Author's Notes: This is kind of an unplanned bonus chapter. It's a bit of a light interlude, but hopefully it's still enjoyable. Thanks to Quiet Time for providing the prompt which inspired the scene in the second half of the chapter. Hope I did it justice!

The next chapter will return to James and Dylan, then it's going to be time for Jack's inevitable departure. My sincere thanks to everyone who continues to read, review and support this story. And of course, thanks to the brilliant Prothrombintime, who always so graciously finds time to read my ramblings and offer feedback and encouragement.

Chapter Fifty-Two

October 11th, 2007 (continued)

After their emotional conversation that morning, the rest of Ianto's day was anti-climatic and decidedly mundane. He and Jack had enjoyed a quiet cup of coffee together, then Jack had showered and gotten himself ready for the day, and, as had become their routine, he'd assisted Ianto with showering and the rest of his morning ablutions. Then he'd departed for the Hub, kissing Ianto firmly, and reminding him to call if he needed anything.

Jack had phoned later that morning to say he hadn't been able to get them an appointment at Alonso's until the following day, and with his next physical therapy session not until the day after tomorrow, Ianto had spent the entire day at the apartment. Welcoming the solitude, he'd spent some time reflecting and writing in his diary, and the afternoon had been punctuated by a visit from Owen.

The acerbic medic had immediately picked up on the change in Ianto's demeanour. "So, the two of you have finally sorted yourselves out?" Owen had asked with his trademark unapologetic candour. "Well, thank God for that! Maybe our illustrious leader will stop stomping around like a bear with a bloody sore head all the time." Then he'd clapped Ianto heartily on the shoulder. "It's good to see you looking happy again, mate. After everything you've been through, you deserve it."

Ianto had made them coffee and they'd chatted amiably for a while before Owen gave him a check-up and took his leave. But Owen's casually offered words of support had stayed with him, and he'd felt the familiar stirrings of guilt niggle at the walls of his consciousness. Although he felt like an indescribably heavy weight had finally lifted, he wasn't sure if he had the right to be happy again. Not when Lisa and so many others had lost their lives... and not when Jack had to endure the torment of perpetual life, suffering the pain of losing everyone he allowed himself to care about.

He'd hesitantly voiced his concerns to Jack later that evening. He was lying naked on their bed, spread out on his stomach, an equally naked Jack in the process of pampering him with a full body massage.

"I understand how you feel, Ianto," Jack said quietly. "Believe me, I do. Perhaps better than anyone. But as trite as it sounds, life is for the living, and we honour the dead by living our lives as best we can. Otherwise the guilt will eat away at you until there's nothing left."

Ianto turned his head to look up at Jack. The pain reflected in the depths of Jack's eyes reminded him that Jack had witnessed the loss of life on a scale far exceeding the events of Canary Wharf. Looking abashed, Jack leaned down and kissed Ianto's bare shoulder. "That's a lesson I need to remind myself not to forget, too."

They'd spoken few words after that, losing themselves in each other's bodies.

It was later when they were wrapped around each other, relaxed and languid as they shared the occasional unhurried kiss, that Ianto found Jack gazing at him curiously. "Ianto... if you didn't work for Torchwood, what would you do?"

Ianto stiffened in Jack's arms, and from the look on Jack's face, the older man had obviously realised how his question had been interpreted. "Hey, relax. I'm not going to retcon you and try to set you up in a new life. I promised I won't try to push you away again."

Jack extricated his right arm from their embrace and shifted so he was resting on his elbow. Peering down at Ianto, he shrugged slightly. "I'm just curious, that's all."

Ianto took a deep breath. For one awful moment, he'd wondered if Jack had changed his mind about them staying together. Silently berated himself for being paranoid, he sighed and looked down at where Jack's left hand was lightly stroking his stomach. "It's a bit daft," he muttered.

"What is?" Jack asked, the movement of his hand coming to a halt.

"You'll laugh at me."

"No, I won't. Unless you're going to tell me you secretly dream of running away, joining the circus, and becoming a clown. Then all bets are off."

Ianto shuddered. "I hate clowns."

"Huh." Jack chuckled softly. "Guess I'd better not take you to the circus next time it's in town then."

"No, really." Ianto looked up into Jack's eyes again. "Absolutely terrified of them."

Jack leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. "Don't worry, I'll protect you from the scary old clowns. So are you going to tell me?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "No."

"Hmm." Jack traced a finger teasingly along the sensitive skin of Ianto's inner thigh, causing a shiver to run along his spine. "I'm sure I don't need to remind you that I'm intimately familiar with every inch of this gorgeous body of yours. I know all your most ticklish spots. I bet I can have you begging for mercy in under sixty seconds."

Ianto narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't dare."

Jack gave him a devilish grin. "Are you sure about that?"

