Toshiko Sato was furious. Her best friend was on her couch, in her flat, bawling his eyes out over a man who very publicly shattered his heart. As she streaked recklessly through the streets of Cardiff, hell bent on finding their idiotic Captain and giving him a piece of her mind.

Jack was crying. He seemed to be doing that a lot today, crying. But how could he not. He had hurt the man that he loved, and then that man had ended things. Jack rubbed his jaw absent mindedly. The bruise was still there, light, but not fully healed. Ianto really did have a hell of a right hook. Jack shook his head rubbing his eyes with the sleeves of his coat. The coat. The coat that Ianto loved, the very coat that had been the object of so many a romantic encounter between himself and his Welshman. No, not his Welshman, not anymore. Ianto had ended it, scrounged up the shards of his broken heart and walked away. Jack screamed. From the top of the Millennium Center the wind simply carried it away. He screamed at the top of his lungs for all that he had harmed. He screamed for Ianto, from breaking his heart and falling in love and losing the man of his dreams.

Owen Harper was dead. He had been dead, for a while now, but in death he had truly had time to evaluate his relationships with the people that he worked with. Gwen, she was like his kid sister, though how fucked up is it when you shagged your sister for a few weeks. Tosh, well, he loved Tosh, and nothing was worse than knowing that he could never physically love her, not in the way that he once could. Ianto, well, the dead man had grown rather attached to the Archivist. Tea-boy had evolved from an insult to a term of endearment. The last thing that he wanted to see was what he was staring at now.

Ianto jones was curled up on his best friend's couch, shuddering with sobs as Owen awkwardly rubbed soothing circles on his shoulders. "You know, Tea-boy, these things get better."

The Welshman sniffled. "This is really awkward Owen." The dead man chuckled, and Ianto let out a sobbing laugh.

"Really! I had no clue! Look, mate, I am shit at comfort, I know, but I'm still here for ya." Ianto leaned back out of Owen's grasp, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"I am going to be so bloody hung over tomorrow." Owen laughed again, a real laugh.

"It's time that you got to bed Tea-boy." Ianto wanted to say no. He wanted to cry and rant and rave at the world. But he was tired, and Jack was gone, and he had no reason to stay wake.

"Fine, but if you make any sort of pass on me while I'm out and you'll be dead, for real this time." The doctor smacked Ianto's shoulder lightly as the Welshman staggered to the loo.

Jack leaned over the edge, peering down at the ground below him, contemplating how long he would stay dead if he jumped. It would be a brief respite, he knew, and undeserved. The immortal pealed himself out of his coat, holding it away from him as if it held the key to getting Ianto back. A particularly strong gust of wind blew around him, sending Jack staggering back and the coat falling from his grasp, falling in a way that Jack wished to follow, strait down to the ground.

Tosh swerved out of the path of a rather large object descending from the sky. Torchwood training superseded even her need to find Jack as she grabbed her gun and checked her rift predictor. No spike, but it was definitely something large enough to warrant a look. She pulled over, cautiously approaching the heap of cloth that had fallen from the sky. Her breath caught in her throat. It was the Coat, Jack's Coat, uncharacteristically devoid of the emotionally ignorant captain that normally filled it. She gathered up the now sodden article in her arms, glancing around to make sure the owner was not around, before looking up. There, plain, as day, was the tiny silhouette of the man that she wanted to talk to. She tossed the coat into her car, locking the door before running into the building.

Ianto Jones was asleep. After much coaxing from Owen he had finally taken up residence in Toshiko's room, instead of crashing the couch. Owen knew that Tosh wouldn't be going to bed that night, and Ianto needed as much comfort as he could get. The dead man sighed, settling onto the couch to reevaluate exactly what Captain Jack Harkness was to him. The man had harmed his brother, and that needed to be punished.

Jack watched as Tosh scooped up the coat and stashed it, before heading towards him. He knew that he should run, that Tosh would probably want answers and explanations that it was painful to give, but he couldn't. He deserved whatever punishment that fate decided to hand him. He had been an ass. More than an ass, he had been utterly reckless with Ianto's heart.

Tosh flung open the door to the roof, only to see Jack leaning over the ledge of the roof staring down at the ground.

