STILL THE SAME OLD STORY, A FIGHT FOR LOVE OR GLORY

Romance, bit of angst, bit of fluff

Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Gwen Cooper

Words: 3152

Some days at Torchwood are bad. Others are worse. But Jack tries to make up for it, and surprise Ianto with something special.

Ianto loved watching good movies. As often as possible, when the Rift allowed the team a quiet night off, he spent the evening at his flat, cuddled under a blanket together with Jack, and let himself be absorbed by a magnificent, distinct world on screen. And more than anything else, he loved himself some classics: the black and white, the old mechanisms of special effects, the plots that'd been scandalous originals to their time, all that just appealed to him. They also brought back memories of his childhood, some of the few good ones - he remembered seeing those flicks for the first time together with his father, whenever the old man went to the movies with him.

In some way, movies made it easy for Ianto to forget everything around him, and to let go of the horrors he saw at Torchwood way too often.

...

Few days on the job were really good days - without any catastrophes or alien invasions or weevil attacks. Most were sort of shitty, others were bad. This one had been worse.

They had been chasing this alien intruder who turned out to be not as primitive as it'd seemed at first glance. It was clever - wanted to get information about Torchwood, and eventually, it caught Jack and Ianto.

Jack died that day. Several times. But that, well - that happened every now and then. The Captain didn't even really wake up between the kills. He had felt the pain of the first bullet as it had entered his chest and thrown him backwards. The rest was somewhat of a blur, and the next thing Jack clearly remembered was when he woke up to find Gwen leaning over their dead alien captor.

No, him being killed, even multiple times, wasn't the worst. But the alien had forced Ianto to watch. It'd chained the young man to the wall, and tortured him by killing Jack over and over again, trying to get the information it wanted. After Gwen had come in and finished the bastard, she hurried to get Ianto out of the iron shackles. His wrists were bloody from his attempts to free himself, otherwise he seemed okay - physically. As soon as Gwen had unlocked the cuffs, he rushed over to Jack who still lay somewhat confused on the ground, bathed in his own blood and not really sure what was happening around him. Ianto took the Captain in his arms and held him as he usually did when Jack had died and was just coming back. His eyes were wet from tears but his face showed only traces of the torture he just had gone through. Jack struggled to sit up, and now pulled Ianto even closer. None of them said a word. Gwen mumbled something about checking out the rest of the building, feeling that the two men needed a moment for themselves. After she had gone, Ianto pulled away for a second, a single tear running down his cheek, and then leaned forward to kiss Jack with all the passion of his heart.

...

Jack loved watching Ianto. He shared the young man's passion for old movies; often they brought back some nostalgic memories to him as well, from the time when he first had seen the film - maybe in a cinema in the forties or fifties, with a young girl or a pretty boy by his side... but nothing compared to the joy he got from watching Ianto when he was caught up in one of his favourite movies. Especially since their day job brought them so much action and excitement, Jack was just as glad as his lover when they had an evening off to themselves. Cuddled up on the sofa beneath a blanket, some snacks on the coffee table in front of them, maybe a glass of wine, an old black and white flick on the telly - those were their moments of happiness.

...

They had barely entered the Hub when Ianto was already gone; Jack saw him disappear in the Archive. The welsh man still hadn't said a word since Gwen had got them out, and the Captain decided that it was probably for the best to leave him alone for a while. However, after he'd changed into fresh dress - throwing the torn, bloody remnants of his old clothes right into the trash bin - and had talked things through with Gwen, Jack entered the dark, narrow corridors of Torchwood Three's archive. "Ianto?", he asked, keeping his voice down in the heavy silence of Ianto's domain.

"Back here, Sir", the young man's voice answered from the far end of one of the corridors. He sounded calm and composed, but then, Jack knew how good Ianto was at disguising himself. The Captain put his hands in his pockets and slowly strode down the narrow path. Ianto stood in the dim light of a small lamp in front of some alien artifact, noting something in a file in his hands. He turned around as Jack walked towards him, and slowly put the paperwork down.

They looked at each other for a minute, then Ianto blinked and took a deep breath. His lip trembled as he reached out and carefully stroked Jack's chest. The older man took Ianto's hand into his and kissed it. "I'm here", he whispered. "It's okay."

Ianto nodded, and finally, his firm demeanour broke. Just like he had done back at the alien's place, he wrapped his arms around Jack and held him tight, and the Captain returned the embrace, tenderly caressing Ianto's back.

"I'm sorry", the welsh man whispered in a hoarse voice, and Jack violently shook his head.

"Don't!"

Ianto sighed and pulled back to look at his lover. He pressed his forehead against Jack's and closed his eyes. "Today... that alien, what it did to you... it just... got to me."

"It's over now. I'm okay. We're safe."

Ianto laughed bitterly. "Safe..." He opened his eyes and fixed his lover with a deep glance. "I thought you-"

"I know." Jack took Ianto's face into his hands and caressed the man's cheeks. "I know." He leaned forward and kissed him, and Ianto kissed him back hard and loving and demanding before pulling back.

