Hello All! This is a bit longer than a snippet ... Hope you enjoy!

"Global warning," Owen said darkly, "Has a lot to answer for."

It hadn't rained at all for weeks. And there'd been no decent rain for months. Now it was the middle of summer, and it was hot.

"This is Wales," Owen continued. "It's supposed to be wet."

"Saxon's fault," Ianto pointed out knowledgeably. "The Archangel network accelerated the greenhouse effect."

"Bloody politicians," Owen grumbled.

Gwen fanned herself with a report she was supposed to be reading. "Shouldn't an underground base be cool?"

Tosh looked up from her terminal, a frown creasing her face. "The generator's failing," she announced. "I've had to kill the air-conditioning."

"Bloody Torchwood," Owen said morosely.

Which just about summed it up.

-XXX-

There was an almighty groan from the depths of the Hub. The lights flickered, went out, came back on.

"That was the generator," Tosh announced. "Someone should check it."

She waited. No-one offered. Tosh looked hopefully at Ianto, saw him brush his hands along his Armani trousers, and couldn't do it to him.

"I'll go," Tosh sighed.

After half an hour of crawling around inside the generator, Tosh announced that that it was on the verge of overheating and had closed down as a safety measure.

"It'll auto-restart when it's ready," she said, crawling back out of the access shaft. "Nothing to be done until then." Ianto handed her a glass, in which ice tinkled.

Owen didn't tackle Tosh for the glass. He should've got a medal for that.

"What about the backup?" Jack demanded.

"We're on backup," Tosh explained wearily, wiping sweaty hair back from her eyes and swiping ineffectually at a smear of grease on her T-shirt. "I've had to reroute all the power to keeping the monitors running and maintaining the atmosphere in the cells."

There was a general groan. "Otherwise we'd have to let them all out," Tosh concluded. There was a general shudder. And a mournful cawing overhead.

"Speaking of which," Ianto mused, "We're going to have to release Myfanwy. She's not coping very well." Which took them back to the groans. The heat had already turned the pterodactyl grumpy and uncoordinated. They were all going to get scratched.

Jack got to the loft first and seized the handle that cranked open the hole in the roof Myfanwy used as her exit. Which meant the rest of them got the privilege of herding a grumpy leather chicken through the opening. A huge, grumpy leather chicken, with claws.

Time ticked on. Owen treated the scratches encountered during Myfanwy's release. Nothing serious. She'd been so relieved at escaping the heat she'd only bothered with token swipes. And they'd stacked a cryo-chamber full of dark chocolate to coax her back in later. Couldn't risk having it melt.

"Get us a coffee, would you Teaboy?" Owen demanded, fairly politely, for him. "A cold one," he added.

"Frappe," Ianto corrected.

"Same to you, with bells on."

Gwen giggled. "That's what it's called Owen. A cold coffee. With ice. Is a frappe." Gwen's forehead was beaded with sweat and her eyes unfocused as she absently unfastened a button.

"Crushed ice," Toshiko added dreamily. Owen scowled. A Hub full of sweaty men and both women were fantasizing about coffee.

"And I can't make you a frappe," Ianto continued, with lamentable smugness. "Because we're on backup power, and the blender would be too much of a drain."

Owen sighed. He was hot. He was annoyed. He suspected he stank. Teaboy was smirking at him. And Jack was leering at Teaboy, who'd only loosened his tie, for God's sake.

If he was in a better mood, Owen would have grudgingly admired Jack's restraint, given Captain Charisma was suffering drought conditions too. And not for lack of effort, either.

In spite off all Jack's effort, Teaboy had kept him at arms length since he got back from his trip with that Doctor of his. No more than Jack deserved, after deserting them that way, but Owen hadn't thought Teaboy had so much backbone. Maybe prolonged exposure to those pheromones gave him some sort of resistance. Or maybe he wasn't as much of a wimp as Owen liked to think.

"Sod off then," Owen suggested, in the interests of balancing any lingering positive thoughts about the Teaboy.

