Title: The Life and Times of Ianto Jones as Witnessed by a Distinguished Feline (5/12)
Pairing: Jack/Ianto main, but there's a whole lot of everything in the mix.
Rating: PG-13-R
Summary: Moses had a good life. In fact, he was inclined to believe he had an exceptionally good life. And then he lost Estelle. Now he has Ianto, and he thinks maybe it was always meant to be. Witness the life and loves of Ianto Jones through the eyes of one extremely observant feline.
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them...I cry a little on the inside typing those words.
Warnings/Spoilers: Oh...just about everything. Also, there is minor bashing...but it hardly counts, it's from a cat ^_^.
Authors notes: A different look into everyone's favorite Tea-boy, through a distinctly different pair of eyes. Reviews are adored and cherished and I would love to hear what everyone thinks! I have no excuse besides school was killing me, but now I'm almost done forever! So, enjoy this chapter!

Part Five: Examination of Mistakes, Regrets, and Apocalypses…and What Happens when They all Happen at Once

Contrary to popular belief, Moses did not spend all of his free time napping, munching, aiding the ill Humans across the water, and conspiring (which was just a tougher version of helping really) to help Humans realize how perfectly fit they were for each other. He had many other activities to keep him occupied: taunting the humorous canine across the way, keeping an eye out for stray or suspicious looking Humans who wandered around, not to mention socializing and flirting with those he could see and interact with from his perch on the windowsill. His Ianto had come to the rather late realization that not only could he leave the window open and not fear a runaway feline, but also that even if Moses did feel the inclination to take a walk, he would always come back. Honestly, Humans were just silly sometimes; did they wander off from their homes and then never come back? No, because they knew that food and warmth would greet them when they returned (Moses had long ago stopped wondering why Humans insisted that they knew best for the felines, canines, or vermin who kept them when it was clear they did not).

He was making his way back up the railings of his Ianto's building, hopping up to the middle-ish level his home was located at, just having finished his playful teasing a young Persian who thought a little too much of herself, when he felt it. It was small, something almost unnoticeable to untrained senses (which we all know Moses was NOT suffering from), and as he paused on his path, taking in the shudder beneath his paws, he noticed that Humans did not realize a thing. Typical. Moses cocked his head to the side and glanced down for a moment before he hurried back up to his waiting windowsill, all thoughts of leisurely walkings banished from his mind.

You see, Moses had been cataloging strange occurrences, like these shudders, for some time…it just seemed the prudent thing to do considering his Ianto spent a good amount of time working for that 'Torchwood' business. With all the odd going-ons that happened ever since meeting his Ianto, Moses had taken it upon himself to keep track of the unusual happenings that he had previously ignored (he admittedly had not really cared before…but that was before all the strangeness was shoved right under his sensitive nose!). So far, he had catalogued a variety of odd occurrences, from strange, random lights that sometimes flashed at different points within the city to the barbaric, Fish-Humans who sometimes roamed the streets at night. Cardiff had always been a little off, but Moses was coming to the clear realization that strange did not even begin to cover the madness that this city dealt with. Most recently, these disconcerting shudders made him edgy and somewhat snippy.

Moses hopped and balanced his way back to his open windowsill, jumping through and landing on the comfy carpet beneath him. He padded into the kitchen, nibbled a bit at his food, took a long drink of water, and trotted down to where he knew his Ianto was sitting, probably worrying over something 'Torchwood' related and the Stomper (both utterly silly topics to be worried about, Moses thought) , typing furiously through whatever administrative work he had been assigned. Moses rubbed up against his leg, meowed kindly for him and hopped up next to him on the bed, continuing his nudging until he got an annoyed look along with some pets and ear scratches (which were completely worth the annoyed look).

"Done with your walk, are you? And of course you need me to close the window…" Moses cocked his head as his Ianto got up and grumbled his way towards the open window, no doubt closing it with more force than necessary. In addition to the tremors, his Ianto had been increasingly agitated, which made him equally as snippy as Moses could be inclined to be, which further convinced Moses of the necessity of having to keep vigilant in ALL aspects of his Ianto's life. Moses thought that his Ianto was lucky he was still young (Moses could only imagine how he would've handled his many responsibilities if he had been closer to his Estelle's age) and was able to let the unwarranted irritation roll off him; otherwise they may have been several altercations already that would have resulted with Moses being shut in a bathroom during the day or his Ianto mourning the torn up sides of his couches (needless to say there would have been no victor that day).

