"I'm sorry, Rhiannon," Jack explained, glancing over at Ianto who was shaking his head vehemently, "but he can't come to the phone right now. Yes, I understand how important it is to you that we know you only have his best interests at heart. Uh huh. Yes, we're aware. No, he still can't make it to the phone. Yes. No. Okay. You have a nice afternoon as well."

Jack handed Ianto back his mobile phone. It was the second call they'd received that day and easily the tenth since they'd been to visit Ianto's family. Jack took a seat next to the Welshman on the couch and put a hand on his knee. "You know…"

"No, Jack," Ianto interrupted, throwing a glare back at Jack as he took the phone. "Just no. Not after the way she treated you, and not after the way she treated me."

"She loves you."

"That may very well be, but it doesn't give her an excuse to treat me like an invalid. Or a three year old. I'm a grown man, Jack."

"I'm well aware of that," Jack said with a leer, causing Ianto's lips to quirk just slightly.

"I make my own decisions, and there is no way I am moving in with them so that she can fuss over me constantly."

Jack squeezed his knee and then removed his hand, getting back to his feet. "How about we get out of the flat for a bit? Maybe do a little shopping?"

Ianto's eyebrow rose. "As I recall that didn't have the desired outcome last time we tried it."

"Well, sure, but that's because we were trying to jog your memory, Ianto. Today is about getting your mind off what happened last weekend."

"I could have been working and done the same thing."

"Yes, true," Jack agreed, holding out a hand and pulling Ianto up and into his arms. He pressed a soft kiss to the man's lips. "But playing hooky is so much more fun."

Ianto rolled his eyes and extricated himself from Jack's grasp. "Alright. I suppose it might be nice to pick up another suit. Torchwood certainly pays well. I have quite a nice sum tucked away. You wouldn't know anything about that ridiculous amount, would you?"

"It's all for a job well done, Ianto," Jack told him, smiling.

"And are the others doing their jobs quite as well?"

"Tsk tsk, Ianto Jones. Are you asking me to divulge the details of your coworkers' paychecks?"

There was barely a pause. "Yes."

"Well too bad." Ianto smiled and turned toward the hallway and Jack swatted his arse. "That would be completely inappropriate!"

"It's okay, Jack," came the voice heading down the hall. "I do the budget anyway."

Jack grinned, knowing Ianto would never actually look up the others' financials. He might do the budget paperwork but that particular bit of financing belonged to Jack's eyes only. Well, his and the Crown's. He submitted it himself, every month. It was, however, more and more comforting to see so much of Ianto's personality coming back.

He'd been in touch with the doctor several times over the last few weeks, giving the man progress reports on Ianto's mental and behavioral changes. There was nothing severe, and more than anything the doctor was glad just to be kept informed. He'd made an appointment to see Ianto in person in a few days' time, but the doctor had assured Jack it was just so he could see for himself that apart from the amnesia Ianto was suffering no ill effects from his accident. The doctor was still placing the odds in Ianto's favor that he would recover his memories, especially with the personality changes and his preferences continuing to emerge.

"I'm ready, Jack," Ianto told him, re-entering the room wearing black jeans and a red jumper, his black coat completing the look beautifully. Over his arm was Jack's own overcoat. "It's a bit chilly out, despite the sun actually shining today. Do you want to put a jumper on as well?"

Jack thought about it for a moment. "I think the coat will be fine," he decided, slipping his arms into the garment and feeling Ianto's hands straighten it on his shoulders. "So where to first? St. David's?"

"I was actually thinking I might stop by a tailor," Ianto replied.

It was Jack's turn to raise an eyebrow. "A tailor, really?"

"Yup. Is that strange? I'm not sure why I didn't do that when we shopped last time. A handmade suit is so much nicer than one you can just stop in and buy." He held the door open for Jack and then locked it behind them. "I did a little research and there's a place just on the other side of the city center."

Jack was smiling again. "No, it's not strange. It's good. A suit made specifically for you."

They got to Ianto's car and Jack immediately went to the driver's side, holding a hand out for the keys. Ianto, however, frowned for a moment and then smirked. "Actually, I think I'd like to drive this time."

Jack's eyes widened. "Wow. Okay. You sure you're up for it? Might need me to navigate, though."

"Possibly," Ianto agreed, switching places with him and opening the driver's door.

Jack buckled himself in on the passenger side and watched Ianto settle in behind the wheel. The Welshman's hands slowly closed over the steering wheel and flexed a couple of times, and he saw Ianto take a couple of deep breaths.

"You okay?"

"Yep."

"Sure?"

"I'm alright, Jack," Ianto insisted, giving him a small smile. "Just need to do this."

Jack nodded, understanding the desire to be able to do things for oneself. He was concerned that Ianto was pushing himself too hard, but he didn't want to seem like he was trying to control him. He had to let Ianto make his own decisions and take his own risks. That was something Rhiannon was still failing to understand.

Ianto backed the vehicle out of the parking space and a few moments later they were on their way to the shop that Ianto had mentioned. Jack was glad to see that driving seemed to be a skill the Welshman had not lost with his memory. He was as careful and steady as he always had been, prior to the accident.

When they pulled up to the front of the tailor's Jack saw Ianto's eyes light up. "This looks like the right place," Jack remarked, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car. "Very…quaint."

"Most tailors keep small shops," Ianto told him, closing his own door and locking the car before heading toward the entrance. "No need for more space than a workroom, really."

"You must have done a lot of research," Jack noted, winking. He knew it was yet more of the Welshman's previous knowledge making its way to the forefront.