"Can't do that either," Ianto answered, with despicable cheerfulness. "At least, not without help. The doors have gone manual. It'll take all of us to get them open."

Owen groaned. Tosh giggled. The sound made Owen think about ice tinkling against a glass. Damn it, now he was fantasizing, too. About ice cubes.

Bloody Torchwood.

-XXX-

Clothes began to disappear. Jackets were a distant memory. Gwen's shirt was now unbuttoned to the limits of decency. Tosh had sweated so much inside her modest T-shirt that it was sticking to her skin in all the right places. Owen didn't know who to perve on first.

It would have been an ideal situation if he wasn't so aware of the fact that his own T-shirt was sticky from sweat too– and the sweat smelled bad. He didn't want to get close enough to either of the girls for the sight to be ruined by the scent.

He didn't want to get too close to the boys either. Bloody pheromones.

Jack had stripped down to a singlet. He'd only been prevented from losing the trousers, too when Owen threatened to cool him off by locking him in a cryo-chamber. One without the chocolate. Even the Teaboy had lost his jacket and vest and rolled up his sleeves. Owen devoutly hoped it was sweat on Jack's chin, not drool, but he wasn't getting close enough to find out.

None of them had done anything for the last thirty minutes except swig water and pant.

"Right," Owen announced decisively. "I'm calling this. Health hazard. Everyone out until the generator recovers."

"No arguments from me," Jack agreed. "Tosh, reroute any alerts to my wristband and let's all get out of here."

It took all of their efforts and the application of an alien lock pick to get the cog door open, but they managed it. There was a general stampede for the outside. Where it was still hot, but at least the air was fresh. And moving. Owen had never been so appreciative of a sea breeze.

"Everyone got their phones?" Jack called. Nods all around.

"OK, then, off you go. Be back in the morning unless you hear from me before."

"Pub?" Owen asked hopefully.

Gwen slid her phone back into her pocket. "Rhys is picking me up," she informed them. "In a refrigerated truck! How I love that man!"

"The way to a woman's heart is through her ice-chest," Ianto observed, as they watched Gwen scamper off to her rendezvous with the ice man of her dreams.

"Pub," Owen repeated, looking at the rest of them.

"I'm heading home," Ianto announced, making no move.

Jack scuffed the pavement. Owen didn't bother asking again. Where Teaboy went, Jack would follow.

Which left….

"Hey, Tosh, how about you buy me a frappe?" Owen demanded.

Tosh smiled. "How about you buy me one?"

Owen grinned. "Works for me."

And with that, Jack and Ianto were alone on the Plass. Jack shifted restlessly. Things had been tentative between him and Ianto since he'd gotten back, and John Hart hadn't helped in the slightest.

And here they were with a free afternoon. And Jack was temporarily homeless. Was he actually hoping for a sympathy invite to Ianto's place? Yes, he was. Hoping, not assuming, because he didn't assume anything where Ianto was concerned, not any more. It had hurt Ianto more than Jack realized when he'd left with the Doctor. Earning his trust back was an ongoing battle. One that it looked like he might be winning.

Jack was really hoping for a win today. Ianto had air-conditioning. And a ceiling fan in the bedroom. Not that Jack had gotten the chance to view that ceiling fan from his preferred position since he'd been back. But he was slightly surprised to find he didn't mind, not really.

Ianto looked up and smiled. Jack's stomach did that flip-flop thing which hadn't happened to him in a hundred years and it suddenly didn't matter whether this afternoon involved Ianto's bed, as long as it involved Ianto.

This 'taking it slow' caper had a few things going for it, after all.

He hadn't actually spent any high-quality time in Ianto's bed since getting back. He had, however, spent some very high-quality time in his doorway. Good night kisses at the end of their dates. Damned good goodnight kisses. The type where you decide that, if this is all there's going to be tonight, then it's gonna be awesome. And it was.

The dates had been nice too. They were dating. Jack Harkness, doing the 21st century thing and enjoying it. Dinner, movies, walking and talking. Lots of talking. Ianto would never again be justified in accusing Jack of not taking an interest in his life. And he was interested. Jack was busy addressing every regret he'd had hanging from those chains for a year.

