doorstep again tonight – it wouldn't change how good things had been with Jack lately. They would simply handle this like they handled everything else - together. It was a little unnerving, actually, the thought that maybe Jack's past simply didn't hold the power it once did.
Everyone was already sitting around the large table when he arrived – Gwen smiled gratefully and jumped up to grab her coffee before he'd even made it around to her side of the table.
He saved his and Jack's for last. Jack beamed at him as he took the seat to his right.
"Brilliant, as always," Jack murmured, taking a sip.
"I do my best," Ianto said quietly.
After a moment, they all turned their attention to Tosh, who appeared lost in the papers scattered in front of her before she blinked to attention.
"Yes, right. Well….Take a look at this." She tapped a few commands on her PDA and several complicated graphs appeared on the screens at the front of the room.
"What are we looking at?" Jack asked.
"The one on the right – those are nitrogen levels. A cross section of your samples, and the historical data Ianto found in the archives, as well as some numbers I was able to dig up on my own from Welsh Water. As you can see, these are pretty normal. No huge spikes, even on the dates associated with the appearance of the night travelers."
She tapped her PDA and the display changed. This time, even to his untrained eye, Ianto could see that something significant was going on.
"And what's that then?" he asked, staring at several giant spikes in the graph.
Tosh beamed. "Silicon. Those are the silicon levels in the water." A red laser pointer danced over the edge of the graph's sharp ridges. "This here is from the night we found the first victims of the night travelers. You can see the baseline, and then this huge spike here." She paused, her eyes gleaming excitedly. "Jack, I don't think the night travelers are nitrogen-based. They're silicon based."
Ianto froze and stared at the graphs on the wall. The lines began to blur, he was looking so closely. It was a marked change, the peaks so unmistakable and concrete right there among the low skimming green and red and yellow lines.
Owen was talking quickly and Tosh was giving rapid-fire answers, but Ianto wasn't paying attention. His eyes were too busy tracing the rise and fall of the pertinent points. He could hear Gwen writing something down next to him, the scratch of pen on paper loud enough to indicate the furiousness of her scribbling.
Jack's hand settled on his knee and Ianto relaxed a bit, blinking. He looked over and Jack offered a small smile. He whistled and everyone froze to turn to him.
"So. What does this mean?" he asked and Ianto released a grateful breath. "Is there any sort of pattern we can go by?"
Tosh nodded and pressed a few buttons. The graph on the wall zoomed out and showed a whole array of figures, spikes and spires traveling across the space with relative uniformity. "They seem to manifest once every twenty eight years, give or take. I can't be completely sure; the data isn't entirely accurate. But from what I have to go on, it's the best I can do." She looked apologetic.
"Twenty eight years?" Jack repeated and Tosh nodded again. "I'll be sure to put a reminder in my calendar."
Ianto squeezed Jack's hand tight. He hadn't meant to, but twenty eight years? Suddenly, this was less about Jack's past than it was about his future. A future he was sure he wouldn't be around to witness. Jack squeezed back.
"I thought you'd only seen them the once, Jack," Gwen piped up, taping her pen against her chin.
Jack nodded. "Yeah, in 1924. After that would've been…'52? That was the coronation." He paused, his eyes glazing over as if in deep thought. "And then in 1980 I was pulled in by One to help investigate a string of murders that they thought might be alien in origin." He shrugged. "I just missed the other appearances, I guess."
"Wait a minute," Owen said, standing up. "Wasn't this a random occurrence? A piece of film someone got hold of accidentally? You mean to tell me they planned this?"
"No, it's more complicated than that. They didn't plan it." Tosh pointed to the screen in front of them, which morphed back into the second set of graphs. "I don't think they couldplan it if they wanted to. See, that last spike there," she pointed to the most recent spike on the chart, "that also corresponds with some very unique rift fluctuations. Here." She brought up a graph mapping the activity. It was clear that there had been a huge jump on the charts at certain points.
"So you're saying that the level of rift energy combined with, what, nitrogen and silicon levels in the water allowed this to happen?" Jack asked, sitting up straight. He smiled, obviously impressed. "Good work, Tosh."
The rest of the table echoed their agreement, still staring at the screen in front of them, trying to make sense of what they were looking at. Or at least, that was what Ianto was doing. It seemed so strange, to suddenly have the mystery illustrated in front of him with charts and graphs and spreadsheets like this.
"And it's just a theory – we don't have rift data going back that far, obviously, but…" Toshiko tapped the screen of her PDA, and brought up a black and white microscope image, which resembled what could have been some sort of honeycomb. "I think we're looking at this. I've been calling it Silicon-31, but of course, that's not official." She smiled a little sheepishly. "It's an isotope. A new one, so far as I can tell, but based on the water samples and the levels I've been able to measure, I think it's created when the night travelers come through. Compared to the current stable isotopes we already have for silicon, this one is extremely unstable."
"As in occurring every twenty eight years?"
"So far as I can tell," Tosh repeated carefully. "And maybe the oxygen stolen from their victims prolongs the isotope's half-life, allowing them to remain here longer, or they think it does? I haven't found any data to support that, but it could explain their need to steal breath."
"So…" Ianto started. "Twenty eight years from now…"
"There will be a rift spike, silicon levels will rise in the water—" Jack continued.
"And you, Jack, will deal with the night travelers on your own, since we'll all be long gone by then," Owen stated, throwing up his hands. "Great, case closed."