Chapter 2

Jack slid the key into the lock as quietly as he could, not wanting to incur the wrath of Ianto if he was wide awake and sober, however much he doubted either would be the case. He hadn't dared to phone up, just in case Ianto had gone to bed - he never took well to being woken up once he had managed to fall asleep.

However, Jack had been unable to sleep; he needed to talk to someone and to Ianto in particular. It was only on the way over that it occurred to him that if Ianto had drunk himself into a stupor there wouldn't be much point in talking to him and he'd almost turned back to the Hub. Then, finally, he realised that considering the state that Ianto had been in, he really shouldn't have let him storm off to get drunk on his own.

The first thing Jack noticed as he stepped into the flat was that although the lights were still on, there was no sound to be heard. Closing the door softly behind him, he reached down to remove his boots – no point irritating Ianto further by walking mud into his carpet.

A quick peek into the living room confirmed that it was unoccupied, but the discarded suit jacket and assorted empty spirit bottles on the simple pine coffee table made it clear that Ianto had been there. Jack frowned as he mentally catalogued the labels that were all the evidence of the gin, whisky, vodka and rum that had been imbibed. He could picture Ianto gathering whatever he could find to drink and methodically working through one bottle after another until he'd achieved oblivion.

On one hand it saddened Jack that his 'news' had been quite so devastating and on the other he was envious, as he'd also felt like getting thoroughly drunk when the first pregnancy test proved positive. By the time he'd carried out twenty of them, he'd almost come to terms with the results.

Sighing heavily, Jack made his way to the bedroom, hoping to find Ianto passed out in there, because he really didn't want to find him collapsed on the bathroom floor. Unfortunately the bedroom was as deserted as the living room, but what was worse was that it showed no signs of having been occupied that evening. The bed was still perfectly made up – the duvet fluffed up, not even bearing the impression of a body.

The door to the bathroom wouldn't open all the way, there was something behind it – somebody. Looking through the gap revealed Jack's suspicions to be true – Ianto Jones lay in the sort of heap that made him look like a puppet whose strings had been cut. A dark red smudge on the washbasin caused Jack to take a sharp intake of breath, especially when he saw the fresh abrasion on Ianto's forehead that told yet another chapter in the story of how he'd spent his evening.

Jack cursed himself for not finding a better way of telling his lover he was pregnant. He'd only had to do it once before in his entire life and that time the father had just punched him. Mind you he'd hit him back straight away. Then they'd had a full blown fight that ended up in angry make up sex. All par for the course for that relationship.

However, this was Ianto and they didn't trade blows, apart from that one time when Ianto had punched him in the face and even though that had bloody hurt he'd not hit him back. Jack didn't want to imagine what had been going through Ianto's head as he'd sat on his own pouring alcohol down his throat, with no purpose other than to blot out the fact that he'd told him that he was to be the father of his unborn child.

A groaning sound alerted Jack to the fact that Ianto was either regaining consciousness or about to vomit, or maybe even both. As it happened, it was the former closely followed by the latter.

Jack was glad that he'd decided to risk the younger man's anger by stopping by at his flat, at least he could take care of the aftermath of his announcement. Once he'd cleaned up Ianto, undressed him and put him to bed in the recovery position, he washed the bathroom floor and bundled up the wrecked clothes, putting them into a plastic bag that he tied off.

Then he put his coat back on and settled down on top of the bed, next to Ianto. He still couldn't sleep, but he wasn't going to let Ianto out of his sight for now, not until they'd come to some decisions. He owed him that much.

Ianto eventually forced open an eyelid to prove to himself that there weren't actually weevils attempting River Dance routines on the laminate flooring of the bedroom. The thudding in his skull was apparently his own brain attempting to escape. The light spilling in through the open curtains hurt his eyes, so he squinted as he blearily focused on the radio alarm until he could make out the numbers: 8:04am. Fuck - he'd overslept.

Ianto's mouth and throat felt dry, in fact worse than dry – they felt as though they'd been vacuumed. Running his tongue over his teeth, he had the awful realisation that he'd been sick at some point. Reaching out blindly, his hand made contact with the bottle of water he kept on the nightstand – strangely it seemed to move a few centimetres closer so that he could grasp it more easily. A few gulps of water refreshed his mouth but as soon as the cool liquid hit his stomach, he felt it rebel furiously and had to swallow hard to ensure it stayed down.

"You gonna puke again? Let me know and I'll fetch a bucket."

"Jack?" In an automatic response to waking up to find Jack in his bedroom, Ianto did a quick check under the bedclothes and confirmed that he was, indeed, naked. But Jack was dressed, still in his coat, crouching next to the bed. "We didn't go weevil hunting again did we?"

"No," Jack stated firmly. "Do you remember anything about last night at all?"

"Umm… can you give me a clue?" Ianto tried to sit up, but the room was spinning around him so fast that he decided to stay lying down until it slowed down.

"By the time I got here you were passed out and hugging the bathroom floor. But it did look as if you'd tried to crawl into a bottle and die. Make that four bottles."

"Fuck."

"Coming back to you yet?"

"Shit." Ianto rolled onto his stomach and pulled a pillow over his head.

"Would that be 'yes'?"

Jack reached down to lift the pillow away from Ianto's head.

"Ianto?"

