This was supposed to be the last chapter, but it kept growing. So there will be another. At least.

Timing: After Adrift but before Exit Wounds.

Huge thanks to everyone who is reading this.

"Stop primping," Jack called. "Or we're going to be late."

Ianto paused in the middle of tying his tie. "Are you trying to make that my fault?" he demanded in exasperation. "When you hogged the shower all evening?"

Jack stuck his head into the bedroom. "I did invite you to share."

"Oh, right," agreed Ianto. "That wouldn't have made us late at all."

Jack reached over, snatched the tie away and ducked back.

"There, you're ready. No, hang on." He twitched the top two shirt buttons undone. "Perfect. Red really is your best color."

Ianto sighed, very loudly. "I am not going to chase you around after my tie. So you win, this time. Which doesn't constitute a pattern. Hey, stop."

Jack froze with his coat halfway on. "What?"

Ianto strode over and slid the coat the rest of the way up Jack's shoulders. "My job," he said possessively. "And, speaking of perfect."

Jack's breath hissed in as Ianto's lips claimed the back of his neck. He wasn't used to the open affection that had stemmed from the privacy of having their own home. Ianto's reserve ceased abruptly at the doorway. Took Jack by surprise, still. And he was reacting at about the level of a teenager, which was kind of mortifying. Fun though. Definitely fun. Jack's arms closed on empty air. Ianto was in his own coat already, waiting by the door with an exaggerated air of patience.

"You were worried about being late," he said. "Shall we go?"

"You're a goddamn tease, Jones," Jack muttered. "And you'll pay for it. Later."

"Be nice," Ianto chided. "Or you can make your own coffee. Time you learnt how to use it, anyway."

Jack's sole contribution to fittings and furniture had been an expresso machine. And bedsheets. Egyptian linen. Who'd have guessed?

"Very nice," Ianto commented, as they were shown to their seats in the restaurant. Linen tablecloths, crystal glasses, silver flatware.

"It would want to be," Jack answered. "Had to wait eight weeks for a table."

Ianto raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Was that before or after you flirted you way down the waiting list?"

"After," Jack admitted. "Would have been twelve weeks otherwise."

The banter continued through the meal. Jack's mind drifted, comparing this to their earlier dates. So much had changed, especially since he'd moved in. Neither of them thought twice anymore about stealing food off each other's plates, for example. Ianto was still reticent about public displays of affection, but there were compromises. Like the kiss on the forehead. Subtle touches that symbolized more than the flamboyant gestures Jack had used in the past. Like now.

Ianto leaned across the table and took Jack's chin in his hand. "Hello?"

Jack dragged his attention back to the present. Which was quite satisfactory. And would become more so later if the evening went anything like the way he had planned.

"Sorry. Thinking."

"About what?"

"Tell you later," Jack said, winking. "If I told you now it might put you off dinner."

"Considerate of you," Ianto agreed. "The food is rather good. You might want to try eating some." His hand brushed along Jack's jaw before sliding away. "Over half an hour in the bathroom and you still didn't shave tonight," he commented. His eyes twinkled. "You're going to give me whisker rash."

"What, right now?" Jack teased. His gaze flickered around the restaurant. "Actually, good idea. I'm feeling inclined to mark out my territory."

"Huh?" Ianto said inelegantly.

"Brunette, third table from the right, black dress. She's been eyeing you off all evening."

Ianto did his own survey, not easy to do inconspicuously given that the table in question was directly behind him.

"Oh," he said eventually. "I see."

Jack cursed internally. The blood had drained from Ianto's face.

"Blast from the past?" Jack asked with an attempt at lightness.

Ianto shook his head. "My sister's best friend."

"Why is that a problem?" Jack demanded. Not that he couldn't guess. And he'd just been feeling smug about how everything had changed.

"I haven't told Rhiannon about you yet," Ianto admitted. "Stop looking at me like that. We've been busy at work. I haven't had a chance to see her since you moved in. I didn't even get over for my niece's birthday."

"There's an invention called the telephone," Jack said snidely. "And I'm fairly sure you know how to use it."

"I don't want to tell her on the phone," Ianto persisted. "It's too important."

Well, when he put it like that. "Black dress has her phone out," Jack informed him.

"Her name's Susan," Ianto said. His face creased in thought. "Actually, it might not be such a bad thing, after all. Give Rhiannon time to get used to the idea, perhaps."

"She's talking to someone," Jack continued the commentary. "Getting a bit excited."

"Well, you are staring at her. You tend to have that effect," Ianto agreed. "So, um, assuming that's Rhiannon she's calling, which it probably is, she'll need a day or two to sort herself out. I'll invite myself around for dinner one night this week. Rift permitting."

"Sounds perfect," Jack said sarcastically. "Except that I get the feeling I'm not on the guest list."

"It's going to be hard for them, Jack," Ianto said quietly. "And for me. Rhiannon will blast me for keeping secrets and Johnny will insult me. If you're there you'd either storm out or end up with your fist in his face."

