Disclaimer:Torchwoodis property of the BBC and, as much as we may now resent it, was created by Russell T. Davies. If I owned any of the canon characters, I'd hope they'd be a) better treated and b) actually consistent. Now pass the Retcon ... and possibly some strong coffee ;)

Ianto rolled over, groaning, and slammed his palm down onto the alarm clock, finally silencing the piercing wail it had been emitting. Blearily, he tried to see what time it was. Six AM, he read, and turned right back over and snuggled back into the warmth of his duvet.

Fuck work – and fuck Jack.

He closed his eyes and sighed happily, curling his toes into the warm cotton surrounding him and feeling more lazy and content than he had for weeks. He'd almost thought 'more lazy and content than he had since the twenty-first century', but thinking of home brought a lump to his throat and more often than ever he'd had to start excusing himself to go and calm down.

He was so comfortable, he couldn't physically bring himself to move – not that he really minded that much at that moment. He knew he should probably give someone somewhere a call to tell them he wasn't going in to work, but that someone somewhere just so happened to be Jack, and since Ianto was ignoring him ringing in and asking for fake sick leave pretty much defeated the object.

In the peripheral of his conscious, Ianto was aware that his bedroom door had swung open and someone was calling his name. Groggily, he focussed on the sound, before eventually realising it was Rhys threatening to let Giacomo jump on him if he didn't get out of bed.

"M'sick." he mumbled, rubbing his cheek on the pillow as if trying to burrow further into it and escape the living world. Rhys unfolded his arms, concerned, and crossed over to the bed to test the heat of Ianto's forehead against the back of his palm.

"Your temperature's fine."

"I think it may be stress." he tried.

"If you wanna throw a sickie, I'll call in for you – unless you think it's necessary for me to get the rectal thermometer?"

Ianto shuddered at the thought of Rhys' probable lack of technique for anal probing. "Okay ... okay ... I wanna throw a sickie. I deserve a day off anyway." he grumbled.

"My thought exactly. Giacomo! I told you sugar on bread doesn't taste nice – nor will it do for breakfast!" Rhys snapped, jumping up and running out of Ianto's bedroom to where Giacomo stood in the hallway with a barm covered in caster sugar pulling a disgusted face. Rhys began wiping his mouth and taking the sugar-encrusted bread from him, his hair stuck up and wild from when it had been slept on.

"Is Ianto alright?" he asked, knowing that Ianto was usually up and dressed, making his way out of the door with a slice of toast and complaining loudly about Giacomo's things being left to lie around the flat where tired Welshmen might step on them by now.

"Jump on 'im and see." smirked Rhys, going to throw the ruined bread away.

Ianto had barely time to register what was happening before he found himself winded by what felt like a bowling ball barrelling into him. Giacomo was giggling evilly as Ianto groaned and tried to shove him off, only to have cold feet pressed into his bare stomach, making him yelp and jump.

"Little bugger ...." he grumbled, shoving him away playfully.

"You have to get out of bed!"

"I don't."

"Do!"

"Don't!"

"Do!"

"I'm not going to work, so I don't."

"Do I have to go to school?"

"Yes."

Giacomo folded his arms and pouted. "But I don't want to."

Ianto sighed. "You have to, though. Or else you won't learn anything, will you?"

Rhys appeared in the doorway. "C'mon, Jack. You need to get dressed – leave Ianto alone to enjoy his ... illness."

Giacomo obediently followed Rhys out of the room, closing Ianto's bedroom door behind him. Relieved to finally be alone again, Ianto pulled the duvets over his head and snuggled down until he was comfortable and drifted off again.

~*~*~*~

He was awoken an hour and half later by agitated voices down the hall. Rhys would have already taken Giacomo to school, so Ianto assumed they had a visitor of some sort. He lazily pretended he was straining his ears to listen, but oversleeping had robbed him of everything but the energy to simply roll over one more time and slip back into unconsciousness.

~*~*~*~

By lunchtime he was listless, so Ianto finally dragged himself from the sanctuary of his warm bedclothes, showered, dressed and sought out Rhys. He found him in the kitchen staring at a large-ish sheet of semi-transparent plastic that displayed a digital newspaper, remotely updated each week.