"I... I'll be fine", he mumbled, glancing around, picking up the pen and file from the shelf. "You know me best. Just, well, I need some time alone... that's me."

Jack cracked a smile and nodded. "I know." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Ianto's cheek. "I'll leave you to it, then. Whenever you need me..."

"Yeah."

The Captain slowly walked away when Ianto raised his voice once more. "Oh, Jack?" He turned around and faced his lover.

"Ianto?"

"Tonight - rift permitting - we stay in? My place, some movies? Something nice, romantic even, to lose ourselves in?"

Jack nodded. "You bet."

...

One of their all-time favourites was Casablanca. There was a special magic about this movie that had fascinated generations of audiences before them. It was in Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergmann in their roles as Rick and Ilsa; it was in Captain Renault's cynical snark, in Sam's play of As Time Goes By. Ianto loved his classics but Casablanca had a special place in his heart.

...

Jack told Gwen that he'd be going home - to Ianto's place - a bit early, and sneaked out without the welsh man noticing. Tonight, Ianto deserved - needed - something special, and Jack had an idea. He had planned on doing this for a while but he knew that this night was the perfect occasion. It'd started with that old forties suit of his that he'd dug up a few weeks ago - he hadn't shown it to Ianto yet, didn't want to spoil the perfect surprise, but he knew that the style was remarkably close to Humphrey Bogart's suit in Casablanca.

When Jack left the Hub this evening, he made sure to take that suit with him. And some other stuff.

...

Ianto came home about an hour later. He felt awful. The day had wrecked him as it was but after Gwen had told him that Jack had left early, worry had crept into his mind and despite Gwen's assuring words that their Captain had seemed quite alright when he went off, Ianto couldn't help it. He'd seen Jack die today, had seen him getting shot, poisoned, slaughtered, and God knew what that had done to him, even though he'd pretended to be just fine. Maybe Jack needed Ianto right now, and what had he done? He'd hidden himself in the Archives and sent Jack away.

Accordingly anxious, Ianto was now climbing the stairs to his flat. He fumbled to get the key into the hole, tossed the door open, already calling Jack's name, and - stopped. The sound of a piano playing came to his ears, hoarse and rasping like from an old record. Ianto's eyes widened in surprise as he recognized the tune, and he raised an eyebrow as he found his flat immersed in a soft, yellow light. "Jack?", he called again, now more curious than anxious. He stripped off his overcoat and hung it on the hook, then walked around the corner into the living room.

A semi-transparent cloth was hung over the standard lamp and created the warm, yellow light that the room was immersed in. The sofa was covered with a big, fluffy looking blanket; on the coffee table stood a bowl of popcorn and next to it lay a copy of Casablanca. The piano music came, indeed, from a record player that was set up on the floor near the wall - just now, Dooley Wilson started to sing, "You must remember this, a kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh..."

And there, in the doorway to the kitchen, stood Jack, and he was the most remarkable of it all. He was dressed in a white suit that looked like it was just as old as the record of As Time Goes By and was not unlike the one that Humphrey Bogart had worn in Casablanca. He wore a black bow tie with it, too; his hair was combed back, and he leaned in the doorframe with a grin that was both charming and excited.

Ianto needed a minute to take it all in. He still was agitated because of the day and its worries, and now because of the unexpected scene he'd come home to. The welsh man looked around in his flat, opened the mouth to say something and closed it again as he, the master of sass, didn't find any suitable words.

Jack chuckled quietly, hands in his pockets, and watched Ianto. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he reached behind and turned back to tape a sheet of paper to the kitchen door - in ornate letters, Rick's Café Americain was written on it. Then, with an overdrawn impression of Humphrey Bogart's accent, Jack greeted Ianto: "Welcome to Rick's, Sir."

Ianto started laughing. He tossed the keys, which he'd still held in his hand, to the floor, and laughed from the bottom of his heart. Jack wiggled his eyebrows and put out his hand. Ianto smiled, and went over to take it.

Jack lead him in the kitchen where Ianto found the next surprise. The dinner table was set for two; it had a fresh, white table cloth, neatly folded napkins, and in the middle of it stood a discreet yet pretty bouquet of flowers in a vase. There was also a bottle of fine-looking red wine on the table, and from the stove, a lovely smell reached Ianto's nostrils. The man gazed at the room in amazement, and Jack gently gathered him in his arms, and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. Then he lead Ianto to one of the chairs and pulled it back for his lover. Ianto still hadn't found any words to say, so he just sat down and stared at Jack in wonder. The Captain took place on the other side, an excited sparkle in his eyes.

Finally, Ianto managed to speak. "So... so if you're Rick, does that make me Ilsa?"

Now it was Jack's turn to laugh. "Well, if you wanna put it like this..."

"Because I feel like I should be wearing a white dress or something."

Jack grinned and shook his head. He reached over the table to take Ianto's hand. "No, you just be yourself. This is about you."

Ianto knit his eyebrows. "Me?"