Moses gave his Ianto a look when he came back, scowl still set in his face and tense stress etched throughout his too skinny frame (this was one thing that Moses could do nothing about, but he could meow loudly when he wanted to eat in hopes that perhaps his Ianto would as well), and was rewarded with a softer expression. His Ianto sat back down heavily and petted Moses of his own volition, quite pleasantly at that, drawing out a long, appreciative purr from Moses' belly. He was so relaxed he felt almost all of his worries about tremors filter out of his body and let his eyes slip closed; not sleeping though, because he knew his Ianto would want to talk, as he always did, and he would need to listen.

"Sorry Moe, I didn't mean to snap at you." Moses accepted his apology and nipped his Ianto's fingers gently to show his forgiveness. The hand not currently engaged in petting him pinched the bridge of his Ianto's nose, warring off a headache (or so Moses surmised…who could tell with Humans sometimes…); Moses narrowed his eyes, taking in the truly haggard picture his Ianto painted. His Ianto had been home all day and most of the previous day…a strange occurrence of itself, but the Stomper had not been present during this rare time away from the 'Torchwood' business. Moses had not asked what had happened, but whatever had happened, it was serious enough for him to be confined to his home.

But, whatever the situation may be, Moses was sure that it wasn't entirely his Ianto's fault (he knew his Ianto better than that…he had a penchant for getting into trouble and he had a bit of a temper…not that Moses had ever been on the wrong side of it, mind you).

Moses waited with finite patience, hoping his Ianto would begin talking within the timeframe his attention span could be depended upon, purring softly as his fingers continued to stroke him softly. Moses wondered idly if his Ianto was one of those 'special' Humans, if he could sense the tremors and foreboding that Moses could; maybe that was what was bothering him so much. Moses knew that the rat Canines down the hall could feel something was wrong, that the Doberman across the street could, and that the young Persian did as well…he had heard of some Humans being more in touch than others. He squinted his eyes in contentment, coming to the decision that his Ianto was not going to divulge reasons for his being home or for his agitation.

However, just as Moses began to drift, there was a pound at the door (who Moses knew was the Stomper because he was loud at everything he did) and his Ianto got up with a resigned sigh. Moses blinked a few times, yawning widely before he gave his coat a quick once over, licking clean his forelegs to look presentable. He didn't really feel it necessary to look presentable for the Stomper, who was always so focused on his Ianto, but he was a feline; he had an image to uphold for his species. He rose to his feet, arched his back in a stretch, and hopped off the bed, following the footsteps his Ianto had taken and the pair of voices he heard in the front room of the flat.

"…didn't exile you, Ianto. Everyone needs days off—"

"Don't patronize, Jack; no one appreciates it."

"Well, when your employees start shooting each other, it's usually a sign that they've been working too long and could use a day off."

"Jack."

"Too soon to joke? Uh, could never figure that little social nuance. Well, if we're done with that, I can think of something a lot more fun for us to—"

"I shot him in the shoulder to try and stop him from opening the rift, the only rule you've stressed as unbreakable, not out of petty annoyance."

"Only rule? I have a whole lot more that aren't—"

"Rules that you've broken at one point or another. Moot point, and stop it. If you only came over to joke about yesterday, or fuck me, I'd rather you come back tomorrow."

Moses was fully awake and at attention, watching his Ianto calmly argue with the Stomper, whose smile slowly began to fade into a different expression, one Moses thought looked awfully like surprise and uncertainty. Moses inwardly beamed for his Ianto, surprised and proud of him for being honest in the face of the Stomper's magnetic charm (sometimes even Moses had trouble remembering why he disliked him so much…). It became very clear that part of what was bothering his Ianto was the Stomper and the shooting (not a word he was familiar with, but it sounded unpleasant) of another Human. He sat down properly and watched; prepared to intervene if necessary (he had yet to uphold his promise of scratching the Stomper and he could think of no nobler cause than defending his Ianto).

"That's not why I'm here, Ianto. Is it that hard to believe that I wanted to check on you?"

His Ianto didn't answer, but Moses could see his expression become cooler, more angry than calm. "I am not a child who needs to be checked up on, grounded for fighting, or have my hand held in comfort, contrary to what you may think. I'm fully capable of dealing with the consequences of my actions and whatever grief from Owen I've incurred on myself."

The Stomper was silent, now thoroughly off balance (which Moses found very amusing), staring at the younger Human, almost visibly contemplating what to say next or what to back track on. "I'd think it obvious that I don't think of you as a child."

Ianto was frowning now; apparently the Stomper contemplated wrong. "Really? Then what would you call this, Jack? Why am I here and not at work? You can't tell me that what Owen did hasn't done any harm."