"Shall I make lunch?" offered Ianto, crossing over to the fridge and having a look inside.

"I already ate, sorry." smiled Rhys. "I thought you were lounging in bed all day."

"Got restless." Ianto explained, retrieving sliced ham from the fridge and going to cut himself two slices of bread. "Who was here earlier?" he asked conversationally.

"The Captain." Rhys replied blandly, not skipping a beat.

"What did he want?" Ianto frowned as he prepared his sandwich.

"He wanted to see you and I wouldn't let him – I told him you were off your feet with stress."

"Thanks."

"Anytime. Actually – if there's any bread and ham going spare ...."

Ianto smiled to himself and made Rhys a sandwich, too. He sat down and they ate together companionably while Rhys continued reading his newspaper.

"Ooo – they're doing two Winter Celebrations this year instead of one. Room for a dance floor instead of packing us all in."

"I know." Ianto nodded.

"The theme is purple and silver. Much better than last year – gold and green. Eugh!"

"I picked this year's colours." smiled Ianto, reaching to pour himself some orange juice from the jug in the middle of the table.

"Mmm." Rhys said over his sandwich, running his finger horizontally over the plastic sheet to turn the electronic pages of the paper. "Ooo! They're planning an off planet trip next year for no more than a hundred residents!"

"I know. It was my idea."

"Is there anything you don't know and slash or thought of?" asked Rhys, eyebrow arched.

Ianto paused mid-chew and shrugged. "Sorry. Can't help it."

"Mmm." agreed Rhys, and turned a few more pages. "Gossip section!" he grinned, and scanned the page. "Um ... on second thoughts ... let's skip that, shall we?"

"What? Why?" demanded Ianto, snatching it from him before he could protest. Ianto scanned the page, and glanced back up. "Well ... that's interesting." he grinned.

"It's ... good?"

Ianto drew a deep breath and read out loud: "Gossips were on red alert yesterday when our very own Captain had a public spat with his second-in-command, Mr. Ianto Jones.' – I mean, really? Second-in-command? They flatter me! – 'It appeared to onlookers that the Captain had intended to diffuse the argument by leading Mr. Jones to a public place, thinking that perhaps his right hand man would not dare to challenge him in front of people.' – and didn't that backfire – 'The row culminated with a cool, calm and collected Mr. Jones leaving the scene with a sullen Captain in tow, losing the power struggle to what appeared to be Mr. Jones' better judgement."

"The Captain's going to love that ...." murmured Rhys. "Whoever wrote it is in for it."

"It's anonymous."

"No wonder."

"I don't mind too much. They're sensationalising, but they're not entirely wrong."

"What were you arguing about?" asked Rhys, out of interest.

"I ... erm ... it was a personal matter."

"Trouble in paradise?"

"In a manner of speaking. What else is in this paper?" Ianto changed the subject, flicking over a few more pages. All the official stuff he already knew, but the gossip was interesting - seeing how he himself was perceived was interesting, too. It was strange reading about himself as written from another person's perspective, and it seemed he'd been written up as some form of Saint, come from wherever to reform the 'colony' and possibly even control the Captain. It amused him, but he had to stop reading eventually. A sudden pressure was setting about his shoulders, and he wished he was still ignorant to the perception - at least then he hadn't felt the need to live up to it.

"I'm getting a headache." he groaned, passing the paper back. "And where did they get this idea I'm some kind of Knight in Shining Armour?"

Rhys shrugged. "You turned up and all these changes started happening. The trips, the new complaints procedure, complaints actually being dealt with, people being moved to appropriate accommodation, the two separate parties so we can dance, the meetings - the lifts. Also, the fact their kids are now more willing to go run around outside racing sticks on the stream rather than sat inside gives you a lot of Brownie points with the parents."

Ianto was feeling himself blush. "I'm nothing special. It's ... it's just how things are supposed to be run ...."

"And you proved to the Captain that his decisions can be second-guessed." pointed out Rhys.

"Yeah. I suppose, but ... he's only human. And the lifts? We don't even know if we can have the lifts yet. I bet it'll be my fault if we don't."