"Might have done."

The bell rang over the threshold as they entered the shop and Jack stood beside Ianto who was looking around. Jack was just about to comment on the smile that had crossed Ianto's face when an older gentleman stepped through from the back room.

"Why Mr. Jones," he said, moving further into the room and shaking Ianto's hand, "it's been entirely too long. How's my best customer?"

Jack smirked. "Best customer, hey Ianto?"

The Welshman's face colored as he shook the tailor's hand. "I apologize, but I've actually lost my memory. Bit of an accident."

The man frowned. "Well that's a terrible shame, lad. You're physically alright, though, yeah? You look no worse for wear."

"Yes sir," Ianto nodded, his smile returning. "I wanted to see about getting a new suit, and found your name in my research."

"Well, you've come back to the right place, son," the man replied, returning Ianto's smile. "I meant it. You are…were…one of my best customers!" He turned toward Jack. "No fewer than five or six suits a year, this one. Don't know how his closet manages to hold them all, but he helps me pay my bills quite nicely, he does."

Jack smirked and snorted, covering his mouth with his hand. He knew exactly how Ianto's closet managed it. The amount of suits and other clothes Ianto and the team went through in just a month was ridiculous. No other job could boast that kind of destruction, though he was pretty sure they wouldn't want to.

"I was thinking a nice dark pinstripe," Ianto told the man. "Do you have any fabrics I can take a look at?"

The tailor grinned. "But of course I do, Mr. Jones. Follow me."

Ianto looked back at Jack and smiled as he disappeared into the backroom with the other man, and Jack swallowed the lump in his throat. He hadn't seen Ianto this excited in quite a while. Okay, that wasn't exactly true, he thought, but he meant outside of the bedroom.

He took in the shop around him. Rustic, older, and likely it belonged to the same man for many, many years. Stepping over to the counter Jack found there were a few business cards in a small wooden holder. He took one, slipping it into his wallet, and picked up another so he could give it a read. "Cynddylan-Williams Family Tailoring – Professional Clothiers," he murmured to himself. "That is quite a mouthful."

He placed the card back in its holder and made his way to the only chair in the room. It was straight backed and rigid, but it beat standing. He found himself once more considering the man in the other room - Ianto, not Mr. Cynddylan-Williams. He was sure the latter was a fine gentleman, but that wasn't where his mind was headed. He wondered if Ianto had remembered this place without realizing it, or if it was, as he made it seem, a lucky coincidence. He knew they'd been through Ianto's wallet together in case something triggered his recovery, but he didn't remember seeing one of the tailor's cards. He supposed it didn't really matter, as Ianto was happy to be there, but if more and more pieces fell together in such a way then perhaps he'd be getting his Ianto back sooner than he imagined.

It didn't take the two Welshmen more than five or so minutes to get done with their business in the backroom. "Pick something out?" he asked Ianto as they appeared in the doorway.

"A couple, actually," Ianto replied with a blush.

"Mr. Jones has exquisite taste," the tailor added, patting the younger man on the back and smiling at Jack. "I don't think we've actually been introduced."

"Sorry," Ianto, said, frowning. "This is my partner, Captain Jack Harkness. Jack, this is Merfyn Cynddylan-Williams, Master Tailor."

"You say that so much better than I ever could, Ianto," Jack replied, holding out his hand. "I apologize for my pronunciation, but it's good to meet you Mr. Cynddylan-Williams."

The tailor shook Jack's hand. "Please, call my Merfyn. Anything more is just a mouthful!"

Jack chuckled at the tailor's unconscious use of his own words and Ianto's smile returned when the other Welshman joined in. "How long have you been in business, Merfyn?"

"Ah, now that's the all-important question, isn't it?" He walked across the small room and stepped behind the counter. He pulled out an old looking leather bound album. "These photos go back through my family. We've owned this business since the late nineteenth century."

"It's in fine condition, considering," Ianto said, carefully looking through the photographs.

"Oh dear, no," Merfyn said, chuckling again. "No, no. This isn't the original location. It used to be by the docks. It's been here since I was a wee boy, though."

"These suits are amazing," Jack commented, pointing to a couple photos from much later in the album. "You and your family have done magnificent work."

"And I'm trying to carry on the tradition," he replied, closing the album and tucking it away again under the counter. "Mr. Jones, I'll have one of your suits ready for a fitting in a few weeks."

Ianto raised his eyebrows. "So soon?"

"Not much business apart from yours, these days," he said sadly, and then smiled again when Ianto frowned. "But that's alright, lad. Don't you worry about it."

Ianto attempted to pay up front for the suits but Merfyn only turned his money away, stating he knew he was good for it and he would rather Ianto be satisfied with the product before any money changed hands. All in all Jack was incredibly impressed with the establishment. He might have to surprise Ianto and get himself a suit sometime as well.

"He didn't need your measurements?" Jack asked the Welshmen when they got into the car.

"Said he had them memorized," Ianto replied, shrugging. "I suppose I've not changed much in the several months he says it's been since I last purchased one of his suits."

"Nope, still hot."

"Jack."

"What? I'm just saying."

Ianto shook his head at him and started the car, heading them back toward the bay and his flat. "We could get a takeaway," he said, not taking his eyes off the road.

"Sounds good. Indian?"

"I was thinking pizza."

"Pizza it is, then. Drive on, Mr. Jones."

It wouldn't be until later that evening that Jack realized exactly what Ianto had called him in the tailor shop, and how much it meant to him. And it would be less than a week before his past caught back up with him and his fragile relationship took a major blow.

Tbc...