Ianto woke to the sound of voices in the outer room. For a moment, he struggled to remember where he was and what happened: he was in a strange room, in a strange bed, in strange clothes. He tried to roll over and move his arm, only to find it strapped to his chest and throbbing with pain, and then it all came back to him: London, the shootings, the hotel, and the asinine plan he'd come up with to play spy.

With a groan, Ianto sat up and tried to rub the sleep from his scratchy face. He only succeeded in messing up his hair, and if he hadn't been in so much pain, he would have stopped to fix it before stumbling out into the living room. The bright light almost blinded him, and he held up a hand to his eyes, tempted to turn around and crawl right back into bed.

"Ianto!" cried a voice he recognized. Squinting into the light, he saw Tosh darting toward him and took a precautionary step backward as she looked like she wanted to tackle him. Fortunately, she noticed his hesitation, slowed down, and hugged him gently. He sighed happily into her warm embrace.

"You made it," he murmured. "Just in time to watch everything go to hell."

"Ianto," she reprimanded him. "What are you talking about? Jack told me you got in. We'll be with you all the way. It'll be fine." She patted him on his good arm as she led him into the kitchen, where Jack was sitting with Nigel Williamson and Fiona Shaw. He stood when he saw Ianto coming in with Tosh.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty. We thought we'd have to wake you for your spa appointment." He winked at Tosh, then held out a chair for Ianto.

"You did wake me," Ianto grumbled good-naturedly as he sat down. "I'm sure the entire building heard you."

"Well, you do need to eat and get cleaned up so we can go over things with Tosh," Jack replied, ignoring the barb. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been run over by a pack of Weevils," Ianto replied without thinking, running a hand across his rough chin.

Dr. Williamson raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything as he reached out to take Ianto's wrist.

"Pulse is good," he said, then laid his hand on Ianto's forehead. "No temperature either."

"That's remarkably high tech, doctor," Ianto said dryly, refraining from rolling his eyes.

"It works," said Nigel with a small smile. "Now, more importantly, how's the pain?"

"You mean the hot knife that someone's ground into my shoulder and is slowly twisting around like a corkscrew?"

"Bad then," answered Jack, frowning, and the doctor stood with a nod to get something from the other room. Jack was standing behind him and ran a hand across his neck, massaging it gently to help him relax.

"Yes, bad," said Ianto replied, letting his eyes slip closed. "There is a hole in my body where there shouldn't be a hole. It hurts like hell."

"All right then, Ianto," said Nigel, returning with a syringe that made Ianto wince, plus several more pills. "This should get you through." And he plunged the needle into Ianto's upper arm without even asking; Ianto yelped, Jack laughed, and Tosh reprimanded Jack for not being more sympathetic.

"That's right, we don't all heal as fast as you," Ianto grumbled yet again. "Now, food and coffee before the madness begins."

Jack had set out breakfast for him and handed him a large cup of coffee before returning to his own seat. Ianto was pleasantly surprised to find it was prepared exactly as he liked it, although it certainly wasn't as good as the coffee Ianto served at the Hub.

"Thank you." Ianto tucked into the large bowl of porridge that had been waiting for him before turning toward Fiona. "How are you doing?"

Fiona was picking at a plate of fruit, her face pale and eyes downcast. "I'm fine, really."

"Fine, but?" asked Ianto, sensing there was more.

Fiona sighed. "You shouldn't go. You shouldn't be meeting with him."

"Why not?" asked Jack. "Is that who you were talking about yesterday, Michael Collins?"

"I don't know for sure," she mumbled, looking away to hide the fact that she clearly did know more than she was letting on. "I just know you're in danger. Even more now that they've tried to kill you twice. Don't go, Ianto."

Ianto laid his good hand over Fiona's. "I have to. I have to stop this. I'll be all right, they'll be watching me."

There were tears in her eyes. "He's a good man, really he is. Please don't hurt him."

Ianto glanced at Jack, confused. Fiona was telling him not to go, because he was in danger, yet at the same time, she didn't want Ianto hurting the man responsible. It didn't make sense, and Ianto could see Jack lean forward, ready to grill her. He shook his head at Jack, who leaned back and nodded in understanding.

"If he's a good man, why is he doing this?" Ianto asked softly.

"I don't know," she whispered. "I really don't know."