"We will though. I don't doubt you." Rhys assured him.

Ianto rested his cheek on the arms he had folded on the table. He opened his mouth to speak, when a knock thundered through the door. "Jack again." he said bemusedly, getting up to go and answer it. He opened the door and did, indeed, find the Captain stood there.

"I thought you were ill." Jack remarked, his eyebrow raising.

"I'm feeling better now. Must've been a short-lived bug."

"Are you coming into work?"

"When my lunch break is over."

"Hm. Well, Rhys said you were ill and probably not going to be in all day, so don't bother. I brought your paperwork down for you and you can work from home."

"How thoughtful of you, sir."

"I expect you to return it to me tonight in alphabetical order. Once I've checked it you can file it."

"Tonight?"

"Tonight."

"I think you're being a little unreasonable ...." Ianto frowned as he saw the pile of paperwork at Jack's feet he was expected to file. "... and not the least bit childish. Aren't you supposed to be grovelling for my forgiveness?"

"I don't think so."

"I do." Ianto fixed him with a cold gaze and saw the flicker of guilt in Jack's eyes. "Anyway - myself and Rhys have a few things for you ...." He stepped back and picked up a cardboard box that he and Rhys had packed the night before after Ianto's breakdown. It had been a sort of spur-of-the-moment 'let's get back at him' idea, and Ianto was finding it more appealing now than ever before. He gave the large box to Jack, and watched him glance inside and clock what Ianto and Rhys had done. "For the new baby." Ianto explained, and Jack's mouth dropped slightly.
r
Inside the box, Rhys and Ianto had packed away all the clothes Giacomo had outgrown, as well as some soft toys, a baby rattle and some socks, slippers and an empty photograph frame.

"They're hand-me-downs," sighed Ianto. "but the youngest siblings always gets hand-me-downs, don't they?"

"Siblings?" frowned Rhys, and Jack's mouth opened and closed again.

"Turn of phrase." explained Ianto, waving off the comment, though Jack knew exactly what Ianto had meant and gave him a look filled with daggers.

"Thank you for your thoughtfulness." he said through practically gritted teeth. "I'm sure it will be repaid." he added, and turned on his heel, leaving Ianto to pick up the pile of papers he had left. He took the box with him, and Ianto was fairly certain while not being thrown away, it would find itself discarded somewhere where Jack wouldn't have to look at it.

He heaved the pile of paperwork onto the kitchen table and eyed it cautiously. "I'm never gonna do all this in one night, never mind alphabetise or file it." he sighed. "He's being difficult."

"I can't believe you actually gave him the box." laughed Rhys. "His face was classic! It's a shame the baby will never see the stuff, but it wasn't so precious Giacomo would notice any of it gone."

"Mmm." agreed Ianto, casting his eye over the form at the top of the file. "He's unbefuckinglievable."

"You should complain about him." suggested Rhys, crossing to the sink to do a bit of washing up.

"I would, but at the moment it's me who handles complaints."

"I'm sure it will be dealt with quickly and efficiently with maximum results, then?"

Ianto laughed. "Hmmm ... when you put it that way ...."

~*~*~*~

Ianto was up bright and early the next morning, dressed, pressed and ready for work. He sat behind his desk, logged into his computer and found the electronic documentation he'd sent himself the previous night. Reading over it and deciding he was still happy, he printed off the appropriate letters and forms for Jack, enveloped them and made his way down the corridor to Jack's office.

He entered without knocking, assuming Jack was still in bed, and just about managed to stop himself from yelling in surprise when he found the Captain already sat behind his desk.

"Where the hell were you last night?" asked the Captain gruffly.

"I got sick again. You didn't wait up, did you?"

"No." Jack snapped quickly. "Have you brought the completed work with you now?"

"I'll fetch it after I've made the coffee." Ianto told him, not waiting for approval before going into the kitchen and starting work on his perfect brew. He could feel Jack's eyes boring into him as he worked, and dared a glance into the reflective surface of the coffee machine. The Captain was closer than he'd thought, and he felt his breathing deepen as he took another step closer. Jack was oozing his pheromones, resting his hands on Ianto's waist as he tried to keep his own steady and pour coffee. He set the mug down, and as soon as Jack perceived the danger of scalding had passed, spun Ianto round to face him.