Ianto breathed out a sigh of resignation, knowing he'd been beaten. "Fine. Okay... well, I used to think I'd like to be a writer... I wanted to write spy stories." He sighed again, pressing his eyes closed so he wouldn't have to see the mockery in Jack's face. "See, I told you it was daft," he muttered.

"No, it's not," Jack said, and Ianto opened his eyes again to find the other man merely looking thoughtful. "So, you'd be sort of like a modern day Ian Fleming, huh? Well, you enjoy writing. You're always writing in your diary. You've got a brilliant mind, you're imaginative, and you're very eloquent. Plus, that Bond obsession of yours might come in handy. So, no, I don't think it's daft at all."

"It's not an obsession," Ianto retorted indignantly, but touched by Jack's belief in him. "Just a healthy interest."

"Of course it is," Jack agreed, the amusement evident in his voice. "Well, for what it's worth, I think you could be a brilliant writer, Ianto." His features tensed and flickered with regret. "I'm sorry you'll probably never get the chance to try."

"Doesn't matter," Ianto said resolutely. Tilting his head up, he kissed Jack firmly on the lips, not wanting him to descend into a mire of guilt and self-recrimination again. "We've been through this, Jack. I'm exactly where I want to be."

"I know," Jack said, and to Ianto's relief, his features began to relax again. He nudged Ianto's shoulder. "So, what else would you do?"

"Oh." Ianto bit down on his lower lip as he thought for a moment. "Um... well, I suppose I'd like to travel a bit. You know, see some of the world."

Jack nodded. "Paris."

"Sorry?" Ianto frowned in confusion.

Jack gave him a small, sad smile. "When Gwen was talking about her honeymoon in Paris. I remember the look on your face. You envied her."

"I suppose I did," Ianto admitted, recalling how he'd felt all those months ago. He hadn't realised his emotions had been quite so transparent, but he knew Jack had grown extremely adept at reading him, no matter how hard he tried to hide what he was feeling. "Just for a moment. It sounded nice... exciting. To see somewhere completely new. Apart from London, I've never had the chance to do that."

"I'll take you there someday," Jack said suddenly, determination filling his voice. "I can't say when, but maybe in the new year, once you're recovered and the Rift looks like it's going to give us a break. We could at least stay overnight and see some of the sights." He paused and glanced over to where his wrist-strap was sitting on the bedside table. "If my Vortex Manipulator still worked, I could take you anywhere on the planet in the blink of an eye. Anywhere in the entire galaxy even." He sighed heavily. "If things were different, I'd show you the wonders of what's out there, Ianto."

Ianto pulled Jack down and into a fierce kiss. "It's enough that you want to, Jack," he murmured when they'd eventually pulled apart and settled comfortably against each other. "More than enough."

###

It was the following day, and Jack looked at Ianto from across their table with an expression that seemed to be a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "Well, this wasn't what I thought you had in mind when you said you wanted to go on a date." His eyes narrowed with suspicion. "And I thought you didn't like ice-cream."

"Oh, I don't," Ianto agreed, allowing himself a small smirk. He gestured towards Jack's enormous and sinfully decadent serving of vanilla and chocolate ice-cream adorned with more toppings than he could count. "How's the sundae?"

"Mmm. It's delicious." Jack spooned a large scoop into his mouth and a glob of strawberry topping dribbled down his chin. "Sure you don't want some?"

Rolling his eyes, Ianto passed him a white paper napkin. "No, thanks. I'm fine."

Jack grinned unrepentantly and wiped at his face. Glancing around the sparsely populated shop, Ianto was glad they'd managed to avoid the busier times of the day. His walking stick stood conspicuously beside his chair, and he'd struggled to get to their table under his own steam, having tired himself out with the brief journeys from the apartment to the car and then from the car to the hairdressing salon. It was with great relief when he'd eased himself into the chair at their table in the ice-cream parlour and been able to take the weight off his legs.

He took a generous mouthful of his chocolate ice-cream milkshake and swallowed. As a sharp stab of pain shot through his skull a moment later, he regretted his carelessness. "Ow," he muttered, pulling a face and rubbing at his forehead. "It's too cold. I'm getting a headache."

"That's what you always say," Jack said with a chuckle, his tone of voice entirely unsympathetic.

"Well, that's because it's true," Ianto retorted, scowling at him indignantly.

It was a familiar routine and it took all of his stoic reserve not to break into a broad grin, the rush of joy from sharing something so simple and mundane with Jack once again temporarily banishing the darkness of the last several months. He was under no illusions that everything was completely fixed between them, and he knew their relationship would continue to be fraught with difficulties and heartache. But for now he was elated just to have Jack back as his lover and partner.

