5

Ianto enters to find Jack -unable to sleep- sitting at the kitchen table in the dark, nursing a glass of wine.

"Hey."

"Couldn't sleep. I…" Jack stands and turns on the lights, gasping as his face falls at the sight of Ianto.

Ianto takes a beat, then "Yeah, it's been... (sighs) ...a helluva' day"

"I can see that." Jack wants to ask what happened to him, but he can read Ianto, knowing full well that he does not want to talk about it. Jack walks towards the sink "Come here."

Jack runs some cold water. he soaps up his hands and takes Ianto's in his own, gently -yet firmly- massaging his raw knuckles. Ianto watches him with a softening gaze as Jack's eyes remain intent upon his task at hand.

Ianto whispers softly "I miss you."

Jack hesitates, then "I'm right here, Ianto. I'm always... right here."

"I know." Ianto opens his mouth to say something more, but decides otherwise. Catching this, Jack regrets his tone. Ianto continues "Tonight. Well... it got me to thinking."

"About what?"

"About... Jack... we haven't embraced in three months. Haven't shared a kiss in maybe a year. Haven't had sex in two years, and haven't made love in almost five." Ianto takes a beat, then "I don't know if you hate me, but you act as such, and maybe I'm partially to blame. But only just partially. All this to say - I miss you. And I'd really like to find a way back to us. But... if there isn't one... I'm thinkin' we best end this then because this? This... isn't a life either of us want... let alone deserve."

Ianto heads upstairs, leaving Jack with his honest thoughts.

.

.

Ianto is dead asleep, deeper than he has been in years. A long beat... and Jack quietly breaks down his wall of pillows, and -for the first time in a long time- lays next to him. Jack takes a deep breath and exhales, satisfied. He finally recognizes the man in the bed beside him.

,

,

An old-world steak house. A 1955 Ford Thunderbird pulls up to the curb out front. Saxon-late forties, tall, lean to an almost skeletal degree, a force of nature, humorless gaze, quick to inflict pain- exits his car. He pauses to rub a smudge from the hood. Upon tossing his keys to the valet, he enters the club to shed his jacket, handing it to the coat check girl.

Like a scene in Goodfellas, we watch as Saxon makes his way through the restaurant, pausing to greet a couple of locals, ordering free bottles of wine for a table or two. He then ducks the kitchen which is in full swing. He tastes a bit of soup here and a bit of sauce there. He checks a fresh shipment of tomatoes, onions, and peppers, squeezing a couple for good measure. Satisfied, he grabs a tomato and starts eating it like one might an apple. Removing a pair of reading glasses, he puts them on and swats the ass of a young waitress striding past, eliciting a forced smile and pained giggle.

Saxon selects a bottle of wine, studies the label, nods, hands it to the Sommelier, and walks off, removing his glasses. He can't help but smile, pausing for a moment to do a bump of coke off his knuckle. With a shudder of ecstasy, Saxon strides out onto the stage, where a singer is doing a full on Sammy Davis Jr. set. At the sight of Saxon, the crowd goes wild. He grins, motions the singer over, and stuffs a wad of cash into his pocket.

With a chuckle and a shake of his head, the Singer gives up the stage to his boss. As the song continues on, Saxon grabs the microphone and gives his own take on it...and he is excellent.

In fact, Saxon has memorized every one of Sammy's "tics and movements", perfectly emulating his idol as he sashays through the song. With the final lyrics, he bows... ...to rapturous cheers from the restaurant regulars -most of whom are in his employ- and half-assed applause from those who aren't exactly "in on the joke".

As Saxon steps down from the stage, to approach a corner booth where a half-dozen, multi-ethnic MOB Bosses await him along with a bevy of high-priced Escorts. All applaud, save one: an Irish brute with a thick beard, gold tooth, hard eyes, and expensive tattoos.

We see Saxon take quick note of this... ...as Pavel -fifties, cool, calm, and calculated, his right hand man- hands him a towel which he uses to wipe the thick sheen of sweat from his face.

"Well?" Saxon demands.

"You did Mister Show Business proud, boss."

"Ya know, I did, didn't I"

A young waiter approaches to offer him a martini which he accepts, taking a sip... before lowering it with a contented nod and a smile "Gentlemen" … only to crush it in his hand, sending his bloodied fist embedded with jagged shards- down into the Irish Brute's face... time... and time... again... until he pulls back, satisfied with the degree of penalty dealt.