They stared at each other, daring the other to make the first move or to break away.

Ianto couldn't help it. He could only think, as he pretty much threw himself forward into Jack and pinned him to the opposite wall, that the Captain must have somehow evolved over the last six billion years. His pheromones were stronger, Ianto was certain, and it was almost as if Jack released them at will. Ianto forced their mouths together, pushing his tongue forward and curling his fingers into the Captain's hair as hands clawed at his suit and bunched it into fistfuls of expensive material. He hooked a hand behind Jack's knee, lifting his leg to wrap around him and they ground together as they kissed and bit, gasping, sighing and groaning into each others' mouths.

Jack dropped to his knees, unbuttoning Ianto's fly and taking him all down without preamble. Ianto moaned and leant forward, his hand on the wall to support him as Jack pulled back and began to suck, swirl and breathe on him. Reaching down, Ianto curled his fingers into Jack's hair and held his head still as he began to thrust in and out of his mouth, feeling tongue flicking up and swirling around in time to his harsh movement.

He came with relief, leaning his hand on the wall again, panting as Jack began to stand. He put his other hand on the wall as he felt warm fingers pulling at the loops of his trousers, tugging them down until his arse was exposed. He gasped as a hard slap cracked onto his upper thigh, and braced himself as another fell just as hard on the other. Closing his eyes, Ianto leant his forehead on the cool wall, hearing Jack's zip lowered and feeling cold gel pressed into his hole.

Jack didn't much bother preparing him properly - Ianto had figured by now that this wasn't about making amends or being nice - and pushed into him with a long, achingly and tantalizingly slow stroke. Ianto's prick was already reacting again, his breathing deepening with Jack's penetration, becoming sharper and sharper and hitching as Jack first began to move in a few slow thrusts, picking up his speed until he was relentlessly fucking Ianto for all he was worth.

At the last moment, Ianto lowered his hand and caught his own cum as he spurted towards the wall, and pushed back into Jack's body, the final tip that allowed Jack to find his own release.

Pretty much leaning on the wall for support, Ianto fought to get his breath back as Jack began to wordlessly wipe a damp cloth between his legs and over his hand. Ianto let him do it, then pulled up his trousers, tucked in his shirt and checked his reflection. A little flushed, but it's not like he had anyone to really hide it from. He gave Jack a curt nod, indicated the mug of strong, black coffee cooling on the work surface, turned on his heel and left.

Halfway down the corridor, Ianto took the letter about his 'complaint' out of his pocket and sighed. He settled it back in the breast of his jacket and entered his office, sitting in his chair and glaring at the paperwork he'd done the night before. He'd have to take it to Jack now - and if Ianto was honest with himself, he didn't really want to face Jack less than five minutes since their last encounter.

Ianto had to admit, though, it had felt good. Angry sex with Jack always did. His Jack had sometimes pissed him off on purpose, following the motto 'Angry Sex Is The Best!' and coming up with lots of wonderful ways to get Ianto annoyed enough to shag him rough.

Taking his old mobile phone out of his desk drawer and switching it on, he smiled down at the wallpaper of him and His Jack turning around to look at the camera in the back seat of the car. The sight of that old RAF coat brought a lump to Ianto's throat, and wondered if he might be able to get Mr. Turnbull the tailor to create something similar. No, thought Ianto. I have to keep My Jack and this Jack separate ... I think ....

He sighed and switched it off again before he started getting nostalgic, resting his head on the desk, still not quite through the afterglow and wishing he could just stop being so angry at Jack - and also wishing Jack would stop being such a dickhead. What was wrong with him? Ianto had only ever been good to him, tried to help him ... and Jack always knew eventually when to accept help, even if he did take a lot of persuading.

Ianto jumped as he heard a door slam down the corridor, and knew instantly it was Jack - there was no one else working on this floor. Frowning to himself, and realising the Captain was probably in a bad mood and should probably be dissuaded from being around people, Ianto hurried out into the corridor in time to see Jack's head disappearing down the stairs at the other end. Hurrying after him, Ianto called out his name but got no response.

