Chapter 4

Jack swallowed down the bile that was rising in his throat and set about pinpointing the position of his team. Owen had spoken to him briefly, describing Ianto's predicament before cutting off as Tosh called out that she'd got the rope from the SUV. The last thing Jack heard before the line went dead was Owen cursing the weather.

At the back of his mind was the thought that if anything happened to Ianto it would be his fault, because he'd not allowed the man to get a full night's sleep since he'd moved into the cottage in the north of Wales. He'd got into the habit of calling him late at night because that's when he knew he'd be on his own and able to talk freely.

The pressure of keeping Jack's pregnancy secret had been wearing on them both. Owen was hardly the easiest person to have a heart to heart with and although Jack knew that he had subtly run interference whenever Gwen tried to find out what Jack was up to, he'd not had much to offer Ianto in the way of support. Jack and Ianto communicated much better on a physical level than with words, so being restricted to mumbled, hesitant phone calls in the middle of the night had hardly been conducive to getting either man to admit to either fears or feelings.

Now, however, Jack needed to suppress the fears he felt coursing through his veins and co-ordinate the rescue from a distance. There was no way he could get there in person, so he made sure he made his presence felt as he put in calls to the emergency services and pulled as many strings as he could lay his hands on.

"Gwen!" He called out roughly over the phone line. "Listen up – do whatever you can do to secure Ianto's position until the rescue chopper gets there. They're on their way to your position along with an ambulance."

"Jack, I don't know if we can –" Gwen's voice shook as if she was as scared of Jack's reaction as she was of losing Ianto.

"Don't you dare lose him, Gwen Cooper – I'm depending on you."

If it hadn't been infuriating enough that there was no way he could get to the hospital to see Ianto, Jack had to put up with Gwen's indignation whenever he called to ask for a progress report. She didn't have to speak her mind, her tone of voice said it all – she was furious with him for not making the effort to get back to Cardiff to see Ianto. She basically accused him of not caring and that hurt. He cared more than he dared let any of them know.

Owen sent him pictures of Ianto in his hospital bed to prove to Jack that he was still alive and hadn't been dashed to pieces on the rocks at the bottom of Penarth Cliffs. The stark white bandages, tubes and monitors only served to remind Jack just how close he'd got to losing Ianto.

Owen put away his phone after sending yet another set of images of Ianto in bed to Jack. He almost felt as if he was being caught up in one of their weird sex games, until he looked up again at the sleeping face of Ianto Jones. He wanted him to wake up again so he could at least send Jack a picture of him with his eyes open, that might be more convincing proof that he was going to be alright. As it was Jack was pestering him night and day for updates on his condition.

It had taken Ianto a while to regain consciousness after he'd come out of surgery. Owen put that down to exhaustion and his body's need for a rest. Hardly surprising all things considered. He'd been lucky, only a few deep wounds that had caused significant blood loss, those from where jagged branches had torn into his legs as he'd hung from the cliff being battered by the elements. Bruises, cuts, torn ligaments, a couple of cracked ribs and a fractured radius – not too bad, not compared with the state the weevil had been in when they'd eventually fished it out of the sea.

Owen smiled at Tosh as she ran her fingertips over the cast on Ianto's left forearm. She had visited regularly and asked discreetly if Jack had been in touch. She was wise enough to know that there was more to Jack's 'secondment' than met the eye, but was also clever enough to know that she'd find out more by saying less. The dark circles under Ianto's eyes and the fact that he'd taken to spending the night in Jack's office had spoken volumes to her. She wondered if Jack was taking their separation as badly. Looking over at Owen tucking his mobile back in his pocket she smiled at him, knowing exactly who he'd been in touch with.

Jack had wondered if Owen would cancel his weekly visit in order to keep an eye on Ianto, although he desperately wanted to talk to him in person – find out how Ianto was getting on. Although he rarely slept, he had been napping during the day, partly due to the pregnancy and partly down to boredom, but since the accident he'd been unable to rest, anxious all the time that there might be setbacks to Ianto's recovery and not trusting the team to tell him. Especially Gwen, she was barely speaking to him. She couldn't understand how he could possibly abandon Ianto when he obviously needed him. If only she knew how much he'd needed Ianto in the past several weeks.

