Miranda put down her sword and wiped the sweat from her brow. She'd taken a run down the river bank and then gone through her daily sword routines on the small dock attached to the property. A quick glance at her open fob watch told her it was still early but late enough that Jack and Ianto were probably awake and done with their own 'exercise'. She had thrown herself into her routines more vigorously than usual in an attempt to work off some sexual frustration. Miranda hadn't been with anyone since she'd left Cardiff four years ago and while it was far from her longest period of abstinence, having Jack in such close proximity was difficult, even this muted one. Jack Harkness exuded sex from every pore. In fact, usually after time apart the two of them wouldn't have gotten reacquainted over a meal but over several hours in the bedroom. Jack isn't the only distraction, she noted to herself. The young Welshman's sexuality wasn't as blatant but being with Jack had definitely rubbed off on him. She found Ianto Jones just as tantalizing. Miranda had spent most of the morning trying to suppress mental images of the two men. Time and a place… she chastised herself. She'd also spent most of the morning in a circular argument with herself.
Yesterday, she had stood at the backdoor, not wanting to interrupt the intimate moment between the two men and feeling more than a little guilty for eavesdropping. She'd only overheard the last few parts of the conversation and they had shaken her. Once again she'd clearly misjudged the depth of their relationship and she found herself facing a dilemma that she had turned over in her head ever since.
Ianto was pre-born. He had the potential within him to become an immortal of the Game. She could give the lovers a great gift, Ianto's immortality. But Miranda had lived long enough to know that one did not toy with the hand of fate. Ianto worked for Torchwood. It was a violent job with a short life expectancy. Ianto Jones would be inducted into the Game soon enough without her help, she needn't interfere. But after seeing the tender moment play out between the two men, her initial resolve was wavering.
He appeared to be only in his mid to late 20's. He was a young man in his prime, fit and healthy. His chances of surviving within the Game, if he experienced first death now, were greater than if he aged and entered his thirties or forties. But Miranda also knew presenting Ianto with the choice would put the young man in an impossible position. Torchwood would never give Ianto any semblance of a normal life, nor would loving Jack. But that Torchwood life loving Jack was still far closer to normal than that of an immortal of the Game.
Still, the two men were deeply in love. Jack never looked at me that way, she thought with a smile. Miranda had had mortal lovers in her long life and had mourned each of them when death had come for them. Even though after each loss was keenly felt, she wouldn't have have wished immortality upon any of them.
And so the argument turned and revolved in her head.
She dunked her head down into the river, quickly for the cold shock. She collected her things and walked back up to the house, shaking the river water from her hair. The smell of coffee and frying bacon greeted her at the door. She rubbed her hair with a towel and headed for the kitchen.
Surprisingly, Ianto was standing at the stove minding the bacon and Jack was no where to be seen.
"Bore da," he said brightly. He looked rested, relaxed… and well shagged.
"Bore da, Ifan. You look well… rested," she paused, making her innuendo clear. The blush that creeped up from his collar was spectacular. "Where's Jack?"
"Upstairs getting dressed. I hope you don't mind, I took the liberty of starting breakfast and making coffee," he pointed at the coffee pot with the spatula. "It'll be ready soon. How do you take your eggs?"
"Over easy, thanks, and I don't mind at all. There's black pudding and laverbread in the freezer. I'm going to take a quick shower and get dressed myself."
His expression perked up at the mention of the laverbread. He started searching the freezer while she went back down the hallway. She bumped into Jack loudly coming down the stairs. Ever the bull in a china shop. He wasn't wearing a shirt and his braces hung down by his hips. He also had a well shagged look about him.
"Will," he gave a soft cough. "How was your run?"
"Energizing," she said with a smirk. "You had an energetic morning as well, I take it?"
Jack grinned at her, blushing slightly.
Jack Harkness blushing. Now, I've seen everything. "Ianto is in the kitchen fixing breakfast. He's made coffee."
He nodded and started to walk away.
She touched his arm to stop him and said, "Jack, wait."
She pulled him into the dining room out of Ianto's earshot and closed the pocket doors. There was one more thing that was still between them and Miranda had to clear the air now.
"What I said when I left," she said softly. "I'm sorry, Jack. I was angry… I didn't mean it."
"I know, Will," he said, leaning against the door jam. "I'm sorry, too. I just couldn't bear the thought of losing you."
"I know you did what you thought was best," she said. "Thank you. For saving my life."
He moved forward, pulling her into a tight embrace.
"I love you," Jack whispered into her hair.
"I love you, too," she said quietly, "but you can't save me from the Game, Jack."
He clung to her more fiercely. "I know."
"Jack, promise me," she pleaded, pulling back to stare hard at him. "Promise me you won't interfere again."
He closed his eyes and didn't answer her.
She shook him slightly until he opened his eyes to look at her. "Your word, Jack!" she hissed.
He closed his eyes again and sighed. "I give you my word. I won't interfere."
Miranda breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."
She reached up to brush her fingertips down his cheek. "Ianto is in the kitchen. See if he's found the laverbread in the freezer. I'm going to take a quick shower and get dressed." A very cold shower.