"Jack!" he called, reaching out to touch his arm, and the Captain jumped, pulling earphones out of his ears and giving Ianto an alarmed look.

"What?"

"I've been shouting you from the top of the stairs." Ianto told him huffily.

"That's nice. What do you want?" asked the Captain, carrying on on his way.

"I ... uh ... I can't remember." he frowned, following. He didn't have to look to the side to know that Jack had raised an eyebrow, and the pair of them came to a halt when an elderly woman in a wheelchair came to stop half way through them walking past her.

"Captain? Mr. Jones?"

"Yes, Mrs. Kathaali?" smiled Jack, charming demeanour in place.

"Been hearing nasty rumours." she told them regretfully. "They sayin' you had a massive row."

"We did, ma'am." cut in Ianto. "But it's all fine now. We had a small disagreement that escalated, but as usual the Captain's word was, in the end, what was best." He added 'for now, anyway' in his meaningful glance at Jack.

"Uh ... yes - fine now. Everything's worked out." grinned Jack, though Ianto could tell it was all false. "You lied to her." he stated as they walked away.

"The sooner they think we've forgiven each other and moved on, so will they." explained Ianto. "We can keep our disagreements between ourselves, thank you."

"I thought you were supposed to be ignoring me, anyway."

"I'd be more than happy to pretend you don't exist, only other peoples' welfare hangs in the balance and communication of some description between us is essential."

"Communication like a hard shag against the wall?"

"That was a bit of fun, and also a mistake." scowled Ianto

"A mistake you're already fantasising about repeating."

"You might be."

"I am. You're incredibly tight when I don't finger you first."

"Jack!" Ianto snapped warningly, following him towards the gardens. "Where are you going, anyway?"

Jack paused in the cold sunlight and tipped his head back. "I just ... had to get outside." he sighed. "I suppose you coming with me during my relaxation period will be good for keeping up appearances." Jack added, going over to sit on a swing seat by the stream. After a moment or two of consideration Ianto sat on it with him, though a respectable distance away. Jack swung them gently, watching the stream as it babbled along.

"It's totally artificial, y'know." he said eventually.

"What is?" asked Ianto.

"The stream. About a mile over that way it disappears into the ground. A pump sends the water through pipes and and filters and it comes up again about a mile over the other way. Totally man-made. Totally fake."

"Doesn't mean it's not beautiful, though."

"It's cosmetic."

"It's a huge fountain. Loads of people have fountains, and they're beautiful and relaxing and people love them. Now stop whining about the stream."

Jack gave a small laugh and shook his head, gazing out into the green horizon. He folded his arms, thinking. "Why do you put up with me?" he asked quietly.

Ianto frowned and thought about it, listening to the tinkle of the stream as it ran past. "I honestly don't know." he sighed eventually, tipping his head back and shivering a little, wishing he'd brought a coat.

"I lie to you, I've been cruel to you. I told you to get the hell away and you just ... stayed through it all until I needed to be left alone."

"I suppose ..." thought Ianto. "I suppose I ... well ... there's the good times, too. You're a total cunt - and I hate that word - but you are. I probably sound like a battered wife when I say it, but the real you is behind that facade, and I can see it, even if you'd beat me with words just to stop me getting near to it."

"I'm sorry about ... about Elaine. And the baby. I was gonna tell you but ...."

"But you were frightened it might actually work and drive me away?"

Jack said nothing, keeping his eyes focussed on the horizon. Ianto took that as a 'yes'.

"Jack ... you ... I don't understand why you say you can't ... y'know ... feel anything for me."

"You won't ever understand." Jack said decisively. "Ever. Just ... stop worrying about it. When we're not angry at each other, we can go back to the pretending we did before."

"That was pretending?"

"Yes."

"You've become one helluva an actor."

"You said yourself you know I was a con man at one point. I don't remember it, but the Doctor shows me the memories sometimes."

"The ... the Doctor ...? You ... you still know him?"

Jack laughed. "He's a time traveller! He turns up every now and then to make me feel guilty about myself then scarpers before ... erm ... before ... I ... I can't remember ...."