The Stomper didn't respond (which Moses thought wasn't his wisest decision considering the situation) and adopted a slightly superior look, like that of a momma cat scolding her kitten, like one not expecting to have his decision questioned and stern that it was. His Ianto, obviously, did not approve of this and walked towards the kitchen, imparting one small, mean looking smile on his way. Moses cast a displeased glare at the Stomper and followed after his Ianto, tail raised, disdain plain on his face; sometimes Moses wondered why he even bothered with the Stomper at all, he was obviously defective in some way for him to keep making such gargantuan mistakes.

Moses glanced up at his Ianto fastidiously making coffee (he had since determined that making the disgusting liquid was both therapeutic and calming for his Ianto, no matter the hour) and sat down under the table, deciding it was best to let the two Humans deal with this in their own, albeit flawed, manner, but that he should keep an eye on them, just in case. It was a few minutes before the Stomper made his way into the kitchen, an obviously disgruntled expression on his face, but his Ianto did not pause, or even look back, He was intensely focused on the coffee, a closed off look on his face. Moses curled his tail around his feet and got comfortable, ready to see this brewing argument explode (and slightly excited about it, if truth be told).

"You know, I don't think I've ever had an employee complain about getting time off, but if you want to come back to work that badly, I expect you tomorrow morning."

"That sounds fine, sir."

Moses swished his tail, excitedly.

"Ok, that's it. What? What is it that's got you pissed off? And would you quit it with the damn coffee?"

Moses was rather surprised…it was his understanding that his Ianto's foul coffee was something like catnip to his coworkers. Perhaps his Ianto's forced indifference was more upsetting to the Stomper than he'd rather let on. But the Stomper didn't appear mad, or even peeved, but rather determinedly amused; Moses frowned internally at that. The Stomper had been put out only a moment before but now…now he seemed determined to turn the conversation around. Change it, put aside dealing with anything he didn't want to.

His Ianto slowly set down his many ingredients and tools that went into making his coffee and turned around, looking the Stomper straight in the eyes, his own eyes turbulent and electric, standing out on his otherwise composed visage. Moses' tail was swishing back and forth fast now, picking up all kinds of crumbs and dust left over on the floor.

"I hardly see the point of explaining anything to you, as you've showed you won't take it seriously." Oh! That was quite ruthless and appropriate, Moses thought (well, admired was probably more accurate a term), but it lacked any real heat, adopting an ambivalent tone that Moses knew wasn't true.

"Well, acting like a spoiled brat won't solve that, will it?" Moses glared; the Stomper really needed to reevaluate his perceptions on what was brat-like. And he had the audacity to smirk! Moses growled low, ready to defend his Ianto should the occasion arise.

"Brat? Really, sir, that's a bit pathetic for you." Moses cocked his head to the side in slight uncertainty (not confused though, to be clear); his Ianto was not pleased, yet he seemed much too close to the Stomper. Humans, they were so fickle sometimes.

"That so? Well, I could always try another." Moses did not think the Stomper truly comprehended his Ianto, in that moment, watching them. He heard the words his Ianto spoke, listened to them listened to their tone in relation to what he said, but he misunderstood completely. Moses understood the switch for what it was, understood because he knew his Ianto and knew what he was doing. A test…a test that the Stomper failed miserably. Moses twitched his ears flat against his head and felt a swell of disappointment fix in his chest; he had seen the good these two could accomplish together, he truly had but…perhaps, in this one instance, he had been mistaken in their ability to reach that goodness.

His Ianto seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because in answer to the Stomper's teasing, he sighed and gave a small smile, one that didn't reach anywhere else but his lips and was resigned. "Jack…I stand by what I said earlier, if you're looking for a consolation fuck, I really rather not tonight."

The Stomper froze, that damnable smirk finally fading from his face. "Consolation? Why would you think that you're a –"

He froze, a look of dawning realization coming to his face. Moses noted that his Ianto did nothing but stay silent, gave no show of anger (which might have been appropriate, but the Moses did not fully understand what was going on) nor of encouragement. He just stared in his frustratingly calm manner, still and almost without breath.

"…what did Tosh tell you?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes! Look, whatever you know, it doesn't change—"

"You don't need to justify your actions. Neither of us made the other any promises."

"Then why are you angry?"

"I already told you. If you don't believe that I'm frustrated you made me stay home from work, I can't help you."

Moses felt his ire rise as the missing pieces in the puzzle fell in place. It seemed as if the Stomper had betrayed his Ianto in some fashion (Moses suspected with another human…he always had that scoundrel-like air about him)! Moses stared as the two continued to argue in a strangely one-sided manner, hearing different words filter in and out of his head, but they were unimportant in comparison to his own thoughts. His Ianto was lying, lying about what he was angry about, and lying that he was only angry…and Moses felt horrendously guilty about the whole situation. He had, after all, pushed them together (quite literally) and though it had seemed like the best thing to do, Moses was rethinking his hypothesis.