"But you know him personally, don't you?" asked Ianto. "You said he's a good man. How do you know he's a good man?"

Fiona was silent, and Ianto gave Jack a tiny nod, since he could see Jack itching to ask his own questions. He continued to eat, ready to step in should Jack push it too far.

"You told me he wouldn't hurt you," Jack said, and his voice was surprisingly kind. "That he couldn't. Why? How do you know him?"

Fiona glanced around like she was trying to escape. Dr. Williamson was watching her carefully, likely trying to gauge her reaction and make sure she did not panic as she had yesterday. Finally she closed her eyes.

"I didn't know him that well, but I knew his son," she whispered. "James Michael Collins, intelligence support." She took a deep breath. "Torchwood One."

Tosh let out a little gasp as Jack nodded and Ianto set down his spoon to take her hand again. "You were involved with him?" Fiona nodded, her eyes bright with tears. "And he died at Canary Wharf."

Another nod, with a whispered, "Converted."

Ianto let his head fall toward his chest. So Fiona Stewart had dated Michael Collin's son, who had died at Canary Wharf in excruciating pain. Ianto knew the elder Collins had lost an arm in the battle himself, and likely bore even more emotional scars than most of the survivors given his responsibility in running the ghost machine project that had brought the Cybermen through the void in the first place. And then killed his son.

"That's why he won't hurt you, why he can't," Jack said, and Fiona glanced up at him, eyes wide and frightened. "Because you're special to him. A living reminder of his son."

She burst into tears, and Ianto glanced up sharply to rebuke Jack for his insensitive words. But Jack had stood and pulled her into his arms, murmuring softly in her ear as he ran his hand down her back to comfort her. Nigel Williamson was already preparing another sedative to calm her down, while Tosh was watching Ianto closely, as if she was more worried about him and his own experience Canary Wharf coming back to haunt him. He gave her a weak smile.

"I'm fine," he mouthed, and she nodded sympathetically before returning to her coffee. She sighed, and Ianto took it as an opportunity to reassure her with light words. "You should have let me make the coffee, though," he murmured. He was rewarded with a smile and gave her a wink before he ducked his head down to finish his breakfast.

"All right," said Jack, returning to his chair as Williamson led Fiona toward the couch in the sitting room. "What have you got, Tosh? We need to get ready."

"Right," she said, sitting up straighter. "I've done the best I can, but I didn't want to use anything I thought UNIT might pick up. So no comms."

"Damn," muttered Jack. "I'd really like to be able to communicate in there."

"I know, but it's too obvious. It would compromise his story if they found him wired. So I brought the contacts."

"Contacts?" asked Ianto, and Toshiko grinned.

"The ones Jack asked me to look into last week before archiving them. I think they're going to be quite useful."

Ianto gave Jack a curious glance, which was returned with a bit of a sheepish shrug. "Sorry, I didn't want to get everyone's hopes up. If they work, it'll be great. If not, they're just another bit of alien tech someone can pull out again in twenty years and have a go at."

"And what do these contacts do?" asked Ianto.

"First of all, did you get them to work with our systems? Our software?" asked Jack, and Tosh nodded, looking proud.

"It took a while, but yes. I think they're ready to go."

"You think?" asked Ianto. "Have they ever been tried?"

"Not by us, so it looks like you're the first," replied Jack with a broad grin. "Trust me, they'll be fun."

"And what do they do again?" Ianto repeated himself, trying to remain patient.

Tosh pulled a small case from the bag next to her. "They're cameras, and they transmit a signal. We'll be able to see everything you're seeing."

"So don't go doing anything naughty," Jack murmured.

"As if I could," Ianto replied, inclining his head toward his bum shoulder. "What about sound? Will you be able to hear the people I'm talking to?"

"Not exactly," said Tosh, frowning. "I've got some rudimentary lip reading software up and running, but it's not perfect. It's all we've got though, and the important thing is we'll be able to see what's going on."

"And UNIT scans won't detect them?" asked Ianto, taking the case and turning it over in his hands. "You're certain?"

"I'm certain they've never seen anything like it," said Tosh, sounding confident. "And I tried every scan we've got and couldn't pick up anything unusual. Even the signal it sends is masked somehow to be virtually undetectable."

"Good work," said Jack, and Tosh preened a bit. "What else?"