And what a surprise it had been to realize not a single one of those regrets involved anything physical.

Recently the kisses had developed into make-out sessions on the sofa. Things were progressing. And now, here they were, with an expected afternoon off. And in this moment, Jack felt as though the whole universe was holding its breath.

-XXX-

Ianto couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as Jack watched him with a hopeful expression.

If this happened before Jack left, he wouldn't have waited for an invitation. He'd have led the way back to Ianto's flat, opened the door with the key that was supposedly only for emergency use, and assumed he was welcome. And he would have been right. But this was better. So much better.

Ianto still wasn't convinced he was gay, but he was beginning to suspect he was turning into a girl.

It started as a matter of pride. However gorgeous Jack was, however good he smelled, Ianto was determined not to shatter his dignity – or what remained of it – by falling straight back into Jack's expectant arms.

It started off as 'making him work for it'. Showing Jack he wasn't needy, wasn't a pushover. It started as that - but now Ianto had to admit it had evolved into something else. He was playing hard to get, and loving it.

The bewildering behavior of the girls at school suddenly made sense. It was fun being chased. Playing hard to get worked. How about that? Mothers were right. Not that he'd been playing, not consciously anyway. He was just trying to protect himself from being hurt again.

Heaven help him, he was turning into a girl.

But ever since Jack came back from-wherever he'd been with that Doctor he'd treated Ianto differently. It used to be a string of one-night stands. Ianto had known, and accepted, that he was nothing more than a willing body, conveniently there, easily replaced when it wasn't available.

But it was more than that now. Jack treated him as though he actually mattered, as if it would make a difference in Jack's life if Ianto wasn't there any more. They'd gone on dates. Real dates. Dinners and movies and late night conversations that didn't end in bed.

Kisses goodnight at the door, for goodness sake, with Jack thanking him for a lovely evening and leaving. And when Ianto finally weakened and invited Jack in, the steamy make-out sessions ended in smiles and laughter and Jack excusing himself politely – and regretfully – and heading back to the Hub. Probably straight to a cold shower, because that's where Ianto went as soon as the door closed.

But today Jack couldn't go back to the Hub. Today Jack had nowhere else to go. Today, Ianto didn't want Jack to go anywhere else.

As much fun as the game had been, maybe it was time it ended.

Ianto smiled shyly, shifted awkwardly. "Want to come back to mine?"

The words echoed across the empty Plass.

Jack smiled so hard his cheeks hurt. "Thought you'd never ask," he said lightly, threading his arm through Ianto's and entwiing their hands, feeling something that had nothing to do with lust spreading up from his toes when Ianto didn't try to pull away.

And that something told him there was still no rush.

"How about I buy you something to eat first?" Jack offered. "We haven't had lunch."

Ianto smiled softly. "I'd like that." But two paces later, he stopped. He really didn't want to play anymore. He wanted to know if this was more than a game, and there was only one way to find out.

Jack stopped, too, face creased in concern. "Something wrong?"

"You don't have to do this." Ianto waved the hand Jack wasn't holding in a gesture that could have meant anything. "All this. I mean, it's been nice, it really has, but…..I don't need it."

Jack laughed and pulled Ianto into his arms. "I know you don't need it. But Jones, Ianto Jones. You deserve it."

Ianto rested his head against the broad shoulder. Ianto Jones, cuddling with another man in the middle of the Plass. He was a girl, and he didn't care. It wasn't a game.

Jack nuzzled his cheek against soft hair curling adorably from the damp heat. The year in the Valiant with all its regrets drifted back into the recesses of his mind where it would only live in nightmares. Nightmares that Ianto would chase away.

Oh yeah, Ianto Jones, you deserve it.

And so do I.

A bit long and wandering, I know, but this was began as a multi-chaptered fic (in which it is actually Jack who would've turned into a girl) which had to stop because it was getting very complicated and I have too many others on the go! May still finish it one day...if S4 doesn't send all my muses into therapy.

Thanks for reading.