The Captain rubbed his face with his hands and sighed again. "You knew the Doctor?" he asked eventually.

"Sort of. We chatted on Facebook once."

"Will he remember you?"

"I don't know. Depends where in his timeline ... you think ... do you think ... could he show you memories ... ?"

"The chances of him turning up during your lifetime is very slim." Jack cut him off.

"Jack!" called a jovial voice from their left, and Ianto turned and felt his jaw drop as the man in question approached at an alarming speed. Some way off, a little blue box sat in the distance, conspicuous against the green of the grass and the grey of the sky. "And ... is that ...?" the Doctor stopped suddenly, his long brown coat swaying around his long, skinny legs. "Jones? Ianto Jones?"

"Yessir." Ianto sprung to his feet and offered his hand, only to find himself crushed in a bone-cracking embrace while the Doctor babbled excitedly.

"I knew you'd turn up! I just knew it! Cor! Look at you! Healthier than ever - if maybe a little bit skinnier - and the cold really does put colour in your cheeks! Jack! Jack! What did I tell you? I told 'He'll turn up, Jack. Don't worry. The Timey Wimey Wibbly Wobbly is bigger on the outside than in!' The TARDIS said he was still on your timeline - though I didn't quite imagine he'd be this far along ..."

"Doctor ... I ... so good to see you ..." Jack managed to say, his eyes flicking between the Doctor and Ianto.

"So - how are you both?" asked the Doctor. "Getting on like a house on fire?"

"Erm ... yes?" agreed Ianto.

"Good! Good! Just like old times - well, I think like old times. Sort of. I don't know - I only ever heard the stories of Jack and Ianto after the Rift took the most sensible half, and believe me were you two a pair of ... erm ... Jack - are you alright?" the Doctor frowned, taking a step closer to him.

"I'm fine. Just ... surprised you're here. Pleasantly surprised, obviously."

The Timelord narrowed his eyes, then reached into his pocket and produced his Sonic Screwdriver.

"You don't feel right." frowned the Doctor as he began to buzz it in Jack's direction, despite his rather fevered protest.

"I never felt right." scowled Jack, and Ianto bit his lip, knowing exactly what Jack was referring to.

"I mean ... you're not whole ...." the Doctor said quietly, still buzzing. "Jack? What ... what have you done ...?"

"Nothing."

"Jack. Either you tell me or ..." The buzzing on the screwdriver changed pitch slightly and the light flashed a little differently and the Doctor made an 'ahhhh' of realisation. His face turned deadly serious. "Jack: either you tell me where it is, or I find it myself." he growled, his voice low and dangerous. Ianto took an impulsive step towards Jack as the Captain and the Timelord tried to stare each other down.

Eventually Jack caved.

"The ... the basement. It's in the bay ... I'll show you ... but ... b-but you understand, don't you, Doctor? You won't hurt him?"

"I doubt I could hurt him more than you have, Captain." said the Doctor sadly.

Ianto flicked his eyes between them both. "Okay - what the hell is going on?" he demanded, standing in the Doctor's path.

The Doctor's face softened. "Nothing's going on."

"Nothing." Jack agreed.

Ianto raised an eyebrow, strengthened his stance and folded his arms. "Tell me, or I swear to God I may go slightly mental."

"He's the one you told me I should be careful not to make angry, isn't he?" the Doctor muttered to Jack.

"Most probably." gulped the Captain. "Look ... Ianto ... just ... give us some time alone, please?"

Ianto narrowed his eyes. "You've been hiding something, and the cagier you get, the more I know I need to know what it is."

"I think ..." cut in the Doctor. "... Jack and I need to sort this out first, and then ... then explain to you. It would be much easier that way."

"What's going on?" demanded Ianto. "Has this got something to do with ... what we were talking about?"

Jack nodded.

Ianto bit his lip. "What 'him' are you hurting?"

"Ianto: leave it." Jack practically snapped, and Ianto knew that patience would probably be better than carrying on and working himself up to 'all guns blazing'. He gave a curt nod, and turned back to the building.

It was at that moment the aging plexiglass, metals and brickwork of the right hand side collapsed, taking the schoolrooms with it.