3.

Owen had the body back at the Hub in no time and – with Ianto's help – arranged him on the autopsy table in the med bay. Ianto left Owen to his own devices then and Owen revelled in the fact that he could focus on something other than his semi-death predicament. He ignored his splintered finger as well as he could while putting on the surgical gloves. The finger would never heal again. The deep cut in his hand would never heal again. The gunshot wound in his chest that had killed him wouldn't as well. He had to live with that. But even though he had no heartbeat, didn't feel pain or couldn't eat, he could still do his job and he focussed on doing it as well as possible. He didn't even hear Peralta near the med bay until he said, "This man met a nasty end."

Owen raised his eyes to look at Peralta, standing on the observation level looping around the well of the med bay. Then he continued the autopsy by removing the liver. "He did. Very nasty." That was all he had to say to Peralta.

He didn't seem to get the hint. "What's the cause of death?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"But you have a theory."

"Yes."

"Enlighten me."

Owen rolled his eyes. "I'm very cautious about speculating about such things." A lie. But he really didn't want to talk to Peralta. The man gave him the creeps. When he wasn't in the archives, he lingered around the main Hub as if he was watching them all. Owen had hidden away all their personal medical files, not sure if Peralta would come looking when they weren't here. It just wouldn't do for him to find out about Owen's zombie state or get any more intrigued about Jack's immortality. And he didn't want him to know about any of the things Gwen, Tosh and Ianto had gone through over the years.

"I'd say," Peralta replied, "his skull was crushed."

"Thanks, Sherlock," Owen snapped, "and do you happen to know how?"

"No."

"Then leave me alone. I have work to do."

A voice from the door interrupted them. "Dr. Peralta, I'm serving lunch now in the boardroom." Ianto smiled pleasantly. "Do you want to join us?"

Peralta smiled. "A very good idea. I'm starving, actually." He turned to leave, but when he realized that Owen gave no sign of following, he asked, "Won't you join us, Dr. Harper?"

"I'll eat later," Owen answered. Normally, he always at least sat with the team while they were eating. Now, he was worried it would tip Peralta off.

Ianto smoothly said, "Dr. Harper's busy. I'll keep something back for him to eat later." He led Peralta away, catching the thankful look Owen threw him and returning it with a smile.

xxx

Jack signed another form for the Prime Minister and then put his head in his hands. He'd turned the lights down low in his office, allowing shadows to creep into the corners of the Victorian brickwork. He tried for a moment to create some kind of order on his cluttered desk, but he soon stopped. Somehow, Jack felt tired. Ianto had done his best to avoid him all day and Peralta's presence in the archives had made it impossible for Jack to corner him down there and talk about the evening before. He didn't know if Ianto really understood what moving in with him would mean for Jack. His avoidance tactic made it glaringly obvious that he had no idea or was blinded by hurt. Jack knew that it must have been very hard for Ianto to tell Jack what he wanted out of their still so new relationship. He was normally very shy when it came to emotional things. Jack turning him down and walking out on him was bound to hurt him deeply. It would probably take some time until Jack could make him understand why he'd refused.

The door to his office opened and Ianto entered with a plate of biscuits and a mug. Jack noticed that he left the door wide open, a warning not to start explaining himself. Just this once, Jack wanted to ignore it. When Ianto set the plate and the mug down, Jack took his wrist and pulled him around the desk. He got up and cradled Ianto's hand against his chest, pressing a kiss to Ianto's lips. Ianto turned his head away.

"You don't understand," Jack said.

"Explain it to me, then."

Jack swallowed. "It's complicated."

"Isn't it always?"

"Ianto, you know damn well that I'm not cut out for this 21st century relationship thing."

"This has got nothing to do with the 21st century. Jack, you're making excuses. You always do. Every time something concerning our relationship comes up, you blame it on you being from the future." Ianto shook his head. "This is just about me and you."

"Yes, it is. And we're perfect right now, Ianto. What we have works out. Why do you want to change anything?"

"Why don't you? What's against making our relationship just that bit more real? I'm not asking you to marry me. I just want to spend time away from work with you. Not just every second or third evening. Not just for the occasional date."

"Because I really like you," Jack answered softly. He cupped Ianto's cheek. "Settling into a daily routine with you … if it works out, I would only come to like you more."

"That's good, right?"

"Good things have never lasted for me, Ianto," Jack whispered.

Ianto stared at him for a few moments, then he placed a firm kiss on Jack's lips. "And they never will if you don't start taking risks. I'm here now, Jack. I hate the fact that you're already grieving for me." With that he turned to go … and froze.

Jack became alert immediately and noticed Peralta standing at his office door. He frowned.

Peralta put on a hesitant smile. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Doesn't matter," Jack said. He placed a hand on Ianto's back to nudge him towards the door. Ianto took the hint and left.

Peralta held up a file. "I was actually here to ask you about something."

Jack sat in his chair with a sigh, annoyed that Peralta had interrupted the talk between him and Ianto. "And what is that?"