The sound of tyres on the gravel drive alerted Jack to the fact that Owen had come to perform his weekly check-up and he rubbed his face wearily. The log fire had made him drowsy and the effort of getting up from the over stuffed armchair slowed him down as he got to his feet. He frowned as he thought he heard more than one car door being slammed shut. Maybe it wasn't Owen? He took his gun from the pocket of his coat that was hanging on a hook by the front door and pulled the curtains back to see who it was. The grin that split his face took him by surprise, he'd had little cause for smiling in the past few months, let alone grinning like a fool.

"Oi – Harkness! I've got a visitor for you – come on and open the bloody door!"

Standing outside next to Owen was Ianto Jones, in jeans and jumper, looking pale but definitely alive. On the ground at his feet was a large holdall and several carrier bags.

"Owen said I had to take another week off work, reckoned I needed some fresh air and a rest."

"A week?"

"Yeah – I'm leaving him here with you and I'll collect him when I come up next week."

Jack wanted to rush over and grab hold of Ianto in a massive hug, but he appeared too fragile for that. Instead he walked over and wrapped an arm protectively around his shoulders and escorted him into the cottage.

Owen thoroughly berated Jack for not taking care of himself, having hardly eaten or slept and having allowed his blood pressure to rocket on several occasions since his last visit, which had been two weeks ago. He told him in no uncertain terms that unless he started behaving more responsibly he'd cancel any further conjugal visits. Owen had carried out his examination in the medical room, leaving Ianto to unpack the carrier bags of food in the kitchen with strict instructions to sit down as soon as he'd finished that task.

"How is he?" Jack looked in the direction of the kitchen. He was anxious for Owen to complete his scans and go so that he could he could be alone with Ianto, he'd not seen him for over six weeks and he'd missed him far more than he thought he would.

"Battered and bruised. Make sure he takes his painkillers and keep an eye on the wound dressings on his legs. The cast on his arm needs to be kept dry, other than that, he needs rest. Seriously, Jack, he's been working himself into the ground trying to do his job and yours. He was ready to drop from exhaustion before being taken over the edge of a cliff by a weevil."

"I know." Jack had the grace to look sheepish before a smile tweaked at the corners of his mouth. "So, what's this about conjugal visits plural? You going to bring him up here for regular visits from now on?"

"Yeah – it would probably do you both good. And he's not going to be in any state to go out in the field for a few weeks yet."

"This is surreal – the whole domestic thing." Ianto carefully set down his china cup and saucer on the antique walnut coffee table, before settling back on the sofa, Jack's body even closer than it had been moments earlier. He couldn't quite believe it was all real and that he wasn't inhabiting some perverse type of half way house between heaven and hell, having been splattered to death on the cliffs at Penarth. "So… we get to play at being a couple expecting their first baby, in a farmhouse, complete with babbling brook and ponies on the door step?"

"Don't knock it. Role play does wonders for my sex drive."

"You're unbelievable you know?" Ianto shook his head in dismay. "It's your bloody sex drive that got you here in the first place."

"Sorry? Seriously though, this is the closest we're ever likely to get to setting up home together and just having time to ourselves." Jack noted that Ianto couldn't look him in the eye as he said out loud what they both knew to be true. "I think we should make the most of it."

"I guess so." Ianto agreed, not altogether uncomfortable with the idea of spending some time alone with Jack, with no weevils, rift monitors or work colleagues interrupting them. He looked up, seeing Jack's hopeful expression and did his best to keep a straight face as he added: "– but you get to play the wife."

"Because I'm pregnant?" Jack all but squealed in mock outrage. "That's discrimination!"

"You can play nurse as well if you want …" A shy look from under lowered lashes was all it took from Ianto for him to win that argument.

The night sounds of owls hunting and sheep bleating on the hill sides had become the background music to his loneliness, but not on that particular night, not with Ianto curled up around him. Jack's arms cradled his lover, wary of the numerous injuries half healed and still capable of causing pain. Ianto's head was resting just under his chin, he could feel the warm breaths on his chest as the younger man snored gently in his sleep. But what made Jack happier than he could imagine was the hand that lay across his swollen abdomen, the thumb slowly rubbing the smooth skin. Jack smiled to himself as a tear silently rolled down his cheek.