His Ianto said no promises, but Moses could sense the undercurrent of hurt that thrummed throughout his body, barely detectable to any beyond the feline species. The Stomper had made no promises, and neither had his Ianto, but they had been expected on some guttural level; and his poor, sad Ianto had come to the unpleasant understanding that those inherent promises had held no value. Moses did not know the full reasoning to the Stomper's indiscretion, but he decided that the going-ons that had led to it were irrelevant. They did not change the hurt and mistrust that had resulted (Moses was now sure that his Ianto should be entitled to be hiss-spitting mad and stop coddling the Stomper's feelings; he was going to scratch him on his way out, a nice, deep scratch).

"Jack, just go. I'll see you in the morning."

Moses glanced back up at the finality within his Ianto's tone, noting that the young Human had finally turned back to his coffee, stepping out of the Stomper's circle.

"Ianto—"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, and that's all you want to do. Just go and tomorrow we can pretend any of this ever happened."

The Stomper hesitated, opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something more, but in the end he shoved his hands deep within his coat and took a step back. He had a shuttered expression on his face as he turned around and headed out of the flat. He paused at the door, looking back (Moses noted that his Ianto was still making coffee for two) once before he sighed heavily.

"What happened in 1941, I wasn't trying to hurt you." And he left, a whirl of his coat and the gentle click of the door all that was left of him. Moses crawled out from beneath the table, meowing softly (and lamenting that the Stomper's path of escape had been out of his claws' reach) up at his Ianto, who had finally stopped his coffee pretense. His Ianto glanced down at him and smiled in that sad way of his as he turned and rested his body against the counter, sagging in the shoulders a bit.

"Lesson one, Moe, about Jack Harkness," Ianto began as he picked Moses up and scratched under his chin (Moses purred despite the situation…he couldn't help it!). "He never means to hurt you, and yet he never stops to think if he will."

Moses meowed softly, in what he hoped was a consolatory manner.

"Come on. I'm expected at work in a little over six hours. Might as well pretend we're both going to get some sleep."

Moses squirmed until his Ianto dropped him, proceeding to follow him to the bedroom, hopping up on the bed and curling at the end, fluffy tail draped around his body. His Ianto collapsed and stared at the ceiling for a time, long enough that Moses rested his eyes comfortably, not quite sleeping, but not entirely awake either (it was his default position, and it had never failed him yet; he was still aware but felt nicely rested when he became active once more).

"I'm a fucking idiot." Moses glanced up but stayed silent. "Next time I'll just let Owen do whatever the bloody hell he feels like doing and hope it kills me early."

Moses listened to his Ianto's breathing eventually even out before he rose and crawled up towards his head, curling under his arm and purred long and deep; offering his own lullaby of a sort. He knew well the feelings his Ianto was having now and he knew that nothing but time could do anything to help. Loving another who did not love you was hard business.

Yes, Moses would let him sleep for now before deciding what to do.

**

As luck would have it, the next couple days robbed that chance from him. Moses had a vague memory of a strange, shadow-like blackness passing over the flat one day and then knowing nothing, but everything seemed to have been righted. Other felines and canines could remember it as well, he saw when they looked at each other, remembering the darkness that had been anything but pleasant, but the Humans did not (oblivious, per usual). Moses felt a certain affirmation in his abilities, that his instinct in those tremors turned out to be correct, but he wasn't about to brag about it. He was fairly sure he had lost one of his lives (that made him down to four…he had been a bit rambunctious in his youth) so there really hadn't been any satisfaction in being correct.

And, as luck would have it, it had been the Stomper who had reversed the darkness and saved them all. And then he had died. His Ianto had cried in a broken sort of way that first night back, not even wanting Moses near (which had more than stung Moses, if truth be told) as he emptied whatever complicated feeling he had for the Stomper out in a mixture of grief and regret. Moses had yowled for the Stomper that night, yowled for him not because he liked him all that much, but because his Ianto did and was mourning. His Ianto had mourned enough in his young life already.

But then, as fate would have it, the Stomper was alive again, thoroughly confusing Moses (who did not often admit confusion, but he considered most felines would feel that way about beings resurrecting who did not have the nine lives of felines) but elating him as he saw Ianto stop by that morning, looking for some sort of card he used to purchase food for the 'Torchwood.' He had even smiled, and for that, Moses was happy that the Stomper came back, maybe even came back for someone other than himself.

But then he left, without warning. And Moses decided that should the Stomper come back, should he try to mate with his Ianto again, he would have to go through Moses first.

Because, this time, Moses knew all about the Stomper, and he'd be ready…

TBC