Waiting until the ice-cream induced headache began to ease, Ianto took a smaller, more tentative sip. Lifting his gaze back to Jack, he found the older man staring at him intently, and he wondered if he was imagining the hungry glint in Jack's eyes.

He frowned in confusion. "What? Is there something on my face?"

"You've got a milk moustache."

"Oh." Unable to resist the temptation, he gave Jack a devilish grin and ran his tongue slowly along his upper lip, collecting the residue of chocolate flavoured milk. Jack's eyes widened in response and he swallowed hard. "Better?" he asked innocently.

Jack exhaled a sigh of obvious frustration and nodded. "Yeah. Although that wasn't what I had in mind for cleaning it up." He produced a put-upon pout. "You spoil all my fun."

"Not always," Ianto said mildly, his mind drifting back to their activities together the previous evening. With some serious making up to do, he thought they'd made a very satisfactory start. And in the morning, he'd had the pleasure of waking up to find Jack stretched out beside him, soundly sleeping and snoring softly.

"Besides, it's probably for the best," he continued, giving Jack a knowing grin. "Wouldn't want you being inappropriate in public, and I think it's safe to say that whatever you had in mind would have ended with you being on decaf for a month. Maybe even two."

Very deliberately, he took another sip of his milkshake, ensuring his upper lip was again coated liberally. Lowering the glass, he quirked an eyebrow as he gave Jack a challengingly stare. He suspected few people knew that Jack could show surprising self-restraint when the stakes were sufficiently high.

To Jack's credit, he didn't immediately relent. "I think you're bluffing. You've tried that threat before and never followed through."

Ianto shrugged. "Want to put your theory to the test, Captain?"

They stared hard at each other for a long moment, neither of them backing down. Finally, Jack growled and thrust a white napkin across the table. "Here. Has anyone ever told you you're a shameless tease?"

"Once or twice." Ianto took the napkin from Jack. "Thank you," he said politely, using it to wipe his upper lip. He smiled sweetly at Jack and continued drinking his milkshake, careful to avoid any further incidents.

It was a couple of minutes later when he realised Jack was staring at him again, this time his expression seemed more wistful and harder to read. "Jack? Something wrong?"

Jack shook his head, a soft smile playing over his lips. "Just admiring the view and thinking how good it is to have my gorgeous Ianto back again. And you know, it's amazing what a difference a haircut can make."

Ianto self-consciously ran a hand through his freshly cut hair, now restored to its usual short, neat style. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"Not at all," Jack replied. "Don't get me wrong, I liked it. A lot." He paused, a teasing grin creeping across his lips, the wistful expression suddenly gone. "Actually, it was kind of ador–"

Ianto narrowed his eyes. "Don't you dare say it, Jack!"

"Well, it was! And very sexy too." Jack gave him a suggestive leer. "Kind of a shame you didn't grow a beard to go with the longer hair though. That would have been really something."

Ianto huffed derisively and rolled his eyes. He'd always hated not being cleanly shaven, and as much as he found a lightly stubbled Jack strangely arousing, he'd never thought facial hair on himself was a good look. If that was one of Jack's fantasies, it would have to remain firmly in the realms of his imagination. There was little he wouldn't do to give Jack pleasure, but even he had his limits. "Right. From this moment on, the 'A' word is banned from your vocabulary."

"You can't do that," Jack protested.

"Yes, I can. I just did. Don't make me bring out the 'D' word again, Jack. You know I will."

"Well, if you get to ban a word, so do I. And I'm banning you from ever threatening me with the 'D' word again." Jack grinned triumphantly.

Ianto thought for a moment. "All right. Deal."

"What? Just like that?" Jack looked at him suspiciously.

"Yep." Ianto gave him an impish smile. "Besides, there's plenty of other things I can do to keep you in line. And you know how much I enjoy a challenge."

Jack groaned dramatically, and they continued their playful banter for several more minutes until a comfortable silence eventually settled between them. Ianto had just finished his milkshake when Jack reached across the table and grasped hold of his hand, stroking the tips of his fingers lightly over Ianto's palm.

"I really have missed this," he said softly, his eyes looking earnestly into Ianto's. "Thanks for not giving up on me."

"Never could," Ianto replied, his chest tightening with the undisguised honesty in Jack's voice. He wound their fingers together and squeezed Jack's hand tightly.

He didn't know what fate had in store for them or what calamity might strike next that would threaten to tear them apart. The trauma of Canary Wharf still felt like a raw, open wound that he knew would remain long after his physical injuries had healed. Meanwhile, Jack would continue to suffer with the impossible weight of his condition, living in fear of the day when Ianto's life irrevocably came to an end.

But, despite all of those obstacles, Ianto felt cautiously hopeful for the first time in what seemed like a long while. He just hoped their reprieve wouldn't be too brief. He hoped he and Jack could have a little time just to enjoy being together once again.