With another nod, Tosh went back into her bag. "Standard tracking device under the skin, in case we lose touch. And a few concealed weapons that could always be useful in a pinch."

Ianto watched as she pulled out a pen that had been modified into a small knife, cuff links that had some sort of poison inside, and a credit card that could apparently read authorization codes almost instantaneously and get him into restricted areas should he need to go snooping.

"Thank you, Agent Q," Ianto finally said with a wry grin. "Now I know where Hollywood gets all their ideas. Toshiko Sato, spy extraordinaire."

Tosh actually blushed. "No, I got most of the ideas from them—all those Bond movies you've got me to watch."

"Knew it would be worth it," Ianto said with a wink. He enjoyed spending time with Tosh, especially while Jack had been gone. They had grown closer during those long months, and watching old movies—especially old spy and monster movies—had been a favorite pastime; living the real thing had made the films especially amusing and had always resulted in a good deal of laughter during a difficult time.

"I like James Bond," said Jack, glancing back and forth between them with an innocent look on his face.

"You can join us next time then," Ianto said, rather enjoying Jack's rare moment of, if not outright jealousy, then slight envy. "We've got one more Roger Moore film, then Dalton and Brosnan. Although I'd rather skip Dalton."

Jack looked confused, and both Tosh and Ianto laughed. Ianto finished his coffee quickly but silently as they continued to talk, letting his mind wander freely over everything he had to do that day, then stood, feeling much better than when he had left his room earlier.

"I'm going to go get cleaned and suited up." He paused. "You did bring my suit?" he asked, suddenly terrified that he might have to meet with UNIT in casual pants and a button down shirt. He needed that suit; it would be his mask, his armor. Tosh nodded.

"I hung it in your closet as soon as I got here," she laughed. "I know how much you hate wrinkles."

"Then you know me well," Ianto replied. "Although I didn't hear you, you should have said something when you got in."

"I didn't want her to wake you," Jack said, standing with him. "Now, do you need help with that arm of yours?" The raised eyebrows suggested he wanted to do more than help, and Ianto rolled his eyes.

"Help cleaning up and getting dressed, yes. Help with anything else, no." Tosh was watching them curiously as Ianto turned and left. He heard Jack sigh dramatically behind him.

"He's no fun," he stage-whispered to Tosh.

Ianto grinned to himself. "Tosh, can you help me then?" he called.

"Fine, fine," grumbled Jack. "I'll be a good boy."

"Doubt it," Ianto murmured as Jack followed him into the bathroom.

"I can, you know," Jack returned. He gently helped Ianto out of the sling then the shirt, wincing in time with Ianto as his shoulder twinged with each movement. Jack started the shower and turned back to Ianto. "When I want to be."

"Rare as that is," Ianto replied, stepping out of the pyjama pants he'd found laid out for him the night before and holding his arm against him as he stepped into the shower. The warm water stung yet felt good, and then felt even better when Jack stepped in beside him and began helping him with the soap and shampoo.

"How do you manage to get undressed so fast?" asked Ianto. Jack kissed his neck.

"Lots of practice."

"I don't even want to know," Ianto returned. "Just keep doing what you're doing and help me into my suit when you're done. And a shave, if you can manage it without knicking up my face like teenage boy."

"That'll be a first—helping you dress instead of undress." Jack had washed his good arm, making sure to keep his injured shoulder as dry as possible. He ran his hands across Ianto's chest and moved down his legs. "And yes, I can do a clean shave. Just relax."

Ianto sighed in contentment as Jack continued, remembering the doctor's words from the night before: "Some time you might have to let him take care of you."

Apparently this was one of those rare times, and for once in his life, Ianto didn't mind being pampered a bit.

And for once in his life, Jack was actually a good boy, just like he said.

Author's Note:

Gah, I know I said we'd get started next chapter but no one would cooperate with me. They wanted to eat and talk and clean up and all that. So I'm sending him in next chapter, flying by the seat of my pants because in spite of all your lovely reassurances, I really don't feel like much of a spy, even an amateur one with a thoroughly overactive imagination. And there are so many ideas running around in my head I can barely pick a direction to follow and run with. If you see a one-shot pop up, that means I needed to clear my head. Of a great many things.

Thanks again for the reads and reviews. I really appreciate the encouragement and hope I don't let anyone down!