"Whereas you'll just put up with it." Jack looked at the determination in his lover's face and sighed. "I'm supposed to go along with this because….?"

Ianto chewed on his lower lip for a moment. "Because I need you to?"

"Tell me the rest of the plan then," Jack surrendered. Ianto gave so much uncomplainingly that it was impossible to refuse those rare occasions when he asked for something in return.

"Not much to tell. Rhiannon will realize how happy she is for me. Then she'll sort Johnny out because even though he's a clod he adores her and he'll do whatever makes her happy. And he actually does like me. I think. Sometimes. So when Rhiannon calls me to apologize for Johnny being a git, I invite them all for dinner the next weekend and you charm them into submission. Easy."

"Workable," Jack agreed. "But my cooperation comes at a cost."

"What cost?" Ianto asked suspiciously.

"There's a major flaw in you plan. And we resolve it my way."

"Is there?" Ianto asked, surprised. "What flaw?"

"We don't know for sure it's your sister on the other end of the phone," Jack explained, eyes glowing with mischief. "And since that seems to be the jumping off point of the grand plan, we're gonna give Susan over there something worth calling about."

Ianto looked back at him apprehensively. "What sort of something?"

"I'm about to improvise." He stretched both arms slowly across the table.

"Careful," Ianto said, "You're going to knock the wine bottle over."

Jack moved the bottle out of the way and grasped Ianto by the lapels. Close enough that Ianto could feel his breath on his face. And with the breath came those pheromones.

"Do you know what you look like at the moment?" Jack asked teasingly. Another ritual.

"What?"

"Rabbit in headlights."

Damn those pheromones, Ianto thought. I should be used to them by now. "The food is really good here, don't you think?" he said somewhat breathlessly

"Yeah, it's good," Jack said, drawing closer a fraction at a time. "So?"

"So don't do anything that's going to get us barred," Ianto pleaded.

Jack kissed him, gently, lingeringly. On the forehead.

"You're such a shit sometimes," Ianto said, sitting back with a thump. Jack rarely made him blush anymore, but at the moment he was fairly sure his face matched his shirt almost perfectly. And there was a restaurant full of people making "Awww" noises. Those that weren't retching.

"Susan just dropped her phone," Jack said with satisfaction. "Time we made a grand exit, I think." He grinned wickedly. "Should we say goodnight to her on our way out?"

"No," Ianto replied. "No. No. No. And in case that wasn't clear enough. No."

It was a rare, perfect night. No clouds. Moonlight reflecting back from the Bay. Ianto had gone strangely quiet.

"You're not angry about that, are you?" Jack asked, jerking his head back towards the restaurant.

"No," Ianto answered. "It was kind of funny. And I'm sure it got the message across."

"It's still early," Jack commented. "Want to go hunt some Weevils?"

"It's supposed to be our night off," Ianto answered, recovering some of his animation. "And you've already died once this week. Bled all over my shirt. I had to throw it out."

"Accounts for the tears," Jack said lightly. But they both knew the truth. The Blowfish they'd been tracking had doubled back on them fired at Ianto. Jack had gotten in the way. On purpose.

"It was almost new," Ianto agreed. "So let's not tempt fate again quite so soon. Not that fate had that much to do with it really. Most people have the sense to dodge bullets, not jump in front of them."

"You didn't dodge fast enough," Jack protested.

"I would have," Ianto answered. "If you hadn't knocked me flying with that heroic save. And Gwen would have had a clear shot if you hadn't dived in the way."

"But I like saving you," Jack said contentedly. "Especially now you're always there when I wake up."

"Idiot," Ianto grumbled. "You don't have to get yourself killed for that."

"I wasn't trying to get killed," Jack argued, "I was trying to stop you from beingkilled."

Ianto smiled at him affectionately, but his eyes held sadness. "I'm only human. And mortal. It's bound to happen sometime."

"Not this week," Jack said stubbornly. He didn't like the way this was going. And he didn't like the way Ianto was looking at him. Compassion. Pity, almost. "Actually, not any week. Not if I can stop it."

"One day there won't be anything you can do," Ianto reminded him. "If Torchwood doesn't do for me old age will."

"Old age then," Jack said firmly, around the sudden lump in his throat. "That gives us another fifty years, minimum." There was an uncomfortable pressure building behind his eyes. "And this discussion is over. Never to be raised again. You're not leaving me."

"Don't," Ianto whispered.

"I didn't," Jack said.

"I might have been talking to myself," Ianto admitted. "I do that sometimes." He looked out at the moonlight sparkling on the Bay. "Do you mind if we walk for a while?" he asked, uncertainly.

"If you want," Jack agreed cautiously. He didn't like this mood. Something was wrong.

They ended up leaning against the rails on the jetty. Ianto looked unseeingly across the marina. "You really want to meet Rhiannon, then?" he asked dully.

"I can wait," Jack offered reluctantly. "If you're really not ready."

"It's not that." Ianto protested.

Jack moved behind him, covered his hands with his own, gently trying to pry them loose from their white knuckled grip on the rails.

"Tell me," Jack ordered softly. "Tell me what's wrong."