"So, you come to talk me down?" He asked voice raw from crying.

"Depends." She answered coolly.

"On what?" He turned, and even in the pale light Tosh could see the red rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks of a man who had lost something dear to him.

"On your answers to a few of my questions." He nodded leaning his back against the ledge.

"Shoot." Tosh took a deep breath, hitting record on the device in her pocket.

"What the hell were you thinking?" "Jack jumped slightly, her harsh question was not what he had expected to hear.

"About what?"

"Gwen. I mean really Jack, what the hell? He loves you and he took a chance at publicly showing you that. And you humiliated him in front of everyone there!"

"I didn't mean to. I mean, I watched the footage Tosh! I saw how it looked. That's why I was at his flat. To apologize. To try and explain myself. But he was drunk Tosh. The last time I has ever seen him get that drunk was Lisa." Jack sunk down against the ledge head in his hands. "I broke him. I shattered his heart, and then I waltzed in there and thought that I could fix it with words."

Tosh kneeled in front of the now sobbing Captain, touched by the amount of emotion that the man was capable of having, but she still had questions that need to be answered.

"Why?"

"It wasn't because of Gwen that's for sure. I mean, I love her, but she's like the sister that I never had, all fire and spirit, but she isn't Ianto." He shook his head. "When I danced with her I felt like I was dancing with my first wife. I felt like I was saying goodbye to those memories, until that wedding dredged them up again. By the time Ianto cut in I was on the verge of breaking down. Not because I had lost Gwen, but because I remembered those who had come before Ianto. The weddings of my past."

He hugged his arms tighter around himself looking Tosh in the eye. "I have been a complete and utter arse Tosh. I broke the man of my dreams heart and didn't even notice."

"Is that why you're up here? To pay penance?"

"No, no sort of punishment can match the one that I brought upon myself. I lost Ianto, isn't that enough?" Tosh nodded fighting tears of her own. Jack really was an idiot, but a misguided one.

"And he is right; the dance was the tip of the iceberg. I've been taking advantage of him, I don't appreciate him nearly enough. Now I may never get the chance." He broke down again and Tosh wrapped her arms around the freezing man.

"Jack you are a clueless idiot, but Ianto loves you, and leaving you has hurt him way more than you can ever know." Jack looked the technician in the eye, searching, she knew, for the way to fix his erroneous actions.

"Tell you what, let's get you back to the HUB, get you warmed up, and then we can figure out a game plan to get him back, eh?" Jack smiled softly standing up and shuffling with the slender woman to the lift. Maybe, just maybe, he could fix this.

Tosh and Jack drove in silence to the HUB neither one knowing what else to say. Tosh settled Jack onto the couch, hit by how close his state was to Ianto's just hours earlier. She handed him a mug of tea, wincing at the slightly bitter taste.

"Thank you Tosh." He took a sip, leaning back on the couch. "You know, I promised him a date. When I came back. Hart had us running around, the two of us were searching this office of that damned canister, and I couldn't bear to see him so hurt. I really did want him to realize how much a cared for him, and I thought, well, a date would go a long way to that goal."

He took another sip of the bitter tea, Tosh silently goading him along. "We never got around to it. It has been how long, and between the Rift, the wedding, and my own inability to keep a damn promise, well it never happened." Tosh smiled softly,

"And if it were, if you could make it happen, what exactly would you do?" Jack chuckled setting the mug down on the table and drawing his legs up under him.

"Part of me just wants to whisk him away, a private weekend in Barcelona or Rome, just the two of us. The other, more romantic, side of me wants to take him out to dinner, to wine and dine and woo him in the oldest fashioned way that I could muster." Jack shook his head. "I would even cook for him." This really caught Tosh's attention. Jack didn't cook. Ever.

"You would cook him dinner. Like with real food?" Jack scrunched up his nose.

"Yes with real food. I'm almost 150 years old; I have learned how to cook." Tosh shook her head.

"Well Jack, you plead a pretty strong case for my help in getting him back, but it's going to take a hell of a lot more than some home cooking and a romantic gesture or too to manage this." Tosh pulled up her laptop, inserting the recording device into the port and emailing the contents to Owen.

"What's that?" Jack asked, curious.

"Your key to redemption."