"Please tell me I inhaled hallucinogenic alien gas and then came home and got drunk." Ianto groaned into the mattress, unable to face Jack, worried at what he might see.

"Sorry – only half right."

"Shit. So I didn't imagine it and you are pregnant?" Ianto still held onto the forlorn hope that Jack would burst out laughing and tell him that he'd been winding him up all along. Then he'd kill him, but at least he'd be able to face getting out of bed.

"Yeah – and we really need to talk about that."

"Oh God …"

Jack steered Ianto into the autopsy bay and propped him against the examination table.

"Stand there and I'll get you one of those pills that Owen takes for hangovers."

"What – he has special pills?"

"How else do you think he functions half the time?"

"Fair point."

"Here – and drink some water with it."

Once Ianto had swallowed the small green pill, he stood back as Jack placed a hand on the scanner and the machine illuminated the white tiled wall with a rotating image of Jack's internal organs. This wasn't a view that Ianto's delicate constitution was ready for, especially the wriggling foetus that appeared to be floating just above Jack's bladder.

Jack only just made it across the room in time to grab hold of Ianto as his knees buckled and he began to slide downwards.

"Whoa there." Jack grabbed hold of Ianto, pressing him against the wall, a knee between his legs to keep him from falling any further.

"What the fuck's going on? I thought I'd told you two never to play doctors and nurses in here again!"

"Give me a hand here, Owen – Ianto's about to faint."

"Not fainting – just feeling a bit queasy that's all." Ianto braced his hands against the wall behind him, the coolness of the tiles a pleasant relief for his clammy palms.

"You sick?" Owen scowled as he took in the pasty appearance of Ianto's face. "You're looking a bit on the green side."

"No, he's not sick – just hung over."

"What?" Owen feigned confusion. "Didn't think you had to get him drunk to shag him."

"Shut the fuck up, Owen, or at least taunt him quietly – my head is killing me." Ianto had his eyes shut, not willing to take the risk that his stomach was ready to deal with the reality of Jack's condition projected on the wall in front of him.

"You need one of my special pills-"

"I already gave him one," Jack interrupted.

Owen frowned and began to look genuinely concerned as it was obvious that Ianto was feeling quite ill. He needed Jack to get him settled while he fetched his diagnostic scanner.

"OK then, sit him down on the floor and I'll – what the fuck is that?!"

Jack spun round to see Owen pointing in horror at the frozen image displayed on the wall.

"Harkness, is that what it fucking looks like?"

"What does it look like, Owen?" Jack shrugged as nonchalantly as he could, which wasn't easy sitting on the floor with Ianto burying his head into his shoulder as if seeking to disappear without trace.

"My medical opinion is that it looks like a human foetus."

"Um … well… you see …"

"Fucking hell – teaboy's got you up the duff hasn't he?" Owen prodded Ianto with his foot.

The doctor's words filtered through to Ianto and he was disturbed by the fact that Owen sounded outraged rather than incredulous. There was only one conclusion he could come to:

"Owen – did you know that Jack could get pregnant?"

"Of course I knew – I'm his doctor, I've scanned his innards often enough. Bizarre arrangement of ducts leading from the wall of the rectum through to the vestigial uterus – but never fully developed-"

"Oestrogen in the rain prevented them opening fully-" Jack helpfully enlightened the medic.

"For fuck's sake. You stupid bastard - I could have given you a subdermal implant to keep the levels up to prevent this from happening!"

"I never thought-"

"Shut up, both of you – now!" Ianto yelled, pushing Jack away from him. "So, Owen knew that you were capable of getting pregnant, but you never bothered telling me? Either of you?"

"Patient confidentiality," Owen stated, glaring at Jack.

"Ianto, you have to understand – it was on a need-to-know basis." Jack ran his hand through his hair, wondering how the hell matters had managed to get even worse.

"I think I needed to know that sticking my cock in your arse could get you pregnant." Ianto didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to, his eyes bored holes through Jack's skull as deftly as any sharp implement. He was beyond angry.

Jack took a breath as if to he was about to defend his decision to keep those facts to himself, but realising there was no plausible defence, he let the breath out again in a noisy sigh and resigned himself to the fact that this pregnancy was going to go no better than the last one. There had been a damn good reason why he had said 'never again'.

"Congratulations, Jones, despite many years working for Torchwood, your sperm are still viable." Owen slapped Ianto on the back. "That's quite a medical achievement by all accounts. Mind you, you'll have to fight it out with Jack over paternity leave."

"Please, tell me this isn't happening-" Ianto groaned.

It was then that Ianto noticed how thoroughly dejected Jack was looking and he suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. He'd not stopped to think how Jack must be feeling about all of this. Not wanting to say anything out loud in front of Owen, he reached out to take hold of Jack's hand and was rewarded by a surprised, yet grateful smile.

"Meanwhile, I'll have to check with the deep tissue scanner, but that looks like it's well into its second trimester." Owen took a step nearer the suspended image on the wall and pointed at the curled foetal shape. "Which means you're officially off active duty, Harkness. Also, I'm relinquishing you of command on medical grounds."

"You can't do that, Owen!" Jack growled angrily. It was what he'd feared and why he'd been determined not to let Owen find out until much later on.

"Yes, I fucking can and what's more, you can't stay in Cardiff either."