"It says here in the notes of a certain Dr. Andrew Greenwood that he did some research into male pregnancy in the early 30s."

"He was the team's medic in 1932," Jack said with a nod. "Unfortunately, he died the same year after only five months of being an agent."

"Yes, very sad," Peralta answered rather disinterested, "but his file states that he researched male pregnancy on a subject."

Jack froze.

"You," Peralta finished.

Jack looked up at him. "I wasn't pregnant back then. He just looked at my bloodworks and did some tests with advanced technology that had come through the Rift." And he cursed himself for forgetting about the file, for forgetting to hide it.

Peralta's eyes lit up. "So it's true? You can get pregnant?"

"Theoretically, yes, but it's a very complicated procedure." That wasn't entirely true. It wasn't complicated in his time. It worked like in vitro fertilization. But it was close to impossible in the 21st century. He was the only human on Earth who had the necessary genes and nobody had the technology to impregnate him.

"That's interesting. I think it's very complicated, too, but I've researched male pregnancy for quite a while. It was never made public even among UNIT and Torchwood, but did you know that I had some success with test subjects?"

Jack's eyes narrowed. "How did you manage that?"

"Surgery, hormone therapy and a very complicated procedure in which I used denucleated eggs and sperm to merge the genetic make-up of two men. I don't want to bore you with details, but … I had to abandon the research after some difficulties. I would be delighted in taking it up again with you."

"No," Jack answered. "My immortality and my ability to carry children will not – and I make myself very clear: never – be part of your research. Do we understand each other?"

Peralta stared at him. For a moment, he looked as if he would protest, but then he just nodded. "Of course."

xxx

Tosh smiled at Ianto when she entered the tourist office through the secret door leading from the Hub. He was standing behind the counter, going through some catalogues. There was a frown on his face, marring the usually friendly expression. He seemed to be deep in thought since he hadn't even looked up when Tosh had entered, so she approached carefully and said softly, "Hey!"

He looked up, a bit startled and gifted her with an utterly fake smile before focussing on his task again. "Hey!"

"Are you alright?" she asked and leaned on the counter.

"Fine."

"Are you sure?" Tosh asked. Because she knew for sure that Ianto wasn't alright. The fact that he was here, sorting through catalogues for a tourist office he rarely opened, told her everything she needed to know. She hesitated for a moment, knowing that his and Jack's relationship was usually a difficult subject. "I couldn't help but notice that you and Jack seem kind of tense around each other."

Ianto sighed deeply, still engrossed with his task. "We're working through something."

Tosh bit her lip. "Something serious?"

He shrugged. "I don't know really. Maybe I'm too hard on him." He looked up at her then, questioningly. Tosh nodded attentively and he explained, "I asked him to move in with me."

"And he said no," Tosh answered.

Ianto nodded. "He said no and that I wouldn't understand. That he doesn't want to become closer to me because … he told me before, so I don't understand why I didn't see it coming. It's about him thinking that losing me will be harder when we get closer."

"Oh," Tosh replied. "That's harsh."

"Yes." Ianto shook his head with a deep sigh. "Doesn't matter."

She took his hand. "But it does." She didn't like that Ianto was holding so much of himself back in his relationship with Jack. She knew that he was smitten with him and she also could see that Jack adored Ianto, but emotionally, they were a mess of contradictive feelings. Especially Jack, who seemed haunted by his immortality on his best days. Sometimes, when he looked at them, Tosh wondered if he already saw them as the dead loved ones they would end up as. She felt for him, she really did. His life couldn't have been easy. But that didn't mean that he had to avoid deep feelings at all costs. "What are you planning to do now?"

Ianto ducked his head. "I don't know. He didn't say no because he doesn't feel that way about me, right? The problem's not really a lack of feelings. Just fear."

"But you want to make more out of the relationship," Tosh assumed.

The answer exploded out of Ianto as if he'd suppressed it for too long. "Is that so hard to understand? I feel like I'm always giving in to him and some part of me just wants him to see my side and to understand me and to … I don't know. Show me what this means to him. Make it official, somehow." He swallowed. "Our life is uncertain enough, our job is hard enough, I really don't need him already thinking about what will happen when I'm dead."

xxx

Gwen pushed the cake she'd bought during lunch time over the boardroom table towards Tosh when she sat down with her laptop. Tosh's eyes widened when she took in the white and pink dough, the creamy filling and the white icing. "Oh," she said.

Gwen nodded. "I know. Saw it in a bakery. Couldn't resist."

Tosh looked towards the door and bit her lip. "I shouldn't."

"You totally should. We get enough exercise by running around after Weevils and aliens." She bit into her piece of cake and closed her eyes. "Just forget the guys. They're eating junk food all day." And she certainly didn't know where Jack burned off all those calories. He always looked fantastic. It was unfair.

Tosh snatched a piece and bit into it. "Heaven."

"Right?"

The door opened and Jack entered. One glance at the table and he grinned wildly. "Cake!" With that he shovelled three pieces on a napkin and settled down at the head of the table.