As the others look on with wide eyes, Saxon sinks down to sit beside Pavel who offers him a handkerchief which he uses to pluck the pieces of glass from his bleeding hand. Saxon says in Russian "We were born in the wrong fucking era, weren't we?".

Pavel agrees "I don't know. I rather like cell phones..."

Pavel removes an escort's "curious" hand from his own leg with a sigh. " ...and penicillin."

Just as he is about to take a seat, Saxon glances over to find Albert -thirties, a giant of a man, suit one size too small- approaching with a worried expression.

"What is it?"

.

.

At the Hospital Saxon and Pavel stand over an unconscious Teddy who is surrounded by high-tech machinery, his body covered by various tubes and patches.

"Jesus" Saxon motions to Pavel "What the fuck was he doing on a bus anyways?"

Pavel answers with a shrug just as a Doctor enters.

"Will he walk again?" Saxon demands.

Hesitating, then the doctor says "Sir... I am sorry to say, but...it is doubtful that your brother will regain consciousness. The damage to his…"

"What?" Saxon shoves the doctor up against the wall, tapping a finger time and time again to the intimidated man's chest. "What are you saying? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Pavel sighs "He's not."

Saxon glances back to see Pavel reading Teddy's chart.

"How fucked"

"Real fucked."

Saxon pulls back from the doctors and mutters "...fuck..."-tapping an apologetic hand to the man's chest.

Saxon turns towards Teddy and takes his hand in his own. Who did this to you?"

.

.

A half-dozen of his men lay in various states of disrepair as Saxon looks on, stunned. "How the fuck did this happen?"

HEAVY #1 "Boss, he was…."

"He?! As in one man?" Saxon splutters "Are you fucking with me?"

HEAVY #1 "No, sir"

Saxon slaps a hand down onto the man's wounded leg, his fingers white as they constrict, eliciting a cry.

"Don't you fucking lie to me!"

HEAVY #1 in Russian "I'm not! I swear!"

A beat... and Saxon releases him, muttering under his breath. "What, exactly, transpired for this one man to wreak such havoc?"

HEAVY #1 "It was Teddy. There was this girl…"

Saxon silences him with a roll of his eyes and a wave of his hand. "When it comes to my brother and trouble, there's always a girl. (sighs) Shit. (thinking, then) We got anything to go on?"

A beat... and a bloodied hand extends up into the air-with Ianto's Metro Card clutched between ashen fingers

.

.

Ianto jogs into view in a park at dawn. With no one looking on, Ianto attempts a complex parkour move off a park bench with his husband's Real Estate Advertisement... and nails it, sprinting off with a grin.

.

.

Blake enters the kitchen -followed by Jack- to find Ianto having prepared a veritable feast. Alice looks up from her chocolate chip pancakes with a grin, her cheeks packed with food.

"Tad..." Blake motions "...you look like shit."

"Yeah, well..." Ianto smirks with a wink "...you shoulda' seen the other guy."

Blake scoffs with a roll of his eyes. Jack hands Ianto a cup of coffee 'Mornin'.-and leans forward to kiss him on the cheek, eliciting a surprised half-smile.

"Good morning." Ianto replies.

The phone rings. Ianto answers it. "This is Ianto."

It's Mickey "Last night... that was you, huh?"

Ianto ducks around the corner with the phone to his ear. "We said no land lines"

"Relax. I've got thirteen seconds. So? That was you?"

Hesitating, then Ianto answers "Yeah."

Mickey is chuckling "That a boy, big brutha. How'd it feel?"

"Like salvation day."

"I bet. But, why now?" Mickey asks.

"I dunno. It just... happened."

"Nothing just happens, Ianto." Mickey laughs "You made a choice, and just remember; once you let that genie out of the bottle, there ain't no bottle to go back to."

"I know."

Mickey hesitates, then "And if a certain someone catches wind, man... it's bad for all of us. As in "end times" bad. (on his silence) Ok. Well, then... I -uh- guess you best just keep on keepin' on, Toto. I'll circle back."

CLICK - Mickey hangs up followed by Ianto.

"Who was that?" Jack asks.

"Ah, just a distributor of ours."

"Oh."

Ianto tussles Alice's hair and heads for the door, saying to Blake "I'll grab pizza tonight. Pepperoni, sausage, ham, and onions with red pepper flakes, parmesan, and pepperonis on the side, right?"

Blake smirks "Oh, hells yeah."

As Jack looks on a curious half-smile.