"I wanted to... give you a nice evening, and I've had this idea for a while, and you know... you deserve it. This whole day, it's been-"

"Jack?", Ianto interrupted his lover, and the Captain stopped in his words. "Thank you." The welsh man pressed Jack's hand. He felt his view blur and struggled to repress a tear of heartfelt emotion.

Jack simply nodded, and they locked eyes for a moment, silent confessions of love for each other in a wordless dialogue.

The Captain finally cleared his throat and stood up. "Let me serve you dinner, Mr. Jones."

Tonight, they ate without any rush or hurry (expectant of the rift alarm going off or something) but enjoyed their meal. They ate slowly, talking about this and that, laughing, cherishing the other's mere presence. The stress of the day and its painful events were soon pushed far away into the back of Ianto's mind during their loving banter. Jack continued to make impressions of Humphrey Bogart, and Ianto had his fun quoting the cynic comments of Captain Renault.

After they'd finished and sat for a while, Jack put the record on anew, and once again As Time Goes By started playing. He went over to his lover, and gently pulled him to his feet. "Dance with me", he whispered, and with a smile, Ianto put one arm on Jack's hip, and cheek-to-cheek, they swayed to the music.

"And when two lovers woo, they still they 'I love you', On that you can rely... No matter what the future brings, As Time goes by..."

Jack gently lifted Ianto's chin up and kissed him. They were merged into a loving embrace, and stayed like this even after the song was over.

After a while, Jack took the other man's hands and leaned his forehead against Ianto's. "May I invite you to the living room for a movie night?"

Ianto nodded contently. Then he grinned and stepped back to eye Jack up. "Though not even Humphrey Bogart can keep up with this. I hope you know that you'll have to wear this suit more often from now on."

Jack chuckled. "Glad you like it."

Ianto tilted his head in appreciation. "Oh yeah..."

Jack wiggled his eyebrows and reached out to the table for his glass of wine. He put it to his lips - then changed his mind and raised it towards Ianto. "Here's looking at you, kid."

The welsh man laughed and started blushing while the Captain took a sip of his wine. "Wow. Wow, that was cheesy. But I love you for it."

Chuckling, Jack put the glass away and linked his fingers with Ianto's. "Come on!"

Ianto let Jack guide him to the living room. The Captain made sure that Ianto sat comfortably on the sofa and basically wrapped him in the cozy blanket before he rushed over to the TV and put Casablanca on; then he joined his lover and they cuddled close together.

The opening titles played, the narrator opened with the prologue, and Jack slipped into a mood of nostalgic happiness. He shot a satisfied glance towards Ianto - and froze. Ianto was staring at the TV but it was a dull, unseeing stare, as though he wasn't really watching. Jack wasn't sure what to say - or whether to say anything at all - so he just pulled Ianto even closer and gently pressed his arm. Ianto blinked - as if he'd just snapped out of a trance - and briefly shook his head before he looked at the TV again, frowning and trying to focus on the movie.

Jack couldn't help it. "Everything okay?", he murmured and stroked Ianto's arm.

Ianto peeked at him for a short moment, and smiled. "Yeah, yeah..."

For a minute or so, they both kept silent, following the events on the screen but neither of them really focused. Then, Ianto reached for the remote control, paused the movie and turned to face the Captain.

"Jack, today, with that alien - how much did you... I mean when you... did you feel..." He didn't finish the sentence but Jack knew what he'd wanted to say.

The Captain shrugged his shoulders in a helpless gesture. "Had better days, and had much worse. When it first shot me, I felt it. But the rest... it's all a bit of a blur. It must have looked so much worse to you than it was for me! Me, I don't really remember waking up in between... only after Gwen came in, when it was all over..."

Ianto gave a short laugh. "That's... that's good. And - you're okay now?"

Jack frowned. "Of course I am. I'm always okay in the end."

The welsh man sighed and nodded. "I know - but it's hard. Watching you die is never easy... holding your lifeless body in my arms and hoping that you do your magic trick and come back... today I couldn't even do that for you. Just had to watch while it did all those ... things to you, and I couldn't do anything to help you! I was so afraid that this time, it was too much, that this time, you wouldn't come back to me..."

"Oh, Ianto..." Jack took the man's face into his hands and locked eyes with his lover. "I'll always come back to you", he whispered in an assuring voice. "I don't want you to worry about me. It's okay. It's okay."

"I- I know." Ianto's voice was almost steady, but his eyes still reflected the fears he couldn't shake off, the fright of the day's events.

"Is there anything I can do? Anything to help you?", Jack asked desperately.

Ianto shook his head. "No." He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "No, those are my demons. But then, worrying about the ones you love, it's just natural. And watching them suffer- but I'll be alright." He glanced at Jack and cracked a smile. "But thank you for this evening. For everything. Couldn't have thought of a better cure."

Jack returned the smile, and they cuddled close together. Ianto pressed Play, and for the rest of the night, they tried to forget all about Torchwood and this day and their fears. From time to time, Ianto would tighten his embrace around Jack, as if to assure himself that his lover was still by his side, and Jack would then press a kiss on his hair, just like a silent promise.

Tonight, they had found their Paris.