"Greedy," Gwen tutted.

"What?" Jack asked, his mouth full. "I'm eating for two." He nodded towards the door.

Owen was standing there, scowling at him for the jab. "Very funny."

Gwen said, "Actually, you seem to be eating for three. Something you want to tell us, Jack?" She winked at him. It was common knowledge among the team that Jack could, theoretically, get pregnant. Owen seemed to enjoy the joke and showed a smile while he settled in his chair.

Jack just shrugged with a grin that showed off far too much of the cake in his mouth.

Gwen pulled a disgusted face, muttering, "Learn some manners."

Ianto entered with a tray and served coffee, while Owen prepared himself for the presentation of his findings. "That's the last thing we need," Owen said, adding to Gwen's joke. "Ianto knocking up Jack."

Gwen noticed that Ianto and Jack avoided each others eyes instead of coming up with a witty reply and felt that something must have happened between the two of them. Ianto sat down, ignoring the cake.

Owen activated the flatscreen on the wall behind Jack's seat at the head of the table. Jack turned around to give him his full attention and it got quiet, everyone settling into work mode. The picture showed the dead man – Liam Humphries. "I finished my autopsy," Owen said.

Gwen and Jack had had a closer look at Humphries's flat and about an hour ago, Gwen had given the team a summary of what they'd found there, what his neighbours had told them and what she'd found on Liam Humphries in several data bases: a retired bookseller, he'd been a loner, especially after his wife's death, apparently no friends or family other than his female admirer. He'd been in a mental institution for some time in his late 30s, but hadn't experienced any problems since then.

Jack asked, "What did you find?"

"The cause of death was massive trauma to his skull and I'm not talking about somebody knocking him out."

"What are you talking about?"

Owen pulled something from his lab coat and raised the hand. "Let me demonstrate." He was holding an egg. He closed his fist around it until its hull caved in and it shattered. "That's what happened to his head." Ianto looked at the raw egg dripping onto the floor with dismay while Owen continued, "Liam was gripped like this," he put both his hands on the sides of Jack's head, "and then squeezed until … well … scrambled eggs." Gwen didn't feel that hungry anymore. She pushed her plate aside. Owen looked gravely at all of them. "I literally found imprints of the murderer's fingers in Liam's skull."

"We're not talking human then," Jack deduced.

"No. There's no way this murder was committed by a human."

Somebody said, "Everyone's hard at work. How interesting."

They all turned to the door where Peralta was standing, smiling pleasantly.

Jack cleared his throat. "Actually, we are. Very busy, that is. What can I help you with?"

"Well," Peralta said, "just a small thing, really. I'd like all of you to be my subjects." Before anyone could say anything, he raised his hands. "Please let me explain. I'd like to examine the consequences of being near the Rift constantly. An experiment that will likely be useful someday."

Owen answered, "There are no consequences."

"Really? Did you ever work on a project like this?"

"No."

"How do you know then that it doesn't affect the human body? The Rift sends out chronon particles into the air and certain forms of radiation. Harmless, I know, but maybe there are some changes in the human body we miss at first glance. Since all of you have been affected by the Rift – some longer than others – I'd like you to be my subjects."

Everyone looked at Jack. "What would that entail?" he asked.

"I'll just need a bit of blood, saliva and maybe some skin cells from each of you."

"That's all?" Jack asked, one eyebrow raised.

Peralta nodded. "I promise."

"Fine then."

"Good. I'll let you finish your briefing then and collect the samples later." With that, he left.

"Great!" Owen groaned. "You seem to have forgotten that my blood's dry, I don't have any saliva left and my skin cells are dead."

"I haven't," Jack answered. "You'll throw a fit, insist on getting your samples on your own. He'll have to let you do that. We give him the stuff we still have in storage."

Owen sighed with a nod. "Fine."

"He won't find a thing either way. I had someone in the 90s do some tests and sent a few samples to a UNIT laboratory in 2001. Nothing unusual. But it'll keep him occupied and happy." He sighed deeply. "Alright. Gwen, after he has our samples, you come with me. We have no relatives, no working colleagues, no friends – aside from the neighbour –, so we'll get back to the crime scene to take another look around. Tosh, you're still checking the CCTV in the area?"

She nodded.

"Keep doing that then. Ianto, work your magic in the archives. See if Torchwood has encountered a being with abilities like that before. Owen, do whatever tests are necessary. Look at his clothes, maybe the attacker left something behind." He clapped his hands and everybody got up. Owen and Tosh left immediately, Ianto hung back to collect the empty mugs and then followed them. Jack looked after him.

Gwen cleared her throat softly. "You know, I can see that there's a problem between the two of you."

Jack's eyes met hers, sharp and defensive. "And it's none of your business."

"You've helped me out with my relationship more than once, Jack. I just want to return the favour."

"It's none of your business," he repeated and left.

Gwen looked after him and sighed. "Stubborn idiot."